#so many words only for bee to be in brain

[bikerjongho]

@tristeetconfus btw -- jongho is next in the sinisterwise series if i ever get to it. i have about 4.5k words (💀) so far

fuck it, snippet of jonghos fic in the sinisterwise universe

[nicksolemnlyswears]

THE BEAR AND THE BEE HIVE

summary: in which carmy falls for the sweet café owner that supplies him with endless americanos

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

word count: 14.4k

warning: it's a little bit of a slow burn. sorry. i'm a sucker for it and i feel like carmy is a slow burn kinda guy. 18 +, cursing, smut, p in v, oral (m. receiving), fingering, they use protection guys! i deserve a pat in the back. nothing too wild. oh, and very brief mention of suicide.

a/n: i started writing this way back in october and then it was nearly done and i abandoned it. well i finally got around to completing it tonight!

this is my first time ever writing for carmy and i tried my best writing this. i love carmy and the show but i didn’t expect it to be hard to write him as a character. i wanted to get him right so i took my time with it and didn’t rush it. hopefully you guys like my carmy. enjoy!

i think i've had this stored in my drafts for like 4 months and it's time for me to set it free.

The cigarettes were not enough anymore. No matter how many smoke breaks Carmy took, he still felt the edge on his shoulders. A fear laced with anxiety that overtook him.

After deciding that blowing through yet another wall in his restaurant was the way to go, Carmy took a break. He needed it before he used the sledgehammer to destroy the restaurant in its entirety, along with his dream.

He remembers a coffee shop only a block away from The Bear and thinks he could use a coffee right about now. Maybe the mixture of caffeine and nicotine will be able to relax his shoulders, if only for an hour.

As soon as he opens the door, the smell of ground coffee beans greets him. He looks around, taking in the cozy ambiance the decorative wood brings to the place and the splashes of warm yellow that lighten it up.

Then he sees you, and his focus shifts entirely. His eyes only see you.

"Hi, welcome to Bee Hive!" You chirp with a small smile.

Carmy freezes, forgetting why he's there in the first place. He slowly steps up to the register, where you patiently wait for him. It's just after the lunch rush, so you're in no hurry.

He finds he's acting like a teenager who has just seen a pretty girl. Only he's not a teenager, and you're more than a pretty girl.

"What can I get for you today?" You ask, not noticing the effect you've had on him. You take a sharpie out of your yellow apron, preparing to scribble down his order in a cup.

Carmy has perfected the empty on the outside but screaming on the inside face. Strangers don't tend to know he's almost always losing his shit.

"I-I don't…sorry," Carmy looks at you briefly before diverting his eyes. He apologizes in a flurry, looking for an excuse for his weird behavior, "Uh, it's my first time here. What do you recommend?"

"It's not a problem," you say softly as if to calm him, "I'm a simple girl. I love the latte, but if you're looking for something stronger, the americano is one of the favorites."

Carmy nods as you ramble about the drinks, where the coffee beans come from, and the different notes of each blend. He hangs onto every word that slips from your lips. The static in his brain clearing up for the first time in hours.

It ends too soon as you realize you're talking too much and probably overwhelmed him. You sheepishly smile at him and trail off, but he continues to stare, waiting for you to continue.

"I'll take the Americano," Carmy nods, giving you a tight-lipped smile. Although he had been hanging to every one of your words, he was too focused on the shape of your lips and the sweet tone of your voice.

"Good choice," you nod, grabbing a cup from the tray beside you, "What's your name?"

Carmy looks up, slightly alarmed, as if you've asked for his social security number. "What?" He thinks you'll be forward and ask for his number next, seemingly forgetting how coffee orders work.

"Your name? For the order?" You explain, trying to ease his worries. He's odd, but in an endearing way. You believe this is his first time here because you're confident you would've remembered him.

"Fuck, right, yeah," he nervously says, pinching the bridge of his nose, "My name's Carmen."

"Your Americano will be right out, Carmen," you tell him, capping your sharpie back up.

Carmy quickly pays and stands to the side to wait for his order. He forces himself to not look at you or in your direction as you take other customers' orders. He just knows he's made a fool of himself already. Not that it matters. Why would it matter? He's there for the coffee. Nothing else, no one else.

As he walks out of Bee Hive, he sips his coffee. His shoulders instantly drop, and his fear-induced anxiety starts to dissipate for the moment. He's unsure if the effect is because of the caffeine or the thoughts of your pretty smile.

Visiting your coffee shop becomes routine for Carmy. Whenever things at The Bear become crazy -or he starts to lose his fuckin' mind- he makes his way to Bee Hive with a cigarette hanging from his lips.

For twenty minutes, he's free of Richie's constant hounding, Sugar's struggles with the permits and scheduling, and Sydney's disappointment because the menu is still extremely underway.

