#i think i’m gonna build them a restaurant

[hdmiports]

landen (he/him), nicolas (he/him), nico (they/them), yaretzi (they/she), and most importantly, mr. magoo

[thedensworld]

Talk the Stalker | C.Sc

Genre: fluff

Summary: Seungcheol is obsessed with you, he loves you and he would do anything to protect you.

Note: i'm obsessed, addicted, and drowned in his pretty smile! Happiness suit him sfm!

Seungcheol's hand was warm as it held yours tightly while the two of you entered the restaurant. He had already noticed two or three cameras tailing him outside, snapping pictures of the two of you together. He paid them no mind—your relationship was public anyway, and he was too used to the attention to care. Right now, all that mattered to him was making sure you were okay.

This restaurant was your favorite, a haven you always turned to when your appetite disappeared—which had happened again today. He had picked you up from the shooting set after a long day. You had texted him earlier, letting him know you’d be working from afternoon until late evening. Coincidentally, his own schedule had wrapped up at the same time, so he decided to spend the night with you.

"Can we grab something first? I think I’m gonna pass out," you muttered the moment you slid into his car.

Seungcheol sighed deeply, already anticipating this. You hadn’t eaten, had you? His mind pieced together the puzzle: you probably woke up barely two hours before your schedule, rushed to get ready, spent an hour commuting, and then worked the entire day without a single meal. The thought of it frustrated him—he had been through similar habits in the past, too busy to eat. But seeing you, the love of his life, neglecting yourself like this made his chest ache. Without a word, he drove the two of you straight to your go-to spot.

While you disappeared to the restroom, Seungcheol took the liberty of ordering your usual meal. When you returned, he waved you over, pulling the chair beside him. As you sat down, his hand instinctively reached for your back, rubbing soothing circles to ease the tension he imagined must be building there.

"How’s your back? Still hurt?" he asked gently, his voice tinged with concern.

You had injured yourself three months ago during a stunt for an action film—a brutal fall onto your back that had left you with a dislocated shoulder and lingering pain. While everything had seemed fine recently, yesterday’s severe backache brought the worries flooding back for both of you.

"Stop making me worry, could you?" Seungcheol sighed when you gave him a soft chuckle, clearly trying to downplay the issue. "Sometimes I wonder how your fragile body even handles all those stunts," he added, shaking his head.

“Fragile?” you scoffed, lightly smacking his arm. “I work out, thank you very much.”

He lifted your arm with a smirk, inspecting it playfully. “This slender little arm trying to punch a stuntman? I’m not worried about them; I’m worried about you.”

“Shut up,” you muttered with a grin, making Seungcheol laugh.

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear. His tone softened as he said, “That’s why you need to stop getting hurt, okay? I know how much you love your job, but if you want to do it for a long time, you have to take care of yourself.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his words. It was something you always told him whenever he pushed himself too hard. “Stealing my lines now?” you teased, and he chuckled warmly.

After dinner, you suggested taking a walk. Seungcheol hesitated, asking if you were too tired, but you insisted. He figured you must’ve missed him more than you were letting on, and the thought filled him with a fluttery warmth he couldn’t quite explain.

As the two of you strolled down the quiet street, the chill of the night air began to creep in. Seungcheol noticed you shivering and immediately shrugged off his jacket, wrapping it snugly around your shoulders.

“Such a gentleman,” you teased with a playful smile, and he let out a small laugh, shaking his head.

“You know I’d do anything for you, right?” Seungcheol said shyly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked up at him, your lips curling into a smile as you clung to his arm. “Anything?” you challenged with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Would you kill someone for me?”

Seungcheol’s brows furrowed, though his lips twitched with amusement. “Not to that scale. Know your place!” he shot back, earning a soft laugh from you.

"Are you happy with me?" Seungcheol’s voice broke the comfortable silence as he reached for your hand, holding it firmly before swinging it lightly, a playful gesture to get your attention. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and you couldn’t help but smile at the warmth radiating from him.

You nodded eagerly, the sincerity in your expression clear. "I think you’re one of the very few people who can make me this happy," you admitted, your words filled with genuine affection.

His brows furrowed almost immediately, and he stopped walking, a playful pout forming on his lips. "I’m not the only one?" he asked, feigning offense.

You chuckled, amused by his theatrics. "Know your place," you teased, leaning closer as a mischievous grin spread across your face.

His pout melted into a radiant smile, his dimple making a brief appearance. "I was kidding earlier, babe," he said softly, though his playful tone lingered as he began walking backward to face you, still holding your hand securely in his.

Seungcheol's gaze lingered on you, his eyes warm and filled with adoration. After a moment, he raised a brow and asked, “Can I stay the night?” The flirty tilt of his tone made you raise yours in mock disbelief.

“Isn’t this the first time you’re actually asking?” you questioned, suppressing a laugh as you tilted your head.

He nodded, chuckling at your amused expression. “I know, I know. I must be the worst boyfriend, huh? I never ask for consent, I won’t kill anyone for my girlfriend, and to top it all off, I make fun of her slender arms.”

You gasped in mock outrage and raised your hand to playfully slap his arm, but he anticipated it and bolted ahead, laughter echoing through the quiet park near the restaurant. The chase was on, and you found yourself running after him, your laughter mingling with his in the cool night air.

That night, before heading home, the park became your private playground, filled with stolen moments of joy and carefree laughter. You hoped, for both your sakes, that no paparazzi managed to capture the scene.

*

You entered your apartment, Seungcheol trailing behind you. Though it wasn’t as luxurious or spacious as Seungcheol’s place, it carried a charm he adored—you. Every corner of your home was filled with your scent, your presence, and your personality. To him, it wasn’t just a place—it was a sanctuary, his sanctuary.

“Home sweet home,” you muttered, kicking off your shoes. Seungcheol smiled, watching as you settled in, your energy shifting into the comfort of your space.

As usual, Jibby, your orange tabby cat, sauntered over to greet you, his tail flicking lazily behind him. The cat had been your loyal companion ever since you rescued him on a shooting set two years ago. Predictably, Jibby ignored Seungcheol entirely, keeping his amber eyes locked on you with unwavering devotion.

“Still no love for me, huh?” Seungcheol joked, crouching to scratch Jibby behind the ears, only to receive a flick of the tail in return. “This cat’s got some serious attitude.”

You chuckled, picking up Jibby and holding him close. “He’s selective. He knows who pays the rent around here.”

As you placed Jibby back on the floor, you noticed strands of his fur scattered everywhere. “Oh, Jibby! Your fur’s everywhere!” you exclaimed, brushing some off your pants.

Seungcheol nodded in agreement, crouching to inspect the floor. “It’s not even summer, and he’s already shedding like crazy. You think he’s stressed?”

Your face filled with concern as you knelt beside Jibby, running your hands gently over his fur. “Oh no, Jibby. What’s wrong, baby? Are you okay?”

Before you could continue, Jibby let out a loud, startling meow, making both you and Seungcheol jump. The sound was completely out of character—Jibby was always a calm and quiet cat.

“That’s...new,” Seungcheol said, frowning. “I’ve never heard him meow like that before.”

Your concern deepened, and as if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Opening it, you found your building’s security guard standing there. “Sorry to bother you,” he said, his tone apologetic. “We got a report from your neighbor. They said your cat’s been meowing loudly for hours. Is everything okay?”

You turned back to Jibby, the worry evident in your eyes. “I don’t know,” you admitted, stroking his fur as he let out another sharp meow. “I think something’s wrong.”

That night, sleep was the last thing on your mind. You stayed up with Jibby, trying to comfort him as his restless meows continued. Seungcheol, sensing how stressed you were, insisted on staying over. When he saw how exhausted you looked around 3 a.m., he gently took over, cradling Jibby in his arms while you rested on the couch.

By dawn, it was clear Jibby needed professional care. “I’ll take him to the vet,” Seungcheol offered, his voice soft but firm. “You’ve got an early schedule, and I can handle this.”

You hesitated, guilt flickering in your eyes. “Are you sure? You’ve already—”

“Hey,” he interrupted, giving you a reassuring smile. “Jibby’s family. And family takes care of each other.”

As you watched him gently place Jibby into the carrier, whispering soothing words to the stressed cat, you felt a swell of gratitude and love for the man who had seamlessly woven himself into your life—and Jibby’s too.

The next day, Seungcheol received a call from the vet. The feline, Jibby, was missing home and showing signs of increased stress. Hearing this, Seungcheol couldn’t help but worry. You were out of town for a shooting schedule and wouldn’t be back until the next day, so Seungcheol decided to take matters into his own hands. He asked his manager to help him pick up Jibby from the vet, determined to make the cat feel better.

Driving to your apartment with Jibby in the passenger seat was no small task. The cat meowed incessantly, his cries echoing through the car. Seungcheol tried speaking to him in the same soft, soothing tone he had heard you use countless times. “Hey, buddy, we’re going home. You’ll feel better soon, I promise,” he said, glancing over at Jibby. But his attempts were futile; the cat’s distress didn’t subside, and Seungcheol found himself understanding your concern on a much deeper level.

Once they arrived, Seungcheol texted you: “Jibby’s home safe now. Don’t worry, I’ve got him.”

He set down Jibby’s carrier, opened it, and placed some food in the bowl. He watched as the cat cautiously stepped out, sniffing around before beginning to eat. Gradually, Jibby seemed to relax.

Seungcheol didn’t turn on the lights, thinking it might overwhelm Jibby. Instead, he opened the curtains slightly, letting the moonlight bathe the room in a soft glow. Leaning back on the couch, he kept an eye on the cat, who finally settled beside him.

“You finally opened up to me, huh, Jibby?” Seungcheol murmured, his voice tinged with amusement. It felt like a small victory to earn even a fraction of the cat’s trust.

Suddenly, the sound of the passcode being entered broke the serene moment. Seungcheol sat up, his body tensing. You weren’t supposed to be home until tomorrow. Who could it be?

The door creaked open, and a shadowy figure in a hoodie stepped inside. Jibby’s demeanor shifted instantly; he bolted toward the figure, his fur standing on end as he hissed and meowed angrily.

Seungcheol’s heart pounded as he rose from the couch, flipping on the lights. “Who are you?” he barked, his voice filled with authority. The intruder froze for a second before bolting for the door.

Not wasting a moment, Seungcheol dashed after him. The man was just reaching the emergency exit when Seungcheol grabbed him by the hoodie and shoved him against the wall with a force that came from pure adrenaline.

“Who are you?!” Seungcheol growled, his voice dangerously low as he pressed the man harder against the wall, preventing any chance of escape. “Why are you here? Why do you know my girlfriend’s passcode?”

The intruder struggled, but Seungcheol’s grip was unyielding. The hours he’d spent learning jiu-jitsu were finally paying off. His sharp eyes scanned the area until he spotted a CCTV camera. Without hesitation, he dragged the man into its view, ensuring the footage would capture everything.

Jibby followed, his meows loud and furious as if scolding the man himself. The cat even swiped at the intruder’s legs, his claws adding to the chaos.

Moments later, two security guards arrived, their faces a mix of concern and confusion. “What’s going on here?” one of them asked.

Seungcheol’s jaw tightened as he explained, his voice steady but laced with anger. “This guy broke into my girlfriend’s apartment. He knew her passcode. I caught him before he could get away.”

The guards immediately restrained the man, apologizing profusely to Seungcheol. “We’ll handle this. Thank you for acting quickly, sir,” one of them said as they led the intruder away.

Seungcheol stood tall in front of the man sitting tied to the chair in the dimly lit security room. The sight of him was sickening. Moments earlier, Seungcheol had watched the CCTV footage of this guy sneaking into your apartment multiple times in recent days. A wave of anger surged through him as he pieced things together. Was this the reason Jibby had been so stressed lately?

Seungcheol’s hand instinctively went to rub Jibby, who sat calmly in his arms, a stark contrast to the turmoil bubbling inside him. The cat, ever so loyal, seemed to sense his unease.

The man muttered something under his breath, barely audible. “I’m just a fan…”

Seungcheol’s blood boiled at those words. He stepped closer, his voice sharp and unwavering. “No fan should do this. You’re not a fan—you’re a criminal!” He clenched his fists, the urge to lash out barely held in check.

The security guards standing nearby intervened, stepping between Seungcheol and the intruder. “Sir, please, the cops are on their way. We need your cooperation,” one of them said firmly, trying to de-escalate the situation.

But Seungcheol wasn’t ready to let it go. He glared at the man, his voice dripping with contempt. “What did you do? Did you plant a camera or something? Huh?” He leaned in, his intense gaze locking on the man, pressing him for answers.

The intruder hesitated, his eyes darting nervously before he gave a reluctant nod. That was all it took. Rage exploded in Seungcheol as he handed Jibby to a nearby guard before grabbing the man by his collar.

“You sick—” Seungcheol growled, but before he could finish or act on his anger, the security team pulled him back, their firm grip reminding him to maintain control.

“Mr. Choi, we’ve got this. Let us handle it,” one of the guards reassured him.

Seungcheol’s chest heaved as he let go, glaring daggers at the man who cowered in the chair.

Seungcheol stormed out of the security room, his frustration bubbling over as he marched toward the head of security standing nearby.

“How did this even happen?” Seungcheol’s voice was sharp, cutting through the tense atmosphere. “Your job is to protect her and everyone in this building. Do you even realize how badly you’ve failed?”

The head of security looked uneasy but tried to maintain composure. “Sir, we’re investigating the breach—”

“Investigating?” Seungcheol scoffed, his voice rising. “This isn’t some minor mistake! That man entered her home multiple times, and you didn’t notice? What if she had been home alone? Can you guarantee what that bastard could’ve done to her?” His voice cracked slightly at the end, the thought of you in danger overwhelming him.

“Mr. Choi, I assure you—”

“No!” Seungcheol cut him off, stepping closer. “You can’t assure me of anything. You couldn’t even keep a stranger out of her home! She trusted this place to be safe, and you let her down.”

The head of security hesitated, clearly struggling to respond, as Seungcheol continued. “Do you know how terrified she’ll be when she finds out? Do you know how hard she works, how much she sacrifices, only to come home to this?”

Taking a deep breath, he added, “I don’t care what it takes—double the patrols, update your system, install better cameras, do something. Because if this happens again, I swear, there’ll be hell to pay.”

The head of security nodded quickly. “Understood, Mr. Choi. We’ll prioritize this immediately. I’ll personally oversee the updates and report back.”

Turning on his heel, Seungcheol made his way back to your apartment with Jibby settled on his arms. As he entered, he set Jibby down gently and sighed, his heart still racing. His protective instincts were on overdrive, and all he wanted was to make sure you were safe.

He sent you another text:

“Call me when you can.”

Seungcheol leaned back on the couch, his gaze shifting to Jibby, who was curled up on the carpet, seemingly calm after the ordeal. The sight of the cat, finally at ease, should’ve been comforting, but it wasn’t.

The thought of leaving you and Jibby alone in this apartment, even for a second, made his stomach twist. He sat forward, rubbing his temples as his mind raced. “I can’t just leave you here,” he muttered, as if Jibby could understand.

Decision made, Seungcheol stood and began gathering a few of Jibby’s essentials. He packed the cat’s food, a couple of toys, and the small bed you’d bought for him. Jibby tilted his head curiously, his tail flicking as he watched Seungcheol move around.

“You’re coming with me, buddy,” Seungcheol said softly, crouching down to scratch behind Jibby’s ears. “At least until we know this place is safe again. No arguments, okay?”

Jibby responded with a low purr, and Seungcheol took it as agreement.

*

"Why is he in your place?" you asked, your laughter spilling through the phone as you watched Jibby sprawled comfortably beside Seungcheol on his couch. His home looked warm and inviting in the dim lighting, and even through the screen, you could see how relaxed Jibby seemed.

Seungcheol smiled at your reaction, his voice softening. "Jibby feels at home here. I think he loves my place. Isn’t that right, Jibby? You want to live here with me?"

As if on cue, Jibby let out a soft meow and snuggled closer into Seungcheol’s arm, his orange fur brushing against Seungcheol’s sweater. You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief.

"I left him with you for one day, and now you two are best friends? This is betrayal," you teased, though your heart warmed at the sight of them together.

Seungcheol laughed, patting Jibby gently on his back. "Oh, it’s not betrayal. He actually loves me—he just doesn’t want to make you jealous."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. "Sure, sure. Next thing I know, you’ll be telling me he’s moving in with you."

Seungcheol tilted his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "Actually, I was thinking you both could. I mean, look at him. He’s practically claimed my couch already."

Your laugh turned into a soft sigh. "Babe, you’re joking, right?"

"Am I?" He raised an eyebrow, his tone playful but his expression growing serious. "Think about it. Jibby clearly loves it here. My place is bigger and you wouldn’t have to worry about leaving him when you’re out for work. Plus..."—his voice softened—"I’d get to see you every day."

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the earnestness in his words. "Baby, are you actually suggesting I move in with you?"

"Why not?" He shrugged, but the hopeful look in his eyes betrayed how much he meant it. "It makes sense. Jibby’s happy here, and I’d feel better knowing you’re both safe. You can have your own space, do things your way. No pressure, but... I’d really like it if you were here."

Your gaze shifted to Jibby, who was now fully sprawled out on Seungcheol’s lap, purring softly. The sight was oddly comforting, and you couldn’t deny how much you missed Seungcheol already, even though you’d only been apart for a day.

"I don’t know," you said hesitantly, though your voice wavered with the idea already taking root in your mind. "It’s a big step."

Seungcheol leaned closer to the camera, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Big steps aren’t so scary when you’re not taking them alone, you know. Just think about it, okay?"

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you nodded, unable to suppress the smile that crept onto your face. "I’ll think about it."

Seungcheol grinned, the kind of grin that made your chest feel warm. "Good. Jibby and I will be waiting."

The sight of him and Jibby, so at ease together, made you wonder if moving in wasn’t such a crazy idea after all.

End.

[mintmatcha]

wow actually going insane over the restaurant au I like need to know if reader even has a chance with him/finds out they have a chance… because like man I’ve SEEN situations like this irl and it always turns out bad like. they’re gonna get married and it’s gonna be fuckin awful. ur dialogue is so good and natural and believable and even though the snippets are like not business hour snippets I literally feel customer service anxiety while reading each one (in a good way!!!! I’m like how the fuck did you build the atmosphere in a way that puts me there!!!!) anyway just wanted to stop by and say I’m going insane over this + thank you

I think reader almost gives up--

until Kirishima and Izuku, Bakugo's friends, come to the restaurant. She's their server and does her best to go above and beyond, as usual. They're sweet customers -katsuki would kill them if they weren't!- and they tip you so well--

and you catch a bit of their conversation.

"That's bakugo's girl, huh?" the redhead says and your heart almost stops. His girl? You're on the other side of their booth, behind the divider, completely out of their sight line. "She's a cutie."

"-And sweet."

"So sweet!" Kirishima laughs, incredulous. "I was kind of worried she was going to be like--"

"Shh! Don't say her name too loud." Izuku groans. "I'm afraid she's going to swoop in out of nowhere and ruin everything."

So his friends don't like Cami either. Not surprising.

"I see why she's threatened though. I think he really likes this one."

"He's crazy about her." Kirishima says. "He just needs to get his act together and leave Cams-- why are you making that face?"

Izuku sucks air through his teeth. "I'm not supposed to tell you."

"Did he leave her?!"

"No, but..." Izuku's voice drops so low that you can barely make out what he's whispering. "He's been sleeping on my couch the past couple weeks."

