#look i know this is again me overthinking it bc it actually happened to him and isn'tjust a silly little cinematic parallel

[nikolaj-costerwaldau]

"I feel that I have blood on my hands."

Oppenheimer (2023) dir. Christopher Nolan

[exopelagic]

i said i wouldn’t do it this time but it’s 3am and mods asleep. boy

[fear-less]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 this is awkward..

pairing: james potter x f!reader

➥ In which, you were fed up with James, deciding to put aside your pettiness you drag him away from the gryffindor party to talk to him.

Warnings: angst, fluff, james pov, this inspired by awae (aka the best show ever), r and james speaking is 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓵𝔂 inspired by gilbert confessing that he wants anne so effing bad bc he 𝓯𝔀 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓿𝔂, lowkey dont hate me for making the “dreams” u want so like…. I just didn't know what to do bc like idk smh i set back women 50 years by that

a/n: tysm for all the love on this series!! y’all are NOT ready for the next chapter, writing it rn and 😭🙏 BUTTT tysm for 300🫶🫶 also I finished the last chapter... do y'all want me to post it today or edge y'all and post it tomorrow

series masterlist ! - divider creds: i-mmaculatus & dollywons

It was now nearing the end of the school year—even if there was still a month to go. James could now be in the same room as you without glaring daggers at whoever you were talking to. Though he told himself he was over you, he knew deep down that the feelings never faded.

He told himself it didn’t matter. He told himself he was fine. And yet, every time he caught sight of you, every time your laughter reached his ears from across the room, it was as if someone had set fire to his resolve.

He wanted to talk to you so badly it was almost pathetic. But it was like the universe itself was conspiring against him—or, more specifically, like Finn Laurier had developed some sort of sixth sense for James’s intentions.

Because every single time James gathered enough courage, every time he braced himself to walk over to you, Finn would appear out of nowhere. Whether it was in the Great Hall, the library, or even during Quidditch practice, Finn always seemed to materialize by your side at precisely the wrong moment, stealing away your attention and leaving James feeling like the outsider in his own story.

It was infuriating.

“Mate, you’re grinding your teeth,” Sirius remarked casually one afternoon as they sat under the beech tree by the lake.

James startled, realizing with some embarrassment that Sirius was right. He quickly unclenched his jaw and let out a frustrated sigh.

“Sorry,” he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m just…”

“Just what?” Sirius prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” James lied, though his voice betrayed him.

Sirius gave him a knowing look. “If this is about her again, just—”

“It’s not about her,” James interrupted quickly, though he winced as the words left his mouth. He knew Sirius wouldn’t believe him, and he wasn’t sure he even believed himself anymore.

Sirius sighed, shaking his head. “Prongs, you’re going to drive yourself mad if you keep this up. Just talk to her already.”

“I’ve tried!” James snapped, louder than he intended. He lowered his voice and added, “I’ve tried, but every bloody time, Finn shows up. It’s like he’s got a bloody tracker on her or something.”

Remus, who had been quietly reading nearby, finally chimed in. “You know, maybe you’re overthinking this,” he said, not looking up from his book.

“How could I possibly be overthinking this?” James demanded, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“Maybe Finn’s not doing it on purpose,” Remus suggested calmly. “Maybe it’s just bad timing.”

“Bad timing?” James repeated incredulously. “Bad timing doesn’t happen this often, Moony. This is a pattern.”

Remus gave him a skeptical look but didn’t argue further.

James leaned back against the tree trunk, closing his eyes and letting out a long breath. He hated how much this was bothering him. He hated how much control this entire situation had over him.

But most of all, he hated the thought that you might actually be happy with Finn.

It wasn’t that he thought Finn was a bad guy—quite the opposite, really. Finn was charming, talented, and annoyingly good at everything he did. He was the kind of guy parents adored, the kind of guy professors went out of their way to praise. And worst of all, he was the kind of guy who could make you smile in a way James had only dreamed of.

James opened his eyes, staring up at the branches overhead. “Maybe I should just give up,” he muttered.

Sirius snorted. “Yeah, right. That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve said all day.”

“I’m serious,” James insisted.

“No, I’m Sirius,” Sirius quipped, smirking.

James groaned, throwing a small pebble in his direction. “Not the time for jokes.”

“Fine, fine,” Sirius said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But seriously, you’re not giving up. You’re James Potter, remember? Stubborn, arrogant, never-takes-no-for-an-answer James Potter. You don’t give up on things you care about.”

James hesitated, staring at the rippling water of the Black Lake. He wanted to believe Sirius. He wanted to believe that there was still a chance, that you weren’t as far out of reach as you seemed.

But as he watched you across the courtyard later that day, standing beside Finn and laughing at something he said, James couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, it was too late.

But his doubt soon melted into something far more unsettling when he noticed your gaze shift. For the first time in what felt like forever, your attention wasn’t on Finn Laurier—it was on him.

James felt like he might throw up.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears, and his hands fidgeted with the hem of his robes as he quickly looked away. In fact, he didn’t just look away; he turned his entire body in the opposite direction, hoping to mask the flush rising to his cheeks.

“C’mon, James, you’ve got a Quidditch game to win today! Channel all that anger you’ve got towards Laurier into winning us the Cup!” Sirius said, clapping a hand on James’s shoulder with his trademark grin.

James gave a faint nod, trying to let Sirius’s words sink in. He wasn’t sure if it would work, but he had to admit—focusing on Quidditch might be better than brooding.

As the match began, Sirius’s advice started to help. Flying through the air, the roar of the crowd, and the adrenaline coursing through his veins almost made him forget the mess he was tangled in. Quidditch always had a way of making the weight on his shoulders feel lighter.

Almost.

At first, he wasn’t paying much attention to the game. His mind wandered back to you, back to everything that had gone wrong. He thought about what he would say, how he could even begin to fix things. And, like always, he couldn’t resist scanning the crowd for you.

Even in the middle of a fight, even when he swore to himself that he was done, James always looked for you in the stands.

And he found you—right where he didn’t want to.

You were sitting with Finn Laurier, your hand clasped in his. James’s stomach twisted painfully at the sight, and he forced himself to look away, though the image burned into his mind.

Of course. Finn fucking Laurier.

He sighed, his grip tightening on his broomstick. There was no point in hoping anymore. Whatever chance he’d had—if he’d ever had one—was gone now. Maybe he’d already been downgraded in your life: a friend at best, a stranger at worst. The thought stung, and James shoved it down, refusing to dwell on it any longer.

And then, something golden caught the corner of his eye.

The Snitch.

For the first time all game, James’s focus snapped into place. He leaned forward on his broom, his heart pounding—not from heartbreak this time, but from the sheer rush of competition. If nothing else, he could still win this. He could still bring home the Cup.

James shot after the Snitch with everything he had, the rush of wind against his face only fueling his determination. The crowd roared, but their voices blurred into the background. His world narrowed to one thing: the golden glimmer darting just ahead.

The Hufflepuff Seeker was hot on his trail, but James barely registered them. This was his moment. The Snitch veered sharply to the right, and James followed, his reflexes razor-sharp. He could feel the weight of his emotions—anger, heartbreak, frustration—all pouring into this chase.

The Snitch dipped low, skimming just above the grass, and James dove after it, his fingers outstretched. The Hufflepuff Seeker was closing in fast, but James didn’t care. He pushed his broom harder, faster, his body leaning forward so much it felt like he might fall off.

And then, his fingers closed around the Snitch.

The Gryffindor stands erupted into cheers, deafening and jubilant. The sound echoed across the pitch as James pulled up, the Snitch held high in triumph. For the first time all week, a genuine smile broke across his face.

He’d done it.

Back on the ground, his teammates swarmed him, yelling and celebrating as they lifted him off the ground in a flurry of hugs and pats on the back. Sirius was the loudest, of course, laughing as he shouted, “That’s my best mate! Did you see that dive? Bloody brilliant!”

James grinned, allowing himself to soak in the moment. But as the initial adrenaline rush faded, his thoughts drifted back to you.

Through the crowd, he spotted you walking toward the castle with Laurier. You looked happy—laughing at something Finn said, your hand still in his.

James’s chest tightened, the pain creeping back in.

Sirius slung an arm around his shoulders. “Oi, don’t let that git ruin your moment. You just won us the Cup, Prongs. Focus on that, yeah?”

James forced a nod, plastering a smile on his face. “Yeah. You’re right.”

But deep down, as the team carried him back to the common room, the ache lingered. Winning the match had been a distraction, but it wasn’t enough to erase what he felt for you—or the sting of seeing you with someone else.

Still, James promised himself one thing: he’d get through this. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually. And who knew? Maybe, someday, you’d see him the way he saw you.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

The Gryffindor common room was a chaotic blur of red and gold, filled with triumphant cheers and laughter. The moment the team returned from the pitch, the party was already in full swing. Someone had charmed a banner to flash "Gryffindor Wins the Cup!" in shimmering letters, and butterbeer bottles floated around the room, courtesy of a cheeky charm from Sirius.

James stood in the center of it all, grinning as his teammates and housemates patted him on the back and congratulated him. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to bask in the glory of the victory, letting it drown out the knot in his chest. He’d won the game, and Gryffindor had the Cup—he deserved to enjoy it.

“Prongs!” Sirius yelled over the noise, shoving a butterbeer into his hand. “You’re the man of the hour! You better milk this for all it’s worth, because Merlin knows you deserve it.”

James laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t let me hear you say that too often, Padfoot. I might start believing it.”

Sirius gave him a devilish grin. “Oh, you will. Now, c’mon, let’s make some noise!” He climbed onto a table, raising his bottle high. “To Prongs, our Quidditch hero!”

The room erupted in cheers, and James couldn’t help but laugh, taking a sip of his butterbeer as the noise washed over him. For the first time all day, he felt lighter.

As the party went on, James moved through the crowd, chatting and laughing with his housemates. But no matter how loud the celebration got, his eyes kept drifting to the door, half-hoping, half-dreading to see you walk in.

And then, you did.

James froze mid-conversation, his heart doing that familiar stutter-step it always did when he saw you. You looked radiant, wrapped in Gryffindor colors, your cheeks flushed from the cold. But his chest tightened when he noticed Laurier trailing behind you, his hand resting casually on the small of your back.

James quickly turned back to his conversation, forcing a smile and pretending not to notice. He wasn’t going to let Finn Laurier—or his own stupid feelings—ruin the night.

“Oi, Prongs,” Sirius said, appearing at his side again. “Stop moping and do something fun. We just won the bloody Cup, mate! At least pretend you’re having the time of your life.”

James forced another grin. “I am having fun, Padfoot. Loads of fun.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “You’re staring at her again, aren’t you?”

“I’m not,” James lied, taking a long sip of butterbeer.

Sirius groaned, grabbing James by the shoulders. “Look, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to stop torturing yourself, and you’re going to have a bloody fantastic time tonight. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll prank Laurier so hard he won’t know which way is up. Deal?”

James couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking his head. “Alright, deal.”

Hours later, the party was still going strong. Someone had turned the music up, and the common room had transformed into a dance floor. James found himself dragged into the middle of it by Lily Evans, who gave him a pointed look.

“Stop sulking, Potter,” she said, smirking. “You just won the Cup. Act like it.”

“I’m not sulking,” James said, though his half-hearted smile gave him away.

Lily raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. Instead, she tugged him into the rhythm of the music, and for a while, James let himself get lost in the moment.

It wasn’t until he caught sight of you again, laughing at something Laurier said, that the knot in his chest returned. He took a deep breath, plastered on another smile, and decided that, for tonight, he’d keep pretending.

He watched you from across the room as you and Laurier continued talking, laughter bubbling between you two. He could see the way you looked at him now—so different from the way you looked at him before. It was like there was a barrier, a wall that hadn’t been there when he first met you.

“Prongs,” Sirius appeared at his side again, his voice low and concerned. “Look, I know you’ve been through a lot, but this is ridiculous. You’re letting Laurier ruin your night—and you just won us the Cup, for Merlin’s sake. You’re allowed to be happy tonight. So go talk to her. If you don’t, I swear I’ll do it for you.”

James frowned at him, irritated. “I’m not talking to her, Pads. Not now.”

“Then at least get out of here and enjoy yourself,” Sirius pressed. “We’re celebrating, mate. You’ve earned it.”

James looked over at you one more time, and for a second, he almost gave in. But the knot in his chest was still there, tightly wound, and it made everything feel so much harder than it should’ve been.

But maybe... maybe he could find a way to feel better. Maybe he could lose himself in the celebration.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally muttered, glancing at his friends.

Sirius didn’t seem convinced but let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, but I’m not letting you go off and brood in some corner. The whole bloody school’s celebrating with you tonight.”

James smirked faintly, feeling a little lighter. Maybe he could pretend to be okay, at least for tonight. He could let the victory, the laughter, and his friends drown out the ache for just a little while longer.

But as the night continued, and as the music played on, James found himself once again looking toward the doorway, hoping—just hoping—that you’d look his way.

For the first time in forever, the world was finally on his side as he saw you quickly leaving Finn and walking straight to him.

“May I speak to you, please?” James nodded, Dumbfounded. 

You quickly grabbed his hand and went outside the common room and into the corridors. 

You took a deep breath, your fingers twisting nervously. “James… I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while now.”

James’s throat went dry, his pulse quickening as he struggled to find his voice. “Yeah?”

You nodded, glancing down at your hands before meeting his gaze. “I—I’m sorry.”

That wasn’t what he had expected. Of all the scenarios he’d played out in his head, an apology hadn’t been one of them.

“For what?” he asked, genuine confusion coloring his voice.

“For everything,” you said in a rush, your words tumbling out before you could stop them. “For avoiding you. I was confused—about what I did that made you ignore me. And I guess I wanted to get back at you for ignoring me, so I decided to do the same to you. And… I’m sorry for whatever happened between us that made things so weird.”

James stared at you, your vulnerability hitting him like a Bludger to the chest. His heart ached at the uncertainty in your voice.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he said quickly, shaking his head.

“Yes, I do,” you insisted, your voice firm despite the tears welling in your eyes.

“No, you don’t,” James countered, his tone soft yet resolute. “It’s not fair to put all of this on yourself. You’ve always been there for me, and I—well, I’ve been a terrible friend lately. I was practically acting like you didn’t exist.”

James faltered when he saw the blank expression on your face. Panic flickered in his chest—had he said too much?

But before he could say anything more, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him.

“Oh, James,” you murmured into his shoulder. “It’s okay. I—I was acting like you didn’t exist too, but only because you were doing it to me.”

He blinked, caught off guard, before slowly relaxing into the hug. He looked down at you, his hand instinctively reaching up to brush away a stray tear trailing down your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You shook your head, a small, watery smile breaking through. “We’re both sorry. Let’s just… not do this anymore, okay?”

James nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Deal.”

“It feels so much better having my best friend around again.” James’ smile faltered again, he never liked the word “best friend” when it came to you, he always wanted more.

“Definitely”

You two let each other talk for what felt like hours even though it was barely fifteen minutes. He enjoyed every second though, until you brought up Finn and future plans they may include him. He couldn't believe it, when had your parents met his? He remembers your dad telling him how much he was rooting you and him to be together, now he's okay with you dating some other dude? And worst of all, your father was okay with that same dude wanting to marry his daughter? James felt like throwing up.

“Then he said that my father laid it out on a silver platter.”

“Laid... what out on a platter?”

“My future! Gave him the blessing to...to propose. I don't know what to do.”

“You told me you don’t mind being married straight after Hogwarts if you truly loved the man. That being a wife and mother... is your dream. Finn is.. nice, and both of your guys’ parents are supportive. I don't understand. What's holding you back?”

“Just… one thing.”

“What am I supposed to do? Everyone else is just... moving on, and now you’re... and I’m still... We never even... And he’s there, and you’re—Merlin, you’re never going to find someone who—” James stopped, his voice cracking. “I know that much, so how... how am I supposed to... I can’t... I— We...”

Before you could speak–a drunk Sirius somehow found you two. “Woah James you're really speaking to her? Atta boy, now, let's get back to the party, cmon, we are going to do something cool, have you heard of ....” Sirius rambled on, tugging on James’ arm to drag him back to the party.

“I’ll be off, then.” You said, voice quivering as if hesitant to leave.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

All James could think about was the previous night—the talk you two had shared. Your words, your voice, the hesitation in your eyes—it all replayed in his mind like a haunting melody. What would’ve happened if Sirius hadn’t barged in, if James had told him to leave, if he’d been brave enough to stay in that moment with you?

“I think…” James began, his voice breaking as he paced the Gryffindor dormitory, “I think she might’ve been asking if I love her. And—and I think I told her to marry someone else.”

Sirius, slouched in the chair by the window, looked stricken. “Mate…” he started, his tone heavy with guilt. “If I’d known—if I knew what was happening—I wouldn’t have gone looking for you. I—I practically ruined your chances. Merlin, I’m so, so sorry.”

James stopped pacing, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t even know if she meant it. She said so much without really saying anything, and now I don’t know if I imagined it all.”

“‘Sure, take option two,’ when option one is all she wants for her future?” James muttered, his voice thick with frustration.