Each time he's stopped by, you've been there to greet him, and each time, you've left a little heart by Carmen's name, which makes his heart race in a peculiar way. His hands would touch his chest to check if it was heartburn, but it didn't feel like that. It's not anxiety either cause he knows pretty well how that feels.

All he knows is he hasn't done anything to deserve such a gesture. He's convinced himself you draw little hearts for everyone because he's not special.

One Thursday afternoon, Carmy realizes he doesn't know your name. He looks for a name tag, but you're not wearing one on your yellow apron. He should know your name if you insist on making small talk despite his short answers.

He can't help it. He gets too in his head to answer like a normal person, so his answers come out choppy and dry.

"Alright, Carmen, your order will be right out," you say, handing his cup to one of the baristas. You always hold out and ask him what he wants to order. He has the right to change his mind anytime, but for now, he's stuck with the americano, which he drowns in sugar.

As curiosity eats at him, he gathers the courage to ask. "Thanks. Hey, uh, I've-I’ve never gotten your name…” Carmy says, cursing at himself for not formulating the question correctly. His hand comes up to grip his hair instinctually.

Your smile widens when he asks your name. The silly crush you've developed for your customer fluttering to life. It's just a crush over a stranger, nothing to write home about.

You tell him your name but follow it with "-call me Honey. Everyone knows me by that name. I'm sure if you ask my friends about me with my real name, you'll throw them for a loop."

You're rambling, hoping he doesn't think calling you by your nickname is weird. Then again, how can he judge when he has a sister people call 'Sugar' and he and his siblings also don the nickname 'Bear.'

"Honey." Carmy repeats your nickname, smiling as he finds it fitting. "In that case, call me Carmy."

"Nice to properly meet you, Carmy," you say, grinning.

Like all the days before, Carmy steps aside and waits for his coffee. He doesn't let himself continue the conversation or ask more about you even if it’s everything he wants to do.

It's rare for Carmy to be in a good mood, and whenever it happens, it doesn't tend to last. His goal of opening a restaurant in 12 weeks makes it impossible for him to relax and enjoy the ride. To prolong this unusual feeling, Carmy stops by Bee Hive on his way to The Bear.

"Have you made your boss angry, Honey?" He asks as he pulls out his wallet to pay. He ordered the americano as he always does.

"No…why do you ask?" You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

"Uh, 'cause you-you're always here. Do you not take days off? Not that I'm complaining. I-I like seeing you here." Carmy's words get quieter as he speaks, red creeping up his neck. So much for trying to make a joke.

You look around the room and tell him, "Imma let you in on a little secret."

Carmy follows your hand, waving him to get closer. The smell of cigarettes invades your senses as you get close to him. You'd never admit that the mix of his cigarettes and your coffee is addicting. As both lean over the counter, you whisper, "I'm the boss. I can't run away even if I wanted to."

"You own the coffee shop," Carmy pans in shock.

Carmy is more than surprised at your words. Especially now that he knows how expensive it is to open a business. You can't be a day over 25 and own a successful coffee place. There is hope, after all.

"I do," you nod, standing straight once more.

A couple of years ago, you had inherited a hefty amount of money from an estranged aunt. Fresh out of college and with no real plan, you thought it would be a good moment to follow your dream and open the cozy café.

"How do you do it?" Carmy asks, amazed at the girl smiling at him. "I don't know if you know, but, um, I-I'm opening the restaurant around the block. Used to be The Beef?" He finishes grimly as he points to his side of the block.

"Oh, yeah. The guys who worked there helped me move some equipment when I first opened two years ago," you reveal, "Tell you what, whenever you have a break, come around. I'll give you a free americano and tell you all about it. Neighbor to neighbor."

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Carmy agrees. "I'll take you up on that."

Weeks go by, and Carmy seemingly forgets about Bee Hive and your pending conversation. You try not to overthink about his absence or how you might've scared him away. He's probably just busy remodeling his restaurant. You know better than anyone how much time that takes.

Still, his presence has become part of your routine, and you can't help but look at the door each time the bell rings. You expect to see him walking up to the counter, the remnants of cigarette smoke coming out his nose as he breathes.

You're pretty close to your assumption because Carmy has been dealing with the fire suppression test. They didn't fail the test once but twice, and if they didn't pass it on the third try, their plan to open the restaurant in 12 weeks goes out the window. Fak has tried everything, and nothing works.

He'd sent Richie once on a coffee run, but the fuckin' idiot went to the nearest Starbucks. Carmy had been looking forward to tasting your coffee and seeing his name in the cup with the little heart because he's 100% sure he's the only Carmen you know. It's not a common name in these parts of town.

One very early morning, he's walking to work, and as he passes Bee Hive, he sees you inside, wiping tables down before you open at 6:30.

