#make him happy. i can’t bear to keep it etc

[sleepingdeath-light]

relationship hcs ; choso kamo

requested by ; anonymous (13/09/24)

fandom(s) ; jujutsu kaisen

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; choso kamo

outline ; “Can I request sfw dating headcanons for (Jujutsu Kaisen) Choso with gn s/o please?”

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

choso may be pretty new to the whole ‘being a human’ thing, but that fact hasn’t stopped him from doing everything he can to be the best mentor, brother, friend, and boyfriend that he possibly can be — even if he can be a bit awkward and clumsy about how he approaches each of those roles sometimes

he resonates pretty strongly with all of the main love languages and makes frequent use of them all throughout your relationship — though he will lean more heavily into those that you tell him are more meaningful to you (because, in his mind, that’s what a good boyfriend ought to do)

acts of service — he lives to take care of his loved ones (you and his brothers) so it almost goes without saying that he goes out of his way to take care of you whenever he can… which usually just means him doing any and everything he can to protect you from harm (not because he doesn’t think you’re capable of keeping yourself safe, but just because he can’t bear the thought of you getting hurt in any way)

and if you return the favour by doting on him and his brothers — making sure they’re all eating by preparing extra helpings of food, checking them both over after missions to make sure they’re not brushing over any injuries, bringing them water after sparring sessions, offering a helping hand when either of them get sick, etc. — then choso will just fall even deeper in love with you and won’t quite know what to do with himself

gift giving — he brings things home from missions and trips with his brother that make him think of you — either because the object in question is explicitly related to something you’ve mentioned liking/that he’s noticed that you like, or because it just reminded him of you for some reason — and while this usually entails bought things (like jewellery or clothing or food or merch) this can sometimes mean him just picking up a pretty flower or a neat rock and bringing it back to you (usually with yuuji’s encouragement, because duh)

and for his own part he adores and keeps everything you gift to him for as long as possible (unless it’s something perishable, like flowers, or made to be consumed)

physical touch — he may not be accustomed to gentle touches and physical affection, having spent most of his life before you either wholly isolated or surrounded by violence, but once you introduce him to it he becomes almost addicted to it. he can’t get enough of your kisses, your hugs, the way you hold him like he’s something precious, and if you don’t stop him he could easily spend the whole day curled up in your arms, nuzzling your neck and basking in your affection without ever growing tired of it

quality time — it’s important for him that he gets to spend plenty of bonding time with all of his loved ones, both independently (e.g. going on dates with you and going to the cinema with yuuji) and all together (he just wants the most important people in his life to get along…) — though as his partner he does naturally tend to spend more alone time with you and is happy to go along with whatever you have planned. after all, as long as choso gets to be with you he couldn’t care less about what you’re actually doing

words of affirmation — he’s not the most talkative person on the planet but choso rarely ever minces his words and tends to say what he means, and that means whenever he compliments or praises you that he’s being completely genuine about it

… and, likewise, on the days where he’s feeling low or less-than it helps a great deal to have you there to soothe him and wash his worries away by assuring him that he’s loved, that he’s human, and that he’s a wonderful brother (yes, even if yuuji is annoyed with him right now)

aside from the lips, obviously, his favourite places to be kissed are his hands and his cheeks — and his favourite places to kiss you are your forehead and wrists

loves it when you play with his hair while you’re cuddling and will get all cute and pouty when you stop and/or start (lovingly) teasing him about it

thinks pet names like ‘sweetheart’ and ‘baby’ and ‘love’ are cute and endearing in their own way, but nothing melts his heart quite like you straight up calling him ‘boyfriend’ (or whatever title he has at the time, e.g. ‘fiancé’ or ‘husband’)

he goes to the other teachers — and even sometimes to the students — for relationship advice a lot during the earlier stages of your courtship and applies all of what he’s told to… well… varying degrees of success

he’s very vocal and open about his support for you in just about everything you do: he does his own research, listens intently to what you have to say, shows up for you physically and monetarily, and never misses the things that are important to you unless it’s literally a life or death situation (and even then he feels terrible)

his lockscreen is a picture of you and yuuji smiling after you both took his brother to see a rerun of his favourite film in the cinema, and his homescreen is a photo of you and him on a date from super early in your relationship that you took and sent to him (and that he’s had as his homescreen ever since)

hates hearing you talk negatively about yourself and will do whatever he can to help you see yourself as he does

frets so much when you’re sent on missions without him (if you’re a sorcerer) and always tries to be the first one to check in one you when you get back — or, failing that, he’ll send in his brother on his behalf just to make sure you’re alright

[twolovelyberries]

there’s a deal that i made….

[alisonsfics]

take care of you

pairing: carmy berzatto x reader

summary: carmy obviously cares about the wellbeing of everybody who works at the bear, but it’s different with you. everyone realizes how crazy he is about you when almost loses his mind when you cut your hand.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: mentions of blood, stitches, and needles, but not too graphic

“Everybody still good and focused?” Carmy called out to the kitchen. “Yes, chef,” the room echoed. The Bear was doing a test run for a special event. And a brand new menu always meant chaos at the Bear.

You were chopping away at vegetables, continuously looking up at the clock to stay on time.

You glanced up to check the time and got distracted by Richie bumping a container onto the floor. Only looking away for a second, the knife in your hand slipped and cut the palm of your hand.

“Oh, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” you mumbled to yourself, in instant pain. Carmy heard you swearing over his shoulder and glanced over at you. First, he saw your face and could tell you were in pain. Then, he caught a glimpse of the red that was spreading on your hand. “Ow, fuck. Carmy?” You called out, having no idea that he had already noticed.

“Oh, shit,” he said, immediately turning off the stove and abandoning his station. He raced to your side, grabbing a towel and quickly wrapping it around your hand.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he assured you. He grabbed your arm and started guiding you towards the big sink. “Out of the way, please. Give us some space, guys,” Carmy said, urgently.

He removed the towel from your hand. He turned on the water and stuck your hand under it. “Syd, I need the first aid kit quickly, please.” He called out. You saw Sydney quickly run towards the office.

Carmy noticed that you’d started breathing faster. “Hey hey hey, look at me. Don’t look at that. Just focus on me,” he said, noticing how frantic you looked. He knew that you were freaking out, and he could only calm you down if he remained relaxed.

“Carmy, it really fucking hurts.” You said, your voice cracking and tears welling up in your eyes. It almost broke Carmy to see you upset. He cared about you so much and hated seeing you in pain. “I know it does, but you’re doing great. You’re probably gonna need some stitches, but I’ll take you after we get this cleaned and bandaged up, okay?” He told you.

You nodded your head, trying to focus on Carmy and not the throbbing pain in your hand. “Don’t worry. Just take some deep breathes, okay? We can’t have you passing out.” He instructed you. You started taking deep breaths, but you were still wincing in pain.

Carmy noticed the way your whole face tensed up. He grabbed your other hand and placed it on his forearm. “Go ahead. You can hold onto me and squeeze my arm if you need to. I’ve got ya,” he assured you. You felt calmer in Carmy’s presence.

Sydney returned with the first aid kit. Carmy quickly flipped it open and grabbed the supplies he needed. “I have to clean this before I bandage it. It might hurt a little, but just keep squeezin’ my arm.” He told you, grabbing some wipes.

You winced as he wiped your hand. “Tell me about that book you were reading this morning.” Carmy suggested, trying to get your mind off the pain. You started talking to him, and you were much less focused on how much the wipes stung.

After, he bandaged your hand up, making sure it was secure. “Is your coat in your locker? I’ll go grab it.” He said, going over to your locker and grabbing your coat and bag for you.

“Just keep your hand still. I can do this.” He said, carefully slipping your coat over one arm and then the other. He threw your backpack over his shoulder because it had all your important things in it, like your phone, wallet, etc.

“You don’t have to carry that. I can do it.” You protested. Carmy shook his head. He wasn’t going to let you lift a finger. “Let me take care of you.” He said, smiling at you. He looked genuinely happy to be able to take care of you.

He rested his hand on the small of your back. Richie tossed Carmy his car keys, and Carmy guided you back towards the parking lot. Carmy ran ahead of you, opening your car door for you.

“Thank you, Carmy,” you said, smiling at him as you carefully got into the car. Before you could reach for the seatbelt, Carmy stopped you. “I got it.” He said, grabbing your seatbelt and clicking it into place.

He put your backpack into the back seat, and then got in the car. He quickly started the car and started to drive towards the hospital.

“You still doing okay?” He asked after a few minute, looking over at you with a concerned expression. You quickly nodded your head. “You’re doing so great.” He said, smiling at you and reaching over to hold your free hand.

“Thank you for driving me and taking care of me back there.” You thanked him, sincerely. He looked over at you with a pure smile, giving your hand a quick squeeze. “Of course. I’m always here for you. No matter what you need,” he told you. You felt so grateful to have Carmy watch your back. There was nothing Carmy would rather do more.

Once you got to the hospital, Carmy helped you out of the car and brought you inside. There was a long line to check in, so you both stood waiting. “This fucking sucks, Carmy.” You said, resting your head on his shoulder.

He chuckled at your impatience. “I know. It shouldn’t be that much longer. When we get out of here, I’ll bring you to the new ice cream place I was telling you about.” He told you, rubbing your back.

He watched how fast your expression changed once he mentioned ice cream. “I mean, I do think I deserve a treat after this.” You joked, making Carmy laugh.

You both finally got to the front of the line and checked in. The front desk worker handed you a clipboard with forms on it. “Just fill this out for us. Since that’s the hand you write with, your boyfriend can fill these out for you.” They told you, handing the clipboard to Carmy.

You froze for a second, trying to process what they meant. “Thank you,” Carmy said quickly, after noticing your surprise. He put his hand back on your back and guided you towards a chair to sit down in.

Carmy started filling out the forms for you with the information that he knew. “You seemed pretty offended they thought I was your boyfriend.” Carmy teased, smirking at you.

“I was just surprised. I’m sure you’d be a great boyfriend.” You said, trying to pretend like your heart hadn’t skipped a beat when you heard the word boyfriend. You’d had a not-so-subtle crush on Carmy for a while. You were genuinely surprised he hadn’t noticed yet.

You both sat in the waiting room for a while. Carmy kept texting everyone at the Bear and updating them. Then, he played silly brain games with you to keep you distracted from the pain.

Finally, a nurse brought you back to a room. “Somebody should be right in here to get you stitched up.” The nurse told you and left.

“You ever had stitches before?” Carmy asked you.

“I think I’ll seem more mysterious to you if I refuse to tell you.” You teased him. At this point, you both were pretty tired and therefore, getting pretty giggly. “Oh, you’re going for mysterious now?” He asked you, chuckling.

You nodded your head, trying to hide your smile. “Has that not been coming across?” You joked.

The door flung open. “Hi, I’m Claire. I’m gonna be your— oh…hey, you guys,” you both were met with a stunned Claire standing in the doorway. You could almost hear the way that Carmy was mentally cursing himself.

“Oh hey, Claire,” you said, dragging out the words. Getting stitched up by your crush and boss’ ex-girlfriend was not how you thought you’d be spending your night.

She turned away from you both and set down her laptop on the counter. You glanced over at Carmy, trying to read his expression. “It’s fine,” he mouthed to you, giving you a fake smile.

Carmy sat down in the chair beside you, focusing all his attention on you and not Claire. She sat down on her stool and rolled towards you, putting on her gloves. “How’ve you been, Carm?” She asked, nervously looking at him.

He sheepishly nodded. “Yeah…I’ve been good.” He quickly replied.

You all were very aware of how awkward the situation was, so you all opted for silence. “You did a great job bandaging this up.” Claire told you, as she unwrapped all the gauze.

Your gaze met Carmy’s. He waited for you to correct her and tell her he did it. You smirked at him, letting him know you weren’t going to say a word. He jokingly made an offended face.

Claire missed the completely nonverbal conversation between the two of you.

She started cleaning your hand, and you winced. Carmy quickly grabbed your other hand and let you squeeze his hand. “Sorry, that might sting a little.” Claire apologized.

Once she got to the actual stitches, you were in lots of pain. You tried to distract yourself. You looked around the room. You noticed the small lingering glances where Claire would look at Carmy. But his eyes never strayed from you.

“Oh, fuck,” you swore under your breath as you felt a sharp pain. A tear rolled down your cheek. “It’s okay, you’re okay. You’re doing so good.” Carmy quickly praised you, kissing the back of your hand and wiping the tears off your cheek.

Claire stalled for a second. She realized that this was more than just a boss bringing one of his employees to the E.R. She noticed the way Carmy jumped to comfort you.

“I didn’t know that you guys were together.” Claire said. Carmy didn’t make any move to correct her. “No no, we’re not.” You said.

“Doing it again? It really sounds like you’re offended at the idea of being my girlfriend?” Carmy whispered to you, teasing you. You rolled your eyes at his teasing.

After Claire finished your stitches, she practically ran out of the room, not being able to handle the awkwardness anymore.

“The stitches are definitely helping with the mysterious vibe. It suits you.” Carmy smirked at you.

“I know. I’m really boosting your street cred by letting you hang out with me.” You returned the teasing. You felt more butterflies every time Carmy laughed at one of your jokes.

“So, you still want to stop and get a little treat on the way home?” He asked, picking up your coat for you.

“I think I have a better idea for a treat.” You said. You used your one hand to cup Carmy’s face and pull him closer to you. You closed the distance and kissed him. He quickly kissed you back. Your coat fell out of his hands and as he rushed to wrap his arms around your waist.

You could feel Carmy smile against your lips. “Quit smiling and kiss me, Berzatto.” You teased him, earning a chuckle from Carmy as he leaned back in.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @lillyssh-tposts @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @guacam011y @sw33t-cupid @ice-dtae @leyannrae @sia2raw @nyx2021 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @shyconversationalbookworm @shadowhuntyi @visenyaverse @ruzannetheseahorse @superdeath @wandaswifeyforlifey @spookyqueen @mcuswhore @bookwormchick91 @princess-evans-addict @n3ssm0nique @peakascum @cjand10 @namsey1987 @supernaturalstilinski @stephv213 @warriormirkwood @one-sweet-gubler @narliesstuff @bibissparkles @stupiidfrogs @navs-bhat @mattsfavbigtitties @the-sylver-dragon @0-n-1-x

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

[catcze]

「 ### : 」 Modern AU ish !! Reader’s weight/size/etc. is not mentioned !! Imo Wrio is strong as fuck, so it literally doesn’t matter how much you weigh because this mf will have you sit on his back while he does push ups and will come out invigorated and wanting to do like 20 more, but this is a warning just in case it breaks your immersion !!

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

Wriothesley wraps his arms around your middle, tugging you in close so you’re pressed up against his chest. You fight back the urge to melt into his warmth and give in to his ridiculous request. The cheeky smile he wears —undoubtedly aware of the effect he has on you— makes you grit your teeth and steel yourself out of pure spite.

“Sweetheart,” he coos, honey sweet and trying to be convincing.

“Wriothesley. No.”

“Sweetheart, baby,” he tries again, leaning to murmur it in your ear— the unfair, cheating shit. You’re not sure if you want to punch him or kiss his stupid face. “Love of my life. Person I’m gonna marry. Apple of my eye. Snookums—“

“Shut your mouth.” But he does not, and you’re on the verge of strangling him.

“Honey. Pookie bear.“ He grins, holding you tighter so you’re subject to listening to all the stupid ass nicknames he can call you. “My little discord kitten—“

At the sheer cringe and secondhand embarrassment, you slap a hand over his mouth with a grimace. It works, kind of. Wriothesley’s barrage of nicknames is silenced, but you can practically feel his smirk against your palm. You’re painfully aware of the firm but gentle hold he still keeps on you— painfully aware of how you’re probably fighting a losing battle when he’s this dead set on something.

“I am not going to sit on your back while you do push ups,” you say, and that smirk melts into a pouty little frown. “I already told you it’s dangerous. You could get hurt or something.”

He pulls your hand off his mouth by the wrist, expression looking less-than-pleased. “Sweetheart, if you think that I can’t lift you, then I must be doing something terribly, terribly wrong.”

“But if you’re worried about me, then how about this—“ he presses your hand to his cheek, holding it there with his own so he can lean into your touch and peck a quick kiss to your palm. “You sit on my back while I do my routine, but if you ever think that I’m pushing myself or I’m getting tired, then you can hop off and go back to what you were doing, okay?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, but in the end you’re weak to him when he’s this sweet to you, and all you can do is sigh a small, ‘fine.’ If it makes him happy, then why the hell not—

And later, with Wriothesley in that unfairly flattering black compression shirt and you sat on his back, you absolutely eat your words. You can only sit in silent shock and hardly hidden appreciation when the man goes through more than half of the reps for his first set.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, watching in astonishment how he easily pushes up with your combined weight, not a single muscle trembling in overexertion. He’s not at all rushed, taking his time with each upwards lift so as to not jostle you. Wriothesley can hear the awe in your voice, and has the audacity to chuckle. He’s not even breathless.

“What did I say, sweetheart?” He sounds smug, proud— undoubtedly delighted to be able to show off in front of you. Like a puppy who was told he did a good job. You kind of want to kiss him. “So, want to help me out tomorrow, too?”

[verizzafai]

Just to ask. If King Shadow and Jester Sonic was in the sonic verse—what would King Arthur and Sir Lancelot think of them?

Hmm dynamics dynamics dynamics… (Also Sonic Verse part update at the bottom!)

Bell = Jester Sonic

King = King Shadow

Changes “Bells” just to “Bell” because I kept reading “balls” LMFAO)

Bell and Sir Lancelot

- Bell absolutely adores Lance. He’s just like King, but without the bite. When Lancelot isn’t trailing behind Arthur, it’s likely you would find Bell trying to make him crack a smile or laugh. Doing tricks or re-counting stories. Lancelot thinks Jesters in general aren’t required for a kingdom to function, but he doesn’t mind the presence of Bell and secretly finds him a bit amusing.

Bell and King Arthur

- King Arthur is glad to finally have a pair that understands them, at least on a worldly level. While Bell and King are from a different, much more fantasy like world, they talk similarly which is nice. Arthur even laughs at his jokes and feels comfortable leaving Bell with Lance when he’s off to talk with the others. Bell also really admires and respects Arthur, especially since he and Lance clap at the end of his performances.

King and King Arthur

- King and Arthur have a mostly diplomatic relatonship. They treat each other the way they would treat the kings of their worlds. But King is definitely more hostile, a tug during a too tight handshake to try and throw Arthur off balance would be common. But even if King towers over Arthur, he isn’t intimidated so easily. King of course sees this as a challenge, so he continues to subtly disrespect him at every opportunity.

King and Sir Lancelot

- King would ignore most of the Shadows, seeing them as lesser to himself. But this would certainly be ten folded with Lancelot. Even if Lancelot ranks high in Arthur’s personal court, King still sees him as someone subservient, aka not worth his time. Lancelot extremely dislikes King for the way he treats both Arthur and Bell. While he tries to remain diplomatic, even he can’t help the occasional glare and snide remark.

Bell and King

- Okay, this is where it gets a little messy. Bell and King are pretty toxic so you’re going to have to bear with me here. (We have too many happy couples guys) Bell has been working in the kingdom since both he and King were kids. When King took over after Black Doom, he kept Bell around to amuse him, sending away the other jesters who worked alongside him. Bell does his best to keep a smile on his face, he is really good at repressing his emotions and acting positive. They have a very strong power imbalance, even if Bell is allowed to poke a little fun at the King. And King isn’t against using it. While not totally abusive, it would deifneltey toe the line.

However, in the Sonic Verse, King would very quickly get a reality check that he can’t treat Bell the way he would back home with most of the Sonic’s, and even a few Shadows, stepping in to cement that it doesn’t work that way here. I’d have to be very sensitive in the way I handle such a topic and do more research on it before I truly wrote anything for them.

Maybe after Sonic Verse is finished, there would be a second one where I could include more Sonadow pairs. (Pirate Sonic and Shadow, Zonic and Zhadow, Their gay animal print outfits, Archie Versions, STC/Fleetway, etc) but maybe more as a universe jumping adventure!

This makes me want to draw them all now… guys please

Also no Sonic Verse part today or tommorow, maybe expect the next one either Sunday or Monday. I’ve been a little nervous to post these next parts since we’re finishing up our first arc 🥹

[johnnysuhbmarine]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘People like me’ as in?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You furrow your brows. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was here first, you dick.”

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, I tried.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re immediately up off the couch, though you’re still frozen in your spot a few feet away from him. “You’re scaring me. What’s wrong?” You ask, trying to make your voice sound calmer than you felt in an attempt to get at least some control of the situation.

Haechan shakes his head. “No, you’re right. I shouldn’t have barged in. I shouldn’t be here.” He states, turning around to walk right back out of the door. He’s stopped though, by your firm tone.

“Lee Donghyuck, what is wrong?” This time, your question comes out more as a demand, and it’s enough to make Haechan freeze in his spot, dropping his hand that was reaching for the door knob. 

“My dad got in a car accident. He didn’t even make it through the ambulance ride.” He says, his words cut up by his cries. Your world stops, and you just stare at him. You were already really bad at comforting people, and this was the last thing you were expecting to hear, not to mention the last person you expected to be confiding in you.

“Hyuck…” You begin, but all you can do is fumble for words you know won’t come. Haechan gives you the pleasure of cutting you off.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” He replies, now fully crying again as he brings his hands up to cover his face. His sobs only silence for a second as he registers your touch. He brings his hands down to actually get visual confirmation that you were hugging him. You were standing in your living room and hugging your worst enemy, but you couldn’t just do nothing anymore. Your face pressed into his chest, you mumble out the best response you can muster.

“Here is just fine. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, and I’m sorry Jessica isn’t home to be the one to comfort you. I’m sorry it’s me, instead. I know you probably have other friends but…I’m watching Bones if you want to join. We can watch, like, an entire season if you want, and I’ll order your favorite food. If you want. I just- don’t really want you alone right now, and I’m scared that if I kick you out, you won’t ever find your way back out of your bedroom.”

At your words, Haechan seems to settle a bit more into the hug, using one sleeve of his hoodie to dry up his tears before replying. “Bones sounds good. What season are you on?”

You pick your head back out of his chest, staring up at him with a weak smile, hoping it conveyed just how grateful you were that he accepted your offer. “Just started season four. Come on.” 

You let go from the hug and motion for Haechan to find a place on the couch while you headed for the kitchen. While Haechan had been over more than you would have ever liked, your constant avoidance of him meant you had no clue what he actually liked. Instead, you stared at the open pantry with a frown before deciding to just grab all of your favorite snacks to share in hopes that he, too, enjoyed at least one of them. 

You place them all down on the coffee table in front of the couch, but suddenly you feel too awkward to say anything. So, you just make hesitant eye contact with Haechan for a second or two before he breaks away to actually look at everything you brought over. Though, because you’re still staring, you manage to catch the faint “thank you” that left his lips as he reached for a bag of chips. Despite yourself, the corners of your mouth perk up in a soft smile as you finally move to sit down next to him on the couch…a few feet away, but next to him.

It would have been completely quiet had the show not been on. Apparently you and Haechan were still really bad at being even acquaintances. Though, with the introduction of a new character, you quickly found your in.

“God, she’s had like, two minutes of screen time and I already hate Agent Perotta.” You say with a slight laugh, trying not to let it show how nervous you were to talk to him. Instead of glaring at you or pretending your input was the last thing he needed, though, he nodded a bit, smiling.

“Thank God you said it, because I hate her, too, but as a man I feel like saying it out of the blue would be distasteful.” He replies, and before you could stop it, you let out a heavy exhale of laughter. Immediately, your hand reaches up to cover your face, but Haechan had already whipped his head towards you. “Did you just find me funny?” He questions, the smile on his face growing.

You quickly shake your head, though your face wears a matching smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This conversation is about Agent Perotta.” You say, looking back at the TV.

Haechan flashes his eyebrows up for a moment before redirecting his attention back to the show as well. “Yeah, I hate that bitch.” He says flatly, getting you to nod.

“I think this is the first thing we’ve ever agreed on.” You say, letting the shock factor show in your voice.

Haechan shakes his head, smiling in disbelief. “Should’ve known it was going to be about hating someone. Pretty sure you hate everyone except Jessica. I mean, what are we at now?” He teases, beginning to count them off on his fingers. “Me, Agent Perotta, your neighbor on the right, your professor who makes sexual comments about you…”

Immediately you jump up from the couch, staring at him with the widest of eyes. “WHAT?! How do you know about that?”

You watch as Haechan just shakes his head quickly, as if his previous statement would erase like an etch-a-sketch. “Oh, sorry. He’s on my list of people I hate. Mixed them up.” He replies like it’s nothing, and you don’t know how he’s being so nonchalant about this.

“Hyuck, we don’t share that class, how do you know about that professor? I haven’t even told Jessica.” You ask again, the panic beginning to seep through your words some more. You didn’t know how he knew, you didn’t know if he was going to tell Jessica, you didn’t know if it would change the way he viewed you, you didn’t know why Haechan’s view of you mattered because it was already shit anyways…all of it made you anxious. 

Haechan hangs his head back, staring up at you from where he still sat lazily on the couch. “Please don’t worry about it. Forget I said anything.” He responds, his orders strict but his voice calm. You just shake your head once more.

“Hyuck-” You start, but this time he rolls his eyes, finally getting fed up with the conversation.