“What is option one?” Peter asked, his curiosity breaking the tension.

James scoffed, bitterness creeping into his tone. “It’s Finn, obviously.” He paused, his anger flaring. “But both their parents support it, and she told me that! Before she spilled all of that on me, we were talking and laughing like nothing was wrong. But now…” He exhaled sharply, his voice softening as he sat down on the edge of his bed. “Now it feels like I’m being asked to explain the rest of my life on a bloody ticking clock. And if I make the wrong decision, I’ve either ruined my life—or hers.”

The room fell silent. Sirius and Peter exchanged uneasy glances, while Remus seemed lost in thought, unsure of how to respond.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Meanwhile, you had confided in your mother about your plans the night before: to finally tell the man you truly loved how you felt. You hadn’t wanted to bring it up while you and James were laughing and enjoying each other’s company, but you knew if you didn’t seize the moment, you’d never say it at all.

What you hadn’t expected was for him to turn you down. To tell you—calmly, almost dismissively—that you should marry Finn.

Your mother was waiting for your response. You knew she expected good news, a letter confirming that you and James were finally together. Instead, you sat at your desk, penning words that left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Dear Mother,

I did what you told me to do, but I fear I shouldn’t have. We were talking just fine, and then I told him everything. I told him how I felt. And he told me to marry Finn.

Finn is lovely, yes—but he’s not James. I asked James if there was any chance for us, and he said no. At least now I have clarity on where I stand with him. And I know it sounds awful to compare Finn to James, but... maybe knowing what I know now, I can learn to be happy with Finn. Father and Finn’s family are all thrilled, after all. I don’t even want to think about what I would’ve done if James had said he felt the same.

You sighed, folding the parchment carefully and sealing it in an envelope. The weight of your words sat heavily on your chest, but you couldn’t dwell on them any longer. You needed to send this letter immediately.

Pulling on your cloak, you found yourself heading for one of the secret passages to Hogsmeade—the ones you and James had used so often. The memories stung, but you pushed them aside. This time, you’d be using the passage alone.

The quickest way to deliver your letter was through the owlery. You knew exactly which owl was the fastest.

As you walked, you let your mind wander to James one last time, allowing yourself the quiet ache of what could’ve been. You would never speak to him again, not like before. That part of your life was over.

Finn was your future now. And while it hurt to admit, deep down, you knew it was for the best.

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[bbyobbyo]

You don’t usually wake up at the same time as Jihoon, but he definitely makes sure that you wake up with him everyday.

content: fluff, established relationship, idol!Jihoon x non-idol!reader, domesticity, spotify as a plot point lol

wc: 1.6k

note: inspired by this reddit post which i thought was 100% something jihoon would do especially now that i know he uses spotify lol. i feel like im the only one who finds it hardest to write for their bias, i get really in my head about whether or not im portraying him in the way I want to. i’ve never written idol!au either (bc i think it’s easy to overdo) which only adds to me overthinking ahhhh but hope that you guys enjoy this one !! as always feedback or comments are appreciated 🥰 I read all of them and they make me so happy hehe

[read pt.2 here!]

Jihoon swears there's something magical about waking up to a calm and quiet morning. The sun is barely just rising, blanketing the world in a soft twilight that cuts the dark blues of the waning night. And in his bed, he finds something equally as magical: your soundly sleeping figure next to him. The world is silent except for your steady breaths, and he has to take extra caution to not fall asleep again if just to enjoy the brief moments of tranquility like this during his otherwise busy life. Eventually he gets up to start his schedule for the day, taking one last look at your peaceful slumber in fondness before he closes the door behind him.

Make no mistake, Jihoon loves his job. Having 13 members in his group is fantastic, except when you realize that 13 people requiring styling and wardrobe before every public appearance takes a lot of time. His mornings may start early, but in reality most of his time is spent listening to music in salon chairs and dozing off in waiting rooms.

In fact, it was in the middle of getting his makeup done when he discovered that around 8:20 am every day, his Spotify (which he uses to listen to his daily Bruno Mars Mix playlist) stops playing on his phone and switches to… the speaker at home? He bought a new speaker a few days ago because the last one you had was on its last legs from years of use, but if it’s malfunctioning already then he might have to look into getting a new speaker sooner than he thought.

Upon closer observation, Jihoon also notices that the song has changed — it’s playing one of his songs, your favorite one actually. Immediately he realizes what happened. He contemplates shooting you a text to tell you to disconnect him and just sync your own Spotify account to the speaker, you’re home more often than him anyway. That thought quickly disappears, however, as he imagines you getting ready for work listening to the sound of his voice and genuinely enjoying the music that he pours his heart and soul into, he can’t bring himself to disturb you even for a moment. His eyes soften as he stares blankly at the Spotify home screen, headphones now deafeningly silent. Surely, Jihoon decides, he can live without his Bruno Mars Mix for just a while longer.

-

You sometimes wonder if your boyfriend is magic. Although a good morning text has been standard in your relationship since the beginning, it's starting to concern you how perfectly timed it is.

Normally, your morning routine is simple. Wake up. Get out of bed. Bump some tunes. Check your notifications. Brush teeth. Wash face. Get dressed. Pack bag. Leave the house.

You’re usually the one to text him good morning given your later wake up time, yet he’s been beating you to it lately. Yes, he knows you set your alarm 8:15 everyday because it's “the perfect amount of time you need to get ready and still make it to work on the dot”. But that doesn't explain why “rise n shine babe :))” pops up on your phone as you brush your teeth on the days you wake up early, too.

[8:06 am] you have to tell me how you do it

[8:06 am] Do what????

[8:07 am] im onto you mister 👁👄👁

[8:07 am] 👍👍👍

You spiral through the possible scenarios in your head: he has your location, but that wouldn’t tell him when you woke up right? Does your icon move around on the map? No, the location data isn’t that accurate. Maybe when you open your phone, your Facebook status shows that you’re online? No, you know for a fact that you both haven’t opened that app in years. Hmm, did he plant cameras everywhere in the apartment? Sure, you get the security utility of it but if he did it without telling you, there would be some SERIOUS things to talk about, maybe it really is all just guesswork and coincidence?

Sigh… you’ll get to the bottom of this eventually.

-

Jihoon doesn’t plan on telling you, but rather wants you to figure it out yourself. After all, he’s been dropping so many hints already. Your chill hangouts at his studio have a gentle hum of your favorite songs as background noise. He purposely asks you about the new albums of your favorite artists that, surprise, he’s already listened to. He even makes it a point to remind you that the speaker at home is hooked to his account every now and then.

Sometimes, he swears that you’ve figured it out and were just messing with him when you make little comments about your his song choices like “Really babe, you listen to your own songs this often? Are you sure you’re not a narcissist or something?” But besides these moments, there was no indication that you knew about his secret morning routine as you questioned him regularly about his tactics.

He has to admit, it was kind of amusing to see you growing increasingly suspicious of how on earth he figures out when you wake up, being particularly fond of the cute annoyed face you make when he tells you “No babe, I did not put an Air Tag in your pajamas, you barely sleep in clothes anyway.” Even your pout is adorable as you pretend to give him the silent treatment, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long. His little secret is safe for another day.

-

Jihoon has been working brutal hours lately. As deadlines for the upcoming albums drew near, his days start earlier than ever and end equally as late. However, the one thing he can always count on is coming home to you waiting for him.

It was the night of the new album release and you were more excited than usual, greeting him at the door like a lovesick puppy as soon as you heard the door handle turning. “Hi love, what are you doing up so late?” he pulls you into a quick kiss as he sets his stuff down.

“I wanted to wait to listen to the new album with you so you could see my reaction to it!” your eyes were beaming with enthusiasm. Jihoon’s heart swells at the sentiment, knowing that his partner supports him and his passions with such sincerity. You excitedly motion him to join you in your shared bedroom, full of anticipation to hear the fruits of your boyfriend’s labor for the past months. “Alright, you’re not allowed to be disappointed then” he jokes as he pulls out his phone, quickly finding the recently released album and making sure the volume is high enough before tapping the first track and handing it over to you.

Only a few seconds of the song passes before an idea flashes across your eyes. “Wait, let’s play it on the speaker!” you interrupt. You’re on your feet in seconds and before Jihoon could even reach over to press pause, you’ve already commanded your home speaker to play the track out loud. The music immediately ceases on his phone and switches over to the speaker.

Shit, he’s done for, he thinks to himself. He studies your face carefully for any indication that he’s been found out but surprisingly, your attention is laser focused on the melodies now reverberating around your apartment. You’re mostly quiet during the songs but the rhythmic nodding of your head and facial expressions are a tell all of how much you enjoy each track that plays, contorting in a myriad of impressed shapes as killing part after killing part reaches your ears.

As the album comes to an end you look like you’re about to burst at the seams. Your boyfriend can’t control his smile as compliments and detailed thoughts flow freely from your lips for the rest of the night, not ceasing even as the both of you walk through your unwinding routines together. God, you love comeback days. The elaborate music show stages that you will undoubtedly watch later that evening has already been pre-recorded, giving you precious time together in the morning before his schedule whisks him away from your arms once again.

As you get ready for bed, you drift off to sleep knowing that tomorrow, for the first time in what seems like forever, you can finally tell him good morning in person before he can.

-

Your alarm rings at 8:15 am. Jihoon doesn’t need to be up this early, but he would do anything in order to be the first thing you see when you wake. You roll around in his embrace and press a kiss to his cheek. “Good morning” you both whisper to each other at the same time, sending you both into a fit of giggles as you argue who said it first.

Jihoon watches in adoration from the bed as you so naturally go through your morning routine, one that he misses out on more often than he would like. Today, you forgo your usual morning songs as you queue up your personal favorites off the new album, much to his delight. He tries his best to burn this scene into his memory as you gather your things and prepare to head out, giving him one last kiss. You’re about to unlock the door when you pause in your tracks.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” he hums back from the bedroom.

“Enjoy the speaker, I can’t kick you off today.” you say with a smirk on your face as you exit the apartment, leaving Jihoon speechless.

[i-cant-sing]

Ok. Ok. HEAR ME OUT. Miguel hanging out with reader (shes chained to the chair) and feeding her (shoving food down her throat) bc she mentioned she hadn't eaten anything while Miguel was out handling business (beating up a child)

Ommg yess but like imagine reader being a spider person and unbeknownst to her, Miguel has grown really fond of her, seeing her as his own daughter and so he... dotes on you. Look, his family loss is still fresh, so he has this abundance of platonic love that he just needs to pour and you are luckily (or not) that person.

And papa Miguel is like trying so hard not to show that he cares about your well being, but HE DOES and he's always worried about you and he just wants to pull u out of the field and tell u its too dangerous for u to be spiderman, but he doesn't wanna say it because then he'll have to explain his concern for u and I've already told u guys that he's an emotionally crippled father who cant say "I love you" but their actions always scream out the words.

So, he thinks its best to just take care of you as best as he can without arousing suspicion from you or pulling u out of the field (cause he knows u love being a hero). He makes you food(mostly mexican because everything else doesn't have enough spice and it doesnt matter if u cant handle spice, you will LEARN to), okay? I mean good, homecooked meals, 3 times a day and he expects you to eat breakfast and dinner(ofcourse u have a curfew) with him. But lunches? well, since you're always on missions during lunch time, he packs u up some food for u to take and he always checks your bento box (ALSO SPIDERMAN THEMED OBV) but perhaps this one day, you forgot to or didnt want to take your lunch along (a very tasty burrito) and when Miguel sees your lunch in his kitchen, he is LOSING it all. My man here is making himself go crazy(ier) by overthinking the worst possible scenarios (because this is unusual behavior in his textbook) and he sends a sort of AMBER alert on your ass because you're not answering his calls/texts(cause ur busy fighting bad guys) and Miguel just sends the ENTIRE spider society to find where you are and bring you home ASAP. Obv the spider society follows his orders to bring you because he's boss man and he probably has some important reason to drag ur ass home and not because papa's heart cant handle that his baby missed lunch???

Omg can you imagine reader finally finishing tying up the bad guys and now stops by a pizza place to grab a slice and girl looks outside to see 100 spidermans swinging around, all coming her way. These guys all shoot enough webs until you were practically cocooned in them and perfectly immobilised, and then they all open up the portal to deliver u to Miguel.

And Miguel just shoos them all away before he begins to free u from the webs and asks where u were, what happened, did the bad guys hurt u, were u kidnapped.

"Yeah-" you pulled the webs out of your hair. "-by your men!" And Miguel explains that he sent them after you because he thought something bad happened to u.

"Why would you think that?"you inquired.

Because you forgot your lunch at home. No, he cant say that.

"I- my spider senses were telling me to. I guess they were wrong." Now before you could ask more questions, he changes the topic. "Anyways, you must be hungry. Lets eat lunch-"

"No, I actually ate a slice of pizza before I was brought here-" you start but Miguel glares at you as he pulls out a dish of enchiladas from the oven, placing it in front of you.

"You will eat. You're hungry."

"I'm actually not. Like I was saying-" but he glares at you again, piling up your plate with enchilidas.

"I wasn't asking, mija." He hands you the utensils, red eyes piercing you. "You are hungry, and you will eat. Now."

[luvv4j4ybe11]

Could you make fluffy headcanons for Lo’ak? Babie deserves some luv 🥹

YES!! I need more asks for lo’ak bc I love writing for my man😩

Warnings~ some suggestive themes, but other than that none! Just fluff<3

Dividers by ~ @cafekitsune

🎀 ~ babyboy actually adores you sm:( he’s such a little lovesick puppy it’s so cute

🎀~ like, one time you had to go away for a hunting trip, and the second you got back home he was practically glued to you. Telling you how much he missed you and how much he loved you:(

🎀~ loves when you play with his hair, or when you braid it (and ofc he does the same to u)

🎀~ ik we ALLL know it, but he’s such a “my love/ma tìyawn” , “ma” , “mama” “mamas”, typa guy and it SHOWS

🎀~ always checks up on you, like hes so in tune with you’re emotions. He can tell what’s bothering you just by your body language and breathing

🎀~ always convinces you to do dumb shit with him😭 and if you’re already naturally a reckless person you’d just add to his fire

🎀~ says “again” or “one more, mama” after kissing you (you always giggle and grant his wish ofc)

🎀~ holds and kisses you when you’ve had a bad day, having cramps or if you’re feeling a certain way:(

🎀~ always makes time for you, no matter what. He cares for you and he makes sure you know it.

🎀~ hates the people you hate, and if he catches them talking about you, you will be coming home to him with bloody hands and a bruised face.(the others looked worse tho!)

🎀~ will randomly compliment you when you’re doing something, just to see you get all giddy and excited

🎀~ hugs from behind, and amazing hand placement 😩

🎀~ “hyper bf 🫱🏽‍🫲🏾 hyper gf“

🎀~ loves to cuddle. Will literally pull you onto him (because he’s always taking advantage of how much more stronger he is than you) and force you to cuddle with him. And if you try to get off he’ll just lay on top of you!

“Lo’ak! Please! Get off of me! You’re too heavyy!” You shout, but he could care less. He was too busy shoving his face into the softness of your tits.

“I don’t care! You’ve been up for way too long and I need you to relax.” He demanded, pressing more of his body weight onto you.

You huff in annoyed, opening your mouth to say let out a snarky comment, but closing it the second he lifts his head up to glare at you like he knew what you were going to say. Finally making you submit to his advance, falling asleep under the comfortable weight of his body immediately.

🎀~ knows you have a tendency to overthink, so he’ll constantly be there to reassure you. And you always do the same for him.

🎀~ whenever he gets into in argument with his dad/ just has a bad day, he’ll always go straight to you. And you always know by the way his ears and tail hang all low and his his shoulders are slightly ridged, so without hesitation you take him into your arms (barley tho) and stroke his hair gently, allowing him to finally relax as he tells you briefly what happened.

🎀~ will pick you up randomly and throw you over his shoulder/ carry you bridal style. Especially if you’re talking to someone and he wants your attention ;(

🎀~ “bf that talks a lot 🫱🏽‍🫲🏾 gf that also talks a lot, but listens”

A/N~ here’s a lil sum before I start writing for “pandoras glow”! I kinda got a lil bored of writing this so I apologize if it’s a lil short😭 regardless tho I hope you enjoyed! Love you guys endlessly and stay safe💕

~

~

~

Taglist~ @tallulah477 , @hotdsworld , @itchaboi-itchyboy , @xylianasblog , @blue-slxt , @etherial-moon-blog , @criticallybella , @professional-yapper , @plooto , @rivatar , @spooky4spaghetti

(If you’d like to be added to or removed from my general taglist, lmk by commenting on this post or dming me! And if your @ isn’t working please check your settings💕)

[frogserotonin]

overthinker- lars pinfield x reader

a/n: short one bc im still in a slump rn many sorries. also sorry lawl this fic is so disconjointed and i’m really unhappy with it but whatever 😭 warnings: nothin proper i don’t think, most ooc lars to ever ooc, unedited; tell me if i've spelt smth wrong 😁

“Would you want to go out to get some lunch together on our break?” Your fingertips bounce off of the sides of your legs as you try to remain composed. You're so high-strung right now, you almost expect him to laugh in your face. Nerves and the effects of having slept a fitful two hours last night override your usually rational brain and you feel the need to just run away without receiving an answer bloom in your chest.