[chukys-mouthguard]

good graces

you do something suspect, this cute ass bye-bye

featuring -> william nylander x female reader

genre -> angst/fluff

word count -> 1.35k

-> short n’ sweet masterlist

“Have you seen Willy on Spittin’ Chiclets yet?”

Your friend called to you from the kitchen as she started on making drinks while you were taking a bit longer on your makeup than you would’ve liked.

“Fuck I forgot, let me pull it up.”

You and William had been seeing each other for almost nine months now, though not putting a label on it things were pretty serious. Having taken numerous trips together, William constantly spoiling you, all while telling you he couldn’t imagine his life not getting to be your guy.

He’d gotten invited onto the Spittin’ Chiclets podcast and you were excited to watch. It was one of your favorite shows, but you also were anticipating them to ask William some hilarious questions.

“Okay so, we gotta ask. You’re a young guy here in Toronto, dare I say you’re a stud! What’s the dating scene like here in Toronto? You tied down by a lucky lady, what do you have going on?”

William chuckled as you quickly flashed your eyes to the screen of your cell phone, seeing the way he blushed at them asking the question. While you knew this podcast had been filmed several weeks ago, you were still aware of what his answer should be, at least from your perspective. But as he hesitated, and stumbled over his words you could feel your grip on your eyeliner tightening.

“Yeah um, I’m definitely here for a good time. Not really tied down, just enjoying my time here for sure with whoever comes into my life. But, I like to think I do alright for myself.”

Pausing the video you emerged from the bathroom to find your friend with the same look of shock on her face as you currently had on your own.

“Are you joking?”

“He’s fucking dead. Not really tied down? Is he stupid?”

You couldn’t believe William had actually said those words, not really tied down. Had the last nine months been something casual and meant nothing to him? Here you were ready to go out to dinner with him and some friends, but now all you could repeat through your brain was that interview.

“What are you gonna do?”

You headed over to the bar cart, grabbing a shot glass and the tequila. Throwing back a shot before you hurried back to finish your makeup.

“I can’t bail, but he’s going to see a side of me he won’t like if he doesn’t acknowledge it, that's for sure.”

You’d arrived at the restaurant, the few tequila shots you’d tossed back calming your frustrations a bit, though you were still upset with William. Not wanting to ruin the night you figured the least you could do was power through a dinner and not give away any sign you were unhappy with him.

But as the dinner unfolded, it was as if anything William did was coming across as suspect. The way he smiled at the waitress, calling her sweetheart anytime she’d checked in or brought him something. The way he would place his hand atop hers anytime she’d stop by the table and ask if he needed anything. Your anger only building as you thought back to his comments on the podcast, rolling your eyes thinking that everything with him was just a casual fling to him. Despite how much he’d meant to you.

He caught you staring at him from across the table, you’d opted to sit across from him versus next to him so you could give yourself a bit of space to try and give him the opportunity to notice your mood. But he didn’t necessarily catch on, acting as if things were normal other than where you’d chosen to sit.

With dinner wrapping up, you’d all chosen to go to one of the bars down the street. William now noticed how you were walking arm in arm with your friend rather than by his side. He called out to you, simply getting the cold shoulder as you elected to keep walking as if you hadn’t heard him. Your mind focused on getting to the bar and getting some more drinks in your system, needing to channel your frustrations through alcohol and dancing.

William opted to sit with the group, watching you dancing on the floor with your friend. Figuring that he’d done something to piss you off, but he didn’t know what. Usually the two of you could talk through things, but it was clear you had no desire to talk to him tonight. And he knew better than to push you or force anything on you, simply giving you the space you wanted.

His eyes followed you as you made your way to the bar, a guy soon approaching you as you ordered a drink. William fully expected you to kindly dismiss the man, but instead he saw you laughing and smiling. Your hand resting on the man’s forearm as you were clearly enjoying yourself. He tossed back his drink in frustration as he stood up, making his way to the bar to step in before you’d do anything further to really anger him.

“Hey, everything okay?”

William smiled down at you as he rested a hand at your lower back, flashing his eyes to the gentleman with a bit of a glare. Only to be met with a smile as the man had recognized the blonde haired Maple Leaf that stood before him.

“Yeah, William, you know Joey. Joey Loperfido, outfield for the Blue Jays. He’s actually a really big Leafs fan!”

“How are you man? I’m a big fan of yours as well! I was actually at the game last week, great win!”

The two of them shook hands, though Joey sensed some tension and kindly excused himself.

“Really Willy? I was making friends.”

“Friends? Is that what you called that? I saw from a mile away you were flirting with the guy!”

He scoffed as he rolled his eyes, taking the spot in front of you at the bar as he signaled the bartender for another drink.

“Like you care? This is just enjoying time with whoever comes into your life, remember?”

William looked at you confused, unsure as to what you were talking about. Making you laugh as you sipped your drink, rolling your eyes as you found it hilarious he was trying to play dumb.

“I heard you on the Spittin’ Chiclets podcast, don’t play dumb! Has the last nine months meant nothing to you? I mean, you tell me all the time how much you love being my guy, but could’ve fooled me with the answer you gave Biz and Whit.”

William immediately brought a hand to his face, groaning as he realized now what you were referring to.

“Y/n, baby, look at me.”

He brought his hands to your face, despite your trying to push him away. A smile on his face as he looked at you.

“The Spittin’ Chiclets podcast is the last place I would ever want to confirm or announce you as my girlfriend.”

Your eyes went wide hearing him call you his girlfriend, the title not being something he’d ever used before. And while you wanted to be mad at him for what he said, it was hard hearing how amazing it felt hearing him finally call you his girlfriend.

“Wait, like, we are official now? I’m your girlfriend?”

“If you’ll have me as your boyfriend? Though after tonight I’m not so sure.”

Quickly you pulled his lips to yours, feeling amazing to kiss him after being distant from him all night. He smiled into the kiss, assuming that was your answer. And it was a good enough answer for him.

“But so help me god William Nylander, if you ever say some dumb shit like that again, you do not want to bring out my mean side.”

He chuckled at your scolding as he stole another kiss from you.

“Oh trust me babe, tonight I got a taste of it tonight and I’m staying in your good graces if it’s the last thing I do!”

[milla-frenchy]

911

1k4 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 Summary: you and Joel go out on a rainy night. His protective side turns you on Warnings: 18+ mdni. teasing, footplay, dirty talk, rough sex, piv, oral (m). Light violence (not towards reader). Reader’s hair can be pulled.  No age specified, no outbreak a/n: couple from the 5 days collection. Can be read alone. This is for the April showers challenge by @undercoverpena Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta reading 💕

Series masterlist | Masterlist

***********

You and Joel were having dinner at a restaurant. Night had already fallen, and the rain was painting the city streets in darker shades. While waiting for dessert, you breathed out on the window and drew a heart. You smiled shyly, and Joel thought you were the sweetest woman he had ever met. When you slid your shoeless foot from his calf to his crotch, he thought that you were also the sexiest woman he had ever met.

“We haven’t tested this bathroom yet, Joel,” you said, gently stroking your lip with your index finger. Your shy smile was forgotten, giving way to another kind of smile. Without taking his eyes off you, he grabbed your foot and pressed it against his shaft.

“Nah. Wanna make you scream on my cock tonight. I can’t give it to you good here, baby. Wanna do it right.”

Your pussy clenched, and you tried to squeeze your thighs together to relieve the pressure between them. But he didn’t release your foot, smirking as he saw you grimace in your chair.

The waiter set down your desserts, cutting off the conversation momentarily. You brought the spoon to your mouth, keeping it in longer than necessary.

“Mmm…that’s the best flavor I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

He looked at you, his narrowed eyes glinting.

“Is that right?”

His eyes moved down from yours to your lips, and he pressed your foot tighter against his cock. He grabbed his glass with his free hand and took a sip. It looked tiny between his fingers. And you couldn't help but think about moments when he would push them into your pussy and make you come on them. You tried to calm down as his grin widened. Of course he knew exactly what you were thinking about. You cleared your throat and asked: “are you jealous of a spoon, Mr. Miller?”

“I think I could be jealous of just about anything that comes near you, sweetheart.”

You smiled and took another spoonful.

You walked out of the restaurant and headed towards the parking lot. Joel had his arm around your shoulder, yours was around his waist. The rain started to fall again and you took shelter under a porch of one of the buildings. Joel hugged you and kissed you, his big hands squeezing your ass under your dress. You whined, eager to finally be home and feel his naked body against yours. Two men approached, and one of them said, “nice ass, wanna share?” Joel turned towards them, fists clenched.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

He stood in front of you, interposing himself between you and them. They were young. Early twenties.

“I said," Nice ass, wanna share?”. Are you deaf, man?”

Neither he nor you had time to anticipate what happened next. When Joel punched him, you heard a bone crack and the man knelt on the ground. The one who accompanied him approached, hesitantly.

“Get the fuck outta here, kid. Or I ain’t gonna break just this asshole’s nose.”

The guy looked at his friend and ran away. Joel glanced down at the kneeling man, then back at you. Tilting his chin towards you, asking silently if you were ok. You nodded. Joel looked around, and saw a piece of wood on the ground. He grabbed it, before approaching the young man. He held out his hands and shouted “I’m leaving, I’m leaving!” I'm sorry!!" before getting up and running away too.

Joel dropped the piece of wood and moved closer to you, covered your cheeks with his hands, and asked “are you ok, sweetheart?”

“I…fuck, yeah. I think so. What the fuck is wrong with these guys?!”

He took your hand, and said “yeah, I know baby, but it’s ok now. Come on, we can’t stay here.”

You ran to another street under the heavy rain, and Joel didn't keep his eyes off the surroundings. Finally you arrived at the underground tunnel and stopped at the stairs. You were soaked by the rain.

“Okay, let’s wait here until the rain calms down a bit”, he said.

He held you close, and you couldn’t stop thinking about how he protected you, his cool control of the situation, as if he had never doubted his superiority over them. You kissed him, your tongue sliding between his lips. You pressed yourself against him, and slipped your hand between your two bodies and put it on his crotch.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked, his piercing gaze searching for yours. You looked up at him and your stare left no doubt about what you desired.

“Fuck…Did that turn you on?”

You nodded, stroking his cock through his jeans. He was already hard.

“Claim me”, you said.

“What? Claim…here?”

“Yeah, fuck me here. Now. I need it.”

He held your chin between his fingers, trying to read you again. Searching for an ounce of hesitation. But there wasn't any. You slipped your hand into your panties and collected your slick on your fingers before showing him your hand. He took your hand in his and licked your fingers. He groaned. “Shit, ok. ‘m gonna fuck you here, if you want it that bad.” 

He turned you around, pinning you against the cold wall of the tunnel. His fingers eagerly unzipped his jeans before releasing his hard cock. He grabbed your hips, pulling them towards him. He pulled up your dress and pushed your panties to the side, before sliding his fingers along your soaked slit. He hissed through his teeth.

“You’re the filthiest girl I’ve ever known.”

He grabbed his cock in his hand and barely slid it between your folds. You held your breath, ready to feel his cock sink into your core. You wanted him to own you. He bottomed out in one go, and your cheek rubbed against the stone.

“Fuckin’...tight,” he grunted. “That’s what you want? Being railed in a tunnel at night?”

“Yes, fuck….”

“I'm sure you'd like someone to catch us here. So that some guy could see you, hear you moan while you're getting fucked. Let him see that you’re fuckin’ mine.”

He grabbed your hair in his tight fist, and started fucking you hard, grunting every time he thrust.

“Answer me.”

“Yeah, you know I’d love that.” His hand released your hair and it slid down along your breasts, down to your panties.

“Yeah...You’re gonna come on it, now. Wanna feel this pussy clenching me.”

His finger rolled over your clit, as his cock kept pounding you.

“Damn, been hard since the restaurant and the show you gave me there. Fuck.”

He fucked you fast and hard, not letting his fingers leave your clit even for a second. His cock was brushing your g-spot continuously, and you felt your orgasm building. This mixture of pleasure and pain, his cock brutally parting your folds every time he thrust in, his fingers on you. He knew for a long time how to make you cum in a few minutes. When you clenched his cock, your moans echoed in the tunnel. 

You pulled away from him and got down on your knees, your dress falling down your thighs.

“Claim me,” you said again, your eyes raised to him.

“Fuck,” he said, quickly jerking his entire length in front of your face. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, waiting. Your eyes were fixed on each other.

“Shit…gonna paint your face.”

He grunted when the first spurts of cum hit your lips, tongue and chin, and he placed his tip on your tongue for the next two spurts. Your eyes were still fixed on him.

He thrust into your mouth, and you felt him twitch again, until he emptied his balls completely. He rested his hand against the wall so as not to lose his balance as you sucked his cock, swallowing his hot load.

“Fuck, baby….” he was trying to catch his breath, while you were keeping his throbbing cock in the warmth of your mouth.

Finally, he grabbed your elbow, helped you up and kissed you, tasting himself on your tongue. You heard the sirens of an ambulance in the distance. He tucked his cock in his pants, took your hand, and you two walked towards the parking lot.

“Told you I wanna make you scream on my cock, tonight. Come on, I’m not done with ya.”

***************

Same couple : 5 days collection

***************

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[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Vienna. One.

Everything is the same. Nothing has changed. Everything has changed. Nothing is the same.

pairing - carmen berzatto x reader

warnings - cursing. references to mikey’s death.

word count - 2k

authors note - strap in, this one’s gonna be a rollercoaster!! can’t wait to get into this a little more. I love this show, and we’re gonna have so much fun getting lost in that world. this series is going to make you laugh, cry, scream, and want to throw your phone at my head. get ready <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

part two. series masterlist. inbox. masterlist.

home (hōm) - the place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Everything is the same. Nothing has changed. Everything has changed. Nothing is the same.

You’ve been staring at the outside of the building for fifteen minutes.

It looks so different that you had to check the street sign, ensuring you are where you thought you were.

The Bear.

It was The Beef, the last time you were here. Stood in this very spot, tears dripping down your face, you bid farewell to the life you once knew.

Now you’re back.

It looks slick, professional, high end. It’s all polished glass and sharp edges, a drastic contrast from what once stood here.

You wonder what Michael would think.

The thought sends a pang of sadness through your heart, which you shake off as quickly as possible. Today should be a happy day, you remind yourself. Emphasis on should.

You take a deep breath and try the door of the restaurant, surprised when you find it unlocked. Walking inside, you have to stop and take in what’s in front of you.

No more sticky floors or peeling paint or arcade machines. No more flickering lights or red pleather booths or plastic cutlery.

The restaurant you’re currently stood in is slick, spotlessly clean, perfectly laid out. It’s like something out of a magazine. You’re in shock, bewildered by the transformation.

“Holy shit.”

The kitchen door has swung open, and across from you stands Richie Jerimovich.

“Am I hallucinating, or what?”

You laugh, and before you know it, he’s striding towards you, throwing his arms out for you to jump into. He wraps you in a bear hug, spinning you in circles like when you were a kid. You’re dizzy when he puts you down, his hand grabbing your shoulder to steady you on your feet.

“You hallucinate often these days, old man?”

“Old man,” he scoffs. “Yeah fuckin’ right. Do I look old to you?”

“You want me to answer that?”

He shoves you playfully, shaking his head.

“Thought I was seeing ghosts when I saw you stood in here.”

“If anyone’s hallucinating, it’s me. How… how did you do this? It’s like a whole new restaurant, Cousin.”

“Pretty cool, huh?”

“Really cool. I think I stood and stared at the sign outside for like twenty minutes. Seriously.”

He throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in.

“He’d have liked it, right?”

You can hear the slight waver in his voice, well disguised insecurity peeking through.

“He’d have fucking loved it, Richie.”

He presses a kiss into your hair, bumping your hip with his affectionately.

“So what, you’re like, a big boss here now?”

“I’m in charge of front of house, actually. I’ve been professionally trained and shit. Oh, guess what?”

“What?”

“I wear suits now. Every night.”

“You’re kidding. Bet you wear them well, too,” you tease, laughing when he kicks your foot with his. “You always scrubbed up well.”

“You gotta see it for yourself. We’ll make you up a table tonight, get you to try everything.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay. I’m not gonna put you guys out like that.”

“Vi, you’re not putting us out. And you and I both know Carmen isn’t going to take no for an answer.”

Your heart skips a beat at the very mention of his name.

“I just don’t want to be an inconvenience.”

“Babe,” he practically whines, pulling you into him, “you are never an inconvenience. For any of us.”

“Okay, okay,” you relent, resting your head on his arm. “I can’t wait.”

Richie grins, excitement vibrating off him.

“Okay, let me look at you. You look good, Vi!”

You mock a twirl, spinning with a curtsy for good measure.

“I like your hair like this,” he compliments, plucking at a strand. “Suits you.”

“Thanks, Casanova,” you laugh. “How’s Eva?”

“Oh, she’s good. So good. Did you see all the pictures I posted from the Taylor Swift concert? I’m officially the best dad in the world.”

“I did, and they were the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. She’s so big, now. Can’t wait to see her soon.”

“I’m sure she’ll be excited to see you. Cousin tells her stories about you all the time.”

“…he does?”

“Are you kidding? Of course he does. Sugar does too.”

A cool sense of relief washes over you. It’s nice to know that they haven’t forgotten about you, as stupid as it sounds. There’s something comforting about knowing they still talk about you, even when you’re gone.

He plants a kiss on the crown of your head as the kitchen door flies open once again. Marcus, Tina and Ebra file in, along with a girl you’ve never met before. They’re looking at you with curious expressions on their faces when you hear it.

“Does anyone know where the fuck I put my good knife?”

When he doesn’t get an answer, he strides into the restaurant, stopping in his tracks at the sight of you at Richie’s side.

He tries to speak, but he can’t.

Instead, he practically runs across the room, wrapping his arms around you as your feet leave the floor.

You bury your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in the smell of home that you’ve missed so much. He’s murmuring into your ear, but you can’t for the life of you work out what he’s saying. It’s all low and slow, careful to not be overheard. You tangle your fingers into the hair at the back of his head, nudging his face back into your shoulder. He presses a gentle kiss to your skin, which sends a shiver down your spine that you’re praying he doesn’t notice.

Eventually, after what feels like hours, he pulls away to look at you. His hands are on your waist as if they belong there, as yours cradle his face.

“You’re home.”

He breathes it, as if he can’t quite catch a lungful of air.

“I’m home,” you say, sweeping your thumbs across his cheekbones. “You’re home.”

“I’m home.”

You’re completely unaware of the group of people watching you. They all know they should tear their eyes away, but they can’t seem to. It’s new, seeing Carmy like this with someone. They’re all wondering what the hell has happened.

“Fuck, I missed you.”

“I missed you,” he laughs, pulling you back in for another hug.

Pressing a kiss into your hair, he rocks you slightly, as if you’re both completely thrown off balance by the presence of the other.

You step back, giving him a once over.

“I like your tattoos, Carmen. Very hipster.”

“Shut up,” he chuckles, shoving you lightly. You shove him right back, both of you grinning like idiots.

His eyes flicker up, catching Sydney’s gaze. She looks completely bewildered, and a little uncomfortable. Carmy tugs you into his side, turning to face the crowd.

“Syd, this is Vienna. Vienna, Sydney. The rest of you guys know her.”

They all smile, meeting you in the middle for hugs and hellos. You hold your arms out to Sydney, who steps into them somewhat apprehensively, giving you a quick squeeze.

“My name isn’t actually Vienna, but it’s been a nickname for as long as I can remember. So you can call me Vienna, or Vi, or Enna. I get them all.”