“I just wanna watch Bones! Can we make this day about me again? Hello, I’m sad and in need of a light-hearted distraction in the form of crime-solving.” He says, his volume already much louder than it just previously was. Typically, his whining would just make you want to punch him, but he was right, at least a little bit. He was the one with the bigger stressor, and while it wasn’t a competition in the first place, you did want this to be a comforting time for him, not one where you grilled him over his knowledge of your personal life.

“Agh, you’re so difficult!” You shout back, though placing yourself down on the couch again anyways.

Haechan flashes a quick smile in response. “Great! You hate me, we hate Agent Perotta, we’re back on track. Press play.” He says, moving his arms out towards the TV in a showy fashion that you hated. Though, with Agent Perotta back on screen, it did bring up another truth.

“...I hate you less than I hate her.” You say quietly, but with your focus back on Bones, you miss Haechan’s smartass smirk falling into something softer in response. Then, Bones is the only sound to fill the dorm again.

A few hours and entirely too much takeout later, the front door opens again as Jessica walks through. 

“Hey y/n, I’m home-” She starts, locking the door, but then she finally turns around to the living room and her jaw drops. “Hyuck?!”

“Hey!” You reply as though nothing were amiss. Jessica looks back and forth between you and Haechan more times than you could count, her eyebrows furrowed.

“You two are hanging out??” She questions, and Haechan just shrugs.

“I had a bad day. Needed some comfort.” He replies neutrally, but Jessica’s eyes just grow wider.

“So you decided to hang out with y/n? Who you typically can’t stand to be in a room with for more than 0.5 seconds.”

You shake your head with a small laugh. “Jessica, he came over to see if you were here.” You say, stating the obvious. It doesn’t help Jessica’s shock.

“But when he saw it was just you, he stayed?” She asks, and you’re pretty sure you saw the mania start to set in behind her eyes.

“We’ve been watching Bones.” Haechan says with a smile.

Jessica shakes her head in disbelief. “And neither of you find this strange?”

“We hate Agent Perotta.” You reply with a smirk, and suddenly a wave of clarity washes over Jessica.

“Ah, common ground. Makes more sense.” She says calmly as she starts making her way to the couch as well. “Well, mind if I join-” She starts, but then Haechan’s phone begins to ring and he’s up off the couch in an instant.

“My mom is calling. I have to go.” He says, and the sadness and worry that you had managed to kill over the past few hours reappears in his voice in no time.

“Hyuck?” Jessica questions, but he just shakes his head in dismissal.

“I have to go.” He restates, and then makes his way to the door. You watch from the couch as he starts to leave, probably to go drive to meet his mom - this late at night…driving. Panic erupts in your system.

“Haechan,” you cry out, scrambling off the couch. He whips his body back around to face you rather than the door. Without thinking, you wrap Haechan in a hug, speaking softly into his shoulder. “Be safe, okay?” 

Haechan lets out a small sigh, knowing exactly where your mind was at. Gently, he places his arms around you, as well. “I hate you less than I hate her, too.” He says softly in place of replying to your last statement. You freeze in his arms and he’s the first to let go, his phone beginning to ring again and reminding the both of you he had somewhere to be. He’s quickly out the front door, leaving you to just turn back around towards Jessica on the couch. 

“What was that?” She asks, completely confused again. You just shake your head.

“It’s really not for me to tell you. Haechan just…got really bad news today. But you’re his actual best friend, he’ll tell you as soon as he can, I’m sure. Then you can take over my role and do a much better job at comforting him or so help me God.” You reply, a small laugh accompanying the end of your sentence before you continue. “I’m gonna go get ready for bed, if you don’t mind. I hope your date with Mark went really well.” Jessica just nods from the couch, a little dumbfounded by your behavior if you had to guess, but you couldn’t bring yourself to explain any further. 

Within the following week, Haechan had told Jessica about his dad. However, he also told her another piece of news, which Jessica immediately relayed to you once she got back from hanging out with him. 

“Hey, just thought I would let you know that Haechan and his girlfriend broke up.” She says after entering your dorm. You look up at her from the kitchen table, eyes wide.

“What?!” You question with more emotion than you could have imagined, but with the situation with his dad, was this really when she had to break it off and hurt him further. Jessica doesn’t answer your question, probably because it was incredibly vague. Instead, she moves on to her actual point of telling you.

“So, he might be over even more often than before.” She says carefully, trying to gauge how pissed you were gonna be at that piece of news. You just shake your head.

“Did he say why they broke up?” You don’t know why you asked, you didn’t care, but Jessica didn’t seem to think any of it was out of the ordinary.

“No, but he’s pretty torn up about it, which sucks because we both know how horrible she was to him.” Right, regardless of what horrible timing this was because of his already sad state, his girlfriend, or ex, probably wasn’t helping anyways while they were together. You figure Haechan dodged a bullet with the relationship ending sooner rather than later. You nod in response, speaking through a sigh as the past memories and stories about his ex replayed in your mind.

“Yeah…”

Jessica seems to be doing the same, but she shakes out of it quicker than you. “I think I’m gonna take him out to the bars next weekend or something. I don’t have a lot of free time right now, but I figure he could use a night out.” She says neutrally, and you nod, letting her know you probably couldn’t come up with a better idea.

“Yeah.”

Then two weeks later, you were telling Jessica to be safe as she left for the bars with Haechan. She extended the invite, but you figured Haechan probably had enough of you trying to support and comfort him, so you just told her that you’d stay home and to call if they needed a ride back. At one in the morning, that call came, but it was from Haechan rather than Jessica, and as you pick up, you forget the entire reason they went out tonight, your mind running on autopilot once you see his name light up your phone screen.

“What do you want?” You ask, your disgust at his call hardly hidden in your voice. You immediately feel bad though when he responds and his tone is much gentler than the one you used for him.

“Hey, Jess was the one who apparently needed to unwind tonight, so I let her do all the drinking at the bar…too much, apparently. I was gonna drive her back to your place but she was concerned about ruining whatever image she thinks you have of her in your head, so instead of her getting sick at your place, I let her get sick at mine. She just got in the shower, but I gotta be honest, now that I’m home, I’m pretty exhausted. Do you think you could come grab her?” He asks, and for a moment, you smile softly. You could tell Jessica had been stressed the past few weeks, truly probably needing the night out more than Haechan, and it was comforting knowing that he didn’t drink so that he could look out for her at the bar and back home. 

You nod your head before realizing he couldn’t see it, and then you speak up, much softer than before. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon. Send me your address.” You say, then hanging up and grabbing your things to head his way.

Haechan opens the door in response to your knocking, the familiar bored expression back on his face. “You got here quicker than I thought you would…Jessica is still in the shower.” He states, as though your early presence was a huge inconvenience. You don’t pay attention to his tone, though. Your mind focuses on his clothes as you unintentionally scan his body up and down.

“Skinny jeans, huh?” You question with a straight face, meeting his eyes again as he smirks down at you.

“Well, I knew there was a high probability I’d see you tonight so I thought it would be fun to torment you-” You don’t know what came over you, but surely it wasn’t your fault. You told him not to wear skinny jeans ever again, and he did so just to spite you. Somehow, it all made him really hot, and you find yourself cutting off his words as you press your lips to his. You pull away quickly, shock covering both your faces as you simply stare at each other, eyes wide and breath heavy as you process what you just did. 

You swallow hard, trying to remedy your suddenly dry throat. Your courage to look him in the eyes diminishes within milliseconds, and you drop your face towards the floor, which seemed to irritate Haechan to no end because as soon as your gaze met the floor, he walked the one step back over to you, grabbing your jaw to the point where it almost hurt and forcing you to look his way again. Then he kissed you harshly, and you fell right in line. 

There was no romance in the kiss. Instead, something like lust had your tongues fighting for dominance with each other as your hands tried to memorize every part of Haechan’s body. The two of you moved with intensity, stumbling around the room because you couldn’t possibly stay still with the amount of passion embedded in this kiss. The first time you remember breaking away wasn’t so you could take a breath. You were fine never needing oxygen again. Instead you broke away to pull his shirt up over his head, discarding it to the side without much care. You immediately press your lips back onto his, but he’s quick to pull back this time, looking at you with a shake of his head as his eyes move back and forth between your two bodies.

“No fair!” He complains, causing you to roll your eyes before removing your own shirt to reveal your black lace bra because the universe was apparently on your side when you got dressed today. You watch his adam’s apple bob up and down as he takes you in, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. “No fair…” He whispers before rushing to close the distance between you two again, but this time, his lips don’t land on yours. Instead, they find your chest as his hands squeeze at your waist. You throw your head back in response, giving Haechan the ability to leave a trail of kisses from your chest up your neck, stopping in the middle to nip at somewhere near your collarbone before his continued exploration, and you thank God that Jessica has the shower running to cover up the moan it produced from you. He kisses up your neck and jaw before eventually finding his way to your lips again, and you waste no time getting your tongue back in his mouth. Before you know it, he’s picking you up, just to throw you right back down on the couch. Your eyes open in surprise, but then the sight of him on top of you has you unable to function. For some godforsaken reason, he’s able to read you completely, chuckling as he looks at your breathless expression. 

The sound of his laugh gets you to break out of it, and you rush to connect your lips with his again. Your hands trace up and down his bare back, your nails sending goosebumps to his entire body as they claw at certain spots. Your hands get caught in his belt loops, causing a smile to cover your face and impeding your ability to kiss him, but you couldn’t help finding humor in the fact that his skinny jeans caused all of this. You shake your head, pulling away from the kiss for a moment and making Haechan pout before he moves to suck on your neck again.

“God, you have such a slutty waist for no reason.” You spit out in feigned anger, hands resuming their roaming over his figure. Haechan pops up so his eyes could meet yours. A playful smirk on his face covering up the split second glance you got of him looking ready to devour you.

“You love my slutty waist.” He responds confidently, and while you would love to prove him wrong, you can’t bring yourself to. So, you open and close your mouth, fighting for words that would never come out, and for a moment, Haechan looks down at you with something resembling fondness written over his features, though you were positive you were making that up. He shakes his head softly with a smile before leaning back down to kiss you, and once his lips were on yours, his entire demeanor was coated with a certain roughness and desire again that had you weak.

The only thing that pulled the two of you out of your bubble was the sound of the shower turning off, and suddenly your background noise was gone, making everything feel more real. Haechan broke out of the kiss with wide eyes, rushing to get off from on top of you as he grabbed your shirts from the floor, throwing yours over to you as he fumbled to put his own shirt back on. 

“Don’t you dare tell anyone about this.” He says sternly, running a hand through his hair to get it back to somewhat normal. You rush to put your shirt back on, bounding off the couch before Jessica could walk out of the bathroom.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” You reply in kind, refusing to acknowledge the pit in your stomach that formed as Haechan gave an uninterested eyebrow flash and went to busy himself in the kitchen, preparing to act normal for whenever Jessica eventually walked out so you could take her home. 

It was only three days later when you saw Haechan again. More excited than usual for their Tuesday dinner, Jessica opened the door before Haechan could even use his key. “Hey!” She greets with a smile which he reflects right back. 

“Hey!” He replies, actually stepping into your living room. 

Jessica immediately starts talking about how she’s not even close to being ready yet but was swamped with homework and couldn’t wait for the forced study break that came with dinner, even though she had to go make herself look presentable first. Haechan nodded along, but you’re not sure he was listening at all, because even though Jessica was right in front of him, his gaze kept wandering over to you on the couch before he could noticeably snap his focus back to Jessica. You tried to stay natural, that way if Jessica actually followed his gaze over to you, she wouldn’t immediately suspect something. Though, when Jessica did finally go back to start getting ready for dinner, you jumped off the couch and dragged Haechan by the collar towards the corner of the room furthest away from hers. 

“You have to stop being so weird around me. Jessica is gonna know something happened.” You say sternly, though you kept your voice at a near whisper just in case you weren’t as far away from Jessica as you thought. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked over Haechan. He had never been this uncool before. 

Haechan shakes his head, keeping his volume low though his words were more frantic than yours.  “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” You take a small step back in surprise, finally letting go of your grip on his shirt. That was probably the last thing you were expecting him to say, but you would be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart jump up in your throat. 

“So…” You start, begging for clarification on what that meant.

Haechan moves his head down so that he’s able to make better eye contact with you, so that you could see the seriousness in his gaze. “So can we maybe see each other when Jessica isn’t getting ready in the next room?” 

You swallow hard at the question. “That sounds like a lot of sneaking around.”

“It’s worth it for you.” He replies instantaneously, making you freeze again. He was saying a very right thing under what felt like the wrong context, and despite yourself, you try to remedy that.

“But- does it have to be all sneaky? I mean, couldn’t we just-” Though, that’s as far as he lets you get before he cuts you off, shaking his head with a small laugh.

“Y/n, be real. We don’t like each other. This isn’t something emotional, it’s physical. Yeah?” Right, this was your mortal enemy you were talking to. You guys didn’t like each other. An actual relationship would be the worst idea in the world, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that he looks like a dream in skinny jeans…and you’d take what you could get.

“Yeah- uh, yeah. Let’s do it.” You reply, and Haechan flashes you a killer smirk before breaking away and settling himself on the couch to wait for Jessica to get done. You don’t join him, already feeling dizzy from the conversation. Instead, you just find refuge in your bedroom until they leave, but that night didn’t end without a text from Haechan, already making plans.

You and Haechan quickly fell into routine. The first time you went over to his house under the guise of you going to study at the library, you hardly said two words to each other. Instead, Haechan opened his door to your presence and immediately pulled you inside by your arm, pushing you towards the general direction of the couch so he could get on top of you.

The next time you came over, he opened the door to see your bright smile. “Hey, Hyuck-!” You could hardly get your words out before he pulled you inside and pinned you against the now closed door. Through heavy pants in between harsh kisses, he speaks. 

“I love it when you call me that.”

You involuntarily smile a bit as you do your best to look at him with raised eyebrows. “Your name?” You ask sarcastically as he sucks on your neck.

He pops his head back up so he can look you in the eyes as he replied. “My name that the people who I care about call me.” You freeze, chills running through your entire body at his words, and in that moment, you knew you were fucked, because this was not just physical to you. Haechan was naturally flirty - a sweet talker. That wasn’t hard to deduce from his looks alone. He was hot and he knew it, which also meant he knew how to get whatever girl he wanted for the time being, but the idea of being a ‘time being’ girl of his began to make cracks in your heart. That night, you left with a spare key to his house and instructions of coming over whenever you wanted, for physical purposes, of course.  

As soon as Jessica said she was going back home for the weekend, you immediately texted Haechan to let him know, and not even five minutes after Jess closed the door to your place, you opened it back up again to Haechan’s presence. “Hey, y/n.” He says with a smile you can’t help but reflect back to him. 

“Hi, Hyuckie.” You reply bashfully. You watch as his eyes widen a bit, his smile now reaching the rest of his facial features. Without spending much time thinking about it, he leans in and gives you a quick peck on the lips before instantly retreating back and facing the floor. You laugh as you step back and actually allow him inside, figuring that kiss was probably too domestic for him to handle. 

Since the two of you hadn’t commenced this whole operation at your place before, Haechan waited for you to take the lead on deciding where he could have you. You watch his idle presence, laughing a bit, much to his confusion, before shaking your head. “Come here.” You say, nodding your head, and he’s quick to follow.

“Um, y/n?” He says as you turn into the room. “This is your bathroom.”

“I know.” You say, bending down to grab something in one of your cabinets. Haechan just stares at you bewildered, even more so when you pull out a lens case and contact solution. You smile at his expression. “Go on then. I know you still haven’t switched contacts and I know you brought your glasses with you.”

“What?” He asks with wide eyes. You shake your head fondly, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.

“Your contacts irritate your eyes. You look cute in glasses. Please take out your stupid contacts and put your glasses on.” You watch as he dismisses your words, shaking his head as his eyes glaze with fear rather than confusion. You bite on the inside of your cheek, beyond pissed that his ex turned him into this. “Hyuck, you’re the hottest person alive. I don’t care about whatever your ex-girlfriend said. I understand if you get self-conscious and want to wear your contacts out in public, but you don’t have to with me. All I want is for you to be comfortable, and I know you’re not in your contacts.” You watch as he nods his head slowly, and you leave the bathroom with a soft smile as he gets close to the mirror to start taking his contacts out. 

You sit on the couch as you wait for him to come out of the bathroom, scrolling idly on your phone. You pop your head up to meet him when you hear his footsteps cause the floor to creak. He looks small, his arms crossed, gaze aimed at the floor, and his glasses on. You smile warmly. “My pretty boy, come here.” You say, standing up with open arms, but Haechan freezes.

“What?”

You don’t know what he’s confused about until you trace back over your words, eyes going wide as you try and remedy the situation. “I- I didn’t mean to be so possessive, calling you mine and everything. I know you’re not…mine. I mean, this is purely physical. I wasn’t trying to be like- you know. It just slipped out. I’m sorry. Please come objectify me and make things normal again.”

“Y/n, you know you’re not just a body to me, right?” He asks softly, a skeptical eyebrow raised. You raise your head to look at him through narrow eyes. 

“I’m not?”

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “No, of course not. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

“But then- but this is just physical…you don’t- I mean we don’t like each other so I don’t know how-” Your stumbling words are cut off with a kiss that you melt right into. Haechan pulls back finally with a tired expression on his face.

“You seriously talk too much. Yeah, we don’t like each other, but that doesn’t mean I act as if you’re just some body for me to use. You’re y/n, which means you’re my favorite person to hate. And you hate me back, which is great because you always look so hot when you’re pissed at me, it gets right under my skin in all the best ways. And I get the pleasure of knowing what you taste like? Do you know how big a flex that is? I mean, come on. You’re the hottest nerd around, and instead of the other nerds who probably have the biggest crush on you being the ones to kiss you like this, I’m the one who gets to know you use dragon fruit chapstick.” 

You’re able to let out a soft laugh. “You know it’s dragon fruit?” You ask in response, and Haechan raises his eyebrows, a smirk covering his lips.

“We kiss a lot.” He replies. You toss his words around visibly in your head.

“I don’t know. I don’t think we do it enough.” You say back, and Haechan just licks his lips. 

“You don’t know how badly I want to make you eat your words.” He says through his teeth, and you just throw a taunting grin his way.

“Then why don’t you?” You ask, and Haechan audibly laughs before grabbing you by the waist and crashing his lips onto yours.

You break after who knows how long when your stomach starts feeling like it’s caving in on itself. Haechan wastes no time in moving his lips from your own to your neck, guessing you probably just needed to break for air. You roll your eyes with a smile. “Hyuck.” You say monotonously, making him pop his head back up to your joyless demeanor.

“Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry. I just-”

“Hyuckie,” you laugh, and he seems to calm down a bit. “I haven’t had anything to eat yet today. I’m starving. I can’t physically kiss your pretty face anymore.”

Haechan shrugs. “Okay, let’s order a pizza.” 

You look at him, bewildered. “What- I thought- you’re not just gonna…I thought you were gonna go.”

“And why would I do that?” He questions, making you scrunch your brows down.

“Because then it would be like us hanging out while we eat. Not…this.”

Haechan laughs again. “I know. Let’s order a pizza. We’ve watched Bones on your couch before. You’re crazy if you think I’m gonna leave you so soon.” 

The shyest smile crosses your face as you reach for the phone to call the pizza place. You stare down at the number entered on the keypad - all you had to do was press the call button. Instead, you turn your gaze back over to Haechan, holding your phone out towards him. “Can you do it?” You ask shyly, and Haechan’s brows furrow.

“What?” He asks with ample confusion. You drop your head in response.

“I get really nervous when I need to order something over the phone.” You reply, your words hardly audible under your embarrassment. Haechan shakes his head, but the biggest smile comes across his face.

“You’re so fucking adorable. Give me the phone, you go get the TV ready.” He says, and you snap your gaze back up to him, a small grateful smile of your own painted across your lips as you move towards the TV. “Just a large pepperoni pizza, yeah?” Haechan continues, and you turn back to him with a nod.

“Yeah.”

You immediately turn Bones on the TV for the two of you to watch while you eat, and you’re pleasantly surprised to find a normal activity such as this didn’t feel awkward at all with him anymore. Haechan finished eating before you did, and he frowned at the space between the two of you on the couch for only a second before sliding over and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You will your face not to blush at something as stupid as this, and you don’t even know if it worked. Regardless, there was still twenty minutes left on the episode when you finished eating, too. So, you made yourself more comfortable against his body.

Haechan started rubbing his thumb up and down your side where it had laid, incredibly too domestic for your liking. You try and shake it off pretty successfully, until his thumb moved ever so slightly to caress your covered breast. You sigh, turning to face him with a raised eyebrow. “You’re an idiot.” You say monotonously. 

He doesn’t look away from the TV, but he grins widely. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He replies. Though, his attempt to feign innocence is completely ruined when he straight up grabs your boob.

“Okay, that’s it.” You huff, switching from your position laying at his side to instead straddling him on top of your couch. Haechan looks at you as though he has no clue what you’re doing there, though his hands immediately latch onto your thighs, pulling you as close as possible to him. 

“You had enough to eat yet?” He asks with a smirk.

You give a minimal shake of your head. “I don’t know, you look pretty tasty.” You hardly get through your words before your ability to speak is taken from you. Haechan kissed you with a passion that couldn’t be rivaled, as his hands left your thighs to grab your waist, trying his best to pull you even closer to him. You knew you messed up when you started moving your lower body against his, making him break away from the kiss immediately. 

“Fuck, y/n!” He says loudly, but his grip on your waist only encourages you to speed up. As he tore his lips from yours, you moved to suck on his neck, another thing you shouldn’t have done. “No, no, no! That’s my job. Need your pretty neck.” He huffs, doing his best to remove your shirt. You let him, and then Haechan has a field day with your neck and chest as you still grind against him. Somewhere along the way, you managed to rip him from his shirt as well, your fingers lightly tracing his abs and making him go crazy. He eventually started dipping his fingers beneath the waistline of your pants. “Y/n, tell me to stop.” He breathes.

“Do I have to?” You reply in between kisses. 

“Yes, y/n. I- You don’t know how badly I need you.” 

“Show me, then.” 

Haechan pulls back from your lips, staring at you intently. “Y/n, I refuse to let this be something you regret.”

You laugh a little, shaking your head in dismissal. “I won’t. I promise.” 

Haechan looks at you as though he’s holding back his own laugh. “That sounded so certain. I would hate to be the guy that has you sure this won’t be as bad.” He replies, and you suddenly understand his interpretation of your words, causing you to duck your head, moving your attention to your hands that were currently fiddling with Haechan’s fingers.

“Oh, no. Hyuck, I’ve never…” Your words taper off, and Haechan looks at you with wide eyes.

“Oh my god, y/n. I can’t be your first. I mean, that’s a big deal, you know? You deserve-”

“Hyuck, there’s no one I trust more than you for this.” You say, cutting him off and getting him to render still. He licks his lips in contemplation, sighing heavily before he looks back up at you.

“You might end up bleeding - that’s okay. I don’t want you to worry about that or feel embarrassed at all because of it. I’ll clean you up after. If at any point you get uncomfortable, you tell me right away. I do not care what point that is, you tell me and it stops immediately, no questions asked. I will do my best to not hurt you, but you gotta tell me what feels good, okay? I’m gonna need you to be vocal and I mean it literally. I wanna make this about you, yeah? Tell me what you want and what feels good. And if you’re not 100% sure, I need you to be honest about it right now because-”

“Hyuckie.” You say gently, cutting him off. “I’m sure. You don’t have to worry.”

“Yes, I do!” He rebuttals. You just roll your eyes playfully, leaning in to give him a quick kiss before making eye contact again.

“It’s okay. Look, all you have to do is wrap your pretty fingers around my neck and we’ll be good to go.” You say plainly. Haechan looks at you in disbelief.

“A choking kink? You’re kidding me.” He says, adding on a dismissive chuckle. Though, you just raise your eyebrows at him expectantly, letting him know you were serious, and he turns slightly shy.

You watch as he sucks on his lips, eyes darting down from your own as he fights back a smile. “Like, is this good?” He asks, wrapping one of his hands around your neck lightly. His face contorts as you audibly laugh.

“Absolutely not. Come on, choke me like you hate me, Hyuck.” 

His eyes go wide as he pulls his hand from your neck. “You know, I don’t know if I want to take you to the bedroom anymore. You scare me.” He remarks playfully, but you send a pout his way and he instantly folds, picking you up from under your thighs and making his way to your bedroom. The two of you spend an ample amount of time just making out, exploring each other’s bodies. Then, with another check of assurance from Haechan and a rip of a condom packet with his teeth, he gave you a glimpse of heaven. 

Afterwards, Haechan got straight to work on his promise of helping you clean up. “Alright, beautiful, do you wanna shower?” He asks, but you don’t answer his question.

“Don’t call me that.” You say instead, watching as he furrows his brows. You sigh, dodging his eye contact. “Too domestic…” You add on, and you can hear him sigh.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I won’t call you that, but really, do you want to shower?” He asks again, and you nod. He immediately scoops you up, carrying you bridal style to the bathroom. 

“I can walk you know?” You say playfully before he sets you down on the bathroom floor.

“Yeah? Guess I need to go harder next time.” He replies with a smirk, but your playfulness falls into genuine happiness. 

“I’m glad there’s still a ‘next time’ after all this.” 

Haechan drops his shoulders, taking the opportunity provided by the fact that you were staring at the floor to look at you with a softness in his eyes. “There’s always a ‘next time’ with us.” He says, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before moving to start up the shower for you. Standing frozen, by the time you realize you had to tell him that forehead kisses were also too domestic for you to handle, he was already out of the bathroom. 

