#in fairness the semester is nearly over

[sealsapocalypticmusic]

I have like 3-4 songs that are written and I just need to finsih arranging + recordin.g. please attack me about this

[shuaflix]

my guardian demon sucks at his job (not clickbait)

❝ look, i accidentally summoned jeonghan from my statistics textbook the day before you met him at the olive garden. ❞

PAIRING ▸ demon!yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, humor, angst, supernatural, demon au

WARNINGS ▸ not so biblically accurate, profanity, slowburn, found family, inspirations from mythology and h. p. lovecraft, lots of banter, alcohol consumption, sexual tension, teasing, dirty talk, oral (fem. receiving), fingering, palming, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), mc is painfully horny, ft. demon!shua and demon!wonwoo 

SUMMARY ▸ just when you thought your luck couldn't get any worse, you accidentally manage to summon an ancient demon prince named jeonghan out of a scrap of paper from your statistics textbook. now, you're tasked with figuring out how to return your so-called "guardian demon" back to where he came from before he can stir up more trouble.

PLAYLIST ▸ our dawn is hotter than day by seventeen • cruel summer by taylor swift

WORD COUNT ▸ 23,610 words

TAG LIST ▸ @byunfirstlady​ @90s-belladonna​ @knucklesdeepmingi​ @xlovette​ @variety-is-the-joy-of-life​ @hatesbutlovespeople7734​ @goquokka​

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i had so much fun writing this so i hope you guys enjoy this one!! thank you so much for supporting my works ♡ lmk what u think!

TO BE FAIR, YOU REALLY DIDN’T EXPECT THE SPELL TO WORK.

You initially thought the scrap of paper you found in your statistics textbook was someone’s torn-up Latin homework. You borrowed the copy from the library earlier in the day, realizing that the only way you would pass your midterm would be if you actually studied. Wedged between the pages of Chapter Three - Linear Regression was the dubious piece of paper.  

You thought nothing of it at first. You turned a blind eye to how it was yellowed due to age, thinking it was just left behind by accident. It didn’t even cross your mind about how strange it was that someone left their Latin homework in a statistics textbook.

There was no real reason why you read the words aloud. You thought it could act as some sort of good luck charm—something that could manifest good grades on your exams—but you ended up with the exact opposite.

The paper started glowing, but it wasn’t bright light; a void of pitch darkness emitted from the scrap instead. Mind you, it was nearly the middle of the night. It was already dark, but your room was starting to look like you had opened up a schism in space.

You dropped the paper in the middle of the room instinctively, hissing lightly at how it nearly froze your fingers off. Your room’s temperature dropped by several degrees, and if you weren’t internally freaking out about the random black hole in the middle of your room, you would have curled up in your blankets.

This was one hell of a karmic retribution for slacking on your work for half the semester.

You could hardly see the paper, but you could see faint smoke coming from the middle of the source. It seeped along your bedroom floor, and you contemplated calling your roommate for help before realizing that you, in fact, had no roommate and lived alone.

From there, the paper seemed to crumple up and dissipate into thin air. Instead, a shadowy figure emerged from the smoke. You were not religious by any means, but you felt like this was probably the best time to start praying to whatever higher power was out there.

Light returned to the room once the darkness and smoke faded away. You could now make out the entity’s figure more clearly, noting how it towered over you with sharp horns sticking out from its tuft of hair. Once you could see well enough to make out its face, you were met with what you thought was a human, though the horns and red eyes were throwing you in for a loop.

Humans often had four different psychological responses to traumatic or stressful experiences:

Fight: facing any perceived threat head-on.

Flight: running away from the perceived threat.

Fawn: resorting to appealing to the perceived threat to avoid potential conflict.

Freeze: being unable to move or act against the perceived threat.

Being the absolute weapon of survival you were, your body chose to freeze.

The thing just stared at you until its mouth stretched into a lazy smirk. “Hey, I’m—”

In seconds, your body moved on its own. As soon as you heard the smallest sound come from the being, you grabbed your backpack that was leaning against your bed frame, and you started swinging at the entity with it.

You chose to fight.

You were no longer useless.

“Ow!” the thing winced, shrinking back with each blow. You were slightly worried about breaking your laptop inside, but you were currently prioritizing your life more. “Cut it out!”

You got a better look at this thing. He was clearly attractive with his strong jawline and dark, sleepy eyes—assuming he was even a dude in the first place. You still kept your guard up around Pretty Boy, though, considering he had just Harry Potter’d his way into your bedroom.

“Who—what are you?” you spluttered, holding your backpack up in a (hopefully) threatening way.

“Me?” Pretty Boy grinned. “I’m your demon.”

What in the Wizards of Waverly Place was this man talking about? You stared blankly at the guy before taking a careful step backward. Of course, there were far too many supernatural elements packed into the last minute for you to completely shut down the idea, but it sounded downright crazy. This was something that only happened in books and movies, and they weren’t supposed to be hot!

“A… a demon? From Hell?”

“Yes, that’s usually where demons tend to be from.”

Great, this “demon” was a smart-ass, too.

“What’s a demon?” you asked. It took you a few moments to realize that you had, in fact, asked an extremely stupid question. Of course you knew what a demon was; you didn’t have to be a religious studies major to know about all the Jesus and Satan lore.

“I’m glad you asked,” said demon started, although he didn’t seem to be glad at all. “There are demons that should be summoned, and there are demons that should not be summoned. Can you guess which one I am?”

“Uh…” You deliberated carefully. “You’re a demon that can be summoned.”

“Wrong!” Pretty Boy answered. “I’m a demon that shouldn’t be summoned, so I need you to explain how on Earth you summoned me.”

“I—I thought you said you were my demon.”

“I am,” he said, “because most demons can only be summoned by their designated human, which you did, but I, of all demons, am not meant to be summoned and trapped in this realm! How in Lucifer’s name did you summon me, human?”

You held up a hand to keep him from charging forward at you. “First of all, my name is Y/N. Shouldn’t you be familiar with your own human’s name? Second of all, what do you mean by ‘designated human’?”

Pretty Boy sighed. “I’m supposed to be your assigned demon.”

You frowned. “Supposed to be?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’ve kind of been neglecting you. Totally forgot your name and everything.” He hummed inquisitively. “Remind me of it again?”

“Y/N,” you repeated carefully, slightly offended. “What the hell is an assigned demon?”

“If I tell you,” he started in a somber tone, and you hung onto every word, worrying at your lip and fearing something dreadful would happen, “then it’s no fun.”

He had to be fucking with you.

“No fun?” you questioned. “Are you kidding?”

“I happen to be very serious,” he answered, “and I’m getting the feeling that you’re a bit of a kill-joy, human.”

“Listen,” you spat, “I have a stats midterm tomorrow, so you better start talking before I get back to studying and ignore you.”

“Fine,” he complied. “Think of it, like… a guardian demon.”

“Damn.” You looked up at him with wide eyes. “If I give you my soul, can you help me pass my midterm?”

“That’s not quite how it works, and I may be a demon, but that’s a pretty stupid request in exchange for your soul,” he deadpanned. “Okay, now tell me how you summoned me.”

Your gaze dropped to the spot on the floor where the black void opened up. You recalled the slip of paper disintegrating into thin air once the demon appeared. You were certain that was the key to this bizarre merging of two realms.

“Uh,” you said, “there was a piece of paper with some Latin written on it. You appeared after I read the words out loud.”

And after turning your room into an arctic tundra.

Pretty Boy’s face fell upon your words. You were shocked that the demon looked so crest-fallen all of a sudden, and it was making you feel a bit guilty for dragging him out of Hell.

You decided to ask, “Are you okay?”

“I am not okay, I am Yoon Jeonghan, one of the seven princes of Hell,” he started angrily, causing you to take a cautious step backward. “I am Greed, the creator of alchemy, forger of the Twin Blade, constructor of the—” The demon cut himself off when you held up a fist to your mouth to keep yourself from laughing. “W-what? What’s so funny, human?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized quickly, accidentally letting a giggle slip from your lips, “but there’s no way some pretty face like you is a demon prince.”

“I emerged from an opening in the ground, and you still refuse to believe I’m a demon?”

“Well—”

“Human, do you know why a ‘pretty face’ like me is a demon prince?” Pretty Demon Boy a.k.a Jeonghan inquired, stepping closer until you were backed up against your desk. “The King of all demons himself was once considered the most beautiful of all angels. Why?” With three fingers, he tilted your chin up enough for you to take a good look at him—at the swirling dark red in his eyes. “Because demons represent temptation.”

“Temptation,” you echoed, embarrassed that your voice came out more strangled than intended. “Yeah, well, I’m really tempted to kick your ass back to Hell right now.”

You supposed he was onto something, in a sense. Maybe Jeonghan was telling the truth because you couldn’t focus on anything else but how his lips were nearing yours. It was as if your senses had completely clouded over.

Upon your words, however, he dropped his gaze and pulled away from you. Jeonghan looked saddened, which was a sight you had not expected from the smug-faced demon. You weren’t educated on demon lore or anything, but you were quite surprised that they were capable of feeling such human emotions.

“There are ways demons can be summoned,” he said in a somber voice. “If we are summoned by our names, then we can appear and promptly return to Hell. Incantations, though, are tricky; with negligence, there is a possibility that I’m stuck here.”

“Stuck here?” you asked, raising your voice. “What do you mean? You can’t go back?”

“Well, do you remember the words on that piece of paper?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t have a way of going back, dumbass.”

You huffed. “I didn’t know a demon prince could have the vocabulary of a middle school boy.”

“We can speak any language on this planet and adapt to modern slang,” he explained. “I can also speak dolphin. Wanna hear?”

“No, let’s circle back to getting you back to Hell,” you shut him down before he started using echolocation. “There has to be some other way, right?”

“We have a few options, actually,” he said, sitting on the edge of your bed. You cringed at the thought of the intruder making himself at home, but you supposed you were the one who got him in this mess, anyway. It wouldn’t be smart for you to boss him around, especially since he could overtake you easily. “Either you remember the incantation, or… actually, I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

“So, we only have one option?” you clarified. “I have the memory of a goldfish, so I think you’re fucked.” You scratched your neck in thought. “Can’t you call one of your demon buddies to bring you back?”

“Demon buddies?” He laughed coldly. “We aren’t exactly buddy-buddy down there.”

“Then why do you wanna go back so bad?”

“This materialized human form of mine will not last me very long,” he replied gravely, though you weren’t quite convinced the horns and red eyes were doing him any favors. “Normally, I could be up here for as long as I want, but my powers are weak right now. I will eventually perish like this, unless…”

“Unless?”

“Unless I kill an angel.”

After your morbid conversation with Jeonghan, you decided you would deal with the issue after your midterm. The demon insisted that he would not be able to leave your side since you summoned him, so that led to him sleeping on your floor. To your horror, he was pleasantly satisfied with this sleeping arrangement, claiming it was “better than being boiled alive in oil.”

His bedroom in Hell didn’t sound very cozy.

The next morning, you woke to an email notification that your midterm had been canceled. Something about your professor falling sick out of nowhere.

You wanted to rejoice, but you couldn’t help but feel that this was because of Jeonghan. This was probably the whole “guardian demon” thing, but he was causing chaos and disorder to get you what you wanted. It left an uneasy feeling, but, regardless, you were satisfied with not taking an exam.

Anyway, why was Jeonghan, self-proclaimed prince of demons, assigned to be your guardian? When you turned in your bed to see him sitting at your desk and staring at your textbook, you asked him the question that was bugging you.

He scoffed and replied, “I don’t know. Luck?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Is it really lucky that a demon prince was assigned to me? Sounds a little unnerving.”

“That just means you have a powerful demon on your side.” He smirked and leaned in to ask, “Were you happy to see your midterm canceled this morning?”

“So it was you!” you exclaimed. “Look, I appreciate it and everything, but you can’t just make people sick to help me out.”

“I can’t?” He looked surprisingly innocent when you reprimanded him, like a seven-year-old being told not to color on the walls. “I didn’t even murder him or anything.”

“That—that’s also pretty bad,” you stammered. “Let’s not do any of that, okay?”

“But that’s no fun.”

“This isn’t about having fun! These are people’s lives. How would you feel if I harmed one of the other demon princes for fun?”

“That’s hot. I’d probably cum in my pants.”

“Okay, maybe that was a bad example,” you grumbled. “Is there anyone you care about down there?”

“Not down there, not up here,” he replied. “I’m a demon, remember? There’s no one who cares for me, so I don’t care for anyone either.”

“Wow,” you said. “You could be the poster boy for 2012 Tumblr angst.”

“I’ll pretend I understood that, human.”

There was something bothering you, though. Jeonghan’s words last night about killing an angel were parroting in your head. You couldn’t shake off the guilt that he could potentially die on Earth because of you, but it felt immoral to kill an angel to return to his prison in Hell. On the other hand, you couldn’t bear to see him perish because of you.

“How long do you have?” you asked. “You know… to live.”

“Hm… I’d say about 718 years?”

“Oh, what the fuck? You’re chilling.”

“In Hell time.”

You frowned. “How long is that in Earth years?”

Jeonghan’s gaze flew to the ceiling as he tried to calculate the math in his head, using his fingers to count off. “That’s about half an Earth year, so, like, six months.”

“Oh no,” you replied in absolute dread, “and you’re still planning on killing an angel?”

“If that’s the only way to save me—yes.”

“Well, how do you even find one?”

“I can sense their presence,” he said before standing up. “Come on, human. You’ll have to show me around your world so that I can remember the mortal way of life.”

“I guess, but first”—you stopped him by raising your hand—“you’ll have to get rid of those horns.”

Once Jeonghan concealed his horns and changed his eyes to a more socially acceptable color, you gave him the green light to go outside. He looked good like this, but he was attracting too much attention. The demon simply had too big of an ego to tone down the attractiveness, so you were stuck walking around with a chick magnet.

“You’re a demon,” you whispered harshly. “You’re telling me you don’t have any ugly forms?”

Jeonghan sighed. “That is the unfortunate curse of a demon. We can’t help that our beauty is so blinding.”

You wanted to punch him. The boiling oil prison bed wasn’t a curse, but this was?

“Well, people are staring, and it’s making me uncomfortable. I’ve never been the center of attention—or, well, around the center of attention.”

“Then would you like me to gouge out their eyeballs with a dagger?”

“No!” you yelled. “No, there will be no gouging of eyeballs!”

You started going off on your Murder Is Normally Socially Unacceptable And Wrong tangent up until you realized that Jeonghan was no longer next to you. Fear shot up your spine right before you spotted him standing in front of an Olive Garden that you two had walked past earlier.

“Jeonghan, what are you doing?” you asked, frowning. “Let’s keep walking.”

“Human,” he said, clearly ignoring your words, “take me into this restaurant.”

“You’re hungry?” When he nodded, you sighed and complied, saying, “Alright, then, I’ll pay.”

You were worried that the demon wouldn’t behave properly, but, to your surprise, he stood to the side and let you do the talking. You found his shy smile strangely endearing, especially when he tilted his head after the waitress asked if you two were a couple.

“Yes,” he answered before you could shut it down. “We’ve come in a pair.”

You forced a laugh, glancing at the waitress to make sure she didn’t think you two were absolute nutjobs. Well, you supposed it had no effect on you if your psychotic demon was perceived as one, but you were 100% normal across the board. Thankfully, the waitress laughed it off and asked if either of you wanted anything to drink.

You smiled. “Just water, please.”

“Do you have any blood?” Jeonghan asked at the same time.

Your head shot up to see his furrowed brows as he tried to decipher the Italian dishes on the menu. At this point, you were mortified and could positively say that you were not taking Jeonghan outside after this. You’d rather be stuck in his boiling oil prison than be put through this torment.

“B-Bloody Mary?” the waitress asked.

“Oh, is this Mary providing the blood? I don’t really care to know who exactly she is, but I appreciate the—”

“Yeah, he meant a Bloody Mary,” you cut in loudly, putting on a sugary sweet smile for her. You turned to the demon with a warning look in your eyes, but you kept up the playful act as you chided, “Jeonghan! I told you to quit with the pranks here!”

“Oh, you two are so funny,” the waitress gushed. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

“Thank you!” you chirped. When she was out of sight, you dropped your fake smile so you could kick the living crap out of the demon’s shin. He winced and raised a brow at you. “What made you think you could ask for blood at a restaurant?”

Jeonghan scoffed. “I’m a demon.”

“Oh, really? I wouldn’t have guessed from the hundred times you’ve mentioned it.”

“I can’t eat this food.” Jeonghan put the menu down and ran his fingers down the list of options. “Well, I suppose I could stomach it for sustenance, but it won’t satisfy my hunger.”

“Then what do you need to eat?” you asked, expecting to hear something morbid.

“Well, human blood or flesh would help,” he said. Just as you thought—morbid. Then, after a moment of thought, he added, “or… I’d need to have sex.”

“S-sex?!” you exclaimed. You tried not to choke on air, which failed about five seconds later. Never in your life did you expect hellbound demons to be so lecherous. Well, it made perfect sense, but it was still odd to think about. “You’re telling me the only way you can be fed is by cannibalism or sex?”

“Cannibalism is a strong word.”

“Cannibalism is the only word for people who eat other people!”

“I’m not a person,” he defended. “I’m a demon. I believe you humans call this ‘the food cycle,’ am I right?”

You leaned back in your seat to groan into your hands. “I guess we’re just gonna have to find a way to get you back before you get too hungry. How long can you go without food?”

“Probably forever if I was in Hell,” Jeonghan said, “but I feel really hungry.”

“Is this some ulterior motive to get into my pants?”

Jeonghan barked out a laugh. “Human, do you know who the Seven Deadly Sins are?”

“Sort of? I’ve seen the anime.”

“They’re the seven human vices, and I’m Greed,” he explained. “Other than me, there’s Lust, Wrath, Envy, Sloth, Gluttony, and Pride. Many say that Pride is the worst of them all, but I am destructive at every level. Greed is what breaks a person down and then brings them to destroy the world around them.”

His voice was pitched deeper when he continued, “Greed is the sin that can never be satisifed.”

“O-okay,” you said carefully, “so why are you telling me this?”

“I’m telling you this because you’re pretty naive for someone who summoned a demon as powerful as I am,” he replied calmly. “I’m Greed, so of course that was an ulterior motive to get into your pants.”

Oh.

Awkward.

You weren’t sure if you were blushing because Jeonghan was hot or because no man had ever been so direct with you. For what it was worth, you were positive that the warm feeling in your chest wasn’t because you were flattered or anything. Being asked for sex in the middle of a restaurant wasn’t hot in the slightest bit, and especially after he proceeded to mansplain how he was a manipulative, conniving bastard.

“Don’t feel pressured,” he said.

Although those were the words that came out of his mouth, you could feel the impatience seeping from him. However, it had you thinking that this could become some sort of transaction. You would surely feel used if you let him get what he wanted so easily, but you would definitely be swayed if there was something in it for you. Plus, Jeonghan was unmistakably attractive, which was probably simply the devil’s temptation getting to you.

“If I let you satisfy your hunger… um, sexually,” you started, “then I want something in return.”

A mischievous glint flashed in his dark eyes. “Oh? You’re making things fun, human.”

You felt something hot roiling deep inside your core, making you nearly lose your breath for a moment. The effect he had on you was otherworldly. (You supposed this checked out considering he himself was otherworldly.)

Before you could lay down your guidelines, a voice called from behind, “Sorry, your previous waitress had something come up, so I’ll be taking your orders for your meal. My name’s—whoa, Y/N?”

Your eyes widened. “Seokmin! Oh my god, you work here?”

“Yeah, I do,” he said, laughing lightly at your surprise. “Is this your, uh, boyfriend?”

You met Jeonghan’s stare with an awkward smile. “N-no, we’re just friends.”

Seokmin beamed at the demon, who, to your dismay, made no effort to reciprocate. “Nice to meet you. I was in one of Y/N’s classes last semester. Where are you from?”

Jeonghan reached out to shake the hand that Seokmin held out. You knew he was blunt, but you really didn’t expect him to respond by saying, “Hell.”

You were stabbing metaphysical pitchforks into Jeonghan’s side, fighting the urge to groan into your hands. Seokmin let out a stilted laugh, pausing for a moment to give Jeonghan time to clarify. When the demon didn't, however, Seokmin probably determined that Jeonghan was messing with him.

“You’re funny,” he praised with a grin. “Anyway, can I get you two started on anything?”

Seokmin had the brightest smile you had ever seen. In fact, he seemed to glow brighter just by showing his teeth. You were almost blown away for a moment, just looking up at him and trying not to stumble over your words as he set your drinks down.

“Um,” you started after regaining your composure, “I’ll take the stuffed ziti fritta, please.”

Seokmin turned to Jeonghan, who nodded in your direction with a distracted look on his face. “Yeah, I’ll get the same.”

“Great! I’ll bring those over soon.” With that, Seokmin took both of your menus and walked off.

You smiled to yourself. “What a small world.”

“I have to kill him,” Jeonghan muttered at the same time.

“Excuse me?” you nearly cried. “Jeonghan, are you crazy? You can’t just say things like that in public!”

“Why not?”

“People are gonna think you’re a homicidal maniac! Which you are, but… at least pretend to be normal.”

“Whatever, we’re alone now.” He rolled his eyes. “Your little friend has angel blood in him.”

“What? You’re crazy.”

But then, when you took a moment to consider his words, the lines were starting to draw themselves. It was starting to make sense in your head, with Jeonghan randomly stopping in the middle of the street, as if he was drawn to the restaurant. There was also Seokmin, who almost had an aura of light radiating from him.

Of course, there was the possibility that the demon was speaking nonsense and trying to get in your head. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for him to deceive you, but there was no reason for him to lie. Jeonghan needed an angel to live longer, so he wouldn’t waste his time dealing with those who weren’t of use.

You asked, “How can you tell if he’s an angel or not?”

“I’m a demon. I can sense these things,” he answered, “but I’m sure you can see some of it, too. You saw how he glowed a bit? Maybe even made you feel a little happy out of nowhere?”

It was true that Seokmin’s smile made you forget all of your worries for a second. You thought his radiance was just contagious, but this sort of made sense now that you were semi-familiar with the supernatural. If angels were able to make people feel contented, though, did that mean demons had the opposite effect?

That could probably explain why Jeonghan got on your nerves so easily.

You leaned over the table a little, whispering, “Wouldn’t he know what you are, then?”

“Doubt he knows it himself. He’s a Quartarion—quarter angel. I bet he doesn’t even know he has wings.”

“So… you can’t use him, right? You need an angel, and he’s mostly human.”

“No, I could kill him, actually,” he replied. “I just need to kill an angel-blood. In fact, killing a Quartarion instead of a pure-blood would make my job a lot easier.”

You felt trapped. It wasn’t like you were in any position to argue about Jeonghan’s decisions, considering it was your fault he was in this state. However, you felt sick to your stomach over getting blood on your hands because of him. Even if you weren’t the one killing Seokmin, it was indirectly your fault.

“You are not killing him,” you said firmly.

“What?” Jeonghan almost sounded like a child. “Not even a little?”

“You can’t kill someone a little.”

“Well, maybe if I sliced his—”

“Okay! Be normal, be normal, be normal,” you chanted, trying to get him to hone in some morals. “No murder, no cannibalism, no—”

“Two stuffed ziti frittas!” Seokmin chirped, shutting you up effectively. You swallowed thickly as he set the plates down in front of you and Jeonghan. “Can I get you two anything else?”

“Yeah, actually,” Jeonghan spoke up, a sly grin spreading across his face, “are you free this week?”

Poor, poor Seokmin, you thought miserably.

Jeonghan managed to sweet-talk Seokmin into hanging out with you two later in the week. The very idea was absurd, considering you and Seokmin have only spoken about five times. You thought the demon used some sort of demon power to get Seokmin to comply, but Jeonghan later told you that he was just naturally charismatic.

You decided to deal with the Seokmin issue later, though. Now, you had another problem at hand: the proposal you initiated earlier.

Currently, Jeonghan had you pinned up against your door, his head dipping low so that he could look into your eyes despite your efforts to avert your gaze. Jesus, you knew this was a terrible idea, but every nerve in your body was telling you to just go with it.

He hummed. “What was your offer?”

“This isn’t very guardian demon of you,” you squeaked out.

“I just can’t kill you,” he said. “Sex is still on the table.”

This piqued your interest. “Wait… you’re not allowed to kill me?”

That just made you feel like he would’ve murdered you already if he had the chance.

“I could try, but I physically can’t harm you. I can harm others for you, though,” he said. “Now let’s go back to that offer you were going to make.”

“Let me clarify,” he continued, “it’s not the act of intercourse that feeds me, it’s your taste.”

He was basically saying that he needed to eat you out. You would be lying if you said you were opposed to the idea. You weren’t sure if it was the whole devil’s temptation thing or whatever, but you found yourself wanting to just let Jeonghan have his way with you.

You sucked in a sharp breath. Back at the restaurant, you weren’t ready to lay down any guidelines for the exchange. However, it was clear to you now.

“I’ll agree as long as you don’t kill Seokmin.”

The demon pulled away from you, frowning. “Why can’t I kill him?”

“He’s my… friend,” you tried.

“He appears to share a deeper connection with me, a complete stranger, than he does with you, an established acquaintance.”

Okay, ouch. That stung.

“Okay, he’s not really my friend,” you admitted, “but it’ll make me feel really guilty if you kill him. I know you need to kill an angel-blood to get back, but there has to be another way, right?”

Jeonghan’s voice was pitched lower when he said, “I don’t know about that.” Silence hung heavy in the air for a few moments before he spoke up again, “Fine. I’ll accept your offer. I won’t kill Seokmin for now, but I can’t promise that in the future if I’m left with no other choice.”

That was probably the best you were going to get out of him, so you nodded in agreement. “Deal.”

Before the demon could reply, you shimmied down your shorts, kicking them off your ankles, and then you sat back on your bed. You pressed your thighs together, waiting for him to come forward and take the lead.

Jeonghan just stared at you, jaw gone slack.

“What?” you asked with a frown. Slowly, embarrassment started to heat up your cheeks. “You don’t wanna do it anymore?”

“Human, I feel a bit strange doing this with the stuffed animals lined up on your bed.”

“I just had to convince you not to murder my classmate a minute ago, and you draw the line at this?” You sighed in exasperation. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Jeonghan just moved closer until he was right in front of you. He pushed your legs apart, surprisingly gentle, and he reached his hand between your legs so that he could prod at the thin material of your underwear at the apex of your legs. You shivered instantly at his touch, grabbing his sleeve when you felt your core ache for more.

“I don’t know,” he murmured, observing how wet you were getting with his gentle touches. “You seem to enjoy bickering with me a little too much, human.”

“T-that’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” The question sounded genuine, but the smirk on Jeonghan’s face was unmistakable. You swallowed hard as his free hand traveled up your thigh slowly, inching further and further until he tugged your underwear down past your thighs. You kicked it off your ankles while he started to position you properly on your bed. “What’s ridiculous is having these adorable playthings watching us.”

You turned your head to see your Sanrio MyMelody Squishmallow staring at you with its big, empty eyes and mocking smile. It almost felt like you were being judged by your own plushie.

Okay, you were starting to get why it was capable of freaking a demon out.

You propped yourself up on your forearm and rose up enough to grab your Squishmallow by its bow and turn it around. Now that it was facing the wall, you strangely felt more at ease.

“Okay, now you can go,” you said with a grin.

Jeonghan scoffed, amused. “Thanks.”

“You’re wel—oh,” you moaned, pressing a fist to your mouth when you felt Jeonghan’s tongue work its way between your folds. “Give me a warning next time, damn.”

He paused for a moment to look up at you, mischief twinkling in his dark eyes. “You’re already thinking about the next time, huh?”

“Just shut up and keep doing your thing.” When he raised a brow at you, you added a frantic, “Please?”

This moment may have been the first time Jeonghan had complied so quickly. He got to work right away, gripping your hips and licking a stripe along your cunt. You arched your back once you heard him groan at the taste of your arousal, and the demon had to push you back down to make sure you weren’t fidgeting too much.

You turned your head to the side, digging your chin into the mattress as Jeonghan’s tongue rolled around your clit in torturous motions. You were fighting the urge to cry out in pleasure because you knew you would never hear the end of it from him. Eventually, though, the feeling overtook your pride, and you let yourself moan for more.

Jeonghan was insatiable. That probably came with being a demon, especially when he represented the sin of greed.

But, the thing was, you didn’t expect him to be so mind-blowingly good.

Your sounds must have spurred him because Jeonghan gripped your thighs harder and ate you out with more fervor. It was a back-arching level of pleasure, but he forced you down every time you tried to squirm. When his tongue snaked past your folds, flicking against the walls of your cunt, you truly understood the sheer power of temptation.

Jeonghan didn’t neglect one inch of your core, flattening his tongue so he could cover the surface completely. He switched from plunging his tongue into your cunt to licking long stripes along your slit so quickly that your vision was starting to curl at the edges. You felt like you were going crazy when you grinded your hips against his tongue and felt his smirk.

No man had ever made you feel this good—no, you were positive that no man could ever make you feel this good. Even Jeonghan’s nose brushing against your clit made you feel like you were combusting.

He brought you to the edge so quickly, and you wondered if you had even made yourself orgasm so fast before. The sensation left your legs shaking around his neck and your head turned to the side in a desperate attempt to hold back your moans. You managed to let out strangled whimpers that left Jeonghan chuckling once he pulled away.

You didn’t know what you were expecting, but you felt a touch disappointed when you looked up at him. There was absolutely no hint of a boner tenting his pants.

“I’d ask,” Jeonghan started with a smirk, “but I can already tell you liked it by the way you were moaning for me.”

You raised yourself onto your elbows, huffing a little. “What about you? Are your powers back now?”

“It doesn’t exactly work like that.” Jeonghan patted his stomach, satisfied. “I’m full, though.”

“Interesting.” You left it there, not wanting to divulge further into his demon diet. “So, you don’t ever have sex for pleasure? Just when you’re hungry?”

“I don’t care for pleasure all that much.”

“Figured,” you mumbled. “Anyway, I’m going to sleep.”

“Already?”

“Yeah, I’m tired. Wake me up in a few hours if I’m not already up.”

“Sure. I’ll go do human things and not kill people.”

“Keep up the good work.”

When Jeonghan left your room, you pulled the covers up to your chin and let out a long sigh. The feeling was fleeting, but long enough for you to take notice. A gentle quickening of your heartbeat and a warm feeling in your chest.

You pushed it down as a brief moment of confusion.

Living with Jeonghan felt like having a guard dog that you kept off its leash.

Not only did you have to stop him from attempting murder on several occasions, but, on the flip side, you also had to warn him about being too nice to make up for his twisted imagination. Jeonghan was far too attractive to be human, and from the numerous times you went outside with him, you realized that he drew too much attention. You were left standing to the side idly while he was chatted up by the umpteenth random girl that wanted his number.

Over the past week, you ended up explaining a lot of things to the demon. Going into depth about the criminal justice system was your favorite because Jeonghan looked flabbergasted by the levels of punishment they had.

(“A six month sentence for theft?” he asked with a frown. “That’s absurd. I got eternity in Hell while being boiled alive in oil!”

“Well, what was your crime?” you asked.

“Uh…”)

Once, you even found him staring at the TV screen with a somber expression on his face. You had never seen Jeonghan so visibly upset, so you asked him what was going on, only to be even more confused when he explained that his pet died. You suspected the demon’s pet to be a hellhound or something. Never did you expect him to pull up a picture of Mount Fuji.

(“His name was Doljjong,” he explained sadly. “He was only 1,359 years old when he erupted for the last time.”

Apparently, Mount Fuji was now extinct. In Jeonghan’s crazy demon lingo, that meant it died.

“You basically had a pet rock, dude.”

“He was more than a rock in my heart.”)

You also had to adjust to living with another man in the house. Thankfully, Jeonghan wasn’t messy or as disgusting as you had expected, but you still had to adjust to some of his living habits that took you by surprise.

For one, Jeonghan preferred showering in scorching hot water. This would not bother you if you hadn’t been dragged into the shower with him on one occasion, which he didn’t seem to think was improper at all. While you were trying not to look at his (beautifully-chiseled) naked body, he was urging you to help him turn down the cold water. As soon as your skin made contact with the water, though, you couldn’t stand the scalding heat.

Strangely enough, although the thought of having a demon in your house terrified you, it was kind of fun to live with him. You liked having someone around that could keep up with your antics, someone who challenged your thirst for argument. Jeonghan was the perfect match for you, and maybe that was why he was your assigned demon.

You finally decided to give him your old phone. It was supposed to be a hand-me-down for your younger brother, but your parents ended up getting him a new one. Since Jeonghan was pretty much ancient, you figured he wouldn’t mind an old phone.

“I want an iPhone 14 Pro Max.”

“What?!” you exclaimed as he took the used iPhone 8 from you, inspecting the home button with a frown. “How do you even know what that is?”

“I wasn’t born yesterday, human.” He scoffed. “I don’t care for outdated possessions.”

Oh, right. Greed.

“Well, if you’re gonna live in my house, then you’re gonna learn to be grateful for what you’ve got.”

“Wait.” Jeonghan paused, looking between you and the phone about three times before he asked, “Can I contact Seokmin with this?”

“Uh, yeah, but—”

“Give me his number,” the demon insisted.

“Jeonghan! You said you weren’t going to kill him!”

“I never said I was going to kill him,” he said, “but I did invite him to hang out, so I should follow up on the offer. Didn’t you tell me that keeping promises is important?”

Ah, right. He was using one of the rules from Y/N’s Guide To Being Human against you. You saw this coming, though; you were no stranger to Jeonghan’s manipulation tactics by now.

“Keeping promises are important, but leading someone on is also wrong,” you chided. “Do not text him if you plan on hurting him in any way.”

He let out a petulant whine before agreeing, “Okay, okay, I won’t.” He thrusted the phone in your direction. “Give me his number, though.”

You bit your lip before you complied. “Fine.”

A few days later, when you had just gotten back from getting lunch with your best friend, Park Sooyoung, you entered your apartment to see Seokmin sitting on the couch.

“Oh!” you exclaimed. You were so startled that you couldn’t even process how furious you were with Jeonghan for inviting him without informing you. “Hey, Seokmin. What’re you doing here?”

The older boy flashed a kind smile. “Sorry to intrude. Jeonghan invited me. I think he’s in the bathroom right now.” He pointed in the direction of where Jeonghan went, and then he said, “I had no idea you two were roommates!”

You recalled last week when you asked Jeonghan if demons had to use the bathroom like humans did. For some reason, you couldn’t imagine it at all. The demon answered that he didn’t have to do such things in his own dimension, but his body was subjected to the same biological system as humans on Earth.

“Ah, yes. Roommates.” You forced a laugh, trying to not sound bitter. So that was the narrative Jeonghan cooked up. Honestly, you were just glad he said something normal. “He didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

“Ah, speak of the devil,” Seokmin said.

Meanwhile, it was just Jeonghan. Well, on second thought, he was kind of right.

“What’re you doing at home?” the demon asked, sounding more accusatory than welcoming. “I thought you were getting lunch with your friend.”

“And we finished lunch,” you answered. “What’re you and Seokmin doing?”