“I thought you usually brought lunch? If you forgot to bring some you can have some of mine, if you want.” Lars doesn’t even look up from what he’s working on, just adjusts his glasses and uses a vague jut of his elbow to point to his locker, where you know his bag is. Your heart simultaneously drops and stutters. 

“Oh, it’s okay, I just felt like going out to eat, thank you though.” You try to make your words seem more upbeat than you feel, unsure of whether or not to take his words as a rejection.

“Oh. Okay then.” It must be your imagination, but his words hold a hint of disappointment. You open your mouth again, then close it, and silence re-envelopes the room. Turning, you make your way to your desk and begin to work away, dejection slumping your shoulders forward and making time drag on. When eventually the lunch break arrives, you grab your bag and rush your way out of the lab.

A squeak of shoes on the concrete floor behind you almost has you looking back, but your brain is so addled you almost believe you’ve made it up.

Like a fool, you don't talk to him when you come back, or when you leave, the time you spend alone and in silence building up an anxiety in the back of your mind. The idea that he's all too aware of your feelings, and is made uncomfortable by them and your advances overtakes you completely. That night, you stay awake, tossing and turning, over analysing every interaction you've ever had with him, trying to make sure you've not overstepped and made a complete and utter fool of yourself.

In the morning, you consider it a miracle you leave the house at all, with how tired you are. The thought of calling in sick crosses your mind, but by the time you get up your body automatically locks itself into its usual routine, and you mindlessly get dressed and make your way to the Ghostbusters facilities. Through your drowsiness, the realisation that you’re at your desk and doing absolutely nothing sets in and you jolt. 

“Good morning.” If he didn’t sound so concerned, Lars would sound thoroughly amused. “You alright? Look a bit…off.” Your face flares, and you go to stand up, only to stumble and almost fall on your face. Hands out, you stabilise yourself, and then face him.

“Yeah. Morning.” You can only hope that he backs off, because his concern seems too genuine for your feelings to not expand exponentially the more he stands before you looking like he cares. “M’feeling just peachy, you?.” Belatedly, you realise your words are clearly not convincing because he doesn’t move an inch, simply studying you. He then sighs and shakes his head, chuckling a little bit, just softly under his breath, taking a couple steps closer to you. 

“When’s the last time you slept?” His voice is too gentle, too un-Lars-like, that you’re almost convinced you actually did fall asleep last night, and now you’re dreaming. You open your mouth to respond, but find yourself nodding off as you do so, the last thing you process before fully passing out is the feeling of arms around your chest and shoulders. 

When you come to, you sit up quickly, and slowly become aware of what had happened. Muttering cursing to yourself under your breath, you take in your surroundings, finding yourself slung over the small couch situated in the room reserved for taking time off from work briefly. Hurriedly, you rush out of the room towards where you assume Lars is working, apology already on the tip of your tongue. You approach him quickly and loudly, a fact that can be gathered from his head immediately snapping up when you enter the room. He starts to speak, no doubt to rattle off reasons why you were irresponsible and stupid for coming to work while being aware you weren’t at your fullest capacity, but you cut him off.

“God, I’m so sorry. That was humiliating, and I’m so, so sorry that it happened, it won’t happen again.” You bow your head, refusing to look him in the eye, but quickly look up again when you hear him laugh. 

“It’s fine, really, you just scared me a little bit.” His smile is small, but sincere and you remember fully the reason you were in the predicament in the first place. “Are you feeling better now?” 

You probably look a bit crazy with how vigorously you nod, but you barely care anymore. 

“Yes, thank you so much, really, I’m sorry that it happened.” He laughs again, and it sounds like heaven.

“You don’t need to thank me or apologise,” Lars’ eyes sparkle a bit behind his glasses when he properly smiles, and you can feel warmth rush to your face. He hesitates, like he’s calculating his words, then gently says “I-uh. I care for you a lot, it really meant nothing for me to make sure you were okay.”

[middstape]

You Deserve to be Here

will smith x mediamanager!reader

(making this lil blurb bc i'm overthinking the game tn HARD)

barely edited (it's super late this could be rlly bad)

word count: 1,176 JESUS CHRIST I DIDN"T KNOW IT WAS THIS LONG

———————————————

The time was a little after 9:45 when the game ended in a shootout loss. You could tell that the guys were bummed out being so close just to lose, not that you could blame them. 

You were supposed to do a bit of media with the team after the game but thought against it not wanting to pester them after what happened. Instead, you headed down the tunnel with your computer a few minutes after the team. Being a media intern you were in charge of most of the editing and interviews regarding the Sharks. With that being said you head to the staff room to finish up some editing before leaving for the night. 

Around a quarter past ten, you were broke out of concentration when one of the media staff members came in. "Hey kid it's getting pretty late you should probably check in for the night." As you start to nod she speaks again "Oh there's a stack of papers for you in the locker room to take home, the players should all be out by now." You smile at her before giving a nod and a quick thanks.

Packing your stuff up you head down the tunnel a bit more pushing the door to the locker room open. 

The light was still on but you didn't notice anyone heading over to the papers before grabbing them. Turning around you pause seeing Will Smith sitting in his stall, head on the wall and eyes closed.

You break out into a smile "Oh hey Will." He opens his eyes before giving out a small "Hey." 

You walk towards the door slowly "You did great tonight, had some really good plays on goal." you tell him not noticing his down demeanor. He gives you a tight-lipped smile but doesn't say anything. Your smile slowly starts to fade from your face "Hey you okay?" you ask him in concern. He looks up at you "Yeah I'm alright." he offers no other response. You stop walking all together knowing he's definitely lying. Instead of asking if he's sure you give a simple "Do you want to talk about it?"

He looks at you like he's shocked you're actually trying to keep the conversation going. "There's nothing to talk about really Y/N I'm fine." he sighs.

You press your lips together. "Okay well, mind if I sit?" before he could even get a response out you made your way over to him plopping down on the floor next to his stall. 

He goes to speak but you cut him off "Look I understand if you don't want to talk about it, especially with me since we don't know each other very well but there is obviously something going on and I refuse to let you or anyone sit and think about it alone." Will looks like he's trying to find something to say but doesn't find the right words.

Instead, you both sit in silence, a bit awkward at first but become more comfortable in time. 

About ten minutes after you sat down you have your eyes closed when you hear him finally speak. "I don't know why I can't get it."

You furrow your brows before looking at him "What do you mean?" He looks down at you "I choke every time I have a chance on net. I know I'm holding back and I don't know why." 

He looks heartbroken and your heart clenches at the sight. You take in his words trying to find the right words. "You're under a lot of pressure Will, no one expects you to get it every time you have the chance. This is nothing like college hockey." He shakes his head at you "No my team expects me to get it every time.. I-I expect me to get it every time." he chokes up.

You cut him off "Hey no no, your team expects you to try every time and you do. No one is perfect and you're playing amazing out there." He just looks at me and scoffs "I have one point this preseason." he shakes his head in astonishment "I can't even get a goal in the preseason how the hell am I supposed to perform well when it really matters."

You turn your body towards his "Exactly Will it's preseason these games don't count on your record and it's your first few pro games there's nothing wrong with getting comfortable and working your way up" He stares at the wall "Celebrini got his first goal his first game." 

"Will you can't compare your success to someone else's. Mack just had a really great opportunity then, along with linemates who could help him out. Remember it's not just you on the ice your teammates need to help you too."

Will lets out a shaky breath "I don't know, these last few games have been making me think I made the wrong decision about signing. Maybe I wasn't ready and should've stayed at BC."

You immediately shook your head "No, don't say that. You signed because you wanted to right? You decided all on your own right?" he looked at you hesitantly before nodding.

You smile at him "Then you were ready. Because if you weren't you would have never thought to do this on your own."

When he doesn't say anything and only looks at you, you continue "Look Will, you're an amazing hockey player. You weren't drafted in the first five for nothing. You deserve to be here, just like the rest of these guys. Just because things are starting off a bit slower for you doesn't mean you don't deserve all of this."

He looks at you giving out a small smile before just above a whisper he says "Thank you."

You smile "Anytime, anywhere." you start getting up "And look if you ever need to rant, my door is always open. I've got some flavorless protein biscuits with your name on them... I'll eat the ice cream for you." He smirks "Oh will you now?" You grin "Sure will, someone's gotta take one for the team." you joke. He lets out a small laugh "Might have to take you up on that offer sometime.. maybe not just to rant though." he trails off.

With red cheeks you look at him "Ha I'm sure I could work that into my schedule." He puts a hand on his heart "Just for me? I'm honored." You roll your eyes "Yeah whatever. Come on you have a game tomorrow and I refuse to be the reason you fall asleep on the bench."

He slowly gets up with a groan "Mm fine but only since you ordered so nicely."

Rolling your eyes with a smile hearing the sarcasm in his voice you head to the door "Good night Will." Walking out, you pause hearing him speak "Hey Y/N?" you look back "Yeah?" He stands and looks right at you "Thank you."

You give him a small smile "Like I said- anytime, anywhere." turning around you walk out the door.

--------------------------------

Bah okay this could be trash but I'm sleepy and emotional. It's so late so apologies if this made NO sense.

byeee

[6okuto]

ASTROLOGY BOT

1.2k words, just timeskip akaashi overthinking and crushing on gn!reader. LOL

akaashi has always considered himself ‘on the fence��� when it comes to superstitions and signs from the universe.

he might say ghosts aren’t real, but never goes near a supposedly haunted site just in case. he’ll ignore videos titled “for you” if he can’t relate, say it must have been a sign only after something goes wrong, and never acts on them even if he knows he has to.

but he can’t deny that he thinks about it throughout the day when it’s something he hopes is true—that maybe he’s tried out a few filters and trends to see if you, his crush of way too long, were his soulmate.

it’s bokuto this time, though, that sends him a sign.

a tweet, really.

an astrology bot on twitter that tweeted 17 minutes ago— “sagittarius, tell them you like them. they like you, too.”

AKAASHI!!!

i told you!!!

i turned their post notifications on to see if they’d say anything funny again and LOOK!!!!

keiji watches his friend’s texts come in through as notifications, eyes mostly fixed on the tweet, re-reading it over and over.

it’s a minute before he texts back.

it’s just a bot bokuto

it doesn’t actually mean anything

but bokuto is typing replies in mere seconds,

awwwww come on :((

remember when they were like

be careful virgo they don’t have the best intentions >:(

and IT WAS ABOUT ME ALMOST GETTING SCAMMED!! THEY STOPPED A SCAM!!! O____O

whats the worst thing that could happen???

i mean.. well…at least the worst thing that could happen ISNT u losing a bunch of money T_____T

imagine if u lost hundreds of dollars bc u confessed ;——; scary…

keiji breathes out a laugh.

i won’t lose hundreds of dollars but it’d haunt me for the rest of my life like every other embarrassing thing that’s ever happened and u know that

but thank you

i’ll think about telling them

he’s vaguely aware of bokuto sending another text with his name in all caps before he turns off his phone. it lands somewhere beside him on his comforter, and he takes off his glasses if only to run his hands down his face.

there’s a feeling he gets, akin to both butterflies and a 10 meter drop, when one of these bots decides to let his imagination get away from him.

for a few minutes keiji lets himself think it might be true, and that you think about going on dates with him the same way he does with you.

the latest idea he had was taking you to a new board game cafe that had opened nearby. he had skipped then swiped back up to its ad—a perfect spot for couples looking to spice up a regular cafe date!

he hadn’t closed his curtains properly that night, and the moon lit up his room while he stared at the ceiling. would you be competitive? would you rather play a co-op game?

would you see him sipping on his drink, and ask to have a taste?

he thought about how he might accidentally have some foam above his lip, and how you’d softly laugh before tapping above your own to signal his appearance. he cringed at the possible humiliation of looking silly in front of you, but it went away with the foam you’d gently swipe with your thumb, or maybe even hold his face to kiss away instead. you’d tease him and say it was as sweet as him.

but it’s nonsensical.

as far as keiji knows, whoever runs the account is using a random generator to pick a sign and bullshitting every tweet in their drafts.

it’s almost always only a sentence anyway.

but does that mean it’s a sign that this one was two?

keiji forces himself to stop thinking and takes a deep breath, letting the warmth hit his palms still covering his face. silence washes over him, and he lets his ears focus on the traffic outside, and the sound of the washing machine running a couple of rooms away.

but then he thinks about you. and he scrunches his eyes shut and groans, hands moving to grip his hair before he rolls over onto his stomach.

there’s a thud as his phone hits the ground while he pulls the blanket to cover his head.

sagittarius, tell them you like them. they like you, too.

sagittarius, tell them you like them. they like you, too.

not just tell them you like them, as if it was a shove to be courageous for once, but they like you, too.

did you like him, too?

was he good enough for you to like him?

did you hate him?

was he going to trust an astrology bot as uninformed about your feelings as he was?

maybe more importantly, was he going to let a bot dictate whether he finally confesses to you after almost a year of pining? a year based on the fact that one day you held the elevator door open for him with a smile and already knew what floor he needed?

(you had noticed him as the new employee, though he didn’t notice you while busy getting used to his job. he made sure to note the fact you got off the floor above him so he could press the button for you next time.)

and keiji doesn’t really believe in signs or the supernatural. he doesn’t want to let himself, because if he does then there’s probably a ghost in that shut-down building on his way to work, he’s gotten himself twenty years of bad luck, and he’s big enough of a coward that the universe decided to take it upon itself to tell him that itself.

but he’s hiding under his blanket when the absurdity of it all hits him—the anxiety and what-ifs and pretending he didn’t know you liked going for lunch a little earlier than him, and that he didn’t plan his break to say hello—and he feels like he’s sixteen again.

and maybe if there’s one thing he doesn’t want to feel other than being rejected, he thinks it’s being sixteen again.

so he jolts up.

and somewhere, in the back of his mind, keiji wonders if the universe jolted up with him, excited to see where this goes.

adrenaline working, he reaches for his glasses and fumbles to put them on with one hand while the other feels the floor to find his phone. the bright screen makes him squint, and the notification of bokuto’s “AKAASHIII :((” welcomes him before anything else.

sagittarius, tell them you like them. they like you too.

the tweet seems to be engraving itself into his mind as his shaky fingers hold his phone, and he taps your icon.

he skims the last text you had sent,

thanks keiji!! i’ll see u tomorrow then :) and remember we get off early!

it's a little embarrassing how his chest tightens at you his name and a smiley face. but he goes to type one himself, spending a second to mentally tell the astrology account they’re changing lives, but nothing more or else he thinks he might throw up—

btw if you’re free, did you want to grab food after work? there’s a cafe i wanted to check out with you :)

[ayyyez]

"Extra fandom options" she says, as if she means anything other than haikyuu 😂 Heheh of course you may do whatever you want always but you know what I'm here for, gotta be on brand.

SO if you have any thoughts of Tanaka and Ennoshita in a romantic relationship headcannons, either solo or in a poly relationship, I'd love to read them! Fluff and/or spicy, you know I'll happily read and gush over what you write. Thanks and you look good today!

Also first.

a/n: not these sitting in my inbox forever. But hey look I’ve finally gotten around to them bc I wanna think about hq while my sinuses hate me 😂 but im doing these first for you ��

Tags: relationship headcanons, fluff, kissing, spooning, confessing, poly (at the end)

Characters: Tanaka Ryuunosuke, Ennoshita Chikara (with x reader and poly [seperated])

Tanaka

God this guy is the most in love sap you would ever encounter but he’s so endearing.

After the whole ‘marry me’ Kiyoko situation he decides to hold back a little when he has a crush. But this is by Tanakas standards. His holding back is he very obviously has a crush on you but isn’t asking you out (or to marry you) right away.

Being near you and gestures are his go to. It’s canon. And how he reacts depends on how you are.

If you’re the type to go out of your way to talk to him then he’s like doki doki BEST DAY EVER! but also isn’t 10/10 intense every time you talk to him. He chills a little. BUT STILL DEDICATED TO YOU.

If you’re more naive or the shy type then just a small smile from you is enough to get him through the day. Very much oh boy they looked at me I’m the best wing spiker in the world.

To get into a relationship with him one of two things need to happen.

One: you gotta give him a sign that you are into him. Flirt-Tease him about his antics (particularly the taking shirt of woo) or just give him a compliment saying you’re into him. Give him smiles more than anyone else. Then he’s just ‘go out with me PLEASE.’

Two: ask him out. He will combust and Tanaka.exe will stop working for a moment. But then he’s like OKAY. (Doesn’t wanna fuck it up and over do it. It’s steered him wrong before)

Dating this guy means waking up the luckiest person ever. You are SPOILED with attention, gestures and affection.

Man is a personal heater. Big spoon, little spoon, doesn’t matter longs you be spooning.

A bit of a restless sleeper and sleep talker. It’s kinda funny the silly things he says. One time yelled ‘LEFFFFT’ in his sleep.

The only way to stop the wriggling is spooning him harder than you’ve spooned before. Still has a stray leg flicking every now and again but it’s better.