When you walk back into your room wrapped in a towel, you’re shocked to see your bed stripped to just the mattress. You move your gaze to Haechan, a questioning look on your face. “Your sheets are in the washer right now. Do you have another set I can throw on your bed? If not, you can sleepover at mine. I’d just want to make sure we get your bedding in the dryer before we leave to go back to mine.” 

You’re quite honestly dumbfounded, and a smile takes over your face as you shake your head. “No, I don’t have another set. You didn’t have to do all this.” You say softly, but Haechan snaps his head back to you in an instant.

“Yes, I said I would. And this isn’t about me. How are you feeling?”

“Good.” You answer truthfully.

“Can I get you anything?” He continues, and you shake your head.

“No.” You reply. There was a beat of silence, and you lick your lips. “Actually…” You drag off, staring up at him to make sure he actually didn’t care about you making requests. “Could you just- can you just hold me for a second?” You ask weakly, and Haechan’s eyes widen.

“Yeah…yeah! Come here.” He says gently, and you take the few small steps right into his waiting arms. You don’t hug him back, your arms instead at your chest, holding up the towel that was still covering your body. Though, if Haechan minded, he didn’t let it show. His arms wrapped around you tightly, his embrace comforting. Then, without being able to really explain why, you began to cry in his arms. Haechan didn’t seem shocked. Instead, he just ran one hand gently up and down your back, though not letting up on his tight hold of you. 

“I’m sorry.” You say hoarsely. “I don’t know why I’m crying.” 

Haechan kisses the top of your head. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s okay. You’ve had an exhausting day. I’d rather you cry in my arms than alone.” 

You dig your head out of his chest, using one hand to wipe away the remaining tears on your face. “You can’t be this nice to me.” You say seriously, and Haechan sighs.

“Okay, no more being nice to each other…after tonight.” He says, and you find yourself nodding your head in response, getting him to relax again. “Do you still want me to hold you, or do you want to get dressed and head to mine?” He asks, truly not caring either way. 

You pull yourself out of his arms in response, facing the floor. “I’ll uh- get ready.”

The drive over to his place is quiet, with you staring out the window the entire time. Though, as soon as you walk through his front door, you find your words again. “I don’t regret it.” You say seriously. “And I won’t regret it when I wake up tomorrow. Or any time after that. I know I’m acting weird, but it’s not because of that. I promise.”

Haechan looks your way with a fond smile. “You aren’t acting weird, y/n. I put you through a lot today. I get it. Just come crawl into bed with me. I’ll hold you some more.” You don’t hesitate to give into his offer, though, you add it to the list of things that probably shouldn’t happen again if you don’t want to fall in love with Haechan. 

You ended up spending the entire next day with Haechan, under the reasoning that this would be the most time you guys would be able to spend together without Jessica getting suspicious. The two of you were walking back into your dorm Saturday night so that you could put your bed back together and hang out some more, figuring Haechan could just spend the night here and leave in the morning before Jessica gets back. That plan is instantly ruined when you open up the front door and see Jessica moving around in the kitchen. As quickly as you could, you shove Haechan back into the dorm hallway with one hand and slam the door behind you, praying he got the hint that Jessica was here and you didn’t just suddenly turn into a bitch. 

At the sound of the door slamming, Jessica shoots her gaze your way with a smile. “Hey, y/n!” 

You force your legs to start walking, moving towards the living room as if everything was normal. “Hey, Jess. I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow afternoon.” You say, wondering why the hell she was already here. She waves an uninterested hand in the air.

“That was the plan, but I have so much homework and my parents had a brunch planned with some of their friends so there was really no reason for me to stay another night.” 

“Ah.” You reply, trying to just sneak away to your room without any more complications. You had nearly gotten away with it, but before you can step through the open door into your room, Jessica speaks up again, making you turn back to her.

“Oh, yeah. Where are your bed sheets?” She asks, curious, and you wince.

“Uh, they’re in the dryer. I washed them.” You say neutrally, but Jessica raises an eyebrow.

“You? Washed your sheets? You never wash your sheets.” She says with a laugh.

“Yeah well, you know. Just seemed like they needed washed.” You reply, trying your best to sound normal. 

“And uh- would that have anything to do with the hickies on your neck?” She asks, and you freeze on the spot, eyes wide as you make contact with her knowing expression, praying to God she didn’t know the all of it.

“Uh- yeah you know. I might’ve hooked up with someone while you were gone.” You say, fumbling through your words. You watch as Jessica lights up.

“Who?!” 

Your throat turns dry, and you start fiddling with the rings on your fingers as you find someone to pin this on. “Johnny! You know, the kid from Chicago who takes the least amount of credit hours a semester as possible so he can spend as many years at college parties as possible? Him.” You look back up to meet Jessica’s bewildered face.

“Wow.” She replies, seeming to be incredibly amazed by your ability to pull Johnny, and you can’t even begin to imagine what she would look like if you told her you actually pulled her best friend, instead. 

“Yeah, so- I’m just gonna go grab my sheets from the dryer and go to bed. I’ve had quite the weekend and we still have all of Sunday to get through.” As soon as you finish talking, you dart to where the washer and dryer were before rushing back to your bedroom and closing the door, immediately grabbing your phone to text Haechan.

Jessica is back early! I’m sorry for slamming the door in your face, but I didn’t know what else to do.

His response comes a few minutes later, finally letting you relax again. Don’t worry, I figured that was the case. I’m already back at my place…

Though you were glad he wasn’t still outside your dorm, because he definitely couldn’t come in now, your heart struggled with the idea of him already back at his house…without you. I wish we could’ve had our extra night together. I miss you, Hyuckie.

You watch as his text bubble appears and disappears. You bite on your bottom lip, opting to start putting your bed back together to keep your mind from running. After putting one corner of your fitted sheet back on, your phone dings and you instantly move to grab it and read his message. I thought we weren’t supposed to be nice to each other.

A small smile spreads across your face. He was making fun of you. You were the one who set those boundaries in the first place. You glance from your phone to your bed and immediately know how to respond. Don’t worry. I only wish you were here so you could help me make my bed like you said you would.

There’s my y/n. You read his text over and over again. Surely he just meant it in regard to your typical personality with him, the y/n he knew. Though, the more you looked at his text, the more you knew you didn’t want him to mean it in that way, you wanted him to call you his. That’s when you knew there was no way you could respond to that message. So, you continue the task of making your bed so you could go to sleep, trying to ignore how empty it felt without him. 

Two days later, you walked back in from class to see Jessica and Haechan hanging out in your living room. Your breath hitches at the sight of him, and you quickly turn around and act like you were still fiddling with the door so you could take a moment to fix a neutral expression on your face…and prepare yourself to scowl at him once you turn back around. 

“Hey, Jess. I’m home-” You start, moving to walk towards the living room. “-oh great. You’re here.” You continue with a roll of the eyes as your gaze lands on Haechan. 

His deadpan stare looks you up and down as his nose scrunches in disgust. “Yeah, cause I was told you weren’t.”

You flash your eyebrows at him, unamused. “Well, don’t worry. I won’t be bothering you.” You state as you start on your walk to your room. Haechan calls out after you.

“You already are, sweetheart.” He says condescendingly. 

“Yeah, fuck you.” You reply back, closing the door to your bedroom and giving yourself the ability to actually breathe again.

On the couch, Jessica rubs her forehead. “You know, I thought things were actually gonna get better between the two of you after you watched Bones that one day.” She says with a small, but defeated, laugh. Haechan clears his throat awkwardly. 

“Sorry to kill your spirits, but y/n and I are not meant to be friends.” He replies in kind before quickly getting the two of them back to their conversation topic from before you walked in. 

You were getting through some homework when there was a knock at your door. Assuming it was Jessica, you throw the door open, though shock courses through you when you see Haechan, instead. He leans in to give you a soft kiss before standing straight up again, as if that type of thing was normal between the two of you. “Jessica is in the bathroom.” He says softly, and you look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s great, but I don’t think that gives us enough time to fuck.” You respond with a laugh, though Haechan’s brows furrow.

“What? I didn’t come here for that. I came to tell you I’m sorry for being mean to you when you came in.” 

Surprise runs over your face, but it soon drops into a gentle smile. “Don’t worry about it, Hyuck. We’re supposed to hate each other.”

He rolls his eyes. “I know, but it didn’t feel good this time.” He responds, riddled with defeat, and you can’t help yourself from getting up on your tiptoes to lightly kiss him again.

You pull back quickly, facing the ground. “Hyuckie-” That’s when the sound of the bathroom door opening fills the air, and you immediately jump to lean uninterestedly against your doorframe, arms crossed in front of your body as your face falls flat. “Homework! So, can you stop annoying me just because Jessica is gone for one second and you can’t annoy her?” 

As predicted, Jessica quickly finds her way over to the two of you, eventually coming to stand at Haechan’s side. “Can’t believe I come out of the bathroom to find you talking with y/n.” She says with genuine surprise. You make concerned eye contact with her.

“Talking? More like tormenting…” You say in response.

Jessica turns to look at Haechan, nudging him slightly. “Hyuck, I would be careful about pissing her off, now. She’s got some big men on her side that can come beat you up. I mean, she hooked up with Johnny Suh.” 

Your face becomes painted with shock. “Jessica!” You yell, causing her to put her hands up in defense.

“Look, it just came out.”

Haechan makes eye contact with you, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Hooked up with Johnny?! Really?” He responds, playing his part of not believing you pulled him exceptionally well.

You flash your eyebrows at him, doing your best to try and act all powerful now because you apparently hooked up with Johnny. “Yep! It was one hell of a first time.” You reply, and a soft smile is quick to adorn your face as you continue. “Not to mention he took…really good care of me after. You could learn something from him about how to treat women.” You add on, looking back up at him with a smirk. Almost all of Haechan’s body language could lead anyone to believe he hated you, didn’t give a damn about who you slept with, could hardly bother himself with this conversation at all, but his eyes were filled with fondness as he looked back at you. You inhale sharply, thankful when Haechan starts talking again to remind you of the environment you were in.

“Yeah? I’ll be sure to ask for lessons on how to tolerate you first.” He responds with a smirk of his own. Jessica finally gets fed up, rolling her eyes and grabbing Haechan by the arm to drag him away from you before you could argue any more. You almost instantly throw your homework back in your backpack, walking to the door to leave as you turn around to face them again. 

“I’m gonna head to the library since I obviously can’t get any work done here. I’ll be back later tonight.” You say with a smile aimed in Jessica’s direction. She threw a thumbs up your way along with a ‘be safe,’ and then you were out the door. 

You had just gotten to the library when your phone lit up with a text from Haechan.

I’ll pick you up from the library after Jess and I eat dinner.

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, though really, you’re beyond glad he could see how much you wanted him tonight. I’d be pissed if you didn’t :) 

His response is instantaneous. Yeah, yeah. Go do your homework before I fuck you dumb <3 

Around an hour and a half later, you get a call from Haechan and you immediately stuff your laptop back into your bag before picking up the phone. “Hey, where are you sitting? I’ll come pick you up-” He starts, but you cut him off in an instant.

“Absolutely not. We cannot be seen in public together.” 

“Y/n, this isn’t some big scandal.” He replies lightly, but you shake your head, regardless of the fact that he couldn’t see it.

“You’re wrong. Everyone knows we hate each other and everyone knows Jessica is our mutual. If they see us together, it’s getting back to Jessica in an instant. Tell me where you’re parked and I’ll come to you.” A small laugh accompanies your words, even more so when Haechan pouts on the other end and you can imagine it vividly.

“Fine, but you’re never allowed to complain that chivalry is dead when you’re the one causing it.” You roll your eyes, stepping out of the library and immediately seeing his car anyways. You hang up on the phone and open his passenger door to slide into your seat. “Finish all your homework like a good girl?” He asks with a smirk and you send a glare his way.

“Shut up. I finished all but one assignment. I got a little distracted.” You drag off, and Haechan lights up.

“Oh my god, did you touch yourself in the library bathrooms?”

“No!” You reply adamantly before sinking back into the passenger seat a little. “But I would’ve if I had to wait any longer. Dinner took a long time, Hyuckie.” You add with a frown, and Haechan just shakes his head in the driver’s seat. 

“God, it is taking everything in me to not throw you in the backseat and have you right here right now.”

You roll your eyes, more than aware that you couldn’t have car sex in front of the library. Instead, you place a hand on his cheek and kiss him deeply. He didn’t complain, figuring making out with you in his front seat was enough to hold him over since he couldn’t fuck you in the back seat. You let an entire song play through the radio as you indulged in Haechan’s taste, finally pulling back with a heavy breath before you could forget your morals. “Um…Please drive now so we can go home and you can undress me. I need you.”

 Haechan tries to hide his smile as he shifts into drive and places his hands back on the wheel. “Yeah, yeah. Next stop…home.”

You stumble your way inside his front door, passionate kisses getting in the way of actually walking. The second you get inside, Haechan is sliding your shirt over your head. He keeps his kisses as consistent as possible until everything actually registers in his mind and he pulls back to look you up and down, absentmindedly licking his lips. “Y/n, goddamn.”

You look down at your chest just to laugh and fix your gaze back on him. “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. I did some shopping.” You say offhandedly, as though your new lingerie set wasn’t killing Haechan. He finally brings himself to look back at your face, not bothering to hide how pissed he was.

“On the couch, now.” He orders, and you just roll your eyes playfully, grabbing him by the neck of his shirt to bring him along with you. In no time flat, he’s completely on top of you, kissing what seemed to be every inch of your body. Though, the second his lips land on your neck, you remember the new boundaries you had to set. 

“Hey, you can’t leave marks on my neck anymore.” 

“Oh, but Johnny can, huh?” He teases as he props himself up to make eye contact with you. 

You roll your eyes. “He was the first guy that came to mind.”

Haechan shakes his head. “I’ll make sure you can never think about another guy again.” He says with conviction, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe.

“God, you’re so hot.” You say through an exhale, and Haechan just laughs before moving to suck and nip at your neck again. “Hyuck, that didn’t mean you could still bruise me, baby.” 

He hums against your skin, finding a way to respond without putting too much space between your two bodies. “Can’t help it. You look so pretty, all marked up as mine.” He mumbles. You sigh, running a hand gently through his hair as he works on your chest instead. 

“Hyuckie, I’m not yours.” You say softly, trying to make sure the defeat you felt while admitting that didn’t show. Haechan freezes immediately, and when he finally finds his ability to move, it’s just to press a lingering kiss on your lips.

“Just for tonight. Be mine just for tonight.” He says, though it comes out more so as a question. You let out another small sigh, shaking your head before moving to connect your lips to his again. 

“Jessica knows I don’t do any homework past 10:00.” You tell him as you break apart. Haechan takes a moment to glance at his watch, reading the time before nodding his head softly. 

“I’ll get you back by then. Don’t worry.” From then until 9:45, Haechan spent all of his time making sure you were his that night.  

It was about two months into whatever it was that you and Haechan had gotten yourselves into. You were currently sitting in the living room. You knew Haechan was fully aware that Jessica wasn’t home, so now you were just waiting for him to burst through the front door at any moment. When he finally does, he walks to put his keys and wallet down on the counter before making his way over to where you were sitting and placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Hey,” he says smoothly, causing blush to cover your face. You still weren’t used to the days where he would be more gentle with you, not that you were complaining, but it was unfamiliar nonetheless. You smile back at him, about to respond when he finally moves his gaze to assess what you’ve been up to. “Are you playing Mariokart?” He asks, and you laugh from slight embarrassment. 

“Yeah. Had to kill time while waiting for you somehow.” You say as you hit the home button to exit out, but then you notice the smallest traces of sadness cross his face, causing you to smirk. “Did you want to play?” You ask, and Haechan shoots his gaze back over to you, looking more like a boy than ever. 

“Of course I want to play!” He replies, and suddenly your laughter isn’t from embarrassment anymore. You move to grab another remote for him so the two of you could play together. You spent the next two hours playing Mariokart with him, trying to perfect all the circuits so you could collect all the best trophies, and though today’s physical touch went no further than celebratory kisses, playful shoves, and your head on his shoulder, you wouldn’t have traded it for the world. Though, it brought about a fundamental truth - you were not having passionate sex with your enemy. No, you found that you liked being around Haechan. 

The two of you had finished a quick dinner before the realization hit that Jessica would be coming back home from her night class soon. With a shared glance, you and Haechan both knew he should probably head back to his place. You reluctantly walked him to your front door, hand reaching for the knob to open it when Haechan’s hand grabbed hold of your own. You look up at him, confused, but he just stared down at you with a grin before leaning in to kiss you. “We can do this more often, too.” He says softly as he pulls back. You raise your brows in question. 

“Kiss?” You reply, trying to figure out what he was referring to. 

Haechan laughs, shaking his head and making his hair fall messily around his eyes. “No- well, yes, I always want to kiss you, but I’m talking about just hanging out. You know, playing Mariokart and all that…if you want! We don’t have to, I can just come over and immediately undress you and I wouldn’t mind that either-”

“Hyuck,” you say with a laugh, cutting him off. “We’ll hang out more, don’t worry. Besides, we still have the 200 cc circuits to beat.” 

You watch as he smiles brightly back down at you before leaning back in, this time to kiss every inch of your face and turn you into a giggling mess. “I’ll see you soon.” He says smoothly, and then he’s finally out the door and leaving you blushing profusely because you think Haechan just admitted to enjoying being around you, too. 

A couple of Fridays later, Haechan lets himself into your dorm as casually as ever when he comes over to actually hang out with Jessica. At the sound of the door closing, Jessica walks out from her room to greet Haechan, who already had his attention occupied by the new addition to your kitchen table. “Flowers? I didn’t know you could keep things alive.” He jokes as he turns around to face Jessica. She just rolls her eyes with a laugh.

“They’re not mine. Y/n bought them, and for your information, I can actually keep flowers alive way better than she can, thank you very much.” She replies, and Haechan turns back to study the bouquet again, trying to memorize them before Jessica could catch onto his actions.

“Should’ve known y/n bought them - these aren’t the prettiest flowers by a long shot.” He says with a scoff. 

Jessica shakes her head. “You should be glad she isn’t home right now to hear you say that. The bluebells in there are her favorite flower in the world.” At this, Haechan shoots his gaze back towards Jessica.

“Really?” He asks, furrowing his eyebrows after the fact to try and cover up the genuine curiosity that painted his question. Jessica seems not to notice as she just nods her head, but that’s when you finally come in through the front door, and they both turn their attention towards you.

You didn’t know Haechan was going to be at your place right now, but you probably should’ve guessed with it being a Friday - if Mark and Jessica weren’t going on a solo date, their friend group typically hung out and bar hopped all together. Regardless of the fact that Jessica was there, you couldn’t bring yourself to put on a look of disgust once you saw Haechan. Instead, you were radiating off a sort of empty feeling - you weren’t really sad, just hollow, not concerned enough to fake-hate Haechan. You don’t say a single word in greeting as you just go to your room and start getting things ready for a shower. 

Haechan turns back to Jessica with raised eyebrows. “Where did she just come from?” He asks, wondering what the hell had you looking like that. 

“Ummmm, today’s Friday, right?” Jessica asks, then looking at the time. “She just got back from quantum mechanics.” She answers, and that seems to calm her worries - she would look dead every time she had to sit through quantum mechanics, too. On the other hand, Haechan’s hands balled into fists. He knew that class was with your dick of a professor, and he could only guess as to what disgusting things he threw your way this time that had you feeling so dirty you had to shower right away. 

Haechan wanted to barge into your room, wrap you in the biggest hug, and let you cry in the comfort of his arms, but he couldn’t - not with Jessica here. With every muscle in his body tensed up, he thought about the consequences of his actions should he go wrap you in a hug anyways, but that wouldn’t be fair to you. You were a part of whatever relationship the two of you had going on, and you both agreed that relationship stayed hidden. He couldn’t ruin that now without your consent.

Instead, he just looked back at Jessica flatly, flashing his eyebrows in recognition of the answer, and then quickly moved along. “Do you wanna head out to meet up with the guys?” He asks in return, and if there was any desperation in Haechan’s voice conveying how much he needed to get out of your dorm before he cracked, Jessica didn’t pick up on it. She nodded, grabbing her things, knocking on your door to let you know they were heading out, and then following Haechan out of the dorm.

Before you knew it, six months had passed since Haechan lost his dad, and you decided to surprise him with his favorite meal. It wasn’t like the two of you weren’t planning dinners/hangouts/hookups basically every day anyways, but you still wanted this one to be more lowkey, more intimate in an emotional, rather than physical, way, and a surprise dinner would do just that. You picked up his favorite takeout for the both of you before driving over to his place, pulling out your spare key to his house with excitement overtaking you as you walked in.

“Hey, Hyuckie. I’m here with din- Oh god.” Your face, along with the bag of food in your hands, instantly drops as you turn back from the closed door to his living area, only to notice him on top of another girl…his ex. Tears immediately sting at the back of your eyes, and you’re using everything in you to not let them fall down your face.

Haechan pops up as soon as you had started speaking, his eyes wide as he turns to look at you over his shoulder, and his body still straddled over his ex. “Y/n!” He yells out in shock.

His ex moves to prop herself up on her elbows, giving her a clear view of your frozen state at the door. Then, she rolls her eyes with a laugh. “Oh, I forgot she was the one getting my sloppy seconds.”

Your brows furrow. In any case, this could have been two friends grabbing dinner together. There was no way for her to so confidently say you were hooking up with her ex without him saying so. You face Haechan with betrayal covering your entire being. “So much for not kissing and telling, huh Haechan?” You spit out before walking back out of his place and slamming the door.

When you were finally outside, that’s when you gave yourself the chance to bawl your eyes out. You knew you wouldn’t be able to drive home safely without letting yourself cry beforehand. What sucked is that it gave Haechan time to fling the front door open. “Y/n-” He starts, grabbing your wrist to stop you from walking. You do your best to face away from him entirely, yanking your wrist out of his hand and cutting him off.

“Don’t touch me, Haechan!” You choke out, and he lets go immediately, regardless of the desperation on his face.

“Look I-”

You stop him again, his voice alone sending more tears down your face. You finally turn to him, slowing your words down so your voice doesn't crack, or at least, you tried to. “How long has it been going on?”

Haechan’s face and shoulders drop in unison. “This is the first time she’s been back over since the break up.” He replies softly.

You shake your head, none of it making sense and all of it hurting you. “Why…?” You had more of a question prepared, but that was all you could get out. You watch as Haechan sighs.

“I ran into her at a darty today. She approached me and started conversation. I tried not to involve myself in it, but she laughed and told me I was stupid for not wanting to talk to her because she said no one else will ever love me. And when I went to refute, I accidentally mentioned you. And she- she laughed again, telling me that I was dumb for thinking you would ever care for me, cause you hate me. And I couldn’t think of anything to say in response. And so then we ended up here.” The more he spoke, the more enraged you became. You shake your head in disgust.

“Fuck you!”

Haechan’s eyes widened. “What-”

You make sure to maintain eye contact with him as you begin to speak, though your words were broken up by your intense sobs. “You couldn’t think of anything to say against her point?! Who was the one washing off the makeup she made you put on? Who was the one telling you that the last thing you needed to do was cover up your stupid pretty face in the first place? Who was the one with a contact lens case in their bathroom so you could take them out and wear your glasses while you were over because you’re more comfortable in them? Who was the one you came to for comfort when you lost your dad-?”

“I went over to find Jessica!” He yells, cutting you off, but you don’t take any of it.

“But you stayed when you saw it was just me! Haechan-”

“Can you stop fucking calling me that?!” He pleads, tears now running slowly down his own cheeks. 

All you can do is shake your head again sadly. “I don’t understand how you could go through all of that with her and then go back to it. Do you know how idiotic I feel?! Sneaking around and lying to Jessica because I’m hooking up with her best friend, who everyone thinks I hate, by the way, behind her back. Being so euphoric from your touch that I want to tell the world but I can’t because you told me I couldn’t tell anyone, and I wasn’t gonna break that promise because I wanted to be able to keep seeing you- would do anything to keep seeing you. Thinking that maybe there was the smallest chance any of this was real to you, too. To be so upset over something I have no right to be upset about because you were never mine.”

“Y/n-” He says as gently as he could given both your states. You lose the courage to look him in the eye, instead dropping your gaze to the floor as you respond.

“I feel like an idiot, Haechan.” With that, you turn to get back in your car and go home, and Haechan doesn’t stop you. 

You continued to cry the entire drive back home, but you managed to stop the debilitating sobs, and instead soft, insistent tears just rolled down your face. You unlock the door to your house, your voice cracking as you announce your presence.

“I’m home.”

“Y/n-” Jessica starts excitedly, but then she sees your state and instantly panics. “-are you okay?! What happened?!” She continues, running up to where you stand defeated at the entryway.

“Is everything okay?” A male voice adds, and you sigh as your cries get more intense again.

“Mark is here. Of course Mark is here. Cause you guys are together and happy.” You say in a snarky response, and out of your peripheral, you see a frowning Mark take two steps back from the hug you and Jessica were encased in.

“Y/n, what is going on?” Jessica asks, more confused than ever because you’ve never been anything but happy for her and Mark. You shake your head rapidly in response.

“Nothing. You would hate me.”

Though your face was buried in her chest, you can sense her rolling her eyes. “I can assure you, I wouldn’t.” She states plainly, and though you knew she definitely would once she actually knew what was up, you took her words for what they were worth and your explanation tumbled out of your mouth.