“We were gonna watch a movie,” he said. “The Notebook, I think?”

Your anger fizzled. Now, you felt like you were interrupting something.

“Do you wanna watch it with us, Y/N?” Seokmin asked, voice all sugary and light.

You found it way too hard to refuse him, so you sat down on the couch next to Jeonghan. Every time Seokmin spoke, you felt your nerves ease up. However, coupled with Jeonghan’s presence, you were undergoing a never-ending state of easing and tensing up again.

“By the way, why’d you guys pick The Notebook?” you inquired.

“Oh, ‘cause Jeonghan hasn’t seen it yet,” Seokmin replied, looking distracted as the film started playing.

Jeonghan hadn’t seen a lot of movies. It wasn’t like there were limited options to choose from.

Thankfully, the lights were off while the movie played, masking how bored you looked for its duration. You were convinced Jeonghan wasn’t enjoying it either considering he started up about ten different conversations unrelated to the movie. Seokmin, being the sweetheart he was, responded to him enthusiastically as he watched. You, on the other hand, were sulking on the other side of the couch and praying for this to be over because you felt like a third wheel.

You almost didn’t notice the mood shift when the kissing scene came up. Seokmin seemed to feel a bit awkward, so he laughed and made lighthearted remarks throughout the scene. You had stiffened up and lowered your gaze, remembering once again why this was an odd choice for a movie night.

Jeonghan, though, turned his gaze to you for the duration of the scene. You could feel his eyes drift to your lips, and it made you hyperconscious of every little movement of his. Your heart was pounding so loudly that you were praying no one else could hear it, and the blood rushing in your ears drowned out the audio from the movie.

The demon dipped his head to whisper in your ear, “Frankly, human, I’m enjoying your reactions more than this movie.”

You had no idea why, but you felt something unsettling in your chest. Your heart felt like it was going a hundred miles a minute, but not in a good way; the organ twisted painfully in your chest.

You had no idea why.

Seokmin came around a few more times over the next four weeks. You found yourself feeling less like a third wheel over time, and you were finally comfortable hanging around the both of them. Movie nights became more common, although The Notebook seemed to be so traumatizing that Seokmin and Jeonghan only watched horror and sci-fi movies now.

You were honestly surprised that Jeonghan hadn’t made any moves to kill Seokmin, but you were happy that he honored your agreement. The two of you had gotten closer—or, well, as close as a demon and a human could get. He still called you “human,” but you were banking on him calling you by your name at least once. Moreover, Jeonghan wasn’t completely convincing just yet, but he was starting to learn how to act like a proper human. (There were the occasional murder threats that you had to fend off, though.)

Jeonghan found himself between your legs nearly every other day. You feared that you would get too comfortable, but he still made you orgasm every single time. It was strange, to say the least. You knew demons weren’t capable of feeling anything remotely romantic, but your heart was still acting like a fool, twisting painfully whenever he pulled away.

Today, Jeonghan had followed you to the library. He met your friend, Sooyoung, who kept gushing earlier about how she was dying to meet your new “friend.” The rest of the day went smoothly, save for Sooyoung asking you and Jeonghan if you’ve ever made out. (You shut her up with a smack upside her head.)

Back at home, Jeonghan, who was sitting on the floor with his back against the couch, leaned his head back to look up at you. You found it strangely endearing, resisting the urge to run your hands through his soft hair.

“Did I do good today?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said, “you were like a proper human—no weird demonic antics or anything.”

Jeonghan lifted his head up again, and then asked in a quiet voice, “Human, could I perhaps try something?”

The demon was asking you for permission? Strange, but you went along with it.

“Hm? What is it?”

“Let me try kissing you,” he said. His words were so clear that you couldn’t even pass them off as something you misheard. You only managed to let out a few incoherent stammers before he added, “Move your laptop. I’m getting on top of you.”

“Y-you didn’t even ask me!” you stuttered, although you were putting your stuff to the side as you spoke. “Is this about what Sooyoung asked? About if we’ve made out?”

“I’m asking you right now: yes or no?”

You frowned. It was as if all your nerves were cut wire, electrifying every limb in your body. Even though you couldn’t comprehend what came over Jeonghan and what possessed him to ask, your brain was screaming at you to just accept his offer.

“Fine, go ahead,” you murmured, feeling your face go hot when he smirked right after.

“Good,” he said. “Thank you for being my experiment.”

You couldn’t ask any further questions because Jeonghan already started moving on top of you, straddling your lap and placing his hands firmly on either side of your face. You stared up at him, wide-eyed, until he leaned down and brushed his nose against yours experimentally.

He was so close. So close that you could feel his hot breath fanning your lips. So close that you could see the gold flecks in his dark eyes.

You shuddered. There was that twist of your heart once again.

You swore you could hear his breath hitch, and you almost called it out before a crevice started opening up in the center of your living room.

“What the fuck?” you shrieked, scrambling back against the arm of the couch and holding up one of the throw pillows to defend yourself. Jeonghan had gotten off of you and stood up, eyebrows knitted into a frown. It looked like he knew what was going on, so you asked, “What is it, Jeonghan?”

It was the same void of darkness from before—the same one that Jeonghan came from. The room was freezing this time, too, and the windows had iced over. You swallowed hard, wondering if this was one of your mistakes again. You hadn’t said or done anything this time, though, so it must have been someone here for Jeonghan.

From the wisps of smoke emerged the most beautiful man you had ever seen. Or, well, second after Jeonghan.

“Mammon, you bastard.” Second-Most Beautiful Man scowled. “If this is one of your conniving plots to escape Hell, then you will face punishment worse than being boiled alive for damnation.”

You looked to your right to see Jeonghan with his arms folded across his chest. Smiling.

“Asmodeus,” your demon greeted with coldness in his tone, “you planted that scrap of paper in my human’s book, didn’t you?”

Asmodeus’ glower slowly morphed into a wicked grin. “You don’t leave any room for entertainment, do you? I came here to drag you back, anyway, so don’t be so bitter.” His red, beady eyes shifted to you. “This must be your precious human.”

Jeonghan’s voice was deeper when he warned, “Don’t you dare lay a finger on her, Asmodeus.”

“Or what?” he mocked. “What could you possibly do to me in that pathetic human body of yours? Have you gone soft already? Your powers have weakened, Mammon. Face it. You’ll die out here—no, you’re already dying.”

“What do you want?” Jeonghan snapped. “If you want me dead, then you have no need to be here.”

“I need you alive,” Asmodeus muttered, “in your true form.”

He scoffed. “I’ll just die and be reborn.”

Reborn? You straightened up at Jeonghan’s words. Why didn’t he tell you he would be reborn? Here you were, like an idiot, worrying over his possible death.

“The other five princes are requesting to see you, so—”

“Oh, why should I give a damn about the other princes?” Jeognhan fussed. “They only care about using me for their trivial schemes!”

“Jeonghan,” you spoke up loudly, and both of the demon princes turned to you with shocked looks on their faces. “If I’m interpreting this correctly… then aren’t you being offered an easy way to get back? You should take it, right?”

“Human—”

“Oh, I forgot you go by your human name here,” Asmodeus said with a chuckle. He walked toward you and reached his hand out, smiling so wide that his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. You can call me Joshua, if that’s easier. I’m the demon prince of lust.”

“How do you know my name?” you asked, cautiously shaking his hand. You looked toward Jeonghan with a scowl. “Wait, how does he know my name and you didn’t?”

“My bad.”

“You’ve truly gone soft, Mammon,” Asmodeus observed. “You’re on Earth entertaining a human girl instead of doing your job back in Hell. Aren’t you the one who told the rest of us to be happy with what we’ve got in Hell?”

“My job,” Jeonghan corrected, “is rotting in Hell. My other job is taking care of my human.”

“Your allegiance is with the princes, Mammon,” Joshua hissed. “This human is insignificant—”

“Do not speak about my human with that filthy mouth of yours, Asmodeus,” Jeonghan interrupted sharply, his eyes darkening. “Tell me what you want from me and leave this place at once.”

“Pythius wants a seat with the Seven Princes.”

Jeonghan raised a brow. “He wants to rebrand to the Eight Princes? Doesn’t have as nice of a ring to it.”

“No, you idiot.” Joshua groaned. “He wants to overthrow one of the Seven Princes, which is why you need to come back. Greed must have a seat at the throne room of sins.”

“Tell him to go ahead. He can be boiled alive in my place.”

“You’re still on that? That was eons ago.” Joshua sighed. “Don’t be a fool, Mammon. If you die on Earth—sure, you’ll be reborn in Hell again, but you will still waste your time by dying on this planet.” He continued, “Think about how disastrous the situation would be if Pythius actually takes your place. You will be stripped of your title, your powers will weaken, and greed will no longer be one of the Seven Deadly Sins.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad, honestly.”

“Mammon,” Joshua growled. “Take this seriously. You’re acting like Belphegor with that flippant attitude of yours.”

“Ah, Belphegor.” Jeonghan turned to you with a light laugh. “I think you’d like him. He goes by Wonwoo here. Seriously, such a—”

“I will slice up each limb of that mortal body of yours, Mammon,” Joshua warned. “You’re not understanding the severity of this situation.”

“I understand it well enough now,” he replied. “So, you can leave. I’ll figure out what to do on my own. Either way, Mammon will be reborn as usual. Happy? Good, now get lost.”

Joshua sighed, frustrated. “Do you even have a way to get back, you fool?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“Then I’ll be on my way,” Joshua said before his body started to tessellate out of existence, vanishing piece-by-piece into thin air. “I really hope you know what you’re doing, Mammon.”

You were the first to break the silence once the demon of lust disappeared, asking, “You’ll be reborn? So you never even had to worry about dying?”

“Demons can be killed, but they can’t die.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks. Really cleared things up for me with that.”

“Let’s just drop it.”

You couldn’t just drop it, though. “You weren’t actually imprisoned in Hell, were you?”

“I was. Sort of.” He paused. “Haven’t been for a while, to be honest.”

“Then why didn’t you go with Joshua? It doesn’t sound like he wants you back to throw you back in the lake.”

“I don’t want to be a pawn in their silly games anymore,” Jeonghan muttered darkly. “It’s infuriating.”

“Then what are you gonna do? That was the easiest way for you to get back!”

“I have time, human.” Jeonghan didn’t seem to want to be pressed further, so you backed off. “Don’t worry about me.”

He walked into your room and slammed the door shut, so you settled back into the couch and hugged the throw pillow to your chest. How could you not worry? You couldn’t understand Jeonghan at all, and although you wanted to respect his decision not to go back with Joshua, you were at a crossroads; staying here was killing him. He had far too much pride to think rationally.

Plus, the longer he stayed with you, the more it stung when you realized time was running out. Fast.

The next day, Jeonghan appeared as if he was back to normal. It was odd, though, given how he was brooding yesterday. You made a conscious effort not to mention Joshua, but you knew the topic was still weighing heavy on his shoulders.

(He was insatiable once you were awake and sitting up in bed, prying your legs open and begging you for a taste. Although you had several questions for the demon, your carnal desire overtook whatever curiosity you had.

“Feeling better?” you asked cautiously.

“I’ll feel better soon. Anyway, good morning,” he purred. “You’re dripping already, human. I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Your chest felt hot. “Yeah, yeah, just get to it.”

“My pleasure.”)

“Hey,” you called out later during breakfast. “I’m going out with Sooyoung tonight. Are you gonna be okay being alone at home?”

“Where are you going?” he asked instead.

You paused between your spoonfuls of cereal. “Uh, just a party.”

“I love parties,” Jeonghan said. “Will there be human sacrifices?”

You grimaced. Although your guardian demon was making impressive improvements on his transition to human life, there were still some flaws in his way of thinking. On the bright side, though, he made sure to pass his morbid comments by you before he tried them out in front of others.

“No, it’s a college party,” you replied. “The most deadly thing there will be alcohol and Old Spice.”

“Boring,” he mused before getting up from his seat and heading to the living room. “Well, be safe.”

You nearly choked on your cereal, completely forgetting to respond to his words. Did Jeonghan—Mammon, manifestation of greed, one of the Seven Princes of Hell—just tell you to be safe? You had to be hearing things.

Or, your heart offered, maybe some part of him cares about you—deep, deep down.

You pushed down the thought entirely, forcing yourself to think of other alternatives. After all, there was no possible way for a demon to feel those sorts of emotions.

It was almost midnight and Sooyoung was passed out on the couch.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” you said in dismay. “We literally just got here.”

“That’s tough,” Kim Mingyu, president of Sigma Omega Nu, replied sympathetically. “At least her boyfriend’s here to take care of her. That means you need to drink more and get on her level.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“Hey, that’s what college is for.”

You whined when Mingyu handed you a new cup of jungle juice. Normally, you didn’t accept drinks from strangers; Mingyu was harmless, though, and you two were well-established friends for a few years now. However, you were on your third cup of juice by now, and, if you kept it up, you were probably going to end up like Sooyoung. Since she was the one who drove you two here, though, you had to stay sober enough to find a ride home. No matter what happened, you were determined to not fall asleep on the musty frat house couch.

(It already happened once last year. You woke up the next morning to Kwon Soonyoung yelling, “Someone take a picture of Y/N sleeping on the couch I got laid on!”)

“I can’t get drunk,” you insisted. “I have to get home.” To make sure my pet demon is behaving, you wanted to add.

Mingyu let out a snicker. “Call someone to pick you up or I can ask one of the sober monitors to drop you off.”

You pondered for a moment. Technically, you could call Jeonghan. Now that he had gotten the hang of using his phone, you saw him texting Seokmin every once in a while. You were sure he would be able to pick up a call, as well.

“Fine, whatever. Hand it over.” You took the red solo cup from him and downed its contents—just under ten seconds, counted by Mingyu himself. “I’m gonna go call my friend before this starts hitting me.”

You walked out into the backyard where the music wasn’t as loud. The cool air hitting your flushed skin made you feel like you could breathe properly again, but you still weren’t walking nearly straight enough. With careful hands, you searched up Jeonghan’s number in your contacts.

Your phone rang three times before he picked up.

“Human? Are you dead?”

You frowned. “If I was dead, how would I be calling you?”

“I was hoping I could keep your soul around as my pet in Hell,” he said.

You must have had some sort of degradation kink by this point because that comment was not supposed to make you feel butterflies in your stomach. It was time for you to consider therapy.

You cut straight to the point. “Can you come to the party?”

“What? No.”

His refusal normally would’ve stung, but you were too tipsy to back down now. “Please? Sooyoung already passed out and her boyfriend’s taking care of her. I’m getting drunk all by myself now.”

Sort of an exaggeration. You were going to use every card up your sleeve.

“Then walk home.”

“I can’t. Home’s too far to walk.”

“Then sleep over at whoever’s house you’re at.”

“It’s a house full of frat boys. Their living conditions are probably worse than yours down in Hell.”

“Then sober up.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be my guardian demon?!”

“If you want an angel to come rescue you, I would try Seokmin’s number.”

You let out a groan and crouched down, letting your head hang between your knees. This was fruitless; Jeonghan was stubborn as a mule, and you were getting nowhere with this conversation.

But this wasn’t just about getting someone to take you home. You certainly had other options, so you could hang up on Jeonghan right now and find someone else to drive you back. However, you just didn’t want to admit out loud that you wanted to see Jeonghan. You wanted him to come over and take care of you, even though that was impossible for the demon.

You were just foolish.

“Fine, Jeonghan,” you snapped. Your head started to feel fuzzy, and you were quickly losing control over your own tongue. “I’ll get home all by myself. I’ll walk home in the cold, dark night, and hell, I’ll even walk on the road if I feel like it. Maybe I’ll lay down and take a nap if I get really tired, and if I can’t even make it to the door, I’ll just sleep in Mingyu’s bed—” You didn’t realize you were pacing until you hit a solid surface. “Ow—wait, what the hell?”

Jeonghan, in the flesh, sighed heavily and hung up the call in front of you. “Human, you’re really such a pain in the ass sometimes.”

“H-how’d you get here?” you asked, your cheeks starting to feel hot. “Did you teleport or whatever again? Didn’t you say that eats up your power? Are you—”

The demon clamped a hand over your mouth. “I materialized here, and yes, it eats up the little power I have left,” he whispered harshly, “but you wouldn’t stop running your mouth, so here I am. How could you get intoxicated so easily?”

“Well… I’ve been here for about an hour,” you defended. “It doesn’t take that much for me to get drunk. I’m pretty lightweight.”

“How much did you have?”

“Like, three cups of jungle juice.”

“Jungle… juice?”

You snorted. “This one’s got vodka, rum, and fruit punch. It’s pretty good.”

“Three cups?” Jeonghan asked with a scoff. “I forget that humans have such weak tolerances for alcohol. I can drink eight bottles of wine without getting drunk.”

“Oh yeah?” you challenged. You dragged the demon inside the frat house, not giving him the chance to take in and process his surroundings. You poured him a cup of jungle juice in the kitchen and handed it to him. “Drink up, then.”

Jeonghan raised a brow at you before chugging down the liquid like water. He handed it back to you with a light smirk playing on his lips.

“Are you sure there’s even alcohol in this concoction?” he asked, barking out a laugh. “Human, you’re too cute. This is nothing for a powerful demon like…” he trailed off, looking down at his feet and letting out a soft exhale. “My chest feels hot.”

Your hand flew up to cover your mouth, stopping yourself from bursting out into laughter. This sight was absolutely priceless. You didn’t think you would ever be able to see Jeonghan so vulnerable.

“Are you drunk off one cup of jungle juice?” you asked, and, at this point, you weren’t able to stifle your laughter. “Oh my god!”

“Shut up, human,” he grumbled. He blinked a few times and held onto the edge of the counter. “I’ve never felt this way before. My body isn’t used to having a human’s biological system.”

“Whoa, this guy is fucked,” Lee Chan retorted, showing up out of nowhere. “He’s talking like something out of I, Robot.”

You rolled your eyes at his pop culture reference, but Jeonghan didn’t seem to follow at all. For all the movies he and Seokmin had been watching, you were surprised that they didn’t get around to this one.

“Robot,” Jeonghan mumbled, moving to lean against you. You grabbed his arm and tried to hold him steady, but he just wrapped his arms around you and let his head rest on your shoulder. “I feel like I’ve just been expelled into the Outerverse with Yog-Sothoth. Ah, fuck, those guys owe me…”

You had to get Jeonghan out of here fast. Before he started speaking crazy demon lingo again.

“Are you sober monitoring tonight?” you asked Chan. “You think you could drive us home?”

“Yeah, sure,” Chan agreed with a smile. Gauging that Jeonghan wasn’t responsive enough to answer any questions, the frat boy decided to ask you, “Did you bring a friend from another school, Y/N?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” you mumbled. “This is Jeonghan.”

Chan ducked his head to get a good look at Jeonghan’s face. “Nice to meet you, Jeonghan.”

“Hi, Robot.”

“No, my name’s not Robot.”

Jeonghan’s biggest weakness wound up being seatbelts.

You and Chan had to fight him down to get him to sit down properly in the back seat. Since he was fussing too much, you decided to sit with Chan up front, letting Jeonghan moan and grumble incoherently in the back.

(“Unchain me, human,” the demon kept whining. “I refuse to be imprisoned in the mortal realm.”

When he was stopped at a red light, Chan threw a glance over his shoulder before telling you, “I think your friend watches too much anime.”

“He’s going through a phase,” you lied.)

While you made light conversation with the frat brother, you felt like your guardian demon was glaring daggers at the poor boy. You wanted to smack him upside the head for his rudeness despite Chan’s generous act.

You craned your neck to look back at Jeonghan, shooting him a warning look. He simply scoffed and looked the other way, although he ended up resting his head against the window once he realized his world was still spinning.

“Come on, Jeonghan,” you murmured once Chan parked the car in front of your place. “Get up.”

“Don’t wanna.”

You tugged the sleeve of his shirt impatiently. “What? Why?”

“Not going back with someone who ignores me.”

Your jaw nearly went slack. Was he jealous? Yoon Jeonghan, Prince of Greed, was jealous over frat boy Lee Chan? Over something so miniscule as you sitting in the passenger’s seat? This was definitely something you were going to hold over the demon’s head for as long as you could.

“I’m not ignoring you, okay?” you tried. “Come back home with me, and you’ll have my full attention.”

Jeonghan hesitated before he let out a begrudged grumble. “Fine.”

You and Chan hauled the drunken demon to his feet, taking one of his arms and throwing it over your shoulders so that you could help him walk. Chan assisted you by slinging Jeonghan’s other arm over his shoulder, but you still found it hard to walk properly with Jeonghan’s head lolling to the side. His face was so close that you could feel his hot breath against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

“You smell so good, human,” he murmured. Jesus, he was saying all this while Chan was still here? You were glad that Jeonghan couldn’t tell how flustered you were, but it was probably evident to Chan. “What perfume is that?”

“This guy sure does call you ‘human’ a lot,” Chan observed with a light laugh.

“Uh, yeah, inside joke,” you explained quickly. “Let’s just get him to the couch.”

Once you and Chan let Jeonghan’s heavy body drop onto the couch, you walked the frat boy to the door. He stuffed his hands deep in his pockets, a shy smile playing on his lips. He looked at you expectantly, like he was waiting for a tip or something. You were considering handing him the crumpled-up five dollars you left in your back pocket.

“We should hang out sometime, Y/N,” he started. “I feel like I barely see you around the house anymore.”

“Oh, yeah, I haven’t been in a partying mood lately,” you explained, “but I’ll try to drop by more.”

“Alright. I’ll see you around.”

Before you could respond, a voice from behind you loudly interjected, “Bye.” With that, Jeonghan slammed the door shut with one hand.

“That was rude,” you said.

“Can I gut him like a fish?”

“That’s even more rude. Please don’t.”

“Whatever.”

You looked back at Jeonghan, who had one hand against the door that was right beside your head. “What’s your deal? He was nice enough to drive you back and help you to the couch.”

“Why do you keep ignoring me?” he asked, proceeding to ignore you at the same time.

“I-I’m not ignoring you!” you stammered. “I’m the one who helped you get back to the apartment!”

He had you backed up against the door, looking up at him with worry knitting your brows together. Jeonghan let his head drop to lay on your shoulder, leaving you frozen in place. You figured it was the alcohol rushing to his head, but you couldn’t help the fact that your heart was pounding in your chest.

“Human,” he mumbled against your collarbone, “why can’t you just stay by my side?”

“Huh? But—”

“I wanna be human, too.”

The words sounded strange coming from him. Almost like he was at his tipping point. Tender. Raw. Vulnerable. You were absolutely dumbfounded by what you had just heard. With no coherent response coming to mind, all you could do was raise your hand to gently thread through his soft strands of hair.

“Let’s get you to bed,” you replied softly, letting the demon stay in your embrace as you walked him back to your bedroom. He looked up at you quizzically when you sat him down on the edge of your bed. “It’s about time you stopped sleeping on the floor. I’ll take the couch, so—”

You cut yourself off when Jeonghan wrapped his arms around your legs and pressed his lips to your thighs. “Stay here with me.”

You stared ahead, straight at the wall, a dull ache throbbing in your chest. “What are you doing, Jeonghan?”

“What?”

“Why are you doing this to me?” you asked. “You only have months left to live. You should’ve just gone back with Joshua.”

He stiffened. “I didn’t want to.”

“Yeah, I guess you’ll just be reborn, anyway,” you muttered. “You never had anything to worry about to begin with.”

Jeonghan suddenly pulled away from you, his eyes cold as ice. Since he was always docile around you, there was never any reason for you to feel scared around the demon. However, the look he was giving you left you backing up slowly from him.

“I’d rather stay dead than be reborn,” Jeonghan said, “and I wouldn’t feel so agonized about it if I didn’t have to meet you.”

Tears pricked your eyes. You felt a lump rising in your throat, and you felt the hot, salty tears hitting your feet before you even realized you had started to cry. It took all of your willpower to keep the waterworks at bay. The demon’s cruel words were never supposed to get under your skin this bad. You held him at arm’s length for that very reason.

Maybe, all this time, you had been pulling him closer unintentionally.

“You think nothing hurts for me just because I’m a demon,” he continued, “but it stings every time you try to chase me away.”

“I’m not trying to chase you away.”

“Then why do you keep pushing me to go back to Hell?” he asked. You couldn’t exactly read his expression, but it was clear that Jeonghan felt tormented. The pain in his eyes was telling of that. “Why did you want me to go back with Asmodeus?”

You huffed. “I really don’t understand you. You don’t want to die and be reborn, but you don’t want to go to Hell either? Aren’t you going to die if you stay here?”

“You don’t get it.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to be reborn because I lose all my memories of the mortal world. I lose all my memories of you.”

“And you don’t want to go to Hell because…”

“The only reason you summoned me was because of Asmo—I mean, Joshua’s—need for pointless entertainment. Surely, with what’s been going down in Hell ever since I left, they won’t let me leave again until Pythius is quelled. That could take hundreds or thousands of years.” Jeonghan scoffed, shaking his head. “Pythius… one of the most fearsome and hideous demons. There’s no telling what he’d do for a seat with the Seven Princes.”

“I’m sure if I go back, he would try to kill me over and over again,” he continued, “because he detests me the most. That group of them—the Malebranche—they might be more sadistic than Lucifer himself.”

You frowned. “What’d you do to him?”

“Why do you assume I did something to him?” Jeonghan scowled.

“Because you’re the demon prince of greed,” you replied. “I’m sure you pissed him off somehow.”

He snorted. “Pythius rules the eighth circle where frauds are punished. He hates nothing more than the greed that consumes those humans. Of course he’d loathe the demon that represents the very sin.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you act that greedy here, though. Are you different when you’re down there?”

The dark glint in Jeonghan’s eyes nearly went undetected. You only managed to catch it because of the way his smile dropped in tune. His normally easygoing expression was replaced with the same serious look he wore when Joshua was around.

“I haven’t been this greedy in eons, human.”

You tried to think back to when Jeonghan had acted in such a way. Sure, there were the multiple times he gave you (mind-blowing) head and the time he asked you for the newest iPhone, but those didn’t seem as drastic to you. You expected the very demon of greed to be more selfish.

“Really?” You forced out a stilted laugh. “I think you’re about as greedy as a toddler, like, in a bratty way, but that’s it.”

Jeonghan stood up.

You took notice of his broad shoulders before, but now you felt swamped under his gaze. He towered over you with ease, looking down at you with a storm brewing in his eyes. There were no words exchanged at first, but one look at the demon told you that whatever he was experiencing was far too human for him to understand fully.

“I’m so greedy that I would let the hierarchy in Hell fall to shambles because of you,” he started. “I would abandon my seat and let Pythius take control just so I can stay here with you. I would rather wither away on Earth instead of going back to Hell where I can’t see you again. I would let Alastor, the chief executioner, torture me over and over again until the ache in my heart finally goes away—the ache you caused.”

His next words were no louder than a weak whisper when he grabbed your forearms and said, “I’m so greedy that I wanna just give up everything for you, Y/N.”

With that, Jeonghan muttered something about sleeping on the couch before he walked out of your room and shut the door. That was the first time he had ever called you by your name; yet, it didn’t even make you feel happy. The first salty tear hit the floorboards, then the next, then more. You could only watch the demon leave in silence, finally letting yourself cry once he was out of sight.

Crying because you didn’t want him to leave. Crying because your feelings were already running too deep.

Crying because you knew a botched confession when you heard one.

Just as you were about to settle in bed, burrow yourself in the sheets and sob until you fell asleep, you heard Jeonghan’s footsteps coming back from the living room. You had no time to regain your composure when he flung open the door, his eyes stony and his lips pulled down in a frown.

“I can’t sleep if you’re crying like this,” he murmured, walking over to cup your face with his large hands. “That’s foul play.”

He kissed you.

The motion was swift—a gentle grab of your jaw and tilt of your chin, and Jeonghan was kissing away your disquiet with surprising tenderness.

Temptation.

Temptation was the utmost desire that demons could draw from mortals, but you weren’t quite sure this was it. Jeonghan’s kiss felt different—more intimate. His lips moved against yours with hesitance at first, and he only deepened it once you reciprocated. It felt like he wasn’t trying to pull you closer; rather, he was waiting for you to find him.

Once you two were lost in desperate kisses and heavy breaths, Jeonghan jerked away with a light gasp. You stared at him, dazed, before he grabbed your wrist and pressed your hand firmly against his chest. At first, you weren’t quite sure what he was having you do, but the realization was a slap in the face.

A heartbeat.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

It was fast, like he had just run a marathon. You looked up at the demon quizzically, but he was already pulling away. Your hand hung in the air before dropping to your side, registering too late that he had already let go.

“You think nothing hurts me,” he mumbled. This time, he had his own hand flat against his chest. “I torture myself every day like this because I know, deep down, there’s no happy ending for us.” The demon’s eyes, normally masked with golden brown irises, glowed a dim red.

It started drizzling outside. Soft pattering of rain that drowned out the silence.

Everything would fall apart—slowly, gently, inevitably. Jeonghan, too, would eventually become nothing but a ghost of a raindrop that once streaked your window.

Post-party hangovers always called for breakfast at The Veranda. It became a tradition between you and Sooyoung to go there after a night of partying. That, or you two would skip straight to lunch and get pho. There was no telling when either of you would wake up the next morning.

Today, however, Sooyoung texted you early enough.

“We should get cocktails,” she suggested while looking down the menu.

“You already blacked out last night, you crazy bitch.”

To be frank, you had ulterior motives for this outing. For one, you wanted to get out of the house because the tension between you and Jeonghan was making you suffocate. The other reason was because you wanted to consult Sooyoung with your problems.

You started with, “So, there’s this guy,” and your best friend was already at the edge of her seat. Once you finished giving her the rundown (which only concluded after you ordered your food and were halfway done with your herb roasted chicken sandwich), Sooyoung paused to think, which stretched into about five minutes. More than enough time for you to finish your sandwich.

“I don’t get what the problem is,” Sooyoung finally said, tilting her head curiously. “If you two like each other, then just ask him out.”

If only it were that easy, you thought to yourself, but you couldn’t spare her the details of how impossible the situation was. You weren’t in the mood to hear “if he wanted to, he would” when you were dealing with a guardian demon who was literally dying in the mortal world.

You hesitated. “Let’s just say that he’s not exactly available right now.”

“He has a girlfriend?” Sooyoung asked, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. She looked ready to start telling you off for being a homewrecker, so you had to clarify immediately.

“No, no, he’s single,” you said. “He’s just not… emotionally available to date.”

“So, he’s been getting all close to you without wanting to date you.”

“Uh, not really? He’s just—”

“Cut him off, Y/N.”

“What?” you asked, eyes widening. You figured the situation sounded bad from an outsider’s perspective, but there was no way for you to break it down without explaining that Jeonghan’s your guardian demon from Hell that ended up being trapped on Earth because of your statistics midterm and demonic intervention from Joshua, the other oddball from Hell. “I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can,” Sooyoung replied. “It’ll hurt at first, but you’ll get over it eventually.”

“But he’s…” you trailed off, wondering how the fuck you were going to defend a demon prince of greed. You settled with saying, “He’s funny.”

“So are clowns, Y/N. You don’t see me asking out Ronald McDonald.”

“Okay, it’s not that simple, Sooyoung!” you cried out. “It’s more like… he doesn’t have that much time left here.”

“Oh.” She sounded lost at first, but the confused look on her face was slowly replaced with somber understanding. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“No, you’re good. I didn’t know how to say it.”

“Well, if that’s the case,” she said, “why don’t you just make the most of the time you have left with him?”

Sooyoung’s words hadn’t left your mind ever since breakfast. Even after she dropped you off at your apartment, you were still replaying the conversation in your head.

You thought about it in the shower.

You thought about it while doing your homework.

And you continued to think about it when Jeonghan was spreading your legs apart later that day.

“Didn’t we just fight?” you asked, your voice unnaturally high. Despite your words, you came to realize that you were sort of feral when it came to your sex life. A little fight was just a chip on your shoulder.

“That was a fight?” Jeonghan asked. “I’ve been in fights before. They’re pretty gruesome. Usually some heads roll or someone gets disemboweled.”

“A verbal fight,” you clarified.

“I’ve been in verbal fights before, too. They usually end with someone getting stabbed.”

“Okay, well, that’s not a verbal fight.” You sighed. “I mean, aren’t you upset with me? You were acting like being around me was hurting you.”

Jeonghan looked down and went completely silent.

“Hello?” you called. Did you break him?

Jeonghan looked back up. This time, his cheeks were tinged scarlet red. Your eyes went wide at the sight of the demon fully blushing over your words. You were definitely adding this bullet point to the Blackmail on Jeonghan folder you kept in your Notes app.

“I let my emotions get the best of me, okay?” he mumbled. “Let's just drop it.”

You, however, were brimming with questions. “Hey, but you let me feel your heartbeat last night,” you started. “Did you always have a heart?”

Jeonghan pulled away to look at you with distaste dawning on his face. “Did I always have a heart? Of course I’ve always had a heart, human. How would I be giving you the head of your life if I was a corpse?”

Your demon was gradually evolving to develop a filthy mouth. You weren’t sure if this was improvement or regression.

“You have a human heart and you can feel human emotions,” you said. “What makes you and I so different, then?”

Jeonghan opened his mouth, but before he could speak, there was a knock at the door. You glanced at Jeonghan suspiciously, wondering if he invited Seokmin without your knowledge, but even he looked clueless. There was no one you were expecting, so you wondered if it was just the UPS guy dropping off a package.

When you opened your door though, it was indeed Seokmin, and he was pissed.

You had never seen him like this, with his nostrils flaring and his skin flushed red. It was almost as if steam was coming out of his own ears. But there was something very glaring about Seokmin that had you gawking at him.

His wings were on full display.

Snowy white wings fanned out behind him. You could hear a low, angelic hum faintly resounding from the feathers. You were in shock for a moment, unsettled and overwhelmed by the heavenly light that Seokmin was bathing in.

It seemed to have an even worse effect on Jeonghan. You noticed how he flinched at the sight, backing up slowly.

“Get back, Y/N,” Seokmin ordered. “I know this is gonna sound crazy, but your roommate’s dangerous.”

You wondered if he had some unexplainable power over you because your actions were going against your words as you found yourself stumbling away from the two. “Seokmin, don’t do this,” you begged.

He frowned. “What?”

But Jeonghan got his words in before you could. “Looks like the both of us figured it out before you did. You just found out you’re a Quartarion, huh?”

He was jeering, like he was taunting the angel to attack him. You couldn’t understand what the demon was thinking when he was clearly overpowered right now. Even if Seokmin wasn’t a pureblood angel, Jeonghan’s powers had considerably weakened ever since he entered the mortal realm.

“How…” Seokmin was shocked for a moment, straightening up and glowering down at you. “How did you know?”

“You found out recently, didn’t you? Mommy or daddy told you they were half, which meant you’re quarter—weaker than them,” Jeonghan pressed. “They kept it from you all this time, huh? Because your angelic presence wasn’t strong enough to be a threat, but then you started glowing brighter.”

“Jeonghan, enough!” you yelled, trying to mediate whatever was happening. You had no idea what Seokmin was going to do, but it definitely didn’t seem like he was here for another movie night.

“Mammon,” Seokmin said through gritted teeth. “That’s your real name, right?” Suddenly, the angel turned on you with an accusatory stare. “And you—how did you know about all of this? Did he tell you?”