She nods, visibly still a little confused. The door swings open one last time, and out walks Natalie.

“Oh my God!”

You give her a careful hug, on account of the bump she’s sporting.

“Oh, you look so beautiful, Sugar. You’re glowing!”

“It’s sweat from the kitchen babe, I swear.”

The blonde sits down at a table, and you join her, eager to catch up with one of your oldest girl friends. As you do, Sydney and Carmy reconvene a distance away.

“She’s pretty.”

“Yeah, she is.”

Carmen’s watching you as you talk to his sister, as if he’s worried you’ll bolt out the door at any given moment.

“Your… girlfriend?”

“Oh, no,” he’s suddenly a little flustered, hand scratching the back of his neck. “Best friend. We’ve known each other forever. Literally. Our mom’s had us a day apart. We were neighbours, grew up on the same street.”

“Ah. And she’s been away?”

“For a long time. Think it’s about five years, maybe more. I went to culinary school, she went to art school, both ended up living in different places.”

“Did you know she was coming back?”

“Jesus, Syd, is this twenty fuckin’ questions?”

“Sorry,” she says sheepishly, fiddling with the end of her braid. “You just seemed surprised to see her.”

“Yeah. I was. Had no idea she was back in town.”

“Did you guys keep in touch?”

He gives a look that says really?, but answers the question anyway.

“Not as much as we should have. It’s hard, being so far apart. We saw each other a few times, texted and called when we could. But it’s not the same.”

He glances in your direction to find you laughing with Natalie, a delicate hand placed on her growing stomach. Nat looks happy, carefree, like the young girl she once was. You seem to have that effect on people.

Richie pulls out a chair next to the pair, knocking into Carmy’s shoulder as he sits down.

“Told Vi we’d give her a table here tonight, so she can try everything. You should join her, catch up.”

Carmy reacts as if it’s the stupidest idea he’s ever heard, so Richie continues quickly.

“We need to be able to run this shit without you. One evening with you dining instead of cookin’ won’t hurt.”

“We’ve done it before,” Sydney adds, alluding to that fateful opening night. Richie snickers. Carmy doesn’t.

“And you’ll be here, it’s not like you’re a thousand miles away. We’ll come out and get you if we need help, Cousin.”

Carmy’s known his answer since the very first second Richie asked the question, but he’s trying to play it cool. He doesn’t want to give away just quite how excited the thought of an entire evening with you makes him.

“Fine.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You and Sugar have ended up practically on each others laps at your table, whispering and giggling like old times. She’s telling you a story about something funny Pete said when you look over at Carmy, to find him already staring at you.

Your heart skips a beat as you catch his eyes, smiling gently at the fact he refuses to look away. He’s so timid with everyone else, so worried about what people think of him. He’s never as bold as when he’s with you.

You wink at him, quick and cheeky, and heat blooms across his cheeks instantly. He winks right back, stifling a grin by biting at his lip.

“You never told him, did you?”

Nat’s watching the two of you intently, gaze flicking back and forth between her brother and his childhood best friend.

You take a deep breath. And then another.

“No.”

“Vienna.”

Her tone is stern, almost scolding, and you suddenly feel sorry for the child who’s going to be on the receiving end of it one day soon.

“I couldn’t do it.”

She grabs your hand, resting them both in her lap.

“Secrets like that eat people alive, Vi.”

You squeeze her hand before dropping it, desperate for the conversation to be over.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll tell him when the time is right.”

“The time is never right when it comes to Carmen. You and I both know this.”

You refuse to admit she’s right, even though deep down, you know she is absolutely is.

“You haven’t told him? Richie hasn’t either?”

“It’s not our place to tell him. You have to be the one to do it.”

You inhale carefully, risking a look over to where Carmy is stood up, pointing at a table in the corner of the restaurant. He’s clearly in Chef Mode, both him and Sydney speaking in a language you can’t even begin to understand.

He catches your eye and smiles, all bright and bashful, before resuming what he was saying.

You don’t want to hurt him.

You think it might be inevitable.

Everything is the same. Nothing has changed. Everything has changed. Nothing is the same.

@agirlcandream84 @diorrfairy @raging-panda @melancholicmelanin @nolita-fairytale @jacxx2 @huang-the-geek @2guysonascooter @stxxllaaa @an0nym1ss @thereisnoowl @dreamingofleon

[creaseevans]

Jujutsu Kaisen Headcanons - Toji Fushiguro

Toji's the kind of guy...

SFW:

Toji’s the type of guy to take his time to ask you out. He’s not in a hurry and he’s exactly confident enough to know that he’s caught your eye, and that you won’t be looking away anytime soon.

You should know that if there’s a first date, there’s about to be many more. He doesn’t do this a lot. “Dating” is too much fucking time and energy—but you? You’re quite the hidden gem, found by him and worth your weight in gold and diamonds. He’s willing to try it a little while.

Toji’s the kind of guy to eat his burger in two to three bites, max. He’s got a large (and perfect) bite, like the human edition of a shark. He can fit an entire slice of large pizza in his mouth at once. Killer jawline, too. He knows how good he looks when he eats, even if it’s messy and unmannered. 

Toji’s not a jealous guy, because he’s way too secure with himself. But he is human, so it does happen from time to time. Shockingly, though, his jealousy isn’t sparked by obvious things like if someone touches you or catcalls you; he finds these hilarious, because he can just pull you into his side possessively and push the perpetrator (a bit too rough, at times) and snark something like “In your dreams, bud” or “Keep on wishing.” What does get him are simple, little things, like if a guy says something and you laugh too hard at it, or you listen too carefully to what they have to say. “So, what was so funny about what he said?” he’ll ask you, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “You know he’s a fuckin’ dork, right? He’s a loser.” Your co-worker once complimented your hairstyle in front of him (you’d clipped it up into an elegant twist) and Toji noticed you wore the style a few more times, taking a moment to admire it in the mirror. He wouldn’t let you put it up like that anymore. He got rid of the claw clip you needed for it while you weren’t home.

Toji’s the kind of guy to pretend not to know what something is just so he doesn’t have to buy it. You once spent an hour explaining to him and showing him what contact lenses are, and he kept playing stupid. “I just don’t understand what you’re talking about. There’s no such thing. I’m just gonna stick to these.”

“These” are reading glasses (he’s in his forties), but he doesn’t like to wear them around you because he hates how nerdy they look. You think they’re incredibly sexy and give him that sophisticated edge he usually skips out on.

Toji’s the kind of guy that hasn’t had a real haircut in ages. Anytime his hair is getting in his eyes he just takes a straight razor and shaves it down so long as it’s not touching his eyes anymore. When you first met him, he nearly had a mullet because the back was so neglected. You take him for haircuts now.

He’s the kind of guy that HATES tipping. You once tipped at a restaurant and he looked at you accusingly. “Why would you tip them $10? You could’ve given me that money for coffee on my way to work.”

Toji doesn’t buy you flowers (he won’t spend the money on a $28 bouquet). But if you both pass by somewhere that has flowers growing, he will rip them out to give to you. Especially if it’s off someone’s lawn. He likes to do it out of spite.

Toji doesn’t remember your birth date or anniversaries, but he does remember things like your food allergies and aversions, your favourite treats, what kind of music and movies you like, and your pet peeves. He stopped using certain slurs when he learned you didn’t approve of it. Taught his friends to stop using them, too.

Toji doesn’t have a wallet. He just stuffs everything free-reign into his pockets. You get him one for his birthday. He leaves it at home all the time. “This is why I just put everything in my pockets.”

Yeah, you moved in together pretty fast. He didn’t ask and neither did you. It just sort of happened. You guys went into a random building to “look around” (fuck in the elevators) and stumbled into an open house for one of the apartments. You live in it together now, and Toji pays 65% of the rent, which is a huge surprise because…(see next).

Toji cannot stay at one job long enough to save his life. He’s never made it past probation; the longest he stuck it out was 11 days. His resume looks like a shopping receipt, but he just can’t stand the whole bit: the office environment, the cubicles, the staff that never shut the fuck up, the constant meetings and team building exercises, signing a new birthday card every week AND tucking a bill of money into the envelope?? FUCK! He always quits before the week is up. He’ll come home and make up some excuse about being fired (he’s never been fired) and ask you to find some more job adverts for him. “This is gonna be the one, babe. I promise,” he says every time he starts somewhere new. You know it won’t be.

For the horrifying inventory of knives, blades, axes, hatchets, clubs, stars and a fucking firearm you discovered in one of the unopened boxes hidden deep into a closet (he shrugged that they were from a “past job”), Toji’s the sort of guy who’s scared of needles. Don’t talk to him about tattoos or nothing. Don’t you dare bring up vaccinations. He’ll pass out on the way to the clinic.

He doesn’t like his spine to be touched directly. It’s overstimulating and he’s quick to catch your hands when you try. Sometimes he can squeeze a bit too hard when he’s caught off guard.

Toji claims to not need deodorant. (He does need it.)

Toji doesn’t do his own laundry. One day, in the thick of a Bad Bitch episode, you put your foot down about it and told him to clean his own clothes. You then came home to him washing t-shirts and pants in the bathtub with your expensive skincare products. He used up about $300s’ worth of cleansers and scrubs in less than an hour. “I told you I’m not good at this shit!” he whined, having the audacity to play innocent. 

Toji teases you all the time about how he’s going to break your heart. Deep down, he believes that upon growing sick of his antics, you’ll actually be the one to break his; something he didn’t think he was capable of experiencing anymore. You don’t get sick of him, nor do you break his heart.

NSFW:

He takes his time to eye-fuck you, shamelessly and offensively, makes it obvious what he’s doing and leers wide when you scowl at him. He loves to show off his big, perfect teeth and wicked smile.

He’s the type of guy where when he finally does ask you out, he tells you exactly what to wear (“your littlest dress and heels”) and picks you up a few minutes late (he loves how pouty you get after waiting and almost thinking he’s about to blow you off). 

Toji’s the kind of guy to not care about being caught in public. He’ll start touching you anywhere, and he doesn’t care if it’s the first date. His fingers were already dancing on your knee and making the journey up your thigh during the car ride over. More than once, you pried his warm hand away with both of your own to hold it affectionately in your lap, your shiny eyes smiling so hard that he let you get away with being prudish about it. You missed the heat of his touch on your body right away.

He takes you to the club, buys you a couple of drinks, just enough to get you hazy and charmed. Then he takes you to the middle of the floor, and surrounded by dozens of bodies, he slinks up against you from behind to start muttering in your ear about “Why did you wear this dress? Tell me why you wore this,” while his gigantic, wandering hands grope your hips and crush them to the bone, grinding your ass back against his bricked up crotch. “Did you want me to touch you? You wanted me to do this to you, didn’t you?” As if you decided any of this.

Toji loves foreplay, for you especially. He likes to play with your tits when he knows people are looking, but the room is just dark enough and just clouded enough with smoke and machine-generated fog that nobody will actually see him rolling your nipples between the roughened pads of his fingers, your front against the wall and his front against your back. He cages you in on every side, protecting you from the world with his blanket of a body while also putting you on display every chance he gets. Your little sighs and protests of “No, Toji, stop! Someone’s gonna see,” are so precious to him. He knows someone is going to see, because someone is always looking at you. That’s the point: everyone is looking at you, but you’re only looking at and thinking of him.

He’s a narrator, surprisingly enough: everything he does to you, he describes it in your ear to the greatest extent possible. “Look how hard your nipples are getting when I tease them like this…Jesus, they’re getting so big. You never told me your tits were so soft and pretty. What if I suck on them right now? What if I sucked so hard that milk came out of them, baby? Would you let me do that?”

His favourite part of your body is your tits (see above) but your ass is a very close second. He grabs it, squeezes it, holds it, and smacks it every time you’re within reach. He wants to leave the outline of his hand on your cheek like a stencil so he can target the exact same perfect spot each time.

Toji’s the kind of guy to finger you just for fun. Whether he gets to come or not is out of the question, because watching you shake and tremble while you fuck yourself on his long, thick, knuckly digits is always a blockbuster delight. Feeling you clench up around them, periodically tighter and more delicious, is a gloat to his ego and fascination. Your delicate moans and whimpers while you spill over his palm and down his wrist is like a porno on repeat in the back of his mind, every minute of every day. And he shames you with his descriptions of it every time, because—again—he loves to narrate. “Aw, your lips are swallowing my fingers, sweetheart. Look at your pretty little pussy fluttering and pulsating while I finger you—you’re so fucking wet, princess. Why’re you so wet, hmm? You’re such a cocktease, you know that? Clenching like that, gripping me in so fucking hard—you gonna suck my cock in like that? Your pussy better sing and clench for my cock just like this, baby, just like how it is for my fingers, or I’m gonna be so upset…you don’t know what happens when my dick gets angry, do you?”

(Toji’s the kind of guy to hate condoms. He won’t wear them. Doesn’t matter what you say; don’t bother. He’ll get tested and show you that he’s clean, and he’ll (find a way to) pay for your contraceptives or Plan Bs. But he won’t wear a condom.)

He quite literally has the biggest dick you’ve ever seen. Not just in person, and not just from the fair amount of porn you’ve watched—he has the biggest dick you have ever seen. There are no arguments there. It’s a menacing thing, nearly the length of your forearm and the girth as thick as (if not more than) your wrist. He’s cut (he’s older; their generation is mostly circumcised) and clean, pubes trimmed to a stubble around the base. The length and balls are free of hair altogether. It’s a tanned colour, like the rest of his skin, but his tip is more warm toned and full of blood flow while the sac underneath is a touch darker with discolouration. His precum is translucent, almost clear (see below) and his boner looks sore to the touch.

Toji fucks. He fuuuuucks. He fucks you in positions you’ve never heard of, at angles and depths you didn’t know were possible. He actually rearranges your guts, moving everything aside to make room for himself, letting you know how deep he is when he places a hand against your navel and pushes in against the poke of his head. He loves the raspy gasp you let out when he does that. “How’s a little thing like you taking me in so deep, huh? I bet I’m hurting my little girl. I bet you never want me to stop.” You don’t, even though you always experience aftershocks and cramps when you’re done being ravaged. You don’t tell him this because the experience itself is too mesmerizing while it’s happening in real time. You also don’t tell him because deep down, you suspect that he doesn’t actually care about you enough to empathize with your pain or struggles.

He’s the kind of guy to always come inside you, no matter what. Whether it’s in your mouth or in the warm, slick confines of your lower chambers, he always finishes inside you. He doesn’t ask you if he can—and it’s not like he wouldn’t if you told him not to. He’s gonna do it anyways. His seed belongs inside of you, and there’s nothing that makes his head spin the way it does when he delivers every last drop of his offering deep into you, hoping it becomes part of you forever. He also loves watching it ooze out of you, though, and knowing he gave you more than enough to get the job done.

Oh, yeah, he wants to impregnate you. Big time. He relics the idea of his perfect genetic sequence being passed on to as many as possible. There should be miniature multiples of him running around all over the place. He used to donate sperm for cash flow All The Time in the past. He hopes to run into any potential kids he may have had/made one day, though he hopes it’s just a casual meet and greet and not, like, “Hey, I need to depend on you.” Cause he’s donated, like, A LOT of sperm, and he does not have the kind of riches it would take to sponsor almost a hundred kids.

Something about Toji screams that he wouldn’t mind sharing you with someone he trusts. He just gives off a threesome vibe, and you felt it since day one. It echoed every time he put you in a vulnerable position in public, in the way he smirked and laughed whenever men would hit on you or check you out. He “joked” with you about it a couple of times, too. “I wonder how pretty you’d look with two cocks inside of you.” “You can tell me if you want more, y’know. I don’t get offended. I know you love me too much.” He quickly laughed it off when you frowned and swatted him away. But then you met his friend—his best friend—Shiu Kong, and you knew Toji was up to something from the first moment he left you alone with him. You did end up having a threesome. You ended up having many more, in fact. And he was right: you did love him too much to think about anyone else once it was all done.

[calummss]

Baby baby | Marshall Mathers

masterlist

summary: you find out your pregnant and tell marshall

pairing: fem! reader x 90s marshall mathers/eminem

words: 880

Positive

As hard as that slap from reality was, it was the only positive thing in your life. You were young, working a part-time job to finance college. Marshall worked many jobs to provide income but it simply wasn’t enough. You could hardly keep the both of you afloat. And now a baby? Where would that money come from? How would you be able to support yourself?

Your chest tightened as you held the test in your hands, the tremors making it hard to read the letters. Ringing in your ears increased the longer you shut out the world. Picking the skin of your lips leaving you with the taste of copper, you crammed the test into your pocket, stuffing the rest of the trash away and walked to the entrance of your parent’s house, grabbing your coat and boots as well as a hat and scarf to combat the harsh Detroit winter. Walking along the streets that were covered in white frost, baby names inspired by winter popped into your mind. All you could think about was the baby. Every person you encountered: baby. Every leaf: baby. It was all you could think about.

Arriving at the restaurant Marshall was currently working at, you walked past the main entrance towards the back entrance, surrounded by trash bags leaning against trash containers. You banged your fist against the door to be sure you’d be heard, your warm breath colliding with the cold air of Detroit, constant shivers trying to keep you from freezing.

The door opened with a powerful pull, DeShaum standing in front of you with a surprised smile. ‘Y/n, what are you doin’ here?’

‘Em here?’

‘No, hello?’ He crossed his arms, his playfulness obvious.

‘Sorry, Shaun, I’m just really fucking stressed right now and I feel like my heart’s gonna drop out of my ass.’ You rambled barely taking time to breathe. ‘I love you but I need to speak to him right now.’

‘I’ll get him.’ He turned around and walked away with only his voice to be heard, ‘Yo, where’s Slim? His girl’s ‘ere!’

‘Thank you.’ You returned the smile, balling your hands in your coat, your legs colliding together as you took steps to keep you moving and your body warm.

‘Hey, what’s up?’ Marshall arrived at the door with his apron around his neck, puzzled as to why you suddenly showed up at his workplace. ‘Boss said I got 15.’

‘Can we go somewhere more private,’ you glanced around the alley, ‘and somewhere warm.’

‘Yeah of course,’ He pulled you into the building, walking you past the kitchen and staff to a break room that was empty. ‘What’s wrong witchu? You don’t look well. You’re pale and look like your about to throw up.’

You stayed quiet, unable to say anything. Your heart was racing, your mind racing with thoughts so fast you were unable to comprehend most of them. The only thing you could do was cry. You stared at Marshall whose worry protruded from his eyes, eyebrows knitted at his hands were placed on both your shoulders. Tears started to well. You tried biting your lip but it was no use. Tears started to fall.

‘Hey, hey what’s wrong?’ Marshall pulled you into his embrace, holding you so tight you could feel the pressure relieve some tension. ‘Watchu crying about?’

‘I. Don’t know.’ You sniffed, wiping away your tears that never stop. ‘I’m scared,’

‘Scared of what, baby?’

‘Em,’ you glanced at him, taking a second to compose yourself, ‘I’m pregnant.’

‘What?’

‘I’m pregnant. I took the test.’ You gave him the test so he could see for himself.

‘What?’

‘It happens when two people constantly have sex.’

‘I’m not fucking stupid, Y/n,’

‘Sorry,’ you sniffed again, your nose blocked, ‘I’m just on edge. I can’t think straight.’ You tried claiming yourself with a deep breath but ended up shaky as your nerves jumped all over the place.