“I’ve been hooking up with Haechan behind your back.”

Jessica immediately pulls away from the hug, making concerned eye contact with you instead. “WHAT?!”

Mark glances between the two of you, feeling incredibly like he was intruding, even more so because Haechan was his friend, too. “I’m uh- gonna go grab food!” He interjects before dashing out of the door behind you. With him gone, you continue with your explanation.

“For months, Jess. And we agreed not to tell anyone because it was just a friends with benefits thing, or enemies with benefits I guess. But it was more to me. It was real. I love him, Jessica.” The words just tumbled out of your mouth, but they were true, you knew so the second you said it. You loved Haechan.

Jessica looks at you with a frown. “So why the tears?” She asks gently, and you immediately drop your gaze to the floor, embarrassed, ashamed.

“I went over and unlocked his door with my spare key because we were gonna have dinner together.” You say slowly, your words finally coming out more even.

“Yeah?” Jessica probes when you had seemed to stop talking completely. You swallow hard, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid more tears from falling, but then you just spit it out.

“He was with his ex. On top of her. On the couch that knows my imprint.”

Jessica’s eyes widened impossibly. “Y/n-”

“Why the fuck would he do that, Jessica?” You practically shout, your rage finally mixing in with your sorrow.

Jessica just shakes her head, sucking on her bottom lip. “I don’t know.” She replies softly, and then she just holds you in silence until your tears finally stop and you move to lock yourself in your bedroom. 

Two days later, when there’s a knock on your door, you assume Jessica is there to try and get you to eat something again. You slump over to open your bedroom door, already preparing how to tell Jessica you still couldn’t imagine stomaching food yet, when instead, it’s Haechan’s worried gaze meeting yours. Your eyes widen, stinging with tears already, but you can’t bring yourself to close the door just yet - maybe it was the fact that he was in his glasses, goddamned skinny jeans, and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. “Y/n, it was the worst mistake of my life.” He says sincerely, and you drop your gaze to the floor.

“What? Getting together with me or her?” You ask with venom.

His response is instantaneous. “With her. Obviously!”

“You sure? You sure she doesn’t love you more than I do?” You spit back angrily, daring to look him in the eyes once again just to glare at him.

The sadness in his face neutralizes in an instant, and he stares back at you with wide eyes. “You- do you- do you love me?” He asks hesitantly in response, and the tears you’d been holding back fell freely now.

“I’m not fucking putting myself through this.” You respond defeatedly, and you immediately close the door in his face, running to bundle up in bed in a mess of tears. 

When you finally step out of your room again to grab a water bottle, you’re met with the bouquet Haechan had in his hands now laying on the counter. You walk up to it, reading the sticky note now attached. 

This was the only bouquet they had with bluebells…I know they’re your favorite. Coincidentally, one of their meanings is forgiveness (according to the flower shop guy, at least). There’s nothing I want more than your forgiveness. Y/n, I messed up so bad, I know, I’m sorry. I never should have done that. I don’t know why I did that, not when you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I’m sorry I never made you mine when I really had the chance. I was terrified you didn’t feel for me the way I do for you, but now I know how stupid that was. You’re the only one to ever care for me the way you do, and if you decide that what I did was too terrible, just know you’ll forever be my standard…my beautiful, incomparable standard.

When Jessica walked in through the front door after grabbing lunch with Mark, she found you still standing there in the kitchen, looking down on the now tear-stained note as your body still shook with sobs. 

She walked over to the counter, silently sliding the note away from where it laid in front of you to read it herself. From your right, you hear her sigh and she’s quick to put down the note and wrap you in a hug instead. You stay crying in her arms for what you felt had to be too long, but she never said a word about it if it was. 

Your days quickly started to blur, all of them feeling the same as you would drag yourself to class and then back home, with no extra plans to ever keep you occupied or active. You were currently on the couch, sweats adorning your figure, Bones on the TV, and a pint of ice cream in your hands. You had given up on trying - no longer caring about nice outfits or makeup, hardly eating anything of actual substance. As long as you had enough energy to sit through class, you considered it a win. It was after dinner time when Jessica got back from one of her dates with Mark, closing the front door to turn around and see you as her face falls. 

“Hey…how are you?” She asks lightly, walking over to where you sat in the living room.

You don’t move your gaze away from the TV, or more so, the ice cream you were eating. “Fine. Why?” You reply monotonously, and Jessica looks at you defeatedly.

“Because sweetheart, it’s been two months and you’re still devouring pints of icecream at a time on our couch.”

“I don’t like life without him.” You spit out in reply, though your voice is weak, and the more you thought about how true the statement was, the closer you got to tears. 

Jessica reaches over to brush some of your hair back from where it covered your face, making sure the two of you could make eye contact. “I know. He feels the same way, you know?”

“You’re just saying that.” You snap back instantly, but Jessica shakes her head.

“No, I’m not. I wouldn’t do that to you. Every time I go over to his place, he looks almost exactly like you do. He keeps beating himself up, saying he should’ve stuck to his plan for your birthday, that everything would’ve worked out perfectly if he knew you at least tolerated him before he indulged in your physical attractiveness.”

This finally gets your attention, and your face fills with confusion, feeling something other than sadness for the first time in two months. “Wh- what do you mean his plan for my birthday?”

Jessica seems surprised at the question. “Oh, I thought he would’ve told you. He was gonna pick you up from class and walk you back here so he could wish you a happy birthday.” 

In an instant, all of the color drains from your face again. “Why didn’t he?”

“I don’t know. He never told me.” Jessica answers seriously, now cementing the idea you had in your mind of what happened, everything clicking into place.

You finally speak again after what felt like forever of silence, your brain going 100 miles an hour. “...Do you know where he is now?” You ask seriously, and Jessica doesn’t hide her shock at your change in behavior.

“No, but I can find out. You okay?” She asks, and you just shake your head.

“No. No, not at all.” You reply, and you’re already up off the couch, rushing to put the pint of ice cream away and change into nicer clothes as Jessica texts Haechan, who just so happened to be at home…because his daily routine practically reflected yours over the past two months.

You knock harshly on his door, pacing back and forth as you wait for him to answer, nerves coursing through your entire being. After what felt like a lifetime, the door cracks open, and all of your movements pause. At first, it’s hardly open enough to see him at all, and you gulp back your awkwardness. “What do you-” He starts quietly, but he quickly recognizes you from the tiny view he allowed himself, and suddenly the door is swung wide open. “Y/n?” 

You stare up at him, heart melting at the sight. He was in a big hoodie and wearing his glasses, making the corners of your mouth perk up in a smile. Though, the smile quickly drops as you take in the rest of his features. Jessica was right, he looked as bad as you. To be fair, he was still the most attractive man alive, but he had dark circles around his eyes, and he looked as though he hadn’t seen the sun in weeks. 

You lick your lips, which were now noticeably dry, building the courage to speak as you did so. “You were gonna pick me up from class on my birthday?”

His eyes go wide as he moves his gaze away from you for the first time since he opened the door. “I-”

“Hyuck.” You cut him off, staring up at him intently and getting him to crack with a huff of breath.

“Yeah…yeah I was. Jessica said it was your birthday. And we still weren’t friends then, but I would’ve felt bad not at least wishing you a happy birthday. So I texted Jessica to see where you were and decided I would just walk you back from class. And I-” He breaks off with a faint laugh as he recalls the memory. “I put on a pair of skinny jeans beforehand because I figured even if you hated me, you found me at least a little more tolerable in skinny jeans. Then I went to go pick you up. When you didn’t come out with the rest of your class, I went inside the lecture hall to see what was up or if I just missed you somehow. That’s when I saw you talking to your professor. That’s when I heard his comments. You weren’t even in anything close to scandalous anyways. You just dressed up for your birthday. You were pretty. That was it, so I figured it wasn’t a one-off thing. How you handled it made me think it wasn’t the first time for it to happen, either. You could barely see your wince. The same couldn’t be said for me, though. I was mad, fuming. I got out of there as soon as I could so that I’d be out of sight by the time you got out. If you saw me and started a conversation, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from bringing it up. God, I was so angry, and I figured that wasn’t what you wanted on your birthday.” He faced the ground while he spoke, but you studied his figure the entire time, your eyes finding their home as they landed on Haechan again after all this time. You hardly let him finish his last word before you speak up.

“Tell me you want to kiss me.” You say, and Haechan finally whips his head back up to face you, eyes wide in surprise. “Tell me you want to kiss me and have it mean something outside of these walls.”

“What?!” He responds, visibly thrown off. You don’t have the patience for it.

“Hyuck!” You say, and Haechan seems to come back to the moment, nodding his head rapidly.

“I do! I want to kiss you. Always.” 

The biggest of smiles overtakes your face as you press up on your tiptoes to finally lock your lips with his again. One of his hands immediately flew to your waist, while the other placed itself lightly on the side of your face, holding you as though one harsh movement would cause this moment to break, this dream to end. When you pull back for air, Haechan wastes no time. “Y/n, please be my girlfriend. Please be mine. Please let me tell the entire world that you’re mine.” He says, his intonation practically making it a beg. 

You nod your head before digging it into his chest in a tight hug. “I’m yours.” 

[agender-wolfie]

This is my annual “thank you for making posts about Simon Riley because I didn’t have him or COD on my radar - or my dash 😞😞😩😩 - prior to coming across your tumblr and exploring what you had on it.” I didn’t know what I was missing and I never want to go backkkkkkk 🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾

Could I kindly ask you for any other thoughts you have regarding Simon and the rest of the 141?

Aww! Well thank you so much! ☺️ And yes. Once you’ve experienced Simon, you can never go back lmao

As for Simon and the rest of the 141, here are some little headcanons of mine for them

Simon: He absolutely gifts you the oddest things because they “reminded me of you” like he will find you rocks, little flowers growing in the sidewalk cracks, a dead bug, enamel pins, leaves, stickers, anything that’s your favorite color, etc. He will get all giddy inside on his way home with his treasures because he can’t wait to show them to you and see your reaction. He explodes internally when you express how much you love them and how thoughtful he is.

He just toes the ground with his hands in his pockets and keeps his head down while trying to hide his blush. “It’s nothing, love” But it’s most definitely not nothing when you give him the biggest bear hug and he reciprocates and melts into you.

Price: This man is a sucker for being pampered. He actually doesn’t even realize it until you come along. He was always used to taking care of others and being the “Big strong captain” that the thought of the same being done for him never entered his mind.

Then one day early in your relationship, he comes home tired as a dog and aching all over just to inhale the smell of a home cooked meal and hearing you humming in the kitchen. He walks up and hugs you from behind asking “ What’s all this, darling?” You then explain to him that you know he’s been working so hard and you wanted to take care of him the same way he takes care of you. You also let him know that you’ve made dessert and laid out some comfy clothes for after his shower. No, his eyes are not getting watery. You must’ve been cutting onions or something.

Soap: He loves how well you get along with his family. His Nan absolutely LOVES you and is constantly pestering him on when he’s gonna finally propose. All his little cousins flock to you at family gatherings as well and you’re friendly and personable with everyone, almost like you’ve known them for years.

He’s just so happy and proud that he’s found someone who meshes so well with the other loved ones in his life. His Nan is right. But that little box is going to stay in his underwear drawer for a little while longer until he finds the perfect moment to ask you to be his.

Gaz: He loves going for walks with you, doesn’t even matter where it is. But his favorites are parks, festivals and about town while you’re shopping or going out to eat.

He loves to show you things while on your walks like this cool leaf he found or the ducks in the pond. He will also show you cool things he finds while y’all are out shopping. Like a chandelier that looks like an octopus. (You both get it btw because duh. It’s an octopus chandelier) He just loves spending time with you and making memories that he holds near and dear to his heart.

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Pretend It's Someone That Came for You (18+)

pairing: coworker!wonwoo x fem!touch-starved!reader

genre: coworker au, office au, strangers to lovers, angst w a happy ending, smut (MDNI!!), fluffy fluffy fluff fluff

description: you're lonely. you're so lonely you think it might actually kill you. but when wonwoo transfers to your office, he might just change that fact.

warnings: unprotected sex (do NOT pls my babes), soft dom!wonwoo, sub!reader, v loving sex, praise (f. receiving), confession of love, riding, fingering (f. receiving), pussy rubbing tihi, pet names (pretty girl, good girl, baby, darling, etc), VERY angsty beginning, yn is truly v sad so DO NOT READ THIS if u fear it will make u sad!!, they say i love u unrealistically fast but i had to do it, yn uses sex to feel less lonely/ends up feeling more lonely, relatable yn frs, slightly dramatized symptoms of touch-starvation (?), kinda boring plot but idc bc its CUTE AF

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "finally!!" (she was fed tf up), "stanley is the most stanley man ever. i hate him but i love him.", (more r coming she actually didnt have time 2 read this and i didnt want to wait with posting.)

wordcount: 10.0k

a/n: this story was supposed 2 have more angst, like it was supposed to have this whole misunderstanding, but it just didnt feel right, it made me sad, so instead this is a short n sweet love story xx

Sometimes you think that the loneliness might kill you. 

You weren’t always like this. You remember being a sociable, joyful child; half-broken bikes and teddy bears and booster seats. You remember pigtails and popsicle sticks and Power Rangers, and what came after that? Being a moody teenager, became being a moody adult. High school became college, and college became an office job that served to keep you alive, even if it didn’t feel like being alive. College wasn’t that bad, you remember, so at what point had you mistaken isolation for privilege? And at what point had you gone too far into that tunnel-hole to turn back? 

 You must’ve been cursed, you think, putting on your outfit for work in the deadly still apartment. Dust dares not move, dares not give you hope that you are not alone. 

You must’ve been cursed, you think, coming into work to a string of half-hearted, mumbled greetings. Your office is off-white and black and gray and everyone inhabiting it is also off-white and black and gray, and their skin is faintly oily and sickly and their faces are dragging down as if the very earth was reclaiming them and you think that you fit in here better than anywhere else. 

You must’ve been cursed, you think, when you spend your day writing emails and organizing documents of information into different formats to send to huge corporations. Sometimes you fantasize about the other end of the transaction. Maybe their office is warm and brown with an accent of blue, and maybe people put hands on each other's shoulders, when they tell one another they’ve done a good job. 

Yes, there’s no other explanation, you think, and can’t even muster the energy to feel bad when you blame some old hag from your hometown. You think she must’ve conjured up the worst ingredients, something cartoonishly evil, and a spell befell you, sunk into the crevices of your skin and dug into your pores.

You lie on your couch with a glass of wine and the television going, but you’re not really listening. You don’t think anyone has touched you in six months. You’re not even sure you’re real anymore. You swear, you could live with no one hearing you out, because you’re not sure you’d have anything worthwhile to say, but you just needed someone to touch you. To reach out a hand and confirm, you’re real, you’re right underneath my fingertips, and I’m squeezing your shoulder, and I see you, and I feel you right here.

Sometimes you think that the loneliness might kill you.

Lying physically very still, you still feel like you’re scrambling, fighting the clutch of the curse, and tugging on metal chains. Maybe that’s where all your energy goes. 

What do normal people do when they feel this bad?

Sometimes you leave open the window, and when the wind tugs at your door, you pretend it’s someone that came for you. 

Tug, tug, tug. The door rattles against its hinges when the fatally empty sky brings to you, in outstretched palms, the wind interlaced with glimmers of hope. 

There’s never anyone at the door.  _____________________________

This particular day starts like any other. You wake to your alarm and you put on clothes and you get ready and brush your teeth. Then you trample down to the bus stop. The sky is smothered by a duvet of heavy rain clouds. The rain hasn't come yet, but you know it will. Your fingers become stiff and hard, where they adhere to the polyester strap of your bag, massaging it. The bag is cold and dead.

The bus ride is by far the greatest part of your day. It’s quiet - early enough that you’re only accompanied by a few other souls. You rest your head on the window, vibrating gently against the curve of your forehead, and watch the people in the street. 

 The bus hums a gentle tune and snakes down the streets. Then you’re there, and whatever solace that it offers you under artificial light and mediocre, felted seats is gone. 

Your office building is maybe the most depressing place on earth. It’s no glamorous feat of architecture. It is but a large, orange-y, puke-y, brick square, and the building is shared between yours and the Forester company. You don’t talk to the Foresters, but you know they eat cream cheese bagels on their breaks and throw birthday parties and once you saw the branch manager squeezing a salesman’s shoulder and telling him he had done a good job. His fingers squeezed down and the movement of the fabric revealed a shoulder pad built into the suit. You remember thinking it was a shame that it blocked the real touch. 

Today, you walk up the stairs with heavy steps and you idle into the office building, eyes cast down to the dirty, gray carpet. You begin the long trek into the back of the building where your desk is located.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Tina.

“Morning, Tina,” you mumble back.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Gerard. 

“Morning, Gerard,” you mumble back. 

“Morning.”

“M-”

Wait a minute. 

Your greeting falls short. You don’t recognize that voice. Stopping in your tracks, your shoes scratch on the rough carpet, and lift your head to see him. 

The first thing you notice is that he’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. He looks like he jumped out of an underwear commercial; he’s all strong jawline, sharp eyes, round glasses on his pretty nose, neatly trimmed, short dark hair stretching down the planes of his face. He’s wearing a button up (usually you wouldn’t even register the clothing your coworkers adorned, but something about how he wore it was noteworthy), a tie draping over the dress shirt, and formal slacks hugging his thighs. 

He smiles at you sheepishly, hands nervously smoothing down his thighs. 

“I’m Wonwoo” he says curtly, nodding to you. “Just transferred from the Wallingset branch.” 

You nod. “Right. Wallingset,” you nod more. “Nice to meet you. I’m Y/n.” 

“Nice to meet you too, Y/n.” 

Something about your name on his lips makes your heart flutter. It’s pathetic, you know, but his peregrine being in his office chair, spilling your name from his pink lips makes you feel a little more real. You look at him and then you nod again-again, kicking your legs into gear again and walking the last stretch to your desk. 

You can see the back of his head from your orange-wood desk. Papers and sticky notes are scattered among the desktop. The monitor watches you accusingly, all big and square and black, waiting for you to open it up and begin working. Your eyes linger on him for a moment. Then you work. 

A few hours pass on emails and translating information from a company into a comprehensive sheet. However, today you’re having a hard time focusing on work. 

This is not new. 

Sometimes you briefly talk to a man at the grocery store, and your mind will wander to him for next week, wondering if he’s thinking about you too, imagining yourself cuddling with him, watching movies, imagining him telling you it’ll all be okay. Sometimes you briefly talk to a man on the street, sometimes it’s even a date, but whatever the case you obsess and you dream and you always end up alone. 

Today the victim of your depraved mind is Wonwoo. The guilt is easy to push away. You feel sorry for yourself. You think you deserve this. You think you can’t survive without this. And so you imagine him hugging you, stroking your hair, and you imagine him falling in love with you, and you imagine not being alone. Your fingers rest on your keyboard. It’s old and mechanical. You think it’s from a yard sale, probably an old woman whose children moved away. It’s plastic, and it curves inwards underneath the pads of your fingertips. The keys are cold and dead. 

You fully zone out, eyes blearing into the back of his head, but you don’t really see it, your mind has traveled elsewhere. You guiltily imagine his hand between your legs, on your chest, straddling him, kissing him. And it’s not rough, it’s loving, because in this world he loves you, and he’d do anything for you, and you don’t have to be alone again.

You don’t love Wonwoo. It’s not some magical love at first sight, it’s not a romance book, it’s real life. You’re lonely. You need this to survive. 

“Hey, Y/n?” 

You snap your head up. Maybe you were still daydreaming. But you recognized the voice well and true, and it was Wonwoo, leaned over your desk, hands in his pockets.

“Oh, uhm, hey-” your voice is shaky and you quickly rush to compose yourself, hands moving frantically and uselessly to glide papers over one another and, then, realizing that there was no point to your movements, stilling and looking up at him, cheeks flushed. “Hey.” 

Wonwoo smiles gently. “Uh, you know, I was wondering,” he looks around the office, as if surveying the area. “If you knew where to get a good lunch? I don’t know this area at all, so..” 

He trails off, looking at you expectantly for an answer. Now that he’s standing before you, it’s much harder to ignore the guilt you feel. You wanna gnaw at your nails until they’re nubs, you want to crawl under your desk and cover your eyes. Does he see how red your cheeks are? 

“Uhm- well- I don’t- I eat a packed lunch, so I’m-” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I’m, uh, no expert,” you giggle awkwardly and watch his gentle smile drop into pursed lips. “But! Uh- I hear the- the hot dog stand, uh, just a little down the street is good!” 

“Really? Maybe I should try it,” he contemplates, smile returning to his lips. “Would you mind showing me this mysterious hot dog stand?” 

“Uh-” 

Just seconds before you were thinking of his fingers in your pussy, and his hands caressing you, and him making you feel loved. He’s standing before you and he’s a totally normal guy, and you feel like shit. You feel like shit for using this fake image of him to comfort yourself. You can’t be around him, can’t convince yourself that maybe this’ll turn into something more - not when you always end up alone. Your brows furrow in determination.

“Actually, I have to, uh, get this done, so-” you gesture vaguely to your monitor. 

“Right! Yeah,” Wonwoo seems embarrassed, biting his lips and nodding. “It’s, uh, just down the street?” 

“Yeah, to the right when you walk out the building.” 

“For sure. Thanks,” he doesn’t even look at you then, just waves you off half-heartedly and starts trailing down the office. His shoulders are incredibly broad and his belt wraps tightly around his small waist.

You feel like shit.  _____________________________

Why is no one else cursed? 

You look out of the window, lying on your bed after work. Everything is very still and unmoving - your whole apartment feels like it’s knotted in strings, tightened until everything is snapped into place, and if you move the wrong muscles, the invisible hands will let go and everything will fly and hurdle through your home, and you can almost hear the sound, like the hard, empty sound of throwing a bowling ball and getting a strike. 

No one else is cursed. People crowd the streets with friends, family, partners, and they’re talking and laughing. You rest your head in the windowsill, a lone spectator in the window. The glass cuts you off from the streets. 

The afternoon after daydreaming the way you did about Wonwoo is always hard. Your apartment seems intent on suffocating you. Your daydreams serve as a reminder that you’re alone, that you truly have no one, and the act itself is so humiliating, you sulk into a glass of red wine and sometimes you cry. What do normal people do when they feel this bad, you wonder again, sobbing in your bed and spilling wine on your nightie. 

Nighttime falls early while you’re crying. You weep on and off, hug your knees, eat a microwave dinner and watch TV, light casting onto your pathetic form on the couch.

And in your most vulnerable state is when you most easily slip into your old habits. 

You press an old contact in your phone, one you’d tried to steer away from recently. You wipe mascara from your reddened cheeks, you wear pretty lingerie, and you lie, completely empty, void of any warmth, on your bed, awaiting.

It’s the first time he touches you in months. When his hand finds your shoulder, you shudder terribly. Sorry, he says, and he seems taken aback. Just ignore it, you plead, just ignore it. He does so, unsurely, and every time his hand grazes over your body you shudder and sob and every time he hesitates, asking if you’re okay, you cry at him to continue.

It feels good while it’s happening. Skin beneath your fingertips, hands on you, a face close to yours. You and him are the only thing moving in the apartment, synergizing on your bed, conjoining and writhing, and for just a moment, you don’t feel so alone. 

When you’re done the anonymous man stands back up, sliding on his pants in the late hour. He says it was great and you hum. But then he looks around, hesitating on every old piece of furniture, on every photo on the walls, and lastly on you.

“What?” you ask, lying naked in your bed. He grimaces at you, as if signaling that he can’t quite figure it out himself. 

“I don’t know,” he says slowly, hands on his newly-clothed hips and surveying the corners of the room, where shadows pool. “It feels haunted in here.” 

He leaves. 

When the warmth is gone, the bile rises in your throat. Old habits die hard, you think, and you feel totally empty. You couldn’t go on like this. It was nights like these you began to feel like a martyr - sacrificing yourself for a brief escape. Because when the door is closed with a click and you’re alone again, you feel yourself trembling and your heart is glowing red in the empty astral plane. Brief, easy forms of pleasure are often the most harmful.

It feels haunted in here. You remember his words, and before you finally fall asleep, you wonder one thing. You wonder if you’re already dead.  _____________________________

The next day is a pain to overcome. You’re slightly hungover, slightly sore, and very uncomfortable. But you comply with your routine, and you enjoy the bus ride, and when you get to the office everyone greets you. 

 “Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Tina.

“Morning, Tina,” you mumble back.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Gerard. 

“Morning, Gerard,” you mumble back. 

“Morning, Y/n,” Wonwoo says. You look up from the carpet carefully, flashing him an apologetic smile. You hope he can read its intention: Sorry about being weird yesterday. You think he got it.

“Morning, Wonwoo.” 

And then you’re landing yourself at your own desk and beginning work once more. It’s boring, but today you ward off the daydreams and you focus, and you’re getting an exceptional amount done. 

The clock on the wall (off-white, but yellowing near the top) reads 12:28 when your boss, Stan, approaches your table. He’s half bald, and his suit is much too loose, and he has a ladder of wrinkles climbing his larger-than-life forehead. 

“Hey, N/n!” he calls, so loud that a couple of heads turn at the commotion. You’ve asked him several times not to call you that. 

“Stanley,” you breathe, tapping a stack of papers on your desk to neaten the pile. You wonder if you were in trouble, but if his smile is anything to go by, you’d guess not. 

“My favorite woman in accounting!” 