You gulped before starting slowly, “Look, I accidentally summoned Jeonghan from my statistics textbook the day before you met him at the Olive Garden.”

Seokmin tilted his head, looking utterly puzzled. None of those words were in the Bible.

“I knew he was a demon,” you continued, “and he told me you were an angel. He could sense it, or something like that.”

“Oh,” Seokmin replied rather sadly, as if he had just discovered he had been the brunt of a joke all along. “Well, I’m sorry you were caught up in this Y/N, but I have to kill your roommate before he hurts anyone else.”

“Whoa, hold on—he hasn’t hurt anyone!” you cried, holding onto Seokmin’s shoulder to keep him from charging at Jeonghan. “You’re an angel; you can’t kill him!”

“Technically, he can,” Jeonghan noted as he just barely avoided the angel grabbing him. “Some angels are specifically assigned to keep demons away from humans. I think Seokmin’s just mad, though.”

“I’m not just mad,” Seokmin spat, although he was visibly seething. “I just feel stupid that I befriended someone who was trying to kill me this whole time!”

You turned your gaze to Jeonghan, who held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’ll admit I might have had murderous intentions at first, but come on! You would be dead by now if I really wanted to kill you.”

“You can’t kill him, Seokmin,” you repeated in a desperate attempt. “You owe him!”

Now the angel was lost. “And how exactly do I owe him?”

“Remember when your card declined, and I bought you that croissant on campus last week?” you tried. As soon as the words came out, you heard a loud groan from Jeonghan, and you were sure he was pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. “You owe me, who owes Jeonghan, so you owe Jeonghan!”

Seokmin was even more lost. “What?”

“Transitive property of equality: A equals B equals C, so A equals C.”

“There’s no way you’re actually applying the transitive property of equality to this situation.”

“And what exactly do you owe me for?” Jeonghan chimed in, equally as confused.

“Yeah, I can’t believe I’m agreeing with him on this one, but he’s a demon, Y/N,” Seokmin said. “If you feel like you owe him anything, it’s likely you were manipulated by him.”

“No, I wasn’t!” you protested before the demon could object himself. “I owe him because…”

You trailed off, wondering how you were going to string your feelings into comprehensible words. They were all a mess of jumbled vowels and consonants in your head, holding no significant weight until you thought long and hard, feeling it get heavier and heavier on your tongue.

The angel raised a brow. “Because what?”

Letters unfurling in your head. Piecing themselves together. You felt like your head was going to explode until you blurted out, “Because he showed me what love feels like.”

You looked over at Jeonghan to see him staring at you like a deer caught in headlights. He looked helpless at the moment, wild with pain, like he had let down all lines of defense at your declaration. A scarlet red blush stained his cheeks, and it was perhaps the single most human expression you had ever seen from him.

Seokmin moved forward, and an agonized scream tore itself from your throat before you could even think. His sudden movement chilled your blood, and all you could think about was how you needed to protect your guardian demon before he was struck by the angel.

And so you did.

Confession time: you kicked an angel in the balls.

You were pretty sure that was a one-way ticket to Hell.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” you kept repeating to a defeated Seokmin, who was now laying on the couch with pain drawn all over his face. “My fight response has been kicking in a lot more lately.”

“I wasn’t gonna hurt him,” he explained weakly. “My foot was just cramping up.”

“So you won’t kill Jeonghan?” you asked, brimming with hope.

“I… I don’t know,” he answered. “Jeonghan’s a demon, Y/N. Just because you have feelings for him doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of manipulating those emotions out of you.”

“He’s as good as human, Seokmin.”

“Y/N,” Jeonghan started, but you shook your head.

“I’m right!” you insisted. “Jeonghan has a heart, and it beats; I’ve felt it myself.” The two men were silent, so you continued, “He can’t handle alcohol at all; he’s more lightweight than I am. He likes building lego sets. He likes the rain, and he said it’s because that means an angel’s crying, but it’s really because he loves the way the Earth smells after rainfall. He likes coffee, but he always pours me some first before he takes any. You think he’d have the vocabulary of a Victorian man, but he knows more slang than I do. He… Jeonghan wants to be human. Isn’t that enough for you?”

Silence hung in the air. You wondered if you overstepped for a moment, aired out too much of his business, but then you could visibly see Seokmin at war with himself. You could see the internal battle in his eyes, fighting to believe in whatever the angels had instructed him to do.

He narrowed his eyes at the demon and asked in a calmer voice, “You swear you won’t kill me?”

“I swear on God.”

“You’re a demon. Swear on something else.”

“Um, okay… I swear on, uh, Y/N.”

“Please don’t swear on me,” you muttered, looking at your feet nervously as if the ground was going to swallow you whole.

Seokmin closed his eyes, exhaling loudly. “So, when did you stop wanting to kill me?”

“Y/N and I had a deal that I wouldn’t kill you in exchange for—”

You slapped a hand over the demon’s mouth immediately, successfully muffling the next words that decided to slip from his lips. It felt like your face was burning from how embarrassed you were. While Jeonghan shot you a confused look and tried to lick your palm to get it to budge, you exclaimed, “That detail isn’t important!”

“Anyway,” Jeonghan continued once you finally removed your hand, “I guess… part of me started enjoying those movie nights. Kinda hard to discuss the endings after you kill your friend, right?”

You could see Seokmin visibly soften, the fondness returning to his eyes. “You’re telling the truth.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“You can tell?” you inquired, wondering if it was some sort of angelic ability he had recently acquired.

“Yeah, I’ve always had some sort of sixth sense about these things,” Seokmin said, although you weren’t quite sure about this because you and Jeonghan had lied to him on numerous occasions. “I was only able to tap into it after I saw my wings for the first time.”

You then wondered if the longing etched bone-deep in Jeonghan’s face was also real.

It took a couple of hours for you and Jeonghan to explain everything to Seokmin, from beginning to end. You had to start from how you accidentally summoned him, which seemed to entertain the both of them, and you had to scold them both to take the situation seriously. Then, Jeonghan explained his side of the story, detailing how he didn’t have much time left because his mortal body was weak. 

“What do we do now, then?” Seokmin asked, sitting up straight now. “You’re gonna die if you stay here, right?”

“That’s why he wanted to kill an angel,” you said, “but now we don’t have a game plan.”

The three of you sat in silence for several minutes, letting the situation sink in. Your nerves were still buzzing from your earlier confession, still unanswered by Jeonghan, but you knew it wasn’t the time to dwell on that. There were more important matters at hand, but no one knew what to do.

Jeonghan sighed. “It’s fine. I’ve already accepted that I’m going to die here and be reborn in Hell.”

“You think that’s fair to Y/N? Or me?” Seokmin burst out. “You’re basically telling us to watch you die, dude.”

“You think I wanted this outcome?” he snapped. “No, I didn’t think I was going to actually enjoy living in this realm! I didn’t think I was gonna fall in love with my human! I didn’t think mortals had such excellent marketing strategies!”

Seokmin’s eyes went wide. “You…”

“Jeonghan,” was all you could say, and his name came out no louder than a whisper.

“What?!”

“You said you love me.” 

You looked toward Seokmin for confirmation, who answered with a quiet nod—an indication that not only had you heard it correctly, but Jeonghan was telling the truth.

To be honest, you were quite embarrassed that this was all coming to light in front of Lee Seokmin. He seemed very out of place in this otherwise tender moment. Yet, you were filled with inexplicable happiness and absolute dread simultaneously.

Once the grief settled, you were born again. Newfound confidence rising up your throat. You were determined to do whatever it took to mortalize Jeonghan.

“Oh, right.” The demon sounded nervous—enough to make you nervous. He simply stared at you for a moment before brushing the proclamation off with a wave. “Anyway…”

“Jeonghan!”

He shot you a withering look, glaring you down with every fiber of his being. “Seokmin is right there. Do you really wanna do this right now?” he whispered in an exasperated tone, turning his back to his friend so that he could converse with you. Although Jeonghan was lecturing, you were enjoying the way his blush rose to his cheeks. “We can talk about this after he leaves.”

“Okay, fine,” you agreed. “Why’d you have to blurt out a confession while he was here?”

“You did the same thing!”

“I can still hear you guys,” Seokmin reminded unhelpfully.

Somehow, Jeonghan took this as an opportunity to continue to chastise you. “See? This is all because you can’t keep quiet.”

“I can’t keep quiet?” You knew this was not the time nor place to bicker with your guardian demon, but he was an expert at getting on your nerves. “You’re the one who speaks in crazy demon lingo wherever we go!”

He scoffed. “I don’t speak in crazy demon lingo, human.”

“Yeah? Tell that to Chan. Poor guy had to witness your drunk ass going on about the Yog Sloth owing you or whatever.”

Jeonghan stammered and did a double take, looking at you like you had just kicked him square in the chest. “Wait… what did you just say?”

“Uh, Chan—”

“No, the other thing.”

“The Yog Sloth?”

“Yog Sloth,” he echoed, and then something clicked. “Yog-Sothoth? Wait, the Outer Gods—oh my god! They do owe me!” he all but yelled, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. “Y/N, you’re a genius!”

Seokmin’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What’d she even do?” he asked, and you were glad you were on the same page as him.

“Yeah, what’d I do? Who the hell are the Outer Gods?”

For the next thirty minutes, Jeonghan went on to explain how billions of years ago, the most powerful beings of all creation, that rivaled even God Himself, were ruling over the universe. Before space and time was Azathoth—chaos. Azathoth even tried to disrupt the beginning of God’s Creation by starting a war. Each blow delivered from both God and Azathoth caused a rippling effect, creating infinite multiverses that were birthed from the clashing between darkness and light.

There was a period in time when the angels and demons had to side together for once to seal away the Outer Gods. Although they were no match for these cosmic beings, God was able to lock them in the Outerverse, where they have been slumbering ever since.

The key that locked away the Outer Gods had been missing for several millennia, but it happened to end up in the hands of Mammon and Belphegor. Mammon had the clever idea of reshaping the artifact into a human hand and hiding it in a fiery lake in Hell. It was called the Right Hand of Doom, but it hadn’t been touched ever since its reform.

“You reshaped a key of cosmic importance into a hand,” you summarized in disbelief. “That key has the power to doom all of our existences, and you turned it into a human hand.”

“You know, Belphegor had the same reaction after I created it,” Jeonghan said. “Actually, let me give him a call to fetch it for me.”

“Wait!” Seokmin exclaimed. “That key could wake the Outer Gods from their slumber. What are you planning on doing with it? Are you seriously considering using the Outerverse?”

“No, Seokmin, I’m gonna use it as a back scratcher.”

“Don’t get me wrong; I do want you to stay here, but this is extremely dangerous. It’s a really selfish decision, Jeonghan.”

“I’m literally the Prince of Greed.”

“Jeonghan, no matter how much I want you to become human and stay with me, this is just… it’s just crazy,” you said. “What if it goes completely wrong? What if you’re trapped in the Outerverse and killed by the Outer Gods?”

“Listen,” Jeonghan started. “When I first created the Right Hand of Doom, I was contacted by Yog-Sothoth himself—Azathoth’s grandson.”

“How did he contact you if he’s imprisoned?” you asked.

“These gods have their ways the same way demons do,” Jeonghan explained. “It’s kept on the down-low, but there are numerous worshippers of theirs that seek out ways to release them. None of them are ever successful, though.”

He continued, “Anyway, Yog-Sothoth isn’t as cruel as the others. He’s actually quite generous when he deems someone worthy, and I guess he thought I was that person when I refashioned the Right Hand of Doom. Millions of years ago, I helped the Outer Gods out by bringing them sacrifices to empower them, so they’re in my debt.”

Seokmin's face soured. “Why’d you bring them sacrifices?”

“Dunno. I was bored.”

“Let me get this straight,” you spoke up. “So, you’re gonna risk your life over the slight chance that you could be turned human?”

Jeonghan’s dark eyes pierced yours, as if he was saying, Look at me. Look at how far I’d go for you.

“Relax.” He cracked a smile. “It’s not like I’m going to the Outerverse myself. I just need the Right Hand of Doom to communicate with Yog-Sothoth across our realms. Even if he rejects my bargain, I doubt he’d try to crush me to a pulp from his prison.”

“If that’s all there is to it,” Seokmin started, a smile creeping to his face, “then I don’t see why we shouldn’t try.”

Jeonghan left the room momentarily to contact Belphegor, Prince of Sloth. He hadn’t exactly disclosed how he was going to summon the demon, but he returned with a scowl on his face, shaking his head as he explained that Belphegor was too lazy to retrieve the Right Hand of Doom at the moment. You and Seokmin asked when he would return, but even Jeonghan didn’t have an exact answer.

“Give me a call whenever he decides to show up,” Seokmin said before he went back to his apartment. You could tell that he was still shaken up from finding out that his friend had been a demon all this time, but you were glad that they were both being civil for now.

However, there were now other issues at hand. As soon as Seokmin left your apartment, you realized that the tension between you and Jeonghan couldn’t even be cut by a blade. To your surprise, your guardian demon was the first to mention it.

“You love me,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. It was like he was trying to wrap his head around the concept, trying to make sure it was real.

“I do,” you said bravely, “and you love me, I think. Seokmin seemed to believe it was true, and he’s an angel, so…”

“I think I do.” He looked pained. “These feelings are really confusing. I feel like I can’t breathe sometimes. You have a way of making me feel like I’m at the top of the world sometimes, but sometimes I feel like I’ve hit rock bottom.”

You understood that completely. When you and Jeonghan had your good moments together, you felt like you were soaring. However, when you were reminded about how little time he had left on Earth, you wanted to shut out the rest of the world and hide.

“We can figure it out together,” you told him, reaching forward to grab his hand and squeeze it.

Jeonghan’s eyes always looked different to you, like melted amber. They held many millennia of age and experience, so it felt like Jeonghan was unfazed by most aspects of life he encountered. Nothing could make the man falter.

But now, with evident panic in his eyes, newfound confidence surged through your blood that compelled you to get on your tip-toes and press a chaste kiss to his lips. It was a seemingly tame sign of affection, so you were thrown off when Jeonghan quietly slid a finger past the hem of your jeans. With his head dipped, the demon looked at you through his long, feathery lashes.

“Are you… are you hungry?” you stammered out.

“No,” he mumbled, raising his head to meet your eyes with his expectant ones. “Two people who like each other… Normally, this would lead to dating, wouldn’t it?” When you nodded, he continued, “How about it, then?”

“How about what?”

“Let’s go out.”

Your mind went blank for a moment. With how straightforwardly he said it, you would have thought Jeonghan was messing with your head, trying to push your buttons by teasing you. But his face looked determined this time, like he actually meant it. You could see the red glow of his eyes as he waited for an answer.

You blinked. “Like, as boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Yes, as boyfriend and girlfriend,” Jeonghan confirmed, exasperated. He gripped your hand tighter, as if he was getting his feelings across with a gentle squeeze. “Like Hallie and Noah.”

“It’s Allie.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He scoffed, surprisingly tender in the way he cupped your cheeks and pulled you closer. You were still a bundle of nerves, but something about Jeonghan made you feel secure. Quite the opposite of how you theoretically should feel around a demon. “Hey,” he tried again, his voice no louder than murmur, “I wanna kiss you.”

You smiled. “Then do it already.”

And so he did.

Jeonghan had kissed you before, but it was nothing like this. It seemed so urgent before, like you both knew you were running out of time. This time, though, he was slow, taking his time to memorize the shape of your lips as he moved his mouth against yours. You felt his long lashes tickle your cheeks, and it almost made you giggle, so you had to pull back to regain your composure. Jeonghan looked down at you, chest heaving even though the kiss was nothing but gentle.

“Again,” you pleaded.

Immediately, his current expression turned cocky. The corner of Jeonghan’s mouth lifted in amusement, and he kissed you not-so-gently this time. He pulled your body flush against his, and you reciprocated by wrapping your arms around his neck. The moment he slid his tongue past your lips, you heard a soft groan from Jeonghan that made your knees buckle under you.

Jeonghan held your waist with one hand and the back of your head with the other. Even though you were still standing on two feet, you were sure that he could hold you up, anyway. He gripped you like he never wanted to let you go.

“You taste good,” he mumbled against your lips.

“You taste like… coffee.” You made a face and let a giggle slip.  

“Well, it’s a good thing you like coffee.”

“Not when I’m tasting it secondhand.”

“You know, a minute ago, I wanted to fuck you properly,” he said. “Now, I’m just miffed. Slightly turned on, but still miffed.”

“Fuck me properly?” you asked, sort of embarrassed by how high your voice got. You inched closer, allowing Jeonghan’s finger to toy with the waistband of your underwear. In return, you placed your hand flat against his abdomen, moving it down slowly until you reached his crotch. Jeonghan hissed when you pressed against his growing bulge. “You mean…”

“With my cock, yeah,” he finished bluntly.

It was silent for a moment. You removed your hand, swallowing carefully after realizing that your guardian demon was hard.

Jeonghan wordlessly slid his hand down your pants, maintaining direct eye contact with you. His hand cupped your clothed cunt, and although you tried to resist, you couldn’t help but throb for more contact. You wondered if he just wanted to see your reactions, and you confirmed this by watching his smirk form when you whimpered.

“Oh,” you breathed out.

“Yeah, you like that?”

His voice was heavy, ragged. You felt like you could get drunk off it, so, naturally, you backed up with him until the back of your legs hit the bed. You made a sound of agreement when he hummed, prompting you to answer his question. You couldn’t even form words when all you could think about was being under him. Jeonghan’s palming grew more intense, and you were having a harder time staying upright.

Then, he was occupied with your neck. Jeonghan dragged his soft lips along the flesh, nipping and biting where he pleased. You let out a soft whine when he sucked on that one spot that turned your brain into mush.

“I’m gonna lay you down,” he said, although it felt like a question with the way he was looking at you. His eyes were careful, like he was holding onto your every word before following through. “Am I doing this right?”

You laughed, delighted as he set you down on your bed and got over you. You looped your arms around his shoulders and asked, “What do you mean?”

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Am I going about this the right way? I don’t really do this sort of thing.”

You were surprised at his sudden meekness. Judging from Jeonghan’s overwhelming confidence from your past hookups with him, you expected him to carry on with the same arrogance. You never thought he would be so hesitant all of a sudden.

“You’re doing perfect,” you reassured with a chaste peck to his lips.

“Right.” He did one of his breathless laughs, easing your nerves with his grin. “Just tell me if I’m screwing up, then.”

Jeonghan dipped his head again to pepper kisses across your collarbone, working his way back up to the column of your neck. He worked on your sweet spot, biting and sucking until he had successfully left a bruise. You squirmed underneath him the entire time, tugging your hands through his hair and begging for him to fix the ache between your legs.

The demon only chuckled darkly in response. As he bit the shell of your ear, he removed your jeans and underwear swiftly, which you aided by kicking the garments off your ankles. He prodded your cunt with nimble fingers, grinning wider when he saw the desperation in your eyes.

“You’re so wet,” he commented in a silky voice. “All for me, huh?”

“Shut up,” you grumbled, “and take your clothes off already.”

Jeonghan rose up to sit back on your thighs, staring at you the entire time he pulled his shirt off and discarded it to the side. You couldn’t help but ogle at his figure; he was absolutely gorgeous—sculpted by God Himself.

“Don’t do that,” he said gruffly when you reached out to poke his stomach. You deduced that Jeonghan was most definitely ticklish and trying to hide that weakness from you.

“But your reaction was cute.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled, his hands moving to tug at the hem of your shirt. “C’mon, your turn.”

“H-huh?”

Even when Jeonghan gave you head in the past, you always kept your shirt on. He, too, had never stripped down in front of you like this. Surely, you were expecting this to happen, but the thought of being fully naked in front of Jeonghan was intimidating. It felt like you two were reaching a level of intimacy and closeness that you thought was unattainable months prior.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I already know you’re not wearing a bra. You've gone braless for, like, almost a week now.”

You raised a suspicious brow at him. “You were staring at my tits?”

“No comment.”

Jeonghan placed his slender hands on your waist, squeezing your sides comfortingly as you pulled your shirt off over your head. He watched you with marvel in his eyes, eyes trained on the swell of your breasts. He leaned close to press soft kisses against the skin, whispering praise as he did so. You didn’t peg the demon to be so romantic, but you weren’t complaining.

You heard gentle pattering outside your window while Jeonghan kissed down your chest.

“It’s raining,” you whispered. The two of you broke apart for a brief moment while Jeonghan hastily got rid of his pants and boxers. “An angel’s crying.”

You looked to the side, and you nearly had to look away before Jeonghan could notice how flustered you looked. The demon stood in all his glory. You had seen naked men before, but Jeonghan was, of course, a creature beyond human comprehension. He was the most gorgeous being you had ever come across.

And, strangely enough, for the first time, you didn’t feel that uncontrollable tug of desire when you looked at him. You weren’t compelled to drop to your knees and submit to the demon. Your attraction felt innate, much like how the rain falls so naturally from the sky. Not that Jeonghan ever had you under a spell or anything, but it almost felt like he was becoming more human.

Whether that meant he was losing his powers or was growing accustomed to living as a human, you had no idea.

“You’re beautiful,” he admitted, looking down at you like you were the stars in the night sky.

“Thanks,” you replied shyly.

“That’s your reaction?” He beamed, amused. “Well, whatever. I’d rather you save your voice for when I make you scream, human.”

You thought it would be impossible at this point, but your cheeks grew even hotter. Yet, you couldn’t even chide the demon because he was already getting over you, promptly attacking your neck with more kisses.

You were a soaking mess already, so Jeonghan’s fingers slid into your cunt with ease. You were taken aback yourself by how effortless it was, but you figured two fingers couldn’t hold a candle to the girth of his cock.

You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch how Jeonghan fingered you. Both of you stared at the spot where his fingers disappeared in you, and the sight only turned you on even more. For once, Jeonghan was pleasuring someone else without the favor being returned, yet you had never seen him so satiated. He was thriving off of your moans and cries, like the sounds itself were feeding him.

A moan escaped your lips, fragmenting off into broken whimpers as Jeonghan’s fingers sped up. You felt your thighs start to shake—the preamble of your orgasm building up. Heat bloomed under your skin, and you dug your nails into the demon’s shoulders to warn him.

The warning only spurred him to move his fingers faster—in scissoring motions this time. His thumb found purchase on your clit, circling the ball of nerves slowly. Finally, you fell off the edge, crying out in ecstasy as boundless pleasure tore through your body. Your mind went blank, thinking about nothing but how good you felt. It was like you were bathed in heavenly light.

“I got you,” Jeonghan murmured, kissing the spot under your ear.

If you had half the mind to kick him in the shin, you would. Pretending to comfort you while torturing your swollen clit throughout your orgasm was pure evil. You expected no less from a demon.

���Will you do me a favor and fuck me already?” you asked, exasperated. For good measure, you flattened your palm against his stomach and slid your hand down his abs.

“Alright. Beg for it.”

You balked. “W-what?”

“You want me to fuck you that bad? Then beg for it,” he said with an air of haughtiness. You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but the man didn’t budge. “I’m waiting.”

“I am not begging you, that’s so—” You paused. Jeonghan raised a brow, prompting you to continue, so you admitted, “It’s embarrassing!”

He shrugged. “I think we’re both past the point of being embarrassed in front of each other, human.”

You sucked in a sharp breath. “Okay, fine. You want me to beg? I’ll beg.” You laid back down, looping your arms around Jeonghan’s neck once more and pulling him close. “I’ve been waiting months for you to fuck me, so please make me feel good and I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” The mischievous glint in his eyes was unmistakable.

“I’ll be good.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” you whined, the agitation growing in your chest. “I’ll be a good girl, okay? I’ll be really, really good.”

“Alright, I’m sold.”

Jeonghan pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting out a light laugh before his demeanor completely shifted. His easygoing smile turned into a proud smirk when he practically folded you in half, throwing one of your legs over his shoulders so that he could line himself up to your entrance. He hummed, teasing your folds with the head of his cock.

You wanted to cry out, to push at his chest and beg him to just fuck you already. All of the teasing had you at your tipping point, and you were about to complain until you felt the tip of Jeonghan’s cock enter you slowly.

Your breath hitched. He hadn’t even completely entered you, and you were already throbbing at the thought of his cock inside you. Jeonghan used one hand to hold your hips down, pushing into you slowly but surely. You could tell he didn’t want to rush or hurt you, so he kept his eyes trained on your face the entire time, gauging whether to proceed based off your reactions.

“Sorry,” he apologized, placing a kiss against your stomach as he continued pushing his way inside you until he bottomed out. Your eyes nearly rolled back once he was fully inside, and all you could do was clench around him until he growled. “Hold still.”

“Keep going,” you begged, holding onto him like he was your anchor. If you let go of him, you were sure you would fall apart.

Jeonghan simpered, looking quite delighted as he started rocking his hips slowly. It seemed as though he was waiting for you to get adjusted to his size. Despite all, you were still clenching around his cock occasionally, leaving him holding onto you tighter and groaning into the crook of your neck. Jeonghan sped up his thrusts and left a bruising grip on your hips.

“You like that?” he asked, and, lord, you nearly came for the second time just by his words.

“Jeonghan!” you cried out, nearly gasping the words. “I… I want—”

“Want what?” he cut you off smoothly, smirking down at your disheveled appearance. He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust. “What do you want, princess?”

You whimpered. “I do wanna be your girlfriend.”

He froze for a moment, stunned. Apparently, that wasn’t the route he was expecting you to take.

Then, the demon’s shock wore off and was replaced with a warm smile. “Yeah?” he asked, leaning down to meet your lips in a sweet kiss. He pulled away to look into your eyes. “I’d be honored to be your boyfriend, Y/N.”

It was like clockwork—the way your orgasm hit you at that very moment. You tightened around him uncontrollably, the sporadic motions causing Jeonghan to cum as well. He pulled out right before his climax, ropes of cum spilling onto your stomach. You watched it pool together with hazy, unfocused eyes, still dazed from your orgasm and sudden confession.

Jeonghan was your boyfriend now.

“I see why mortal men are such fools for women,” Jeonghan said once he collapsed next to you. “If sex is always this good, I would start wars, too.”

“You’re a demon prince. You’ve started wars, anyway.”

“Oh, right.”

Afterward, you taught Jeonghan a thing or two about aftercare. The concept was completely foreign to him, so you informed him that good boyfriends took care of their girlfriends after sex. When Jeonghan told you to just grab a tissue and call it a day, you had to scold him to get him to clean you up.

To your surprise, Jeonghan did a satisfactory job. You half-expected him to do the absolute bare minimum, but you could definitely see that he was trying his best.

So, you bestowed upon him the highest honor: allowing him to sleep with you in your bed.

Jeonghan got under the sheets beside you, wrapping an arm around you once you cozied up to him. It was strange how comfortable you felt with him, especially considering he was your assigned demon. In some parallel universe, you and Jeonghan might have been normal people with normal lives, and you two probably felt the same level of closeness as you did right now.

Neither of you could sleep right away. Jeonghan traced patterns along your arm and you told him countless stories about your childhood. He smiled fondly, intently listening to the life you lived before him.

Later, he kissed you, and, between bated breaths, whispered promises of forever. And eventually, the soft trickling of rain lulled you both to sleep.

You woke up freezing.

At first, you thought Jeonghan had stolen the blanket. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for the Prince of Greed to be, well, greedy. However, considering your limbs were entangled with his, that didn’t seem to be the case.

The feeling was awfully familiar. It was the same sub-zero temperature you experienced when Jeonghan appeared in your room the first time. However, it was brief this time, dissipating as soon as it started.

Although you couldn’t identify the strange man who materialized in the center of your room, you had a good idea of who it was.

“Oh, Belphegor,” Jeonghan greeted without a care in the world, confirming your suspicions immediately. You were amazed that the half-naked demon was completely unfazed by his demon friend coming out of nowhere. Maybe this was just a regular morning for their kind. “About time you showed up.”

Belphegor made a noncommittal sound. “Yeah, well…”

“I can’t believe it took you centuries to fetch the Hand.”

“I was going to do it,” he said, “but then I didn’t want to.”

Jeonghan groaned. “You idiot.”

You gathered up the bedsheets, making sure to cover yourself fully before turning your attention back to the two demons. Maybe if you acted like everything about this situation was normal, it would distract from the fact that you only had a blanket to cover your naked body. The stranger seemed to have no interest in you whatsoever, so you figured he wouldn’t think anything of you and Jeonghan sleeping together.

“Jeonghan!” you hissed, glowering at your startled boyfriend. “It wouldn’t kill you to wake me up?”

“Oh, Y/N,” he started, seeming pleased with himself. He gestured toward the demon next to him, who looked like he had just rolled out of bed himself. “This is Belphegor, but you can call him by his human name: Wonwoo.”

“Nice to meet you,” you said cautiously.

“Hi.”

There was clearly no room for conversation between you two.

“Anyway,” Wonwoo continued, shooting Jeonghan a curious look, “what’re you gonna do with the key? You’re not opening the Outerverse, are you?”

Jeonghan shook his head. “I’m not gonna release the Outer Gods, I’m—”

“Well, that’s good to know,” Wonwoo cut him off, clearly uninterested in the conversation. “Now that I know you’re not trying to kill us all, I’ll get going.”

“Yeah, okay, good talk.”

Later in the day, you sat on the floor of your living room with Jeonghan and Seokmin. Jeonghan was giving him a rundown of Belphegor’s visit, which didn’t take very long considering he was there for a grand total of nine moments. You almost made an offhand comment about how Jeonghan didn’t give you any time to get dressed, but that would have exposed what went down between you two last night.

Neither of you had even mentioned to Seokmin about sealing the deal.

“Alright, so,” the Quartarion started, “how does this work?”

Jeonghan pulled out a ten dollar bill, a deformed-looking Twinkie, and a tiny bottle of bath salts from the pocket of his sweater. He laid them out carefully around the Right Hand of Doom before looking up at you and Seokmin. A smug grin spread across his face, but you and the angel were flabbergasted.

“A Twinkie?” you asked.

“He likes sweets,” was the extent of Jeonghan’s explanation.

“Primordial Outer God of space-time likes Twinkies. Good to know.”

“And the ten dollars?” Seokmin asked.

“He likes money, too,” Jeonghan said. Before either of you could question the bath salts, he pointed to the bottle and added, “These are just for the vibes.”

Nice.

“Anyway,” Jeonghan continued, “these types of invocations usually require human sacrifices or something along those lines.” Seokmin and him glanced in your direction at the same time, and you shot them each an icy glare. Jeonghan coughed into his fist. “We’re obviously not sacrificing you. I’m just saying he’s more likely to answer me because I’m a demon prince.”

Seokmin looked on edge. “So… are we starting?”

“I don’t want Y/N in the room,” Jeonghan answered.

“What?” you asked, shocked at the sudden dismissal. “Why?”

“He’s so powerful—even knowing of his existence can drive some mortals insane,” Jeonghan muttered darkly. “Seokmin should be fine since he’s an angel, but there’s a chance you’d go mad if you heard his voice, so stay back until I say so.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You were already starting to get to your feet the second he mentioned mortals going insane.

“I’ll stand in the hallway, then,” you decided, far too curious to lock yourself in one of the rooms.

You watched as Jeonghan and Seokmin took each other’s hands quietly and exchanged a silent nod of understanding before closing their eyes. Jeonghan then started reciting some strange incantation that was far more complicated than the one you used to summon him. It seemed to drag on for close to a minute before the air around them went still. It was as if they were trapped in a time vortex, suspended in space while all you could do was wait for them to be released.

You took careful steps backward until you were against the wall, and then you sank down to the floor. As much as you tried to calm your nerves, you were riddled with anxiety. You had to physically hold your thigh down to keep it from bouncing.

Jeonghan didn’t tell you how exactly this would go. Hell, he probably didn’t know himself. Because you were so unaware, though, you weren’t sure if what was happening right now was normal or not. The two men weren’t even twitching or breathing; they were like still images.

Minutes stretched on. You weren’t sure how long it had been, but each passing second felt longer than it should have been. There was nothing you could do but wait. Stare at the motionless air around the two boys and wait.

It had probably been around half an hour when Seokmin’s eyes shot open with a loud gasp. You scrambled to your feet immediately, badgering the poor boy with questions to find out what happened while he was just trying to catch his breath. Jeonghan, on the other hand, looked the very image of tranquility when he opened his eyes.

“What is it?” you kept asking. “What happened?”

Seokmin had a strange, distant look in his eyes. He tried to speak several times, but no words came out.

“Could you get him something warm to drink, Y/N?” Jeonghan asked. “I think he’s in shock.”

“I’ll—I’ll make some tea,” you stammered, stumbling over your feet before you could start walking properly. “How about you? Are you—” You stopped yourself once you saw the hint of fear in Jeonghan’s eyes, and it chilled your blood. You couldn’t even fathom what they had just gone through. “I’ll get you a cup, too.”

It took two hours for the two men to recover—slowly but surely. You brought them tea and gave them time to process what they had just been through. It mainly consisted of you sitting to the side and keeping yourself from asking any questions. You figured they’d tell you if they wanted, but you weren’t in any position to press them.

Jeonghan seemed to feel bad for letting Seokmin tag along. He kept glancing at the angel with sad eyes, seeming remorseful. Then, he turned his attention to you. To your surprise, he walked over to where you sat on the couch to sit next to you and lay his head on your shoulder.

“Hey,” you called softly. “Are you feeling better?”

He nodded, although he didn’t look you in the eyes. “You should probably go to your room. Yog-Sothoth told us he’s thinking about my request, so he could be making up his mind any minute now.”

“You’re going back?”

“I guess. It was more like my consciousness was transported there instead of my physical body.”

He said it like it should have been no big deal, but the two were clearly unsettled by their visit. You weren’t sure how to feel about them going back. It could break Seokmin for good. Even though he was an angel-blood, he didn’t have the power that Jeonghan had.

“The fact that he listened to Jeonghan’s request means that he’s considering it,” Seokmin spoke up after a period of silence between you three. “It’s a good thing you didn’t go, Y/N. The Outerverse is the most terrifying realm I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been to Alabama.”

You smiled a little. At least he seemed to be feeling more at ease now.

“They say Yog-Sothoth exists beyond our reality, so he can possibly see other streams of reality that aren’t connected to the branches of Creation,” Jeonghan explained. “That sounds insane, right? When you’re in the Outerverse seeing those pockets of different realities… it can make you go a little crazy. I mean, I’d give Hell a five star Yelp review over the Outerverse.”

Seokmin tucked his head in his folded arms. “I never wanna go to that place again.”

“Well, I’m not exactly planning to have my next birthday party there.”

“Mammon,” a voice boomed in your ears, and the sound itself was weird.​​ There were undertones of echoes in its words, and you couldn’t even tell if the voice was in your head or not.

You didn’t have to ask who it was because the fear in Seokmin’s eyes was unmistakable. Jeonghan straightened up, panicked, but you assumed it was because you were still in the room because he swiftly placed his hands over your ears in an attempt to muffle the sound. You weren’t sure it would help, but you did feel safer that way.

“God of Time, I appreciate your presence.”

“I’ve decided to accept your offer,” Yog-Sothoth said. His voice sounded louder, even with Jeonghan’s hands over your ears. “I’ll help you.”