‘Hey, hey,’ Marshall cupped your face, forcing you to look at him. Puffy lids, wide pupils and doe eyes, ready to surrender to the stress that had been planted on you. ‘We’re gonna figure this shit out okay? If you wanna keep it, we keep it. If not then not.’ He nodded. ‘And if we end up eating pasta with ketchup for years to keep us goin’ and give our baby the things we didn’t have. We will be able to do this shit, okay?’

‘Okay,’ you forced a smile, not fully ready to accept reality. ‘Okay.’

‘You know whatchu gonna do?’

‘No not yet. I—I need time to think.’

‘Y/n, listen to me okay,’ his thumbs rubbed against the apples of your cheeks. ‘You’re gonna go straight home. No staying in the cold. Sit down, make yourself a cup of tea and try to relax okay? I’ma come back as soon as I’m done and then we’re gonna talk this through properly.’

‘Okay,’ quiet sniff. ‘I’ll do that.’

‘Good.’ His face came closer, ‘Stay safe baby.’ He pressed his lips against yours. ‘I’ll see you later.’

Wiping your nose you pressed a quick kiss on his cheek and headed out of the back entrance, passing Proof as his gaze lingered on you. What are you going to do?

[httpdwaekki]

airport | s.c.

summary: the airport could be overstimulating, but binnie (and chan's headphones) are there to help you through it.

wc: 937

a/n: last n final week of binnie month w/ @straykeedz :/ as sad as i am that it's over, thank u for doin this w me <3 based of this video of binnie n seung i saw :3 very special thank u to my bubba @giddyfatherchris for helping my write this, ily<3. anyway, i hope you enjoy! remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3

my library | bee's vers. | bee | binnie month | fundraiser

(pictures not mine! credit to owners!)

you weren’t a fan of public places, especially the airport.

too many people, too much noise, and everyone in a rush with no care for personal space. now on top of that you have to deal with the floods of cameras and crazed fans yelling for your boyfriend.

you’ve been together for a few now so you’ve learned things to help you throughout the years. however they don’t help as much when you forget your headphones and everything else that could go wrong does.

you felt like you were suffocating in your clothes, heat gripping every inch of your skin as people push and crowd you. you could feel the lump in the back of your throat as you clench your fist as you finally make it into the building.

changbin was holding your other hand, rubbing soothing circles on the back of it, reminding you he was there. you felt slightly better being in the air conditioned building but that didn’t help the sound, in fact in only felt amplified.

as you approach the security checkpoint he takes notice of the distress in your body language. it was at this point he also notices the lack of headphones over your ears. once you reach the line he leans over to you.

“where’s your headphones baby?” changbin whispers in your ear. “i forgot them.” you respond, keeping your tears at bay. “i have mine in my bag, do you think you can wait until we get inside for me to get them for you?” you nod, focusing on your entwined hands.

he squeezes your hand before letting go, he gently wraps his hands around your neck, pulling you into him. you lay your head on his shoulder, letting out a sigh of relief as he placing a kiss to your hair.

“we’re almost there bunny, just a little while longer, okay?” you nod, taking a deep breath before pulling away, moving up in the line. you place your head back on his shoulder, focusing on your breathing.

while distracted, chan makes eye contact w bin, silently asking what’s wrong? he points to your head, and chan understands immediately. he quickly and carefully takes the headphones around his neck off handing them to bin.

he smiles before taking them. he squeezes your hand, trying to get your attention. you pull back, quickly wiping your eyes as a few tears slipped out.

“channie hyung gave me his headphones for you, i’m gonna put them on, okay?” you quickly look at the object in his hand before turning around to look at the older man but to find him moving up with the rest of the boys.

you nod before he slips them on your head, instantly filled with relief as the environment around you becomes muffled. “good?” you read his lips, giving him a small smile and nodding. he grabs your hand once more, moving you up in the line to catch up with the rest of the boys.

once you make it through security, everyone makes their way to one of the restaurants except you and changbin. changbin gives them your orders, before you head to your gate. you were thankful as you walked up to the gate that it’s in an isolated and quiet part of the airport.

you set your bags down, taking a seat before taking chan’s headphones off, setting them carefully on your lap. “how are you feeling?” he asks, carefully taking stuff out of his bag. “better now, thanks to you and chan.” you smile, watching as he pulls out a handheld fan and his headphones.

“ here you go baby.” your eyes well up once again as you grab the objects. feeling overwhelmed at just how sweet your boyfriend was. “i’m sorry i didn’t realize you did have your headphones earlier, i would’ve gotten them out in the car.” he smiles sadly.

you shake your head, “no, it was my fault for forgetting mine but thank you for taking care of me,” you place the objects in your lap as well, grabbing his hand, placing a kiss to the back of it, “ you calmed me down before channie gave me his headphones, so thank you baby.” he smiles, squeezes your hand.

“you never have to thank me for that, it’s my job as your partner.” it was his turn to kiss your hand before placing everything back in his bag. you place his headphones around your neck before turning on the fan, relaxing back into the seat.

bin leans over to you, pulling out his phone and giving it to you to pick out a movie. as your scrolling through your choices the boys walk over carrying 9 bags of food. chan walks over handing changbin 2 bags before setting his bags across from the both of you.

“how are you feeling?” chan asks before sitting down.” better.” you smile before grabbing his headphones, handing them back to him. “and thank you for these, i really appreciate it, they really helped.” he grabs the item, placing them on his backpack.

“it’s no problem, glad i could help.” he smiles before opening his bag of food. bin hands your bag of food, “i had them get your favorite and there’s a water in there too.” you smile at him once again, your heart swelling at the love you have for the man next to you.

“ thank you binnie,” you place a kiss to his cheek as he gives you a cute smile. luckily the rest of the day went smoothly, but even if it didn’t you had binnie to help you through it out.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Getting hot under the collar and in the kitchen and on the pool table and...

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Aug 2024 Week 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) eps 3-4 of 12 - one of the things I'm enjoying about this show is the fact that the introverted super shy uke is having hot fantasies, and the extroverted seme is having the sweet fantasies. It's another way this show is highlighting God being the world's greenest flagged seme BL has ever produced. (And he's being given stiff competition this year - trend alert.)

Anygay: God is so cute and so not cool and so in love and all the consent asking word salad coming out of this boy. I LOVE him. 

Diew: It’s ep 4 so I’ve decided we can talk face-to-face.  God: So how many children do you want? 

The teaching him to play basketball bit, where God politely asks to hold his hand, is so freaking adorable I can’t.

I'm thinking of calling this show the anti-Mame pill.

Blue pill? Red pill? GREEN pill!

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 11 of 12 - We gotta talk. I do like this version, but it’s starting to feel lackluster. Perhaps it always was by comparison to the bright sparkle uniqueness of the original. Perhaps I didn't notice because I was distracted by G4. But now I gotta say it's become a bit disappointing and even my love for G4 can’t seem to bind me to this. Frankly, this show is making me want to watch either the Japanese version, or My School President. It’s never a good sign when a currently airing BL makes me want to stop that and go rewatch an old one I’ve already seen.

NO SINGING.

Meanwhile, the "locked on the rooftop" trope! I haven’t seen that one in years. Cool. Also cute kisses. They learning. 

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Fri iQIYI) ep 7 of 8 - I can’t believe this is ending next week. But also I can. And I have thoughts.

I really love SailubPon. They might be one of my favorite newer pairs on the scene right now. But I just don’t believe in these characters or this couple. I don’t feel like they are going to have a lasting relationship. It feels like they’re just using each other for sex and distraction, and that’s how the script to set it up, and as a result they’re never gonna make it as a couple. As soon as the sexual fire between them burns out, what do they have to build a relationship on? Frankly? That would be fine if this were a modern love drama, and not a BL. But this IS a BL.

Putting the health code violators aside, I really do believe in the secondary pair, but they haven’t been given enough bandwidth to develop as a couple. There’s no way they’re going to adequately resolve Methas and JJ in the final episode.

At this juncture, I’m mostly finding this show annoying. Which in itself is annoying, because I wanted to love it.

Why is it that Thailand, the land of the best food in the world, king of BLs, struggles so hard to produce the restaurant set BL of my dreams? I’m really pissed about this.

That said, the Methas & JJ stuff is killer. Loved JJ running away. So good. Plus the age old decision - love or money? 

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 2-3 of 12 - The issue was me and I've managed to get hold of this show again. The story within the story is so ridiculously badly written I'm going spare. I’m not sure if the outside show is not ALSO badly written. That said, I do love how the 3 writer friends are all shipping our leads. It’s VERY silly. Meanwhile, cohabitation trope is a go. 

I like the side couple too. Stern Daddy + lost puppy is a very cute dynamic, I hope we get more than just crumbs. I actually am enjoying this show now. Ep 3 kinda derailed into this weird chimera novel that they’re all writing together and I’m finding that bit the least interesting, but I adore the domestic components which I think may turn out to be TutorYim's strength (if they're allowed to lean into it). 

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - Man I hope this gets some kind of distribution at some point. It was a pain to find and watch. But I enjoyed it. The focus is more on the seme in Thailand’s version. Which I don’t mind since that's rare in BL, and it’s more August on my screen. It’s all round softer than China’s version but still feels very familiar. I know some fans are struggling with it, but not me.

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 10 of 12 - I like that Sam’s crafty business espionage has paid off. Them teasing Sam & Yo really had me belly laughing. It was so funny.

Legitimate question. Would one put perfume on one’s cheeks in Thailand, as one does on wrist or sternum? Because of the sniff cheek thing? Scented face powders?

I do feel like with MosBank & SailubPon scorching up our screens, we’re being spoiled by some of Thailand‘s best high heat pairs at the moment.

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 5 of 12 - It remains kind of sweet and cute. It's also calm and slow moving. Oddly it reminds me of La Cuisine in its style and execution (if not content). I’m enjoying it more than I thought I would.

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 7 of 12 - I don’t know. I’m getting bored.

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 10fin - Fort’s acting during the break-up was truly great. But I feel for Rak. It’s rough to learn that someone else is playing a long game with feelings while you were playing a short game with d**k.

Ultimately this is probably a solid 8/10 show but I’m mad I wasn’t madder at it, and I'm mad I was so bored throughout. So it gets a 7/10 and let us not speak of this again. I’d like to simply forget about it. Trash watch.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 1-2 of 10 - OMG a uni student who looks young and a... COP! GAH. The subversion and kink of it all. I had to go grey to get it and I hate everything about what I had to do. But ya know what? Fucking worth every single repeated crash-causing advertisement.

I love it. The grumpy lonely little student cook and the cheerful mature police officer. What a fabulous dynamic. Is the cook looking for a boyfriend or a Daddy, and do we care if it has the same result? It is filmed VERY manga style camp. I’m a little nervous about that, but this means it’s also very fluffy and so damn sweet. It made me squeak with the cute. I’m gutted this didn’t get distribution.

Ironic that Tawada Hideya is in a new BL while Sunspot is re-airing.

Cosmetic Playlover (Japan Tues Gaga) eps 3-4 of 8 - Ah, the gays are doubting the bisexual again. How familiar. I like how this one is paced and moving through time, even if the relationship seems to be going comparatively slowly by contrast. I love the way Sahashi is always looking at Natsume, even when they’re in conversation with someone else. Ah yearning. I think the conflict was kind of inevitable, given the two personalities of the protagonists, and I like that. (No manufactured angst here.) But I still hope they can repair the breach and I’m still interested. Frankly this is so classically Japan - I don’t know what story beats it’s following and I’m not entirely sure where it’s going, but I kinda like that unpredictability. Makes me think it could go into "must you, Japan?" territory but fingers crossed.

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 9 of 10 - I'm enjoying it very much. I could do without the girl character. I know she’s more interesting than most (this is Japan after all), but she’s not really for me. It’s the complexity of the connection between the leads (and why they like each other) that’s being executed so brilliantly in this show (and in the manga, FYI). Both actors are so on point with their roles and the nuanced emotions required of these characters that every time it’s only them interacting I'm riveted. I could do without the rest of the cast tho.

Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 1 of 8 - I have a confession to make, I’ve been watching this whole series as it goes along. But this is the pair I absolutely like the most. I’m not sure I would necessarily recommend any of the installments, and I’m not sure how this one is going to go, but I’m VERY invested in this particular couple. They are so pretty!!!! This is a true friends-to-lovers struggle. I like that a lot. (Reminds me of I Cannot Reach You but a different dynamic.) Did I mention how pretty they are? And we already know they gonna kiss well. I bet the uncut version is stellar.

Meet You at the Blossom (China) - It's no one's funeral, turns out! Reports are in - not only are there kisses but it ends happily with wedding plans. So I'm eating crow, binging the fucker, and live blogging. I'm enjoying it. Ya'll know I adored Chinese BL before censorship. It has a certain unhinged quality I very much apreciate (and is the reason I'm so tolerant of the Thai pulps) that I think will marry well with Wuxia's effervescent and ever-present tropes. Watch me suffer here.

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) eps 1-2 of 12 - About a singer with stage fright and his timid fan starring Charles (H4 the puppy one) and Michael Chang (the youngster in My Tooth Your Love), plus side couple featuring a Thai actor Jame (Koh in Gen Y) and Liu Min Ting (of Guardian fame). What a damn team. With their powers combined they are...

fine.

This is a fine BL. The fight scene was fun and I like the meet cute. I’m not sure about the chemistry of the leads, but I think they’ll probably do okay. I admit I’m struggling a bit with a singing and the music. Are you surprised? I think I like it enough, but I’m not wowed.

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - Oh! Out of the blue attack kiss. What IS this show? I don’t get it at all. Bah. I guess they’re dating now. It’s… so odd...

It's airing but...

4 Minutes (Thai Netflix/Grey) - A rich boy at uni suddenly gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future. I have a source, but I've decided to hold off and binge if it ends okay, since it's only 8 eps. I depend upon y'all to tell me if it's safe.

8/16 The Last Time (Thai Fri YT) ? eps - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something. Again delayed? Not sure what's going on with this one but the continued push-backs do not bode well.

In case you missed it

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer IS COMING IN SEPTEMBER!!!! (Yeah this is gonna sit here until then).

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Still Coming This Month!

8/22 The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) 12 eps - announced in 2023 this one has a high school set stepbrothers trope and is reputed to be high heat. From Taiwan! It's made for me. Based on a novel Mou Mou from the Your Name Engraved Herein folks, so it could go dark. Still, I'm very excited.

8/22 The Paradise of Thorns (Thai movie) theater release - Jeff Satur is back but this does not look like a BL (the gay lover's death is the inciting event). More in Goodbye Mother vein. Looks dark and dramatic. He opposite and extremely well known actor Toey Pongsakorn who has never done gay before.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

WHY IS HE SO FINE?

I truly belly laughed. Sam & Yo did not go in the direction I expected, but this scene alone made me not mind that they curtailed the suffering Sam was rightfully due. (SunsetXVibes)

Tall boyfriend armpit, anyone? (Monster Next Door)

The two extremes of BL in one show (Long Beans indeed).

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

[cheralith]

to a heart's content — 「 single father!miguel o'hara x reader (part ii) 」

content warnings ; fem!reader, implied fem bodied!reader, use of she/her pronouns, reader wears dresses and makeup, mild violence mention

contains ; single father!miguel o'hara, boss!miguel o'hara, assistant!reader, angst, angst with some comfort, some fluff if you squint

word count ; 4.3k

notes ; at long last, here's the much waited part two! truly didn't expect the first part to blow up like it did, but i'm ever so grateful for all the support and the patience for those still here!

parts ; one two three (tba)

“Lyla, show me the nearest florist from here.”

“The nearest flower shop? That’s gonna be Business is Blooming on 27th Street—”

“27th Street?!” Miguel exclaims, his shock at the distance startling him and making his hands accidentally tighten the belt he was fixing much too tightly. He lets out a strangled choking sound and quickly loosens it before his legs lose oxygen, a feat that he’d hate to do just minutes prior to an event that could possibly change his life for the better. “That’s at least fifteen minutes away and on the opposite side of Clark! I’m already late, aren’t there any other ones closer?”

Lyla’s smaller holographic form pieces together on top of his full-body mirror that displays him in a formal-casual attire consisting of a cream turtleneck, black dress pants buckled with a coffee brown belt and topped altogether with a sepia overcoat that hadn’t seen the light of day since he bought it all those years ago. She puckers her grinning lips, a little amused at the rarity of Miguel in such an outfit and thinking he looks like a cup of coffee.

“Well, there’s always that crowded grocery store on Main?” she suggests as she examines her fingernails, instantly changing the pattern of them with a snap of her fingers. “But that’s gonna cost ya another twenty minutes and you’re already what—? Ten minutes late?”

Miguel fights off a groan at her teasing. “Lyla, I’m serious. Are there genuinely not any other ones around here? Any local ones? C’mon, this is Nueva York, there has to be at least one.”

“You could always try the marketplace. But then again, it’s Sunday so might not really be wise to take your chances,” Lyla shrugs.

Miguel even wonders if men these days still even have the dignity to give their partners flowers after realizing there is a significant lack of florists in today’s day and age. He wouldn’t be like them; flowers are a timeless gift everyone enjoys and he thinks if he can’t get it for you, he might as well not call himself a man at all. 

His eyes go to spot the window in the reflection of the mirror where the sun is beginning to finally set and the city’s nightlife is rising from the dead. Buildings of all heights buster from every corner and the open road that eradicates much of the land dissolves a weary pit in his stomach, obviously annoyed at the many obstacles that block his path. Miguel takes another glance at the clock, the minute hand inching closer and closer and closer to 6:00. The initial plans were to leave the apartment by 5:30, acquire some gifts for you and then travel to the restaurant by 6:00, but seeing as how he’s still trapped in his abode, Miguel thinks that he can only do so much.

But he realizes that’s for Miguel O’Hara, renowned Alchemax geneticist and full-time father. Miguel O’Hara, an everyday citizen, couldn’t possibly crunch so much in such little time.

For Spider-Man, however…

Lyla eyes him suspiciously and purses her lips when Miguel looks at his wrists and then at the window again. “I don’t think that’s wise, Miguel.”

“What’s wise?” he replies coyly, going to quickly shovel off his clothes to replace them with a familiar blue and red attire.

“I know whatcha gonna do,” Lyla says and glitches around him as he searches for his suit. “But it’s not gonna end well, I’m tellin’ ya right now, mister!”

Miguel shakes her caution off, too occupied with shuffling on his superhero suit onto his body before neatly tucking his other outfit into his hammerspaced pocket. “It’ll be quick, I swear. I just need to get her some flowers and then I’ll be on my way. Lock up the house for me, yeah?”

“You’re not gonna make it,” Lyla shakes her head. “Just ditch the flowers and get her something on the way instead.”

But the last of Lyla’s words don’t make it to Miguel’s ears, as he’s already slinging and gliding himself out of the window and toward the given address of the florist. Lyla can only watch in artificial disdain as Miguel’s figure grows smaller and smaller through the passing seconds. She sighs, rolling her eyes as she flickers off the apartment lights before disintegrating.

The roar of the city life grows louder and louder the more Miguel comes closer to the center of it where the flower shop lays. People gather in clusters bustling about all over, making him a little weary of himself as he stares at them from above a high tower. He’s not exactly an ordinary passerby that can easily maneuver their way through so easily—especially not with this getup. Spider-Man is also a name that rather became widespread across the city of Nueva York, meaning that even if one person were to see the flash of blue and red, he’s up for trouble. 

The evildoers tonight seem to be at cease, thankfully. He hasn’t heard of any malicious plotting or future events that will take place today by any of the supervillains that hunt him down like deer recently. Then again, there’s always smaller crimes still waiting to be stopped, but he’s sure the cops will come around for those. Miguel convinces himself it’ll just be a one time thing.