“Hehe,” you laugh half-heartedly. You catch the eye of Wonwoo, glancing over his shoulder with a small, teasing smile. You smile back. 

“I have a big- oh wait, wait, new guy, uhh, Jeon? Come over here real quick!” Suddenly his solid fingers waft the now scared Wonwoo over. The spectacled man’s shoulders hunch up as he moves off the chair, nodding respectfully. Wonwoo stands beside Stanley at your desk, and you focus your attention on Stanley, hoping to not get too lost in the idea of Wonwoo again - you were doing so good today. 

“I have a big job for you, and I thought you could work with Wonwoo on it,” Stan moves his hand up to cup the side of his mouth, as if telling you a big secret, “seeing as he was a bit of a star over in Wallingset.”

Shit. The guy you were daydreaming about was working with you? Wonwoo laughs, embarrassed, but you hardly have time to catch it. You can’t do this. Yesterday you were thinking about him fingering you while looking at you lovingly!

“We have a massive, new client! Just dropped a big competitor of ours, and they want us to do their six month report!” Stanley seems genuinely excited about this, so you can’t help feeling a little guilty that you’ll be a gobbering, slobbering mess, sitting beside Wonwoo on this. 

“That’s great-”

“I know! So, my two star members in accountancy, I’ll hand this off to you. The data should be coming into your emails soon,” without letting either of you react, Stanley hunches over, like a coach does before a little-league baseball game, wrapping his arms around both of you and Wonwoo. “You got this, troopers!” 

Stanley claps his hands on both of your backs, so hard you jerk forward at the movement, and then he bounces off to the elevator at the far end of the room. You sigh heavily from the interaction. It’s quiet for a moment, while you fiddle with the papers in front of you.

“What a guy,” Wonwoo muses finally, thin fingers resting on the edge of your desk. You giggle, unable to look him in the eye for fear that you might remember how you’d thought about starting a family with him. “Yeah.”

You and Wonwoo settle into an unoccupied meeting room, and it’s all very professional. Markers and post-its, trying to find the best way to structure the report, excel sheets to categorize and overlook data, double check numbers. 

However bad you think it’s going to be, you’re wrong. Wonwoo is easy to talk to - he’s quiet, but he’s intelligent, and he understands how to bring on conversation, even when you fold in on yourself like a used napkin. 

“Yeah, we used to steal signs from our neighborhood,” Wonwoo admits halfway into a conversation about your hometowns. “I don’t think that’s gonna fly anymore.” 

“Why stop now? You’re letting societal rules hold you back,” you joke, and the two of you laugh, and it’s so pathetic, you’re certain you haven’t laughed this much in years, and the conversation has lasted maybe 20 minutes. 

“Well, I could show you the craft, you know, it’s a delicate process-” 

While Wonwoo talks your phone buzzes and you absent-mindedly pick it up, reviewing the notification.

Your grin drops. Faintly, you hear Wonwoo stop talking. He tilts his head to study the way you frown at the screen. “What’s up?” he asks. 

It’s the guy from last night and he’s asking if you’ll be available again tonight. 

Maybe it’s how you could almost forget it - how you let yourself into positions that would hurt you, just to feel seen and heard and touched. Maybe it’s the dichotomy of that encounter and now, talking to Wonwoo, and having the laughter steal away the loneliness. But you’re reminded so terribly of your position. You’re reminded that this, too, will end, and that the loneliness will return. You’re reminded that once the shift ends, you’re alone again. 

Suddenly you’re a thousand daggers all pointing out. You shield yourself. 

“Uh,” you trail off, putting the phone down again. “Just some guy.” 

Wonwoo’s eyebrows raise. “Boyfriend?” 

“No!” you say quickly. “No, he’s, uh. Just some guy.” 

A pause. 

“Okay,” Wonwoo says. You don’t even remember where you left off the conversation. You bite your lip because everything is all agony. The table is cold and dead beneath your hand. 

“I’m thinking we group these together,” you say, eyes now tuned to your screen and fully submerged back into your work. Work. That was all that could cover your beaten down, cursed self. 

The rest of the shift you feel Wonwoo looking at you carefully, as if he’s trying to read you. You don’t talk about yourselves anymore, no more banter, no more witty comments. You structure the report, and try to ignore how his eyes laser you open. You don’t like it. You feel like he can tell you’re a pathetic, lonely woman and that you have nothing and no one. You feel like he can sense the curse upon you. 

This would be torture.  _____________________________

It is not torture. 

The next day, to your surprise, Wonwoo is nowhere to be seen. You wait 5, 10, then 15 minutes in the meeting room you’d camped in, before you begin working on your own. It’s slower without him, but you manage. 

You can’t help but slightly worry about him. It feels stupid. You know you’re putting too much emotion into a person you’d known for two days, but you can’t help it. You wonder if he’s gotten hurt or injured, or if maybe he hates you and has transferred back. You think even Excel finds you pathetic. 

You sit there for three hours, among the ruins of paperwork and your open laptop, running your hand through your hair and typing in sentences that mean nothing, and the wallpaper is off-white and yellowing at the top, and the blinds are closed to the meeting room. 

Around 1 PM the door to the meeting room is opened, wood smacking against the glass that surrounds it, and Wonwoo stands in the doorway, slightly out of breath. You snap your head up to him, like the jerk of a lifeless doll, suddenly interrupted from a very disorganized Excel sheet.

“Hi, shit, sorry,” he gasps, slinging his bag off of his shoulder to sit down next to you. 

“Are you okay?” you ask immediately, and Wonwoo nods blindly, pulling his laptop out of his bag. “Yeah,” he says, cheeks slightly flushed and licking his lips. “My cat- my cat needed surgery, she got sick last night, it was an emergency.” 

You nod in understanding, “it’s okay-” 

You can hardly get the words out before Wonwoo rolls his chair back, wheels resounding hollowly on the floor, so he can look at you clearly. “I’m really sorry about this, it was not nice of me to leave you alone with this.” He gestures vaguely to the scattered papers, and you shake your head.

“It’s okay, Wonwoo, I get it,” you say reassuringly, peering up at him through your lashes. “You don’t need to worry about it. You’re here now.” 

Wonwoo seems less intent on personal conversations today - it’s probably because he was so late, and now is trying to make up the time. But it’s okay, in fact you’re somewhat relieved, because it dampens the false hope that blooms in your chest, whenever he asks you about your life. 

Even if you and Wonwoo work hard and quietly, you slip into the late hours of the night in an attempt to keep on track for your schedule. Outside the windows that separate you from real life, the sky turns orange, and then dark, muted blue, and stars begin dotting its impressive stretches. People begin to leave around five, and by the time you and Wonwoo finish all your work, you’re the last ones left on your floor of the office. 

Wonwoo lets out a loud sigh when he finally finishes the second segment of your report, and the both of you slump back in your seats. 

“It’s so fucking late,” Wonwoo limply throws his hand in the direction of the window. You smile a little, looking out. Smaller buildings spawn geometrically from the ground, and every once in a while someone walks by with their dog, spotlighted by the stretch of street lamps that stand outside the parking lot. “I really am sorry about this, you know. Really ruined your night,” he says quietly. 

You shake your head. “It’s fine, I had nothing to come home to anyway.” 

There’s a pause.

Wonwoo looks at you intensely. Oh shit, you realize, was that too obvious? Was that too pathetic? Has it just clicked that you’re a loser that no one wants? You nervously look back at him, but there’s no malice in his eyes. A totally unreadable expression adorns his features, where he’s leaned back in his leather chair, legs spread invitingly. You look away, feeling dumb. 

“At least we followed our schedule!” you say. Wonwoo snorts.

“Yeah, thanks to you. If you hadn’t completed so much before I got here, it would’ve been hopeless.” 

Now it’s your turn to scoff, blushing lightly and looking at the linoleum flooring. “I don’t know about tha-” 

“Seriously, Y/n, just take the compliment,” Wonwoo reaches a hand over, and you watch its movement.

It’s like time slows down, not like the movies, no, like you can stop time with the heavy weight of your gaze, pinning his muscles in place. But you can’t, and it lands on your shoulder with a soft thud. Fuck. His hand is warm and alive on you. 

“You did so well today, I-” Wonwoo cuts himself off, because suddenly you’re trembling. 

He feels your body shuddering and jerking under his hand, like the wind rattles your door when you leave it open, and he can’t see your face behind a curtain of hair, but he hears you gasp, and, fuck, you look like you’re sobbing. 

The man from last night had become so hesitant when you reacted this way. When your body trembled and shook and when you cried, but Wonwoo seems to understand. He peers at you from above the rims of his glasses, and his hand stays put right there on your shoulder. 

“Y/n,” he whispers, so sincere it causes a pathetic squeak to escape you. What must he think of you? The thoughts spiral and you can’t control a single one of them, they dance like freed souls in your head, and you can’t stop the spasming of your muscles, and you know you look so pathetic beside him right. “Y/n, look at me.” 

You don’t. You can’t. You can’t because there are tears spilling from the rims of your eyes, and rolling down your cheeks, wet and glossy. Besides, you’re an ugly crier. 

“Look at me,” he says seriously, finger tightening on your shoulder. You try to steady your breath and calm your tears, before you obey and begin to turn your chair. The simple motion requires so much effort - it’s like the air has become so thick, that the friction against your leather seat slows you down. 

Finally you turn to him, eyes first resting on his knees, then, carefully, traveling up to his face. He’s frowning. 

Your face is reddened and your eyes are puffy, your cheeks are shiny and you chew your bottom lip in a futile attempt to keep the tears at bay. 

Wonwoo looks genuinely devastated. The hand on your shoulder softens its grasp, then begins petting your arm, rubbing up and down. The action has you choking out gasps, trembling even more in his hold, and Wonwoo feels the need to roll his chair closer to you, so his other hand can grab yours. His thumb rubs over the back of it, and he lowers his head to look at you. 

“Shh, relax, relax, Y/n,” he whispers, and you try to nod, but it’s so overwhelming; being touched, being seen, being heard, all at once. For months, maybe years, no one has touched you like this - as if they care. Now the feeling is foreign, so scorching hot on your arm and your hand, your body can’t take it anymore. You’re stuck between wanting to lean into his hands, wanting to feel how real you are, and how physically true your existence is, and wanting to shy away. What must he think of you? 

“Y/n,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut to banish the sigh of your sobbing. “When was the last time someone touched you?” 

You hiccup painfully. “Uhm- I- I don’t, ” your eyes are bleary and your lashes are wet. Your lip trembles and your whole body shakes when you try to breathe. 

Apparently this was enough of an answer for Wonwoo, because he suddenly stands, somewhat harshly tugging you into a standing position too, and pulls you directly into the harbor of his arms. 

Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his torso. His chest is pressed flat against yours, so, so warm, when he nudges your head into the crook of his neck, and presses his face against its side, sighing softly into you, and breathing warm air onto your hair. His palms push you into him, soothing your trembling body, and holding you like an anker. One hand travels up to your hair. 

“W-Wonwoo, you don’t have to-”

“Shh,” he quiets you immediately, voice the softest wind of a peach tree. “Just let me take care of you.” 

You do. Wonwoo holds you until you stop crying, and though it must’ve been twenty minutes or so, it feels like no time at all. Standing in his space, breathing in his dark cologne, and letting his heat thaw your dead heart is a totally timeless act. Joy and serenity flows from the places where your bodies touch. When you stop crying, Wonwoo holds you for longer. 

Eventually, he lets you go. 

You step back sheepishly, now much calmer and the red in your face faded. You wipe your tired eyes shyly with your sleeve. 

“Thank you, Wonwoo,” you mumble, voice thick and garbled. When you look up at him, he smiles softly, although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he says softly, arm extending one last time to squeeze your forearm. Then it falls limp again. 

“I, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” 

“Of course.” 

When you return home, you’re buzzing. Your entire apartment buzzes along with you, things seem to clatter and beam along with the bright, glowing of your heart. You snuggle into bed and nothing is still and even when you’re drifting into sleep, your nerve endings spin in joyful circles, and your feet are a static hum. Suddenly you are very, very real. _____________________________

You’d think the next day would be tense and awkward, and maybe it is at first, but soon enough you’re talking again, more intimately than before even. 

This is Wonwoo’s doing - you know this. You know he’s smart and you know he doesn’t want you to feel bad, so he makes conversation and builds trust between the two of you. You know he hopes you don’t feel insecure. Every word he says and every flick of his eyes is riddled with it. 

The conversation decidedly slows down your progress, so Wonwoo once more suggests staying overtime. You look at him for a moment before agreeing. 

You can’t tell what his end goal is. A chamber of your heart has been revived and rebirthed, and you’re more chipper, more bouncy, but the rest of your heart insists: you’re still cursed - eventually it’ll go back to how it should be. You listen. You try not to get your hopes up that Wonwoo really cares about you. Why should he, really?

Although when you’re done for the day, about an hour after your usual 5 PM, you stand up and begin to pack your things, laptop sliding into your bag and clustering pens in your hand. It’s gray outside, but the sun comes in a single strand through a gap in the smog and the clouds. The wind hoots by the windows, and it smells like the indian you ordered for lunch together. 

You stop your packing, feeling a set of eyes in your back. You twist your head to see him.

Wonwoo is sitting completely still in his chair, slack-covered legs spread open, and he makes no move to collect his own things. He just stares. 

“What’s up?” you quip. You’re slightly nervous. Just before it was all silly childhood stories, college and weed and life before the dead-end job. Now Wonwoo has that unreadable expression on his face again. 

He slowly lifts his hands from the armrest, eyes locked with yours, and claps his palms on the tops of his thighs. 

Your eyebrows furrow. 

“Wha-” 

“Come here,” he says simply. When you stand completely still, like a deer in the headlights, Wonwoo scoffs and rolls his eyes. “What? You think you’re cured because someone hugged you once?” 

“Cured?”

“You’re touch-starved, Y/n,” Wonwoo states matter-of-factly, “you need to be touched.” 

“Touch-starved?” you echo, a bewildered expression on your face.

“We can also just hug, like yesterday,” he suggests calmly. You envy his collectedness. “I just don’t want you to feel bad. So please. Come sit.”

To emphasize, Wonwoo pats his thighs again, patiently. You step away from your bag with hesitating steps, pursing your lips. Your cheeks blaze when you look at his thighs again - they’re so long, and the folds in his slacks stretch down and centralize on his crotch and- You’re being a pervert. 

“Okay,” you squeak and Wonwoo tuts. Why is that hot, you think, why the hell is that hot?

“We can just hug if you-” 

You feel bold.

Without letting him finish, you swing your leg over his, and plop down, straddling halfway down his thighs. You thank God you put pants on this morning instead of a skirt, when you look down at where you rest on top of him. 

Wonwoo is a little taken aback, but when you’ve settled on him, his hands find your waist and he looks up at you with a hum. Your breathing is a little shaky. Once again his hands provide a pumping of golden joy into your body, and more of you comes alive and becomes real, and you smile. 

What had Wonwoo been talking about? Touch-starved?

“What’s, um-” your question is cut off with a gasp, when Wonwoo uses his hands on your middle to tug you closer. You rest on the highest point of thighs that you can without sitting on his dick. Cheeks red and eyes squeezed shut, you hear how Wonwoo hums, pleased. “What were you talking about? Touch-starved?” you whisper, keeping your eyes shut. 

Wonwoo sighs, and once more, like the movement is entirely replayed, his hand finds your hair and pushes your face into the crook of his neck. You sigh against it, enjoying how his arms protect you and hide you from the evil of the world. 

“If you don’t touch anyone,” Wonwoo begins, his voice low bass in your ear, “you become touch-starved. That’s why you reacted the way you did yesterday.” 

His hands run up and down your sides. 

“But- but I’m not crying today,” you say quietly into his neck. Wonwoo hums.

“No, that’s good,” he says. “We can stop if you really want, I just wa-”

“No!” your voice squeaks immediately, and, as if he were running from you, you fist his shirt to keep him close. 

“Okay,” there’s a smile in Wonwoo’s voice. You can’t see it but you can imagine it. 

Comfortable silence. Wonwoo traces patterns on your back and you breathe deeply against the skin of his neck. The two of you function as one living thing, the only living thing left in the office. Chairs are turned halfway, a couple lights are left on. The desks betray the past presence of humans. 

“Wonwoo,” you pip. 

“Mhm?” 

“You don’t have to do this, you know? I don’t want you to do it if you- if it’s just.. Pity.” 

Wonwoo sighs, and you feel the way his torso deflates underneath you. He trails his hand up from your back to tap your cheek. You move back and look at him. 

Your faces are very close, you can feel how your exhales collide and then scatter, hell, you think you could count each of his eyelashes from here. 

“I already told you. I’m doing this because I don’t want you to feel bad. I-” he hesitates for a moment, pursing his lips. “I’ve been there. So I know what it’s like.” 

The thought of Wonwoo feeling like this, like you, is sickening. Genuinely sickening, you feel your insides turn to rot and mold and you frown so deeply, you think your lips might forever lock in that position. 

“I’m okay now,” he reassures, reading you immediately. His hand finds your cheek and he almost cries out at the way you lean into it blindly. 

“How did you-.. I- I always thought it was, like, a lifelong curse,” you say.

“A curse?” Wonwoo grins, thumb stroking over the skin of your cheek. It makes you happy, it makes you feel like your heart will burst. 

“Yeah. I guess I just blamed some old woman from my hometown,” you giggle, blushing a little because, yes, it did sound stupid when you weren’t just echoing the theory to yourself, like playing a team sport alone. 

“You’re not cursed,” Wonwoo promises, tucking your head into his chest. “I’ll help you, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you from now on.” 

He does take care of you. 

Every day you work overtime, and every day when you’re done with work, Wonwoo slides you into his lap and holds you, while you curl up in his chest. Then you talk and you laugh, and you listen to each other's music. His hands run warm up your back and in your hair and on your hips, gentle caresses, deeply intimate. For two weeks you and Wonwoo indulge in this nighttime ritual. 

You have not felt lonely since that night. And Wonwoo can tell. Your skin is warmer and brighter, you smile wider, your eyes twinkle, and there’s energy in every movement. Your body thaws under his warm hands every night, and sometimes when you smile, he gets so happy he could kiss you. 

You realize you like Wonwoo one particular night when you’re falling asleep in your bed and you can still feel the ghost of his arms around you and it lulls you into a deep, dreamless sleep, and when you wake up you smell a little bit like his cologne. That’s how you realize. You like how considerate and how gentle he is, you like how sweet he is to you, you like how he looks when he smiles and when he laughs and you like how much he loves his cat. You like how his arms feel wrapped around you. 

And you like him, and suddenly your apartment is a song that you dance in, and every photo on your walls is smiling and your bed is always warm and so is your heart. 

There’s nothing dead in here, you think, when you cook a delicious meal on the stovetop, sauce bubbling in a stainless steel pan. Nothing haunted about your home or your heart. _____________________________

“We’re almost done.” 

“Mhm.” 

“I can’t believe we’re almost done!” 

Wonwoo looks up, bemused, lips made small and pointed. You’re staring at the almost-done document, scrolling up and down through long and arduous paragraphs. It’s nighttime again - not that you had to stay late today, it was a choice - and the city glimmers brilliantly in the coolness. You and Wonwoo wear sweaters to keep warm. 

“Feels like a lifetime,” Wonwoo murmurs, same smile upon his beautiful face. His cheekbones point out from beneath his skin. 

“Yeah,” you breathe, leaning back. You won’t put your fingers back on the keyboard. Not when it could be done so soon. You look at him, all snuggled up in a brown sweater. “What if..” 

A pause. He tilts his head.

“Well, are we still gonna talk?” you chew your lip dejectedly, feeling a little sad and desperate, but Wonwoo only laughs. It’s a beautiful sound, it’s one you associate with joy. 

“Of course,” he says, as his laughter quiets down. “If you want to.” 

A shy smile forms on your lips. You turn to look back at the computer, but you hear the now-familiar sound of Wonwoo patting his thighs. You flit your eyes back to him, teasingly scolding.

“We’re not done.” 

“We don’t have to be done now,” he shrugs, an equally teasing smile on his lips. You roll your eyes, but, unsurprisingly, you shift over to him, sitting down in his lap. He immediately tugs you closer, fingers searching for stimulation on the seams of your jeans. There’s something different about Wonwoo today, you realize, his touch is more feverish, his fingers dig deeper into the fat of your hips and he looks up at you like you’re a diamond-encrusted chandelier, hanging from the ceiling, all glittering jewels. 

“What’s up?” you giggle nervously. It’s becoming hard to breathe with the way he paws at your hips. 

There’s something in the air between you, but maybe you’re imagining it. Maybe it’s your mind playing tricks on you, concocting the magnetic pull that lingers between you, the thicker, heavier air, that urges you closer. 

He sighs heavily, as if he was dreading this. All of a sudden composed, cool, icy Wonwoo is chewing his lip and avoiding your eyes, looking instead down where your fat gives way for his needy fingers. 

“I, uh, I really like you, Y/n,” his voice shakes. “Would you. Maybe. Want to go out some time?” 

At the last syllable his gaze locks on to yours, and you watch him visibly relax, because you’re fucking grinning. 

Not maliciously, not crudely, not a dime or a dab of evil, only genuine joy. 

“I-I would like that,” you control your smile, pointing your lips in the same way that Wonwoo does and blushing all over. Wonwoo grins too and it’s unbearably boyish. 

“Okay,” he says, as if he can’t believe it. “Okay. Great.” 

The window slams shut, the spell is undone by his hand, the dead defy their only law to bow to his necromancy. Wonwoo is alive and warm underneath you, and you are alive and warm on top of him, thighs pushed up against his and tugging at the fabric of his shirt. Your balloon of heart pops in your chest, and the bone-cage of your chest is filled with helium, that has you floating. Rosy and shiny, your heart beats at twice its normal speed.

There’s a lull in the conversation. It would’ve been a more comfortable silence, if you couldn’t see by how Wonwoo looks down and purses his lips, that he’s itching to say more. 

Sparked by his confession, you confidently snake your hand up to tap his cheek lazily. He turns to you with a loafy smile. “What is it?” 

He breathes out unsteadily.

“You’re-” he closes his eyes. “There’s so much I like about you. It- It makes me feel really bad that you weren’t feeling well, so I-” 

He cringes at himself, one hand pushing away his glasses to rub the eyes underneath them. 

“Can I make you feel better?” he asks vaguely. 

You huff out a laugh. “Are you trying to ask if I want to have sex?” 

He laughs too, behind his big hand. “No. It’s not the same, I want it to be about you!” 

You laugh more, and Wonwoo’s face reappears as he lowers his hand. He looks up at you adoringly, dotingly. He’s smiling.

“I’m being serious,” he says quietly, when you finish. He seems less embarrassed now, more so smug. “I want to make you feel good.” 

He’s paying an awful lot of attention to your hips, which he has not let up massaging and squeezing roughly. 

“Can I..?” he begins, eyes fixed on your hips in his lap. “Can I make you cum?” 

Then, slowly, Wonwoo lifts his hands and gently places them around on your face. His touch is always as soft as a hope-laced wind. He’s warm and he’s alive and he’s holding onto you, and you see it in his eyes: you’re real, you’re right underneath my fingertips. 

“Please.”

That’s all he needs, before he presses his lips against yours.

The kiss is everything you want it to be; because it’s loving. It’s slow, it’s deep, it’s gentle, there’s no tongue, just the soft, warm, real, alive flows of his lips against your own. His hands on both of your cheeks caress your cheekbones gently, and warm air is spilled in the small space between you. He pulls away, panting. 

“I don’t understand it,” he mumbles, before he’s pressing his lips back to yours hungrily. You let out a confused hum, and you have to gently push at his shoulder to back him off again. “What do you mean?” you ask.

“Why you were so alone,” he breathes, transfixed on your lips. “I want to be with you all the time.” 

Before you can respond, Wonwoo grips the underside of your thighs, lifting you and himself from the chair and placing you on the desk. You gasp at the impact when the glass table meets your bottom, and Wonwoo is standing over you, suddenly so tall and so broad, and slimming at the waist. His narrow eyes become hooded behind the reflection of his glasses. His head is tilted down to meet yours.

“Can I take off your clothes, pretty?” 

You don’t answer, only grip the edge of your shirt, tugging it over your head, so your bra-clad chest is exposed to him. He groans at the sight. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles, nimble fingers dancing across your back to unclip the bra, sucking in a harsh breath the fabric becomes loose, sliding down your arms. “Such a pretty girl.” 

“Stop,” you whisper, face warm and red. Your heart has never beat this way. It’s utterly unbearable and addicting at the same time, it’s without rhythm or class, it’s wild. And it’s because he’s looking at you and it’s not just lust. It’s adoration. There are deeper strings to the make-up of his eyes, there are lines connected to his heart, and he’s all flushed.

“What?” he asks. “I’m just telling you the truth.” 

Wonwoo throws your bra on the floor next to him, hands finding the hem of your pants. “Can I take your pants off?” 

You nod, still so shy and abashed, because Wonwoo’s eyes feel like a pink spotlight, and you are bathed in its warmth. He unbuttons your pants and you gently slide off the table to work them off your legs. 

“Your panties are cute,” Wonwoo remarks (it should feel lewd, but he has a hand on your hip, that brushes the bone and he smiles at it). “Thank you,” you breathe, before you’re taking them off too.

Wonwoo doesn’t need to, but he still insists on gently lifting you back onto the table, and he kisses your nose when you’re sitting before him. He’s standing in between your legs, and then he’s looking down at where wetness drips onto the glass table. 