There was a way.

He removed his hands from the sides of your head, and you sat up straight again. You never thought those four words would light up so much hope inside you, but here you were, beaming like an idiot next to your demon boyfriend. There was a hope for a future between you and Jeonghan—hope that you two could live out the rest of your lives as humans. More importantly, there was hope that you two could live out the rest of your lives together.

For a moment, you were filled with doubt. There was so much at stake for this decision, and you couldn’t fathom someone loving you so much that they would give their world up for you.

“Jeonghan,” you murmured, “are you sure about giving up immortality?”

“I’d rather live a short life with you than spend the rest of eternity longing for what we could have had,” he declared with a fire blazing in his eyes. “I don’t want forever if it’s not with you, Y/N.”

His soft words coupled with his fierce gaze only sent butterflies to the pit of your stomach. You were hopeless when it came to Jeonghan; whatever he said left you like putty in his hands.

“Jeonghan,” Seokmin whispered, looking fearful. He was pointing at the makeshift summoning circle. “The Twinkie’s gone.”

So, the primordial Outer God of space-time was helping Jeonghan out because of a Twinkie. You decided against questioning why the all-powerful being was about to manipulate the fabric of reality over an over-glorified sponge cake.

“But,” Yog-Sothoth’s voice echoed in your ears as he spoke, “for this exchange, I require a sacrifice.”

“A sacrifice?” Jeonghan asked, frowning. “The Twinkie—”

“No, Mammon, not the Twinkie. I want you to bring me a loved one; an eye for an eye.”

You frowned. Jeonghan could split his soul into two—one residing in his demon form in Hell, and the other residing in his human body here—but he had to sacrifice someone he loved? You couldn’t understand how this was a fair exchange; he was already giving up a part of him for this ordeal.

“Sacrifice a loved one in exchange for what I want,” Jeonghan echoed, a faraway look in his eyes. “I’ve seen this before.”

“You have?” Your eyebrows narrowed. “When?”

“Avengers: Endgame.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Dude,” Seokmin chimed in, and you were starting to think you were the only one who understood the gravity of the situation. “This is literally Thanos sacrificing Gamora for the Soul Stone.”

“Stop embarrassing us in front of the Outer God!” you whispered harshly.

“Well,” Jeonghan started, his tone growing serious again, “I’m sure you know my choice.”

“Yes, I do.” Yog-Sothoth hummed, and something about it seemed calculative. You wanted to interject and ask Jeonghan what the hell he was talking about, but you felt like you were immobilized. “Very well, then.”

You looked at Seokmin to see if he understood what was going on, but he seemed just as confused as you were. Jeonghan just stared ahead, refusing to look either of you in the eye, and panic rose in your throat. You wanted to trust him, to confidently know that he wasn’t choosing you or Seokmin, but you really didn’t know who else it could have been.

Like Jeonghan told you before, demons didn’t care about anyone or anything. Only you and Seokmin were able to crack him open.

That was why horrifying realization was drawn across both of your faces. Jeonghan was choosing either you or Seokmin, and considering you were the reason he wanted to be mortal in the first place, you were terrified he was going to sacrifice Seokmin. And it seemed like Seokmin was terrified of that possibility, too.

You stood up and grabbed his shoulder. “Jeonghan, you—”

But before you could get any words out, you were sinking and the ground was swallowing you whole.

Everything went dark, and then silence followed.

You had gone under anesthesia once in your life. It was back when you were thirteen and the doctors had to perform an appendectomy on you. Being sedated didn’t feel like sleeping at all; it felt like closing your eyes and then waking up to a weird jumpcut in your memory. You remembered being extremely disoriented at first, not even realizing what had just happened to you.

Now, as your eyes fluttered open, you felt the same way.

You were tucked in your bed, which had to have been impossible because you were in the living room when everything turned black. You sat up to gather your bearings. Your head was a mess for a second, unable to focus on one thing at a time.

Jeonghan. Seokmin. Yog-Sothoth. Twinkies. Sacrifice.

The words etched themselves in your bones until you felt dread seep in. If you were still in your bed, completely unharmed, that meant Jeonghan had gotten rid of Seokmin. You looked down at your hands, and you realized they were shaking before you could stop yourself.

“Jeonghan!” you yelled, furious. Before he could hurry to your room, you stormed out, fighting back tears. Just as you thought, he was rushing down the hallway to see you, but you weren’t in the mood for a happy reunion. “How could you?!”

He looked confused. “Didn’t… didn’t you want this? I’m human now, Y/N.” A bright smile broke across his face. “Yog-Sothoth split my soul, so Mammon’s back in Hell where he belongs, but I’m here to stay as a human.”

You punched his shoulder. Hard.

“Okay, ow,” he complained. “Y/N, I—”

“Don’t,” you warned. Your voice was wavering and you could feel your throat closing up. “I don’t wanna hear it after what you did to Seokmin. You promised me you wouldn’t kill him!”

As if on cue, the angel-blood, who was supposed to be dead, peaked into the hallway from where he was in the living room. He had a bowl of ice cream in his hands, shaking his head at you repeatedly.

“I’m not dead,” he clarified, even though you could very clearly see that. “I’m alive.”

“Oh.” You had to take a step back because now, you were more confused than ever. “You’re alive.”

“You sound disappointed. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna steal your boyfriend.”

“I’m not! I’m… really fucking confused—wait, you found out we’re dating, too?” You turned to look up at Jeonghan. “Wait, so who’d you sacrifice, then? What happened after I blacked out? I feel like I’m so in the dark right now.”

Jeonghan looked down at his feet, suddenly glum. “I sacrificed my pet.”

“Mount Fu—I mean, Doljjong? I thought it was dead already?”

“No, my other pet.” He showed you his phone screen, which was on an article about Mount Vesuvius going extinct. “Jjongddol.”

“Oh, another rock.” You tried to sound sympathetic, but it was hard to feel bad for a volcano. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“He’s not even sad about it!” Seokmin argued, pointing his spoon at Jeonghan in an accusatory manner. “He gaslit the Time God!”

Jeonghan huffed. “I am sad, okay! Just because it took me a while to remember his name doesn’t mean I don’t have fond memories with Doljjong!”

“Jjongddol,” you corrected.

“Oh, right—Jjongddol!”

You smiled, taking his face into your hands. “You know what this means, though?”

Jeonghan looked at you, eyebrows lifting in pleasant surprise. “What?”

(“Oh, Christ, they’re gonna start making out,” Seokmin muttered and hurried back to the couch. “I’m gonna look for movies on the TV, Jeonghan!”)

“It means we finally have all the time in the world to ourselves, Yoon Jeonghan.” You got on your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips, which he reciprocated almost immediately. “I’m a little sad I don’t have a guardian demon anymore, though, even if he sucked at his job.”

“Hey, I didn’t suck!” He pouted a little, which you laughed at. “Now, though, you get to show me how to be a proper human.”

“Oh, shoot. We need to find you a place to live since my lease only allows one person, and then we need to figure out getting your documents in order, and then—”

Jeonghan cut you off with a laugh. “I’m on board for all that, but I’d really like to celebrate my new life right now by watching a movie with my best friend and girlfriend.” He slung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer, and you couldn’t help but giggle. “And then tonight I’d like to—”

“Alright, alright!” you interjected, feeling your face go hot. “You know, the demon part of you might be gone power-wise, but I don’t know about personality-wise.”

“You love it, though.”

“Jeonghan, let’s watch Superbad!” Seokmin called from the living room.

“Okay!” Jeonghan turned to you and held out his hand. “Come on. I heated up popcorn and even put in some jalapeños for you.”

“Hey.” You stopped him, and you weren’t exactly sure why, but you felt so overwhelmed by your emotions at the moment. There were so many forces against you two, yet you still managed to fight the odds. A constant storm you both battled to stay together, and only now you felt like you could finally breathe. So, when Jeonghan looked at you, the words came out naturally. “I love you.”

He looked at you for a moment, before his face broke into one of those heartbreakingly beautiful smiles again. “I love you, too, Y/N.”

Now it was your time to smile and grab his hand. “Let’s go watch that movie.”

“Oh, is Y/N watching with us?” Seokmin asked.

“This may come as a shock, but this happens to be my apartment, Seokmin.”

And, as you three watched the movie, you and Jeonghan kept your hands interlocked, unwilling to let go. You thought it was beautiful how two hands could touch and forge a bond like no other. It must have been why you and Jeonghan had made it past every obstacle that came hurtling your way.

In some parallel universe out there, some stream of reality that didn’t branch from Creation, you and Jeonghan were probably normal people who found each other naturally. In that world, neither of you had to go through all the pain and suffering to find each other, to finally end up in each other’s arms. 

But you would choose this reality over that one every single time. You would go through all the trails and tribulations for Jeonghan however many times you needed to because, at the end of the day, the love you two had for each other couldn’t compare to any other reality out there. 

And you would never admit it out loud, but he was right; your guardian demon didn’t totally suck at his job.

[wesstars]

hot on your lips

tara carpenter x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: her hands are on your shoulders, and the next thing you know, your back is pressed to the bed, and tara’s rocking her weight on top of you. she leans in close, breath as soft as her skin against your lips, breathing out a quiet ‘yes.’ wc: 3.0k tags: explicit, minors DNI!! no-ghostface au bc i didn’t feel like fitting it in. bad dirty talk, top!reader and bottom!tara, needy!tara, D/s dynamics, reader is a little tiny bit of a sadist (as a treat,) sex on camera, exhibitionism and voyeurism, mild restraint, mild degradation, horribly excessive use of italics a/n: am I back?? idk how i feel about this. thank you to @evilwednesday for helping me out w the cover image & the title :)

masterlist

Tara’s in your arms before her bag even hits the floor.

You’re so, so glad the hallway is empty as she nearly bowls you over in the doorway of your shared apartment, peppering your face with kisses. You lift her up and give her a spin, pressing your lips to hers—it’s pure comfort, after so many long months of Tara’s school semester. Long distance was a real bitch sometimes, but Tara reminded you every day of how it was all worth it. In fact, you’d felt as if what you had with her was made more real by the distance so often between you. But now, she’s in your arms, finally, and you nudge her suitcase inside with your foot, bending to grab the backpack she’d discarded.

Pulling back, she speaks, so soft and shy it nearly makes your heart burst. “Hi.”

“Tara,” you breathe, “I thought—I wasn’t supposed to go pick you up from ORD until—”

“There was a change of plans,” she interrupts, palms on your cheeks to pull you into a bruising kiss. You feel yourself practically melt into her, like a docile dog in a firm hand. You set her bag down, just managing to not drop it. “I took an earlier flight-” her lips are on yours again- “Couldn’t wait.”

“Couldn’t wait… for what?”

“This.” She slips her tongue into your mouth, all hot and velvet on your teeth. God, the way it felt to miss her was addictive, but this was a million times better. Grabbing blindly, you miss the door handle a few times as you’re distracted by her soft lips, finally managing to slam the door shut. Shifting your strong hands to the soft crease of her ass and thigh, you bump your teeth into hers in your eagerness, but she doesn’t seem to mind. You walk her into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind you. 

Tara smells like the airport and outside wind, something uniquely New York caught in her hair. She pulls back for only a second to reach around, drop her jacket and shoes, leaving her in just a shirt and comfy sweats. Her palms are sun-warm on your cheek and your neck; any place that she could touch was fair game for her. Your mind feels hazy already—it makes it hard to focus as you try to maneuver around furniture you could navigate in the dark, Tara’s presence more than disarming. Part of you wants to slow down, ask her how her semester went, but the smarter, Tara-influenced majority of you knows that with the way she was pulling at you and your heart, she would straight up kill you if you did that. You’re all too happy to oblige her, kissing her back for every day that she’d been gone. 

“I missed you,” she whispers as she pulls on the collar of your shirt, even though you’re pressed so close already. She’s feather-light in your arms as you carry her down the hallway, nearly stumbling through the bedroom door. You let her down to stand between your feet, freeing your hands to cup her jaw. The curve of Tara’s face is as familiar as the way her nose brushes against yours, soft. It only takes a second, really, but with just her scraping her nails on the back of your neck, you’re wanting, enough to hold her tight and feel her melt against you. 

Tara nearly topples the both of you when she grabs your shirt again and pulls. You just barely catch yourself from crushing her against the bed—but as always, she takes you by surprise, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and slanting her mouth against yours to deepen the kiss. The look in her half-lidded eyes as you peek down at her tells you all you need to know about her intentions. With the way you were kissing up on her, anyone would think that you’d been apart for years, not months, but god knows you couldn’t get enough. 

It’s near obscene, the press of your tongue against hers, but with all of the urgency built from the past few months, it only serves to split you open. As quick as it began, your kiss, broken by barely a gasp for air, turns heated and hungry. It’s filthy, and the urge to spit in her mouth and make her swallow is more than a fleeting thought. Instead, you force her thighs open with your hips, grabbing her ass and pulling her close.

Under her sweats, you can feel the edges of fabric underneath, and you grin, skimming your hands lower. You furrow your brow when you feel a telltale band of elastic, and your hands tighten on her thighs.

“Tara-” your voice comes out a rasp- “are you wearing thigh highs?” You’re nearly dizzy with how much blood rushes from your head to your stomach, pooling low and hot.

“I know you like them.” Tara smiles a little, impishly, but she looks down to your hands instead of your eyes. You know her—she’s looking for confirmation that she’s right, that she hadn’t overstepped in wearing something for you. In your mind, it’s absurd of her to even entertain this sort of thing, the way it sends a tingle up your spine. But Tara needs it, and you’re more than eager to please. You trail your fingers to her waistband, pulling her sweats down and off to expose her. Your grip on her hips is tight and squeezing, holding her in a way that’s unmistakable as want.

You cock your head, ignoring how loud your heart runs. “Oh, yeah? Is that why you’re matching again?” You take her hand, slide your thumb over her fingernails, in gel black. The sheer fabric is the same shade, soft as sin against your palms. Briefly, you consider tearing them apart, seeing the ruin of tatters against her skin—but her little whimper as you trace your fingers where her thighs spill out over the top makes you change your mind.

She’s breathing hard from just the kissing, and when she sighs into your mouth, you’re reminded of the way she’d boldly suggested, your blushing cheeks visible even on FaceTime, that you let her take a souvenir back to her apartment. Tara had complained that she was bored, in a way that homework couldn’t solve, her wide eyes telling you that was as true as could be. You never could back down from a challenge, no matter how warm it made you feel—that was why there was currently an old camera sitting on the bedroom table. You smile, biting your tongue.

“Remember what you said that night, baby?”

You point to the other end of the room, to the camera there, mocking. You expect her to laugh, to shake her head with an exasperated fondness, and push her lips back on yours. Instead, she freezes, swallowing. Her grip on your biceps tightens.

“Tara?”

She turns her gaze to you, and in the half-light you see that her pupils are blown, wide in a sort of disbelieving arousal. It hooks you in, a tug in your stomach, as your mind fills with only Tara. 

“Tara…” you repeat, “do you remember?” She’s quiet, a blush rising steadily to her cheeks. “‘Don’t you wish you could see what you do to me,’” you tease, leaning in close. “You want me to watch you, right? Well, doll, there’s a camera right there.”

“I—” Tara nearly protests, but oh, her flush, the way her hips move so subtly, is telling enough for you. Not letting her hesitate anymore, you grab her shoulders, flipping her so she’s under you. She fits perfectly, holding you up just as much as you’re holding her down.

“You’re gonna watch this when you’re alone, right?” You tease, trailing a hand down her arm to push her wrists above her head with one hand. In your daze, you know her tells as well as you know that drag of desire in your stomach, and so you already know that she’s— “You’re gonna watch this and rut that needy pussy on your hand, is that it?”

It’s your turn to look for confirmation—distantly, it rings in your mind that you must’ve lost your mind, to be talking to Tara like this, but what’s more apparent to you is the moan that escapes from her mouth, the way her eyes slide shut.

“Yeah,” she breathes, something shameless in the twist of her brow as she arches her back. Her nipples press into your chest, hard through her thin shirt, her knees falling open even more. She’s warm, underwear just clinging to her and leaving nothing to imagination. “I’ll watch it whenever you want me to.”

“You will,” you laugh, something deep and dark. “But when you touch, you’ll let me know when you’re gonna come, okay? So I know that you’ve stopped, like a good girl.” You grind your hips between her thighs, watching her breath catch. It’s a soft, bated moment, but something cracks in the air, nearly audible. The shift between the two of you is a familiar one, apparent in the way that she clings harder to you, presenting her chest, the column of her throat, the tilt of her jaw. 

“I will,” she says obediently, her pleading gaze making you grin. “I’ll stop, I’ll touch myself, whatever you want—”

Just as quick, you’re pushing yourself off of her. The room is quiet, save for your footsteps and Tara’s breaths, adorably shaky. The camera is easy to set up, even if you do chance a look at her one too many times. You’re back by her side, and you both watch the red light, winking back at you.

You sit down next to Tara, trailing your hand up and down her stomach. “I’ll tell you every dirty little thing I’d like to do to you, if you’re patient,” you whisper in her ear, something meant for only her to hear.

Her hands are on your shoulders, and the next thing you know, your back is pressed to the bed, and Tara’s rocking her weight on top of you. She leans in close, breath as soft as her skin against your lips, breathing out a quiet ‘yes.’ Giving a little twist that not-so-accidentally presses her heat against the seam of your jeans, she pulls her shirt and bra off in one miraculous motion. You touch her skin, smooth and warm and hot, and you just know she enjoys how your eyes can’t help but drop lower, your hands nearly following. She leans in to kiss you again, the ends of her hair tickling your collar. You both pull back, and you take a second to just look at her, and you can see how she’s been. School was long and difficult, it’s in the set of her eyes, and you want to know more, despite the burn in your stomach. 

But with the way she’s looking back at you, white little teeth worrying at her lip, you all but smile.

“Alright, pretty girl,” you tease, “what is it, now?” She whines when your hands meet her chest, rolling her nipples between your fingers. “C’mon, tell me.”

It comes more easily than you expect, and it drops molten heat into your chest. “I wanna ride your face,” she whispers. You grab for her hips, tight. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.” 

Glancing over at the red light, you bite down a groan. “Do you think you deserve it?”

“Yes, yes—” she’s already straining against your grip, trying to crawl her way up your body.

“That’s for me to decide, Tara.”

She keens, but she drops her head to watch your hands on her—she’s sensitive—as she pants. You shush her, sliding your thigh between hers. It must catch on her in just the right way, because she’s tensing up in your arms, fingers digging into your shoulders. 

“You’re looking so desperate,” you laugh, glad she can’t see the flush on your cheeks.

“I am.” Her bold declaration stops your heart in your chest; you know she’s telling the truth. 

“So say ‘please,’” you murmur, head spinning.

Her eyes are glossy when she finally looks at you. “Please…”

“Very good,” you say patiently. You lean up to kiss her, sucking her bottom lip none too gently. “Why don’t you beg a little?”

You see how the false hope makes her tears so willing to spill out. Her hips rut on your thigh, with no rhyme or rhythm—you’re practically begging yourself to help her, but you hold back.

“Please,” she says again, taking a ragged breath. “Please, want your tongue in me—”

“Louder, Tara,” you snap, threading a hand in her hair and pulling her head up, none too gently. You force her to look in the camera, watching her pupils dilate as she stares down the lens. “I want you to be reminded of what a whiny bitch you are.”

“Want you to eat me out,” she whines to the camera, closing her eyes against the redness in her cheeks. “Want…” The next time she says it, it's louder—you release Tara’s hips to pull her panties off, nearly tearing them when she shifts up the bed at the same moment. 

It makes you ache, being so close to touching Tara, her scent heady and thick, ensconcing your every sense. Her hands grab the headboard as you wrap your arms around her thighs to pull her closer to your lips. She’s practically shaking in her anticipation, and truthfully, it’s hard for you to wait any longer. You trace your tongue across the stretch marks on her inner thighs, and then straight to her cunt. She’s all velvet and honey against you, as you eagerly run your tongue up and down, savoring what you’ve missed. It’s so intoxicatingly good that you nearly miss the way she cries out, your name a shameless prayer. 

You miss her weight on your chest as her back arches, and immediately you’re tracing the dip in her spine. Irrevocably, you’re watching her every move as you tease at her clit, making her rut her hips against your face, chasing friction.

“Fuck,” she says on an exhale, breaking the word into two damning syllables, just like the ba-dum of your heart. Tara tears her hand from the headboard, threading her fingers into your hair to pull you closer. It’s a gesture that you should chastise her for, but you can’t bring yourself to resist her.

“That’s it, pretty girl.” You wrap your lips around her clit and ease two fingers in at the same time—she’s so wet it doesn’t take much to get them in. When you look up at her, the glazed expression on her face is something sated and satisfied, like chocolate wouldn’t ever melt in her mouth. A lazy grin graces her lips, a dusty pink rising up on her cheeks as she squirms against you, adjusting easily to the familiar stretch. 

Somehow, you can feel in your gut that she’s being good for the camera, and you can’t bring yourself to take your time. You want everything at once, to make her come over and over again into your waiting mouth, greed your only sin since you were so far past lust, falling into adoration and something dangerously like—

“Please.” It spills out of Tara’s mouth, golden and warm.

“You’ve been saying ‘please’ an awful lot, Tara.”

You wrap your hand, the one not knuckle deep in Tara’s cunt, around her thigh. Squeezing, you felt the soft stockings against your palm as you guided her hips to rock into you, your fingers and your tongue. You wanted her to feel whenever she’d play the video back, for her to be able to memorize fucking your mouth, so no matter the distance, she’d remember. As if on cue, her moan echoes around the walls, in your mind. 

“The camera’s gonna pick that up, you know.” Your voice is rough, out of breath with how warm it is to be under Tara.

Her voice is tight, choked. “I know, baby.” 

You don’t stop, only shifting slightly to get your thumb on her clit, so you can lean back. You swipe your tongue on your bottom lip, tasting her so sweet, and you watch her eyes, fading in and out of focus, tracking your motion.

“Gonna—”

“Tara,” you laugh, but it’s a warning. She whines, hips twitching, and you can see her lip between her teeth.

“Gonna—oh god—it’s—”

“Gonna what?” You mock, flexing your fingers. “You can do better than that.”

“Please, let me come?” Something warm unfurls in your chest at Tara knowing you want her to ask, your perfect girl, even when she’s so far gone.

“Why?” Your question makes Tara still her hips, which is saying something. “Why should I let you, baby?”

She’s quiet, and since you’ve always been weak for her, you take pity. Your heart’s racing, and the heat in your stomach craves to just see her.

“You’re so good for me, my love… why should I let you come?”

“Because—” Tara breaks off with a lovely little whine, and then it hits her. It breaks up into a floaty feeling in her stomach, like a plume of sparks. Her thighs are trembling around your head, and you lean up to smear her slick on your lips, nudging her clit. “Because I’m your good girl.”

“That’s it, doll,” you murmur. “Come for me, Tara.”

And Tara comes, white hot and tense against you, and in that moment, you think you believe in magic. You want to invent something new just to eternalize her with more than the camera, something more than memory. She’s breathing hard, and you wiggle yourself out from under her. Pliant in your arms, she’s quiet as you help her lay down gently on the covers. For you, your mind was anything but quiet. You think you could run anywhere just to feel Tara, and you can’t resist smiling. Crawling over to give her a peck on the lips, you think Tara’s done—she’s blinking sleepily, eyes flicking between you and the camera, so you move between her knees to shuffle her stockings off, skin against skin. You hear her clear her throat, breaking your trance of fondness.

You look up—you see Tara look to the camera again, and your eyes helplessly follow. She’s got a mischievous little quirk to her lips, like she just knows how bad you wanted to see her come, and…

“You’re gonna tell me those dirty things now, aren’t you?”

--

a/n cont'd: 🌝

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

[bluemusickid]

Private Chef! Joel thots

ok so I've had this idea lingering for a while now, and the SAG outfit has just FUELLEDDD more of my thots!!!

Side note: (He has never looked sexier, how dare he age this well; how am I supposed to go on with my life; this is absolutely not fair)

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!plus size! reader

Warnings: smut, mentions of sex, oral (f receiving), Joel Miller, 18+ only, minors DNI

Sharing a smallish drabble/thotty abstract, if you will:

Ok, so maybe Joel has joined your family as your private chef. After all, your parents are SUPER rich, so they might as well look and feel the part.

You had to admit, he was worth every penny your mother was paying him. Not to mention he was easy going on the eyes, which made your mother glad; she would parade him around her lavish parties to the "cougars"/bored rich housewives, something which made your eyes roll.

Little did they know that the ever so charming Joel was a FREAK with a capital "F" in the sack.

You honestly don't even remember how it happened. A few conversations here and there, he had offered to teach you how to cook and bake; and those lessons were often plagued by thoughts of him bending you over and having his way with you, leaving you throbbing and wanting. If you didn't know any better, you could tell that it was affecting him too. His voice got huskier, eyes darkening every time he looked your way. It was a game of chicken, almost, how long either of you could keep the distance before the inevitable damn bursting.

You had once gone to "ask" him "a cooking doubt", and saw quite a sight indeed. Gone was the prim and proper Joel, with his neatly ironed and clean apron and immaculate dress shirts. His curly hair was mussed up, his shirt slightly untucked and his top buttons undone; he seemed to be engrossed in a video, hie eyebrows scrunched together as his fingers kneaded some dough, prepping for tomorrow's party. It was honestly like porn, the way his strong arms kneaded the dough, his thick fingers making you nearly drool. It took all your strength to walk away from there before you embarrassed yourself and begged him to throw you to the ground and pound you into the ground, no matter how desperate that sounded.

And it had happened finally. Another one of your parents' shindigs, and you found yourself bored out of your mind, only half listening to one of your mom's friend's son, whose one semester in London had "like, totally changed his life." Excusing yourself, you made your way to the kitchen, topping off your drink.

You saw him there, again, making small talk with Angela, one of your mom's friends who just wouldn't take a hint. You'd never seen Joel this tense and yet Angela seemed oblivious, throwing herself at him, her screeching laugh loud enough to wake the dead.

You took pity on the man and made up an excuse on his behalf, beckoning him to join you, picking up a few wedges of limes on the way, an idea forming in your mind. He bid Angela goodbye, hurriedly following you before she engaged any further.

"...Whyyy are we going to your room?" He asked bewildered, hesistant as he stood at the threshold.

You shrugged, "figured you could use a proper drink, not the shit downstairs." Taking out two shotglasses, you handed him a rather large shot of Hendricks, your drink of choice to get "classy-drunk".

You toast, downing the smooth liquid as it left a slight burn. Wincing, you pour another, his eyes widening at the pour.

"I'm technically on duty."

"And i'm technically meant to like all the guys my mom has shown me, but life doesn't work that way, does it?" You quipped, clearly goading him.

One shot turned to two. Two to four. The party was long forgotten, the both of you pleasantly tipsy and unguarded. For the first time, it felt like Joel was opening up to you.

"If I didn't know any better, i'd say you were planning on getting me drunk, sweetheart." He drawled.

You smirked. Making your way towards him, you poured another shot, promising him it that it was the last one, and that he could go back to his job. He chuckled, knowing that he would a tough time walking to the kitchen, let alone serving the guests. Lucky that the crew took over for the rest of the night, huh?

Wincing, Joel blindly searched for the wedge of lime to soothe the burn. Opening his eyes, he saw your cheeky grin as you held the lime between your lips, challenging him to take the next step.

He nearly growled as he shuffled closer, your faces mere inches from one another. His fingers ghosted over your lips as he inched closer, his lips tasting the juice of the lime. Plucking the wedge from your lips, his mouth was on yours, urging you to open up for him. You groaned, tasting the citrusy hints of the gin along with the slight tang of the lime, your tongues weaving an intricate dance.

While the party downstairs was loud and had taken a rather raucous turn, up in your room, the only noise you could hear was the sound of harsh grunts and panting breaths.

When your mom had first hired Joel, you didn't understand exactly why she did so, because the chef you'd had earlier was perfectly fine. Now, you couldn't thank her enough for hiring him.

Joel had you pinned to your bedroom door, as he ate you out enthusiastically. Pulling your thigh on his shoulder, he doubled down on his efforts to get you to come undone. Running your fingers through his beautiful curls, you tugged on them as his wonderful tongue worked its magic on your swollen nub. He hummed, circling his finger around your center, urging you on.

Pulling your other leg on his shoulder, he moved to pick you up. You were uncertain about this, but he was insistant, picking you up like you weighed nothing at all. He didn't stop his ministrations as he dropped you on her bed, continuing his amorous assault.

This display of strength had you clenching and reaching your end in no time, as you moaned loudly, yanking on his curls to ground yourself.

"Oh baby, keep doing that, don't stop." He moaned, as he made his way up your body, leaving small kisses and nips along your thighs, your belly. He reached your breasts, taking a swollen nub in his mouth and sucking enthusiastically.

Looking down, you saw one of the most erotic sights ever. Joel worshipping you, his curls a wild mess, his pristine white shirt damp with your release and with a few buttons undone, coming untucked out of his tight black pants.

You groaned. You needed him so badly it practically hurt. Reaching down, you palmed him through his pants, as he thrust himself into your wandering hands.

Pulling his erect length out of his pants, you panted as you worked him over, stroking him as he moved his hips in tandem with your hands. His harsh breaths as he groaned and grunted through gritted teeth turned you on like nothing else.

"I'm close, sweetheart." He managed to blurt out, as you increased the speed of your strokes, tongue moving along his already sensitive head. He pulled his length from your grasp as he worked himself to his climax, yelling out and cursing as he came all over your breasts.

You were mildly disappointed that he held back from fucking you; hell, you were sure he was going to finally take that step and put you through the mattress.

"Joel, I need you. Please." You begged, the need to feel him fill you up dangerously high. You sounded pathetic, sure, but you were beyond caring at this point.

Joel smirked, catching his breath.

"I have to get back sweetheart. Your mom would kill me if she didn't see me in the kitchen."

You couldn't hide your frown as you watched him neaten up, running a hair through his curls. Joel leaving you high and dry was not how you saw your plan panning out. He was about to leave as he turned back, made his way to you, holding your chin between his fingers.

"But I promise you, this isn't over. Not by a long shot." He breathed against your lips, leaving a small peck as he left, leaving you weak and wanting for more.

Silently seething, you began to plot your next steps. Joel Miller wouldn't know what hit him.

Oh no i don't like it i don't think this is my best work but omg it's out there *runs and hides in a corner*

Will there be a part 2?? That's a great question. Honestly i think i could've done better so maybe i have a redemption arc as well lolol, who knows atp

[haologram]

araneae 🕸️ k.sy (teaser)

🕸️ synopsis: when you realize your friend (with benefits) actually has feelings for you, a tangled web of lies and avoidance ensues. 🕸️ genre: friends with benefits au ; big dummy dumb idiots to lovers because it's the only trope ever ; ta x student dynamics ; fluff, angst & eventual smut (surprise?) 🕸️ pairing: zoology ta!kwon soonyoung x marine biology major!reader | side pairings: joshua hong x sana minatozaki ; vernon chwe x roh jisun (fromis_9) ; mentions of reader x yuta nakamoto (nct) 🕸️ word count: 2.8k | full fic: i don't fuckin' know but hopefully under 20k. 🕸️ rating: 18+. minors do not interact i beg. 🕸️ warnings: mentions of knife play (none involved), alcohol, mentions of protected sex (dw it'll get freaky later), mentions of cum, loss of virginity talk, mentions of marijuana (stoner!hoshi be off the honeypacks!!), they're naked for most of this snippet. a lot of parties later in the fic, just wait LOL. 🕸️ what to listen to: good kisser - usher ; magic stick - lil' kim ; more to come.

LAST YEAR – Sunday, October 23.

You were never opposed to a nice Halloween party. Lots of thematic drinks, stupid boys dressed as Ghostface trying to explore knife kinks, and girls going all out with their glitter make-up and tinsel in their hair for the optimal fairy costume. 

You loved a good Halloween party, music blasting out of the speakers that were stolen from the AV Club by the softer version of the Beta Tau Omega brothers. Dancing with strangers in sweat-soaked facades, and waking up with smeared face paint all over your neck and shoulders from whatever disguised hook-up you'd taken home that night.

Last night's rager had to have been one for the books, because you have no idea how you ended up in this absolute mess of a bedroom – owned by none other than your close friend, Kwon Soonyoung. The same Kwon Soonyoung who also happens to TA the class you've put off taking for the last two years, and are set to start taking the upcoming spring semester.

The same Kwon Soonyoung that was related to the wife of the Dean, and the same Kwon Soonyoung that showed up everywhere stoned or ready to get stoned. The very same Kwon Soonyoung that made infused pre-rolls and edibles for nearly the entire campus…for free. Even you could see that was a horrible business call, and you were a Science major.

Soonyoung who helped people sneak kittens into their dorm rooms and make homes for them under lofted beds. Soonyoung, who taught a dance class and self-defense class back to back, so he was never free until after nine at night. Soonyoung who made hanging out seem like he was trying to get into your pants because he was just naturally flirtatious (and somehow, still absolutely bitchless.)

Soonyoung who you've kissed twice since meeting him two years ago, both times at Halloween parties hosted by his stupid fraternity. Soonyoung, who has had his hand up your skirt twice before someone interrupts you by asking if he has any weed at hand. He always does, and it's always in his car or his bedroom. He always goes, and a part of you, no matter how into it you may be, knows it's for the best. He keeps his circle small, of friends that is. You were added to the mix sometime after your first Halloween party (and first kiss together) your  freshman year, when he slammed into you in the middle of the economics hallway, breaking your laptop in the process. He'd felt so bad he took you to Best Buy that same night and shelled out two grand for a new one and even invited you out to lunch the next day.

He did not remember making out at all. To be fair, neither did you until the digital photos came back and he texted you a picture of the two of you kissing against the Beta Tau insignia on the wall. You were so embarrassed you avoided him for a week after, but he quickly forced you out of your dorm for a movie night. The two of you became fast friends, bonding over silly little things and enjoying each other's company – but it didn't stop the rumors from flying that you were a freshman stealing a guy from the sophomores. 

You remember that he adamantly denied any and every dating rumor flung your way, and even went as far as distancing himself from you for a bit – but when you tried to pull the same move he had earlier that year, he said maybe it was best for the two of you to remain friends from a distance. You didn't speak to him for the rest of the year, choosing to spend your time with friends your age and even dating a transfer student named Yuta Nakamoto, who was also in Soonyoung's year.

When word got around, Soonyoung was pissed – but didn't attempt to rekindle your friendship. He still followed you on Instagram, and still felt a bit of anger puddle in his stomach as he liked photo after photo of the two of you together, biting his tongue at the empty smile you held by his side.

This continued well into summer, and he saw the two of you take a trip to Jeju Island together, before breaking up the following week. Soonyoung heard from your friend, Nagyung, that he was transferring back and neither of you wanted to try long-distance. 

The following school year, he watched as you got recruited by sorority after sorority – eventually joining his frat's sister sorority, Alpha Sigma Delta. You hardly had to rush, the girls actively pushing you to pledge and you were far too nice to say no. 