His first kiss has him sweating the details. Wants to make it perfect like in those manga he reads but overthinks it. He takes ages to do it if you want him to initiate.

Just kiss him honestly. The reaction is worth it. The reddest blush. Once again stops working.

Once he’s done it though his smooches are so good. Passionate boy starts soft then HES HUNGRY FOR MORE. Very intense. Kinda awkward with his tongue at first but he gets it.

He’s big on physical touch but it doesn’t have to be big. A hand held is gold to him. Cuddling is just something he lives for.

Cannot handle alcohol so you’re carrying (or organising others to) carry his ass home. Super sappy and happy drunk. ‘I love… youuuuuu’. A crier too. He just feels extra hard.

Get a couple into him though and he dances like no one’s watching. Actually not half bad until he starts stripping. Only you can stop him. He’s too obsessed with you to care about anything else he was doing.

Makeouts on the couch are BIG with him. Won’t take it further until you ask. Gotta be a gentleman. Yes even when his hands are squeezing your ass.

Ennoshita Chikara

The type to silently indulge in his crush every now and again while FIGHTING and PUSHING those feelings down.

At least, that’s how it is at first. He will be your friend first so he doesn’t want to compromise that. Just let’s pretend we don’t feel that for now shall we?

As if he could hold that back. It takes a while but it’s not long before something pushes him (he’s afraid of losing you) and he’s spilling his feelings.

He may be spilling but he’s seems like he’s confident with the monologue that comes out of his mouth. When he finishes his eyes are just wide and staring at your shoes. Evidently he was not so confident.

Grab one of this clenched fists. Pull his chin up to face you. Tell him you feel (maybe not in as many words as he did) the same way.

‘Are you sure!?’ ENNOSHITA PLEASE.

Honestly takes a while to accept it but once he does he is noticeably on top of the world.

Doesn’t announce it to the world but once people asks he’s smuggly like YEP WE ARE INDEED DATING peasants. Like damn Ennoshita.

A very caring and protective guy. Lets you do your thing while watching your back from the sidelines. Will punch people for you but won’t let that slip.

Very much a words of affirmation, tease and quality time dude.

Will go with the flow but will absolutely take charge.

His first kisses are those cute gesture ones. A kiss on the cheek, a peck on the lips or a smooch planted on the forehead.

You gotta grab this man by the cheeks and just plant one passionate kiss on him. That leaves him frozen for a second and then oop self control gone. MAKE OUT TIME.

More of an alone time physical touch guy but will break that when he’s particularly ehem into you. Or if some jerk thinks they can pick you up.

Plants one on you while maintaining eye contact with said jerk. Or places a very in your face arm around your shoulders.

Very much a big spoon guy. It just makes him feel protective. Also kind of like he’s leeching your hair warmth.

Pretty chill sleeper. Once he’s out he doesn’t move much. Sometimes you wake up facing him and he’s blowing air in your face (sleep breathing).

Kiss his nose and he’ll scrunch it in his sleep and let out a soft ‘mmm?’ But doesn’t wake up.

Tanaka and Ennoshita poly

You’re all in a relationship. Tanaka and Ennoshita included. Their crush on each other goes back a while they just never wanted to admit it.

You coming into their lives kind of makes it easier. Well eventually.

Once they realise they both have a crush on you both of them want to be the better man and let them have you. (Even if a small part inside them is screaming for the opposite).

It’s up to you to set them down and be like ‘nah uh I’ll have both’ and then also set them onto the path of realising they also like each other. It’s a very eventful week.

Ennoshita is still the big spoon. You’re the middle. Tanaka is either little or wrapped around you like a Koala. Depends on the day.

Ennoshita is the wrangler and kind of takes charge when he needs to. Tanaka is the passionate but also softy. It’s up to you whether you want to continuously go with the flow or take charge every now and again.

Just imagine sitting on the couch between them and taking turns making out. Start with Tanaka then come up for air and turn to Ennoshita. He’s a bit more intense when he’s second, handsy too. Then sit back and watch them kiss each other.

Every now and again you get home late and find them either cuddling or asleep in each others arms on the couch with some movie playing in the background.

Ennoshita brings his (grand) movie collection to the relationship. Tanaka brings his home gym. You tie it all together by hyping up both.

[f4iry-bell]

Headcannons of why each tig character would be in jail?🙏

avery

- it's v rare bc she's vvvvv good at getting away with stuff as we know

- when she does. the police would recognise her

- the first time she got arrested she was debating whether or not to call jamie, cause he would say "so much for master at getting away with things"

- her second option is alisa obviously or xander

- she would think it's better jamie than getting a lecture from alisa

nash

- would sit there quiet

- because he knows he is a sinner

- wouldn't call anyone for at least an hour

- will only call libby after an hour

- he would have been arrested for something vvv small so he won't be there longer

- he just takes his punishment well!!

grayson

- “do you know who I am?” ah line would come out of his mouth as soon as the cops come to him

- wouldn't speak at all or would keep yapping about “you have no idea what you've just done” , “when I'm out, I'll handle you”

- wouldn't speak a word because he's waiting for his attorney

- would gets looks from other people who have been arrested got bro got arrested in a suit.

- a total pain in the ass for the cops

jameson

- his home actually

- the cops would be like "him again?"

- he's banned from certain countries

- we know he is not good at getting away as avery

- he would proudly sit there and wait for his gf to rescue him

- never regrets his time in jail!

xander

- would try to talk his way out at first

- then accept the fact he is arrested

- would keep telling the cops that he has never committed any crime except this and that and this and that so they should release him because the whole thing is a misunderstanding

- "can i get a scone?"

max

- it's v rare actually

- also she'd be arrested with someone else

- like with xander or avery & jameson.

- she'd panick

- because of her parents

- she'll start praying to god

libby

- again like max she'd be arrested along with someone else

- she'd panick

- she'll be overthinking out LOUD

- she'd be talking non-stop about what would happen after

- "my sister is rich, she'll get me out. right?"

rebecca

- she'd silently want to cry

- but knows better and would call thea

- she'd be scared of what her mother might say

- she'd get super anxious about facing her mother than sentence

thea

- would be super mad

- would say "I'm thea calligaris" etc etc

- similar to gray

- would want her attorney there

[hongcherry]

pretty please (stay with me) || c.sc | 3

“After being assigned a fashion show for your big senior project, you set off to find volunteers to make it successful. However, when you meet Choi Seungcheol and his unfriendly clique through your volunteers, you realize they’re an unwanted package deal you can’t escape from. Can you handle Seungcheol’s obnoxious friends, and can he handle your brash behavior?”

🍒 Pairing: businessMajor!Seungcheol x fashionMajor!Reader (f)

🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Slice of life (!!!), slow burn, drama, fluff, angst; Unrequited enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, college au

🍒 Warnings: General tws + mention of death, mention of divorce, sugar daddy seungcheol (we love to see it)

🍒 WC: 12.6k

🍒 Betas: Sarah, Indi, Kelly, Freya 💖

🍒 Author’s Note: Already halfway through the series! Thank you for all the support I've gotten so far! (no I won't stop saying thanks bc I'm grateful for you all!). I'm really relieved people like it since I enjoyed writing it a lot ♥️

also read here: AO3 | Wattpad

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter

You sit on the edge of your bed, legs bouncing with anticipation.

He will be here any minute, and like before, you’re suddenly self-conscious of your outfit. You didn’t change it as many times as you did last time, but you still thought hard about it. You end up donning a black faux fur tube top, high-waisted black pants, and black heels. 

Your red pumps are an option, but you think they’re too much—a little too dressed up for a simple dinner… But then again you are wearing a top that resembles a fuzzy rug, so the outfit is already borderline “too much.”

And Seungcheol likes red.

Your eyes dart to the discarded shoes in the corner. Does it matter that he likes red—on you, to be more specific? If you wear those, will he think you wore them for him? Do you want to wear them for him?

As the questions tumble into your mind, you barely register your door opening.

“Honey?” your father asks gently.

Your head pops up to see him entering your room. “Yeah?”

“How late are you going to stay out?” he wonders.

You give him a quizzical look. He rarely questions you on your outings, let alone the duration.

“I’m not sure. I can bring home some food for you and Seoah,” you offer, thinking he needs you to bring back dinner since you will be gone.

“No need. I’m going to take her out once you go,” he replies.

You’re never good at hiding your reactions. Your eyes widen slightly before narrowing. This is odd coming from your dad.

“What’s the special occasion?” you wonder. You can’t recall the last time he took you both for food or just out in general.

“There’s none,” he says. You stare at him in silence as you take in his appearance. His usual eye bags are still present, but he looks more freshened up than you’ve seen in a while. It also looks like he put some effort into his outfit.

“Are you dying?” you ask, thinking he is trying to leave a positive impression before he leaves this earth.

Your dad’s eyes enlarge. “No, no, I’m healthy. I just,” he sighs. “Seeing your mother again made me realize I haven’t been very attentive to you and your sister.”

“This isn’t the first time she’s come back though,” you reply, confused as to why this time is different.

“I know. I can’t really explain it right now,” he says. “Are you going out with Dae?”

“Yeah—” a buzz from your phone “—she’s here.”

You stand up from your bed. “We can talk later, if you have time.”

“I’ll find some time,” he says. You aren’t sure if that is really going to happen, but you don’t want to ponder on that now. “Come back safe.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. Talking to a caring dad has your mind-boggling. You want to feel like your father is actually going to be in your life, but he’s been out of it for years, so it’s hard to imagine that changing.

Your father nods and makes his way out of your room. 

A knock at your door startles you from your daze. Before you can overthink the decision, you hastily kick off your heels and replace them with the red pumps. You apply a layer of matching lipstick, then toss the stick in your purse while you jog to the front door. Though what you see isn’t ideal.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ln,” Seungcheol greets respectfully.

“You as well, Seungcheol,” replies your father. You can’t see his face from where you are, but he sounds friendly. Not that he shouldn’t be. He has no reason to be hostile. You just aren’t sure if he’ll try to play the tough dad or not.

Plus, a part of you worries Seungcheol will be able to see past the “perfect family” facade and see all your imperfections.

You gently push your way in front of your dad, turning to face him with your back to Seungcheol.

“I’ll see you later,” you tell him and nudge him inside so you can close the door better.

“Now, just wait a minute, Yn,” he says and looks over your shoulder to Seungcheol. Your body tenses. He is not about to give the whole get-her-home-by—

“—by eleven o’clock. I trust you’ll keep her safe.”

Seungcheol doesn’t appear to be bothered by your father’s little protective speech. Instead, he gives him a reassuring smile. One that a gentleman would wear and one you aren’t used to seeing from him. Normally you get teasing grins.

“Her safety is my top priority,” Seungcheol says earnestly.

Oh God, now you’re stuck between a rom-com conversation.

“Great. Now that you’re both done going through your lines, can we go?”

“Lines?” your dad questions. You aren’t about to waste any more time explaining your lame reference to common daughter-father-date discussions. Not that Seungcheol is your date.

“Is that Seungcheol?!” Seoah’s voice rings behind your dad. Not her, too.

“Yup, it’s slang, bye Dad!” you quickly say, and instead of shoving him back inside as you planned, you turn and shove Seungcheol down the stairs.

“Hey, wait!” Seoah calls out and zips past you to Seungcheol. Seungcheol stands at the bottom of the steps, eyeing you with confusion at your strange behavior. He looks at Seoah when she stands at the top of the stairs.

“Hey, Seoah,” he waves at her. 

What did she do to deserve one of his dimple-inducing smiles?

“It’s good to see you back,” she beams, a grin on her face.

“You too,” he chuckles.

“Back?” your father asks.

Your attention zooms in on Seoah, and you hope the silent glare you give her is recognized by her. Her mouth drops open at the realization.

“I mean, it’s good to see your back! It’s nice,” she corrects quickly, gesturing around his body. “It’s, erm, wide and cool.”

“His back is wide and cool?” echoes your father slowly in puzzlement.

That’s enough.

Seungcheol laughs, his obnoxious little deep “ha’s” ringing in your ears. You quickly grab his arm and start to drag him away. 

“Have fun at dinner,” you say to your family while you briskly walk away.

Despite Seungcheol being strong enough to pull himself out of your grasp, he lets you lead him to his car.

“Do you think my back is wide and cool too?” he teases.

You whip around to look at him, pausing in your trek. You’re standing a little too close than you intended. “No, I think it’s mediocre and dull.”

He laughs again at your response. You flicker your eyes to the sky as you take a deep breath.

“Not another word,” you warn before guiding him to his car.

Your hand is on the passenger’s side handle, ready to pull it open, but Seungcheol stops you. He gently pushes your hand off before placing his own on the handle.

“I’m perfectly capable of opening your car door myself,” you grumble, arms crossing over your chest.

The corner of one of his lips raises. His eyes drop to your lips briefly.

“I know, Cherry,” he says, then averts his gaze back to your eyes, “but I’m chivalrous, remember?”

He pulls the door open and nods to get in. You narrow your gaze at that, wanting to challenge him on if he truly is.

“Can you guys stop flirting and get inside? I’m hungry,” Dae’s voice pulls you from your staring contest. You forgot she will be in the car already.

“You heard the lady,” Seungcheol murmurs to you.

“You’re going to get this heel stuck so far up your ass, Choi Seungcheol.”

He chuckles and leans in closer, voice dropping so only you can hear, “Sounds kinky, baby.”

You push down the fluttering of your heart at the pet name because you refuse to let him get away with that cocky reply.

“If you both don’t get in now, I’m leaving you guys and taking the car,” Dae threatens.

You glare at Seungcheol for a second longer before lowering yourself in the seat.

“Finally,” Dae mumbles when Seungcheol climbs in.

“Sorry, there was an… incident that delayed us,” you say and set your purse in your lap. Dae leans forward, placing a hand on your arm to turn you toward her.

“You don’t look sick,” she observes to herself. You scoff and brush her hand off you.

“Because I’m not,” you say.

Seungcheol starts driving as you speak with Dae.

“Are you sure?” she wonders.

“Why would you think I’m sick?”

“Because you apologized.”

You peer back at her, unamused. Dae just smiles.

“She also says please now,” Seungcheol chimes in. You groan at his addition and press your back into the seat. Your feet almost kick like a kid throwing a tantrum, but you hold back that urge.

“Well, now, she’s always done that…sort of. Have you been saying please more? I’m shocked. What about your ‘thank yous’? You haven’t forgotten those right?” Dae asks as if speaking to a child.

You sigh loudly, making it as audible as you can so they know how annoyed you are. Apparently, all Seungcheol’s outings result in your misery one way or another. “I’m not agreeing to any more of your invitations, Seungcheol.”

“I doubt that. You like my company too much to refuse,” he replies. He doesn’t appear to be bothered one bit by your statement.

“Does she now?” Dae wonders aloud. You don’t like where her mind is wandering to.

“Hush it, you two. The only tolerable one here is Yejun,” you huff, having seen him for a second when you glanced at Dae. He was on his phone then, but now he’s sitting back enjoying the bantering between you all.

“I’m honored to hear that, Yn,” he teases.

Even though the car ride consists of Seungcheol and Dae teasing you and Yejun, you’re grateful to get your mind off the troubles you’ve been having lately.

When you arrive, you quickly open the door and step out before Seungcheol can open it for you.

“I beat you this time,” you gloat as Seungcheol comes to stand by you, locking his car once the others are out.

There’s a small bounce to your step when you exit that causes Seungcheol to give you a warm smile, eyes staring at you with tenderness. 

“That you did, Cherry.”

Your elevated shoulders deflate while a pout takes over your features. His reply is too casual. You had expected something more witty.

“While you two do a round two of flirting, Yejun and I are going to go inside,” Dae says before wrapping her arm in Yejun’s and leaving you both by the car.

She walks away too fast for you to reply, so you turn to Seungcheol. He wears a red turtleneck, black pants, and a black leather jacket slung over his arm. The shirt hugs his body nicely; it outlines his muscular chest ever so slightly and makes you yearn to see more. His hair is styled a little to still look natural but gives it a different appearance. He’s really handsome tonight. Red seems to be his color as well.

“You’re not going to wear that?” you wonder while pointing to his jacket.

He shakes his head. “It’s too hot right now.”

“Then why did you bring it?” you ask, eyebrows coming together.

Shrugging, he takes your hand in his. Your first instinct is to pull away—startled at his sudden touch. You’ve never held his hand before. The act seems a little too intimate… Makes you feel a little too warm.

Nevertheless, you keep your hand in his. The feeling is rather nice if you’re being honest with yourself. His grip is firm to make the grasp feel secure but not too tight to be suffocating. It’s as if he’s just naturally used to having a strong grip on things.

“We don’t want to keep them waiting,” he says before making his way to the restaurant. You stay silent as you walk next to him.

“I’m glad you listened to me,” he comments when you are near the entrance.

“Huh?” you ask, glancing up at him.

He gives you another smile and reaches past you to hold the door open.

“Red still looks good on you. Even if there’s only a little of it.”

So he did notice.

You tear your gaze from him at his compliment, heart beating quicker. You can’t keep it steady even if you try. You feel a little proud you decided to go with the shoes after all. 