His hand slides down your stomach, resting on the fat of it. He’s smiling, he’s so gorgeous, because he’s smiling the most gentle smile at how wet you are and how it leaks onto the table and his hand is so warm on your stomach, doing nothing, yet turning you on even more than you’d ever been before.

He sighs like he’s carrying the greatest burden on his broad back. “You’re so pretty,” he says, almost exasperated by it. He pinches some of the fat of your stomach between his fingers lovingly. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this.” 

Then the hand on your stomach slides down further. His large, veiny hand cups your pussy, the tips of his fingers just barely teasing your hole. You whimper against him, hands finding his biceps for support. Wonwoo studies you, craning his neck down to peer at your face, while his fingers begin swaddling your folds. 

“You’re so wet, baby,” he mumbles, trying to catch your eye where you bury into his chest. One finger dips into your hole, penetrating slowly and settling knuckle-deep. 

“Wonnie!” you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Mmm, clenching down on Wonnie’s finger so hard. My beautiful girl.” 

He begins pushing his finger in and out of you, pace slow and torturous. His other hand slides up and down your body, squeezing your waist then your thigh, then coming right back up to fondle your chest. He pushes your back flat against the glass, so you’re all splayed out for him and you watch him from there, eyes hooded and legs spread to accommodate him. He breathes in shakily at the sight of you. 

“Shit, Y/n. What were you doing hiding all this from me?” His finger picks up the pace, as another finger slips in alongside it. You’re moaning and panting, lips red and hair mussed, unable to focus on his words, when his fingers curl against that spongy spot inside you. Apparently Wonwoo expects an answer though, because he speaks again, voice lower and rougher. “Hm? You didn’t want to go have lunch? What, was it that guy?”

“W-What?” 

“Just some guy,” Wonwoo echoes your past words, emphasizing with a harsh thrust of his fingers. 

“N-No, I- Hng!” you cry out, when Wonwoo’s thumb presses onto your clit. He rubs it torturously. “I-I was embarrassed because I- I was thinking about you!” 

“Oh?” this catches Wonwoo’s attention, as he diligently works his hand within you, staring down at your naked form, fully clothed and tall. “Tell me what you were thinking about, baby.” 

“This!” you cry out, too high off the pleasure to really feel embarrassed about it.

“Pretty, sweet, dumb baby. You were thinking about you whimpering and writhing while I fuck you with my hand, hm?”

“N-No,” you mumble, cheeks aflame. “W-Was thinking about you l-liking me.” 

At this Wonwoo hastily leans over you, pressing his lips onto yours again, and this time his tongue pries open your mouth, wet and warm in the cavern of your mouth. You moan into the kiss, hips canting into his hand. There’s something so desperate about him then, something so eager in the way he crooks his fingers, and how he kisses you, panting and covering your face in warm air. You feel a tight knot in your stomach.

“Cum on my fingers, please, pretty, sweet, baby, darling,” he mumbles into your mouth, rushing out the words before he’s sealing your lips again. 

“God, I think I might fall in love with you.” 

That makes you cum. You cum so fucking hard, clenching around his fingers like an air-tight seal, and your cum spills onto his fingers and his name spills into his mouth. The curse comes out with it, escaping like the air that spills out from an ancient, rediscovered chamber, and dissipating into the night. Your heart is beating and you’re breathing into his mouth, nose brushing his. 

“Good girl,” he breathes, finally releasing your lips and letting his lips fall heavy and wet on your cheek. 

He pulls out his fingers, unbearably wet and slick, and you think for a second that he’ll let you calm down and then maybe he’ll put his dick in you, but as soon as the fingers are out of you, they’re settling back on to your clit, rubbing heavy-handed circles.

You whine, arching your back off the table and wiggling your hips at the overstimulation. His other hand catches your hip and he shushes your cries softly. 

“You can cum again, can’t you, baby? You can take it,” he says, so nonchalantly, while his slick fingers rub you. You cry out. Your legs are shaking. “Think you can cum again from just this?”

“Y-Yes,” you sigh and when you look down, his entire hand covers your pussy, as he pets your clit in circles. He smiles at your words, pinching your clit teasingly. It causes a squeak to escape you, hips struggling against his hold, where he pins you to the table.

“Good girl,” he praises, purring. “Letting me use your pretty pussy like this, letting me make you feel good.” 

His body in front of you prevents your legs from closing, but, God, do they try, knees pinching his thin waist, and hair bunching up on the glass when your face scrunches up in pleasure. 

“A-a-ah!” you cry out. Your hips involuntarily begin to inch away from him, but Wonwoo pulls you back with one strong hand, tutting. 

“Don’t do that,” he mutters, pouting. “You need to be touched, remember?” 

The whole thing is so heart-achingly intimate. The way he stands, still fully clothed and with a huge fucking tent in his pants, simply rubbing your pussy and looking at you with heart-eyes. Seriously, eyes swimming with adoration for you, teasing words slipping from his mouth unable to mask the genuine wonder he feels, at how you gasp and you arch and you clean and you jerk from the simplest of his movements. And your pussy is so warm and wet under his hand, and his body between your legs is so warm, and you cum again from just that; from how much love he looks at you with, and from the fingers crooking to pinch your clit again, wet and swollen underneath his glistening fingertips. 

“W-Wonwoo!” you cry out, cumming again, and your body convulses around his, when it oozes out of your hole. Wonwoo’s fingers gently work you through it. His gaze on you is so intent, so careful and insistent, you can’t bear it, the way he sees you totally lost in the pleasure he brings you. 

“There you go,” he whispers gently, fingers letting up and disappearing from your pulsating pussy. 

“Wonwoo,” you mewl tiredly, pushing yourself onto your elbows to look up at him. He looks at you, so sweetly, so attentively, hands immediately finding your back to stabilize you. “Can I please have your cock now?” 

“We don’t have to-” 

“I want to!” you interrupt him, brows furrowed and lips in a pout. Wonwoo grins at that and though he may deny it, you don’t miss the red that twinges his cheeks. 

“It’s just if you were too tired..-” 

“I’m not,” you say decidedly, and Wonwoo nods. 

“Okay. C’mere then.” 

You’re confused when Wonwoo sits back down in the office chair, fingers working his slacks open. He doesn’t answer to your grimace though, only manages his pants unzipped and in one lift of his hips, peel both them and his boxers down. 

His cock springs free, and your confused grimace is replaced with one of awe. It’s pale and veiny, the head is red and thin, white liquid oozes from it, like melted candle wax. And it’s huge.

You’re too slow to mask your amazement, it seems, because when your eyes return to his face, he’s already looking at you, smiling smugly. 

“Come ride me, baby.” 

You don’t need to be told twice. You slide off the table eagerly, lumbering over to where he’s relaxed against the back of the chair. He looks up at you, all naked and pretty, with a grin. 

The top buttons of his dress shirt are unbuttoned, but he must’ve given up halfway. Either way, the milky plates of his chest are exposed, shining gloriously in the warm office light, and he discards his glasses, face fully exposed to you. He’s beautiful, and you think to tell him.

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, planting each leg around his, so you’re straddling him. Like your ritual, Wonwoo grips your middle and pulls you closer, but this time it’s even closer than normal. Your stomach meets his dick, all heavy and hot on your skin, and your breath hitches at the sensation. 

“You’re beautiful,” he teases, looking up at you. You smile. 

“Can I put it in?” you ask. 

“As if the answer was ever gonna be no?” 

You snort out a laugh, raising yourself by your thighs and gripping the base of his dick to steer him inside. He hisses at the feeling of your hand grappling with his impressive size, and he hisses once more when the head of his cock buries into your heat. 

His hands on your waist anchor himself while you slowly sink down, until he’s so fully sheathed in you, you think the tip of his cock must be brushing your heart, because it feels like it’s swinging in your chest. 

“You’re so big,” you whimper, clutching his broad shoulders, and scrunching the fabric on top of them. 

“Don’t say shit like that, I’m gonna cum, babe,” he grits out, fingers bruising your waist. You mewl, clutching his shirt. Then you begin to bounce. 

Your thighs flex on either side of him as you heave up and down his cock, the both of you gasping into each other, and clutching each other for stability. 

“Shit,” he pants out, genuinely out of breath. “Fuck, you’re the loveliest girl in the world.”

You cry out, pressure already welling in your stomach and burying yourself in his neck like you’ve always done, and it’s so intimate and he’s warm, and, fuck, he wants you. You can feel it in his grip, in his cock, in his words; he wants you more than anything. The thought makes you wanna cum. 

Wonwoo is not quiet at all. He grunts and whines and his words are strangled and garbled, but frequent, showering you in affection and praise, while you bounce eagerly on his huge cock. 

“You’re so pretty, baby.” 

“Your tits are so perfect, shit.”

“Pretty girl.” 

“Loveliest, prettiest, sweetest girl, bouncing on my cock, fuck.”

Praises spill from his lips in purrs, one after another, and when you cum you can’t help but return it tenfold. 

“Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonnie, fuck! Gonna- fucking cum, I think I’m- f-falling in love with you”

You and Wonwoo come alive. Cum spurts from his cock and into your pussy, and you both cry out, entangled and completing one another in the space where you meet. 

And it’s true, falling in love with him is so easy. And falling in love with you is easy too, you realize, because the second he’s spilled his cum in you, he pulls you from his neck to kiss you so deeply, so thoroughly, you think your lips might never unpuff from his hasty, bitten kisses. 

His cock, now soft, still inside you, his warm chest against yours, his nose nudging yours, his eyelashes fluttering against your skin, the kiss is totally perfect, and you’re warm, and the windows are all closed and fogged up and there’s no curse other than the most fatal and most perfectly tantalizing of them all: love. 

You are not alone. You’re sitting in his lap and you think if you give it a day or two more, you might want to spend the rest of your life with him. 

You catch your breaths. 

“You’re really good at that,” you say finally. He grins again, perfectly undone, hair tousled and cheeks flushed. “Yeah?” he asks. You hum. 

After some minutes of keeping him inside you, kissing lazily, running your hands over his pretty chest and arms, you pull back, beginning to flex your legs to pull him out of you. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, hands wafting to still your movements. You furrow your brows, confused. 

“Am getting your dick out of me?” 

His hands sink down on your hips heavily, fully encompassing his dick again. You sigh at the feeling. 

“Don’t do that, silly. You’re touch-starved, remember?” 

He tilts his head teasingly. 

“So why don’t you just sit snug on my cock, so you can get all the closeness you need?”

[ashton-sano]

Addicted to you, Dontcha know That You're toxic~?

Now Playing🎼♬ ♪ ♫: Blue Lock boys as boyfriends: Red/Beige flag edition

(Beige flag, if you’re not already aware, is someone whose behavior isnt exactly toxic but not entirely healthy or normal either)

Characters Included: Oliver Aiku, Micheal Kaiser, Otoya Eita, Tabito Karasu(Lowkey my man), Ryusei Shidou with Bonus! Sae Itoshi

*Note: these all happen to be characters I'm a bit bad at writing for so do bear with me :3

Been a while, hope ya likey! Tell me whatcha want more of. I'm gonna keep up the Blue Lock content because season 2 has me in a chokehold :3

Oliver Aiku (His is kinda cheating since it focuses more on before you were dating, my bad)

%Oliver Aiku, who was a highkey weirdo when you first met him, his person surrounded by a myriad of women after a particularly good game when his gaze landed on you. He approached and was stunned at your indifference, provoked to get your number regardless. It took a lot of asking Groveling to get it from you, a jab at his pride but he’ll live. Even after the first couple of months of meeting him, you can’t say your opinion of him would stray much 

%Oliver Aiku who can’t stop staring at you, just locked onto your features. You’re such a vision, the thought of you can’t leave his brain even as he sits with someone else. He spends hours awake just letting his mind wander to you, envisioning what you’d look like in his arms, what you’d look like under him, what face you’d pull as he’s taking you in this very bed

%Oliver Aiku with a Mountain of pride, that shakes and buckles at the idea of you rejecting him. The thought of someone else having you does more to him than you not feeling the same way. He’s determined to have you, even if he forsakes parts of himself for you. He’ll make himself seen around you more often, he puts more thought into how he speaks and acts around you, and he's more protective when it comes to the men who speak to you, even going as far as to flirt intensely. You mindlessly brush it off as his usual antics so much that you miss the way his eyes fixate on you as though you’re the only thing in his world

% Oliver Aiku who is a pretty sweet boyfriend all things considered. You consume so much of his time that he can’t find any to look at others, although he still has his Casanova ways. He teases you for your jealousy but never agrees with you, always stating that his heart is as good as yours, no question. Which he ends up proving in more ways than one. (Freak -.-)

Micheal Kaiser (Clap it up for me guys, I can’t stand this man but i’ll write for him for your enjoyment)

%Micheal Kaiser who has severe affection issues and effectively avoids any from you. It's confusing since he always initiates but at a safe distance, so he’ll flirt and play prince by kissing your hand and junk but can’t cope with the thought of holding each other tenderly and just existing for one another. It takes a lot of unpacking and patience to get him to be more comfortable with affection so intimate and raw with you. 

%Micheal Kaiser who only tones down his superiority complex when you come to watch his practice/games. This comes with a story.  At first, he was about as stuck up as usual with his respective teammates and you decided to visit his practice since you had the time. Unaware of his rivalry, you strike up a conversation with Isagi between breaks. Safe to say he wasn’t happy. God forbid you two exchange numbers; all hell breaks loose. After that petty fight, you swore you’d never come to visit him if he kept harassing his younger. His team thanks you for rounding him out with that threat as practice has gone much smoother since then

%Micheal Kaiser who talks to you in German when he’s sure you can't hear him i.e. sleeping, distracted, etc. It's weird because he knows you aren't listening and still can’t bring himself to say it in English. It’s typically romantic rambles or sweet l love you’s. Either way, it's always cute when he mutters a string of his native tongue to you. You won't tell him when you can hear him, or that you’ve picked up on what he’s saying, no way he’d admit it

%Micheal Kaiser who is iffy about how you interact with Ness in particular. Mainly because you aren’t fond of how he treats the poor boy and end up doting on him. That in turn makes him harsher on Ness which keeps biting him in the ass. After months of this merry-go-round, this stubborn king finally concedes to easing up on Ness as long as you quit giving him so much of your time. He might explode from the bubbling jealousy when you even mention your worry about another

(I believe in pathetic! and whipped! Kaiser because he radiates that energy, argue with the wall-3-)

Otoya Eita + Tabito Karasu (…..yes, I believe in Bi! Karasu and Otoya, they just seem like the type to be gay for each other specifically. I just feel like they’d be better as a throuple rather than individually, they already get along well so why not.)

=3Otoya Eita + Tabito Karasu! who have such a weird compatibility overall, god knows how they landed a stable relationship. Karasu carried when it came to confessing cause Otoya is no short of a moron with it. Karasu had been conditioning the albino for a month now to keep him from saying anything dumb and ruining the whole thing with his foolish womanizer ways

=3Otoya Eita + Tabito Karasu! who love on you in such drastically different ways. Tabito’s affection is warmer and gentler as he applies more thought to his moves and speaks in turn, he lacks technical experience but makes up for it with attentiveness, finding weak points isn't his strong point in soccer alone ya know. Otoya takes on a less careful route, he does what comes naturally, some from what worked in previous relationships. It has earned him a few berating sessions so he strays away from it these days.

=3 Otoya Eita + Tabito Karasu! who get along typically but nearly always fight over you. Insisting their methods are better than one another, you've been caught between several of these battles before. Then again, getting sandwiched between them as they please you from both angles wasn't a bad place to be, they'd even compete to see who makes you louder. It was akin to a game to them, which almost makes you wonder how much they actually care to compete. Perhaps they just need an excuse to manhandle you as a tag team.

=3 Otoya Eita + Tabito Karasu! who decimate any guy that dares to approach you. Karasu will make certain to pick out each flaw he spots and poke fun while Otoya eggs him on with a smirk; the both of them looking down on the man with disgust and heckle him till he screws off. This has in fact gotten you kicked out of several restaurants, which then leads to you scolding them and they insist it won't happen again….did that guy just stare at your ass? 

Ryusei Shidou

=3 Ryusei Shidou! who is 16 shades of insane right down to his feet. Nothing he says is classified as normal, no matter his true implications. You’re subject to filthy jokes whenever, god forbid you wear anything particularly eye-catching to him; It's all over. He's certain to let you know how fine he finds you and if that means ass smacks or pervy comments, he’ll do it without question.

=3 Ryusei Shidou! who has a weird obsession with Sae that you're not sure if you should bring up. You don't mind the redhead and as a matter of fact, you two get along swimmingly since you both remain on a similar degree of apathy that (gets him off) he enjoys. Most time spent with him is Sae sending his regards and applauding your resolve. The three of you together is heaven to the blonde, it's actually weird. You two could be berating him and his smile would be a mile wide. Please don't ask him what he’s picturing, it's not worth knowing.

=3 Ryusei Shidou! With bonus: Sae Itoshi! A Threesome with the three of you would be like; it makes him explode? just thinking about it. Perhaps he’d want you two to have your fun while he watches, just forced to watch and watch till it aches. Then again he’s too impatient and would get hasty. The look you two would give him makes him shiver down to his toes. No doubt you'd edge and force him to the brink over and over without relenting just to teach him to be patient if he wants to be rewarded. This freak would never learn and do it again just for the attention. Someone sedate this man…and me for writing this ig.

=3 Ryusei Shidou! w/ Sae Itoshi! who somehow became a throuple without realizing it??? Like neither you nor Sae are quite sure when but soon enough you all were exclusive and naked in bed covered in each other's marks. You two mesh well, it's just annoying how big and smug the perv’s grin is when he wakes up, was the bastard planning it all along?! The morning after was some harsh whiplash, especially with how natural it felt. 

Bonus (no, I don't have favorites…)

 Ryusei Shidou! who just can't get enough of having his two favorite people around. He doesn't have to play soccer just to harass Sae, he can do it right at home! Best of both worlds if you ask him. With Sae Itoshi! who puts up with it because you're so sensible, he almost wants to date just you at times with how pestering Shidou gets. He actually makes good conversation with you which is a breath of fresh air from the demon attached to his hip. And Y/N! who learns to grow fond of Sae, it's easy to see why Ryusei likes him. One thing for certain, you know to never tell Shidou that, you’ll never wipe the smile from his face and no amount of glaring and harsh comments from you two is rocking him off his high horse.

(I definitely got carried away. I like Ryusae Throuple a lot, it scratches my brain. If you want more of it, maybe I could make some exclusive headcanons?)

Property of ©ashton-sano; Don't post my content on any other platform without credit; much love^^

[lipglossanon]

Because

☆───── ⋆⋅🐾⋅⋆ ─────☆

puppy!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

Shoutout to all of those who gave me the inspo! There are many anons and mutuals; the few I can remember are 🐶 anon, @rusty-phasma, and 🪷 anon

big kisses to everyone not listed as well; you guys are all amazing and thank you for encouraging me! 😭 💜

Warnings: 18+, puppy!leon, hybrid!leon, pet/owner dynamics, eager Leon, switch Leon, kissing, licking, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), collar and leash play, mounting, knotting, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, reader says no but doesn’t really mean it so slight noncon if that’s triggering

Not proofread ✍️

Title from Because by Alice Cooper (cover of the original Beatles version)

☆───── ⋆⋅🐾⋅⋆ ─────☆

“He’s so cute!”

“Oh, he’s just adorable.”

“What’s his name?”

You let the chatter of strangers disappear into the background when bypassing the mall’s pet shop window as you walk to the parking garage. 

“Thinking about adopting him?”

High pitched laughter, “With those list of issues, no way!”

“Thought you said he was cute!”

“He is, just not that cute.”

Frowning to yourself, you turn to see what new addition they added to the storefront to garner so much attention. 

Oh.

He is cute. 

You glare at the retreating backs of the group of people laughing and giggling as they walk away from the window.  You step closer, now that you’re able, and just watch the hybrid as he tinkers with something in his hands. He looks really sweet, blue eyes almost shielded by his sandy blonde fringe. 

You step a little closer and he tilts his head to the side before raising it all the way to look up at you. He smiles, floppy ears perking up on his head as his tail wags. Internally, you’re yelling at yourself not to do it, but you find yourself looking down at the little page of information taped to the glass. 

“Leon, huh?” you murmur, eyes glancing over at him before going back to the paper. 

You can understand why they were snickering to themselves; he’s never had an owner and looks like there’s still a lot of room for improvement since he’s not fully house broken yet. Your eyes skim through the rest, but it’s just height, weight, etc. 

Turning back to him, you see that he has moved closer to the glass, eyes watching you excitedly. 

“Leon,” you mouth at him and he nods, stepping up to the window and placing his hands on it. 

Sighing to yourself, you hope you don’t regret this later, you place your hand on the glass with him repeating the gesture. 

You smile at him and his tail wags back and forth so fast it’s almost a blur. 

“Hi.”

You adopt Leon on the spot, probably the most spontaneous thing you’ve ever done in your life. The clerk helps you with all of the paperwork, happy the hybrid wouldn’t be stuck here too long. He informs you of the do’s and don’ts of hybrid care, giving you a folder full of information as well as a little duffle of items.

“He’s excitable so you’ll have some issues with him trying to run off. I’d keep him leashed til you get home,” the clerk hands you a leash, leading you to the back where Leon was taken as you filled out the application. 

“Hi,” his smile makes one appear on your face. 

“Hi, Leon, you’re coming home with me today.”

He dashes across the room startling you as he pulls you into a bear hug. 

“I’m so lucky, you’re so pretty and smell so good, and—“

“Leon,” the clerk’s firm voice cuts him off, quickly slipping a collar on his neck. 

Leon’s ears droop and he scuffs the floor with his shoe, “Sorry miss.”

“It’s okay,” you murmur where the clerk can’t hear, “I know you’re just happy.”

His ears perk up and tail starts to wag, “Yeah, yeah I really am.”

Leon bares his neck to you for you to snap the leash clip on his collar. He preens as you lead him out of the store and through the mall. Luckily you were headed home to begin with, so taking Leon straight there isn’t an issue. He behaves the entire drive home much to your relief, a little worried about what the clerk meant by excitable.

You find yourself falling into an easy pattern with Leon; he’s a fast learner, so he adapted to your routine pretty quickly. The housebroken issue resolved itself (he just never lived with anyone before so they had to say that on the form). He enjoys having his own separate room and loves taking baths. 

Leon even helps with chores around the house so by the time you’re home from work, you can cook a light meal for the two of you and relax on the couch. He always waits for you by the door, eagerly pressing against you and licking your neck and face in greeting. 

Today’s routine jars you when coming home, there isn’t a happy Leon waiting at the door. Frowning to yourself, you kick off your shoes and drop your bag on the counter. 

“Leon?” you call out.

Walking further into the house, you pass by your half closed door and hear whining. You pause and peek past the door frame, surprise making your eyes wide. 

Discarded knotting toys from the pet shop lay scattered all over the floor— obviously used recently as they’re all dripping with jizz. Looking over you can see Leon completely naked on the bed, buried in a pile of your clothes as he ruts into a toy. He looks fucked out already, hazy eyed and tongue lolled out, panting. 

“Leon,” you murmur, stepping inside the room. 

“Miss owner,” he whines, tail thumping against the bed, tears making his blue eyes seem bigger, “‘m sorry for making a mess. Hurts.”

Your heart beats fast as you take in his pitiful face. 

“It’s okay, it looks like a rut or heat of some kind,” you keep your voice soft, stepping up to the bed to ruffle his ears. 

He whines again, pressing up into your touches as hips keep humping into his toy, before looking at you with big eyes, “Oh no, oh I’m—“

He growls and you watch as his cock knots the toy, cum bubbling out of the sleeve until it’s spilling down the sides and coating your shirts and panties underneath. 

“Leon,” you watch dumbfounded as he ruts down, smearing the cum across your underwear specifically. 

“Smell so good, miss,” he moans, dilated eyes staring at the hem of your skirt, “makes me wanna—”

“No, Leon,” your voice is firm, “the toys are okay, but you can’t be… doing this every time, okay? This is my bed and clothes and it’s just inappropriate.”

He whimpers, head ducking down as he shrinks in on himself. 

Your hand hesitates but you softly brush his fuzzy ears, “Hey, I’m not mad, Leon. We just need to learn boundaries, okay? This is a very,” you pause trying to think of a way to say it. 

“Personal moment,” you gently move his head to look up at you, “I don’t want you to feel bad for something natural.”

“Not mad?” he sniffles, tail sluggishly wagging. 

You smile and pet him more, “Not mad, baby. You’re such a good boy for me.”

He smiles through his tears, “Love being your good boy, miss.”

Your eyes drop to the mess covering your sheets and he flushes hotly. 

“I’m gonna clean it up, just,” he trails off embarrassed, “I have to wait for my knot to go down.”

“That’s okay,” you stroke his ears one last time and step back, walking to the door, “I’ll go make dinner, just clean up and meet me at the table.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmurs, tail beating against the bed. 

A week goes by and there isn’t another incident, although you’re sure you’re missing some clothing items but you can’t for the life of you figure out what. 

Leon’s whines and whimpers can be heard throughout the house late at night, disrupting your sleep but you don’t have the heart to tell him to stop. He’s already mentioned how painful it can be if he goes too long without any relief. 

After endless google and Reddit searches, you’re at your wits end on how to help. The answers are all over the place but all agree that the toys are a temporary fix. You stumble across a thread run by hybrids themselves with much more informative and helpful answers. You bite the bullet and post your question to the page under a throwaway account. In no time at all, you have dozens then hundreds of replies. 