You saw him again for the first time at the Halloween party planning, when you and your fellow pledges were tasked with helping the frat pledges in hauling in liquor. You weren't very happy about it, but Soonyoung whisked you away without a word from you, telling everyone that he needed your help with a certain task.

That task? "Can we talk?"

And you did. You talked, and talked, and talked. He even left at one point to get drinks for the two of you, returning to you fishing through his bag of pre-rolls for the ones infused with lemon balm. He smiled, telling you they were in his car, and you rolled your eyes at it.

You kissed at that party, too. It went further this time – the two of you on Seungcheol's balcony. The idea had been to go up to the roof and get crossed, but it seems a rather tipsy Soonyoung had other ideas. You didn't mind it, in fact you encouraged it – you slipped his hand up your latex dress, you let him slip your panties down your legs. "Hey, Hoshi! Do you have any pre-rolls?!" 

Just as he'd started undoing his pants.

"Fuck, I'm sorry baby."

"It's fine."

You passed out in his bedroom that time, too tired to go back to the sorority house with your sisters. You got out of clean-up, and Soonyoung left you a kimbap roll and an electrolyte drink on his nightstand, with a note asking how you got there 'haha.' 

It hadn't been fine. Again, neither of you remembered this happening until digitals were printed. And it was freshman year all over again – except this time, Soonyoung stuck around. Soonyoung defended you tooth and nail, and even dropped a few of his friends that bad-mouthed you. When you asked him about it, he shrugged, "Nothing wrong with kissing your friends every once in a while." So, here you are. Again.

The third year in a row you and your stupid friend have made out, and somehow, you're in his bed. There's no other explanation as for why your underwear is across the room, hanging off his lamp and why his head is gently laying on your chest. There's literally no other explanation.

"Soonyoung." You rasp, patting his cheek. He doesn't stir, but pouts into your bare breast. "Soonyoung." You speak louder, shaking him slightly as he peels open one of his eyes. 

"Yeah?" It takes him a moment to realize that it's you, sprinkled with glitter from his eye look last night and practically doused in his saliva.

"Oh, fuck." He just furrows his brows, rolling off your chest with a groan. He sits up at the edge of the bed, surveying the room before realizing he's got no pants on. "Son of a bitch. Did we…Yup. Yup, it's right there." His painted fingernails point at the discarded condom atop his dresser, flung hastily in a half-asleep attempt, most likely. You sigh, letting your head fall back on your pillow with a hmph. He does the same, his fingers only reaching up slightly to close the blinds with a jerk of the liftcord.

"You think it was good?" You ask with a small smile, and he snorts. "It was with you, I doubt it would've been bad."

Silence permeates the air again, before he sees your bare bottom half also covered in glitter. You have a tattoo on your hip that you didn't have when you first met. It's a stick-and-poke kitten. "Nice tattoo." "Thanks, I got it on Jeju Island." "When you and Yuta went?" "Yup." "Cool." He sits up, peering down at you with tired eyes. "What'd you see in that guy, anyway?"

"Hm?" "Yuta." "Oh. You want the truth?" It's like being nude in front of each other isn't a big deal. It's like having slept together after years of being in limbo means nothing. It's all so normal, the way you allow him to practically eye fuck you.

"I was sad you stopped being my friend." He blinks at you, watching the way you carefully pick at a thread loose in his comforter. You pull it out, discarding it behind you with a soft smile. "Does that answer your question?" "You fucked another guy because I stopped being your friend?" He asks incredulously, and you shrug. "Not just, but it was a large reason."

"You lost your virginity to him." His eyes are wide, and you shrug once more, nodding your head. "Yup." "Did he make you cum?" "Soonyoung-" "Did he?"

You sigh, patting his comforter. "Not the first couple of times, no. He got better at it, though. It was decent." 

Nodding, he clears his throat.

"Do you think I-" "Maybe. I don't know. I don't remember much, just the Pink Whitney Mingyu gave me." "Mingyu does love his Pink Whitney." You flip onto your back again, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. Tucking your hands behind your head, you speak again. "Do you think I went down on you?" "There's lipstick on my tip." "What color?" "Uhh…wine red." You wipe a finger across your bottom lip, the small amount of residue a bloody, Cabernet red. "Hm. Checks out."

The air feels…comfortable.

"Wanna shower?" "Yeah." "Can I shower with you?" "Yeah, Soonie."

The two of you stretch simultaneously, before rolling to the side of the bed and standing up. He grabs the discarded condom off the dresser, holding it like a used tissue and taking it to the bin. You dig through his dresser for a towel, and he fishes out something for you to wear.

"Boxers okay?" "Hm, I prefer briefs." "On me or on you?" "Your underwear choices are your business." He holds up a pair of Spiderman briefs. You bite back your laugh and nod silently, extending your hand for them.

He disappears into his bathroom, flickering lights on and turning the shower head on. "Hot?" "Boiling." "Got it."

The both of you get in, and you close your eyes as the water pelts your back. Soonyoung says nothing as he moves your hair off your shoulders and away from your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You should've asked me." He mumbles, reaching for the shampoo in the caddy behind you. Peeling your eyes open, you look up at him with a confused stare. "Asked you for what?" He shrugs, holding the shampoo bottle upside down over his hand and squirting some out. "I would've made you cum the first time." You snort, shoving his chest lightly. "Yeah, well…you didn't. It's fine." "This isn't weird to you?" "What? Showering together?" "After fucking, yeah." "Could be worse." "How?" "I could be that girl you've been flirting with since last year, wondering when you're going to text her back." "Who? Yujin?" "Yeah." "I'm not flirting with her, what made you think that?" "Stolen glances, flirty touches, you give her pre-rolls all the time." He rolls his eyes as he cards his fingers through your hair, his dull nails scrubbing your scalp gently. Your eyes flutter shut, and he huffs. "I give everyone pre-rolls." "Because you're a horrible business magnate." 

"No, because I'm nice." You smile without opening your eyes, your hands reaching out to touch his chest. His body feels good under your fingertips, you realize. "Are you mad you don't remember any of it?" "Furious." He mutters, gently tilting your head back to wash the soap out. You can't see the way he's looking at the sweet slope of your neck, just barely making out small nips of his teeth across your throat. Your necklace hangs nicely. The rest of the shower remains silent, as he carefully washes you before himself. His attention to detail is insane, the way his fingers hold the washcloth taut so he can feel every inch of you. He has to commit this to memory.

After, you're drying your hair with a random t-shirt he gave you. He remembers you told him that towels can be too rough for your hair texture sometimes. It's only when you're brushing your teeth with a brand new toothbrush he pulled from his cabinets that he speaks. "Let me change my bedsheets." "Don't wanna lay in the sin of fucking your friend, do ya?" The navy blue sheets are quickly replaced by ones with light grey ditsy floral print, and his comforter is shoved off and replaced by a few throw blankets. He watches as you change his pillowcases, only looking away when he hears his phone ping.

Msg From: Cheol [9:32am] hosh [9:32am] who is the girl in ur room and is she missing a pair of cat ears

"What was your costume last night?" He asks, and you snort. "I was a sexy witch." He smiles to himself as he picks up his phone.

Msg To: Cheol [9:33am] not missing a pair of cat ears [9:34am] and it's y/n

Your head snaps up when you hear a pair of feet thundering up the stairs, followed by silence. You give him an odd look, only to hear excited giggles down the hall and the pitter-patter of two adult men coming towards Soonyoung's room. You cross your arms as you hear the door creak open, an expectant look on your face as Jeonghan and Seungcheol's noses appear through the crack. "Hey, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here." Jeonghan remarks sweetly, and you just roll your eyes.

"He wasn't bluffing." He whispers to Seungcheol, receiving an annoyed huff from Soonyoung. "If you're done intruding on my personal business, I'd appreciate it if you left. The pledges still need to clean up last night's mess." Jeonghan gives you a wry look. "Can I say something and you don't get upset?" "If it's about sex, I will punch you in that pretty face of yours." You say pointedly, fluffing the pillow in your hand before throwing it onto his bed. Jeonghan purses his lips, nodding before sliding out from under Seungcheol. He nods his head, a satisfied look on his face. "Have a good…don't fuck too loud, okay?" Soonyoung barely misses Seungcheol's face with the charger he throws across the room, his giggle being heard in the hallway as he barrels down the stairs.

"Idiots." He huffs, running a hand through his damp hair as you flop onto the bed. "You don't mind if I stay here a bit? My head's killing me."

He lays down next to you, a sigh escaping his lips.

"You okay, Soonie?" Turning only his head, he scans your face. Tired eyes lined with thick lashes, plump lips covered by the Aquaphor in his bathroom. Slightly unkempt brows and your shoulder tattoo peeking out from the collar of his shirt on your frame.

"Kitty?" You grimace at the pet name, one he christened you with when the two of you met. He'd been dressed up as a cowboy, and dancing with a skeleton that was stolen from the comparative anatomy students (with the help of Junhui, of course.) He also had a lit joint between his fingers, one that sprinkled ash over your newly healed shoulder tattoo and made you yelp in pain.

"Shit, I'm sorry, kitty." He quickly put it out in a nearby ashtray, dusting your shoulder of any ash residue. "It's fine, it's fine. Just…can I get a hit?"

"Yeah?" He sits up, leaning against his bed frame before looking down at you.  "Would it be weird if I asked to try again?"

You glance up at him, an amused smile playing on your lips. "Try what again, exactly?"

He clears his throat, a beet red blush coating his cheeks. "You said Yuta didn't make you cum. And we don't know if I made you cum. So…can I have a redemption round?"

You've sat up at this point, a small laugh falling from your lips as you push your hair back, "You want to fuck me?"

"I can just go down on you, if, uh…if that's what you'd prefer." He stutters, mentally cursing himself. You glance at him, eyes scanning his face. "And we're still friends after this? You won't dump me?"

"I won't. I promise. Cross my heart, kitty." He holds his pinky finger out, insinuating you link yours. Sighing, you do just that. "Fine. Hop to, I want breakfast."

haologram © 2024 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[idesofrevolution]

Sweat and Polyester

Siyu Jiang was in love. After moving to the United States from Guangzhou to get his degree in Software Engineering, it was a hard pill to swallow that he was less than stellar at mingling with his peers. Guangzhou was a mega city, easy for him to blend in and mind his own business, busy enough for him to get a contact-high of sorts to feed his need for socialization. New Orleans on the other hand, while not a small town per se, felt tiny and almost claustrophobic to him. Everyone knew eachother, and everyone took the time to chat, go out, have a drink or a blunt, 'fraternize' if you catch my drift... and Siyu quietly observed from a distance, watching the world bustle by.

That is, until he saw Eduardo. In China, he had never felt attracted to men. Perhaps it was the somewhat hostile environment for queer folks, or perhaps it was New Orleans' more laissez-faire attitude about stuff like that, but when the new semester started and he walked into that chemistry class, it was like fireworks erupted from his eyes. Eduardo was on the basketball team, pretty great at it too. He was tall, he was fit, he had those big brown eyes that made Siyu see sideways. When he plopped down in his seat next to Siyu, still in the gym clothes he'd worn to practice an hour or so before and wafting the subtle scent of salty musk from his tattooed body, their eyes met for the first time. A simple smile and a gentle introduction made Siyu's heart flutter, he was laid back and spoke effortlessly with a relaxed and friendly demeanor. Over the first two weeks or so sitting next to him, Eduardo had really helped Siyu feel less alone and less isolated, simply by being kind and taking the time to strike up a conversation with him.

It wasn't long before Siyu was beneath the bleachers in the basketball court, watching a sweaty, jovial Eduardo shoot hoops and practice with the team. It was no secret around campus that Eduardo was bisexual, having streams of girls as well as several teammates going in and out of his dorm room all the time. As mentioned before, the people around there talk, and from what Siyu had overhead, he was a giver and one of the best beds in town. This only added fuel to his fire, as his obsessive love for this sweet, oblivious jock boy grew stronger with each whisper of his name and bounce of the orange ball.

Thus it came to be on that Tuesday evening on a cold November night that Siyu decided to make Eduardo love him. Though, there was a problem. Outside of the obvious signs: him being on the basketball team, him fucking anything that moved, him always have the subtle whiff of reefer about him, and some of the company he'd keep, Siyu really knew nothing of Eduardo's interests. Worse even, the ones he did know about were far outside of his own. Siyu was simply too different of a person to snag his crush's attention. Thus, he focused on who did catch his eye.

Enter Ethan Lafferty. Ethan was everything Siyu wasn't: muscular, tall (even more than the 6'2 Eduardo), confident, cocky even. He was point guard on the team, and Eduardo's best friend. The two couldn't have been more different. Eduardo was sweet, kind, relaxed, a flirt, everyone's favorite guy. Ethan on the other hand, was brash, loud, dumb as a box of rocks, stank of a locker room at high noon, and spent most of his time either banging the entire cheerleading squad on a livestream or downing bottles of Jameson and snorting mountains of cocaine at some hole in the wall bar in the French Quarter. Despite their completely polar personalities, the two were nearly inseparable. It always came off as peculiar that such a stereotypical straight alpha dude bro would be best friends with a queer guy, even if they were teammates.

Siyu began to frequent the duo's hoop sessions, masked in darkness beneath the cavernous space beneath the seats, taking notes on his phone of what he could observe. In his mind, he saw himself as a horny, gay Jane Goodall: observing the hot boys in their natural habitat, and how they interact. Their relationship became clearer over time. Eduardo would be the first to arrive, sitting on the bench and scrolling through his phone until Ethan would burst through the gymnasium door, holding his smelly red shoes and making a loud fuss about whatever girl he'd 'bedded' the night before. The two would sit on the bench, side by side, laughing at Ethan's shitty and demeaning jokes while he threw his arm around Eduardo's neck and ruffled his hair. Even from the clandestine cave he'd hidden away in, he could see Eduardo blush just at Ethan's touch. It was beyond him what a brute like Ethan brought to the table, but Siyu realized whatever it was, Eduardo was into it. If being like that mouthbreathing, smelly dumbass was what would make Eduardo love him, then so be it.

He started to wear a gold chain and earrings, just like Ethan. Sure, the earring was a clip on, and the necklace was cheap plate, but Eduardo quickly complimented him once he'd noticed a few days into it. He started to wear athletic shirts and shorts, some that he'd stolen from the dormitory laundry bin of course, but he'd hoped the effect would sink in. Eduardo didn't take as much of a notice of this, and thus began the diminishing returns of Siyu's efforts. He stopped wearing deodorant, thinking his own pheromones would compete, which they didn't. Not even an acknowledgement. He sketched marker tattoos on his arm, saying he was trying out designs to see what worked. He received a raised eyebrow and silence. The more he tried desperately to impress Eduardo, the less and less it seemed to make a difference. Frankly, he noticed Eduardo pulling away. Their nice little chats before lecture started to disappear, the friendly knuckle bump he would get as they ran into each other in the quad quickly followed suit. The more he tried to be Ethan, telling oddly misogynistic jokes and sipping whiskey from his water bottle in class... the more Eduardo wanted nothing to do with him.

It made no sense to him. He was doing everything right. When Ethan did it on the court, or in the dining hall, or in the library, or even in his dorm room as Siyu had his ear pressed against the door; Eduardo ate it up, his big brown eyes looked at him like he was the most lovely creature on earth. When Siyu tried it, it was met with an awkward glance and a miserable nod. He was losing him. All the work was for naught. It was time to take drastic measures.

Siyu searched high and low through every academic paper he could find in that library to find a way to make someone love him. When that came up with dead ends, he searched how to change your personality, which supplied an equal amount of nothing. Psychology, philosophy, sociology, anthropology, neuroscience, even religion... nothing he found seemed to address his quandary. That's when he dug into the dark corners of the library itself: the occult, cults, mysticism, mythology, demonology... That's when he finally came across it. The key. The knight in shining armor. The solution to his problem.

Siyu was absent from class that Friday, the only day he'd ever missed in Chemistry. He was far too busy preparing for what was to go down that evening in the gym. From sun up to sun down, he was squirreled away in his dark dorm room, a single light on his desk illuminating the old archaic book. To his left, the culmination of his research, a small spray bottle filled with a strange yellow liquid. His trash bin was filled with empty envelopes from Indonesia, Mozambique, Paraguay, Lesotho, Norway, and Russia. Remnants of a shopping spree of esoteric ingredients so outlined in the ancient texts, all of which were less than simple and far beyond illegal to obtain. Though, to Siyu, it mattered not. This was to be his final act, there were no consequences that would matter after it was all over.

As 7:30 struck, as expected, Eduardo entered the gym, setting his bag onto the shining wooden floor and scrolling through his socials. Siyu crouched in his standard spot in the shadows, watching Eduardo's feet bounce absentmindedly mere inches from him as he waited for his friend. It didn't take long, as Ethan kicked open the door, shouting his typical "Bruh! You're not gonna believe what happened last night." Siyu turned off his ears, uninterested in hearing yet another story about ecstasy, booze, and his weird thing for Charlize Theron's legs. Instead, he took the little plastic cap off the spray bottle, and sat silently beneath Ethan as he put on his stinking shoes. As he sat there, talking about absolutely nothing of substance, Siyu spritzed his feet gently with the concoction. He didn't notice a thing, continuing to chide and play around with Eduardo as Siyu sprayed the back of his legs and shorts, then his shirt and finally the back of his neck through the holes in the bleachers. By the time they got up and began to play their game, Ethan was entirely unaware he was coated with the elixir.

Ethan and Eduardo had a particularly impressive match between them. Eduardo had to keep up with Ethan's frantic energy, which he'd never had a problem with before. Hoop after hoop, he would scream and shout, rubbing it in his friend's laughing face. It was their best hoop sesh yet, fitting it would be their last. Go out on a bang, thought Siyu, as that energy quickly began to deplete. Before long, Ethan had complained about his knee giving out before he could dunk.

"Fuck, bruh. I guess kicking your ass tired me the fuck out!" Eduardo laughed at his friend, pushing his head down as he walked past.

"Your coke is wearing off I bet. I haven't seen you play like that in a long time, man! What the fuck did you take?" Ethan rubbed the back of his neck, a subtle ache beginning to radiate at the base of his skull.

"I didn't take anything, fucktard! I'm just that good, and you needed a reminder." The two laughed like morphine-riddled hyenas, before plopping back down on the bench above Siyu. Their delectable scent washed down atop him like a waterfall of pheromones. "But I may need a minute, huhu."

"Yeah man, take a breather. Wouldn't want you to get too exhausted before tomorrow's game." Eduardo winked as he picked up his bag, saying his goodbye before walking out the side door, leaving Ethan massaging his aching wet feet on the bench. It was time. Siyu slowly made his way out from beneath the bleachers, his cheap shoes squeaking on the court as he approached Ethan.

"What does he see in you?" Siyu strolled over to Ethan, who chuckled to himself as he put his socked foot back into his shoe.

"Ahh fuck, man. What the fuck are you doing here?" Ethan was panting. To him, he had a hard workout. To Siyu, the elixir was working.

"You are awful, Ethan. You're rude, you're crass, you treat others like shit, and you smell. You're a real keeper, aren't you?" Ethan turned to Siyu, his indifferent expression melting away to indignancy. He jumped from his seat, ready to pound this 5 foot nerd into oblivion, until that damned knee gave out again, toppling him back onto the bench.

"Fuck. You better be thankful I'm tapped after that workout, fucker. You should thank me really, you'd be in the ground by now." Siyu stared with absolute apathy, knowing fully well he would not be brutalized by this waning star.

"You're scum, but he would do anything for you. I can't figure out why, trust me I've tried. But you have something going on in that empty brain of yours that he can't get over." Ethan turned and snickered under his breath.

"I know you. You're that little fuckin' cocksucker who's stalking Eddy, aren't you? See-who or whatever your fuckin' name is. Listen, buddy, I'll just tell you. He's not interested, alright? You have nothing he's looking for, so just leave him the fuck alo..." Ethan tried once more to stand, only for his legs to once again give out. "Fuck! What the fuck is going on?" Siyu smirked.

"I know. I'm not what he's looking for, again: I have tried. But you are what he's looking for, and you don't even see it." Siyu walked closer to the sweating jock, dripping from every pore as if he were in the throws of scarlet fever. "I've decided to do something about that, Ethan. You're no good for a guy that's as incredible and lovely and glorious as Eduardo, and I'm going to make sure that whatever it is you have that I don't gets put to good use." Ethan looked down at his legs, growing smaller and frail by the second. It looked as if he were melting, his skin sagging, his muscles deflating, his body just sinking into a puddle of sweat on the floorboards. Whatever slurs he wished he could launch at Siyu were caught in his collapsing throat as he gurgled and bubbled. Siyu watched with a gleeful malice, watching the top competitor sink into a puddle of his own fetid sweat. There was but one single glance of abject rage from Ethan's face before it too had plummeted to the ground, leaving behind his sopping wet clothes and a silent gymnasium. Siyu took a couple of seconds to just breathe and bask in his success. He looked down at the clothes and shoes, wafting his enemy's pungent scent, imbued by the puddle of his own essence he'd become.

Now full of excitement, with a pep in his step, he gathered the dripping clothes and shoes, slipping them into Ethan's gym bag before stealing away into the night. He quickly found himself bolting across the quad, hoping and praying no one saw him with another student's bag in his possession. Bursting into the dormitory, he ran up the stairs to his floor, taking a moment to breathe before he gingerly opened the hall door. Tip toeing ever so quietly down the carpeted hallway, praying at the last minute he wouldn't be caught by a languid R.A. or a drunk neighbor. The universe, it seems, was on his side that evening, as he unlocked his door and slipped in entirely unseen. Collapsing onto his bed, the heavy and damp bag sat next to him, radiating heat from within it's shiny plastic confines. It was time to finish this.

He turned to the bag, slowly unzipping it, allowing the dank, wet air within to rush out into his room. Ethan must have lived out of this bag, as it was filled with basketball shorts, sweatshirts, socks, shoes, blender bottles filled with protein shakes, and of course the lone sweat-soaked joint at the bottom. Siyu began shucking the wayward clothes onto his chair across the room, pleased to know he would have a couple of outfits that would fit him once this was all over. He emptied out the bag until the Ethan-infused clothes were all that was left in the bottom of the bag, swimming in a puddle of musky liquid.

Siyu smirked as he took out each piece, laying them out on the ground one by one. Tee shirt. Shorts. Disgusting jock strap. Ripe socks. Even riper sneakers. Finishing it off with the gold chain and single earring. It was all there. Rushing to his desk, Siyu grabbed the very last component to his plan: two facemasks, one white and one black. These two would be the final inoculation that would keep his changes permanent over time. Two weeks of breathing it in, letting it merge with his own essence, he would ensure that the new Siyu would be around long enough to ensnare his sweetheart. He bent down, picking up the jockstrap and a sock, both still dripping, and wringing out a sizeable amount of the stinking sweat to fall onto each mask. The stage was set, the materials were prepped, and it was time to make himself the perfect soulmate for Eduardo.

He started with the jockstrap. Even post-wringing, it still sat warm and damp, yellowed with the sweat and cum that had long sunk into it's fibers. Putting his two lithe feet into the straps, he nervously pulled up, droplets of the sweat rolling down his hairless legs before it fit loosely on his skinny waist. The change was immediate. There was no momentary ounce of silence and some slow change. No, his groin immediately ballooned out, the pouch quickly filling and pushing out tout against the wet fabric. His ass inflated loudly, the sounds of stretching and creaking rubber marked the expansion of his flat rear into two round and hairy orbs like basketballs on a shelf. Siyu gingerly groped his ass, dripping in sweat from the wiry hairs he'd never before had sprout out of his smooth skin. He cackled loudly, pulling the front strap forward, and peering into his hammock. He was met with a long, uncut python and two egg sized balls wafting out his new masculine cocksmell.

Now entirely intrigued, blinded by a sense of foreign hubris he'd long suppressed, he grabbed the shirt, slipping it over his head in one quick motion. The shirt quickly started to quake, turning from white to black, before his arms dropped like sacks of potatoes. Two firm pecs burst out from beneath the slick fabric, followed by his shoulders widening to twice it's former length. Siyu continued his moans of hedonistic pleasure, while his arms bulked up: firm but lean biceps and forest of hair growing from his forearms down to his wrists, before tattoos sprouted down his tan skin. He held out his hands, raucously laughing as his fingers lengthened, callouses appearing on his sweaty palms, and veins snaking wildly all the way up his arms.

"Interesting." Siyu's insane laughter ceased immediately. His eyes darted around the dark room, searching for the voice which had loudly billowed out of the shadows. "Fuck, bruh I thought I was dead fucking meat back there. But shit, it looks like you fucked up your little recipe didn't you?" Siyu's hands began to slowly clap, not at all under his full control.

"What the fuck? Where are you? How are you here?" His sweaty hand clasped over his mouth, sticking his middle finger into his mouth like gag.

"Aww, Siyu. What's wrong, buddy? You didn't wanna get rid of me, did ya? Nahhh. You wanted to BE me." His left hand grasped the shorts, slowly pulling them up his legs while his calves and quads burst out, covered in a thick carpet of black hairs. He shot up in height, easily breaking 6' 3" in seconds. He looked down, the height disorienting him as he gagged himself. "You got your wish, fucker. Kind of, at least. See, you thought you could turn me into a puddle and wear my shit, get all swole and dope as fuck, and what... He'd fall in love with you?" Siyu's eyes widened in terror. "Yeah, fucker I can see it all! I'm in here with you now. I can see how you jacked off to the idea of him plowing your ass after a long game. I can see how you followed him all over fucking town all the time. I can see how you thought some fuckin' magic bullshit would make you like me so you could force him to love you. Gotta say, that's some fucked up shit killing off your crush's best friend so you have no competition." Siyu's body bent over, picking up the socks, before plopping down onto the chair, surrounded by Ethan's clothes.

"See, you think I didn't know Eddy was into me? You think we didn't jack off together in our rooms when we needed a release? You think I wasn't into him too?" The hands slipped on the sopping wet socks, as his feet started soak up Ethan's sweaty essence, quickly followed by the nasty red shoes. As the laces were tied snug, his feet began to crack and swell, his arch growing tall and his toes lengthening out. Tattoos sprawled over the tops of his stinking feet and ankles, as the red fabric quickly turned orange, widening and lengthening even larger than Ethan's, until they were two massive size 15's. "Heheh, he likes feet, just so you know. Right when we get home after a long day, he loves it when I peel off my shoe and shove his face in it." Siyu felt his hand pinch his cheeks, and his middle finger caress his tongue in his mouth. "Thing is, Siyu, I was straight. I only had eyes for pussy, and fuck bruh, I knew how to stick my dick in it. I liked it when he sucked my nasty cock clean, but you know, it was just something between bros, you know?" Siyu slapped his meaty thighs, standing up tall and picking up the white facemask there on the ground. Tears ran down his terrified face as his own hands drew it closer.

"But now that I'm here, now that you and I are one, I think you may be right, dude." Siyu moaned against the hand over his mouth, just before it slipped out and grasped the other side of the mask. "I think we and Eddy are gonna be soulmates." He shrieked as the mask adhered over his nose and chin, and around his ears. Siyu could do nothing as he felt his brows lowering, his greasy hair falling out of his chiseled skull, quickly replaced by a sweaty black fade. His lips pillowed out as his long, meaty tongue licked them as he smirked with his pearly white teeth. Siyu could feel Ethan's consciousness wrap around him, like a tight latex suit compressing him tighter and tighter and tighter, until he visualize Ethan finally penetrating him. He pulled down his shorts and began to pump his greasy dick, while Ethan made himself at home inside of Siyu. Their traits intermingling with eachother- merging everything between them that would have made them distinct, now creating an amalgamation of both. As his balls began to shudder, pre cum dripping from his hooded cockhead, there was no more Ethan, and there was no more Siyu.

The first volley of spunk shot from his dick, memories of fucking gals on the weekends and guys on the weekdays solidified in his mind. Second volley of spunk, a sense of cocky self assurance swelled within him, though washed with a sense of empathy and camaraderie to mellow him out. Third volley of spunk, he was booksmart in his IT classes, but dumb as a box of rocks, choosing to funnel his free time out of class into the team and chilling out with his bros. Fourth volley of spunk, he loved Eduardo. That sweet, adorable, kinky little fuck was the apple of his eye, and he'd do anything for him. Though, he couldn't get too lovey dovey, he knew all too well that being chased and obsessed over was the quickest way to turn him off. He would happily tease, flirt, kiss, suck and fuck him, but he would let Eddy come to him. Fifth and final volley, his identity now centralized and firm: he was Shan Eoyang, a Chinese exchange student on scholarship for basketball. He was cool, he was hot, he was the golden hearted bad boy that made everyone around him go wild. The world was his oyster, and he would be there with his man by his side, and the various others who would worship at their sweaty masculine feet. He opened his eyes, and Shan took his first deep breath, taking in his own scent embedded into his mask.

"Fuuuuuuuck dude, that's good." He slipped his cock back into his dirty jockstrap, knowing all too well that Eddy would be into it when they finally met up. Bringing his fingers to his ears, he came perilously close to prying off his mask, though something in the back of his mind told him it probably wasn't the best idea. He pulled out his phone, not recognizing it whatsoever. It had his boyfriend's face as the screensaver, but it wouldn't take his password or fingerprint. Must be the previous tenant's phone, he thought to himself, as he opened the window and chucked it from the building. He'd run out and get one in the morning before class, as he had a bunch of scholarship money to burn.

---

Eduardo waited outside the basketball court, wondering where Ethan was. It was almost 8, and while he was never particularly adept at being on time, he would have at least texted. He looked down at his phone, scrolling through his Grindr, looking for whoever was available after hoops. Ethan would definitely let him suck him off in the locker room, but meh, that wasn't really going anywhere anyway. Thankfully, Siyu wasn't in class, apparently he'd dropped out from what the professor had said. At minimum he was relieved that the creepy little guy wasn't going to be following him home at night anymore.

Just as he was preparing to call it a night, the door burst open at the end of the hall. He turned to give Ethan a hard time for being so late, but the man before him was not Ethan. He was the tall, dark, and handsome archetype personified. He sauntered over to him with a confident stride, oozing a sense of pride and sexual energy.

"Oh... shit man. You uh, you caught me off guard. I was just waiting for my friend." The man approached Eduardo with smiling eyes behind the black facemask on his chin.

"You're Eddy, right? I'm a new student, just got on the basketball team. Coach says you might be able to show me around the place, if you're down of course? Name's Shan." Shan leaned against the wall, letting his hand rest on his neck, and smirking beneath the fabric as his sharp pit musk wafted at his gorgeous new teammate. Eduardo, happily letting in the stud's scent, lapped it up and shuddered.

"Yeah, man. I'm so down, I'm Eduardo. Friends call me Eddy." Shan leaned in close, their noses now inches from eachother.

"Eddy, then. Sounds like a good time, someone like you would probably be able to show me a lot." Shan winked, and Eddy blushed a bright red, nodding gingerly. "Well shit, how's about we shoot a couple hoops, we go back to my room and we show eachother around, what do you say?" Eduardo looked down, seeing Shan's massive well worn sneakers, which had inched their way to his own until they were firmly touching. Oh shit yeah, this guy was perfect.

"I say fuck yeah, man. Show me what you're made of." Eddy made the move, letting his fingers slowly touch Shan's forearm. Happily received, Shan ruffled his soon-to-be boyfriend's hair, as if it were second nature.

"Oh I'm gonna kick your ass on the court. We'll see what I do with it when we're done." He slapped Eddy's back, tossing his sweaty arm around his shoulder as the two walked into the court. They would be inseparable once again, and yet inseparable for the first time.

[twistedcrumbs2]

Just an intrusive thought to add to the series of random ideas that strike me throughout the day—this time while working out to the most chaotic playlist you can imagine.

A workout routine with Jack!

Maybe you’ve suddenly found yourself dropped into another world, surrounded by traumatized and slightly unhinged students (or completely unhinged, depending on how you look at it), all while trying to survive the chaos of an insane school semester. Naturally, you’ve barely had any time to care for yourself. Just maybe.

Then, during one of Professor Vargas’ motivational lectures—peppered with lines like “Exercise is essential for self-care! Just look at me!” and “A healthy mind lives in a healthy body!”—a thought crosses your mind: “Alright, one hour of exercise a day won’t kill me… probably.”

To be fair, realizing you can’t even chase Grim around the dorm without gasping for air and nearly collapsing was the final push you needed. Something had to change—and fast.

The problem? You have no idea where to start. After mulling it over, you decide to drop by the athletic club. Watching others train might give you a clue (or, let’s be real, trigger some anxiety—there are a lot of sweaty guys in short shorts, after all).

As soon as you arrive, the first familiar faces you spot are Jack and Deuce, who immediately look at you like you’ve just fallen out of the sky (which, admittedly, isn’t far from the truth).

After some chatting, you explain why you’re there. Jack, much to your surprise, seems more excited about your decision than you are.

And let’s be honest—given his physique, it’s no shock that the wolf beastman is the living embodiment of a gym rat. As you ramble about wanting to get into shape, his tail swishes back and forth, his subtle smile betraying just how thrilled he is.

— That’s great. If you need anything, just let me know, — he offers sincerely.

And, of course, you take him up on it. Jack is easily the most dedicated person you know when it comes to fitness, and more importantly, he’s kind enough not to expect something outrageous in return.

But it’s a terrible decision.

Not because Jack is bad at helping—quite the opposite. He’s an incredible instructor: patient, committed, and always willing to lend a hand. The issue is that you were expecting something easy. A casual evening stroll, maybe some jumping jacks. Nope.

Instead, Jack shows up that very weekend with a detailed workout plan, complete with an intimidating ABCD schedule (whatever that means), exercises with weird names, and—worst of all—one hour of cardio every day.

Yes, he genuinely wants you to run for an hour. Every day. You’ve seen him jogging past your window before sunrise, but you never thought you’d be dragged into it too.

To make matters worse, some of the exercises sound downright absurd.

— Bent-over barbell rows? — you ask, staring at the workout sheet like it’s written in an alien language. — Do we need to find a boat for this?

Jack chuckles softly and replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world: — No, just a barbell. I’ll show you.

The first few days are brutal. By 8 PM, you’re practically falling asleep on your feet, and your muscles are so sore that walking through the hallways feels like a challenge. But oddly enough, your mornings start to feel a little more structured. Despite the physical exhaustion, Jack’s company makes everything worth it.

During your sessions, you chat about all sorts of things. He even shares tips on improving your diet—always as gentle suggestions, never pushy.

It’s honestly adorable. Hard to believe this is the same guy who nearly kills you with his workouts.

Of course, there are moments of pure misery. Like the time he introduced you to burpees—an exercise that can only be described as modern-day torture. But in the end, the support and camaraderie you share with Jack turn the grueling routines into something almost… enjoyable. Almost.

Jack seems genuinely excited about your commitment. After all, what gym rat wouldn’t want a workout buddy? But it’s more than that. He enjoys your company and takes pride in helping you improve. He even goes out of his way to ensure you’re safe and don’t overdo it.

When you try to slack off—cut a set short or cheat on your form—he sighs heavily and says firmly: — You’re only cheating yourself, not me.

It’s giving strict dad energy.

Yet, he’s also incredibly perceptive. When you get frustrated or demotivated—like the time you stopped mid-run, gasping for air—Jack slows down and walks beside you, encouraging you to keep going at your own pace.