You mumble a ‘thanks’ before walking inside. He follows behind you, greeting the host. The host gestures to where your friends are all seated before wishing you a good dinner. It almost looks like they are a group of people celebrating something, but you know they aren’t. There are just a lot of you. And of course, the two empty seats happen to be next to each other at the end.

“Hi, Yn! Hey Cheol,” Joshua greets. When everyone notices you, there is a chorus of hellos. The large welcome has you smiling, not used to the friendly attention. 

All the people who are helping you with your project are here, plus a few others. They make you promise not to talk about the show before sitting down, claiming you need a break from it. You want to protest as you can talk about whatever you want, but they have a point. You probably do need a mental breather. Thus, you agree to their conditions.

You sit between Seungcheol and Wonwoo, who you just met. He’s a film production student and like Vernon, keeps mostly to himself. Despite that, he isn't shy to engage wholeheartedly in the conversation if he is passionate about the topic. You also meet Jun and Seungkwan for the first time—Seungkwan being the more outgoing of the two.

Seungcheol’s friends are a lively bunch, and although his business friends can get rowdy as well, their energy just doesn't match this group. It’s more relaxing, carefree, and so easy to slip into. However, a part of that can be because you don’t feel like you’re on defense the entire time.

For the first time in years, you are surrounded by people you thoroughly enjoy—without the stress of being the best, viewed as being the enemy, and the pressure of keeping your family together with tattered strings. It’s all so… alleviating. Comforting.

Seungcheol keeps his arm hung over the back of your chair as you attentively listen to his friends. Sometimes you would feel his hand on your back and would turn to see if he needed something. He always shook his head and nodded back to who was speaking—sometimes it was multiple, and you just picked the closest conversation you could hear.

You’re so used to hearing Seungcheol’s voice that you don’t realize how quiet he can get. At first, you’re concerned, but you realize he’s enjoying sitting back and watching his friends have fun. You don’t know how long he’s known these people, but from the fond look in his eyes, you know the duration doesn’t matter. They mean a lot to him.

You wonder if he’ll ever look at you like that in the future. Like you are someone he cherishes and adores. Suddenly, you want to try everything in your power to achieve that.

Once the food arrives, you figure the noise will quiet down. That isn’t the case. The table is still chatty even though it should be filled with munching. You suppose this is the pros of being with a large group.

Seungcheol had moved this arm so he could eat, but he put it back when he was done. When his fingers graze your back for the nth time, you finally peer behind you to see his hand. You giggle as you realize he’s been playing with the fuzz of your top the entire time.

“Sorry,” he sheepishly apologizes and retracts his arm from your chair. You grab his wrist, guiding it back to where it was.

“It’s fine. It’s nice,” you murmur.

“And cool?” he taunts, referring to Seoah’s attempt to hide the fact that Seungcheol had been to your house before.

You scowl at him half-heartedly before turning away. In spite of the loud environment, your ears still catch his low chuckle behind you.

Not once this night did Seungcheol put on his jacket. He never came close to needing it. Nevertheless, he didn’t hesitate to drape the material over your shoulders when he saw you shiver for the third time. There’s a tiny part of you that wonders if he brought it just for you. Though that’s a reach as he wouldn’t have known what you were wearing. You could have brought your own.

Despite feeling warmer, you miss his hand touching your back. Sometimes it would tickle your bare skin whenever you moved a certain way; it had shivers running down your spine. It could’ve been because of his cold hands, but you knew it was more because of his skin touching yours. You’re tempted to remove his jacket just so you can feel his touch again.

“Hey Yn,” comes a voice behind you suddenly. You glance up to see Jeonghan. He leans on the back of Seungcheol’s chair to look at you.

“Hi,” you greet. He’s sitting on the other side of the table, so you wonder what brings him over.

Jeonghan glances down at Seungcheol, one hand on his shoulder. “Seungcheol.”

“Jeonghan,” answers Seungcheol suspiciously.

“So, I heard you’re paying for some people’s dinner,” Jeonghan trails off.

Seungcheol leans forward to move away from the man.

“Emphasis on some,” he replies.

“One more won’t hurt, right?” Jeonghan asks with an innocent smile on his face; however, you know that grin is more devious than it appears. It means trouble.

“Hm, you’re right,” Seungcheol answers, then glances past you. “I’m sure Wonwoo would love a free meal.”

Jeonghan whines at his reply. “Not him! Me! Pay for mine, buddy?”

“No,” Seungcheol says with a small laugh.

“Seungcheol’s paying?” Soonyoung’s voice rings out from across the table. Their conversation, albeit not loud, catches his attention. Or perhaps Soonyoung just has a keen ear for the words “pay,” “Seungcheol,” and “free”.

“No!” Seungcheol says, louder than before.

“Seungcheol’s paying?” More voices resound this time, all heads turning toward Seungcheol.

“No, I’m not,” the man in the center of attention declines. He sends a glare to Jeonghan.

“Isn’t he so generous?” Jeonghan says, disregarding Seungcheol’s answer, and goes to wrap his arms around Seungcheol. The latter man has no choice but to accept the hug as he is trapped due to the table.

Whoops, hollers, and thanks reverberate from the group.

Your eyes scan the table. It’s covered in plates. Sure, a few meals aren’t too bad, but paying for a table of sixteen is absurd. Perhaps they’re all joking with him. Though, when they all begin to file out of the building without opening their wallets, you know they’re serious.

Seungcheol stays seated as they leave, informing you both they’ll wait outside. 

You stare at Seungcheol in shock. You figure he’d be infuriated, but he looks relaxed still. Almost as if this isn’t the first time it’s happened.

You grab your wallet from your purse, plucking out your card and holding it out to him.

“I can help pay,” you say. Seungcheol glances at your offering. He smiles at you and pushes your hand back.

“I appreciate that, but don’t worry about it, Cherry.” He sounds amused as if you just offered him a popsicle rather than money.

“But this is way too much for you to pay alone,” you argue.

Seungcheol doesn’t let you see the bill and pays for the meal swiftly. However, you don’t need to see the total to know it’s a lot of money.

“Seungcheol,” you scold when he doesn’t listen to you.

He chuckles and slides his card back into his wallet. “Put that away, and let’s go, baby.”

He gestures to your card still in your hand before standing up and adjusting his clothes. It takes you a few seconds to move, still dumbfounded by him actually paying for it all and affording it, and him calling you baby. Despite him only calling you that three times, it still has the same effect it always has.

Not that you are counting.

He takes your hand in his again as he walks out, thanking the host once more.

“There’s the man!” Seokmin greets him with open arms when he sees Seungcheol.

Seungcheol shakes his head in disapproval, but he has a smile on his face. “You all owe me now.”

“You say that every time,” Seungkwan calls out.

“Exactly. You all have a tab open,” he says.

“We were thinking of getting some ice cream, you guys want to come?” Chan asks.

Seungcheol glances at you before saying, “I’ve got to get her home, sorry.”

“What?” you ask. “No, you don’t.”

“It’s almost eleven,” he answers. You sigh and shift your weight.

“You don’t actually have to get me home by then,” you say, remembering your father’s words.

“Yes I do,” he argues. He looks at Dae and Yejun before you can reply. “Do you both want a ride back?”

“Nah,” Dae says. “We’re going to get another one.”

“Alright. See you all later,” Seungcheol raises a hand in farewell.

“Thanks for paying!” Mingyu exclaims, a bright smile directed toward Seungcheol.

“It was nice to meet you, Yn,” Wonwoo says.

“Get back safely,” Jun adds.

“Thanks,” you answer and then peer at Seungcheol. He’s giving his last byes. Dae catches your gaze, giving you a big grin and a few eyebrow wiggles. You roll your eyes at that and send her a small wave as Seungcheol starts to lead you to his car.

When your friends start driving past, waving and shouting goodbyes while they leave the parking lot, you slow to a stop.

“Why don’t we go with them?” you ask.

Seungcheol raises a brow. “You want to go?”

“I don’t see why not,” you shrug. Truthfully, you don’t want the night to end.

“You like hanging out with them that much?” he teases.

“They’re not that bad,” you mutter, “and ice cream sounds nice.”

He lets out a breath as if in realization. He slides his hand from yours, which you are about to protest, and then drapes it around your shoulders.

“I’ll get you ice cream on the way back, okay?” he replies and continues to his car.

Seungcheol keeps his promise, stopping by a place to get you both a double-scoop cone for the drive. Compared to the last time you were in his car, this ride is a lot more relaxing. It’s quieter since Dae and Yejun are absent, but the music on the stereo fills the small space.

At a stop light, Seungcheol fishes his phone from his pocket.

“Come ‘ere,” he says, lifting the phone up at an angle.

You peep up while licking your ice cream. “Hm?”

“Smile,” he instructs and puts his cone in the frame.

Your gaze drifts to his phone, a puzzled look on your face just in time for him to capture a photo. You’re a second too late to understand what he’s doing.

Seungcheol laughs at your unreadiness.

“Hey! That’s not fair,” you whine and nudge him.

“That’s not my fault. I told you to smile,” he says. He sets the device in the cup holder when the light changes.

“But you didn’t give me enough time to do that,” you grumble.

Not wanting him to have the upper hand, you retrieve your own phone. You lift the device, both your faces on the screen but only you are looking at the camera. Seungcheol is focused on the road, so you quickly take a photo.

“Did you—? Okay, that’s not fair. At least I told you to smile,” he laughs when he hears a click, taking a quick peek at you.

“We’re even now,” you smile as you click on the picture in your gallery. Seungcheol’s side profile can be seen in the background. His tongue is poking out to take a lick of his ice cream. That part was unintentionally taken, but you find the candid photo endearing.

“For now,” he replies, lips in a wide grin.

Your hands are sticky after you’re done with your treat, so you dig out the hand sanitizer in your purse. Seungcheol gives you his palm upon seeing the item. You laugh softly and place some in his hand as well.

Everything feels so normal. It doesn’t help that he places a hand on your thigh so naturally that you can’t find an excuse to move it. At some point in the drive, you start playing with his hand, running your fingertips across his skin and toying with the ring he wears. You don’t even realize you are doing it until he slowly pulls away to put the car in park.

“Did you have fun?” he asks quietly.

For once, you don’t shy from the truth with a sarcastic answer. “I did. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Again, it wasn’t just me. They wanted you there,” he reassures with a kind smile.

That’s weird for you to hear, and you aren’t sure how to respond. You still can’t wrap your mind around the fact multiple people wanted to be in your presence. You mean, it wasn’t just yours, but normally people give you side-eyes when you’re near. Or perhaps you just feel like they do.

“I’m glad you came,” he says before turning off his car. “Now, wait while I open your door.”

You watch as he walks around the car and comes to your side. You want to disobey him, just to rile him up, but you decide to let him have this win. In all his chivalrous glory, he holds out his hand when he opens the door.

“Thank you,” you giggle as you take it and climb out of his car. He keeps his hand in yours leading you to your house.

“You don’t always have to walk me to the door,” you say.

“I can’t see the door from where I park,” he replies.

“You don’t need to?” you answer, but it comes out more as a question due to your puzzlement.

He chuckles and squeezes your hand. “Of course I do. I won’t know if you made it inside safely.”

“That’s kind of you, but—”

He turns around to face you, stopping you in your tracks

“I meant what I said earlier. Your safety is important to me,” he says, eyes locking onto yours so you can see his seriousness. Heat rises to your cheeks. You try to bite back the smile though it’s no use.

Seungcheol stares at you with gentle eyes.

“I like seeing you hap—” he starts.

A loud noise startles both of you, forcing you to move away from one another. You expect to see Seoah or your dad watching from the windows, but you don’t see any faces hiding behind the blinds.

What was that?

Another loud crash.

You don’t like the doom that creeps into your mind. Worried about your family, you rush to the door—only to find it slightly ajar. That doesn’t seem good.

“Seoah? Dad?!” you call out as you push open the door.

“Yn, stop!” Seungcheol urges and runs after you. He grabs you before you can get farther in. He moves you quickly so you are behind him.

“Get out of my way, Seung—”

“Who’s that?!”

You peer around Seungcheol to see your mother, a random knickknack you have around the house in her hand. Your eyes shoot down to the floor to see shattered glass.

“Are you out of your mind?” your father shouts and snatches the item from her hand before she can presumably throw it.

You shove Seungcheol out of the way. Well, you try to shove him. He stands firm in his stance. You try again, and although he still doesn’t move away, he leans slightly over so you can see better.

“What are you doing back?” you question your mother. She turns to you, eyes puffy and lips curled in a snarl. She looks like she hasn’t slept for a few days.

“Yn, dear. Hi sweetie,” she greets, voice softer than before.

Seungcheol watches her with hawk eyes, but when you push him for the third time, he relents. Though he still keeps close.

“Dad?” you ask, hoping to get an explanation.

“She came wanting her stuff back. I told her we had to sell some of it to afford things, and she wasn’t happy about it.”

“Am I supposed to be glad?” your mother growls as she turns back to your father. “You had no right to do that without my permission!”

“You weren’t here,” you say. Her gaze on you is one of surprise as if you’re supposed to be on her side.

“I was coming back,” she says, shoulders sagging.

“And then leave after a few days. This isn’t your home anymore.”

“You’re my home, baby girl,” she replies and starts to come closer. Seungcheol takes a step forward.

You put a hand on his arm to stop him, telling him quietly, “This isn’t your problem.”

This doesn’t make him move, and you sigh. This is exactly what you wanted to hide from Seungcheol. To hide from the world.

“Who is this? You’re letting our daughter see this disrespectful man?” your mother questions your father. 

“He’s a nice young man,” your dad defends. There’s an annoyed spark in you that wants to ask how he could know that. He met him for five minutes or less, and suddenly he knows Seungcheol? However, you don’t want to ignite another argument.

“Yn, take Seoah with you and go book a hotel room. You can take my wallet,” your father instructs.

At Seoah’s name, you realize she’s been home while all this has been happening. You’re used to her being somewhere else when fights like these occur. 

Without another word, you nod and start toward her room. You don’t get far before you remember Seungcheol. You stop to peer at him. 

You’ve never seen him so mad yet worried.

“Thanks for the meal. I’ll talk to you later,” you dismiss, hoping he will turn around and leave so you can focus on Seoah. You should’ve known he wouldn’t do that.

“Yn,” he says.

“Boy, get out of this house right now,” your mother declares.

“You’re the one that needs to leave,” your father exclaims.

Sighing, you grab Seungcheol’s hand and pull him down the hall. You knock on Seoah’s door. Your parents fighting can still be heard.

“It’s me,” you say. The door creaks open.

“What do y—Oh, Seungcheol!” Her eyes widen when she sees him.

You move in front of him more so she’s focused on you. “Eyes on me. Pack a bag. We’re going to a hotel.”

“Again?” she sighs. “I don’t want to. I can just put my headphones in.”

“It doesn’t matter. Pack. We’re leaving in fifteen.”

“I said I don’t want to!” she huffs.

“I don’t ca—” you hiss, only stopping when Seungcheol places a hand on your hip.

“You can stay at mine.”

Seoah’s eyes light up at this.

“Really?!”

“Absolutely not.”

You and your sister say in unison.

“Why not?” Seoah whines.

“We don’t need his help.”

Seoah stares at Seungcheol for a moment and then at you. Finally, she nods solemnly. “Alright, I'll be ready soon.”

“Good,” you reply, then walk to your room. Seungcheol follows you.

“You shouldn’t have said that in front of her,” you scold as you grab a bag, not bothering to look at him. He quietly closes your door to block out the noise outside, though you don’t hear it shut fully.

“Maybe not, but I meant what I said,” he replies.

“And I meant what I said,” you pause while putting a shirt in the bag, eyes glancing at him. He leans against the wall near your door; his arms are crossed. “We don’t need your help.”

You go back to tossing clothes in the bag in a rush. You kick off your heels and trade them for socks and tennis shoes. You don’t hear Seungcheol move until a hand is gently placed on yours.

“Just stop for a minute, Yn,” he says.

“I don’t have time.” You brush his hand off and go back to your closet. Seungcheol grabs your reaching hands and turns you to face him. He leans in so you can see his face easier.

“Stop,” he instructs, using that firm tone of his. It has you relenting. “It’ll be faster to just stay over. You won’t need to deal with a hotel. They may not even have an empty room.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with us,” you reply, chest jumbling with overwhelming emotions. You were happy with him just minutes ago. Now, you feel embarrassed and frustrated.

He shakes his head. “I want you to come. You won’t be bothering me.”

“Do you have a roommate? What would they say?” you question, thinking back to how some of his friends are rooming with each other.

“I live alone. I have a spare room Seoah can sleep in. It’ll be more comfortable there.”

“What about me?”

“You can have my room.”

“I’m not going to kick you out of your own room, Cheol.”

He smiles, yet it doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’s nice to know you care about me.”

“I don’t,” you huff. “I just don’t want you to give me a hospital bill from the back pains you’d get from sleeping on the couch or floor or wherever.”

Seungcheol chuckles softly and watches as you take a deep breath. The playful moment disappears as quickly as it came.

You bow your head; wrists still clutched in his hold as you ponder his offer.