Aside from the silly joke or meme answers, you get a lot of information, all of it basically saying you should offer your hybrid help with his rut. A simple handjob can stave off urges for weeks at a time. You bite your thumb nail as you read the more steamy answers, feeling a pulse of arousal throb in your clit at picturing Leon in such a way.  

You hold off but by the end of the second week of Leon looking miserable, you finally cave and offer to help him (your own bubbling arousal and curiosity peaking). His eyes light up and you gesture for him to sit down on the couch. 

“Only my hand, Leon. And if you misbehave then you’re going to be sent to your room.”

“Promise I’ll be a good boy,” he nods so hard one of his ears flip backwards making you giggle. 

He smiles at you and licks your cheek, “So pretty, miss owner.”

“Leon,” you roll your eyes feeling shy, “sit next to me so I can help you.”

He quickly undresses and sits down, thigh pressing against yours, legs easily falling open as his cock bobs and leaks everywhere. 

Whining, he nuzzles into your shoulder, “s’this okay?”

You hum, “Yeah, you’re okay, Leon.”

Your hand reaches out and grasps his hot throbbing dick, making him arch up with a sigh. Biting your lip, you try to ignore how much you’re getting turned on from this. 

“Thank you,” he mouths at your skin, “thank you so much, promise to be so good for you.”

You suppress the shiver those words give you and slowly stroke along his thick cock. 

“You’re really big,” you mutter out loud before thinking twice. 

He groans, “That’s good, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you laugh softly, “it’s very good, means you’ll feel good inside someone.”

His cock kicks in your hand, globs of precum dripping from the tip to coat your fingers. You lick your lips and tease across his fat tip, coaxing more precum to dribble out. 

He pants and whines into your shoulder as you tease him, dragging out your quick handjob into something that edges him for hours. 

He’s slurring and whining against you, shoulder and neck soaked with his spit as he laps and licks at the skin he can reach. 

“Miss owner, I wanna cum, I’ve been such a good boy,” he whimpers, “wanna knot your hand, please. You said I could.”

“Not yet,” you’re so turned out, your panties are wet and sticky with slick, “wanna see how long you can last.” 

He growls and whimpers but lets you keep teasing his cock, playing with the head before feathering your fingers across his balls and knot. 

You watch as tears drip down his cheeks when he clenches his eyes shut. Feeling a little bad for him, you pick up your pace and jerk him off, getting a little rougher in your movement. 

“Oh, oh, that’s so good,” he mumbles, “gonna knot you, gonna knot my sweet owner.”

Your thighs clench together trying to alleviate the want building in your core. He growls and grunts as he pushes up into your fist, knot bumping against your fingers as it gets bigger. 

Snarling against your shoulder, he humps the tight tunnel of your fingers until sticky cum spurts from his tip, coating your hand as it drips down onto his knot and sac. 

“Good boy, Leon,” you keep your voice warm and soft, “you did so good for me.”

He keens in the back of his throat and nuzzles your spit covered skin.

“Thank you, I feel better,” he sighs happily, ears drooping as he yawns, “gonna take a bath.”

“Okay,” you reply as he shuffles to his feet and makes his way to the bathroom. 

You listen for the door to click before you bring your hand up to your mouth. Just pure curiosity is what you tell yourself as you press two cum covered fingers into your mouth. A moan slips past your lips as Leon’s salty flavor coats your tongue. 

Your phone buzzing jolts you from your illicit deed, arousal and shame warring in your chest as you quickly head to the sink to wash your hands. You look into your own eyes through the mirror; you were just curious that’s all, you project to yourself. 

100% nosey curiosity. 

So what if you got even wetter at tasting Leon’s thick cum. 

Now that you know what it’s like in your mouth, you’ll never have to think about it again. 

Totally not a big deal. 

Period. 

Hours later as you lay in bed, glaring at your watch face reading 2:37am, that little voice of doubt chimes in that maybe it was a big deal after all. 

You muffle a groan into your pillow, tossing and turning until you can find a comfortable spot. That Reddit page said you could offer a lot more than just your hand.. is the last thought you have before you finally succumb to the sweet embrace of sleep. 

The next morning Leon is rousing you much too early for four hours of sleep. 

“But you said we could go to the park today,” he pouts, his blue eyes pleading.

“I did, didn’t I?” you sigh to yourself, scrubbing a hand over your sleep filled eyes, “alright, I’m up.”

“Thank you,” he jumps onto the bed, tongue lapping at your cheek making you giggle. 

“Leon!” you laugh harder as he crawls completely on top of you, pinning you down to lick across your jaw and ear. 

“Thank you so, so much,” he hums against you, mouth panting as he licks across the seam of your lips. 

“Leon, don’t—“

Your words are drowned out as he licks into your mouth, sloppy puppy spit dripping all down your lips and chin. Whining, you try to push him off but he has your arms pressed down into the blankets. 

He hums louder, tongue now slowly lapping into your mouth making you squirm underneath him. Moaning, you go limp as his tongue flutters against yours, drooling all in your mouth so much you swallow it down before you choke. He takes it as a sign you like it, making sure to drip even more puppy spit into your mouth. 

Your nipples tingle as he deepens the sloppy make out, Leon rocking his hips down onto you as he keeps up the slow motion of pressing his tongue in and out of your mouth. When you shift your thighs, you can feel how your wet panties cling to your cunt. 

Moaning, you start to suck on Leon’s thick tongue, crossing that imaginary line you drew for yourself. You want this so why not let yourself have it? Leon notices the change and excitedly presses his mouth closer, now using his lips to messily kiss you instead of just licking into your mouth. 

At some point, Leon shifts enough for you to move your arms, but you only bring them up to tangle in his hair—being mindful of his soft ears. You sigh and mewl as he gets more aggressive, teeth nipping your lips before fucking his tongue roughly into your mouth. After deep, sloppy, spit filled kisses, Leon finally pulls away. 

“God, you smell so good,” he pants and chuffs against your neck. 

“W-what,” you clear your throat, feeling all out of sorts, “what about the park?”

“Can we still go?” his ears perk up, making you chuckle. 

“Yeah, but I need to get dressed.”

“Will you wear that pretty dress?” Leon leans up to look at you bashfully. 

You squint up at him, a confused smile on your face, “Sure, I guess. If the weather is nice enough.”

His tail wags, “It is! I’m gonna go get my collar.”

He scrambles off the bed and beelines it for his room, leaving your door open. You sigh and stare up at the ceiling for a moment, feeling like you should take a cold shower. 

Lugging yourself out of bed, you grab your change of clothes and head into the en suite bathroom. You finish your ablutions and change—shooting yourself a thumbs up in the mirror as you leave the bathroom. 

Stepping back into your room, Leon’s already crowding you, collar on as he presses the clipped leash into your hand. 

“You’re so pretty,” he gives you a wide smile, blue eyes gazing down to your dress hem, “smell so good.”

He drops down onto his knees and presses his face under your dress, burying his nose against your panty clad pussy. 

“Leon!” you gasp, hand tangling in the leash and pulling, but he rears against the pressure, tongue lapping at the thin lace gusset of your panties. 

You pull harder and he groans, bringing his palms up to press on your hips, sending you stumbling back against the wall. He quickly shifts with your body, nosing your thighs before sloppily licking against your cunt. 

You shakily pull up the edge of your dress until you can see Leon’s face. His dilated eyes flicker up to yours, hair ruffled and messy, ears twitching. 

“Leon,” you whimper, feeling his teeth tug and nip the fabric until he’s able to rip a hole into it. 

His tongue slips into the tear, making it larger until you’re basically wearing crotch less panties. Tugging on the leash just makes him grunt and moan into your pussy, tongue licking up the slick dripping from your hole. 

“Fuck,” you rock your hips making Leon growl, tail wagging behind him as his tongue flutters in your clenching hole. 

He moves up, tongue dragging through your pussy lips to circle your sensitive bundle of nerves til you’re whimpering.  

“G-good boy, Leon, right there, oh god,” you grind your sensitive bundle against his mouth as he suckles it between his lips. 

He whines and teases your pudgy clit with his lips and tongue as you yank his leash to keep his face right where you want. He pants and moans, moving his mouth against your pussy, tongue fluttering in and out of your hole. 

You tighten the pull on his leash and ride his face with a moan. You can hear how wet you are from the messy sounds of Leon’s mouth. He moves back up to lap and suck at your clit, tail thumping against the floor as he groans against the sensitive bud like he can’t get enough of your taste.

He finally pulls away with a huff, mouth swollen and shiny with slick. Before you can say anything, he’s standing up so fast you lose grip on the leash and he’s shoving you over the edge of the bed and flipping your dress up. Your panties are ripped in half and you feel his thick cock pressing into your hole. 

“Leon,” you try to raise up but he snarls and boxes you in, sinking his cock into you fast and deep. 

You wail and thrash as he grunts, rocking his dick deep into your soaked pussy until the tip grinds against the opening to your womb. 

Clenching and moaning, tears bead your water line, “S’too much.”

He licks the shell of your ear making you shiver, pulling halfway out of your pulsing walls to fuck back into your cunt. 

“Been wanting to knot your pussy for ages,” he whines, the sound of skin slapping together making you clench against his dick. 

“So naughty, letting me fuck your hand, cumming all over you, letting other pups know you’re all mine,” he mouths and lick all over the back of your neck and across your shoulders. 

“Just wanted t’help,” you mumble, feeling your pussy throb as he bullies his cock against your g-spot, bottoming out on every thrust.  

“Mm but you are helping now, miss owner,” Leon chuffs the back of your head, hips flexing as he ruts his dick into your greedy cunt, “sweet pussy all wet and willing for my puppy knot.”

You clamp down hard on his thick cock with a loud whine, “Oh, f-fuck.”

He picks up on that instantly and growls low, “Like my puppy knot? Wanna feel it lock me inside your tight wet hole?”

Hot arousal curls in your abdomen, clit throbbing at the thought of Leon knotting you. 

“Leon,” you mewl, fingers twisting in your sheets, cunt squelching loudly around his dick as you get even more wet and tight. 

“That’s it, miss owner,” he rumbles low in his chest, sloppily licking your shoulders, “get that pussy nice and slick for my knot.”

You’re coated in puppy spit and precum at this point, nipples hard and pointed as Leon drags you back onto his cock. 

“Gotta show you how good of a mate I can be,” he nips at your neck, “show you I can fill you up how you need, give you lots of pups.”

“Leon,” you whine as he bullies into your soaking wet hole over and over, “n-no pups, you gotta pull out.”

“But I gotta give you my knot,” he licks across your shoulder blade, “gotta breed your pussy deep.”

Shuddering, your arms give out, forcing your back into a deeper arch allowing Leon to fuck your pussy harder. 

“Gonna make you my bitch,” he growls into your ear, drooling all over your neck, “gonna mount you whenever I want, knot you so good you’ll beg for it.”

Hearing him call you a bitch in that low growl makes you press back harder into his thrusts, pussy squeezing his cock like crazy. 

“Leon,” you drag out his name with a moaning pant, “we can’t.”

“Why? Tell me one good reason why and I’ll stop, miss owner.”

“Cause,” your mind’s foggy with arousal, “cause…”

You shiver as he ruts deeper into your slick pussy, bullying that spongy spot in your cunt that makes you clench on him repeatedly. 

“Why?” he licks your ear, “cause you like it too much? Don’t want my dripping puppy cock filling you up? Giving you a thick creampie to make you feel nice and full.”

“Yes,” you moan, “I shouldn’t—“

“Miss owner, just let me do it one time, just so we both can see how it feels,” his voice is sweet making your thoughts syrup thick, “just let my fat puppy cock knot you one time.”

You shudder, pussy pulsing and fluttering around him as slick leaks down your thighs, “Just once?”

He growls in satisfaction, “Yeah, just once. Promise.”

You both know as soon as he knots you, you’re going to like it too much to stop. It’s why he laughs into your shoulder making you moan. 

“Can’t wait to empty my balls in your fat pussy,” he grunts. 

You wail as his tip knocks against your cervix roughly. 

“Love the way you sound,” he nips your neck, “love the way you smell, love how sweet you taste,” his voice dips into a deeper octave, “love how your hot pussy grips me so fucking tight. She’s really working for that puppy knot, huh?”

Drooling into the sheets, you whimper in reply, walls fluttering and clenching around his thick cock. The way he’s thrusting into your hole grinds your clit against the bedspread, orgasm steadily building higher and higher to its peak. 

“G’nna cum,” you slur out, toes curling as your hips shake, “gonna cum, fuck, Leon!”

You bury your face in the sheets as you cry out, cunt pulsing and milking his cock as he keeps railing you into the bed. 

“Yes, yes,” he snaps his teeth over your shoulder, “feels so good, gonna make me pop my knot early, fuck, take it, take it, miss owner, take my fucking cock.”

You keen pitifully as he bares down over your body, pressing his knot past the wet, clenching hole of your pussy with a low howl. Feeling his knot seal you together, your cunt clamps down around him tightly squeezing around his cock and knot. 

“Mmm so perfect,” he huffs against your ear, “doesn’t that feel so good? So warm and sticky inside? So much puppy cum filling you up.”

You mewl pitifully as he rocks against you, cock grinding all against the spongy spot in the front of your cunt making a second orgasm wash weakly through you. 

“Can knot you all day, miss owner,” he kisses the side of your cheek, “instead of going to the park,” he licks the corner of your mouth, “can I? Promise it’ll feel so good.”

You turn your head to suck his tongue into your mouth. He moans and eagerly licks into your open mouth. 

“S’fine, Leon,” you pull away with a sigh as he grinds your clit against the bedspread, “this’ll help, right?”

His tail wags happily, “Uh huh, help me out so much. S’okay to knot you again and again right? As much as I need?”

Brain feeling like thick syrup from the best orgasm of your life, you nod, “As much as you need.” 

[alexanderlightweight]

Happy Wednesday! I’ m wondering if you have any more thoughts or snippets on Shifting Scales? The one where Alec can shift into a snake and Izzy a bear!

Sfw/nsfw

here is some more! alec and Izzy love each other they just don't understand each other. and Magnus is very intrigued. first part of shifting scales here since its been a while.

hope you enjoy

<3 lumine

3DNE corpse desecration, cannibalism etc

shifting scales

“I can’t believe you ate someone in front of him. And of all things a bear, Alec!” Izzy is particularly irritated by the bear part. Alec can tell by the way her words end in a growl. But that’s just how she is. She can’t help being sensitive to seeing bears being eaten considering she too is a bear.

And the fact that Alec has admitted bears are delicious.

Alec understands it's natural for her warm-blooded mammal brain to fear him.

“You’re thinking weird, reptilian thoughts again. Aren’t you, Alec?” Izzy sighs and looks far too exhausted for someone who once got stuck halfway up a tree and wouldn’t go anywhere without him for months. “I wish that either you’d been born a bear or I a snake, this is ridiculous sometimes.”

Alec turns up his nose with a hiss at the mere thought of donning fur instead of scales. It’s disgusting and makes the murky green-yellow of his scales dapple across his face.

“So sorry to disgust you with fur.” Izzy grumbles and Alec appreciates the fact that she sometimes lets him sleep on her — not that she sleeps but it's sweet of her to pretend.  However, as nice as fur can be to sleep on, it’s not something he’d want to personally wear.

Trading scales for skin is bad enough and it’s only because — Magnus, with golden slitted eyes so much like a snake but also very much more.

Golden, not muddied or venomous yellow and gleaming with power that felt warm and Alec — like any respectable snake — craved warmth. 

Magnus exudes heat.

It’s with eager impatience that Alec lets a day pass by and then another half of a day before Magnus’ fire message is summoning him away. It’s not nearly soon enough but it will do and Alec makes it clear he’s unavailable to the Institute as he prepares both payment, a file on Fray, his nicest jacket, the boots he made from the hide of a Circle member who shifted into an alligator — and pants made from carefully harvested demonhide.

Everyone seems relieved by the fact that he’s taking a moment out and Alec mournfully wishes that it was easier to communicate with them. However even his own mother — who is also a snake — is hard to understand so Alec has come to realize everyone else sees the world in a slightly different way.

Their eyes are fogged over by their humanity and Alec’s vision — despite having two eyelids — is clear and unobscured by the mandate of prey.

—-

“You don’t waste time, do you?” 

Alexander is wearing some very impressive — if the magic clinging to it is any indication — gear as well as some very well polished weapons.

Magnus would think it a threat if Alexander wasn’t blinking lazily at him, forked tongue flicking out to languidly taste the air as he sways forward through the door.

It’s charming and disarming at the same time and Magnus summons a contract. “While I figure out if your rogue shadowhunter is innocent or a traitor, I want you to be my bodyguard.  Non-negotiable and without it affecting what I’m owed for my services.”

Alexander preens, smug and pleased and leaning forward into the hand Magnus had reached out for a handshake.  Instead he ends up with a scaled chin and a smooth, cool jaw that nuzzles his skin as if seeking heat.

“So you want to keep me close?”

“You really can’t resist can you?” Magnus murmurs and Alexander’s tongue flicks out, not only tasting the air but Magnus’ skin and lingering over his pulse. 

“Why should I? Would be a waste of the indignity of wearing human skin, to deny myself what I know I want.” Alexander is so firm with his words. His chin nuzzling further into Magnus' hold and his eyes flickering shut as he trusts in Magnus.

“If you’re certain then, I’ll leave my safety to you, sweetheart.”  Magnus rumbles the last part, earning a pleased hiss and a head tilt to allow his nails to scritch up and down smooth scales. 

His own claws itch to be unglamoured but not yet.

Not quite yet.

Alexander’s instincts are a wonder but Magnus wants him twisted like an ouroboros around him and only then will he reveal what he is.

When Alexander is truly ensnared. 

--

alec is a very unreliable narrator simply because he thinks more snakelike than human and more eldritch than mundane most of the time. Magnus just gave him permission to snack on people, he is thrilled.

[dough09]

Mini Highland Cows

 incase you don’t know who they are, PLEASE look them up. THEY ARE SUPER CUTE.         Also instagram is infected by them (for valid reasons!)... at least my page Itoshi sae x reader Summary: You are obsessed with the fluffy mini highland cows on social media so you make a presentation for Sae, just to persuade me. Yet he just won't budge... or will he? plus he learns that you've been spying on him uNinteNTionAllY

Sae knew you were chronically online. Oh yes, he had experience too. His PR team constantly mentioned that you shouldn’t post so much about his private life, so you stopped. By stopping you just went in the shadows and posted pictures on a private account no one except you and Sae knew about.

Naturally by spending most of your time there your feed swarmed with cute and fluffy cows. Each time you at least send Sae about 30 posts. Daily. You obsessed over them while talking about nothing with him.

Begging him to get one for you also became part of the usual, same old routine. Yet he never complied. He said it’s a hassle and he won’t keep an animal in his apartment. Let alone a cow.

It didn’t matter if you wanted a dog, a cat, a parrot, or even a fish. He always mumbled that “It’s a hassle, and who's gonna feed them? You?” He knew that eventually it’d be his responsibility to clean its dirty stuff away, take care of them etc. You’d just give them all the love.

So when today you didn’t let him into the house unless he got you a cow he got really ticked off. He already had a long and shitty day, and now you. He loved you dearly but your absurd ideas often annoyed him.

“Say you’ll get me one!! Pleasee” you looked at him with puppy eyes. “No.” he tried pushing you out of his way. “You seriously won’t let me go inside my home? Just to be clear, I’m paying for this place..parasite.” He glared. Not meaning half of those words. “That’s mean.”

He only shrugged and picked you up to finally come in. “Try and persuade me then- to get you that cow-” What he didn’t expect was a full on presentation in the living room. “Why is getting a mini, warm, soft and cute Highland cow is totally worth it” so the title read.

He took a deep breath knowing this will be a long few minutes. He prayed it won’t be hours. It’s also useless, he will never give in, maybe to a smaller animal yes, but not to a cow.

“So first of all, their appearance should speak for itself- but that never made you excited, sooo here’s a few fun facts. These highland cows can produce milk- only a few gallons, so less than their bigger cousins but you can make cheese and butter from it…” So on and so forth. You rambled like this was the day of your life.

He swore he felt his eyelids closing at one point. The videos you showed did make him smile a little, but it wasn’t enough. “Say, cariño, do you really want to lock a cow here? In this apartment? Without grass and only a few “edible” flowers? Do you really think he’d be happy here?” He countered. Always wanted to ask you that but he was worried it might really make you upset- and he couldn't bear to see you cry. But dire situations, call for dire measures.

“W-well…that’s.. I’ll take him for walks-” “You want to take a cow, on walks? In Madrid?” 

Silence. Utter silence filled the room. He raised his brow expecting an answer while knowing you can’t.

“I mean no.. but then- then promise me to get a cow when we move-” “Who said we are moving?” he squinted his eyes suspiciously. “I saw your phone- and I saw.. houses” He sighed. “When did you go through it?” “I didn’t!!! I just…saw.” He nodded like he never believed a word.

“Whatever, we are moving because some fans discovered this place, only a few streets down though.” “oh..sorry.” “You are hopeless, don’t say sorry for such trivial things, it was bound to happen.” He opened his arms and gestured for you to come closer.

You sat onto his lap and he enveloped you into his chest. After a few seconds of embracing each other you spoke. “Soo…can I have a cow?” “Sure.” “but- WAIT WHAT? REALLY?!” “Obviously not. Look I had a long day, I’m exhausted, I came home and you are annoying me.” 

“Sorry Sae” “Yeah it’s not that I care just…”

“Fine, no need to get a cow.” He rolls his eyes and hides a smile into your neck. “Can I still have a cat?” you mumbled softly. “Y/N” he groaned.

[rustyarcade]

My headcanons for Nina Mazursky under the cut!

Nina is Mexican/Guatemalan/Chinese with Polish roots! 🇲🇽🇬🇹🇨🇳🇵🇱

She is a DemiPansexual and her pronouns are she/her! (Don’t rlly have trans headcanons for her, but I think it’s cool if yall do)

Has autism and OCD

Her body is mostly soft and smooth like a dolphin or whale, but tougher parts of her skin like the bottom of her feet are more like scales.

Has alopecia! I immediately thought of this since when she’s younger (before she turned aquatic) she didn’t have any hair, even as a toddler.

She kept Doggy the Caterpillar around with her into Belle Reve and sleeps with it every night.

Loved watching/playing Lacrosse even when she left the team and well into adulthood.

Has a big fear of hospitals due to her incident along with being a chronically ill child.

Her and Phosphorus have a “wannabe, cool uncle/shy, down to earth niece” relationship

Phosphorus makes a lot of seafood jokes at her expense. She isn’t the biggest fan of them, but she doesn’t say anything because she “doesn’t want to kill the mood”.

Such a good singer! She wanted to join the theatre club in school, but was discouraged after the whole lacrosse fiasco.

Also she’s a theatre kid. Sorry, not sorry. She loves Phantom of the Opera and Wicked (she related heavily to Elphaba). It’s her dream role!

One time, the Bride caught Nina singing “Once Upon A December” to Weasel to help him calm down during his night terrors. She just stood in the hallway listening to her. Once she made her appearance known, Nina freaked tf out as she’s very shy about it, but Bride promised to keep it as a secret between them.

And speaking of Bride, TALK ABOUT (GIRL)FRIENDS!!! Whether platonic or romantic, their relationship is so important to each other. They are each other’s one and only.

Nina and GI are also besties!!! Nina enjoys listening to GI’s stories and training with him.

Chronically offline. She’s one of those people who think they’re “better than social media cuz it just makes ppl compare themselves to others blah blah”. In reality, she’s just frustrated that you can’t use phones underwater.

She’s a Sanrio fan! Her favorites are Pompompurin and Chococat. She claims that she doesn’t like Hangyodon, but she secretly loves him. She doesn’t want to seem cliche.

Board game nerd. No one else on the team is a big fan of them, but they’ll play together if it makes Nina happy.