Beyond the workouts, Jack introduces small healthy habits into your daily routine. He reminds you to carry a water bottle, stretches with you before class, and even brings homemade protein bars. He insists they’re nothing special, but you’re convinced he blushed when you complimented how good they were.

As the days pass, you start to notice small improvements—not just in your stamina but also in how much easier your mornings feel. The group grows, too, with Epel, Sebek, and occasionally Deuce joining in. It’s chaotic but oddly fun.

Training with Jack isn’t just about getting fit. It’s about building a deeper connection with him. Because let’s face it—nothing bonds two people like suffering through a set of crunches at six in the morning, right?

Final verdict: 8/10 experience. Exercising is still a nightmare, but Jack makes it bearable.

[whereserpentswalk]

You get possessed sometimes. It's not a big deal. You don't really consider yourself supernatural the same way other people you know who are supernatural are, like people with fae ancestry, or spellcasters, or people with vampirism or lycanthropy. You just consider yourself a normal privileged human, who happens to be really easy to possess.

It can happen pretty randomly. Just when you're walking somewhere, if you walk past the wrong thing. Useally places with demonic or eldritch power that's isn't properly bound, or haunted places that the city hasn't bothered to take care of. It'll useally just happen when you're out walking the street.

Being very easy to possess is weird. It's not like how most people are possessed where it'll have to be a big thing with a ritual. Spirits will just walk into you. Sometimes you don't even see them. Useally your body will reject them pretty fast, it's learned to do so quite well. It feels really bad when it happens, you watch yourself lose control of your actions, and than start feeling emotions and thinking thoughts that aren't your own. And it's distressing because you lose so much control so fast. And then it's over. Often you'll see the spirit walking away. Sometimes they'll apologize to you, useally you'll apologize to them.

You feel like you've inconvenienced so many people. People always act like you're being selfish, or weird, or lazy, if you need to rest, or spend time emotionally recovering after it happens. It's just a quick possession. Most of the time they don't even know you're possessed, they just think you saw something and got scared, or started acting weirdly for no reason.

And there are some streets you can never walk down, or stores you can't go in, and it's hard to explain to people just why that is. Most people outside of some close freinds don't tend to take it seriously. For whatever reason truly supernatural people, those vampires and witches you hate comparing yourself to, seem to be the most understanding. Sometimes they even say you're like them but it feels weird to feel that way, it feels weird to call yourself oppressed on a supernatural axis just for being easy to possess.

Sometimes you wish society did a better job and keeping cracks in reality that lead to other dimensions closed, but it feels like a selfish think to demand unless they're so big corporal entities start coming through. And it isn't the corporal entities that are the ones causing you specifically pain. Is it pain? It is pain right? It's weird to call it pain. Weirder to call it suffering.

You attended a class last semester where you were expected to deal with the type of spirit that can so easily possess you. The city has laws on accessibility that make it so you should be allowed to skip that specific part but they failed you for it anyway. To be fair it's their right to fail you. You didn't bother bringing it up. You didn't think it would be right to stand next to a werewolf, and tell them you're dealing with the same problems as them just for having a weak spiritual membrane.

Sometimes it's worse. Most spirits possess you on accident or out of opportunity, but a few are sadistic. You were possessed on the subway once by one which forced you to touch your breasts for it, and rub yourself in ways thst made you esepcially uncomfortable. Another one while you were waiting outside of a deli forced you to cry and start hurting yourself. You were nearly arrested both times. It still feels like it's your fault. People taking the train aren't expecting you to just randomly do that.

Part of why you left the town you grew up in was because they're way less ok with people doing weird things on the street than they are in the city. Apparently you just aren't allowed in some communities. It's weird how right it feels, to be banned from some places for something you can't control.

It's so easy to hurt you. It's so easy for anyone to hurt you. Yet you don't feel like a victim. You feel like this privileged little thing that's crying for no reason. That's what they always called you anyway.

[silvergyus]

straight a students- h.kk

pairing: university students! hueningkai x reader

summary: you and kai are the top students in competition for a coveted spot on a study abroad. what happens when acceptance emails go out?

warnings: this fic is all-ages!/ academic rivals trope/ reader cries in front of kai

word count: 1,100+

author's note: this is drawn from my own life experiences (guess which ones lol). hyuka and reader's major is kept intentionally vague and if the set up isn't actually how study abroad programs work, just ignore it. requested by @lunesdesire as part of my 500 followers celebration

Childhood dreams of studying in castles with vast libraries and cool, foggy mornings were so close you could almost taste them. You’d worked hard the last three years to perfect your application. You wanted this, no, you needed this. And you weren’t going to let big, stupid, perfect HueningKai get the spot over you.

The trip pulled from multiple universities so there was only one, highly coveted spot allowed from yours. Kai was your unofficial opponent in the competition for it. The two of you had been in nearly every class together all three years of undergrad, and were locked in an unofficial competition for top student. Who could write the best reports, who could earn the highest test scores. It was neck-and-neck as to which of you would get picked to study abroad. No matter how hard you worked, he seemed to work just as hard.

----

You settled into your seat, nerves twisting your stomach into knots.

Acceptance emails went out at 11a.m.

Class ran from 10 to 12.

You weren’t going to learn a thing.

----

Class dismissed with the professor smiling warmly at you and then at Kai. What could that mean? Did she know already which one of you was triumphant, which one of you would pack your bags for a semester away? Was yours a pity smile and his a smile of congratulations? Or was it the other way around?

You shook your head. No time to think like that. You smiled politely back before rushing out of the classroom, down the hall and into the courtyard.

You opened your phone. There it was. Arrived in your inbox at precisely 11:03a.m.

You didn’t dare take a breath. Chest tight as you hurriedly opened the message, eyes racing over the formal words.

“...many strong candidates…”

“...we regret to inform you…”

You felt the world stop, the breath you’d held so tightly escaping in a ragged huff. What were you going to do now?

----

A heavy feeling of dejection had settled over your body in the hours since the rejection email shattered your dreams. You hoped that the quiet and repetition of shelving books would help to calm your mind. You loved your campus job: putting books back in their assigned spots in the library. The stacks were your safe space, just you and the books.

And HueningKai.

He was hunched over an array of textbooks, pouring over their contents. He hadn’t noticed you yet, half hidden in the rows of books, legs obscured by your rolling cart.

Anger and disappointment flashed in your chest. A lump formed immediately in your throat. The news was still fresh, the wound still raw. And there, in your safe haven, sat the man that had taken it all away from you.

You hurried to get away before he saw you. The thought of having to face him when your chest felt this tight and your eyes this watery was too much to bear. You pushed the wobbly cart around the corner, towards the safety of the next aisle. In your rush, a large textbook tumbled from your cart, crashing to the floor and piercing the near silence.

Kai looked up towards the sound, recognition flashing across his face when he spotted you. His voice was slow, unsure, and awkward as he whispered loudly across the space. “H- hey.”

You didn’t look up, eyes trained on retrieving the fallen book. You didn’t trust yourself to reply.

“So uh, emails went out.”

Tears threatened to fall as he spoke. It wasn’t fair, the universe playing a sick joke on you like this. First it took away everything you worked hard for, then it put Kai here to rub it in your face?

“That was um, maybe not what-” You couldn’t let him finish before tears began to stream silently down your face. Shame burned as hot as the tears down your cheeks. You’d done everything you could and yet you weren’t as good as him.

Kai stuttered, confused, before standing up in a rush. The chair scraped across the tiled floor, loud in the quiet room. He seemed unsure of what to do as you wiped your eyes, embarrassed at the falling tears. You tried to turn away, to run from this embarrassment, but suddenly his arms were around you in a tight hug.

He was warm, was what you noticed first, soft cotton t-shirt pressed against your cheek, soft flannel sleeves holding you close. He was big, his broad chest the perfect height for you to hide away in. His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke, “hey, it’s alright.”

His hug was so incredibly comfortable, and if it was anyone else you’d ask to stay there forever, but it didn’t feel right, being comforted by the guy you lost to. You struggled out of his hold to look him in the eyes. Soft, brown eyes stared back, slightly confused.

“It’s fine Kai. I don’t need your pity.”

He cocked his head at your words. “What do you mean? You got in.”

Your head spun, gears turning as you tried to make sense of what he just said. “What? N-no.” It broke your heart to speak the next words, “I didn’t.”

“You didn’t get in either?” He asked.

You were sure you looked as confused as you felt, struggling to piece together what really occurred. “No, I- no. I thought you did.”

A beat of silence hung in the air between you before a broken laugh erupted from your chest. “Then who got in?”

He laughed, something loud and deep and silly. “I don’t know! I thought it was you.”

The air was light between you now, years of silent rivalry ended by one email. You were no longer two perfect students competing for the top spot. Now you were just two students in the same program.

He smiled at you warmly before reaching up. “You’ve got a, uh.” His thumb gently brushed against your cheek, wiping off the tear that still stained it. 

“Hey, um, do you want to study with me and maybe figure out who got in over us? When you're done with your shift I mean.”

You smiled. “These are actually the last books I have to put away before my shift ends.”

“Cool, cool.” You noticed a twinge of pink blooming across his cheeks as he kneaded his lips together. “Cool.”

The lump in your chest subsided a bit. Maybe you weren’t going on the trip, achieving the dreams you’d put in your journal since childhood. But maybe through this, you could gain a friend.

taglist: @lunesdesire, @dearlyjun, @moamidzyism, @miupow

send a message to be added or removed from my taglist!

[drunk-on-dk]

[Teaser] Over the Country Club | Yoon Jeonghan (M)

pairing: best friend!Jeonghan x afab!reader genre/tags: fluff, angst, smut (minors do not interact), friends to lovers, a bit of unrequited love, a slice of life au, college au, post-grad au rating: 18+ (minors do NOT interact) w/c: ~3k TEASER (estimated ~15-20k for full fic, currently this may be my longest fic yet and it feels so good to really be writing again) warnings: mentions of alcohol (underage is not condoned), future smut

Summary: Jeonghan and you have known each other for as long as you can both remember. From the years spent working at the country club, to your university days, there has always been this aching feeling that neither of you can quite understand. Someone falls first, but the other falls harder.

A/N: Please let me know your thoughts on this teaser! I've been working hard to get back into writing in the new year and wanted to get comfortable with diving more into the plot. Things may change when the full fic is posted, but not much of what's in the teaser! I hope you enjoy it, and of course please message me if you'd like to be on the tag list for this fic!

I. 4th of July, the Summer Before the First Year of University

Just like every other high school student in your town, Jeonghan and you found part-time jobs at the oh-so-prestigious country club located in the next town over. One could argue it was practically a full-time job since most part-timers worked upwards of 40 hours a week due to how busy the club got during the summers. 

Not that you would complain about the hours; to be fair, you had to save up a substantial amount of money for the upcoming transition to college. The realization hit soon after graduating high school, you only had enough pocket change to fund some expenses,  which was not nearly enough to get you comfortably through the upcoming semesters. You had worked at the club most summers, but this year you took all the hours they offered. 

Plus, you’d be crazy to admit that summers working at the Lakewood Country Club weren’t some sort of fun. Plenty of your peers worked there, including Jeonghan, your longest lasting friendship due to the proximity of living next door to one another and growing up attached at the hip. 

Jeonghan worked as a caddie on the golf course. He’s gentlemanly in appearance, has just enough knowledge about what type of club to use at each hole, and has a never-ending spunk that entertains whatever group of golfers he’s assisting for the day. Jeonghan made decent tips working as a caddie, earning a couple of hundred dollars from some of his return golfers who specifically requested his assistance for an 18-hole outing. One could assume that most members of the country club were very well-off, or at least living comfortably. 

Luckily, you were stationed at the halfway house most days this summer. It’s located in the heart of the golf course, and the club consistently blasted cool air conditioning in the exposed, open bar area that was meant for golfers to stop by. Jeonghan, as scheming as ever, would ensure that his golfers stopped by for a quick refreshment at some point, knowing that he’d get to spend some time with you and help you earn some extra cash in tips from his already rowdy crew. 

You’d mix up some Manhattans or Old-Fashioned’s for the golfers, knowing the usual orders for each club member as if they had been engrained on the back of your hand (in hindsight, a freshly graduated high schooler should not have been pouring alcoholic beverages, but the country club didn’t care - your labor was cheaper than hiring a professional tender and you learned just the basics just fine). Nonetheless, your cocktails were a treat for the golfers who had been drinking beers for most of the course, most of them lukewarm or gone by the time they made it to the halfway house. 

Today is the Fourth of July, marking the mid-way point of your last summer before college. You had made your fair share of tips this summer working at the halfway house, especially due to Jeonghan’s consistent sourcing of clientele at your bar. It was a particularly hot day, one of the hottest of the summer and plenty of customers had stopped by, leaving hefty tips, feeling generous either from the heat or the holiday. 

Jeonghan approached the bar area with a heavy sigh, parking his cart hastily, but still had his typical mischievous smile etched onto his features as a crowd of familiar golfers followed behind him. Your nose scrunched in feigned disgust, a teasing smile mirroring his upon noticing just how tired and sweaty the group was from the relentless summer heat. 

Part of you thought he looked angelic from the way his sun-kissed skin gleamed, but you’d never admit that, nor would you dare to speak those thoughts out loud, not even to your closest friends who weren’t Jeonghan. However, the other part of you remembered he was just your silly best friend who smelled slightly like fresh-cut grass, sunscreen, and a hint of whatever remained of his tropical cologne. 

“The usuals?” You beamed, flashing your best customer service smile at the group, already reaching for the bottle of top-shelf whiskey displayed behind you. You received hoots and hollers along the lines of “Yes, please” from the group. Jeonghan slips behind the bar as you expertly begin to prepare drinks for the parched golfers. Normally, this was frowned upon, but Jeonghan had most of the country club supervisors wrapped around his finger. 

Jeonghan’s quick to sort through the fridge right off to your side, squatting and contemplating his options, but you have to smack his hand away from the cooler once you notice his deft fingers are reaching for a plastic shooter of whiskey.

“Y/N,” Jeonghan practically cries out, whining similar to a little boy being scolded, but he’s just your immature best friend who has a knack for trouble and stealing. You can’t always let him get away with everything. 

“You kleptomaniac, don’t you dare,” you joke, routinely preparing the drinks, laughing at the puppy dog eyes that are flashed in your direction and then back to the cold fridge. You bend down next to him, whispering quietly so that no one but Jeonghan can hear. “Wait until later, today’s manager has been keeping inventory of the alcohol as if they personally own it all. I can sneak some after my shift when I cash out.” 

Jeonghan’s pout morphs into a smirk, a devious glint in his eyes as he holds out his pinky finger. You comply, wrapping your pinky with his to silently promise that you’ll follow through later. 

“Meet at hole 12? Right at the hill behind the trees? It’s still the best spot for fireworks.” Jeonghan speaks as if it’s a secret mission - as if it’s not the same spot you’ve met to watch fireworks for the last few years working at the country club. 

“Oh, I thought we’d check out the views at hole 17 this year,” you roll your eyes mockingly, Jeonghan knows you’re messing with him, but it’s your smile that betrays your teasing, “Duh, Jeonghan. I’ll catch you there later.” 

“You know hole 17 is where Mingyu and Arin lost their virginity to each other last year,” Jeonghan pokes, settling on bottled water from the fridge and standing back up, towering over your own figure. You feel your cheeks flush, a bit flustered he’d drop that information so casually, and sure as hell hoping he didn’t think that you were suggesting anything. 

You didn’t see Jeonghan in that way, he didn’t see you in that way. Plain and simple. You two were only best friends and that’s how it would always be. 

“That’s gross, Jeonghan,” you scowl, willing away the blush that is still burning your face as you finish garnishing the drinks. “Don’t air out people’s secrets like that. That’s personal. Plus, why would I know that?” 

Jeonghan chuckles, shrugging as he helps you carry the drinks over to the golfers who have made themselves comfortable among the shaded seating outside the bar area, an outdoor fan helping cool them down. They all clamor in delight as Jeonghan and you emerge from behind the bar with the chilled drinks, quick to "cheers" each other before savoring the first sip of their beverages. 

There are smacks and sighs of delight from the group, your pride growing as they approve of the drinks, and gather up some cash for a tip. Jeonghan nudges you, urging you to accept the bills from Mr. Choi, a polite older man who continues to take care of Jeonghan and you each summer. He’s never been creepy, and he tips very well. You still feel slightly guilty each time you accept cash from him. 

“Thank you, Mr. Choi,” you speak graciously, accepting the tip, quickly shoving it into your pocket without checking the amount, and earning an approving thumbs up from the man as he takes another sip of his cocktail. 

“Save it wisely, Y/N,” Mr. Choi chimes, humming in thought, and eyes flickering between where you and Jeonghan stand. “Jeonghan tells me you’re both attending the same university in a few months. Heard you’ve both received a pretty good scholarship, even one from the club?” 

“That is correct, sir,” you nod excitedly. Not only had you both received an academic scholarship from your university, but all your years working at the club have paid off in a way you wouldn’t have imagined, earning a scholarship from the Lakewood Country Club members' foundation. “I am grateful to have received such an award. Don’t worry, I’ll make good use of it. I know Jeonghan will too. You’d never guess, but he’s a straight A student,” you tease, hiding your mouth only for Mr. Choi to see as if Jeonghan can’t hear you, and elbowing your friend in the rib cage, earning a pained groan from him. 

Mr. Choi nods in approval, a smile creeping onto his face as he chuckles at the dynamic between you two. “Glad to know my money is going towards two bright futures.” Jeonghan is pushing your bony elbow away, annoyed at your enthusiasm and teasing, further amusing Mr. Choi. “Jeonghan, make sure you don’t lose sight of Y/N during University, all sorts of partners will be chasing her. She’s intelligent and beautiful. Don’t want her forgetting about you now, do you?”

Jeonghan would groan if it wasn’t for the fact that it was Mr. Choi speaking to him. He has to restrain himself from shoving you away as well, knowing that Mr. Choi has inflated your ego a bit too much with his praise. Nonetheless, Jeonghan plays into it. “Nope, she’s stuck with me, so don’t even worry about it.”

You almost laugh out loud, reminding yourself to remain professional on the course as you fire back. “As if, Jeonghan couldn’t get rid of me even if he wanted to.” 

“Valid point,” Jeonghan grumbles, teasingly pushing you back towards the bar as if reminding you of your duties, sick of hearing the constant praise that only you’re receiving, even though there have been no additional visitors since Jeonghan’s entourage of golfers arrived. He’s quick to enthusiastically round up the crew, realizing daylight will quickly dwindle by the last hole if they don’t start back up soon. “Welp, we better let Y/N continue to work. Ready for hole 10?” 

The men are quick to gather, knocking back the remainder of their drinks, and returning to their carts as Jeonghan helps you clean up the finished glasses, your shoulders bumping into each other as you two push your way back into the bar. Mr. Choi sends a knowing look Jeonghan’s way, neither of you catching it as he wishes you a nice Fourth of July. 

“Thank you, Mr. Choi!” You wave to the man, bidding the rest of the golfing crew a nice holiday as well before turning to Jeonghan who’s finished carrying over the rest of the empty glasses. “Catch you later, Hannie?”

“Of course,” Jeonghan’s eyes lit up yet again upon hearing his childhood nickname, and is reminded of the nearing shenanigans later this afternoon. Maybe he’ll steal some snacks from the members gifting table for tonight. “I’ll see you then stay cool, Y/N!”

“You as well! Make sure to reapply your sunscreen,” you shout back, watching as Jeonghan hops in the cart with Mr. Choi and rolls his eyes at your nagging. Mr. Choi gets one final laugh before Jeonghan drives off, the entourage of golfers following closely behind. 

You’re finishing cleaning up the bar, pulling the cash from your pocket earlier and gasping upon realizing just how much Mr. Choi had tipped you. A five-hundred dollar tip. It was surely the most you’ve ever made in one round of drinks, absolutely unwarranted, and it made you feel a bit teary-eyed. You knew you couldn’t dare to return it, as Mr. Choi would definitely be offended, but you felt extremely lucky to have such nice members visit you at the halfway house, you’d have to thank him eventually. 

The rest of the day went quickly, and, much to your delight, you had made enough tips to support a chunk of your tuition and expenses for the year. Also, your manager had swapped shifts with another supervisor mid-day, who was not as hawklike. 

Leading up to the completion of your shift, you had snuck a pair of alcoholic shooters into your uniform skirt. Even in your attempt to be rebellious, you couldn’t just steal the shooters, using some of your tip money to cover the cost of the alcohol and you felt less criminal. You knew Jeonghan would tease you relentlessly about this if he was here, each shooter was no more than $3 each, but you had a knack for doing the “right thing,” or else you feared karma would get you in the long run. 

Upon reaching the end of your shift, you stopped back at the employee locker room to safely store your tips in your purse. The day had been hot, but it was cooling down now that night was approaching. 

Ultimately, you opt to throw on a sweatshirt, one that Jeonghan had purchased when you two had toured your university, which was the same one that he’d worn so many times that it’s the most comfortable piece of clothing you own. One that he couldn’t deny you of when you begged to keep it, secretly thinking that you looked cute in it even though you were practically swimming in the fabric. Disgusted that he’d even thought that, he dismissed you quickly and said you could keep it. 

The sun was setting minute by minute, meaning that Jeonghan’s shift would be finishing very soon, and you packed away the remainder of your items in your employee locker, double-checking that your skirt still had the tiny plastic alcohol bottles hidden away. 

After confirming you had said shots, you headed out to hole 12 with a spring in your step. It was a meeting spot you and Jeonghan had found your summer after freshman year of high school. There was a hill behind a bunch of trees that overlooked the valley where the main portion of the country club was located. No one was allowed on the course during after-hours, but this spot was so dark and secluded that you two hadn’t been caught yet. It was also the prime viewing spot for the club’s fireworks show, and it was your little secret. 

You were first to make it to the spot, plopping down on the hill and huffing in relief. Your legs ached a little from standing all day. The grass beneath you was dewy from the cool nighttime air, the humid heat from the day settling on the greenery, and it was almost enough to make you feel itchy. However, you don’t mind it, not when you have the fireworks show to look forward to. You would never mind the damp grass, especially not when you had a favorite summer tradition to share with your favorite person, your best friend. 

Jeonghan’s shift ended a bit later than yours, but he didn’t arrive at the spot much later than you. He meant to grab a bag of popcorn or something, but he didn’t want to leave you hanging for too long. 

Jeonghan tried to sneak up on you, but you’re too smart, too knowing of his antics. So when you turn around knowingly, with two opened Whiskey shooters in hand, he chuckles almost maniacally at your annoyed expression that doesn’t fully translate into your impish eyes. You two were one and the same. 

“What are you waiting for, Hannie? These shots aren’t getting any colder. Not when they’ve been in my skirt for the past hour.”

“Eugh, now you’re the one oversharing,” Jeonghan groans in disapproval, sitting down next to you on the grass, and gratefully accepting the shot regardless of your TMI comment. Your knees knock each other as you turn to face him, but a friendly touch isn’t foreign to either of you. “You’re the gross one, Y/N.” 

“Oh, shut up,” you giggle, holding the shot out in front of him and teasingly shaking the plastic bottle. You sing song, “The night’s not getting any younger either.”  

Nodding in acknowledgment, Jeonghan smirks and shares a few words, “Cheers to our last summer before we’re miserable college students. Cheers to fewer hours spent in the heat at this country club. Cheers to our everlasting friendship.” 

With his final words, you’re both knocking back your shots, groaning in unison as the spicy drink burns and settles in your stomach, instantly warming your body at the sensation. Your face scrunches up at the taste and Jeonghan can’t help but laugh uncontrollably.

“Stop it,” you whine, your voice a bit hoarse from the alcohol but smiling nonetheless. “You aren’t any better than me. Anyways, that's enough for me tonight.”

“True,” Jeonghan contemplates, but he’s quick to poke you. “But I didn’t struggle as bad as you did.” 

“Touché,” you hum, nudging Jeonghan’s shoulder excitedly as a warning firework darts into the sky, indicating the show will be beginning shortly. “It’s starting!” 

“Alright, alright,” Jeonghan is groaning at your bony elbow yet again digging into him, but he’s delighted by your excitement regardless, shoving you back as you begin to readjust for the show. “Calm down, it’s nothing crazy.” 

“No, Jeonghan,” you grin, turning your head to fully make eye contact with his wide eyes, joy flickering in your own as you peer at your best friend. “It’s nothing crazy, but it’s absolutely so special because once again we get to enjoy it here together.” 

Your emphasis on the word together almost makes him shiver, a foreign feeling rushing through him as you continue to gaze at him with those wild eyes of yours, gulping as he hesitantly nods, even though he wholeheartedly agrees it is special, but he’s not exactly sure why. “Very true,” and as if on cue, the fireworks show begins, relief flooding through him as you redirect your gaze and squeal in excitement. 

Jeonghan doesn’t understand why, but his heart pounds in his chest throughout the entire show. He thinks maybe it’s the alcohol (you and he rarely have dared to sneak alcohol before), maybe it’s the overstimulation of the fireworks, maybe it’s the thrill of knowing the golf course guards could spot you any year and escort you away, or maybe it’s the way your knee keeps brushing his thigh reminding him of just how close you two are. How much you are together here alone, just like every other summer. 

It’s a feeling he decides to ignore for the rest of the fireworks, letting himself lay back on the damp grass with you and listening as you enthusiastically point out your favorite fireworks, bickering with you when he thinks a different type of firework is prettier. 

It’s a feeling he continues to ignore as the finale comes and goes, chest fluttering at the way your eyes sparkle with golden reflections of the fireworks in the sky, and once again quickly redirecting his gaze to anything but you. 

It’s a feeling he tries his damnedest to ignore as you both continue to lay in the grass post-fireworks. Neither one of you making the first move to go home. Maybe you thought this would be the final moment of normalcy between you and Jeonghan before starting university, knowing that all friendships are bound to change with such a new chapter. Maybe he thought he’d figure out whatever it was he was feeling if he just stayed here with you a moment longer. 

It’s a feeling he struggles to ignore as you both fall into deep conversation. The one shot of alcohol makes you both loose-lipped as you reminisce on embarrassing high school stories. Reminiscing on your shitty boyfriend who broke up with you before the summer. Reminiscing on your years of friendship. 

It’s a feeling he no longer can ignore when you roll over, lips pouting and eyes teary as you start to feel emotional about your recent breakup. Something in him feels like it shatters when you ask, “Have you ever been in love before, Hannie?” 

[luvhughes43]

stress relief | luca fantilli

luvhughes43 masterlist🌷

request: I have a request for Luca! Readers really stressed out about friends and about life and everything going on, and Lucas always there to be her rock and just comfort his girl.

word count: 0.8k

This past week has been hard. With winter break now over and the new semester beginning you were absolutely exhausted. You had spent way too much time lounging around during the break that now that you needed to get back in routine you were struggling. On top of the late nights plus trying to organize yourself for the new semester, your friends have been fighting with each other and are now demanding you “pick a side”.

It was ridiculous honestly. They were fighting about something that took place over new years eve, and their weeks of fighting have pooled over into your life. Ergo, your friends weren’t hanging out with you until you decided on who was in the right. 

And to further bring stress to your life, the schools bookstore had completely fucked you over so you were now out $40 dollars and missing a book you needed to have read for next week. 

When you pulled up to Lucas' off-campus house, you nearly cried in relief. His schedule had been crazy busy recently and you had missed your boyfriend in the meantime. 

You walked into the unlocked house, and tramped your way upstairs before finding yourself in Lucas' room. He was on his phone and when the door swung open his attention was immediately yours. 

He frowned at the sight of you. “What's wrong?” he asked softly, ridding you of your bag and guiding you over to his bed. 

You lay in bed and toss his comforter over you. “Everything”

You felt the bed dip, and then Luca was speaking again. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

It was childish, but you huffed anyway. “My friends are fighting, and they won't hang out until I decide who’s in the right. I'm tired all the time. And the bookstore messed up my order and are taking too long to refund me” 

When Luca doesn’t immediately respond you contine, “and I need to have that one specific book they don't have in stock read by next week. Like what the fuck? The prof is strict on what version you need to read too so it's not like I can get it off amazon because it has to be the bookstore version!” you groan, hiding your face in Lucas’ bedding. 

He places a hand on your blanket covered back, rubbing soothingly as he thinks of something to say. “Do you want to get out of here?”

You perk up at his words, “what?” “Let's go. You and me, improvised date,”

“Luca…” 

“No, this will help alleviate your stress! Let’s go,” Luca smiled, pulling you out of his bed and then pocketing his wallet and keys. 

At first, Luca takes you out for dinner. Which is much needed considering how impossibly bad the meal hall food is. 

After dinner, you do a little retail shopping, and then a little walk around campus. The fresh air is starting to work its wonders when Luca starts talking. 

“I can go to the bookstore with you tomorrow to help you sort out the refund thing,” he says, but it comes out more of a question.

“Thank you,” you respond, squeezing his hand as you continue walking. 

“And about your friends, I can also help you figure out a plan. It's not fair that they’re making you choose sides” he continues, reciprocating your hand squeeze. 

You hum in response as Luca leads you back to his car. “Can I stay the night at yours?” you ask. 

Luca enthusiastically says that you can stay over, and the two of you find your way back to his place. 

When you walk into his bedroom there is a bouquet of assorted flowers waiting for you. “Luca…” “I had them delivered when you went to the bathroom earlier,” he confesses and shrugs his shoulders like it was nothing.

His gesture makes you grin ear to ear, and when he hands you the bouquet you feel like melting. How was it that Luca understood you so perfectly? It wasn’t necessarily about the gifts, or dinner either. You tended to overreact in situations therefore him taking the time to hang out with you and distract you from your stresses meant the world. Also, him wanting to help you navigate your stressors? He was so sweet.

“Thank you,” you whisper, setting the bouquet down onto his desk so you could properly kiss him. 

“You don't have to thank me,” Luca says between kisses. 

You don’t protest, knowing that whatever you say Luca would rebuttal. Instead, you let him guide you into his bed so that the two of you could cuddle. It was things like this that made all your worries melt away.

[merakiui]

Hi hi ~

What are your thoughts on professor/TA twst characters x college student reader ??? I literally cannot stop thinking about Prof ashengrotto who just adores the sweet and diligent student who sits in the front of the class, always participating, always turns in assignments on time... Prof ashengrotto who grades your papers mercilessly knowing you'll barge into his office biting back tears because who's grade is this?? Certainly not yours?? What if you lose your scholarship?? Whoever is going to help you???

p p pp p p pppp professor.........ashengrotto..........

(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, one-sided student-professor relationship, age gap (azul is 38 & reader is 23), coercion, abuse of power/authority, implied dub-con)

He's ruthless with every paper he grades, but he's especially ruthless with you. Professor Ashengrotto has a reputation in his department: socially, he's handsome and young (a mere thirty-eight, and he's just as bright, if not brighter, than some of the older professors). Academically, he's brilliant and very knowledgeable when it comes to business and the economy (and interestingly enough he has a penchant for marine biology as well), but he pushes students to do their very best. And to some that may seem like he's too hard or difficult, but he's actually very understanding and if you meet him outside of the classroom he's not as intimidating as he appears at the lectern.

But even so he expects his students to strive for the best possible grades. He wants everyone to pass his classes, but he also won't cut corners or raise grades even if they're a point or so away. He claims he's fair when it comes to grading, but sometimes it feels like he deliberately grades for every possible mistake rather than the content itself. At least, that's how it feels with your work. He took off points for a few grammar errors (of all things) and even took off points regarding very minor discrepancies in your information. When you brought it up to him after class, he'd simply told you, "You should know your subject if you're going to write a report on them and obviously, from the looks of your most recent paper, you do not."

It was a report on the intelligence of the octopus. You'd spent hours poring over textbooks and academic journals. You'd penned every reliable source, every fact, every study and its data. How any of that was "incorrect" is beyond you. You even cited every source properly! What is he even thinking, marking you for "incorrect information"?

In your defense, you are not a marine biology major. You're just taking a class because you need course credits and this was one of the few that provided you with the extra hours needed. You know Professor Ashengrotto from the business classes you're taking. He's just as cutthroat there. Apparently, the academic world is just as ruthless as the business world (at least in Professor Ashengrotto's eyes).

As if your professor can't get any harsher, he does. He failed your most recent report for one of the business courses, and it hurt your grade a considerable amount. So, like clockwork, you find yourself in his office, your paper nearly crumpled in your fist with how tightly you're gripping it. You can't fail out of his class. You need to keep a certain grade average each semester if you intend to keep your scholarship, your status as an honors student, your roles in certain clubs and extracurriculars. You verbalize these worries to him and he smiles and proposes an offer: You can redo the entire report so long as you take care to do a better job. It sounds great until you hear the deadline. Three days. He's giving you three days. Three days to write an entire report from the ground up because he won't accept changes made to the already existing paper. Three days.

Three days.

You think you might go insane.

Oh, but the fair and polite Professor Ashengrotto has a suggestion! He's willing to extend that time if you meet with him for coffee to discuss further. Stupidly, you agree right away, thanking him for his understanding, and he continues to smile, to say he really does get it. University is taxing; he knows. He's been there before. He just wants to help you; this is your future, after all.

On your way out of his office, you fail to notice the pale eyes that stick themselves to your rear as you retreat. The door shuts behind you, and only then do you realize the nature of the agreement. Meeting up for coffee. Outside of class. Outside of office hours. Meeting up...for coffee. Why does that feel...wrong, somehow? Why does it unsettle you?

But you need to amend your grades. You need to pass. You need to secure your future. So you push your discomfort aside and prepare yourself for the weekend.

- - -

It's strange to see Professor Ashengrotto without his usual pressed suits, luxury wristwatch, expensive ties, and shined shoes. He's almost...casual in his black turtleneck sweater, grey trench coat, and black slacks. He looks almost like a fellow student, so much so that his appearance startles you when you spot him sitting in a corner of the comfortable coffee shop.

To your speechless stare, he chuckles and asks, "Am I not allowed to dress comfortably on my days off?"

And then it hits you. This is his day off. This is your day off. This is not an academic setting. This is...

You shake your head and slide into the seat across from him. "Sorry. It just surprised me." You're digging through your bag to distract yourself, now acutely aware of his stare pinned on you. "I brought my laptop and was hoping you could look over my sources. I spent all of last night compiling them, so maybe if you had a chance to review them I might know what to do to avoid making the same mistakes. And I also started a new thesis. I don't think the other one was working. Maybe that's where I went wrong and so if I just change—"

"Is everything all right?"

You blink, your gaze lifting to meet his. "Sorry?"

"Are you okay? You seem frazzled."

"Well, I mean, yeah. That should be obvious." You cough, realizing your reply was harsh, and fix it with, "I'm trying to manage the workload from your classes and my other classes, Professor."

"Please. Call me Azul."

Your face scrunches in distaste. It doesn't sound right to refer to any professor by their first name, even if some of them have noted they don't particularly mind it. With Professor Ashengrotto, it feels far too casual. You don't like it.

And as if things can't get anymore casual, they do when a waitress arrives to deliver two cups of coffee and pastries. You stare at it. It's brewed just the way you like it. Even the pastry is your favorite. You fix Professor Ashengrotto with a questioning stare.