Staying at his place rather than a hotel does sound nicer, and he has a point there may not be any openings. Not to mention, it’s the cheaper option. But will this be crossing into territory that you aren’t ready for? You’ve hung out with him enough times to consider him your friend, but even then, that’s new to you. Friendship doesn’t come easy to you. Despite you clashing heads with his business peers, you feel Seungcheol has slid into your life too readily. Like it’s too good to be true, and he isn’t going to stick around permanently. Something in you doesn’t like that thought, but that’s an issue for another day.

Seungcheol places your hands on his chest before moving his own to cup your face. He gently lifts your head up to see you. Your eyes are glossy, not yet crying but can easily if one more thing goes wrong.

For the first time, your veil of confidence lifts.

“Stay with me,” he whispers.

He’s talking about going over to his place to get away from your parents. You know this. That’s what this whole discussion is about. But why does your heart tell you he means something else?

There’s a knock at your door, and you move away reluctantly. Seoah shuffles inside with a backpack on her back.

“He’s still here,” she says, surprised at Seungcheol’s appearance.

You clear your throat. “Yeah, we’re,” you pause as you do one final debate in your head, “we’re going to his place for the night.”

From your peripheral, you see Seungcheol’s lips lift in a faint smile.

Seoah’s sad face brightens at the news. You aren’t too sure why she’s so excited to go to his place, but you figure it’s similar to your reason—it isn’t a stuffy hotel room.

“You convinced her! You’re so clever!” she exclaims to Seungcheol.

“I am, huh?” he agrees to which you nudge him.

“Seoah, will you go grab my toiletries, please?” you ask.

“Hm, fine, but only because I forgot mine,” she replies and hurries to your shared bathroom.

“I’m clever, did you hear?” Seungcheol gloats while you finish packing.

“I’m pretending I didn’t,” you mumble. 

You zip the bag and toss it over your shoulder. As you expect, it doesn’t stay there for long. Seungcheol carefully slides it off your body before putting it on his a few minutes later. You had opened your mouth to protest, but he shook his head to tell you not to argue. Sighing, you nodded because frankly, you’re done having and hearing arguments for now.

You meet Seoah in the bathroom, and you all walk to the door. 

The yelling has stopped. 

Your mom is sitting with her head in her hands, and you can hear her sobs filling the room. Your dad is cleaning the mess she made from tossing things around. They are talking, but you don’t stay long enough to hear the topic. The few words you do hear make it sound like they’re talking about their marriage, which is a conversation long overdue.

Seungcheol ends up carrying all the bags to the car. While he sets them in the trunk, you and Seoah sit inside.

“Woah! This is fancy,” Seoah admires, eyes scanning the small space.

“Thanks,” Seungcheol laughs lightly as he drives away.

Seoah talks for a while before eventually falling asleep. You aren’t surprised as it’s late, and she probably doesn’t realize how much the drama took a toll on her.

“You can sleep too,” Seungcheol offers quietly. He keeps his hand to himself this time, and you wonder if it’s because of Seoah or because he wants to distance himself from you. You can’t blame him if he did. Who wants to deal with other people’s problems? He only offered for you to come over out of courtesy.

“I’m okay,” you reply, gaze cast out the window.

As if sensing your thoughts, his hand comes to rest on your thigh again. His thumb brushes against the material of your pants, offering some comfort and reassurance. You place a hand on top of his gently. He flips his over so he can curl his fingers around your hand. You both gaze at each other with a small smile before turning away, hands still clasping in each other.

Seungcheol carries Seoah and her bag once you arrive. He offers to carry your bag too, but you’re stern in your refusal. He’s helping enough. He directs you quietly to his apartment number. After retrieving the keys, you open the door.

His apartment is spacious.

The interior is polished and decorated nicely. Similar to his car, it’s enough to tell you it’s luxurious but not obnoxious to shove it in your face. And man, is he wealthy. From his car, his clothes, the dinner bill, and now his apartment? His pockets are definitely not empty. You’re sure he could rent or buy a house, so why he decided to live in an apartment is unknown. 

Seungcheol leaves to put Seoah in the guest bedroom while you lock the door. You place the keys in a bowl near the entrance. Some of his shoes are left by the door, so you take off yours before walking any farther.

“Cherry?” he calls out. A small smile forms on his lips when you respond to the name. He nods for you to come over, and you follow carefully as if you could break his flooring. You don’t think you can afford the repairs if you do.

“You act like you’re walking on glass,” he chuckles. He watches you with amusement.

“I don’t want to break anything,” you explain.

Seungcheol glances around where you are. The path you take is pretty much empty, but you still act as if you are going through a maze of porcelain vases.

“You’ll be fine. Now walk a little faster, please,” he says.

You don’t listen to him and keep your pace. Seungcheol eyes you as he leans his back against a wall. His head is tilted and his arms are crossed while he waits.

“You’re cute,” he comments when you come closer.

“Be quiet,” you hiss and take a few more steps before stopping in front of him.

“No,” he says defiantly, then guides you to another room. Although you don’t see the room he put Seoah in, you’re positive you have just stepped into his room.

You were so caught up with your family drama that you didn’t think twice about Seungcheol being in your bedroom. Now that you are in his, it dawns on you how much of your life he has seen in a short period of time.

It isn’t a big deal. At least, it shouldn’t be; however, bedrooms are personal. They often described the resident, and you and Seungcheol have seen each other's spaces in the span of an hour.

“The bathroom is over there,” he points out. “You can set your bag anywhere. I’ll be out there on the couch.”

“I should take the couch,” you say.

“Cherry, don’t argue. Not tonight. You’re sleeping here.” His words make it seem like he is tired of your complaints, but he talks so softly that it doesn’t feel like that.

“Fine,” you comply.

Seungcheol rewards you with a smile. “Goodnight then. I’ll see you in the morning,” he says and starts for the door.

“Cheol,” you murmur, reaching out when he comes by.

He stops as soon as he feels your hand grazing his arm. “Hm?”

Your eyes rise to meet his, and the look on his face has you needing to catch your breath. He is worried. Worried about your well-being. Worried about what would happen tomorrow. You don’t want him to stress over you.

“Thank you,” you speak softly, “for a lot of things.”

He chuckles and raises a hand to the nape of your neck, thumb caressing your cheek. “Care to be specific?”

“For dinner. For this. For not… leaving me.” Yet.

“I don’t think I would if I could,” he murmurs.

“You can, though?” you say, skepticism evident in your head tilt.

Seungcheol’s mouth curves into a small smile, eyes searching yours for something you don’t know. “You’ll know one day.”

That doesn’t help your puzzled state, but that doesn’t seem to affect him. Slowly, he leans in. His lips press against your forehead tenderly, lingering there long enough for you to close your eyes for a second. It’s gentle and sweet. You wish it was on your lips instead.

“Sweet dreams, Cherry.”

He leaves without another word, and you’re in such a stupor that you don’t have time to say anything before he shuts the door behind him.

Using Seungcheol’s bathroom and changing in his room is strange. Yet what’s more strange is that it doesn’t feel all that… weird? Not like you thought it would be. 

Is it another illusion you cast upon yourself? 

Seungcheol would stroll through the door, dressed in sweats and a loose shirt… or maybe not one at all. He would kiss your mouth in greeting. His broad body would press against yours, and he’d smile that smile that had you wanting to do anything to keep it there. He’d slide next to you in bed, whispering teases in your ear that would annoy you, yet you wouldn’t want him to stop.

Oh, hell. What is wrong with you?

Irritated at the mini story you conjured in your head, you kick at the jacket on the floor. However, you recall you didn’t bring a jacket tonight. Seungcheol had let you borrow his. You just kicked his jacket.

Oh no.

But it’s just a jacket. Why are you getting upset over it? You can kick it again. It isn’t going to come alive and bite you. Seungcheol will never know you fought with it, but something in you feels guilty about the action. Perhaps because it belongs to him, and you feel responsible for it since it’s under your care.

Shaking your head, you grab the item and hang it over his dresser. You’re losing it. Your marbles? All gone. Rolled off to another dimension, never to be seen again.

You move to his bed, carefully pulling back the covers to climb in. Your body sinks into the mattress, and a sigh leaves your lips at how good it feels under you. It’s comfortable, soft, and way too big for just you. You feel like royalty.

Leaning over, you switch off the night light, snuggling deeper in the covers and taking a deep breath.

Sleeping in his bed is surely a bad idea. His expensive cologne is lingering on his sheets and is a strong reminder of where you are. Nevertheless, you pull the covers closer to you as you close your eyes. You need a break from your tiring thoughts.

The morning comes sooner than you’d like.

You open your eyes expecting to see your pegboard of sewing supplies and instead see a black dresser. It has you jolting up and frantically glancing around. When you spot the black jacket on the dresser, you remember you aren’t home. You’re at Seungcheol’s.

You reach over and flip your phone to view the screen. It’s nearly ten.

You linger in bed, mindlessly scrolling through social media until Dae texts for a favor. You’ll fill her in on what happened later, for now, you’re forced to go to your gallery to send a reference of something she needs. The act has you stumbling upon the picture you took last night.

The stretch of your lips happens involuntarily as you stare at Seungcheol through your screen. Even though the night ended poorly, at least you have something to remember about the good times.

Having caught yourself staring at the photo for too long, you quickly exit the app and send Dae what she needs. That’s enough phone usage for now.

Reluctantly, you haul yourself from Seungcheol’s (beyond) comfortable mattress, fix the bed, and then go to the bathroom. After a quick change, you carefully open the door and pad out to the living room. You anticipate seeing Seungcheol sipping on something warm on the couch, but what you see instead has your heart tightening.

Seungcheol lays on his back, one arm resting across his eyes and the other across his chest. Some of his hair is trapped against his forehead due to his arm, and the rest dangles off the side. His lips are slightly ajar due to the position of his head. The blanket that was once over his body is now situated half on the floor.

You recognize his clothes from last night, and a pang of guilt hits your heart. He could’ve knocked on your—his—door and asked to get a spare of clothes, yet he left you alone. It was a selfless act, and you stare at him with newfound affection.

You shuffle in your spot, unsure of what to do. A part of you wants to be a creep and stare at Seungcheol longer—he looks too cute not to—and another wants to go back to his room until you hear some movement. Neither of these happens when you hear Seoah’s voice.

“Are you plotting his murder?” she whispers, though it’s louder than one.

You snap your eyes to her, feet moving farther from the sleeping man. You scoff, muttering, “No!”

“Then why were you staring at him like that?”

“I was not staring,” you argue. Seoah’s eyes narrow, unbelieving you.

“Were to! You weren’t even blinking.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“And you’re lying.”

You both eye each other down from across the room, sending invisible daggers each way.

“Go get dressed,” you finally say.

“Why?” she questions. “We’re going now?”

“Soon, yes.”

“But it’s so nice here. Don’t you think we should, I don’t know, cook him breakfast for letting us stay here?”

“We can give him a granola bar when we get home,” you sigh. Just once, can she listen to you?

“A granola bar? I didn’t think you hated him that much,” she gasps, overexaggerating her expression.

“You’re right. I don’t. I’ll give you the granola bar instead,” you threaten.

She giggles, and a frown sets on your lips at the sound. “You can’t. They’re all gone. I gave them to Dad.”

There’s a small puff of air somewhere in the room that doesn’t come from you or Seoah. The only other person in the room is… Your eyes go to Seungcheol. Sometime during your bickering, Seungcheol had woken up. He doesn’t have his eyes open or has even moved his body, but his lips were definitely not in a smile a few minutes ago.

“Did you hear that, Seungcheol?” Seoah asks. “Yn’s trying to kill you with granola bars.”

“Hm, I heard,” he chuckles softly, still a little sleepy. He peels his eyes open and leans his head to the side to look at you. The arm that was once over his eyes has shifted to rest on his forehead. 

“That’s not very nice of you.”

You should be irked at being ganged up on. They’re teasing you, yet your mind gets foggy from hearing Seungcheol’s deep timbre. He already has a deep voice, and you’ve heard it go deeper when he’s teased you, but this is different. 

And goodness, do you find it attractive.

“I think we won,” Seungcheol continues playfully and looks at Seoah with a smile.

“I think so too! She doesn’t have anything to say,” she giggles.

You blink a few times and then look at Seoah. “Why aren’t you getting changed?”

“This is why you don’t get invited to parties. You ruin the fun,” she huffs, smile dipping into a frown at your words.

“Parties aren’t fun in general,” you counter.

“Speak for your own parties!” she says.

“What do you even know about them?” you question. Seoah opens her mouth to answer but stops when Seungcheol speaks.

“Seoah, go get dressed, and we can get some breakfast. One that doesn’t include granola bars,” he chuckled.

“Oh?! Okay! Sounds good,” Seoah replies excitedly and turns to go back to her room.

“You listen to him and not me?” you scoff.

She stops in her tracks. “He’s nicer.”

“I’m your sister,” you answer as if that holds more weight.

“Right,” she drags out. “I revoke that privilege!”

She hurries inside the room and shuts the door.

“Privilege,” you repeat with a scoff and cross your arms over your chest.

“You should’ve been a lawyer,” Seungcheol says as he stands from the couch. You focus your attention on him, almost forgetting he’s there with how quiet he is being. His hair is sticking in different directions, and you have to force down a giggle.

“What? Why?” you question.

“Because you like to argue.”

“Hmph!” you sound and give him your back. A childish move, but Seoah isn’t here to mock you for it later.

Seungcheol laughs and comes up behind you. He places his hands on your hips, leaning his head to your ear. Your heart begins to race at how close he is. His breath tickles your ear, and you squirm at the sensation. Seungcheol holds you tighter.

“I think you would’ve been a good one,” he murmurs, voice still deep from his sleep. You want to listen to him more.

“Really?” you hum.

Seunghceol’s hair brushes against your cheek when he shakes his head.

“No,” he teases before slowly slipping his hands from you. You whip around to look at him.

“Where are you going?” you ask. Why do you sound so desperate? You don’t need to be near him. It doesn’t matter he’s leaving.

He smiles as he walks back toward his room.

“To get ready. Don’t miss me too much,” he replies, sending a playful wink and shutting his door.

Seungcheol comes back dressed in a simple black short-sleeved shirt and jeans. It’s not a combination you haven’t seen before. In fact, it’s really common, yet your eyes can’t tear away from him.

“Is it stained or something?” Seungcheol questions, glancing down at his outfit as he walks to you.

“N-no,” you reply and avert your eyes from him.

“You know you can tell me when I look nice, right? My ego will only inflate a little,” he says.

He plops down next to you on the couch, swinging an arm behind you and spreading his legs a bit. Your gaze drifts down to his thighs. They’re thick, and you wonder if they will be soft or firm under your touch. Your body instinctively inches closer to him like the temptation is too strong to ignore.

You hear Seungcheol try to stifle his laugh, causing your eyes to move away.

“A little?” you echo when you recall the active conversation. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

He smiles and shrugs. “Well, what can I say? A pretty girl giving me compliments makes my ego grow bigger than usual.”

“Cheol,” you whine, glancing away, wishing he wouldn’t say things that make your heart do somersaults. You had put those thoughts under lock and key because you are definitely not developing an infatuation with Choi Seungcheol.

Seungcheol tucks a finger under your chin and turns you to face him, so he can see your flustered expression clearly.

“My pretty girl,” he murmurs so low you have to strain to hear it.

Silence looms over you both. You swear he can hear your thudding heart. His hand glides from your chin to your upper thigh.

“You gonna’ give me that compliment now, baby?” he prompts lowly while his hand gently massages you.

“You look good,” you reply quietly, fighting to stay calm.

“Only good?” he hums.

“Really good.”

Seungcheol chuckles. “I guess that’ll do for now.”

Your lips tug down when he pulls away from you, making Seungcheol pause and smile.

“Don’t be sad, Cherry. You can compliment me more later,” he says. You have a feeling he knows the true reason for your pout but decides not to mention it.

You’ll have to work on hiding your expressions better. For now, you focus on making sure you and Seoah don’t leave anything before heading out the door. You don’t fight with Seungcheol when he takes your bags again. It’s just easier not to.

As promised, Seungcheol drives you all to a local breakfast diner. It’s lively—filled with all different walks of life. You see couples, friends, families, and some loners who don’t actually look alone. They seem content.

Seungcheol must come here often as most of the workers recognize him. They’re happy to see him with new people this time. You think you catch sight of one of them giving him a thumbs up, but it could’ve been directed to another patron.

“This tastes amazing!” Seoah exclaims, another fork full of pancakes entering her mouth.

“Don’t eat so fast,” you scold when you see her cheeks full.

She brushes you off with a wave of a hand but waits until she swallows what’s in her mouth before taking another bite.

“Is yours okay?” Seungcheol asks from across the table.

You had wanted to sit next to him, but Seoah had pushed you inside the booth and slid in after before you could have a say. Though Seungcheol doesn’t let the distance stop him from giving you affectionate touches. He has been brushing his leg against yours slowly under the table for the past ten minutes.

You glance at him and nod. “It’s great,” you say.

“I’m glad,” he responds before taking another bite as well.