Oh she loves sad girl music… Mitski, boygenius, Phoebe Bridgers, etc

Looked up “girls kissing” on the family computer

Constantly missing her dad and she feels guilty for “causing his death”

Cries herself to sleep a lot of nights thinking abt her dad :(((

The Commandos (whose cells are closer to each other now cuz of their good work in Pokolistan) will escape from their cells when they hear Nina crying to go comfort her

Genuinely appreciates that the Commandos always stick up for her no matter what, even if their protectiveness can feel a little over bearing at times

Despite her lack of combat skills, the Commandos still treat her as a valuable member of the team and Nina sees them as her true family :’)

Ok I’m done for now! If u want to hear my fishbride specific hcs, lmk and id love to do them👀

[cherrybean]

Lalo Salamanca Helping Partner with Depression/Anxiety HEADCANNONS

🤍all fluff🤍

Side note: i am glad to be back, sorry about the wait, nothing is better but I have to keep moving forward no matter what, i love you guys hope you like this one 🙂‍↕️ I’ll be also updating a Logan fluff and smut too as huge thank you for being so supportive 💗

- Lalo has a touch of antisocial personality disorder 😭

- Like cmon this man is a little crazy 🙂 so to him someone being depressed or anxious is out of his norm

- He understands feelings but he himself has never dealt with feeling so sad or so anxious to the point he can’t do something

- Lalo lives for the thrill

- You and Lalo had been dating for a while now and he’s only ever seen you be happy or sometimes a bit upset when he’d have to leave across the border for his business

- He’d also sometimes make you angry just so he could make you happy again (please not in a toxic way though 🥲)

- Seeing you having personal issues or family issues would feel strange to him; both in the sense that he had never felt such deep devotion to someone and at the same time because his family was so fucked, that even when they weren’t on good terms they’d do anything for each other

- Lalo would be the type to try and have you talk to him so he can fully understand how you feel

- He’d love you yapping as he could tell that it made you feel better being able to express yourself, but also because he could try and understand your emotions better

- “It’s okay mí amor I’m here” he’d say softly as he’d give you a big bear hug and kiss your head, when you’d break down from all the emotions 🥺

- Some days would be harder for you and he could tell as you would be locked away in your room and scrolling through social media to rot your brain from thinking

- Lalo being the the loving man he is would cook you meals or try to get you out of the house

- He’d definitely would take you hiking or to his house in Chihuahua just so you’d see something else than the four walls of your room, even if it was the four walls of his room 😭

- Lalo strikes me as a protector as well, and I feel like he’d try and take care of your issues by giving whoever is giving you a hard time a “scare” to leave you alone or to treat you better 💀

- Lalo would also shower you with love in the sense of positive thinking

- “Look at my beautiful girl” “estas hermosa mí amor” (you’re gorgeous my love) “it’s okay muñequita” etc would be words of affirmation he’d tell you 💗

- Lalo would never force you to get over things or try to make you happier fast

- He’d love you for who you were even if that meant sometimes he’d have to get you to go outside for some sun or to eat a meal

- I feel like Lalo would be extremely compassionate with his partner and try his best to make them feel better, not because he doesn’t accept them being sad, more so because he wants his partner to see that things aren’t so hard when you’re with the right people

- He honestly reminds me of the meme “have some compassion!! Because this really affects people” 😭😭

- Honestly I feel like Lalo would get you a dog 🥺

- Lalo would most likely get you a German shepherd or a Belgian Malinois to be both your protectors when he isn’t home, but also so they can cuddle with you and be your emotional support animals

- Lalo would be very in-tune with how you’d feel

- I swear this man could tell if you’re not feeling okay when you guys are out and would make sure to have an excuse to leave early

- “I love you mí amor” Lalo would coo as he’d tuck you into bed after a long day 😭

- I know Lalo doesn’t sleep but I feel like he’d still try to for a bit as being next to you would comfort him

[rodolfoparras]

share the angstttt

-⚰️

Thinking about sexually repressed Price | 18+ MDNI

Pairing: John Price x Top Male reader

Content tags: angsty porn, internalized homophobia, closeted character, angst with a happy ending, masturbation, anal fingering, pining, slow burn

A/N: this isn’t meant to be a proper piece of writing, consider it a stream of consciousness author was clearly working through something here 💀 and bear with the awful grammar spelling mistakes ooc moments etc , also this wasn’t supposed to be this big nor this angsty but I was listening to hozier so things took a turn also to really set the mood I’d suggest listening to from Eden by hozier, work song by hozier, like real people do by hozier and then finally treat yourself with willow by Taylor swift to ease any remaining pain

Sexually repressed Price who’s the only one on the team without a spouse, who likes men but is deeply closeted, who’s starting to think that the liquor and tobacco smoke is starting to taste a bit more like loneliness

Sexually repressed Price who’s got grays in his hair, lines on his face and crow feet around his eyes when he finally meets the type of man he’s always desired

Sexually repressed Price whose hands shake and heart pounds every time your knees knock together or your hands brush, whose face burns and he stutters every time he tries talking to you, who’s so acutely aware of every glance every touch every word he says who gets so in his head about every interaction that he decides to keep himself locked in his office just to avoid any more awkward interactions, who’s never had this issue before because he’s never been attracted to the other men in his circle, attracted to men the words prickle at his throat like whiskey and cigar smoke

Sexually repressed Price who does his best to keep your relationship professional, who treats you no different to how a captain would treat his subordinate.

He’ll send you out to a strenuous training session during heinous weather conditions without thinking twice about it, even though he’s trying his best not to pull your shivering form in his warm embrace.

Price wont think twice about scolding you when you mess up during a mission, will grab onto the scruff of your neck and get all up in your face, even though he’ll also visibly get nervous once he realizes he’s just a hair away from your lips

Price will only speaks to you in a professional tone, words sharp and tone firm but then there are instances where he’ll catch himself slipping up, sharp words rounding out, tone softening up by just looking into your eyes.

Sexually repressed Price who somehow ends up with one of your belongings in his hand whether it be a shirt, a glove, a mask and can’t help but notice how well the tangy smell of your sweat mingles with the sweetness from your cologne, can’t help but think how much it smells of a man and God knows he hasn’t allowed himself to indulge in that smell so he press his nose against the fabric of your shirt, glove or whatever and just loses himself in the scent.

He promises himself he’ll return it but it ends up staying in his rooms for weeks, and he smells it when he needs comfort, when he goes to sleep, when he’s being reminded of the fact that it’s there with him, til it no longer smells like you

When the last trace of your scent lingers on the fabric, he ends up doing something stupid. During one of those nights when he’s drinking liquor like it’s water and inhaling tobacco smoke like it’s his last day on earth, his eyes will land upon your shirt or glove or whatever it is and he’ll make a bee line to the material, before taking it to bed with him

Sexually repressed Price who doesn’t even like to masturbate, who just squeezes his thighs together in hopes of getting some relief or rubs his cock against the sheets until he’s spurting ropes of cum all over it, who doesn’t know how to finger himself properly, experiences it painfully even but can’t help but sneak a hand down his pants while pressing the fabric of your shirt or glove or whatever it is, against his nose.

You do a lot of things without thinking when horny or so Price has heard so he justifies that as being the reason as to why he presses the material against his nose while jerking off. It’s so strange, this new feeling, it feels like you’re there in bed with him, shallow breathes escapes his lips as he imagines you pinning him down to the very same bed, squelching sound getting louder as he imagines you grinding your clothed cock down on him, he’s never had his scenarios be this vivid before he can even see the flush upon his own cheeks, the way he bites down on his bottom lip as you continue to grind down on him and within seconds he’s spurting ropes of cum all over his fist, the fabric still pressed up against him

It’s weird- the sensation that he feels, a humming sensation strumming though his body and mingling with the ever lasting guilt he feels

Sexually repressed Price who ends up with the army catalogue in his hands, who flips to the page where your picture lays, one hand holding a glass of whiskey while the other traces over your features

You look like everything Price had dreamt of in his younger years, smart, handsome and with a promising career in the army maybe if he’d met you back then things would be different maybe he’d be open to dating you, maybe you’d want him too even. Back then he’d been fresh faced and eager to drink up the knowledge of the world not knowing it was eager to swallow him whole. He tears out the page, for reasons he doesn’t even know but it’s the very first picture of a man he doesn’t crumble and hide under his bed but instead neatly folds up and keeps in his wallet.

Sexually repressed Price who ends up breaking one of his rules who treats you more than a captain treats a subordinated when he invites you out to a bar with the rest of 141, it’s a celebratory event for a successful mission, but it feels anything but that, because you get so drunk out of your mind that you start spurting nonsense, stumbling upon the topic of masturbation, and sharing how to get yourself off properly, how to use your hands or mouth when with someone, mind too drunk to register what you’re saying, going in such far detail Price feels his ears burn and hands shake as he runs off into a dirty bathroom stall, splashing water on his face and staring down his reflection,

He thinks about the words you said when you’re cleaning your weapon, skilled fingers easily disarming something that’s presented as untouchable, can’t help but think about them when he sees you pinning soldiers down during sparring sessions, caging men under your weight without actually hurting them, He thinks and thinks and thinks until he breaks his rule again, lays down on his side on his bed, feels the cold sheets sending chilies down his spine only for the sensation to intensify once his chilly fingers touch the cleft of his ass,

Price doesn’t like fingering himself but he still circles his puckered rim with his slicked up fingers, relaxing the muscle just like you’d suggested that one drunken night. Price doesn’t see a point in fingering himself when his cock is hard and weeping between his legs but he still slides the tip of his finger inside the tight ring of muscles, gently grazing the wall of nerves like you’d slurred out that one drunken night. Price knows he shouldn’t be doing this but he continues to work his finger deeper inside of him, eyes fluttering shut and teeth nibbling on his bottom lip, even managing to working himself up to a second one as moans escape him, continues to work himself til there’s no point in stopping despite knowing how wrong it is because he’s teetering closers to the edge before finally cumming all over his hand.

Sexually repressed Price who’s almost broken all of his rules when he starts spending more time with you, beyond ways that are considered normal for a captain and his subordinate. It’s not like you’re forcing your way into his office and it’s not like he’s dragged you to sit next to him yet for whatever reason you’ve decided to do paper work next to him, claiming it’s the most quiet room on base and before he can argue you’ve already put down your pen and papers.

The very first time you do this he’s hyperaware of your presence, wondering if he’s being too obvious with every glance, hands subtly shaking as he adjusts his own papers, wondering if he should say something when the silence goes on for too long, wondering if he’s disturbing you when you’re the one doing work in his office.

Slowly but surely he gets used to your presence, doesn’t glance as much but instead looks at you properly and manages a soft smile even, his hands no longer shake and he can now comfortably offer you his cigar without embarrassing himself, and soon the long pauses of silence turn into comfortable conversations where you do anything but paper work and sure he still blushes when your hands and knees knock together as you’re passing cigars back and forth and he still messes up a sentence or a word when trying to make casual conversation with you but it’s comfortable, that is of course until the universe decides to laugh in his face.

It’s when you’ve decided to take it upon yourself to prep his cigar for him. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything you just thought you should do it for him since he’s kind enough to share them with you but he can’t help but notice the way your fingers gently roll the cigar , the way your lick your lips when trying to cut it precisely the way your half lidded eyes and lazy smile will meet his gaze as you’re playfully blowing the smoke in his face

Once the paper work is finished up and you’re back in your room, he’s still seated in his office chair, his cigar tucked between his fingers and he can’t help but remember the way you’d prepped the cigar, how you’d put the tobacco between your lips, can’t help but remember the playful smile on your face, eyes falling closed as you took a break from the draining paper work and all of sudden he feels himself harden in his pants

His eyes wander to his office door, it’s locked he knows it’s locked, then his fingers wander down to his zipper, undoing his pants and easily wrapping a hand around his dick, and gently pumping it

Thoughts of you whirl around in his head much like the cigar smoke that had whirled in the air and before he knows it he’s cumming all over his fist, the same feeling of shame and guilt bubbling inside of him

Sexually repressed Price who once again finds himself in a dirty bathroom stall, hands shaking and ears burning as he stares at his own reflection.

You’d casually mentioned you were seeing, someone no, casually mentioned that you were seeing a man, there was no shame on your face no hesitation in your tone when you said the words, said it like you said how to please yourself the night you were drunk, but this time around you were stone cold sober, price pukes into the toilet bowl like he’d been the one drinking

Sexually repressed Price who can’t help but think of your attraction towards men, who stares at himself naked in the mirror, keeps wondering if you’d ever want someone like him, who becomes so hyper aware of your existence, who scoops and digs for any sign that you’re attracted to him only to bury it as far as he can into the ground when he finds hints of it

Sexually repressed who has his room next to yours, who can hear whomever you brought home for the night, who can hear its a man, who can’t help but sneak his hand down his pants and imagine it was him pinned on your weight, with you showing him how to take your mouth, how to take your fingers, how to take your cock, what it’s like to have a man in bed

His mind fills with thoughts of you pinning down the man as if he were another soldiers, but those arm would continue to trace down his shoulders chest and abdomen. His mind fills with thoughts of your fingers, who so easily takes apart deadly weapons, taking apart the man in the very same way

Sexually repressed Price who finds himself back at the very same bar, this time with just you alone, drunk out of your minds and talking about something other than cigar liquor or paper work, who gets so drunk you have to sling an arm over his shoulder and carry him to his room and somewhere on the walk back, between the steps the drunken talks the heavy breathes from trying to carry a full grown man he slips up, eyes flickering between your lips and eyes and before you know it the two of you kiss

He feels scared once he realizes what he has done eyes wide and mouth agape, desperately trying to explain himself but you’re ever so calm collected a gentle smile on your face , briefly pecking his lips before pulling away

He’s still drunk as he were moments ago but sober enough to pull you in for another kiss and it’s clumsy teeth clashing, smacking sounds echoing loudly smiling so much you’re practically barely kissing but he loves it so much at one point you fall down onto pavement and stay seated there, maybe it’s the liquor maybe it’s the adrenaline but for the first time he doesn’t feel any of the guilt brewing inside of him as he interlocks your hands and rests his head on your shoulder

The next morning there’s just a tad bit of guilt at the back of his throat but it may very well be the liquor and tobacco smoke, he wakes up next to a glass of water and pain killers for the headache that’s already making itself known

When he arrives to the first meeting that morning he thinks you’ll confront him about that night, pulse roaring in his ears and hand shaking as he takes a seat at the table but nothing of that sort happens, you carry a conversation with soap, you listen through the debriefing and you part ways after the meeting

Later that night he seeks you out on his own, voice soft, gaze avoidant as he leads you to his office under the disguise of doing paper work and of course you take him up on that offer

You barely do paper work instead you share a cigar til you’ve smoked for so long you’ve lost interest in the tobacco leaf and there’s only a silence lingering in the air for a good couple of minutes. Finally he says something apologies tumbling past his lips hands gesturing for what he doesn’t dare say

It’s okay, you explain to him, there’s no need to worry about it, but he won’t stop apologizing til you ask him if you can kiss him again and he halts his movements and falls silent, you can almost hear a pin drop before he nods his head and you lean in and cup his face and gently slot your lips together

You kiss and you kiss and you kiss til you’re caging his body against the sofa like he’s dreamt of so many times, hands racking alongside of his ribs like dissembling one of your weapons and eagerly kissing his lips and he looks so blissful so at ease soft gasps escaping his lips with every kiss as he claws at the sofa under him finally his eyes flutter open hands cupping your cheek and the biggest smile overtakes his face as you kiss again and again and again

And that’s how this thing starts This relationship that really isn’t a relationship where you and him do everything two lovers would do but he’s not yours and you’re not his but you don’t seem to mind despite the thoughts that plague him at night

You’re always so patient so understanding don’t mind sharing kisses and caresses in hiding but it eats at him and eats at him but doesn’t make him any more braver

You deserve something more and when he finally thinks he’s ready to give you that the opportunity is taken away, and he’s sent out on a mission in which he almost doesn’t return

But you don’t give up hope, you sit outside even and wait for him to come home you don’t know how much time has passed but you’ve slept and showered and eaten a handful of times until you finally see a figure making its way towards you

It’s price

It’s your John

Funny how the sky cries just as tears fall down your cheek and within seconds you’re holding him in your embrace and you’re both crying before he finally cups your cheeks and you kiss, under the night sky, in front of the base, in front of the whole world to see

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 51

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber, Steve Kemp

Note: ya'll rock.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Amber takes you to a large truck. The man, Curtis, opens the door and she helps you in. It’s an older model with a bench seat. He gets in the other side and slides a key into the ignition. You hug your things tight, staring ahead. Dazed and dull. 

You’re out. You think. This is real, right? 

Amber rubs your shoulder as she keeps her arm around you. Curtis turns on the heat so it blasts on you. You only realise then that your teeth are chattering. 

“Bub, you okay?” Amber asks. You nod and blink at her then the man on her other side. “This is Curtis. He’s a friend.” 

He dips his chin and you look at the dashboard. You can’t speak. Your insides are all shaky. You look over your shoulder at the house. Their house. 

“Go,” Amber says. “Curt, let’s just leave.” 

He shifts and puts his foot on the gas. Amber holds you as he drives. You wiggle your nose and sniffle but the tears don’t come. You’re still afraid. It doesn’t feel over yet. It’s not. 

You look down, your stomach shielded by your clothes, bundled around the tablet and journal. That’s all you have. All you have to prove it was real. If you didn’t take them, you would be sure you didn’t dream it all. 

“There’s the blanket,” Curtis says. 

His voice is grizzly, like a bear. His knuckles are even a little furry. Amber pulls the blanket from between them and throws it over you. 

“I’m just so happy you’re safe. You’re here,” Amber rocks you. “You’re with me. Oh, bubba, I was terrified.” 

You lean into her. Her warmth enshrines you. You turn your face into her shoulder. Just like cinnamon. “Me too,” you whisper. 

You stay like that. When the engine quiets, you feel like you’re still in motion. You don’t move until Amber does. She helps you slide out of the truck but as you land on your feet, you stumble. Your journal slips out and lands open on the cold ground. 

She hops down after you and picks it up. You squeal and grab at it. She can’t read it. It’s yours! She closes it calmly and smiles, holding it out. She tucks it behind your armful. 

“Come on, bub, too cold out here.” 

You let her take you inside. Curtis holds the door again. He’s quiet and patient. He’s scary at first sight but there’s a calmness to him that keeps you from panicking. After the men you’ve dealt with, you should be hiding. 

You set down your things little by little. It’s hard to let go. You leave them on the low bench as Amber and Curtis unlace their boots. You slip off your shoes and look around.

One of your paintings hangs on the wall; a bluebird with a sprig of lily-of-the-valley in its beak. You go close to look at it. You know it’s yours but you find it hard to think that you made that. It looks so cheerful. 

“Pretty,” Curtis comments and you back away from the painting to look at him but your eyes only make it to his chest. 

“She’s talented,” Amber preens, “bubba, let’s get you settled. You want a hot bath?” 

You shake your head. The doctor said no hot baths. You feel sick. Your eyes widen and you scramble in panic. You don’t think as you push between them and race down to the bathroom. You hurl over the sink and whine. 

You hear your sister’s hushed tones followed by her soft footsteps. Her shadow hovers in the door and you crank on the faucet to rinse your mouth. You can barely breath. The acid burns your throat. You can’t tell her the truth. 

“Sorry, I... I’m not feeling well,” you cough and face her. 

“That’s okay. It’s been a hectic day,” she beckons you out. “Well, how about some tea? Ginger, for your stomach.” 

You think that’s okay. It doesn’t have caffeine, you think. You shuffle out after her to the kitchen. Curtis puts the kettle on the stove as you enter. She nods and he nods back. He heads for the door. 

“Call me if you need anything,” he says. 

“Sure, Curt. Thanks again. You don’t know what you’ve done for me.” 

He takes a deep breath, “any time.” 

He leaves and you listen to his steps and the subsequent open and shut of the door. You stare after him. The kettle shakes softly as it heats. You turn back to Amber and you cheek twinges. She’s watching you. 

“He’s your boyfriend.” 

She drops her head and shows her palms, “you got me.” 

“Is he nice?” You ask. 

“So far,” she answers. 

Your chest constricts and you turn your attention to the wall, “mine weren’t.” She lets out a noise, something like a whimper. You shake your head. “No, don’t... feel bad. I don’t want you to.” You push your shoulders up and go to the counter. You lean on it. “You found me and I’m okay now.” 

“Bub, that’s... you’re safe but...” 

“I know. I know. It’s stuck in my head.” You touch your forehead, leaning into your hand. 

She’s silent. You know what she wants to ask but she won’t. Because she loves you. Because she cares. She doesn’t want to hurt you but you hurt her. You heard it in the first note she spoke to you. 

“Let’s have our tea first,” she says as if she can sense your thoughts. 

You nod. 

“Will you get it ready?” You look at the door. “Be right back.” 

“Sure.” 

You go back to the entry way and sift under the clothes. You take your journal. The tablet can wait. You come back as Amber pours the steaming water. She takes a cup and you take the other. You go to the front room and sit on the couch. The mugs clink on the table to steep. 

You clutch the journal in your lap and chew your lip. 

“We don’t have to--” 

“I have to. Or I won’t ever.” You insist. 

“Okay,” she agrees. 

You sit and breathe. It takes a few minutes before your stomach stops churning. You bite down and measure your words. 

“I was with Andy. And he hurt me. So I left. Steve... Dr. Kemp said he could help. I... I thought he would. I thought...” your lip trembles. “I thought I loved him. It’s stupid but I wanted to love him. I wanted someone to love. I wanted him to love me too.” 

Your eye twitches.  

“He didn’t.” 

“Oh, bubba,” she puts her hand on yours. 

“I can’t say... I can’t tell you...” you slip from under her grasp and lift the journal above your lap. You open it. “Will you read?” 

You look at her. She looks scared. 

“You don’t have to but I don’t think I can explain... out loud.” 

“As long as you’re okay with it.” 

“Please,” you beg, “every time I wrote, I wrote to you.” 

You hand her the journal and she takes it with reverence. She pauses and runs her hands over the pages. She puts her head down and her eyes begin to move across the writing. 

Her hand comes up and she covers her mouth. She’s silent and still as she reads. She turns the page and lets out a soft gasp into her palm. It isn’t until she turns the next and wipes her cheeks that you realise she’s crying. 

“Oh, bub...” 

“Just read,” you whisper. 

She continues. Her jaw tenses and her eyes flare as her grief dries up. Her horror turns to anger. She taps her finger at the bottom of the page. 

“What is this?” She flutters the page to the next to check the similarity. 

You know you can’t hide it. Not forever, not today.  

“My cycle. My period,” you explain. “And...” you shudder and your throat locks up. You bring your hands up to your neck and make yourself exhale.  

“It’s not here... or here...” she keeps flipping the pages. “Bub.” 

You feel sick again. You grab the tea and take a gulp. The heat soothes but it cannot heal this wound. 

“Yes.” You sniffle. 

“Yes?” She echoes. “Yes, what?” 

“I have a baby.” 

“What?” She wisps. 

You look down and touch your stomach. “They tested me at the hospital. It’s in there.” 

She slams the book shut and grips it tightly. You’ve never seen her this angry. She stomps around, pacing, then throws the journal and shrieks. 

“They did this too you!?” 

“I let him--” 

“No, no!” She balls her fists. “No, you didn’t ask for it. Don’t you say that. Do you say it!” She snarls and strides around like an animal. “Bub! They—a baby! A--” she stops and sways.  

She closes her eyes and opens her fingers. She flicks her lashes up and looks at you. She walks over to you slowly and sits. She takes your hands into hers. 

“What do you want?” 

“What?” You frown. 

“What do you want to do?” 

You consider her. You left because you didn’t want to burden her. Now you’ve brought home an actual burden. You know what needs to be done. You also know it’s what you want. 

“I don’t want it. It’s not mine. It’s his and I don’t want anything to do with him,” you eke out. 

“Okay, then we will figure it out.” She squeezes your hands. “Together.” 

Your eyes well, “why?” 

“I’m your sister. Why not?” She breathes. “It’s only ever been the two of us. You and me.” 

“I thought... I... they told me you hated me. That I was a burden--” 

“They are bad men. That’s not on you. They took advantage of you and that’s their issue, not yours.” She says. “You got that? None of this is your fault. None of it. Grown men like them know better.�� 

You lower your head, “but I... left you.” 

“So? It doesn’t matter. You’ll always have a place with me. Always.” 

You heave into a sob. It’s all coming out now. You can’t hold back. You collapse against her and untangle your hands as you wrap her in a hug. She puts her arms around you and pulls you closer. She leans back with you as your despair pours out in streams. 

“I’m sorry,” you garble, “Amber, I’m so sorry.” 

“Shhh, bubby, shhhh,” she pets your head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing.” 

🕊️

You sleep in Amber’s bed. You just want to be close to her and the thought of being alone is scary. She’s warm and safe. 

When the morning comes, you haven’t got much sleep. It’s hard to relax knowing what’s inside of you. The latent but constant nausea also keeps you awake. You make another trip to spew out your guts before Amber wakes. 

You make her tea. The routine is so simple and familiar. You savour each step. You marvel at the walls that once seemed plain and the house that isn’t so small as it is cozy. 

She smiles, her eyes still sleepy, as you give her a cup. You take your own, chamomile, and stand across the counter from her. You watch her and she gives you a grimace. 

“What?” 

“When’s Curtis coming back?” You ask. 

“Oh, bub, don’t worry about him. I don’t want to crowd you--” 

“But he’s your boyfriend. You miss him already, don’t you?” 

She giggles, “you’re teasing me.” 

You nod and laugh too. 

She rolls her eyes, “he’ll be back when he’s back.” 

“He’s sure strong. And tall. And he has nice eyes,” you goad. 

“Quit,” she sticks her tongue out. 

You almost shake with amusement. It feels good not to be so afraid. “I’m glad you had him, Amb. You shouldn’t be alone. Ever.” 

“He... he’s been a help.” she says. “But, bub, there’s some things we can’t do on our own.” 

You deflate. Right. Back to reality. 

“I think we should take your journal to the police. I found that card you had tucked in there for that officer, Jones? Maybe they can help--” 

“What? My journal?” You yipe. “Please, no, they can’t-- no one else can read it.” 

She sets her cup down and her expression sobers, “I know it’s hard and it’s entirely up to you. Always. I’m not telling you what to do, I’m letting you know you have options. But I want you to think about it, okay?” 

Your nose tingles with unspent tears. She leans forward. “Bubba, there were other children there. Are you sure... you were the only woman? What if they find another like you?” 

You flinch and shake your head, “what? No—no. I...” you tried not to think of it before but you’re not stupid. They won’t just give up, even if it’s not you. 

“Look, you don’t have to decide today. There’s a lot more to deal with. For both of us. So let’s just have one day where we don’t think.” 

You stare at her. You want that so badly but you don’t know if you can stop. The worry stirs constantly, simmering and threatening to boil over. Yet for her you can try. 

“Okay,” you agree. “Let’s do that.”