"You mentioned it in one of our introductions."

"My favorite coffee and pastry?" You frown, combing through your brain for when you might have said so. It's highly possible when you introduced yourself to your peers at the start of the semester. "Oh. Well, allow me to pay you back for—"

"There's no need." He smiles at you. It's gentler this time. You don't like it.

"No, I insist. How much was it? I'll give you the exact change right now."

You're fumbling for your wallet when his arm reaches across the table. A warm hand closes around yours.

"Professor Ashengrotto?"

"Azul," he corrects evenly. "And please don't worry about it. Everyone needs a little pick-me-up every now and then, yes?"

His fingers curl into yours, nearly entwining, and you yank your hand away, icy horror creeping up your spine. He blinks at you, as if stunned, before composing himself and drawing back. You stare between your wallet and laptop before pocketing the former and turning the latter on.

"Well, if you really don't want me to pay you back... Then let's get back to the matter at hand."

For the rest of your afternoon, you resign yourself to academic discussions. It's easy to fall into that rhythm, and Professor Ashengrotto offers helpful insight as he reviews everything you show him. By the end of it, you're relieved to have finished such a draining discussion. More importantly, you're glad you can leave this coffee shop and never return again (at least not with Professor Ashengrotto).

He reminds you to have it submitted before midnight at the end of the week. You thank him for his help and, just to ease your anxious heart, leave him with a few Madol for the drink and the pastry. On your way out, you feel his eyes on you, watching you make the walk to your car. Those eyes never leave, even after you've driven away.

It can't get any worse, you tell yourself.

You submit your revised paper a minute after midnight. And, apparently, by your professor's standards it's late. He gives you half credit. It hardly raises your grade. If anything, it lowers it a few points.

Like a bad song on repeat, you find yourself in his office yet again. And like before he proposes the same fix: coffee and revision. Stupidly, you agree to another weekend spent in discomfort. It's for the sake of your grades. It's for the sake of your scholarships. It's for the sake of your future, so you can sacrifice slivers of your sanity.

You have to if you want to pass.

- - -

Though it feels like you're improving in his class, your grade does not reflect this. You're not sure how many more coffee dates you can take. You're not sure how many more Please. Call me Azuls you can take. You're not sure how many fleeting touches you can take, each one seeming more invasive than the last. You hold your tongue and swallow disgust because your grades are in his capable hands. You need good grades. You need to pass. You need to, you need to, you need to.

You're in his office again, but this time your resolve has shattered and you're crying. You hate every moment of this. You hate feeling so cornered. Most of all, you hate how empty the building gets at this time of day.

"I don't know what you want anymore," you admit in a broken whisper. "I'm trying so hard. I've revised paper after paper, I've discussed everything over coffee, and I've done my best to improve. I listen and take notes. I ask questions. I'm never distracted. I always study the material. So what am I doing wrong? What am I supposed to do to pass? I can't lose my chances at being considered for certain scholarships..."

Professor Ashengrotto wears sympathy like it's a counterfeit of a luxury scarf. It almost fools you, but then he's rising from his seat, crossing the distance to the door, and you know his care stems from something else. Something wicked and foul.

"I'm sorry to hear you're struggling. I'm here to help, but I can't help if you aren't willing to put in enough time to submit good work—and submit it on time, might I add. This is a team effort, after all."

But I am putting in enough time! you want to say, but the words won't come. Your throat is closing up, raw and ragged from sobbing.

"If you're so concerned, I can offer you an alternative." His voice has dropped dangerously low. You don't dare turn around to face him. You can't when you hear the door shut and lock with an ominous click. "This deal is a double-edged sword. It will hurt both of us should the wrong people catch wind of it."

His shoes click out steady steps against the linoleum. He bends down to view you, hunched and horrified, in your chair. "But you're smart, so I know I can count on my little honor student to keep their pretty mouth shut." He smiles a sharp, nasty smile and draws back, leaning against his desk with his arms folded primly over his chest. "So let's help each other. Team effort, after all."

"P-Professor Ashengrotto, I don't think this is...appropriate."

He quirks a brow at you, and his normally soft, powdery hues are dark and stormy. "You want to pass, don't you? I could fail you right here, right now. Take one step out of this office and you'll never know success in any of my classes ever again." The light must have drained from your eyes because he chuckles again, tutting softly. "Don't make that expression. I'm not cruel. I'm giving you an opportunity to improve your grades. If I were you, I'd take it."

You weigh your grades and your integrity. Is the former really that important? You can survive one failure, right? Anything would be better than this horror. Anything would be better, right? So why are you hesitating?

You stare at your lap and, very quietly, ask, "What is it you want?"

"Get on your knees and put that smart mouth of yours to work. If you're good, I might consider giving you extra credit."

It's for the sake of your grades, so you have no choice.

[1d1195]

Protection VI

You can read Protection here. Hard to believe it's only probably four parts left! This got a little bit away from me, I think. I hope it makes sense!

Here we are: 6.5K words.

Warnings: fluff, smut 18+ only , angst(?)

He wished he could meet her mom. Wished with everything in him he could meet the woman responsible for the girl that drove him mad—mad with annoyance or madly in love. It didn’t matter.

With her new vow to be a downright angel, she knew she was nearly boring to keep watch over. In addition, she had finals coming up; it was hard for her to do anything but study and work. Harry was endlessly helpful and kind. He made runs to get her coffee and read off her flashcards. Quizzed her on all the topics she worried about most throughout the semester, laughing every time she easily corrected his mispronunciation of the scientific words.

“What d’you want t’do once y’get your degree?” He asked.

She smirked. “I’m not sure. At one point I wanted to work for the EPA; sometimes I think about being a professor,” she shrugged. Harry thought if she was his professor, he would have never passed a single class. He would be too busy staring at her. “When I was younger, I watched a bunch of CSI shows with my mom and I wanted to be one of the scientists in the lab. It’s a bit dramatized on TV though, so I put it on the backburner. I could work in the bio-medicinal field,” she explained. “I would get to help make drugs and medicines and things.”

“Y’really like this stuff?” He asked curiously looking at the gibberish words on the cards in his hands.

She smiled excitedly. “A lot, it’s like a puzzle.”

“I’ve done a puzzle before love,” he shook his head. “S’not a puzzle.”

She giggled this adorable giggle that Harry was so smitten for. It was like his favorite song. He started to dream about her laughter. The days he had off seemed endless now—just waiting to come right back to her place and watch a rom-com before she fell asleep. If he had it his way, he would have moved into her second bedroom. He would have requested to be by her side, 24/7.

“When do you do errands?” She asked scribbling something in her notebook. It was approaching nine at night which meant they were going to start a movie to help her relax before she picked up studying as soon as she woke up. Harry was sitting on the sofa as he always did. She sat on the floor, so she had the ability to freely move around her séance circle of papers, note cards, laptop, and textbooks.

“Jus’ usually do it on m’day off,” he shrugged.

She frowned. “We could do them when I’m out and about. It doesn’t seem fair that we’re like...at Target and you can’t grab a few things.”

“S’protocol,” he smiled. Then he chuckled shaking his head at her as she rolled her eyes so hard, she turned her neck along with the motion at his words.

“I hate protocol,” she reminded him.

“I know.”

“When do you see Niall?” He stared at her silently. Wondering how on Earth she knew who Niall was. She glanced at him as she looked over her notes. But then did a double take when he looked at her as if she suddenly grew a second nose. She tilted her head curiously. Harry’s expression went blank as he searched through every moment that he had spoken to her over the last four or so months, trying to remember when he mentioned Niall’s name. After a moment of trying to figure out his hesitation, she giggled, realizing what she had done. “I told you I ran a background check of my own,” she reminded him.

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. She didn’t need a security detail. She was more than capable of protecting herself. Harry was glad he was here all the same, but it was a moment like this that he felt she was independent enough to do whatever she wanted and knew exactly how to save herself. “On m’days off.”

“Did he tell you I ran into him?” She asked.

He shook his head feeling like he was abducted by an alien and put in an alternate dimension. “No,” he put the flashcards on the table. “When did y’see him?”

Her cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink. “I went to the office,” she told him. His eyebrows rose on his forehead. He blinked at her as if he was just seeing her for the first time.

“You what?” His voice was flat.

“I was sure he was going to tell you about it,” she frowned and looked curiously at her papers.

“I haven’t seen him in a bit, he doesn’t always have the same time off as me,” he explained.

She nodded. “Oh...well, I kind of yelled at your supervisor.”

Harry knew she was...headstrong. He had seen the way she spoke to people who made her mad. But somehow, he had a hard time imagining the girl before him going to a government office and yelling at a grown man. What’s more, he was probably scared of her too. Harry was at a loss for words. No idea what to say or do. “You...yelled?” He was practically breathless. The words hardly reached her ears. She yelled at his supervisor.

She nodded again, easily. Obviously. As if that were a regular occurrence. “It was right after my hospital stay,” she murmured. Harry felt his heart freeze over at the mere mention of that awful weekend. If Harry was around, he was never going to let something like that happen to her ever again. He was sure of it. “When you were acting all weird towards me.”

Harry still felt bad that she noticed that. It took over a week for normalcy to come back to him. His supervisor told him it was unacceptable and made them look bad. Unfortunately, Harry full-heartedly agreed and since he was throwing himself a pity party of feeling terrible about it, he let his supervisor help in making him feel worse. “Oh,” he was still so utterly confused. “M’sorry. M’not really following. I...why did you—”

“I...I really...appreciate how you treat me,” she interrupted. She looked up from her papers. “I really do feel safe when you’re around,” she looked at him shyly, through her gorgeous eyelashes that nearly brushed the bottom of her eyebrows. Harry felt like he was melting into her sofa. He had grabbed her flashcards just so he didn’t do something stupid like pull her into his lap and kiss her until he needed oxygen. “So when...you didn’t want to be around me, I was really sad and hurt. More than I think I would have been if...” she shrugged off the rest of the sentence. Harry knew what she meant: more than the reason why she was at the hospital. “You stopped taking the extra shifts and stuff...and I know that you have your own life but...it’s enjoyable to be around you. I didn’t want to run away from you or do stupid things... or any of my normal stuff. But you didn’t want to be around me,” she mumbled quietly. She swallowed the lump in her throat thinking about how truly awful it would be to not see Harry for any length of time. His standoff nature broke her heart, and it was only a few days. She wasn’t sure what would happen when she no longer needed nor had a security detail. “You were all upset, and it was their fault.”

Harry felt so guilty again. “Oh,” he frowned. “M’sorry, love...I jus’...I was so upset that y’got hurt because of me—”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she shook her head. Her tone said there was no arguing with her. They had gone through this already anyway. There was no use in rehashing it. But Harry would probably feel guilty for the rest of his life.

“I would have blamed anyone that was supposed t’keep an eye on you that day,” he tried explaining once more. “S’not...we don’t have t’make it a thing, but I jus’ want y’to know I feel really guilty about it.”

She sighed. “You shouldn’t,” she said simply. Neither spoke, the silence was comfortable though. It was like a warm blanket. She scribbled a bit and Harry flipped through her index cards. “Favorite tree?” She asked quietly.

“Tree?” He smirked. She nodded. He shook his head with a chuckle and thought about trees. Did he even know if he had a favorite tree? “Uh...oak, I guess.”

“Mine’s a Christmas tree.”

“Oh, no fair,” he pouted. “That’s a good one.”

“I want to get a Christmas tree,” she told him. “Maybe we could do that instead of a movie,” she suggested.

“You’re in charge, love.”

She rolled her eyes. “Only kind of.” He smiled. “Favorite number?”

“I don’t have one,” he admitted.

She blinked. “Hmm. Mine is fourteen,” she told him. “I don’t know why. Just speaks to me.”

He would have to remember that. “Favorite cereal?”

A beat of silence. “Coco puffs, I think.”

“What’s your favorite book?” He asked.

She bit the inside of her lip. “I think I’d rather die than pick.” He chuckled at her response.

*

She put on a Christmas rom-com while they decorated the tree. Harry chuckled at some joke on the TV, but she could not be bothered to pay attention. Harry was helping decorate her Christmas tree. Just like how he helped decorate her apartment with a million flowers. Harry paused his decorating, however, to focus on the movie. He stood in the middle of her living room, hands holding the string of lights while he stared at the screen intently. Invested in whatever was happening. Since she couldn’t be bothered to know even the basic plot, she took that time to gaze at Harry without a care. She wondered if it was possible that he had gotten more beautiful. Or maybe she just looked at him differently now.

Her mom would have loved Harry. She could practically picture her saying oh, he’s very handsome, with a little giggle. She would like how he was snippy with her. In fact, she imagined her mom saying something like, you’re too hard on, Harry. Don’t be so mean. She bit the inside of her lip and closed her eyes tightly to keep from crying. Harry had carried the tree from the car to the apartment with ease. It didn’t even look like it was heavy for him. He’s strong too, that’ll be good when you have babies. She shook her head of the daydream. Babies with Harry. Babies that wouldn’t meet their grandma. God, she missed her mom so much.

“Are y’alright, love?” He asked quietly. She blinked her eyes open. He was looking at her nervously. Like all the other times she was hurt in his presence. She worried he would take her to the hospital just for looking upset.

She nodded. “Just...thinking about my mom,” she mumbled and turned her attention to the tree. It wasn’t a lie, not really anyway.

“M’sorry, love. Did...did your mum like Christmas?”

She nodded sullenly. “Was our favorite.”

He looked at her flowery walls. Poinsettias and snowdrops. Harry wished there was mistletoe fixed to the ceiling somewhere. He would stand under it all day with her. He let her mull in silence about her mum. Maybe it was good to think about her. “I don’t know how y’do it.”

“Do what?”

Harry shook his head and shrugged. “Live. Think I would die without m’mum,” he told her.

She smiled weakly, tiredly. “I think a part of me did,” she shrugged. “But...my mom...” she rolled her eyes, and her smile grew as she thought her over. “Oh, she would have...” she giggled making Harry smile. “She would be so mad if I stopped living just because she did.”

Harry nodded. “My mum’s the same way.”

She had only a small bandage on her hand now. Harry had been taking very careful care of it. Making sure it healed properly and didn’t get in her way too much. “I miss her,” she told Harry. “I miss her every day...” she turned to look at Harry again. “She would have loved you.”

Harry felt some kind of pride that he didn’t know he needed. Knowing her favorite person in the universe would have loved him. “Yeah?”

She was all smiles now. Her giggle was infectious. “She would tell me I was being awful for you.”

“Well, then I love her too,” Harry rolled his eyes and he swore his heart grew to fill the entire space of his chest as she laughed her real, unfiltered laugh. He wished he could meet her mom. Wished with everything in him he could meet the woman responsible for the girl that drove him mad—mad with annoyance or madly in love. It didn’t matter.

*

Since Harry had been helping her study—or even since he started and watched her study, he knew all the signs of frustration and burnout. “Love, maybe a break?” He murmured. She shook her head.

“I hate this class.”

“You’re going t’do great, love,” he encouraged.

She rubbed her temples and sighed. “Can...” she looked at him sitting quietly on the other sofa, he was reading a book. She was so boring now, he could sit and read as much as he wanted. He tilted his head at her. “Are you busy?” She asked.

He smiled at her. “Does it look like m’busy?”

She shrugged. “It looks like a good book, is all.”

“M’not busy. Not for you,” he promised.

Her heart fluttered. He wasn’t too busy for her. She bit the inside of her lip. “Could you help me?” She asked quietly.

He folded the corner of the page down and nodded. “Course, love.”

Her asking for help was a really big deal. Normally, he just helped her. It never got to the point of her asking. Hence why it was so monumental when she was alone in the park and called Harry. It had to be nearly catastrophic when she injured herself in the kitchen and she called out for him instinctively. But somehow this moment outshone both of those. Sitting on her floor, papers spread about. Her needing his help to study was some form of intimacy that he wasn’t sure he could fully articulate how...wonderful it was.

He sat beside her on the floor and took her index cards as he was accustomed to doing. The pile was now at least three hundred cards thick. It was no surprise she was nervous. Harry wasn’t sure how she would retain all of it either. She stared at the study guide rubbing her forehead. “Okay...” she sighed. “This section, molecular symmetry and its relationship to vibrational spectroscopy and bonding, is giving me the most trouble.”

He stared at her as she looked over her notes. Harry set aside the section of index cards she didn’t need. She looked adorable, pursed lips and concentrated expression. He still hated the way her forehead creased with worry. He swore she was always two minutes away from a headache because of it and she failed to drink enough water to support her brain.

If I drank enough water, I would be too much for the world. She told him. I’d be unstoppable.

He must have been staring too long because she turned to look at him. “What?” She asked touching her cheek. “Do I have pizza on my face still, you’re supposed—”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re fine, love. Jus’...I literally haven’t a clue what you’re talking ‘bout. Spectroscopy?” He murmured. She smirked and shrugged. “You should have been a florist. Y’wouldn’t have had t’give yourself headaches,” he explained as he got to the section of index cards she referred to.

“Maybe in my next life.”

He chuckled. “D’you believe in a next life?”

She nodded. “For the sake of my mom I do,” she mumbled.

Harry was looking at her, she could feel it on the side of her face. If she looked at him, she was afraid she would burst into tears and never stop. It was something about her apartment being decorated for Christmas that had her feeling so much more...she was so upset that she would never meet Harry. Harry wasn’t even hers. “Your mum would be really proud of you,” he promised.

“I hope so.”

“I know so.”

She looked at him finally. His green eyes met hers and she thought if he wasn’t her bodyguard, she would kiss him and probably never stop kissing him. She would become part of the floor and kiss him until her mouth hurt. Until her lungs screamed for air. He was perfect. Truly. It was awful she made him work so hard up until the past couple weeks. She would never forgive herself for that. He smiled at her. “Do I have pizza on m’face?” He asked.

She shook her head and blushed as she looked back at her study guide. She had to be careful, or she was going to fail merely because Harry was so pretty just sitting beside her, it distracted her.

*

After three hours of studying, they put on a movie. She was practically asleep before it started. Her body slumped across the couch. Harry glanced at her eyes, practically little slits. “Can y’even see?” He asked.

“See enough,” she mumbled. He stood up and draped a soft blanket with a Christmas tree pattern over the length of her. She was in leggings and a long-sleeved T-shirt. She was so pretty. Her hair was pulled to a bun on the top of her head and Harry just wanted to kiss her sleepy, pretty face. She sighed. “M’gonna fall asleep.”

“S’okay, love,” he chuckled sitting back on the other couch.

“M’too tired to get to my room.”

“I can carry you.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

He rolled his eyes and let out a note of laughter. “I don’t mind.”

“I do. M’too heavy.”

“You are not. S’this a comment on m’muscle tone?”

She snorted and cuddled the throw pillow closer to her face. It smushed her cheek against the fabric. Harry wanted to put her in his pocket, she was so adorable. “No...I don’t know...I mean—When do you even have time to work out?”

“I usually jus’ workout in m’time off, or while you’re asleep.”

“You go home at midnight and do a workout?” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t even want to do a workout past five in the evening.”

He smiled. “You’re not heavy,” he repeated.

“M-hmm...I think I ate my weight in pizza today.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re so stubborn.”

She smiled. “Leave me here,” she mumbled and drifted off to sleep. But Harry was stubborn too, so he carried her to her room. If he could, he would have taken a video of the pair of them just to show her.

“Harry,” she murmured sleepily once she was lying in her comfy bed. Harry’s heart felt like it was going to explode. Her eyes didn’t open, and she didn’t speak again. In fact, she had fallen asleep around him a lot and he had never heard her talk while she dreamed. He wanted to lay down right beside her, hold her, squeeze her. Tell her that he adored her and everything: her exam, stuff with her dad, her missing her mom, and everything her beautiful, brilliant mind worried about would be okay.

But instead, he gently smoothed part of her hair back and left her to dream.

Hopefully, about him.

*

Harry walked up to her apartment and waved to the agent outside as he looked down at his phone. He brought her a coffee to celebrate the end of her exams. The agent left and Harry waited until he was fully gone to let himself into her apartment.

She was on the phone and smiling like it was already Christmas. Like she had gotten the best gift of all.  Harry smirked and placed his stuff at her dining table and then held the coffee up for her to see. She bit the inside of her lip to keep from squealing. Harry settled her cup down on the table as well as she spoke to the other end of her phone. “Thank you. Thank you so much,” she said gratefully. “Happy holidays. Have a wonderful break.”

The moment her phone was on the counter she was running across her apartment and throwing herself at Harry. He staggered back a step at the impact. Her arms tossed around his shoulders, and she sighed as she breathed into his shirt. He was taller than her of course. By at least half a foot. She was on her tiptoes, and it felt like magic to hold her.

Harry felt like when she did this back in August. However, this time obviously didn’t have the hidden pretense of needing protection from some guy that couldn’t take a hint. This was real. She was really throwing herself at him and giggling like a madwoman. He wrapped his arms around her waist giving her a returning squeeze. “Mmm...y’okay there Miss Wildflower?”

She was jittery. But in a good way. She pulled from him, dropping her arms to her sides. Harry regretted asking her if she was alright. He would have much preferred her in the circle of his arms. “My professor emailed me asking me to call him,” she was giddy. Harry was in love. There was no longer a question about it. Her smile, her eyes, everything about her made his chest ache with adoration for her. “I...” she was nearly breathless. “Harry, I got the highest grade on the final.”

He rolled his eyes. Naturally he was proud and happy for her but it wasn’t all that surprising. “Of course, y’did, love. You’re brilliant and y’studied for ages.”

“No, Harry...like...ever. The highest grade ever.”

Oh. That was different. He tilted his head and smirked now understanding her excitement a little more. “Oh?”

She nodded excitedly, rocking back and forth on her feet. “He’s been teaching this course for...” she rolled her eyes. “Over twenty-five years...he was so impressed. He wants me to be his TA next semester, he wants me to do research. He thinks I should be a professor—especially because he wants to retire soon...Harry,” she was still practically bouncing with excitement. She was so adorable Harry didn’t know where to look. “Thank you,” she sighed her expression was so soft. Harry was melting for her. Right onto the floor. Just a puddle of the man he once was.

“Me?” He was shocked she was thanking him. He didn’t do anything. All he did was hold some index cards and mispronounce words for her.

“You helped me study so much...I,” she sighed. “I know I was a pain, and you didn’t deserve all that and you certainly didn’t have to help me after all that either. The studying, the crying about everything, the coffee, the...just putting up with me. It is just...thank you, truly. I am so happy. So unbelievably happy I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in m—”

Harry’s mouth was on hers.

Her brain short-circuited. Harry’s pretty pink lips were finally between hers. His hands were on each side of her face. His body curled down toward her as he kissed her. His lips were soft. So soft she wondered what chapstick he used—literally almost pulled away just to ask. But she was certain she would never pull from his lips. If she died from lack of oxygen, it would be okay. Except she worried Harry would have to do paperwork on it. Her eyes fluttered closed as soon as she felt the touch of his mouth.

Her hands fisted the sides of his shirt pulling him closer toward herself. His tongue gently stroked over her lower lip and then carefully probed at the space between her barely open teeth. Asking for silent permission to let it in her mouth. She moaned when his tongue licked hers. She could feel his heavy inhale and exhale from his nose as he breathed in and out.

Oh, it was so much better than she could have imagined. Better than she could have dreamed. She turned her face upwards allowing more access given his height. He pulled from her mouth, allowing her to breathe. But his lips didn’t stop, he kissed down the side of her throat, making her heart hammer out an unsafe rhythm. She didn’t dare speak; worried she would somehow ruin it.

This cannot be protocol. Why on earth would she care about protocol right now?

If she brought attention to the fact that Harry was willingly kissing her, he would probably stop. He seemed like the type. But instead, he brought his mouth back to hers, curled his arms around her middle long enough to almost crush her to his body. He got her toes off the ground, never stopping his kiss as he maneuvered blindly over to the sitting area. He guided her back carefully, so she went down gently on the sofa and Harry followed right after her, hips between her thighs. She groaned softly at the feeling of Harry pressing against her. This was an awful day to wear jeans. The stiff fabric had no give for her to fully feel and enjoy the way Harry grinded against her. Her leggings would have been much better. One of his hands rested at the back of her neck, his fingers gripping lightly on her hair so he could tug her closer to his mouth. The other touched her side, stroked down over her hip that bent around his waist before he slid down to her outer thigh.

“Harry,” she whimpered his lips breaking from her mouth for a moment to kiss along the side of her neck that didn’t receive attention before.

“What, love?” He mumbled. His voice seemed deeper, sexier.

She was aching everywhere. Harry wasn’t close enough. She wanted him everywhere. Wanted him to fix the ache. She had never needed anyone. Not once in her adulthood had she ever needed help from anyone nor needed anyone so much that her bones ached.

But she had never met Harry until this year. Now she wanted him to make the ache go away. “Please,” she begged.

“Please, what?” His lips brushed over the hollow space at the bottom of her throat. “Tell me,” he murmured. “I’ll give y’anything y’want,” his lips pressed to her collarbone and moved further south down the V of her T-shirt. She made an embarrassing little whiny sound out of her throat. She arched toward his mouth. Desperate for his kiss, his touch. All of it. “Tell me, love.”

She felt dizzy because despite all the stupid things she put him through, she believed he really would do anything she asked of him. The hand on her thigh moved back up toward her shirt and slid just below the hem so his fingers skimmed over her stomach. “Please,” she begged.

“‘Please’ what, kitten?” His voice was so gentle, deep. She wanted to drown in his voice. It made her chest ache to be called a new name. Honey set her on fire. Kitten was going to send her heart to the moon.

But he was smug too. He knew exactly what she wanted. Exactly. He was refusing to give it to her. Refusing to put his hand between her thighs. He brought his lips back to hers, kissing her plead, her question, all rational thought out of her mind.

“Want you,” she whispered.

“Yeah?”

She nodded. It was hard to keep calm when he spoke so gently. When his lips tasted so good and felt so soft. “Please?” She begged again.

“Love,” his voice was gentle. “I want you so bad,” he promised. Her heart felt like it was about to fly right out of her ribs and across the room.

But she still had one little neuron firing in her Harry-obsessed mind. His tone had a ‘but’ in it. She wanted to go back to kissing before she asked. Wanted to feel the lightness that drenched her and Harry as he sprinkled her with hundreds of kisses. Kisses, that if she was being honest with herself, she wanted since the day he knocked on her door for the first time.

But instead, his tone just made her feel terrible. She dropped her head back against the cushion. “S’not protocol,” he mumbled. He trailed his kisses back up her neck.

“Oh for...Harry, fuck protocol,” she moaned. She felt too warm. He chuckled against her making the little breath of laughter tickle and cool her skin. She thought she was going to pass out. She yanked on his shirt hard, trying to get him closer but she sensed it wasn’t going to happen. No matter how hard she tried.

“Easy, love.”

“Easy?” She felt agitated instantly. “M’gonna combust,” she told him breathlessly her head turning to the side.

“Good,” he said smugly pressing a wet kiss to the side of her neck. She flopped back miserably against the sofa again and looked at him through her lashes in that way that drove him crazy with adoration for her.

“You don’t...want me?”

“Kitten,” he tutted disapprovingly. He pressed his hand against her cheek. “Obviously, I want you.” Ever so subtly, his hips dipped against her leg, pressing his hard length against her thigh as proof.

“It’s not obvious,” she frowned sullenly. Even with his erection, it didn’t mean anything. He could just be horny, and she didn’t see Harry with other women often—well ever. She was here and he could just enjoy kissing or whatever. “Then—”

“M’sorry, love s’protocol,” he smirked sadly. “I jus’ want to—”

“Harry, what about me says I give two shits about protocol?” She groaned throwing her arm over her face.

He pulled it away and brushed his thumb over her cheek. “I know, kitten,” he kissed the tip of her nose. “I want to,” he promised. “But...I can’t. I can’t right now.”

“Why are you on your period?” She rolled her eyes.

“Would never pin y’as a horny thing, love,” he pressed his lips to her ear. “Is that why y’tense all the time? Just need t’come?” She was silent. Unwilling to be bated by his words into revealing something about herself or admitting she was so fucking hot for him. “M’not gonna...do this with you...not while m’working.”

“You sure know how to make a girl feel like she’s begging for sex.”

“Pretty sure y’could convince anyone t’have sex with you without begging.”

“Look in the mirror,” she muttered.

“I adore you,” he promised. His hand cupped the side of her face. “Obviously.”

She pushed him away. “So...what? We’re just going to...make out and dry hump?” She asked, frustration laced in her voice. She paced away from him quickly. Going to her room and shutting the door behind her. It wasn’t to avoid Harry. Actually, she wanted nothing more than to throw herself back at him, immediately. But if he was going to be rational, then she needed space so she could be rational too.

He knocked gently on the door. “Love,” he hummed. “Open the door.”

“No.”

He tried the handle and then sighed when it didn’t move. “Jus’...let me explain.” She waited silently. Now that she could breathe air that wasn’t heavy with Harry’s cologne or with just the scent of him, she was thinking a little more clearly. A little more like herself. He sighed again. “God, you’re annoying,” he mumbled. “I jus’...I can’t...take advantage of you,” he told the door.

“I want it,” she said petulantly. Like Harry was candy that she was being denied on Halloween.

He laughed behind the door. “I know, love. Me too.” She waited in silence again. “I don’t want t’do this while m’working. S’not fair.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s...” there was a small thunk against the door.

“I swear to God, Harry. If you say it’s protocol...” He didn’t speak giving her the answer she needed. “Why’d you kiss me then?” She groaned. “You got me all worked up.”

“I know, love. M’sorry. It was a moment of weakness...I shouldn’t have—”

“So, you really don’t want me?” She repeated sadness on the edge of her voice.

The idea that she was worried about Harry wanting her was killing him. “Kitten, open the door or I’ll break it down.”

She unlocked it and it was out of the way. His lips were back on hers in an instant. Brought her mind right back to the frenzy she felt moments ago. Her breath was lost in his mouth. He cupped her face and pecked at her upper lip as he started to chat with her. “Want nothing more than t’get y’out of your clothes and lay y’down and kiss every inch of your skin.”

If his tongue went in her mouth again she wasn't going to be able to think...maybe ever again. “But?”

“But...s’not...”

She pushed him away as much as she didn't want to, flopped onto her bed with a huff. “Harry, please,” she sighed. “What are we supposed to do? I don’t want you to not be on my detail. But we can’t...be...physical?”

“No...” he smirked. “No, we can’t.” She gazed at him curiously as he emphasized the pronoun. Harry sat beside her touching the inside of her jeans, following the seam to the middle of them below her zipper. Somehow his touch could be felt through the rough denim. She was certain if she was wearing leggings she would have come already. “I don’t want to get fired.”

“Pretty sure you’d get fired for this,” she whispered breathlessly.

He chuckled. “M’not explaining it right, love.”

“No, you’re not. M’feeling very unwanted. Which you know is...like really bad for my psyche,” Harry’s hand was literally between her thighs. He was breaking all kinds of protocol and she was still being annoying about his lack of attention to what she wanted more.

“Honey, I want you so badly,” he promised and brought his other hand to her face. He leaned down to kiss her softly. His fingers tapping almost rhythmically against the center of her jeans. “I can’t have sex with you while m’working. S’a recipe for disaster.” His fingers moved to her zipper, pulled it down. Moved back to her button, unclipped it from it’s place. "We'll figure it out, I'll kiss you and touch y'as much as y'want...but y'gotta lemme do this my way, please," he looked at her apologetically. "Know it doesn't make sense," his fingers were touching the elastic of her underwear. Her breathing hitched. “M’gonna take care of you, now. Okay? S’got nothing t’do with me or the job. S’all you, love. Y’deserve t’feel good.”

“You’re not making any sense,” her voice lacked air—it barely carried to his ears.

“I know, can’t think straight with y’looking so pretty like this,” his fingers dipped in between the opening of her jeans and the outside of her underwear. She moaned softly as his fingers moved over her. Her breath caught in her throat. Swore it stole the oxygen that went to her brain. There were no more brain cells in her head for rational thought. Thank God she took all her exams. “Y’better not fake it for me either. I know the difference in sounds y’made between the guy y’had here in September than when y’use your vibrator.” She wished she could feel embarrassed or angry toward him, but Harry’s fingers were pinching so softly but expertly at her clit she wanted to scream.

She didn’t know Harry could hear her.

“Y’make it so obvious, love. Moaning so loud for someone. S’not how y’do it. Y’get all breathy. Quiet. Hiding it. I know y’hide how y’feel...I don’t know why...but don’t y’dare think ‘bout lying t’me.”

That wasn’t going to be a problem. She had imagined Harry all over her so many times before. She was going to come in twenty seconds. “Oh...” she moaned arching into his touch. His hand slid lower, pushing her underwear out of the way and sinking a finger inside her. “Harry, please,” she begged.

“Oh, s’nice t’hear y’say please, love.”

Oh no. He was going to torture her.

“Didn’t know y’knew how t’be good.” Her toes curled. She tilted her hips up toward his fingers begging for more friction between her thighs. “Thought y’jus’ knew how t’be a pain in the butt. Didn’t know y’had manners.” Her brain was literally fried. It was an entity outside her body. The only thing she knew was Harry’s fingers on her body and his voice. His lips were pressed to her ear as he spoke. All while massaging his fingers in her folds, around her clit, and dipping inside her aching hole. It was like he was in the dark and could only use his sense of touch to find all the spots that drove her mad. She wanted to keep his hand in her pants every moment of every day. His fingers were so long and perfect and she could almost forgive him for not going further.

“Gonna listen t’me?” He asked. She nodded, gasping for air that didn't smell like Harry but enjoying that it did. “Say it,” he murmured. “For all the times y’didn’t.”

“I’ll listen,” she gasped.

“Good,” he continued rubbing leisurely. It was working her up beyond comprehension. She thought about whining at him. Or begging again. He seemed to like that enough that he might take pity on her.

But fortunately, he didn’t make her wait long.

“Come.” The knot in her stomach came undone without her even realizing it was there and ready to unravel. Her eyes fluttered as her body arched toward him. He pressed his mouth back over hers, licking her tongue. “S’a shame he couldn’t do that for you,” he murmured in her ear as her breathing settled. He gently removed his fingers from her pants, zipped and buttoned her back up.

Unironically, it felt like she had been drugged, the waves of dopamine coursing through her. Her eyelids fluttered rapidly as she watched Harry place his finger in his mouth and draw it out slowly. “Can’t wait t’taste you firsthand, kitten.”

This had to be the best day of her life. She passed her exam, she had a job opportunity, a mentor...she had...Harry and his lips and his fingers. Even if she had to figure out why he didn’t want to fully have sex. It didn’t matter. Having Harry like this, lying on her bed looking at her like she was...beautiful...

It was Christmastime. It was perfect.

She was happy. Really happy.

For all the bad stuff that happened to her, all the bad things she felt, it was nice to finally have something good. To have Harry beside her...to have finally kissed him. Those hearts in her eyes had to be back. But she swore as Harry smiled at her, she saw them in his as well. Her brain didn’t need to think about chemical bonding, O-rings, or compounds for a while. She could focus on Harry, his lips, and their movie list.

So why in the bliss of this perfect day, did a foreboding cloud of anxiety take over her mind?