Yet when the familiar song of police sirens blare through the city, he twitches at the thought of leaving such miscreants in the hands of police when he’s sure he can take them down like an army of ten men.

But the police have ten men on them, so truly he can just leave it alone, right? He’s essentially in front of the flower shop that’s seated below an apartment building. All he has to do is just jump down, get the flowers, and leave in the nick of time. He doesn’t have time to dilly dally with low-rated criminals. 

Then again, when he spots the gang of robbers in two white vans speeding down the road at a blistering speed without any caution for pedestrians, Miguel grits his teeth. On their tail is a rally of five police cars that keep gaining and losing them by the second and Miguel isn’t sure whether the irritation was from his indecisiveness or the fact that if he didn’t do anything, there will be consequences.

Perhaps do both to ease his mind? No, he can’t do that. You’re most likely on your way to the restaurant, all dolled up and fresh-faced. He still would need the time to fix himself up in some dingy public bathroom. A cop car that’s been hiding in the corner joins the chase—that’s surely more than enough to take care of them?

Miguel’s eyes go back and forth... back and forth between the two sights. Anxiety is doing little to help his situation and a mist of sweat begins to form on his skin the more the seconds tick by, making the innermost part of his suit much more uncomfortable and moist. A clock hangs by an awning nearby that displays the haunting time of 6:03 PM, just twenty-seven minutes shy of the designated 6:30 meeting time.

He glances one more time at the chase, swallowing a thick lump in his throat when he sees the vans hurdle full speed toward an open street of walking pedestrians, all ignorant of the fact to what beholds them in just mere seconds.

Miguel curses under his breath.

It’ll only be this for today, no more after that.

Fatigued eyes go to watch as the last people leave the restaurant, leaving you isolated in your little corner both embarrassed and hungry due to the heavy lack of food served on your platter for tonight. The other waiters begin to scrub the tables and booths free of crumbs and topple the chairs onto them, indicating that tonight has drawn to its close. You think you’ve memorized the entirety of the menu at this point, considering it’s really all you’ve been averting your eyes towards to avoid the looks of others.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see the waiters and waitresses pitifully gossiping about you and a heat flashes onto your face by how incredibly desolate you’ve looked in the past three hours. Internally, you thank them for their patience and how they’ve tolerated your excuses for your date’s tardiness-turned-absence, knowing that it must be a pain to look after someone that hadn’t even ordered anything besides water for the time she had been here.

You don’t even wait for your waitress to come to your table for the nth time tonight, going by your own initiative to pack up your things. Your phone is still devoid of any notifications from Miguel, as well, even after the four calls, occasional text checkups, and last minute voicemailed question of a needed rescheduling if he so desired. 

What remains is just a grayed out Read, 7:47 PM underneath all the text bubbles.

“I… sincerely apologize if I loitered at all,” you murmur with your head half-down to the young host who shuffles the menus back into the lectern. “This was truly the last thing that I had expected from him…”

You instantly take back that statement the moment it leaves your lips. If anything, you should’ve known that this would’ve happened. Foolish you were—you’ve been with Miguel for the past three years, this was everyday behavior for him. You suppose this is how Gabriella must feel constantly and another heartache pits itself within you at the shared feeling.

The host shakes his head sympathetically. “You wouldn’t be our first case, I’m sure you didn’t have any ill intent. If anything, I’m the one sorry that he made you wait that long,” he replies with evident pity. “Whoever he is, he must be a dick for leaving such a pretty thing like you alone all night, ma’am.”

“Oh, he’s—” you fall short on your words, not even having the energy to sorely defend Miguel’s name. “Never mind…” you mutter.

“Do you need a cab?” asks the host, “Well actually, I’m about to clock out for tonight. I can drive you home, if you want. It’s the least I can do for you after tonight.”

You’re about to reply to him to turn down the offer, as you suspect he’s the type of guy to use women in these situations to his advantage, but the doors suddenly burst open to reveal the one and only in a hazy state and what seems to… flowers clutched in his hands? The petals, however, are corrugated and some have even completely drooped down from their stem. The paper that is supposed to guard them is wrinkled and torn at the corners. Almost all of the bouquet is wilted, much like your own composure for tonight. 

Miguel isn’t much better. Hair and clothes a little damp, he’s frazzled and evidently guilty, as his face pales when he sees your contrasting appearance. You’re adorned in an a-lined, half-sleeved royal blue dress that made you look so regal in comparison to your daily white blouse-black pants outfit that he's seen too much of. Not to mention additional details of your styled hair and accessories just brought out the best of your beauty that was wasted on essentially nothing this evening. 

“Mr. O’Hara…” you breathe when he passes through the door. The first thing that you notice automatically when his face properly comes into view is a sharply jagged, yet thin cut on the side of his cheek. “Did someth—”

“(Y/N), I’m so… so sorry,” he chokes out. “Something c-came up at work and they asked me to help them out… I’m sorry, I know I should’ve said no, but they were kind of on my ass about it and I got so caught up with it, so I wasn’t able to text you and—”

“She waited three hours,” the host drones and juts his thumb toward the dining area where all the chairs are laid atop the tables. Its lights flicker out, leaving only the foyer and smaller hallways lit so dismally in the night. “Until closing. She didn’t order anything in the meantime, so not only you left her alone tonight, you left her alone and hungry.”

“Hey listen, bud,” Miguel snaps at the host. He points a finger at him with irate in his eyes. “Not your business, so stay out of it.”

The host scoffs with a smirk on his face. “Not the first time I’ve heard that and certainly not the first time I’ve seen this happen. Guys like you always—”

You raise a hand to stop their bickering, afraid of what might happen if things escalate further as you really didn’t desire to do anything more than just sleep off your feelings. Both men stop and turn to look at you with concern on their faces.

“Do you still need that ride home?”

“Are you still hungry?”

A frustrated head shake finally silences the both of them. 

“I’m fine, thank you for the offer, though,” you say quietly to the host. You turn to Miguel, who swallows at the sight of your tired eyes. “May we talk outside? I’d hate to stay here any longer than I need to.”

Miguel attempts to excuse himself one more time, but when you begin to pace yourself toward the door without waiting for him, he realizes he can’t exactly make any more decisions of his own any more this evening. Not after choosing his heroic duties again and again for tonight instead of tending to you.

The moon and stars tonight have made their presence with the special guest of light rain coming in for a visit. The whisper of a drizzle ghosts itself on your goosebumps skin and the chill of a wind nips at your flesh. 

Miguel is quick to follow you. “I’m really sorry again, (Y/N),” he utters so softly that it makes your heart ache with familiarity. It’s the same tone of voice he’s used with Gabriella when at times, he wasn’t able to make it to her events or practices like he promised. “Are you still hungry by any chance? I know a good 24/7 diner that’s pretty close here.”

Without turning around, you politely shake your head and begin to search for any cabs coming your way. “I’ll be okay. I think I have some leftovers in the fridge that can suffice.”

The thought of you eating alone like he did on a night that you shouldn’t be sends shivers of guilt down Miguel’s spine. He curses himself at his past actions—deciding that it was stupid to catch those robbers who didn’t even put up much of a fight, to stop that gang brawl that was happening on the corner of 5th that was resolved the moment the elderly shopkeeper began to yell, to help that old lady that was certainly taking her sweet time to cross the street. They were such unbelievably mild crimes that he didn’t need to attend to, but did anyway even with the thought of you in mind.

Perhaps he should’ve had more faith in technology, because he’s sure Lyla was going to have much fun taunting him for the rest of the week. 

“You can keep the flowers, too,” you say softly when a cab begins to pull up. “I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t think I have a vase to store them in unfortunately.”

Miguel’s grip on the dismal bouquet tightens, not even trying to fight your refusal as you get into a cab. He stops the door from closing just as you’re about to, trying one last time to make up for his actions. 

“At least let me pay for your cab,” Miguel whispers.

You know he’s sorry. You can see in his eyes the familiar gleam of woe that he’s given to his daughter. Your eyes go to flicker at the cut again, but you know that if you ask, he’s sure to give one his many excuses because it isn’t the first time he’s shown up with an injury before. And you don’t want to put yourself through that wall of verbal familiarity. 

With sorrow gentleness, you pry his fingers off the edge of the car and shut it, putting a physical barrier between you and Miguel. The eyes of the driver goes to pitifully glance at your state before beginning to rev up the engine.

You don’t even have the courage to share a glance towards Miguel one last time before the cab begins to drive off—your wallow of disappointment is deep enough as it is.

The rest of the week is agonizingly slow; Miguel dares to say it’s torturous, even.

He’s thankful you’re still acknowledging his existence and talking with him, but your conversations lack the usual warmth and gentle playfulness they often had. It was already lonely enough dealing with the lack of a third person like him at home, but the feeling of isolation felt even more scarring this time because when he came home late after your babysitting session, you didn’t bother with small talk with him, the only thing that made him realize he didn't have to do everything by himself alone.

You didn’t ask how the late shift was, how were the bosses treating him, if he was getting enough rest… no, you only kept him updated on his daughter's schoolwork and any future events regarding her and her only. Your words never included him or you, only finishing off with a goodbye and have a nice night.

At least you were still kind enough to fix him the usual leftovers.

Work itself wasn’t much better. Conversations were brief and the lab in which you two worked privately was filled with silence that was only broken with the occasional demands and directions of lab work. Sometimes a forced cough would sneak its way through Miguel’s lips if the silence began to disturb him too much. He attempted to make some at the beginning, asking how your day was and whether your father was on your tail again, but he was met with short, sharp responses. 

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Perhaps.”

“I’m not sure.”

Never have such words been so agonizing before. Ironic that they are because Miguel often hated it when people rambled and preferred it when conversations got to the point. He supposes, though, you get to the point too fast for his liking nowadays.

When he tried bringing up an explanation for Sunday’s events, you’d quickly shut it down as tenderly as possible, saying things along the lines of “It’s alright, your schedule is hectic. I can understand.” or “I just hope your work didn’t give you too much trouble.” You’re so polite about it that it hurts him. Miguel would much rather have you lash out and insult him than have you soften the landing that does barely anything to ease him because it feels like you’ve put on that mask you put in front of others—professional and orderly—and Miguel didn’t want to be seen as just a mere coworker, let alone your boss, to you.

His pride bites at his ankles. Lies coming out of his lips too regularly, he had to fib to Gabriella the morning after her sleepover when she asked about the date that you had fallen sick and weren’t able to make it. The disappointment on her face mimicked yours too eerily. She asked him if they were going to reschedule it. Miguel could only shrug his shoulders—he wasn’t even sure if you wanted anything to do with him after that event. 

At least nothing changed with you and his daughter. He’d still home to an apartment with you helping with homework or her helping with dinner or tucking her into bed. That’s all he could ask for right now.

Miguel still had the chance to redeem himself this week. There was the annual banquet held at a banquet hall to celebrate the yearly achievements Alchemax and those associated had accomplished, as well as discussing major plans for the future. It was a boring, yet formal event used for connections and idle chatter, something Miguel usually didn’t look forward to. Lyla suggested to him to convince you to go and that Gabriella would just have a one-time babysitter while you got to enjoy (or in your case, put up) with his company as he redeemed himself best as possible. You’re not one to talk with others you’ve never met, so he knew that you would most likely stick by his side for a sense of familiarity. 

It took a while, but you murmured you’d go under your breath to shake him off your tail. Miguel was elated, but it was quickly shut down halfheartedly by the reminder that you were still somewhat upset by Sunday’s incident, saying you’d take a cab to the banquet instead of driving with him like he offered.

No matter, as long as you were there by his side.

Miguel made sure that this time, he’d be out the door much earlier than the last, promising to never keep you waiting longer than a minute. A text on his phone pings that you’re near the back entrance, where the parking lot was so it’d be easier to find you. He swerves a little too harshly into the lot—either from nervousness or excitement or both—at the mention and had spotted you near the staircase adorned in a floor-length blushed, ivory pink halter gown with luminescent tulle, making you look like the human embodiment of an ocean pearl.

His eyes are so fixed on you that he didn’t realize he almost knocked himself straight into an oncoming BMW. The owner, a crabby old man he recognizes from human resources, swears and honks at him, making Miguel hide his face before hurriedly parking a little more safely. 

When he approaches you, he drinks you in your full glory. Everything about you is so fresh… so exhilarating. You’ve done your hair with a couple of clips this time, with more subtle jewelry this time. Your makeup looks tidy and perfect and Miguel enjoys the way it emphasizes your best features instead of morphing them. If only he was wiser on Sunday, he would’ve been able to savor a different version of you in blue. 

Nevertheless, you still manage to take his breath away with just a simple breath like you always have. It’s just that it was only recently had Miguel realized you had that ability and he’d be alright experiencing it again and again if it was with you.

“Mr. O’Hara?” you say and wave a soft wave in front of his face to break his trance. Somehow, you begin to grow self-conscious. Perhaps he didn’t like it? Maybe it was too revealing… the slit at the halter neckline did somewhat peek at your cleavage and you weren’t used to baring your shoulders out. “I-is everything okay?”

Miguel blinks a couple of times. His surroundings finally come into focus like your figure, making him realize how long he had been staring. “Apologies. I… never got to tell you this on Sunday, but I hope to do it now, (Y/N)... ” he clears his throat and straightens his posture, remembering to act everything out as practiced, before softly whispering with evident fondness that, “You look beautiful, tonight.”

A spark of surprise shocks your features for a brief moment, before your usual modesty is displayed again. Eye contact is broken, for you can’t fathom the thought of someone like Miguel O’Hara, favored in every possible way, would be complimenting you so casually. “Oh um. Thank you,” you choke out halfheartedly. 

Miguel leans over slightly over your figure and tucks a lock of stray hair behind your ear. If he wanted to truly make up for what happened, he was going to have to go all out tonight, even if that meant rocketing out of his comfort zone. He just barely catches you hitching a breath at the semi-intimate of physical contact as he tries his best to hide his own when he murmurs in your ear again. 

“I’m not saying it out of manners, I’m saying it factually,” he mumbles, eyeing the passersby that stare in wonder at you. Some ego swells inside of him at the jealous looks that are given to him. “You’ve bewitched me and many others already.”

You stray your gaze away at him with your hands fiddling at the skirt of your dress. “You didn’t have to, but thank you for the dress, by the way,” you murmur timidly. “I’ve never heard of a brand called Lyla, but I admit, this dress of theirs is rather nice.”

Miguel furrows his brows at the mention before Lyla briefly appears on your head, giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up before disappearing. It doesn’t take Miguel long to realize that Lyla had shipped something so pristine to you without his permission, though he supposes that she had done him and you a favor given how majestic you look tonight. 

He lets out a soft breath of a chuckle before shaking his head. Maybe he’ll give her some upgrades in return.

You turn your head behind you, not knowing what he was looking at. “Is something wrong? Is there something in my hair?”

“No, no. Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts…” Miguel interjects before offering his arm to you. “We should get going. I’d hate for a dress like this to go to waste for only my eyes.”

Internally, Miguel wanted to be selfish. He wanted to be greedy and have you all for himself, savor your every move tonight, have you and him be the only ones in this place. He didn’t want anyone to look towards your direction and have you look at anyone else besides him. A little venomous thought of people not realizing you had so much more potential than they realized embeds in himself, and that their awe for tonight was too artificial. He wanted more and to give you more, but then again, he’s still Spider-Man at the end of the day, the impossible man that somehow does it all and faces the consequences head on. He can only offer a regular day citizen like you so much.

But for now, he’ll make do with what he can. Not as Spider-Man this time, but as Miguel O’Hara.

a/n ; hi yeah don't panic, there'll be a part three lmfao i lied lolol. most likely it'll be the last part to this little series i've got going, too, since i think making it a fully fledged series would kind of lead some things astray for me. that doesn't mean the end of the miggy o'hare writings, however! still will most definitely attempt to write for him bc bro's GLORIOUS

thank you all for the patience for part ii, and i hope to see that part iii comes out asap! i'll give updates for it as always, but in the meantime, thank you for reading and likes/comments/reblogs are always noticed and infinitely appreciated ( ˘ ³˘) ♡ !

taglist ; @secretlyrexlapis @urbimom @p1nkliquor @julesclues @averagefloydlover @apurpletrashcan @toofsfairys @raeisthebae (for those with strikethroughs, i'm not able to tag you for some reason :(!)

[junplusone]

pieces of heaven ; kwon soonyoung

summary: soonyoung may be chaos personified himself, but he finds a little piece of comfort in the haven that turns out to be the cozy bookstore you work at.

pairing: kwon soonyoung x gn!reader

contains: comedy (i tried), tiger agenda, swearing, dk's allergies, booseoksoon as roomies shenanigans, reader and seungkwan are masters students, seungkwan being a key player, wonu cameo, CAT !!!

word count: 4.87k

a/n: here's a wholesome little piece before i go back to college ; also let it be known i know nothing about bookstores or being a masters student so let me know if i got anything wrong!

tags: @mochacoda @imujings (lmk if u want to be added to permanent taglist!)

Kwon Soonyoung, for all of his chaos and his tendency to skew the average decibel reading higher wherever he is, can be shockingly bashful at times.

Which is why when he follows Seungkwan into a rickety old building, and his eyes fall on you, all he does is silently appreciate how cute you look, with the glasses perched on your nose and the stack of books you’re holding as you converse with his friend. Seungkwan is only here to drop off some notes — he has a class with you, he mentioned — but he gets roped into an in depth conversation about some dude named Daws-toe-yef-ski.

Whatever, Soonyoung thinks. He’s not much of a reader, and hasn’t been for years.

Once you’ve safely put the notebook away, you glance over at him curiously. 

“Anything for your friend?” you ask politely.

Friend? Oh, that’s me, Soonyoung realizes, but Seungkwan butts in before he can utter a single word.

“No way! I don’t even think he’s picked up a book since high school,” he jokes, eliciting a pretty laugh out of you. “You would never catch him dead in here unless I dragged him. I think he’s allergic to words.”

“Oh, dear,” you say, very amused.

Seungkwan should be awarded a trophy for being the Worst Wingman Ever (On Accident), Soonyoung thinks, now that you’ve possibly branded him as an illiterate idiot in your mind. 

“Your friend probably thinks I’m stupid,” he whines as he follows Seungkwan out onto the street. “Why’d you have to do me like that?”

“Did I lie?”

“...No. But still!”

“Don’t sweat it, dude. Why are you so stressed? You’re probably never gonna see them again.” 

But Seungkwan is quite smart, especially when it comes to his friends, so his head snaps back up to gawk at Soonyoung in surprise.

“You want to see them again,” he says slowly.

“Hopefully. Ideally.”

“This is either going to go really well, or it’ll end up being the worst fumble of your life.”

“I should have just stayed home with Seokmin,” Soonyoung says accusingly. “At least he has some level of faith in me.”

Seungkwan just sighs, pushing his glasses up with all the exhaustion a twenty-four year old could possibly muster.

“I suppose you can tag along next time,” he decides graciously. “Although I have no idea when ‘next time’ would even be, but —”

“Really? You’re the best,” Soonyoung beams. “I’ll do all the dishes for the next month, I swear.”

Seungkwan just smiles, internally grateful for the reprieve from spending so much time in the kitchen. Seokmin, for one, can’t go a day without accidentally breaking a glass or plate, so this is the next best option. 

“Alright,” he says gleefully. “Suit yourself.”

The next time Soonyoung sees you, it’s purely by accident.