The rest of the meal isn’t anything exciting. You all eat well, and when it comes time for payment, Seungcheol beats you to it. You try to pay, even going as far as trying to distract him, but he remains adamant. You reason he just paid for a hearty meal last time, and the least you can do is pay as a thank you for spending the night. He only shakes his head.

Seoah is much more awake on this car ride. Her mouth almost never stops running. She gives Seungcheol so many compliments on his apartment you figure his ego is bursting at the seams. He’ll be full of them for days. Then Seoah talks about you—well, tries to. You shush her every time she attempts to tell an embarrassing story.

“But he should know how you can’t eat more than three egg rolls before throwing up—” Seoah says from the backseat.

“Seoah!” you huff for the umpteenth time.

“Seriously, Seungcheol, she ate so much one time that her body can’t eat a lot anymore,” she continues. You rest your head against the headrest with a groan. You don’t want to go to jail. Deep breaths.

Seungcheol laughs, taking a quick glance at you. “Fully noted,” he replies.

“Good! You should know this stuff since you’re her boyfriend,” she says. “Well, not yet, anyway. You’re going to ask her out, though, right?”

The question has you holding your breath. You don’t expect him to answer as it isn’t any of her business, but there is still some hope that he’ll respond.

Seungcheol makes a small choking noise while he tightens his hold on the steering wheel, obviously startled by the sudden question. His face becomes flushed, and his ears turn a light shade of red. It isn’t often you see this side of Seungcheol, and you almost let Seoah continue. Almost.

“I—” Seungcheol starts.

“You’re five seconds away from being kicked out of this car,” you threaten Seoah as you turn in your seat to glare at her.

“Seungcheol wouldn’t do that to me,” she protests defiantly.

“There’s always a first for everything,” you smirk at her. “Plus, it’ll build your character.”

She gives you a shove on the arm and pouts.

“Don’t worry, Seoah. You’re safe with me,” Seungcheol says after he collects himself.

Seoah straightens at that, sticking her tongue out at you. “Told you so!”

You mutter a “yeah” at her as you shake your head and glance at Seungcheol. He gives you a lopsided smile before looking back at the road.

That night your mom and dad discussed their relationship.

It’s been delayed long enough, and all that pent-up anger finally bubbled over, resulting in your mom becoming the Hulk for five minutes. You had never seen her so mad, but you’re grateful she was throwing the objects on the floor rather than at your dad or Seoah.

They agreed to break up officially. It’s always been a cloudy subject with them. You didn’t really know where they stood, but it’s clear to you now. Whatever hopes of getting your family back won’t come true. Your parents have some money and plan to file for divorce papers soon. You aren’t sure how custody will work, but you figure Seoah will stay with your dad. Your mother is too busy traveling to take care of your sister. Despite your dad also being busy, at least he’ll be home more. Though, you get the feeling you’ll still have to look after her. 

As promised, your father put aside some time to talk to you. It wasn’t a lengthy conversation, but it was… nice, regardless. He apologized again for not being there for you and Seoah and said he’ll try to be better. He’s honest in that he tells you it will take some time, but you’re grateful he wasn’t feeding you fairytales. 

Two weeks pass by with the same schedule—wake up, homework, class, homework, dinner, sleep. You meet with Dae a few times to work on your project, but that’s all. You have a quarter of your outfits completed for the show, which feels good, but you still have more to finish. You’re on track with your own deadlines, but barely.

You haven’t seen Seungcheol much during the weeks. If you do, it’s only through passing. Texts with him have also been minimal due to your schedules. You should be fine with that. You’ve seen and talked with him plenty that weekend to last weeks, yet you can’t get him out of your mind. 

You’re not sure when you’d grown so attached to the man, and that makes you worry. You’ve only known him for nearly three months. It’s too soon to feel this strongly. To feel like you need him. You need to focus more on something else. Anything but him. You have repeated this in your mind, trying to make it stick. 

Though it isn’t too successful, considering you are sitting on your bedroom floor with Seoah stringing beads as a thank-you gift for Seungcheol. You want to blame this on Seoah, but you had come up with the idea. Seoah is here because you know she has been wanting to do something. However, if you are being honest, the main reason is you need an excuse for why you are making a bracelet for him. The idea is silly, but you found a bunch of beads in your room and needed to do something with them. Maybe this is too childish for someone like Seungcheol. You were going to back out of the plan, though Seoah was over the moon at the suggestion. Needless to say, you couldn’t change your idea even if you wanted to.

“These beads are too small,” you grumble as you try to pick up a bead for the third time.

“You just want to complain,” Seoah replies, having no issue with plucking beads from the container. You glance at her work. She used pink and blue beads only, alternating between the two. There’s also an “S” dangling in the middle.

“‘S’ for Seungcheol?” you wonder. Seoah glances at the letter and then at you.

“No. ‘S’ for Seoah. I want him to know it’s from me,” she explains. You laugh a little. A two-for-one use.

She tilts her head at yours. “Why the cherries?”

Your body warms at the question. It’s simple. Innocent. Nothing inappropriate or difficult to comprehend. Though the answer is more complicated, or at least, it’s too personal to share.

“They matched my colors,” you shrug, acting as if it has no significant meaning, but you know otherwise. 

You want him to be reminded of you any time he sees it. You want to be on his mind as much as he is on yours. It’s only fair. Plus, in a weirdly possessive way, you want to feel like he’s yours. Even if that isn’t true.

“There are strawberries, too,” she points out.

“I just grabbed the first charm I saw.”

“Ah,” she examines the unfinished bracelet. The beads are alternated in a different pattern than Seoah’s. It consists of mainly white beads, a few red and green ones scattered between. “It’s nice.”

As you tie the string, you consider the chance of him not wearing it at all. Is yours too much? Too cheesy? Should you just have given him money and left it at that? Why did you spend an hour planning a design and ensuring the beads you picked weren’t scratched or chipped? Seoah had finished hers minutes ago but stayed watching you.

It’s been a while since you hung out with Seoah alone. You hung out more when your mother was here, but even then, it wasn’t too often. You aren’t as close as you feel you should be. You glance at her once you are done. She’s been growing fast, slowly discovering her personality and interests. You know you will never win the Best Sister Award, but you can try to be an honorable mention.

“Seoah?” you call, fingers toying with the finished bracelet.

She’s staring at your hands, but you can tell she isn’t really registering what is happening around her. Somewhere lost in her thoughts.

Still, she answers and looks up. “Yeah?”

“Do you,” a pause, “want to sleep over in my room tonight?”

It isn’t a big deal. You don’t plan to have a pillow fight and do each other's nails, but you would have company.

She looks happy for a split second and then narrows her eyes. “What’s the catch?”

“There’s none,” you shake your head.

“Then why did you ask?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. Not quite ready to fight through the awkwardness of a sappy conversation.

“I thought it’d be nice to have some company, but you don’t have to,” you answer and grab her bracelet. You slide them inside a sheer bag you found, pulling the strings to close the opening. You stand up and place it in your purse. You’ll give it to him tomorrow.

“I want to!” Seoah says quickly when she feels like you’re changing your mind. “Let me go get changed.”

“It won’t be like the sleepovers you have,” you warn when she gets to your door. You don’t want her to get false ideas. She smiles at you.

“I know, but I don’t care.”

After you both are ready for bed, you lay staring at your ceiling. She talks about her classes, friends, and even a few crushes she has. She’s a social butterfly; unlike you, people enjoy talking to her. She is quirky enough to put some fun in conversations, but not excessive to come off rude or overbearing. You’re not sure how she grew to be such a good person because she sure as hell didn’t learn that from you or your dad. Whoever it was, though, you’re grateful. You’ve stopped feeling close to your family, so you quit putting effort into getting to know them more. 

Maybe you should change that.

This feels like walking in a tiger’s cage.

You are surrounded by people dressed up in suits and others in plain jeans and a shirt. The majority have neutral colors on, and it’s different from what you’re used to. At least in your building, there are more colors.

There’s no way you’re going to be able to camouflage yourself in your all-pink plaid outfit, so why try? 

You keep your chin high as you try to find the study room, ignoring the many stares you receive on the way. You texted Seungcheol earlier and asked for his location. When he asked you why, you simply said it was a surprise.

Room 526.

There’s a window in the door, and you peer in to see if he’s there. He is. Though he isn’t alone. Hajun, Hana, and Doyun are there as well. They’re silent, heads bowed, as they all work on something in front of them. Seungcheol seems deep in thought.

That is until Hajun makes a comment while glancing at Seungcheol. He smiles, chuckling at whatever she said before they both go back to their work. 

It’s odd to see him in this environment. He acts so casually with the very same people who only spit insults at you. You know Seungcheol has never stopped talking to them. You didn’t tell him to, and they were his friends before you. Yet, there is still a twinge of disappointment that he remained friends with them. 

Dae’s words ring in your ear from weeks ago—he could have left you. Then there is the devil on your shoulder telling you he should have. However, you tried that already. You made that decision for him, but he came back. And you let him.

“Yn?” says a male voice behind you. You jump, turning on your heel quickly and moving from the door.

Vernon stands with his backpack hanging off one shoulder.

“Vernon,” you say, startled. “What are you doing here?”

He smiles shyly. “I’m late for a study group.”

“I thought you were changing majors?” you question.

“I am, but I figured I’d stick it out for the classes I have. Don’t want to waste any more money than I already have by withdrawing,” he chuckles sadly.

“It’ll be worth it once you find something you like,” you reassure.

“Thanks,” he replies and gives you a toothy smile. He looks so young with that grin. “I should go in before they text me again.”

You step aside as Vernon moves.

“Hey, can you tell Seungcheol to come out?” you ask quickly before he opens the door.

“Sure,” he replies.

“You took your time,” Hana teases when the door opens.

“It’s not my fault my phone died overnight. I didn’t hear my alarm,” he pouts. There are a few chuckles that echo in the room.

“Oh, Cheol?” Vernon says. There’s silence for a second. “You’re needed outside.”

“Why?” Seungcheol asks; he sounds distracted.

“Yn’s here.”

“Yn?” Hajun questions, surprised. “What is she doing here?”

“I’ll be right back,” Seungcheol says as you hear the sound of a chair scraping the floor.

“She’s probably just here to recruit you for her stupid project. You don’t need to help her. Let’s just get back to work,” Hajun reasons. “Vernon’s here so we can get done faster.”

“I’m sure you can wait five more minutes,” he says. You listen carefully as his footsteps become louder. The door squeaks when it’s pushed open more.

You look up at the noise and meet Seungcheol’s eyes. 

Your breath gets caught in your throat. 

His hair is pushed off his face, a few pieces hanging down deviantly. He wears black slacks and a tucked-in white button-down. The tie around his neck is loosened and the first few buttons of his shirt are undone. 

His once-stressed face soon brightens as he lets the door shut. He moves closer.

“Hey, Cherry,” he smiles.

“Hey,” you reply, a little breathless from having held your breath.

“It’s good to see you,” he murmurs, leaning a forearm against the wall. You notice he’s keeping his distance, and you’re unsure if it’s purposeful. Perhaps you’re just overthinking again.

“You too,” you reply. Your eyes take one more quick sweep of his attire. How he makes a simple fit look so remarkable is beyond you.

“I can tell you want to give me another compliment,” he haughtily says.

You huff, trying to disguise your panicked expression with faux annoyance. “Not when you tell me that.”

“I can wait,” he says and disregards your comment. He lays his head against the arm that’s on the wall as if he’s taking a rest. You want to wipe that smug smile off his lips.

“You’re insufferable,” you whine.

“No, baby, I’m patient.” He speaks slowly as if to emphasize his statement.

You glare up at him but soon relent with a huff. “You look good.”

“Oh, come on, you used that last time. Don’t you have another adjective? Maybe one that rhymes with pot?” he smirks, an eyebrow rising in challenge.

He wants you to call him hot.

You aren’t going to at first, but then you decide you’re done with him having the upper hand. You recall his shocked and reddened face at Seoah’s question in the car. It would be nice to see that again.

You close the space between you, hand grabbing the end of his tie. Slowly, you wrap the material around your palm. His smug smile slowly disappears with each inch you tug him closer. He pushes his forearm off the wall and sprawls his hand on it instead. His other hand grabs your hip so he can’t tumble forward.

“I’ll say something even better,” you purr lowly. Your faces are so close to each other that you can faintly feel his breath. “You look very sexy, Seungcheol.”

The hand on your hip squeezes you, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob from his harsh swallow. It feels good to put him on the other side for a change. You smile triumphantly at his reaction before letting his tie unravel from your hand.

Taking a step back, his hand slips from your body, and you dig into your purse for the jewelry bag.

“Here, I came to give you this,” you explain and hold the bag up. His eyes drop from yours to the item. He still looks a little dazed.

“It’s a thank you for letting me and Seoah stay the night.”

Seungcheol takes the bag, flipping it over in his hand. He brings it closer and examines it through the sheer material. His lips slowly tug up. Before he can say anything, you hastily continue.

“It was Seoah’s idea. You don’t have to actually wear them, we—she just wanted to give you something.”

Seungcheol starts opening the bag, and you swiftly put a hand out as if to stop him. “You don’t have to open it now, you can do that la—”

He takes out the two bracelets, twisting them until both charms are facing him. You drop your hand and start playing with the strap of your purse, resisting the urge to tap your foot as you stand in silence watching him.

“T-the ‘S’ is for Seoah, not Seungcheol,” you explain. You’re not sure why you do it in the first place. It doesn’t really matter what the ‘S’ really stands for.

“And the cherries? What do they represent?” he questions, eyes flickering to you with a faint smile.

Your heart hammers in your chest. He doesn’t need to ask that. He knows what they represent.

“They’re just cherries. Don’t think too muc—”

“That’s not true and you know it,” he scolds gently. Your eyes focus on his hands as he carefully slips both bracelets on his wrist. They fit around him perfectly. They aren’t too tight to dig into his skin, but they are loose enough to allow a finger or two to slip through.

His gaze moves back to yours. When he notices your averted gaze, he leans in to catch your attention.

“What do they represent?” he repeats, a hint of sternness to his voice.

You meet his eyes reluctantly. “Me. They r-represent me.”

“Yes, they do,” he says, finally letting his smile show more. Seungcheol slips the bag into his pocket. “They’re nice. Tell Seoah thank you.”

“I will,” you answer, clearing your throat. “I’ll let you get back to studying.”

“Don’t you want your thank you?” Seungcheol chuckles and takes a small step forward.

Your body freezes in place. “I don’t need one.”

“Hm,” he says. He takes a quick glance at the study room’s door before cupping the back of your neck gently. Warmth spreads from that area to the rest of your body. You stare at him with wide eyes.

“Thank you, Cherry. Really,” he murmurs and then kisses your forehead for the third time since you met him.

You truly aren’t keeping track. Definitely not.

“I’ll text you later?” he says, though it sounds like a suggestion.

“Okay,” you agree with a small nod.

“You going home?” he asks and slowly walks back to the door, hand grazing your skin as he leaves.

“No, I have a class. Do you have a test or something?” you wonder, recalling how serious he looked earlier.

“A presentation,” he says. That explains his attire.

“Ah. Good luck,” you wish.

You’re not sure what comes over you, but you quickly added, “Oh, and Seungcheol?”

His hand is pressed down on the door handle when you call. He turns his head to you, waiting for your reply before he goes inside.

“You do look sexy.”

Seungcheol laughs, less flabbergasted about your compliment this time.

“Thanks, Cherry. You look beautiful.”

He says it as if it’s as easy as breathing. There’s no hesitation or delay in his comment. You wonder how long he’s been thinking that.

Seungcheol pulls the door open before you can reply and slips inside. As the door is closing, you hear Hajun ask, “Goodness, was she trying to get in your pants? You took forever!”

“Enough, let’s just...”

The door clicks close as Seungcheol speaks. You’re tempted to press your ear against it to hear the rest of the sentence, but you remember you’re in public. You inhale slowly, pausing for a few seconds before exhaling gradually. 

Why does every conversation with Seungcheol leave your heart racing?