--

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[bradshawsbaby]

afternoon delight

pairing: rhett abbott x girlfriend!reader

author’s note: this idea has been rolling around in my head for a while, and all the recent lew content has given me the push i needed to finally write it. i’ve been in a bit of a rut with my writing lately, so i’m just glad to be able to get this out of my system!

warnings: 18+ for explicit sexual content (semi-public sex and nearly getting caught), language, a healthy dose of fluff

Nothing was more boring than working the afternoon shift at your parents’ general store.

Well, maybe that wasn’t exactly true.

Nothing was more boring than working the afternoon shift at your parents’ general store alone.

At least when Moira or Kayla shared a shift with you, there was time for some idle chitchat and laughter. But it was a few weeks yet before the spring semester was over and the girls would return home from college for the summer, so today you were on your own.

And you were bored.

It wasn’t that nobody in Wabang visited the store in the early afternoon hours, but there was definitely a lull in the already slow activity once lunchtime rolled around. Most people in town headed home around noon for a quick snatch of respite and sustenance. That, or they headed to The Handsome Gambler for a liquid lunch. Either way, their minds certainly weren’t on buying a new shovel or a few cans of paint.

So the store remained virtually empty as the bright afternoon sun reached its zenith in the wide open sky, and you were left dusting the already clean shelves for what felt like the hundredth time since you’d arrived. Your parents would have been there working with you, but they’d taken a drive to visit one of their suppliers.

“You’ll be alright on your own for a few hours, won’t you, sweetheart?” your mama had asked before she and your dad left.

It was a rhetorical question and you both knew it. Besides the fact that your parents were already well aware there’d be hardly any customers in their absence, you’d also grown up in the store and knew how it operated like the back of your hand.

“I’ll be fine, Mama,” you assured her, waving as they headed out the door. “See ya’ll later.”

And you were fine. You were just so bored you thought you might lose your mind.

Tapping your fingers absentmindedly on the countertop near the register, you glanced down at where your phone sat, silent and still. You’d toyed with the idea of calling Rhett and asking him to come keep you company, but you knew that wasn’t fair. He had a lot to do on the ranch, especially at this time of year, and he couldn’t afford to play hooky just to keep you entertained at work. Besides, he’d already promised to take you out to dinner tonight. As much as you missed him, you knew you’d just have to be patient.

Huffing out a decidedly impatient breath, you stepped over to the ancient radio your father had refused to part with and fiddled with the knobs until you landed on a radio station you were satisfied with. At least now the silence in the store wouldn’t feel so deafening. You couldn’t help but grin as a new song began, the mildly familiar tune swirling in the warm air, among the dustmotes and beams of light spilling in from the large glass windows at the front of the store. You didn’t even know the name of it, but you knew it had been playing on the radio the other night when Rhett took you out to go stargazing, the two of you lying in the bed of his truck and lazily pointing out various constellations in between whispered words and slow kisses.

Your mood brightening considerably at the memory, you began humming softly under your breath as you decided to take the time you had to yourself to restock some of the shelves in the back of the store. Stepping into the back room, you grabbed a new box full of deodorant and shampoo and dragged it towards one of the shelves along the back wall. You were so focused on lining the shelves in the orderly manner your mother had taught you that you were caught off guard by the sound of the front door opening, the small bell tinkling to announce the arrival of a customer.

“I’ll be right with you!” you called out, your back to the entrance of the store as you reached for the last couple bottles of strawberry-scented shampoo. You smiled to yourself when you remembered the time Cecilia had come in and bought a whole case of it at a discounted price. Rhett had smelled like strawberries for over a month. Not that you minded one bit.

So caught up in the vividness of that memory were you that you didn’t register the heavy footfalls making their way down the aisle until a familiar pair of muscular arms were snaking their way around your waist and the stubbled face you loved more than anything was pressing against yours.

“Mmm, and what if I’m in a hurry and too impatient to wait for you up there, huh?” Rhett’s husky voice whispered low in your ear, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine as his lips ghosted over your cheek.

“Rhett!” you gasped in surprised pleasure, dropping the shampoo bottle you’d been holding without a backward glance as you turned around and faced your boyfriend head on. He looked exceptionally rugged and handsome in his Stetson and Wranglers, the sleeves of the plaid shirt he was wearing rolled up to the elbows, revealing his sunkissed forearms, the ones that made you feel so safe whenever they were wrapped around you.

“Heya, honeybee,” he grinned in that way that had you mentally pinching yourself to remind you that he was real and not just a figment of your wildest dreams. Pushing his hat back with one calloused finger, he lowered his head to plant a slow, lingering kiss on your lips.

“What are you doing here?” you breathed out once he finally pulled back, your eyes half-lidded and your brain feeling a little fuzzy.

“Now what kind of greeting is that when I drove all the way out here to see you?” Rhett teased, reaching out and resting his hand on the shelf behind your head so that he was leaning over you slightly.

You smirked in return, not minding at all the close proximity of his hard, muscled body. “Do Royal and Perry know you’re sneaking off like this?” you asked with a chuckle, one of your fingers trailing lazily along the buttons on his shirt.

“My mom had to take Amy to a doctor’s appointment, so I told them I’d drive into town and pick up some lunch,” he explained, running a hand down your bare arm. You’d worn one of your favorite sundresses today—one that just so happened to be Rhett’s favorite, too—which left your arms and a good portion of your chest exposed to your boyfriend’s hungry gaze. Food clearly wasn’t the only thing on his mind. “I think they figure I’ll be a little while,” he added with a suggestive wink, which made your cheeks grow warm instinctively.

“Hmm, and I was just thinking to myself how lonely things were getting around here. You’ve got some timing, Abbott,” you grinned, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him down to you, kissing him deeply.

Rhett responded in kind, a low groan escaping his mouth as his arms wrapped around you and he pressed you tightly to his chest. As the kiss grew more intense, his tongue snaking out to brush against your bottom lip and beg entrance into your mouth, the two of you stumbled backwards, your back slamming up against the shelves you’d just been painstakingly restocking and upending an entire row of men’s deodorant, sending them crashing to the floor.

With low moans of both yearning and frustration, the two of you broke apart and glanced down at the mess you’d made.

“I’ll clean it up later,” you panted with an indifferent shrug of your shoulders, your lips seeking his once more.

“Damnit, honeybee,” Rhett moaned as you bit down gently on his bottom lip, his hands reaching up to play with the straps of your sundress. “You just had to wear this of all things?” he murmured, his voice thick and husky with want.

“Thought you’d like it for dinner tonight,” you whispered, smiling against his mouth.

He threw his head back slightly, which granted you access to his exposed throat. “Like it right now,” he ground out, his fingers running through your hair as you nipped and sucked on his neck. “Fuck, baby, I need you. Right now,” he practically growled, holding you closer so that you could feel just how intense his need was.

“Not here,” you told him, glancing over his shoulder. “Someone might walk in.” You could feel his heart thrumming in his chest, could hear the unsteady rhythm of his breathing. Your own heart was beating wildly, your body aching with just as much need as his. “Come help me with something in the back,” you told him with a mischievous grin, taking his hand and leading him into the back supply room, making sure to close the door firmly behind you.

It wasn’t a huge room, but it felt even smaller with Rhett standing in it, his large, powerfully built frame the only thing your eyes could focus on.

His gaze was fixed on you as well, his blue eyes blazing as he looked at you. He only broke eye contact for a moment to glance around the room, a smile curving his lips as his eyes darted back to your face.

“Never imagined we’d be fooling around in here, honeybee,” he murmured, his pulse racing at the very notion of taking you in the back of your parents’ store, a store which anyone from town could walk into at any moment.

“Do you not want to?” you asked, chewing on your bottom lip and twisting your hand in the folds of your dress.

“Oh, make no mistake, baby,” Rhett rasped, stepping closer to you. “I want to.” His eyes were serious as he suddenly wrapped his hands around your hips and lifted you up onto the wooden worktable that sat behind you, spreading your legs so that he could step between them. “I want to,” he said again, burying his fingers in your hair as he kissed you like a starving man.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” you breathed out, rubbing your body against his and kicking your sandals off so that they fell to the floor. “Someone could—I mean anyone might—”

“Honeybee, trust me,” he cut you off, resting his forehead against yours. “The way you got me goin’, I don’t need much time.”

You mewled softly in response, turned on by his words as he lowered his head to kiss you once more. You were desperate to run your fingers through his hair, but his hat was in the way. Moaning softly against his lips, you reached up and tugged it off his head. For a moment, you considered dropping it next to you on the table, but then a better idea struck you. Smirking slightly, you dropped his hat right on top of your head, feeling the way his body went taut beneath your palms.

“Honeybee,” he grunted, his work-roughened fingers digging into your waist through the fabric of your dress. “You’re really determined to make me lose my damn mind, aren’t you?”

“Come on, cowboy,” you whispered teasingly, your tongue flicking out against his lower lip. “Clock’s ticking.”

Your words seemed to flip some kind of switch in his mind because suddenly he was pulling you to the edge of the table, his hands less than gentle as he shoved your dress up, bunching it around your waist. Slipping his hand between your legs, he pushed your panties to the side and swiped two fingers up your slit without preamble.

“Fuck,” he panted under his breath, his head falling forward to lean against your shoulder. “Already soaking wet for me, honeybee,” he moaned, pressing a kiss to your bare skin just to the right of your dress strap.

You just gasped out his name in response, your arms tightening around him, which spurred him to slip both those fingers inside you, curling them against your spongy walls in a way that had you struggling to catch your next breath.

“Rhett,” you whimpered, burying your face in the crook of his neck as his fingers pumped in and out of you at a relentless pace. He smelled like sweat and sun and the Wyoming earth. He smelled like Rhett. And there was nothing that aroused you more.

“Sh, sh, I got you, baby. I’m gonna take care of my girl,” he murmured softly, peppering your temple and the side of your face with kisses.

“Need you,” you gasped, fisting your hand in the front of his plaid work shirt. “Need you inside me. Now,” you begged, your pulse racing in your veins as the temperature in the back room steadily climbed.

Rhett didn’t put up any argument, his fingers sliding out of you as he reached for the waistband of your panties and tugged them down your legs, leaving the soft scrap of fabric dangling around your ankles, all while you reached for the belt at his waist, unbuckling it with lithe fingers before making quick work of the button and zipper of his jeans.

“Damn, honeybee, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you move so quickly. Like lightning,” Rhett chuckled hoarsely, pressing a sloppy kiss to your mouth.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” you laughed breathlessly, helping him tug down his jeans and his boxers just enough so that he could free himself from their constraints. He was thick and hard and ready, but he pumped himself a few times for good measure before lining himself up against your entrance.

“You alright, baby?” he asked, stroking your cheek with his free hand. He knew you were usually used to more foreplay than this, and he didn’t want to hurt you.

“Mhm,” you nodded, cupping his face in your hands to reassure him. “Please, baby,” you mouthed against his lips.

Within seconds, he was buried deep inside you, your fingers tangled in his hair and your legs locked around his waist as he began rocking his hips back and forth in an increasingly frenzied rhythm.

It was messy and sloppy and chaotic, and you loved every minute of it. You cherished the moments of slow lovemaking that you and Rhett shared, when he worshiped every inch of your body and took his time giving you more pleasure than you ever could have thought possible. But you also loved these wild and crazy moments, when the two of you were so overcome by your animalistic need for each other that your bodies came crashing together in a way that was so uncontrolled and frantic and perfect because it was yours.

“Rhett,” you moaned, your voice high-pitched with pleasure. “Rhett, Rhett, Rhett,” you cried, tugging on his hair and panting against his ear, your words tumbling out in concert with the sound and rhythm of his thrusts.

“Right here, honeybee,” he gasped out, lacing his fingers through yours as he reached for one of your hands. “I’m right—oh, yeah. Oh, shit, baby. Shit, shit, shit,” he grunted as his movements became more frenetic and out of sync.

You knew he was close. So were you.

“Rhett! Baby, I’m—”

“Sweetheart?”

Everything came to a crashing halt as the sound of your mother’s voice suddenly pierced your consciousness. Your back stiffened immediately and your eyes went wide with horror.

“Rhett!” you whispered frantically, your boyfriend still rutting inside you.

You could tell from the way his head had shot up in alarm that he could hear your mother, too, but he was too far gone now. You both were, and neither of you knew how to stop.

You heard your mother call out your name, louder this time. “Are you here, honey?”

Terrified of what your voice would sound like when you called out to her, you first made sure to clamp a hand over Rhett’s mouth, trying to keep him as silent as possible.

“Y-yes, Mama!” you called out, breathing through your nose to keep from screaming out in pleasure as Rhett continued to pound away, hitting your most sensitive spot. “I’m in the back!”

Rhett’s forehead screwed up in concentration and you felt him take your fingers into his mouth, which sent your eyes rolling into the back of your head in ecstasy.

“Are you okay? Do you need help?” your mother asked. It still sounded like she was near the front of the store.

“No!” you practically shouted, eyes widening once more. “I mean, um, I’m okay! I’ll be out in a m-minute,” you announced, your legs starting to tremble violently.

Burying your face in Rhett’s shoulder, your hand still clamped firmly over his mouth, you rocked your hips against his at an almost violent pace, desperate to drive the both of you over the edge.

You could feel him tense up, caught his gaze as he looked at you, his blue eyes almost hazy from the high of his pleasure. Wordlessly, the two of you stared at one another as, seconds apart, you came undone, your mouth open in a silent scream as your climax tore through you. You could feel the warmth flooding you as Rhett reached his finish as well, his chest heaving as you continued to hold your hand against his lips.

Your mother called your name again as Rhett’s lips met yours in a searing kiss, one that robbed you of any breath you might have had left.

“Just a minute, Mama!” you called, hoping you didn’t sound as lightheaded as you felt.

“God, I love you,” Rhett whispered, holding you close to his chest as he stroked your back slowly.

“I love you, too,” you whispered in return, leaning against him for support.

Knowing you were short on time, he pulled back reluctantly to reach for your panties, sliding them back up your legs and securing them in place. He pressed the fabric against your entrance, knowing it was liable to get messy when you stood up. He dropped a kiss on your forehead before stepping back to adjust his pants, buckling his belt as quietly as possible.

“Grab that box off the shelf,” you instructed him, sliding off the table and adjusting your dress. “There’s no way Mama isn’t going to see you, so we’ll just tell her you were helping me get some things from back here.”

Rhett shot you a mildly skeptical look, but did as you told him, pulling a large box off a high shelf.

Just as you were about to open the door, however, he suddenly hissed. “Honeybee! My hat!”

Gasping, you quickly pulled off his Stetson and dropped it back on his head, grateful that he was paying more attention than you were.

When you and Rhett finally stepped back into the store, your mama looked over and raised a surprised brow.

“Hi, Mama,” you chirped with an overly bright smile. “Rhett just stopped by on his lunch break and offered to help me get some boxes from the back,” you offered before she could even ask.

“Ma’am,” Rhett nodded respectfully, his cheeks turning bright red.

Your mama glanced from you to your boyfriend, then to the back of the store, and back again. You felt your heart plummet inside your chest. Your mother wasn’t a stupid woman. And you weren’t a very good liar.

“Thank you, Rhett,” was all she said, glancing down at the cash register. “Always such a good boy.”

“Of course, ma’am. Um, thank you,” Rhett stammered sheepishly, unable to meet your mother’s eye.

“Um, well, shouldn’t you get going, baby? I’m sure your daddy and brother are getting hungry, waiting on you to bring home lunch,” you said, shooting him a pointed look.

“Oh, yeah,” Rhett nodded, blue eyes widening slightly. “You’re right about that. I best be off. I’ll see you tonight, honeybee,” he told you, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. Turning towards your mother, he tipped his hat in deference before hurrying out the front door.

As soon as the door slammed shut behind him, your mother turned to look at you, eyebrows arched.

You swallowed nervously, wanting nothing more than for the earth to devour you whole.

“Just be glad, little missy, that it was me and not your daddy who came back early,” your mama said, shooting you a knowing look before pulling out the ledger from underneath the counter. “Now can you go pick up that deodorant that’s all over the floor?”

“Yes, Mama,” you nodded, your mortification complete as you slowly walked towards the back of the store.

As you walked, you felt your phone buzzing in your dress pocket. Pulling it out, you saw it was a text from Rhett.

Sorry, honeybee 😬😘

Smiling despite yourself, you tapped out a quick message in response.

You’ll just have to make it up to me tonight 😉

[kpop-s-akura]

Gym Buddy || y.jw

🌸Pairing: Yang Jungwon x fem!Reader

🌸Description: When school forces you to run the mile every Monday — and lessens your will to live — Jungwon is there to keep you going.

🌸Genre(s)/Content: SFW; fluff; some humor; non-idol!AU; high school!AU; established relationship; curse words; appearances by the rest of ENHA; Jungwon is best boyfriend😘; Reader hates exercise and is kinda bratty lol; kissing; jokes about violence (no actual violence); pet names (babe, dearest, darling, baby, love); written for mobile; let me know if there's anything else!

🌸Word Count: 2.6k

🌸A/N: I'm finally back after so long! If you read my first chapter of my True Beauty fic, I'm so sorry but there's the slimmest chance I'll be continuing that (at least for now). I also apologize to those who I promised to enter collaborations for. There's honestly so much I have to say and apologize for, but for now, I hope you can forgive me and enjoy this piece. I hope to be back very soon with another one!

Happy reading!💙🩵

❀❀❀

“This is bullshit.” You deadpanned, half-assedly hugging your right arm to your chest with your left.

Jungwon could only chuckle at how obvious it was that you didn’t want to be here, at how visceral your hatred was.

Cute, he thought.

You whipped your head to your boyfriend’s sound of amusement while he was stretching his arms, happiness written all over his face from your “pain”.

“I’m serious, Wonie!” You whined from your place on the ground, now in a side lunge. He only snickered again, a bit louder this time.

“I know you’re serious, babe; you’ve been complaining about it ever since the beginning of the semester.” Jungwon continued his stretching routine, prepared for the whole tirade that you were most likely going to lay on him — not that he ever minded.

“Like, what’s the point of the mile run? To punish us?”

“It’s to keep you active and fit, dearest.” Jungwon spoke in a saccharine voice, giving the same answer to the same question that you ask nearly every other Monday. But it did little to soothe your anger over school mandated exercise.

“Like hell that’s the reason! I think it’s a plot…” You mumbled the last part. You both came out of your stretches and turned to look at each other. Jungwon had a soft smile of adoration, while you wore a petulant pout that the former cooed at.

“You’re just so adorable!” Jungwon leaned in closer, gently petting your hair. You could feel your face blush at his words and actions.

“Stop flirting with me, Won.”  You mumbled under your breath so it was only between you and Jungwon. 

“I’m not flirting. I’m merely speaking the truth.” You had half the mind to kiss — slap — the smirk off his smug face that had dimples pinched into each squishy cheek, only serving to make you more infuriated.

Jungwon didn’t pay attention to your body that shook in anger since he knew you weren’t actually angry — just very flustered. 

And he loved to fluster you.

“What’s going on, lovebirds?” You and Jungwon turned to the voice that approached you; your hand that was mid-air and about to slap Jungwon’s hand away from your head — which was still heavily petting you — slowly descending back to your side. 

Jungwon walked over and brought him in for a bro hug.

“Trouble in paradise?” Riki questioned as Jungwon put his arm around the younger’s (and shorter’s) shoulders.

Though a joke, it was a fair question given the scene he had walked in on: Jungwon up close and personal with his hand on your head, a sly smile on his face; and you nearly shaking like a leaf with a beet-red face.

Riki knew it wasn’t a lover’s quarrel. He knew you two and that scene better than that.

“No.”

“Yes.”

Riki looked between the two of you and your different answers for a second before snorting with a burst of laughter.

“Riiiiiiight.” He said in the most unconvinced way, drawing out the vowel.

“Hey, guys!”

You looked over and waved at the three new people who had traveled over to your trio — Jake, Heeseung, and Sunghoon– who then waved back.

“Ready for the mile, everyone?” Heeseung smiled. Before anyone had the chance to reply, you answered with a loud and prolonged groan of irritation that probably would’ve echoed had you all not been outside.

Heeseung let out a puff of laughter. “I forgot, Y/n — you’re not exactly one for exercise, are you?” He smirked.

“Nooooooo...” You plopped your forehead against Jungwon’s left shoulder with a childish whine, having made it closer to his side during your friends’ appearances.

Jungwon made noises of fondness at your cuteness and laid his head on top of yours. He brought up his arm that was attached to the shoulder you were laying on in order to pat and pet the side of your head.

You didn’t bother making a fuss about it this time, instead nuzzling further into him and moving your head inwards to his neck, standing slightly in front of him.

The moment of closeness between you two, and the sounds of adoration and awe from the boys, was then interrupted by a very loud and obnoxious fake throwing up sound.

“Ew, why are you two so lovey-dovey?” Sunoo rhetorically asked, throwing a disgusted side-eye as he approached the rest of you. Jay snickered, trailing slightly behind, and gave him a nudge.

“Why are you still single?” While Riki was never very good at holding in his laughter, and did not even bother trying this time around, the rest of the boys tried their best to stifle their joyous sounds as Sunoo shot you a glare that held nothing but contempt.

“I will kill you, Y/n.” He spoke lowly, but you just rolled your eyes playfully while dismissing his empty threat; replying—

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Jungwon let out a small chuckle and pat the top of your head before wrapping it back around your waist. 

A loud ring of a whistle alerted all eight of you as your heads shot to its source.

“Well,” Sunghoon started, “time for the torture to commence.”

Your classmates were then brought over to the starting line of the track and field, where the teacher placed you all in a sort of clump.

Jungwon took his wireless earbuds out of his pants pocket, placing the right in his ear while offering the left one to you.

He put the case back into its previous spot, muscle memory from your guys’ makeshift routine driving his actions.

You took it and placed it snuggly in your ear, anticipating the start of the “Mile Monday😩” playlist you and Jungwon had made with some honorable mentions from the other boys.

Since you two were bonafide lovers of music, it being one of the few things to calm you and your temper (besides the cat boy himself), you two made a couple’s playlist alongside your several others for every other type of the occasion. 

This particular one had upbeat, uplifting, and just general feel good vibes.

Perfect.

Jungwon turned to look at you once again with that soft smile, as if he was trying to soothe your lingering negative feelings about what you were all about to do. Ever the empath.

“Are you ready?” You couldn’t help but smile back.

Jungwon was always so good at putting you in a good mood or distracting you from the bad things, not that this was necessarily bad as you had thought (though you would never admit that).

You let out a dramatic sigh, making Jungwon laugh.

“I suppose. Promise you won’t run ahead of me?” You smirked, lifting your pinky up.

Jungwon reflected your expression back, still laughing, at your gimmick. He locked his finger with yours.

“As always, darling.” Your lips turned up as your heart filled with warmth at the pet name and his ever-present, patient smile. 

“Alright, girls and boys!”

You broke the physical contact to turn to Mr. Park, who stood in front of your classmate’s clump.

“You all know the drill: Complete the four laps around the track in twenty minutes or less. You can walk or run, but remember to not push yourselves and keep your own pace.” Everyone nodded along with the professor’s words.

“Alright! Timer starts…” Mr. Park stepped over to the side, timer in hand.

“NOW!”

At his go ahead, some students sprinted, some jogged, and some started off with just walking. 

Heeseung and Jay were the first to zoom off at the front of the pack, speeding forward like their life depended on it.

Jake and Sunghoon jogged in the beginning, but soon got competitive with each other and decided to race.

Riki and Sunoo decided to preserve their energy for the time being and just stayed near the back to chat.

Jungwon and you started with a light jog; wanting to get this over with, but not going so far as to end the mile with throwing up.

You were doing quite well and were able to make it through the entirety of one full lap before slowing down to walk half a lap, and then speeding back up; Jungwon followed suit with whatever you did.

“I’d say we’re not doing too bad, no?” You questioned, slightly winded, but not yet holding onto any debilitating stitch in your side.

You two were now back to walking with two full rounds down.

“Not too bad, sure. But I think we can do even better…” You whipped your head over to Jungwon for the second time this evening, this time with an incredulous look at his mischievous expression.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked tentatively and slightly scared, but Jungwon’s smirk just widened.

“I say we jog nonstop to the end.” You stopped in your tracks at this.

“No way in hell am I doing that, Yang Jungwon.” Jungwon seemed to have expected your refusal.

“No need to pull out the government name, darling. I’m merely suggesting that we get the mile done faster. The sprinters and most of the joggers are already finished.”

You followed where Jungwon gestured to, a patch of grass at the center of the track where a little more than a handful of people were gathered.

Lying down, chilling in groups; chatting and just relaxing. 

You could see Heeseung and Jay lying flat down on their backs with their empty water bottles, probably from chugging them right after they finished. 

Sunghoon and Jake were about a foot away from them, the former laughing obnoxiously in the latter’s face as he got onto his stomach and started to do push-ups; a punishment for losing whatever competition was going on between them, you were sure.

You winced in empathy as you witnessed the pure pain Jake had on his face as he went through with the penalty. 

As for Riki and Sunoo, it looked like they had just finished their turn with the mile. They walked over to the four older boys and plopped down next to them. Riki got on his phone while Sunoo passed him a water, keeping one for himself.

“Isn’t that what you want?” Jungwon could feel the victory on the tip of his tongue, knowing you’d take his bait. He saw you subconsciously bite your lip in envy at seeing all of your friends the way they were. 

You turned back to face your sly boyfriend.

“Of course it is! You know that this is the last thing I want to be doing right now.” Jungwon nodded before continuing to walk.

“Then what’s stopping you, hm?” 

You started to become genuinely concerned that you were going to sock your boyfriend in his perfectly beautiful face at the rate of his teasing and taunting. 

(Whether that was with your lips or your fist — TBD.)

But you knew that he was trying to motivate you. He was just doing it in a very frustrating way.

“It wasn’t really on my agenda to end up on the floor, dead, at the end of this class.” You sarcastically replied with a glare.

“Oh, come on, baby. You and I both know it takes more than jogging two laps to take you down.”

Well, when he said it that way.

“How about this?” Jungwon leaned in closer to your face with his hands clasped behind his back.

“If you’re able to jog the whole time for the last two laps, I’ll treat you to ice cream and anything you want at the snack bar.” This caught your attention as your widened eyes shot up to meet his, intrigue coloring your irises in a way that made Jungwon giggle in adoration.

“I’ll throw in infinite kisses.” 

Jungwon then pecked your left cheek. 

“As a tester.” 

You breathed heavily, almost sounding like a wistful sigh.

To hell with it.

“Then let’s go.” Once you had started to walk with him, Jungwon started to gradually pick up the pace, forcing you to do so as well. 

You kept his deal in mind and pushed yourself beyond what you were originally able to, subconsciously mouthing along to BAEKHYUN’s “Betcha”.

You internally chortled.

How fitting.

As you and Jungwon neared the end of your last lap, the boys had risen from their areas of rest and came to stand near the finishing line.

They started cheering once you rounded the last corner of the track.

“Come on, guys, you can do it! Just a little more!”

“Yang Jungwon! Yang Jungwon!”

“Y/l/n Y/n! Y/l/n Y/n!”

“*Weird, loud, siren noises that don’t sound like they should be able to come from a human but they are.*”

“Let’s go, lovebirds!”

“LET’S GAUR!”

If you weren’t so focused on your legs not failing you, you’d have started to tear up at the display.

Just then, you heard Jungwon — nearly out of breath but still going — speak in a quieter voice compared to your guys’ personal cheerleaders.

“Come on, baby. Let’s finish this.”

A grin spread across your lips at your boyfriend’s encouragement; pumping your legs even faster, surpassing Jungwon by a couple of feet in a sprint and crossing the finish line.

The six boys crowded around as you collapsed to the ground on your hands and knees, now spilling words of praise.

Jungwon crossed promptly after you and joined with a smile on his face that showed the epitome of proudness. He bent down to lock eyes with you and placed his hand on your left shoulder.

“You alright, darling?” You nodded with an exhausted, but equally proud smile.

Jungwon beamed back before helping you back onto your feet.

“Well I’ll say, Jungwon and Y/n,” Mr. Park walked over to your group, clipboard in hand, “that’s your best time yet!”

The rest of the boys continued to yell their congratulations as Mr. Park went back over to his previous spot in order to log the other student’s times. 

You gasped in happiness at the news. Once you turned back to Jungwon, he picked you up in a hug and spun you around.

When you were brought back down, you were met with Jungwon’s soft lips on your own — tasting the strawberry chapstick you gifted him for your previous anniversary. You wrapped your arms around his neck, slightly coming onto your tippy-toes while his hands held onto your waist for stability. You both smiled into the kiss before you pulled away.

“Now get me ice cream.” Jungwon laughed cutely and caressed your head.

“Whatever you want, love…” He pressed his forehead to yours. As you two were about to kiss again, there was a chorus of excitement.

“Ice cream? I heard ‘ice cream.’” Jungwon groaned quietly and you began to laugh. Jake had overheard and was now hyping the rest of the boys up with the idea of getting ice cream.

“Snacks too, Jakey.” You added in. You giggled at how his eyes lit up and how energetic the guys got.

Jungwon faintly knocked his forehead against yours with a pout, he knew there was no stopping his friends from tagging along his date (and from shaking him down for ice cream and snacks).

You press a firm kiss to his left cheek, briefly relishing in how soft and pillowy the skin is. The little frown was instantaneously replaced with a shy grin. You didn’t allow yourself to become bashful, pushing yourself up to lay your lips on his in a sugary embrace.

The two of you stood in your own little world, barely aware of the six boys debating whether or not they should also take a trip to the convenience store at the corner.

[oh-stars]

All is Well

Lost

a Stobin Month 2024 prompt | 1,199 words | CW: lonliness | Rating: T

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College sucks. 

There. She said it. It sucks. 

Growing up, Robin felt like college was her promise land. She could go to any school, learn anything, and have the freedom to be the person she wanted to be. She’d always struggled with the social aspect of school, finding a few good friends here and there to get her through classes but nothing that lasted. No one wanted to hang out on the weekends or sleepover – it was only ever for her birthday or super rare occasions. And when she was extra lonely or the girls at school were a little mean, her mother would always remind her that she’d find her people in college. 

Well, she’s here now and everyone sucks. 

That’s not exactly fair, she knows. Her roommates are decent. They clean up after themselves and every now and then, they’ll all grab breakfast together before class. It’s just clear that Robin’s the odd one out. She’s the one who isn’t clicking with the rest of them for no other reason than they just don’t work. And there are a few people from her German class last semester that she really liked, who still say hello and reach out if they have similar classes to study together. 

It’s just… tough to come back to, is all. 

The first semester felt impossible. She was all alone, with new people and no one that understood her on any level. She’d met a few lesbians, gone on a few dates, and it’s been incredible to connect with people in an aspect of her life that’s been so closed off for forever. Steve and Eddie may be together, they may understand, but they’re not lesbians. And even if she’s finally finding a community that understands her sexuality, she’s still stuck up here without anyone who understands her. 

Fine! There’s no Steve here. Happy? 

Sometimes, when she’s struggling to breathe after a nightmare, she wonders if the Russians somehow swapped out one of her lungs for his because she can never breathe without him around. It would make sense that she would need to be around her old lung, around him, to breathe the right way again. She misses him with every fiber in her being. 

The first semester was hard enough, but coming back after a month of uninterrupted Steve time? Where they spent the entire winter vacation attached at the hip? 

It kind of makes her want to curl up and die, if she’s honest. Just to stop the pain. 

Okay, she’s being dramatic. All that time with Steve meant she had to see Eddie and she’s pretty sure she absorbed some of his dramatics over the past few weeks. 

Robin checks the watch Eddie got for her, one that matches the new one he bought Steve, and sees she’s nearly late for her pre-calculus class. Shit. She doubles down on her speed walking and books it to Chapman Hall. 

The lecture hall is packed with students. It’s the first day back, so she’s not exactly surprised, but she really didn’t expect an early morning Tuesday class to be completely filled. There’s nowhere to sit other than by the windows and Robin can’t sit by the windows, she gets too distracted by the birds and squirrels (people she can zone out, but animals? They demand her attention, thank you). 

She kind of wants to cry. It’s just all too much all of a sudden and she doesn’t feel like the strong, capable woman she tries to be. She’s fought Russians and monsters and government agents, yet finding a seat in class is going to be her downfall. 

Maybe she should just run out of here, find the nearest bus station, and head back to Hawkins. She doesn’t need a fancy piece of paper to succeed in life. She just needs Steve. 

“Are you okay?” a girl asks, hugging her books close to her chest. 

Robin’s standing in the middle of the entry, blocking other students from slipping in behind her. She nods to the girl and slides to the left, away from the door, before she peers back up–

“Robin!” 

She’s hearing things. She has to be. 

A whistle sounds off, the one that could get her attention anywhere at any time. The one that has her heart racing and tears building in her eyes because that’s the sound of her soulmate calling out to her, bringing her back to safety. 

That’s Steve’s whistle. 

With the rest of the class, Robin follows the noise to see Steve waving at her, a few rows up and on the edge of the aisle, safely away from any windows. 

She runs up the stairs and into his arms before she can take another breath without him. “I missed you,” she says into his shoulder as she hugs him tight, her bookbag dropped in the process. 

Steve squeezes her back just as tight. “Missed you too,” he says. “I don’t know how to do shit without you, Rob,” he admits softly. 

Robin only pulls away when someone shuffles by them. She swipes at her eyes and only then does she realize where they are, that she’s getting ready to learn pre-cal and Steve’s just… here? And with books? 

He sits down, motioning for her to sit with him.

She does, her brow furrowed as she settles in. 

Steve’s smile turns both mischievous and shy in a way she rarely sees. She knows he’s trying to hide behind the surprise, that whatever the reason is, this is big for him. “I’m, uh, auditing the class,” he says as a blush rises up his neck. 

“Really?” Robin asks, scooting closer. She takes in the notebook and supplies he has set up in front of him, calculator ready to go. Ah! He’s really doing this! Robin has to bite her cheek as she gets her own things set up and ready, especially with the professor walks in to set up. 

“Just this one,” he continues. “But I am an official student as of today.” 

“What about–” 

“We got a place off campus,” Steve says, the smirk back in full swing. “Eddie’s been moving us in for the last month–” 

Robin swats at his arm with the back of her hand. “Is that where your bookshelf went?” 

Steve’s grin gets bigger. “It’s a two bedroom.” He lowers his head. “If you ever wanted to ditch the mean girls.” 

“They’re not mean–” 

“Dude, they purposefully ignored you. They’re mean girls.” 

Robin rolls her eyes as she picks up her pencil. “My last class is at–”

“Four, I know. I memorized your schedule,” Steve says. “I tried to get ours to align as much as possible.” 

“That’s creepy,” Robin says even though her smile is too big to hide. 

“What can I say?” Steve shrugs. “I’d be lost without you.” 

She gags. “Ew. Did you steal that from Eddie? It’s got his particular stench of cheesy, emotional one-liners all over it.” 

Steve’s laugh is too loud, especially when she joins in. But as they calm down, taking deep breaths and avoiding eye contact to stop their giggles, Robin feels her chest expand and take in all the air she can.

--

Thank you @lady-lostmind for beta reading!

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