It’s a small restaurant in the neighborhood, one especially beloved by Seungkwan for its kalguksu, so he and Seokmin accompany him for lunch. Neither of them have much going on, anyways, and they haven’t been able to have a meal together for quite a while.

But when he holds the door open for the person behind him, it doesn’t really hit him at first that it’s you. Not until he hears you, at least, saying hello to the owner in that clear voice that he recognizes instantly.

Yet again, Seungkwan beats him to it, calling your name out excitedly. “What are you doing here?”

“Just getting some food before my next shift.” You look a little tired, even as you greet them all cordially. “Are these your roommates?”

“Right, this is Seokmin,” he points out, “and this is Soonyoung. You met him a few days ago at the store, remember?”

“I do remember,” you say with a faint smile. “The one who’s ‘allergic to reading’.”

Seokmin disguises the laugh that escapes him as a snort, and then a coughing fit. Soonyoung wants to strangle Seungkwan then and there, lunch be damned.

“Nice to see you again,” he manages instead, face heating up in embarrassment. You look so good under the lighting that he can’t even maintain eye contact, and your gentle gaze isn’t really helping either.

“You should come sit with us,” Seungkwan offers, “I promise we’re better company than eating alone.”

“I also promise Soonie won’t say anything stupid,” Seokmin cuts in.

“I’m going to kill you both later,” Soonyoung mutters under his breath.

The friendly fire doesn’t seem to deter you at all; you accept the offer gladly and end up right across the table from him. At first, you don’t really say much — he knows, the three of them on their own are loud enough as is — but he senses you coming out of your shell a little bit more the longer the meal goes.

“Oh, by the way,” Seokmin starts, reaching for his water. “You go to school with Seungkwan, right?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I think the first time we met was in a marketing management class last year.”

“I’m so sorry for you.”

Seungkwan frowns at him. “Are you even my friend or not?”

“To be honest, I didn’t really speak to him that much,” you clarify. “It was a huge class. But we did our final presentation in the same group.”

“Are you also in school for an MBA?” Seokmin asks curiously.

“Yes, but I’m focusing more on business economics and public policy,” you explain. “While Seungkwan is on more of a finance track.”

Soonyoung doesn’t say anything at all. He’s a little starstruck, and he just can’t help but hang onto your every word. You are so well-spoken, so smart; he barely even knows you, but he’s so proud of the things he’s learning that you’ve accomplished in life.

And then, in the middle of a story Seokmin is telling from when they were in college together, you check the time.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I really do have to go,” you apologize genuinely. “My shift starts soon, and I don’t want to be late.��

“Don’t be sorry! This was really nice,” Seungkwan says, also rising. “We should get together more often, since we’re in the same neighborhood a lot. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“For sure.” You smile at them warmly, and Soonyoung feels his heart skip a beat. “And feel free to drop by the store anytime, guys. You’re always welcome.”

All of you say your goodbyes at the door, and now he’s wishing he said something, anything earlier, because he’s not sure when he’s going to have the time to see you again. His unnatural silence definitely hasn’t gone unnoticed by his friends, and as always, they don’t cease their pestering until he spits it out.

“Did something happen?” Seokmin asks, genuinely concerned. “You promised you wouldn’t be mad if I told them about when you were drunk and actually thought you were a tiger!”

“No, no, it’s not that.”

“Kwannie, I think we broke him.”

“We didn’t break him,” Seungkwan corrects with a sly smile. “Someone else did.”

“Huh? Oh,” Seokmin’s mouth actually forms a capital O, his eyes going comically wide. “Oh, my god.”

“Okay, I know this is news to you, but I didn’t think it was that shocking,” Soonyoung grumbles.

“It’s just the first time in a while that you’ve been interested in somebody. Like, we all kind of assumed you weren’t trying to look for anything for a few years.” 

Soonyoung knows the answer to that was just that there was never enough time — between graduating, the job hunt, and now trying to achieve a sane level of work-life balance, it was hard to make time, and he hadn’t quite met the right person.

But you pique his curiosity, and he wants to get to know you more. Slowly, but surely. Baby steps. 

“Boo Seungkwan,” he says finally, voice determined, “you’re gonna have to wingman so hard your wings fall off!”

“… That one didn’t work at all.”

“Yep, sounded much better in my head.”

Days where you end up by yourself at work are your least favorite. It gets lonely in the small building, just you and the books lined up on shelves. Between assignments and the occasional customer, you do love to peruse the stories on the walls, but even that gets old sometimes. 

You love talking to people. You love telling them stories, giving the recommendations when they ask, you love interacting with those who just drop by out of curiosity —

The little bell rings, and you turn eagerly to the door before stopping short with surprise. It’s Seungkwan’s friend, from the day he lent you his econ notes. 

Right, you recall. Soonyoung.

“Hi,” he says nervously. He’s got a backpack slung over his shoulders, and he’s wearing a button down shirt with slacks, employee ID still around his neck. “Sorry, you must be wondering why someone like me is here.”

“No! Not at all,” you rush, closing your textbook. “Come in, please. I haven’t really had company all evening.”

Soonyoung smiles, understanding. “Slow day so far?”

“Yeah.”

He approaches your table carefully so he doesn’t knock over any of the stacks, setting his backpack on one of the stools. You emerge from behind your table, brushing some dust off of your jeans.

“Were you looking for something in particular?”

“Not really,” he says sheepishly, dark hair falling over his forehead. “I was kind of hoping you could, um, help me find something I’d enjoy reading.”

“Trying to get back into it?” you dare to tease, just slightly. You’re not sure if you’ve crossed a line, especially with someone you’ve only met twice, but Soonyoung just laughs with you, eyes forming happy crescents.

“I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have something to do after work to rewind,” he explains. 

“Right, it is nice to relax. Well, unless you’ve picked up a thriller or something like that.” You beckon for him to follow you, and he does. It’s kind of cute, the way he stares at the tall shelves in awe. “What kinds of things do you like to watch? You know — shows, movies, stuff like that.”

“I’m not much of a thriller guy,” he admits, rolling his sleeves up amidst the cozy heat of the store. “I like when the main characters get their happy ending, it’s so wholesome.”

You throw an amused smile over your shoulder. “A hopeless romantic?”

“I can’t help it, okay? I love love!”

“Nothing wrong with that,” you remark, compartmentalizing how adorable you think he is and putting it away in some corner of your brain. Never mind that. You finally find the shelf you were looking for, and pull out the book you had in mind. “I think you should give this a try, for starters, and depending on how you like it, we can go from there.”

Soonyoung glances at the title, flipping the book to read the back cover. “Pride and Prejudice?”

“A classic,” you tell him, tapping the cover. “Perfect for a romantic like you. It’s quite comedic, too, if you really understand Austen’s sense of humor.”

“Austen?”

“The author. One of my favorites,” you muse. “You’ll understand, when you read it. She has a very interesting way of narrating things.”

He nods, listening to your every word. “I guess I’ll find out for myself soon enough.”

The bell rings again, faintly, before you can say anything else. Soonyoung just looks at you with those expressive eyes, waiting.

“I should probably go help,” you say, a bit awkwardly.

“Yeah, you should,” he agrees.

“Well, if you want to take it home, I’ll be at the counter,” you inform him, “but if you want to read for a bit, there’s a couple of bean bags at the back. We close at seven-thirty.”

“Okay,” he says simply, fingers tracing the title on the cover. He looks very intrigued, and you smile to yourself. This is what you love about working here.

It takes you a little longer than expected at the counter; you wish Wonwoo was here, at the rate customers start filing in one after another. However, you know he’s taken the day off to study for a major exam, so you handle the steady flow alone.

By the time you’ve sent them all on their way, it’s nearly seven o’clock, and it’s now completely dark outside. Rearranging your things on the small table, you decide to head to the back and check on Soonyoung, since you haven’t seen him in a minute.

“Soonyoung?” you call, making your way through the shelves, and dodging the occasional book on the floor. No answer. Huh. Your brows furrow — has he fallen asleep? — as you turn the last corner.

Soonyoung is not reading; in fact, the book you gave him has been abandoned in favor of the cat on his lap he’s currently showering with attention. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but he’s talking softly to her, and what is most surprising is she’s completely still, curled up on his thighs. In the many months you’ve worked here, you’ve never seen her willing to be in such close proximity with someone before.

“I see you’ve met Koala,” you say gently, crouching down beside them. He looks up at you, and you swear he looks like he’s about to cry.

“Her name is Koala?”

“Yeah.” You point to the gray splotches on her body as she tucks her paws in closer to herself. “I came up with it, and she seemed to like it, so it stuck.”

“That’s the cutest thing ever,” he says, almost tearing up as he reaches to scratch her under her chin. “Does she just come in whenever? Like, is she anyone’s, or?”

You shake your head, stroking her head softly. “Not officially, but she spends most of her time in here, so we leave food and water out for her when we can. She’s good company on days where nobody comes in.”

“She’s so adorable,” he whispers in awe. “I would have adopted a cat a while ago, but Seokmin is very allergic, and we still live together, so…”

You hum in agreement, just watching the two of them coexist peacefully. Koala is fully loafing in his lap, eyes drooping closed and purring ever so softly.

“She likes you,” you observe. Soonyoung just laughs quietly, petting her back gingerly.

“Maybe I just have a way with animals,” he muses. “One time, I was walking back to my car after work and a sparrow just randomly perched on my shoulder. I didn’t even realize until I got in and started hearing chirping. I thought I was going crazy!”

“So Disney prince -esque,” you giggle.

“Ah, you flatter me too much.”

The moment feels like a little bubble, and you are so encased in the warmth of it that you almost forget to check the time. 

“Shit,” you mutter, glancing at your watch and standing back up. “I’m so sorry to cut your time short, but I should probably get to closing up right now.”

“Don’t apologize, I’ve probably overstayed my welcome, anyways,” Soonyoung says, a little abashed. He carefully picks Koala up and plops her down again, and she scampers away the moment her paws hit the floor. “Here, I’ll help you clean up.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” you tell him, heat rising to your cheeks. “There’s not much to do, anyways —”

“I insist,” he says simply, giving you that adorable, contagious smile. It’s hard to say no to a smile like that. “It’s the least I can do after I sat here for an hour playing with your cat instead of actually reading the book you took the time to pick out for me.”

You purse your lips stubbornly. “Fine, but you’re only in charge of the stuff at the counter and nothing else.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

And honestly, time seems to go by a lot faster when it’s not just you cleaning up and preparing for tomorrow. You sweep the floors while Soonyoung re-shelves the books left on the table up front, and you listen to his anecdotes as you get the work done.

He likes talking, and you like listening, you realize. But even more nuanced than that, is the fact that you like listening to him. 

He approaches you again when you’re at the counter going through the signed receipts you told him to leave alone so you could organize them accordingly, book in hand.

“Sorry I didn’t get through much of it today,” he apologizes, passing you the copy of Pride and Prejudice. “But I’d like to take it home to read. I did enjoy the part of it that I got through, so you really hit the nail on the head with that one.”

“Really? That’s good to hear, I’m really glad,” you say, scanning the barcode and logging the ISBN number before you hand it back to him. “This one’s on the house. Think of it as a little gift to start your reading journey.”

“What? No, you don’t need —”

“Soonyoung,” you interrupt gently, “Please. I insist.”

He doesn’t refute that, face morphing into a shy smile as he accepts your gesture. “Thank you.”

At the end of the day, when all is said and done, you slip your books back into your bag, grabbing your jacket off of its hook. Soonyoung just waits patiently as you get ready to lock up, absentmindedly toying with his lanyard as he stands by the door.

“I’m sorry that took a while,” you tell him. It’s nearly half past eight now, and you feel a little guilty for letting him stay. “I know you dropped by after a work day, too, it must have been tiring.”

“Not at all. I had fun, and I’m really glad I got to meet Koala.” His hair is a little tousled now. You find it cute. 

“Still,” you say, “thanks for sticking around until closing. You really didn’t have to.”

He just beams back at you. “I wanted to.”

Those honest words put butterflies in your stomach. You don’t know where to look, so your eyes fall everywhere, anywhere but him.

Quietly, you follow him out the doors, shivering slightly as you turn to lock them. It’s a little windy out, and the breeze sends a chill through your whole body, but Soonyoung seems to exude some type of warmth, the kind that makes you feel at peace and safe.

The two of you follow the same sidewalk for a few minutes, but your street arrives a little faster than you would have liked.

“I live down this way,” you break the calm silence, gesturing vaguely to the road.

“It’s not too far, right? It’s really dark out,” Soonyoung asks, his tone laced with concern.

“It’s not too long of a walk. I’ll be alright.” You pull your jacket tighter around yourself, like a shield from the cold and all of the thoughts you shouldn’t be having for a man you’ve only met a couple of times.

“I’ll see you around,” you add, but it comes out sounding more like a hopeful question.

Soonyoung just smiles. “Yeah,” he says in that honeyed voice of his.

(It sounds more like an answer than anything else.)

“See you around.”

There are a lot of notifications Kwon Soonyoung receives on his phone — the work group chat, his roommates, his family — but his favorite ones are the texts from you.

He loves it when you send him pictures of Koala while he’s at work, or the occasional update on how your assignments are going, but most of all, he loves when you start talking about your favorite stories and how much they mean to you.

Over the past couple weeks, he’s dropped by the store at least a couple of times every week, always making sure to help you close up before leaving. Sometimes you joke that you’ll need to hire him as a part-timer, and honestly, if he wasn’t already employed he doesn’t think he’d mind it. It’s become a safe haven for him; he likes how cozy the atmosphere is in there, and he likes getting to spend time with you.

You are so smart, and you never think any less of him, even when he cringes a little bit after a particularly dumb question leaves his mouth. But you never mind it, always explaining it to him with ease. Always so patient, always willing to hear his silly thoughts out.

Being with you is like being bathed in the first ray of sunlight after winter. He thinks he could relive that feeling forever.

“I think you should just ask them out,” Seungkwan always says. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“They could ghost me forever and never speak to me again?”

“Oh, that’d be bad,” Seungkwan muses, “but I don’t think they’d do that. Honestly, Soonie, they seem as into you as you are into them. I don’t think you have a lot to worry about.”

Soonyoung looks up, in the middle of typing up a response to you, and pauses. 

“I don’t even know if they’re looking for something right now,” he says slowly. “What if they’re not ready for a relationship?”

“How do you know that?” Seungkwan asks, mildly irritated at just how dense his friend is being. “Isn’t that a question you should ask them before you jump to conclusions?”

“Yeah, you are leaping,” Seokmin adds, not looking up from the video game he’s playing. “With a long jump medal on the horizon.”

Soonyoung purses his lips, sinking back into the couch. They’re both right, he knows that, but his current situation is so precarious it feels like a step in any direction will lead to unintentional self sabotage. At the same time, even the slight chance that you’ll look at him the same way makes him want to take the risk.

“Okay,” he mumbles, very aware of Seungkwan’s sharp eyes on him while his own are glued to his phone screen. “We’ll see.”

Except nobody does see, because all the courage in Soonyoung’s body immediately evaporates at the sight of your bright smile, asking if he’s had a good day while Koala tries crawling up your shoulder. How is he supposed to ask you something so important when he can barely manage a hello?

He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to formulate thoughts when you’re looking at him like this. He thinks he could get lost in the warmth of your gaze.

“Soonyoung, are you okay?”

“Huh?” He blinks, brain rebooting. “Sorry, uh — where was I?”

“You were telling me about Seokmin’s dog,” you say patiently, though the amused grin on your face doesn’t go unnoticed. Not by him, and certainly not by Wonwoo, who just barely conceals a laugh at the entire situation.

“Oh, right,” Soonyoung nods, embarrassed. God, get a grip, dude. “Coco. Yes. We all really love Coco.”

Wonwoo doesn’t manage to hide the snort that escapes him this time. You level a glare at him and he quiets down.

“I’m sure you do,” is all you say, and Soonyoung sends a prayer up to whatever higher power exists that you aren’t calling him out on how awkward he’s being right now. He hasn’t really been able to function normally since he walked in, anyways. “Doesn’t Seungkwan’s family have a dog, too? I feel like he mentioned it at some point.”

“Right, yeah, they do.”

You sigh, hands on your hips. “They’ve got a couple of parakeets, right?” you ask, testing him with a lie.

“Mhm.”

“And a horse in their backyard?”

“Yeah, for sure.”

“Soonyoung.”

The sharpness of your voice and the sound of his name jolt him back to his senses. Your expression is firm now, and Wonwoo is nowhere to be seen, leaving the two of you alone under the dim light. He scrambles for something, anything, to say in response.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Is something up?” You frown, folding your arms. “You’ve been weird since you walked in, and you won’t tell me what’s going on either.”

A caption this: of his face right now would read ‘Deer in Headlights’. “What? I’m not being weird!”

“Soon—”

“Go out with me?” 

His mouth immediately drops open at listening to himself blurt out the words he’d been thinking for some time now. He hears a stack of books drop at the back and internally kicks himself, realizing Wonwoo was likely eavesdropping.

“Sorry,” he rushes to say, anxious. “That — Shit, I wasn’t supposed to say that, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Your previously stunned face falls a little bit. “You weren’t?”

“What — you’re not mad?”

“No?” You’re staring at him in disbelief. “Should I be?”

Soonyoung feels a little tug at the bottom of his jeans, followed by a dainty meow, and he reaches down to scoop Koala up and let her get comfortable on his lap.

“I’m glad you’re not,” he says, scratching her chin gently, “but I really thought you would be.” 

“Oh.” You don’t know what to say next, fingers tracing and retracing the embossed letters on one of the hard copies on your desk. “So…”

It’s now or never, Soonyoung thinks, and he’s already gone too far for him to backtrack and choose never.

“I like you,” he starts, a bit awkwardly. Eye contact is suddenly the hardest thing ever. “I know you always feel bad, but I like staying until closing and helping you clean up. I like listening to you talk about books I’ve never heard of before, and I like letting you practice your presentations on me when nobody comes in some days, even if you think they’re really boring.”

“Econ is pretty boring,” you point out, ignoring the heat that creeps up in your cheeks.

“Not if it’s you,” he insists. “I could sit through an entire lecture if you were teaching it, and you know I can’t sit still at all.”

This draws a laugh out of you. “That is true,” you concede.

“You’re so smart, so hardworking,” Soonyoung takes a tentative step towards you, heart absolutely pounding in his ears, “and I’d really like to take you out. A proper date, somewhere nice.” He pauses, clearing his throat. “Only if you want to, of course.”

“If I tell you that I like you back, I think you’ll get even redder, and I don’t know if that’s physically possible,” you tease, before saying gently, “Of course I want to, Soonyoung. A date with you sounds lovely.”

From her cozy spot on his lap, Koala stretches her head up and lets out a loud meow.

“See, she agrees too,” you laugh, reaching over to pat her head. Soonyoung, though, is still stuck in a moment from a couple of seconds ago.

“You like me back?”

“I thought we already established that when I said I wasn’t mad!”

“Just feels kind of unreal now that you’ve said it,” he mumbles in disbelief. “I didn’t anticipate this going so well, honestly, but… I knew I’d regret it forever if I never asked.”

“I’m glad you did, though. I was too scared to say anything,” you admit.

Wonwoo chooses to emerge from the stacks once again, before Soonyoung can say anything. He glances between the two of you, the grin on his face giving his eavesdropping away.

“Am I allowed to say I told you so?” he asks proudly, then, “Okay, okay, please don’t fire me,” as he backs away, wincing at the stern look you give him.

“Do you have to be so harsh on him?”

“We’ll never hear the end of it from him if I’m not,” you say, eyes narrowed. “One time, I almost fell off of one of the stools and he called me vertically challenged for a week.”