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter

A/N: brb swooning 😪 also if i knew how to draw well enough, i would def conjure up the pic mc took of cheol bc in my head it's just SAUR CUTE D:<

For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

taglist: @iammisstora, @christinewithluv, @lithelust, @musingsofananxiouspotato, @yoozuku, @lockburn-castle, @mystikhal-blog, @oncloudvii23 (cant tag :c), @cheolcherries, @mingyublues, @maknae00, @morklee02

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[lover-of-mine]

okay so I had a really terrible thought and I’ve been following you for a while and I wanted to hear your thoughts (maybe i’m just in a place of doubt rn) BUT

since they’re basically writing the episodes as they go, and are seeing fans reactions (and possibly taking them into consideration as they write), do you think if they see such a positive reaction to buck/tommy, they’ll make him more long term (and possibly endgame)…? again, I could be overthinking it but I’ve been seeing a tON of buck tommy stuff and idk if they’re going to consider that when they write the upcoming episodes for the rest of the season…like buck/tommy is cute ig don’t get me wrong bc we see bisexual buck and him enjoy his first male relationship and like i’m so proud, but…i’m an eddie-girl and buddie has always been my endgame

Okay, hi, ngl, I had this exact thought too when Tim kept insisting there's no plan. But the thing is, I don't believe him. I believe he doesn't have the full plot locked and loaded, but I doubt he doesn't have any idea where the story is gonna take him. Personally, I doubt that a few weeks of excitement over Buck being bi will be louder than 5 years of people BEGGING for buddie to happen. Buck and Eddie have a compelling relationship that's been cultivated for YEARS. And, look, far from me to make Buck's bisexuality about Eddie, but making a character who's HEAVILY shipped with another man for years queer in season 7 while having no plan on following through with the love story they've been building for 6 seasons would be dumb. Buck with a new guy and Eddie doubling down on being straight and ending up with some random woman is the worst case scenario here. This fandom is weird in the way that most of it is mono shipping. It's Buck and Eddie together or nothing. So they would piss off the homophobes, who are already pissed, and a solid amount of the people who have been following buddie for years and that's bad for business. They have the power to have a ridiculously compelling queer love story that's built on a foundation that's been there for 6 seasons. Buck and Eddie getting together could be EPIC. And they made the move to make Buck queer. They didn't have to. I love that Buck is getting a queer storyline, but if we are going there with Buck, what's actually stopping them from going there with Eddie? I don't see how you can have one of them being queer and not go there just because people are excited that Buck is bi. Tim can't say it's gonna go there. That would be a spoiler. A huge spoiler. But narratively speaking, or from a business perspective, Buck being bi has to mean buddie getting together. Because that's what people have been wanting from them. And honestly, if they wanted to play Tommy as having any chance of being Buck's endgame, he wouldn't have so many parallels with Taylor. The TK of it all, the helicopter of it all, the kiss that happens because Eddie is injured, Buck is even wearing a shirt that looks like the one he's wearing when Taylor comes back, like, seriously, what the fuck? And that's not going into the symbolism they have to know is there on the way the loft itself is a symbol of romantic doom, because Buck got it in a relationship that instantly Ended and the 2 times he started something there it went up in flames, so like 🤨🤔 I'm curious to see where it's going, but, personally, don't see them actually lasting the rest of the show. At least that's what I'm telling myself to calm down when I panic and trip into the bad place lol

[angel-of-the-moons]

Hmm okay okay so fic idea where we discover somehow that Pavitr has very prominent lower back dimples

(if you don’t know what those are definitely look it up! it’s so attractive 😫)

and maybe when we bring it up to his knowledge, *he didn’t even realize he had them till we pointed it out* he kinda lifts up his shirt and looks in the mirror and AUTOMATICALLY starts overthinking and becomes insecure so we kinda start loving on him we gently like push him down onto the bed and just kiss across his back telling him how he has NOTHING to be insecure about bc we find him and them to be attractive

Okay I googled them and oh my god??? Yes they are??? WANT GIEV KISSES??? DO PEOPLE ACTUALLY FIND THEM UNATTRACTIVE?! Like akhslhsldndjsjwhooh

(Also I recommend listening to this song because a Pavitr AI I was chatting with had it playing on his phone (and singing it) when he was getting ready for our date and let me just say I can totes picture him just singing it regularly!)

All Of You

Pavitr Prabhakar x Reader

Because I'm tired of repeating myself: PAVITR IS AGED UP IN THIS FIC

TW/CW: None really, a suggestive comment by the reader at the end (nothing happens tho), Pavitr being a poor, embarrassed mess

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

You dumbly flick through the pages of your magazine as you chewed your gum, reclining on the soft pillows and scattered cushions you had lettering your bed.

If one thing you knew about your boyfriend Pavitr, it was that the man loved to cuddle. And in his own words "no better place to have a cuddle puddle than the softest cushions on Earth!"

You couldn't deny that his love for copious amounts of cushioning was heavenly, especially after a long hard day at work.

Right now however, Pavitr was currently humming the tune to "Desi Girl" as he changed his clothes in your shared room (he was overjoyed when you agreed to move in together).

He had a bit of a tic you came to adore which was his habit of humming or singing when he did things. Well, not really a tic per se, so much as it was an endearing little habit he had.

You watched him as he pulled his shirt off over his head, hair bobbing as he did, and your eyebrows raised. You did love to see him with his shirt off...

"Oh." You hum, looking over your magazine.

"What's up?" Pavitr asked, looking at you with an adorable head tilt; much like the stray pups he loved to feed.

You giggle, holding the magazine to your face, hiding your smile.

"C'moooooooon!" Pavitr says, rolling his eyes, a smirk playing across his lips.

"Tell me!"

"You have such cute little back dimples!"

"I have cute what??" Pavitr's face dropped, and he immediately began to spin, trying to look over his shoulder at himself; looking again, like one of his stray dogs chasing his tail.

He walks over to your floor length mirror and uses it to look at himself, frowning with a worried crease to his brow. He apparently didn't like what he saw.

"Oh." He mumbled.

You sit up and close your magazine. "Pavitr? What's wrong?"

He doesn't answer immediately, just stares at himself over his shoulder, eyes not leaving those dimples.

His brow furrows and a frown creases his normally smiling mouth.

"Pav?" You question again, your legs swinging over the edge of your bed.

Pavitr groans, and trudges over to your bed, plopping down and burying his face into the pillows and cushions.

Oh. So that's what was wrong.

"Sweetheart." You coo gently, turning so you could put your hand on his shoulder. The poor guy looked so bummed.

"Is this about your dimples?"

He makes a full-body sigh in response.

Pavitr took great pride in his appearance, and you simply couldn't fathom why he would feel self-conscious about dimples of all things.

They were adorable! Like the dimples in his cheeks when he smiled! Didn't he know that? You certainly told him he was handsome and cute often enough...

"Pavitr...."

You lean forward and kiss his shoulder.

"Seriously, they're adorable." You murmur as you ghost your sweet kisses across his shoulders.

You could feel him tense up at that, but otherwise he didn't move.

You frowned.

Okay, fine. He wouldn't acknowledge it? You're just gonna have to show him yourself!

You lift one of your legs up and straddle the backs of his thighs, locking yours around them so he couldn't squirm free (like you knew he was gonna do) and started kissing your way down his back, all the way to the dimples he seemed so disappointed with.

You splayed your fingers across his shoulders as you kiss your way back up.

"Babe..." He groans, squirming (of course) to try and wiggle free from you and your onslaught of affection.

"Nuh-uh. You're gorgeous and cute and I'm gonna make sure you know it." You say softly against his skin, as you keep kissing him.

You really can't suppress the smirk on your lips when he shudders and his breath hitched just ever so slightly.

"I'm just--"

"Just what?" You hum, kissing your way back up his spine again.

"Cute? Handsome? Adorable? Sweet?"

"Er..."

You place warmer kisses on his shoulder before laying your full weight on his back; your hands slowly sliding up the length of his arms before you lace your fingers through his own.

You kiss at his jawline, just below his ear and purr playfully, your lips brushing the shell of his ear.

"Am I gonna have to show you another way?"

You grin like the Cheshire cat when you hear his breath stutter.

[yikesharringrove]

ed steve being ghosted by billy and assuming it's bc of his body or weight

tw: eating disorder (anorexia) btw this is angst with happy ending

"So, um, yeah. Just call me back if you want to do something tomorrow night."

Steve hung up the phone, wiping his sweaty palm on the leg of his jeans.

He had had plans with Billy last night. Plans that, when Steve texted to confirm, never actually happened.

He had texted to see if Billy wanted to do something tonight.

No response.

Texted to say that he was free all weekend if Billy was available.

No response.

So, the phone call was his last-ditch effort.

He called Billy, said it's okay if he's too busy, but they could hang out tomorrow night. Steve's parents would be gone.

Usually, the promise of sex had Billy chomping at the bit to spend some time with Steve. Even if they weren't together they were mostly dating. Their hangouts didn't feel all that platonic, especially when they ended with serious make-out sessions, or with Billy spending the night in Steve's bed.

He bit at his nails, tossing his phone down on the bed next to him, flopping back to lie down.

He was trying not to overthink.

Billy is probably just busy. He's on the basketball team, and he's on the fucking Model U.N., and that stupid club (that Steve doesn't understand) eats up time like nothing else.

The bitchy voice in his head tells him that he's just too busy for Steve.

He's probably bored of him, anyway.

Steve really only has a handful of interesting things to say, and he tells the same stories again and again.

Plus, he's kinda gross.

He used to be good-looking, back when he was on the swim team and working out for hours every day.

He's not muscular anymore, he hasn't been in a while.

Once he quit sports, he was toeing the line of fat, and at least he isn't that anymore.

Well, he still is. Toeing the line, that is.

He's constantly trying not to put on more weight.

It's hard, when it seems that everything he eats goes right to his tummy, or his back, or his stupid stupid thighs.

He's been trying to keep everything under control.

He only eats once a day, if that, and he's been trying to skip when he can. He's been on an every-other-day eating streak for the past few days, and he's thinking, if Billy is so utterly disgusted by him, that he won't even respond, maybe he needs to widen that gap. See if he can go two days between.

The weight should stay off, and maybe, once he finally gets thin enough, maybe he can try again with Billy.

Once he's not quite so big, maybe he'll even let Billy fuck him with the lights on.

Or, maybe, Billy is simply done with him.

He's sick of Steve and his gross, ugly body, and ghosting him is the easiest way to do it. He doesn't have to even have to see Steve again. He can just go away and never have to look at him-

The window rattled, and Billy tumbled in unceremoniously, leaves in his hair and a cut on his cheek.

He grinned at Steve from the floor.

"Hey, Stevie."

"Billy, shit. What are you doing here?"

Steve sat up quickly, yanking the blanket over his legs, not wanting Billy to see him in such short shorts.

"My dad took my fucking phone. Something about breaking curfew, and I was super grounded last night, so I missed our date. He's fucking passed out by now, so, I thought I'd ninja my way in here."

He stood up, shaking the leaves out of his hair and dusting off his jeans.

Steve was still more than a little bit caught up on the missed our date part of what he'd said.

"Sorry? Date?"

Billy stared at him.

"Don't tell me you forgot. We were supposed to go to a movie yesterday."

"Yeah, I remember. I guess I just. I didn't know it was a date?"

And Billy, bless those big blue eyes of his, just kept staring at Steve.

And Steve was starting to feel a little squeamish about how much he was looking at him.

"Why wouldn't it be? I mean, did I just climb up that fucking stupid tree just to have you dump me, because that really-"

"No!" Steve said, wincing at how loud his voice was. "I just, I thought we were friends."

And then Billy's face went bright fucking red, and he looked down at his boots, probably getting dirt and mud on Steve's bedroom floor.

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry. I guess I misread, I mean. I'm sorry-"

Steve decided he'd have to throw caution to the wind here.

He tried to ignore the sight of his own legs, walking up to stand nearly toe-to-toe with Billy.

"I didn't think you liked me like that."

Billy looked back up at him, making quick eye contact before looking away again.

"I know what people say about me, but I don't just sleep with anyone."

"No, I mean I didn't think you liked me like that. I didn't think I was." Steve stopped himself. Now it was his turn to look away.

"What? Didn't think you were what?"

"Good enough," Steve breathed between them. "I'm not. You can do better."

Billy didn't say anything, and for one terrible moment, Steve thought he was going to agree. He was going to agree and leave the way he climbed in.

"Nah. Nothin' better than you."

Billy kissed him tenderly, and holy shit, how had Steve thought they were friends this whole time? Maybe he's a fucking idiot too-

"Stop thinking. Just let me kiss you, Baby."

It was easy to stop thinking while Billy kissed him. Because Billy kissed him like he was special.

Billy kissed Steve the same way Steve kissed Billy.

Like he loves him.

[araminthe]

Tuesday, 6th of August / Mardi 6 août 2024

Yesterday, I forgot to write about my day so I'm doing it now.

So, since I was working until late, (because I'm always more focused at night), I slept late, so I woke up at 11 something and was still so damn tired.

That day, I was supposed to go karting because I had 12 tickets from a year ago that were expired very soon (it would have been more than a 100€ wasted)

So I had to vacuum the house before going out, it made me sweat like crazy and I ran out of deodorant and I don't even have time for a quick shower before going out, so I'm scared of smelling very bad, plus I'm tired so it very much makes me angry (but I think it was more stress than something else, since I was supposed to also organise it so I go with my cousins, but social pressure makes me ughhhhh)

Anyway, my cousins in the end were busy so they were not coming, at least I have this pressure off my shoulders. I dont know why but having to organise something with so many people put so much pressure on me.

So it was just me and my 4 sibling (yes you heard that right, and yes I am actually the oldest sibling, help). And my mother.

Glad she also came, I could not for the life of me keep all those dangerous sibling under control without going crazy.

At least, I have a brother my age, but the 3 left are young children.

So anyway, we go and have to walk a lot because for an unknown reason the bus doesnt go until the karting place.

We arrive, we share the tickets, there are 6 tickets for children so they take 2 each.

And 6 for adults so we take 3 each me and my bro.

It was fun. I rode the kart like crazy, it was on concrete, outside, so it equals mode adrenaline. There were lots of turns/curves and the goal was to do a lap as quickly as possible.

Each time I rode, I was getting used to the kart so I was going faster. I once tried to see how fast I could go during a turn but I messed up and when I was turning, I got straight into the foam barriers at my right. The hit was so powerful I moved the barriers, I hoped no one payed attention because I felt like a guilty bisch.(You know this feeling when you're a child and you feel like you're going to get grounded bcs you messed up and you feel very guilty? It's a feeling that stayed, I'm scared of autority, or people coming and telling me I did bad ಥ_ಥ )

Anyway, I made sure to quickly move on and not overthink. Another time, it was at the start of the 2nd race, I did not expect the kart to turn this easily, so by turning right I did a 180° turn, I was turned on the opposite direction of the race, so I quickly turned, got back on track and carried on.

Then, during the 3rd race, I made my worst mistake. So a bit of context; There was a girl (prob around 20y old) during the race she was going very slowly meanwhile everyone else was fast, it's not a problem, maybe she's scared or it's her first time, it happens, she has her reasons.

But, I once happened to be riding near my brother, so I started I to race him to go past him and win, but it was right when we were approaching to where the girl was. Just so you know, the road is broad enough for 2 karts to pass, not 3, and even for two you have to be careful. So my brother sees her in front and starts to slow, but I don't, I'm behind my brother, their cars are next to one another, I don't have enough time to slow down so I just completely ran into them.

I so powerfully hit my brother who in turn hit the girl. I swear I'm sorry and did not do that in purpose. My kart kept going but it made my brother's kart do a 180° turn, same for the girl.

So I slow down again, look behind, their cars are turned the wrong direction, I thought for a second I saw smoke for my bro's kart, (fortunately it was gravel that had been kicked up by the wheels). So they just go back on track and I hope the girl's not traumatized by the impact or the hit. I would have apoligized, but the thing is, when you're riding you can't talk or be heard because you're wearing a hood, and on top of that a thick helmet.

So I just resumed my ride, and at the end of it, as soon as my brother and I get out of the cart we have to go home, (my dad had to take my bro to an appointment, so my dad told us to come quickly and drove us away).

I'm sorry for the girl, my brother said, since he was right next to the girl, he for a sec thought I had broke her neck or something 💀💀.

He's probably exagerating to mess with me, but nah I feel sorry. My bad.

If girl you ever happen to have gone karting Tuesday 6, and ever happen to read that, know that I'm sorry. I hope you're alright.

So after that, I go home at 7pm

Had to do a few things (again...please let me rest). I was sooo tired, the whole day I didn't even have the energy to talk or be excited for the karting, yeah it was fun, but only in my head because I was physically exhausted, I had also eaten only a little so imagine my exhaustion.

WHEN I FINALLY GOT TO RETIRE FROM MY FAMILY, it was 10.30pm, and didn't even make my bed or put on pj's, I just took my pillow and blanket and slept on top of all the things on my bed.

At night, I woke up at 1am and had a hard time going back to sleep. Y'know what's strange? Usually, I am a big sleeper, I always fall asleep super fast and I don't wake up at all at night, but lately I have been having a hard time with waking up at night and not being able to go back to sleep. Why could that be? Am I becoming kinda insomniac, or is my sleep schedule just really messed up?

Well, in conclusion I had a really fun day, 2nd time of my life I go karting, but the only downside was my anxiousness and tiredness. My lil'siblings also rode with children like themselves, (for children they have slower karts), it was the first time for the youngest, so they were all happy and ultra hyped up. (That's a W for oldest daughter, I'm glad I could make them happy).

Another funny thing, during the ride, to go and come back from the karting, I was revising the "code de la route", in english I think it's the highway code or smthg like that. Before learning to ride, you first have to pass this exam. And here I am, causing accident on the road (at least it was with a kart and not a car, obviously I will not ride like that with a car, I don't have homicide on my mind).

So welp, at least I'm not scared of going fast (not sure if this experience is relevant for riding a true car, but it's better than nothing? )

╮(￣ω￣;)╭

(I know no one reads what I write and that no one will read all that, but personally I love listening to others life and experiences, so maybe if I keep doing that I will find people like me, and also, I just need someone to tell about my life without feeling like I'm throwing all my life on them.)

Bye, à plus amis invisibles.