Stifling a laugh, Soonyoung points out, “You know Seungkwan won’t let us live this down for ages, right? I think he and Seokmin are tired of hearing me worry about this for the past few weeks.”

“I took care of Wonwoo, so those two are your domain,” you chuckle, “but I have a feeling you’re going to get the short end of the stick with them rather than me.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Dusk falls after your part-timer clocks out for the day, leaving just you and Soonyoung in the store. There’s an unspoken tension in the air, but the good kind, that blankets you like a cloak on a winter’s day. It feels cozy, like it was always meant to be that way. It just feels right.

“Do you want to close up with me?” you ask shyly, watching Koala scurry away. It’s almost time to go home, but you want to end your day with him by your side.

Soonyoung just beams back at you warmly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

And no matter what Seungkwan’s teasing words might be later, this feels like everything he’s wanted. This moment couldn’t be more perfect, he thinks as he gazes out the window. 

The stars shine like well-wishers from the sky, the moon like a blessing, and you are next to him, head just barely leaning on his shoulder. Little pieces of heaven, existing on earth as memories.

Soonyoung’s heart is full, and his hand is in yours. Life is good.

thank u sm for reading! feedback always appreciated :) and, stay tuned for a drabble following this couple coming soon! much love, ashi xx

[thehereticdiaries]

Into the Wonderland: Chapter One

Chapter Summary: You were just trying to enjoy lunch and get some school work done. Unfortunately, a classmate interrupted in the worst way possible and you turn to two of the other patrons for help.

Warnings: Assault, attempted force bond, asshole alpha classmate, idk let me know if I missed anything

A/N: the google doc for this series is called "mingi's squaring up" and i find that very funny also i promise i'm gonna add more to each series!! i just want to get all of the first chapters out with some one-shots in between :3

Series Masterlist

(“Korean dialogue” / “English dialogue”)

Your afternoon class for the day was canceled last-minute. The hastily-written email came in less than 15 minutes before it was supposed to start, something about a family emergency. For you, this meant you had time to go to your favorite restaurant for lunch. You were well-known among the staff, considering one of your family friends was the owner.

“Hey, Y/N! Don’t you normally have a class right now?” The host greeted you as you approached the counter.

“It was canceled today. I’m gonna use the time to eat and work on a project for bioinformatics,” you explained. The host hummed in understanding.

“You want to sit in Minali’s section?” You nodded eagerly. Minali was your favorite server. Whenever you came in on her shift, you sat with her. The host gestured for you to follow. She led you back to a small booth in the back corner (you loved this booth because it had an outlet). You thanked the host and got your laptop set up. Minali waved at you with a bright smile. You smiled back and opened R to begin a new coding page.

“Oh, hi Y/N.” You barely started on your code when you were interrupted. You looked up and stared at the guy next to your table for a second.

“Hey! Marcus, right?” 

“You remember, that’s good. It would’ve been awkward if you didn’t.” Marcus rubbed the back of his neck. Your nose scrunched up at his scent, as he wasn’t wearing any scent blockers. It was common courtesy to wear blockers when at a restaurant. You had put on patches before you even stepped in the building. The blockers made sure everyone would be able to enjoy their food without distraction. Marcus was an exchange student, so maybe he just didn’t know. You decided to let it slide.

“As if I could forget your name with how often Dr. Byeon sings your praises,” you teased with a shake of your head. 

“Ah, sorry about that,” he winced.

“Don’t apologize for having such good grades. It’ll help you in the long run.” You waved a bit before turning back to your laptop. God, where did you even want to start with this code?

“Do you mind if I sit here for a minute? My friend is meeting me here soon.” Marcus pointed to the bench across from you. 

“Sure, go ahead.” You jumped when he sat down right next to you. “Uh, you wanna move to the other side?”

“Nah, I don’t. I want to talk to you omega.” You glared at his use of your presentation. He smirked at you, snaking an arm around the back of the booth.

“Well that sucks for you. I’m not interested,” you sneered, slightly baring your teeth. Marcus’ face dropped to annoyance. “I think it’s best for you to leave. Go wait for your friend at the host stand.”

“Yeah? I think it would be best for you to listen when an alpha is speaking.” You rolled your eyes. So he was one of those alphas: pig-headed, easily agitated, and couldn't take no for an answer. “I’ve seen the way you look at me in class. You want me just as bad as I want you.”

“As if! I only ever look at you if you’re presenting your code, you jackass,” you spat and crossed your arms over your chest. 

“I don’t believe that, Y/N. Your scent is always sweeter when you look at me.” And this was why you usually wore scent blockers to class. You could count the number of times you went to class without them on one hand.

“Dude, leave me alone or I will call over the manager.” Marcus scowled at your threat. For a tense moment, he sat in a seething silence. Your glare didn’t falter, which only pissed him off more. Then the hand that was resting on the booth snapped to the back of your neck. You jolted and shoved yourself further into the corner of the booth. Marcus lunged forward, aiming for your neck. You yelped at the feeling of his teeth scraping your scent gland. 

You jabbed your fingers into Marcus’ ribs, loosening his grip on your neck. You quickly ducked under the table and crawled into the aisle. You scoffed in shock. Did this asshole really just try to force a claim on you?!

“What. The. Fuck, Marcus?” You hissed at your classmate. He leapt out of the booth and you stumbled back a few steps. You turned and rushed up to the host stand. She wasn’t there, but two men stood by the stand. They wore masks and scrolled on their phones while they waited for the host to return. The taller of the pair wore a black hoodie, and the other wore a bomber jacket. Without thinking, you wiggled your way between the pair. They looked down at you, eyebrows raised. 

“Hi! Please hide me,” you pleaded. They glanced up at each other before returning to you. You gave a weak smile and puppy eyes.

“Come on, babe. You don’t need to bother these guys just because you’re mad at me,” Marcus lied smoothly. Any indication of anger had disappeared as he pulled the amused boyfriend act. The taller man (that you were currently hiding behind) moved his gaze from you to Marcus. 

“I’m so sorry to bother you-”

“Hey, use English. You know I don’t understand Korean. I don’t want you lying to make yourself look like the victim,” Marcus interrupted. You looked to the man behind you. His eyebrows were furrowed, somewhere between confusion and anger.

“Do you know this guy?” He asked, stepping a tiny bit closer. Marcus glared at the stranger. 

“Yeah, he’s my classmate. He came up to me and asked to sit with me while he waited for a friend,” you began rambling. They listened intently, but didn’t look away from Marcus. The smell of his anger was burning the back of their throats. “Anyway, he didn’t like that I refused a date, so he tried to force a claiming bite on me.” 

“What?!” The shorter of the two exclaimed and turned back to you. The one in front of you stayed locked on Marcus, even though he startled at your admission. 

“Listen, I don’t know what she’s saying to you, but she’s my girlfriend and she’s just pissed I was late,” Marcus cut in. You subconsciously grabbed the sleeve of the man in front of you, just in case Marcus tried to grab you again. 

“I swear, he is just a classmate. We’re not dating. Hell, we aren’t even friends!” You huffed. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, let’s go, Y/N. You’ve wasted enough of these guys’ time,” Marcus demanded and stepped forward. You felt a hand on the small of your back. The man in front of you angled his arm to shield you from your approaching classmate. 

“Yea, I don’t think I believe you,” the taller man drawled in a heavy accent. He tilted his head, sizing up the irritated alpha.

“Dude, come on. She’s fucking lying to you!”

“So? Even if her story is fake, you’re still walking around a restaurant angry and with no scent blockers,” the guy behind you spoke up. You sagged in relief. 

“From where I stand, you look like an alpha trying to use his smell as intimidation,” the taller man concluded. Marcus scowled and clenched his fists. The man in the hoodie removed your hand from his sleeve, pushing you toward his friend. He stepped up to Marcus, towering over him. He glowered down at your classmate. He didn’t falter even as the bell above the door jingled. A fourth man paused at the door, surveying the scene in front of him. 

“Seonghwa, Mingi looks like he’s about to throw hands with some guy,” the newcomer turned and shouted behind him. You heard a soft ‘eh?!’ then multiple sets of hurried footsteps. Six men squeezed into the waiting area of the restaurant. 

“Ah, fuck. San, help me get Mingi back. Yunho go get the manager,” a man with dark, chin-length hair instructed. He and two others sprang into action. One disappeared into the restaurant while the other two grabbed Mingi’s arms in an attempt to draw him back.

“Let go.” Mingi shook their hands off of him. “This asshole tried to force a claim bite on that girl!” Half of the group now stood around you, blocking you from Marcus’ sight.

There was a tense silence as Mingi and Marcus stared each other down. That was until Marcus growled and stepped toward you. Mingi swung without hesitation, punching your classmate square on the jaw. Marcus stumbled backwards.

“Motherfucker, you son of a bitch! I’ll fucking kill you,” Marcus snarled. You gasped. You didn’t think things would devolve to violence. Bomber jacket and one of his friends each shielded you with an arm. Mingi just titled his head at the threats, clearly not worried.

“WHAT is going on out here?!” A voice boomed as the group member returned with a middle-aged man marching in front of him.

“Ji-Won!” You called and pushed your way forward. The man turned to you and wrapped a protective arm around your shoulder. “Oppa, that guy is one of my classmates and he attacked me. I felt his teeth brush against my neck.” You shuddered. Ji-Won whipped his head around to Marcus.

“Leave my restaurant, you are not welcome here,” the elder snapped. Marcus glared around the room, chest heaving in anger.

“You better watch your fucking back, man.” He growled and cracked his neck before storming out the door. Everyone stared after him for a moment.

“Holy shit.” Ji-Won cast a face of disapproval at your language. “Thank you so, so much for your help.”

“No need to thank us. He was a creep, and I wasn’t about to let him take you,” the guy in the bomber jacket spoke up.

“Hongjoong, I cannot thank you enough. Y/N’s mother is a dear friend of mine. I don’t know what I would have done if something happened to her while under my supervision,” Ji-Won praised the young man. Hongjoong’s eyes crinkled in a hidden smile. 

“Have you had a chance to eat yet, my dear?” Ji-Won turned to you. You shook your head.

“Nah, Marcus showed up before Minali could even bring my drink.”

“Would you want to join us?” Several sets of confused eyes turned to Mingi, who just shrugged. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Oh, I couldn’t intrude-”

“You wouldn’t be,” Hongjoong spoke up this time. You looked around at the other members of the group. Two of them looked confused, and one looked incredibly bored, but most were nodding in agreement.

“If you’re sure. Let me go grab my stuff,” you hesitantly agreed and turned to go back to the booth you were originally seated in. In your panic, you had abandoned all of your schoolwork and belongings.

Back in the waiting area, Mingi watched as you walked away. He was feeling protective, and he didn’t like letting you go on your own. 

Get a hold of yourself, you can’t be this overprotective to a girl you barely know! She looks cute in that skirt, though. Fuck, don’t look at her thighs. Don’t look at her thighs. Shit I looked, Jesus-

“Mingi, you good?” Wooyoung’s voice snapped him out of his inner ramblings. He sent the younger member a tight-lipped smile. The host informed the group that the private room was ready. They waited until you returned to head into the room. 

Well, this should be interesting, you thought as you sat down.

[berriweb]

╰┈➤ ❝ unconditional love ❞

: ̗̀➛ ft. johnathan ohnn x gn! reader

: ̗̀➛ warnings. none

: ̗̀➛ a/n. someone save me from the chokehold pathetic men have me in, especially this one in particular, Im addicted to this man😞

“does it not bother you?”

The question pulled you out of your trance, almost not catching it as you’d become so consumed in the background noise that the drama series you’d put on played on your TV. Your gaze shifted from the flashing pictures on the screen to where Johnathan laid, his lanky body entangled with your limbs, arms wrapped around your waist and his head snuggled into your chest and turned with his ear pressed right above where your heart would be so he could better view the screen.

“Hm?” You chirped at first, taking note of his refusal to turn and look at you, even if your gaze technically couldn’t be met. The episode that played showed a couple in the show going on innocent dates, something akin to a slice of life to make up for all of the building tension in the series. Part of you wondered if that was the cause of his sudden question.

“This…all of this, does it not bother you in the slightest? Our situation.” The second time around, Johnathan sat up, pulling his arms away from your body but still focusing on the screen. That part of you was right. “We don’t get to go out for dates anymore, we can’t see movies and eat at fancy restaurants- I can never see your friends or family, we can’t do any of that. How are you just okay with it?”

His words gave a mixture of guilt and frustration in his tone, and your heart aches for him. Besides the initial discussion when you first found out what had happened to your boyfriend, you two hadn’t really talked much about how things would go from then on. You just fell into a pattern that the two of you silently agreed on, and part of that agreement was that Johnathan didn’t really go out much due to his insecurities and knowing that he’d never be seen as normal, never accepted.

“Johnny, I don’t-” “And in the house too,” he started, not even seeming to realize that he’d cut you off, “I don’t have a face anymore, I’m not me. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Your hands pulled away from him before cupping his cheeks and gently turning his head to face you, eyeing the hole where his features should’ve been. He didn’t try to resist. “I’m not going to lie and act like I don’t miss your face, none of this was fair too you and you don’t deserve any of it. But I didn’t fall in love with your face, I fell in love with you. None of this is going to change that.”

“And the others? Being seen with me in public would be shameful.”

“I’m never ashamed of you.”

He let out a sigh and his head hung low, you were lucky that his expressive personality and your ability to read him so well made up for the fact that he no longer had a face to express himself with. “We can still go out, I’m never against that. If there’s anyone in my life that even thinks of shunning you like the rest of them did then so be it, I wouldn’t want to be associated with someone like that anyway.”

You silently pulled his head back down to your chest and laid your own head back, staring up at the ceiling as you felt him relax on top of you.

“How are you so good at this?” He muttered.

“I’m not, you’re just easy to influence.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“…you know, if you’re really worried about going out in public we could go see a movie or something. No one would even pay you any mind in the theater, it’ll be like baby steps. You can’t stay cooped up in here forever.”

Johnathan picked his head up to look at you. “Really?” He asked, sounding both surprised, nervous and just a tad bit excited.

“Of course, there is just one thing that does bother me though.” He tensed up for a moment, and you almost felt bad for springing the topic on him.

“What? What is it?”

“You’re gonna have to put on some clothes.”

“…that’s it?”

“I’ve been wondering for a while why you stopped, it’s just a bit weird.”

“It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve seen me naked…”

“You did it the few times we went out in public too!” You argued, and he got defensive.

“I didn’t think it mattered! It’s not like I have-”

“It’s the principle, Johnny.”

[afyrian]

☆ why not

sakusa kiyoomi x fem!reader (fluff) m.list | wc: 1.2k | prompts: meet cute + failed new years party

    music blares through comically large speakers, a music video playing through the television screen. it shakes the floorboards beneath your feet, vibrating through your socks and up your shins. a drink's top is held by your hand, holding it low with your hand covering the top. most of it is still filled, a warm buzz still lingering in your chest from your roommate's pregame. standing in the corner, you stare out at all of the people dancing with their partners and friends.

  someone close to you laments to one of their friends, complaining about not having someone at midnight. that they were turned down by far too many guys this year and she's just ready for it to be over. another mentions leaving early, watching a movie and relaxing as a form of 'rebellion' against the institutional rule. inspired by their ideas, you push against the far wall you're leaning against and make your way through the crowd.

  people press up against you, bumping into you with nearly every limb. holding your drink up high, you break free from the group, making your way down a lonely hallway. stepping into the kitchen, you can clearly see it's owned by a group of guys with the sole intention of throwing parties. grime settles on the kitchen counter, specks of grease smeared across the stove top.

  setting down your glass in the sick, you hear the sickening sounds of someone throwing up in the next room over. grimacing, you head back down the hallway, hand feeling the wall as you peek around the corner. there stands a few glasses on liquor on the floor, puke muddled within. one of the members of this house has puke up and down his sweater and pants. holding back the slight nausea building up, you open up the small closet’s door.

  inside is a mound of coats built up to your waist, your brown jacket pushed down halfway through. the material bunches up in your hand. looking over, you see your roommate walking over to you, a scowl on her face. “where are you going?” her voice is quiet, the music having died down since the ‘incident’.

  “i’m leaving. you have other people here, and i’m not drunk enough to be stupid. you know i’m not a party person, so, i’m gonna go back and watch a movie,” you whisper back, pulling the sleeves over your arms and zipping it up.

  “but it’s nearly midnight! and i’m sure i can find someone-”

  “no, no thank you! last time you ‘found someone’ for me, i ended up walking back to our dorm from an awful restaurant that was three miles away,” your head shakes quickly, pushing past your roommate and to the front door, opening and closing the door with a quickness that you never could’ve expected. 

  outside the chilly air is sharp, like needles prickling at your nose. stuffing your hands into your pockets, you start down their long driveway, excited that just two blocks away is your warm dorm room. snow trickles down from the sky, building up against the grass and streets slowly. pursing your lips, you start to realize just how quiet this area is at night.

  the only noise being the sound of someone else shutting the house’s door. looking back, you see someone walking towards you, the dark outdoors making his face indiscernible. furrowing your eyebrows, you keep walking, your heart beating quickly. “uh l/n?” his voice is smooth, your name sending a sharp uptick of fear in your heart.

  looking back, you swallow whatever saliva was building, “i’m sorry, who’s asking?”

  “sorry, i’m sakusa. i think we’re in the same anatomy course. i told my teammates i was gonna head back to my dorm and your roommate asked if i’d walk you back. as it’s rather late,” he comes into view of a nearby streetlight.

  his face is soft, handsome. two moles rest above his eyebrow, curly hair escaping a beanie that’s been put on haphazardly. leather gloves cover his hands, moving into his pockets to protect them from the chilly air. “right, she knows how to meddle. i assume she mentioned something about ‘being with her for midnight’,” you shake your head, continuing your walk as he quickens his stride to join you.

  “well, she didn’t. one of my teammates, atsumu, assured me that it’d be a great way to have my first new years kiss,” he shakes his head, walking with your stride, head turning like he’s checking the clock on his watch, “which would be in ten minutes.”

  you nod, trying to keep your heart from beating quicker every time you look at him. “right, well, i’m not usually one to kiss after really meeting someone for only ten minutes, no offense,” you bump into his shoulder, foot prints following the both of you down the street, surely to be covered by the incoming snow. 

  sakusa agrees, trying to keep his head staring straight. he can remember almost every time in class that you lifted your hand, that you looked to your friend and whispered something when the teacher announced a quiz. a part of him is happy to have finally had a chance to meet you. but looking at you, staring into your eyes, he knows he’s incapable.

  “none taken, i’m not really the type either. so… how are you fairing in anatomy?” 

  you look over at him and his attempt at keeping a conversation going. shrugging your shoulders, you give him a half-hearted smile, “okay, not my strongest suit but i don’t think i’ll fail, and that’s the only thing holding me on.”

  sakusa nods, walking past the next street with you. the college town’s layout appears perfect for students who don’t have a car (which happens to be most of them). passing a few apartment buildings, you see your dorm hall just one more street down. it’s decorated with holiday decorations, bringing a smile to your face. 

  “well, if you need any help, i would be more than happy to work with you,” sakusa looks over to you, looking straight ahead as you look back to him, a moment of uncertainty. 

  “i would like that, yeah. sorry, your friends forced you to walk me home. you really didn’t have to,” you stop at a stop light, turning to face him, hands clasped in front of you.

  his eyebrows furrow, body finally turning towards your’s, a smile on his lips. “but i wanted to, even if some of it was simply a set up,” sakusa swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing as he nervously shrugs his shoulders.

  “thank you, i mean we could tell them that we kissed, to get them off of our backs.”

  “sure, or we could just kiss.”

  you look up at him, smiling widely, looking up at the sky and back to him. taking a moment, you breath in the fresh city air. it’s quiet right now, the only sound being of people chanting down the time. “yeah, why not,” you bring your hand up to his neck, pulling him in for a kiss right as fireworks go off.

  he tastes of a light bourbon, something fancier than anyone would’ve had at the party. the smell of leather and the feeling of his gloved hand on your cheek sends a smile to your lips. sakusa feels it, smiling as well before pulling back, his forehead on your’s. “they’re gonna love this story.”

  “not as much as i do.”

a/n: happy new years everyone!! gen. taglist (open): @eggyrocks @causenessus @applepi25 @softpia @bakery-anon

@nekozaki @nnnyxie @kameyyy

[harmonicakai]

Was It Something I Said?

Part 5 of the "Anyone Else But You" series

Pairing: Huening Kai x Reader

Summary: It gets harder and harder for you and Kai to pretend like there isn't something going on between the two of you.

Tropes: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, fluff, angst, stylist!reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex (mdni!!!!), reader is insecure, miscommunication, alcohol, injuries

A/N: ahhh this series is almost over!!! i'm gonna miss it so much, but there's still plenty to come :-)

FIC INSPIRED PLAYLIST <3

“Did I fuck it up again? Are we destined to be friends? I wanna give you more than that” —Be Around Me, Will Joseph Cook

Kai and the boys have been in Japan for two days now, but with the amount of times that he has you on the phone, it feels like he never even left. Even if he refuses to talk about what happened at the album party, things are going pretty well between you and him.

You’re about to head out the door when your phone rings. You don’t even need to check the caller ID.

“Y/N, you didn’t call! The show’s about to start and you didn’t call!” Kai’s voice rings out of your phone’s speaker. While you can tell he’s mostly joking, he’s also a little worked up.

“Kai, we just talked, like, two hours ago. You know I have that date tonight.” Oh, he knows.

“Yeah, but I like when you call right before I’m about to go on stage. You’re my good luck charm.”

“You’re just being superstitious.”

“I wish you could see me pouting right now.” His sad puppy dog visuals pop into your head.

“Ugh, fine,” you relent. “You’re going to do amazing, Hyuka. Fighting!”

“That’s my girl!” he laughs, immediately ready to give his all on the stage. “I miss you so much.” 

His affection catches you off guard and you go quiet. 

“Hello?” he asks. “Y/N, are you there?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m still here. Call me back so I can know how it went, okay?”

“You know I will,” he assures you. There’s obvious disappointment in his voice.

“Hueningie, it’s time to go!” you hear Taehyun call in the background.

“I have to go. Bye. Have fun on your date!”

“Bye,” you say. He ends the call and you feel an ache in your stomach. You miss him too, so why couldn’t you have just said it back?

When you finally get out the front doors of your building, Seongjin’s already waiting for you, flowers in hand. You note his outfit, something similar to what you have pinned on your “boyfriend manifestation” moodboard.

“Hey,” he says, holding the bouquet out to you. “These are for you.”

“They’re lovely,” you smile, bringing them to your nose to sniff them. You love the smell of roses. “I don’t think anybody’s ever gotten me flowers before.”

“Well, there’s more where that came from.” Seongjin’s hand finds its way into yours. He’s bold and romantic, even dressing exactly how you’d like him to. He’s checking off all of your boxes, and yet something feels off.

As the two of you walk towards the city’s center, you actually have no clue what he’s planned for tonight until he stops outside of a restaurant that you’ve had on your bucket list for years now.

“You’re joking!” you say in disbelief. “You have to get a reservation months in advance to eat here, and even then it’s impossible.”

“I called in a few favors,” he grins, holding the door open for you. You blush, wondering what you’ve done to deserve even a fraction of the effort he’s gone through.

The dinner’s going okay. There’s just something about the way that Seongjin’s meticulously planned everything, even his responses to your small talk, that makes you suspicious. He feels too perfect, almost unreal.

You find yourself focusing more on the delicious food than on any of what he’s been saying.

“You know,” he starts, “I only went to that album party because I knew you’d be there.”

The hint of Seongjin speaking in a less rehearsed way grabs your attention. You look up to see him grinning.

“No, you didn’t,” you laugh, dismissing him. “You probably didn’t even know who I was before Yeonjun introduced us.”

“Of course I did. I’ve thought you were cute for a while now. The way you’re always running around with your arms full of clothes. I can’t wait to debut so you can dress me up.”

You can’t believe that anybody had even noticed you around the building, let alone taken a romantic interest. If only somebody else felt that way. 

“Well, does that mean you’re not a big fan of TXT?” you ask, sipping your wine. You’re mostly joking, but also curious what his honest opinion of the group is.

“I mean, obviously, I think my uncle makes great songs for them. But besides Yeonjun, I don’t think they’re the kind of guys I’d really hang out with, you know?”

Your face heats up at his answer and your energy shifts. “No, I don’t know. Care to explain?”

“The other guys just seem so dorky. Not to mention half of them were wasted at a work event. Like that Huening kid whose outburst interrupted our conversation. What was that about anyway?”

“It’s none of your business,” you scoff, setting your silverware down. “And he’s not a kid. He’s almost twenty-two.”

“Look, Y/N, I know you’re close with them. I didn’t mean to make you upset. We don’t have to talk about this anymore.”

“You’re right, we don’t,” you say, standing up and gathering your things. “Thank you for dinner. I’ll see you around, I guess.”

On your way home, you start to wonder if you’ve made a mistake blowing off someone so well connected, but the way he talked about your friends makes your blood boil. 

Then again, things had been going just fine before then. Maybe you should’ve just smiled and nodded like you usually do. You’re not sure when you’ll ever get asked on another date again, let alone one that was planned so well.

Suddenly, your phone rings and for some reason, you answer. “What do you want now, Kai?!” you snap into the speaker.

“Whoa,” an unexpected voice replies, dragging out the word. “Actually, it’s Yeonjun.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” you groan, embarrassed at your attitude. “Hi, Jun.”

“So, I’m guessing your date didn’t go very well?”

“I think I’m going to get fired,” you huff, finally reaching your building again.

“That bad, huh? Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t know. He’s handsome and thoughtful and everything I could ask for really, but there wasn’t any sort of spark. Plus he called everyone in the group except you dorky, and that’s when I just got up, thanked him, and left.”

“Everyone else is dorky, Y/N. You really couldn’t wait until the end of dinner because of that?” 

“Fine, it’s stupid when I say it out loud. But the damage is already done,” you sigh, digging through your purse for your keys.

“I’m sure he’d reconsider if you apologize,” he reasons with you. You’re not sure that you actually have anything to be sorry about.

“I shouldn’t have to! He was making fun of Kai!” That’s it, you realize. That’s the reason you’re so upset. Of course this is somehow about him.

“Ah, I see now,” Yeonjun says, dropping the issue. “Well, hopefully you won’t run into him at work much.”

“Hopefully,” you agree. “How was the show?”

“It was amazing,” he muses. “I really played off the crowd’s energy, and they loved my solo stage.”

“That’s awesome, Jun,” you smile back. Ever since you and Kai have grown closer, it’s felt like Yeonjun has taken a backseat. “Anything interesting happen?”

“Soobin tried to do the Water challenge,” he laughs. “We all ran to cover him up, though. Beomgyu played the guitar, and MOA kept mentioning how Taehyun looked like Ash Ketchum.”

“Maybe you guys need to do a Pokémon concept,” you think out loud. You don’t fail to notice that Yeonjun has conveniently left out Kai from his recap, as if he’s testing to see whether you’ll bring him up first.

“Would I get to be a fire type trainer?” Yeonjun asks. So, he really isn’t going to mention how Kai did tonight. You bite your lip, resisting the urge to ask about him.

“Yes, of course. I think Soobin would be water, Beomgyu grass, and Taehyun psychic. Actually, wait. Maybe Beomgyu would have fairy types.”

“And Kai?” Yeonjun finally relents. You breathe out in relief at the mention of him.

“He’d be electric,” you decide. “Or normal. Whichever ones are the cutest, really.”

“You wanna know how the concert went for him, don’t you?” he asks.

“No, it’s okay, Jun,” you brush him off. “We can talk about whatever you want.”

“Y/N. It’s cool. I’ve just been messing with you.” You can practically hear him smirking through the phone.

“Oh,” you twiddle your thumbs. “Well, yes, then tell me how he did.”

Yeonjun sucks in a breath. “First off, I don’t want you to get worried.”

“Okay? Why would I be worried?”

Yeonjun hesitates before answering you. “He’s at the hospital right now.” Your stomach drops.

“What?! Is that what you were hiding from me?”

“I knew it would make you upset, Y/N. It’s not a big deal. It’s probably just a sprain, alright?”

“But he’s hurt,” you sigh. “Is that the reason you called me and not him?”

“Can’t I just want to hear my dear friend’s voice and ask how her date went?”

“Mhmm, sure.” You side eye him through the phone, plopping down onto your bed. You’re too tired to change out of your date clothes.

“Okay, fine,” he continues. “Kai did ask me to call you while the doctor checks him out. He knew it would probably be all over social media and didn’t want you to worry.”

“It’s probably my fault he injured himself,” you mutter, kicking off your shoes. “I hope it’s not too bad.”

“Y/N, he’s fine,” Yeonjun assures you. “And how could it possibly be your fault? We aren’t even in the same country right now. The stage was probably just wet because of the rain from earlier.”

“I think I made him upset right before you guys went on stage. He said he missed me and I didn’t say it back, but I think he wanted me to.”

“Hmm, I guess he did seem a little down now that you mention it.”

“Well, tell him I said sorry.” Knowing that he was noticeably off tonight because of you makes you feel horrible. If you had just said it back, he probably could’ve focused on the show better.

“I mean, if you want to wait and tell him yourself, he’ll probably be back any second now.”

“I don’t really feel like talking anymore. Night, Jun. I’ll see you later.” Before Yeonjun can say bye, you’ve already hung up. You’ve never been more confused over your emotions than tonight.

Throwing a pillow over your head, you scream into it. Your love life is in shambles and all you can think about is Huening Kai’s stupid, possibly-sprained ankle.

—————-

When Kai’s plane lands, you’re the first person he wants to see. Before he even left, he made sure that you had a key to the apartment, something Yeonjun was always too lazy to do.

You haven’t brought up the disaster of a date you went on while he was away, and to your relief, he hasn’t asked about it either. It’s almost as if he doesn’t care that it happened.

Getting him to agree to watch the new Mean Girls remake for your weekly movie night was much easier than you expected. You had even prepared a whole speech for why he should relent even though it was supposed to be his choice tonight.

“It’s a musical,” you reasoned. “You’ll like it!”

You were very, very wrong. The movie was horrible, but at least that meant that the two of you could hate-watch it together.

“Those lyrics…” he starts, rubbing his temples as the closing credits played.

“And the costumes!” They were not going to age well.

“That was really bad,” he laughs. “That’s the last time I’m letting you pick when it’s my turn.”

“I have a feeling I’ll still be able to charm you in the future,” you say, batting your eyelashes.

“That is so not fair.” He crosses his arms. “Why are you so cute?”

“It’s my superpower,” you say, grinning. A few months ago, you would’ve never said something like that, but Kai makes you feel so much better about yourself.

The way you’re looking at him makes him blush, and he glances away hoping you haven’t noticed. His gaze focuses on the clock on the wall.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s past two.” Kai says. Time always seems to disappear when you’re together. “Do you want me to walk you home?”

Thunder booms outside the window and you can hear raindrops hitting the roof.

“That might be a bad idea. I can just call a car,” you say, grabbing your phone. He stops you.

“Just stay here,” he offers. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“You can’t sleep on the couch,” you disagree. “Yeonjun will think we’re mad at each other.”

“Well, if we sleep in here together, he’ll probably start planning our wedding.”

“I guess we’re losers in this game, huh?” you say, immediately cringing at the pun. The two of you exchange glances before cracking up.

Kai always takes longer to stop laughing than you. “Okay, how about this. You take the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor,” he says, still giddy.

“But it’s your bed! I can sleep on the floor.”

“I am not letting you sleep on the floor. You’re my guest.”

“This is stupid, Kai. Yeonjun doesn’t know the difference whether one of us sleeps on the floor or in the bed. We might as well just share.”

“But you snore, remember?”

“There’s actually no real evidence to that claim,” you refute.

“Well, it’s a twin sized bed. I might crush you.”

“I don’t need that much space. We can even sleep head to toe, if you want.”

“My feet stink. Your feet stink.” The effort he was going through to not share a bed with you was eating away at you. You’re sure he’s slept with his group mates plenty of times before, so what difference did it make?

“Oh my god! Fine, sleep on the floor.” You throw a pillow and one of his many plushies his way, turning on your side to face the wall. 

“Are you mad at me?” he asks from behind, his voice now quiet and careful. To be honest, you’re not quite sure whether you’re being serious or not.

You turn over to look at him, sitting on the edge of the bed, petting the plushie’s head.

“Kai,” you sit up. “Kai, look, I’m sorry. I’m not mad.”

“I feel like I’m always putting my foot in my mouth when I’m around you.”

“You’re not. I wouldn’t spend so much time with you if I didn’t want to.” You cup his cheek, running your thumb over one of his moles. “I promise.”

Yeonjun isn’t afraid to check you when you’re in the wrong, but Kai is too sweet to deal with any sort of confrontation. It’s something you’ve been having to adjust to lately.

“We can share the bed. I didn’t mean to make it seem like it was a bad thing,” he says. Sometimes you think he can read your mind.

“Okay,” you say, making room for him. He turns off the lamp and climbs in next to you, making sure to leave a big enough gap so he doesn’t touch you. Even in the dark, it’s obvious that he’s lying halfway off the mattress.

“You can come closer,” you say. God forbid he falls onto the floor in the middle of the night and it’s your fault for hogging all of the bed.

He moves inward, your faces so close that your noses are nearly touching. You could probably count his freckles from here.

Sure, every once in a while, you’ll lay your head on his shoulder or he’ll lay his in your lap, but this is much more intimate. Suddenly, your heartbeat feels too fast to fall asleep anymore.

“Y/N,” Kai whispers, although he already has your full attention. You like the way he says your name. His fingers grip your waist under the sheets, bringing you even closer. 

You tremble under his touch, his eyes locked on yours. This is a dangerous game.

In seconds, his mouth is pressed against yours, desperate and hungry. You’ve been kissed by boys before, but never like this. You can’t get enough of him.

You run your fingers through his hair, still soft even after several sessions of bleach. Like that night in the cab, you feel him hard against you, except now it’s intentional. It feels good.

Kai climbs on top of you, finding his way between your legs without breaking the kiss. You wonder how often he’s done this.

“We shouldn’t,” you breathe as he presses kisses along your collarbone, although it’s lost between your heavy sighs.

His hand grazes the waistband of your shorts. Visions of him doing the same with other girls—specifically the one from that morning—pop into your head. Panicking, you pull away from his kiss, using all of your strength to push him off of you.

“Y/N?” he asks, his lips puffy and his brows knitted in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“I have to go,” you say, tugging down the hemline of your t-shirt, which had ridden up during the exchange. You hop off the bed and attempt to find your sneakers in the dark.

“Please don’t go,” he pleads with you, grabbing onto your wrist. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It was stupid.”

You turn back to him, tears welling up in your eyes. “It was stupid?”

“No! That’s not what I meant. I just—I don’t want to do anything that could ruin our friendship. You mean too much to me, Y/N. I shouldn’t have kissed you, no matter how much I wanted to and no matter how good it felt.”

“It felt good?” you say, stepping towards him. It’s a relief to know he at least enjoyed it as much as you did.

“Really good,” Kai admits. “But it shouldn’t have happened. I can’t risk losing you.”

“Right.” It’s a really good point. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

“So… no kissing.”

“No kissing,” you agree.

“Anything else off the table?” He asks this in a way that you can’t tell if he’s flirting with you or not. You decide to take the risk and step closer to him. 

“I think cuddling is fair game. It would be too great a loss to our friendship.” You hold his hand.

“Mhmm, definitely.” He helps you climb back onto the bed before following suit, pressing his chest to your back, enveloping you in his warmth.

“You know, if I had you around in the wintertime, I’d save a lot on my heating bill,” you point out. 

“Go to sleep, silly,” Kai laughs, nuzzling his head into the nook above your shoulder. 

“Fine. Goodnight,” you yawn, your eyelids feeling heavier by the second.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he whispers, although you’re already sound asleep, your soft snores filling the room.

—————-

When you wake up, Kai is gone. He’s left a note on the bedside table that reads: Went to get breakfast. Be back soon :-)

You stumble into the living room, rubbing your eyes as sunlight streams through the balcony doors. Yeonjun sits at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal and watching footage from the group’s latest dance rehearsal.

“Be honest, did you and Huening fuck last night?”

“Good morning to you, too.”

“Come on, Y/N. I heard some suspicious shit when I went to the kitchen to grab water and unless he’s doing some magical switcharoo, you’ve been the only girl around for the last few months.”

“Is this some weird cross examination? Are you going to compare my story to his?” You try not to smile at the notion that Kai has stopped seeing other girls, but it makes you giddy.

“I wish. He wouldn’t tell me anything,” Yeonjun huffs.

“Well, if you must know, we made out for a few minutes. I panicked. He panicked. We both agreed to never do it again. End of story.”

“That’s no fun.”

“It’s not, but it prevents us from doing something we might regret and breaking up the entire friend group.”

“Do you like him like that?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”

“It kind of does, Y/N. I’m pretty sure that boy is head over heels in love with you.”

The thought of Huening Kai being in love with you stops you dead in your tracks. Your Kai, secretly pining for your affection? You decide that it’s nothing more than a fantasy.

“That’s impossible,” you shrug. “It was just a moment of weakness between two friends. Nothing more, okay?”

Before you can discuss this any further, Kai is walking through the front door, coffee and pastries in hand.

“Y/N, you’re awake! I was scared I’d have to get you out of bed myself. Yeonjun was warning me how grumpy you are in the mornings.”

“She’s a monster,” Yeonjun says. You flick him on the side of the head. “Ouchie.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he giggles, unpacking enough doughnuts to feed an army. “I didn’t know which one you wanted, Y/N, so I just tried to pick ones I thought you’d like.” 

“I love honeydew, so you picked well,” you say, taking a bite of one with bright green filling. “Mmm! Where’d you get these?”

“Old Ferry Donut. It’s across town, but totally worth the trip. I go with my sisters all the time. You should come with us next time.”

“Ooh, introducing Y/N to the family. It’s getting serious,” Yeonjun teases. Kai shoots him a dirty look. He takes the hint, grabbing a couple of doughnuts on the way back to his bedroom.

“He can be such a dick sometimes,” Kai sighs.

“Yes, but he’s our dick,” you insist, trying not to let him ruin the moment.

“I suppose that’s true,” he laughs. It always makes you feel good about yourself whenever you manage to cheer him up. Usually, that’s his job with you. “I’d really like for Lea and Hiyyih to meet you, though. I think you’d all get along super well.”

“Then let’s set something up. I’m free all day,” you say, your mouth full of food.

“Really, Y/N?” Kai asks. You nod in agreement and his eyes light up at your enthusiasm. “This is awesome! I’ll text them right now!”

Maybe, just maybe, he really is in love with you.

—————-

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