Impulsively, he knocks on the glass, not giving himself the time to overthink things. You turn to look at the window and see him standing outside, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his familiar plaid jacket to protect himself from the chilly March air.

"Hey stranger," you greet him, opening the door and inviting him in.

"Hi," he breathes out, staring at you, "you're here early," he tries to casually mention.

You roll your eyes dramatically and say, "It's a downside of the job. Did you know people want coffee at the crack of dawn?"

You try acting as nonchalant as possible. It's not like you missed seeing one of your favorite customers, his beautiful blue eyes, or the way he rocks a simple white t-shirt.

"I had no idea," Carmy smiles, bringing his tattooed hand up to his lips, "I, uh, usually drink mine at night." That much is true. On those sleepless nights when insomnia takes over him, the best remedy is coffee.

"Would you make an exception and join me for a morning coffee at the crack ass of dawn?" Anxiously, you play with the rings on your fingers. It feels like you're asking the guy on a date when it's just a friendly coffee.

"As long as you have some business advice to spare?" Carmy responds shakily. He briefly looks down the street to glimpse at his restaurant. It's too early for anyone to be there yet.

"Deal."

Throwing the towel over your shoulder, you make your way behind the counter. Carmy attempts to make small talk with you as you prepare both drinks.

This is the first time he's watching you in action since you tend to stick to the cash register when he's around. It's not a coincidence. After the first time he came to Bee Hive, you wanted to see more of him, so you stationed yourself at the register where you'd be sure to see him, and he'd see you.

"Here you go." You place his coffee mug on the table along with yours before disappearing momentarily and returning with an orange soufflé coffee cake. You're pulling all the stops for Carmy to leave a good impression.

Carmy thanks you and sips his coffee, "Wow, this is fire!" He expected to taste an americano, but what you prepared was entirely different. He can make out hints of hazelnut and caramel in the coffee.

"Thanks. I took the liberty of changing your order. You can always come back to the americano, though…" you shrug shyly, looking at him over the rim of your mug.

"I-I appreciate it. Thanks." Carmy throws you a nervous grin. He gestures with his tattooed hand to dig into the cake you brought out. He shouldn't be the only one eating.

You and Carmy share the cake as you talk about yourselves and the crazy businesses you own. Somehow, talking to you comes easy to him. He's still nervous and scared to fuck things up, but the warm coffee and your even warmer smile ease him into it.

"How do you do it? This place is always packed, and you seem like you run a tight ship," Carmy wonders, playing with the fork. The cake is long gone, although the notes of orange remain on his tongue. Would you taste the same?

"It wasn't without mistakes. I had to learn a lot from my fuck ups and listen to my team because although I'm the owner, they are the ones doing most of the work. Whenever there's a flaw, they are the first to know," you speak softly, afraid of ruining the calm ambiance you've set up, twirling the small amount of coffee left in your mug.

It's your favorite part of morning coffee. When you have just the smallest bit of coffee left, and you know you'll never drink it because it's cold, but it gives you an excuse to remain where you are.

"So, all I gotta do is listen?" It's funny you say that because Carmy listens, but his friend's voices get muddled somewhere along the way. As much as he tries to focus on them, they merge together and form a cacophony in his head.

"A lot of listening and a lot of experimentation. I've been open for two years, and it's only been in the last six months that I can confidently tell you we found our groove," you admit with a grimace.

Bee Hive is your baby, but bringing it to life was everything but easy. You messed up so many times, costing you so much money. You didn't know shit about owning a business or building one from the ground up. Doing research and putting your pride aside to ask for help got you through it.

"I've only been doing this for, like, less than a fuckin' year, and I already want to pull my hair out," Carmy admits with a pitiful laugh.

"I'm sorry I can't tell you it gets better soon," you say apologetically, reaching for his hand that rests on the table.

Carmy freezes, glancing at your hand on top of his. He hasn't got a clue what to fucking do with the display of affection. Was it a display of affection? He doesn't fucking know. "It's, uh, it's, uh, it's alright. As-as long as you give me coffee, I think I can make it through," Carmen furrows his eyebrows as he stutters through the sentence.

"I can't wait to see what the award-winning chef does," you say, bringing your hand back to your lap, none the wiser to Carmy's internal struggle.

He should've done something to keep your hand on his. Place his other hand on yours or fucking turn his hand around to grasp it. He liked feeling your warm skin on his. It hasn't been a minute since you pulled away, and he's craving it already. It's ridiculous. Is he really that touch-starved that he's seeking affection from a near stranger?

He coughs and darts his eyes between the wooden table top and you, "Fuck. You-you know about that?"

"I might've done some research after finding out you're opening the restaurant. I got curious. I'm sorry." Apologizing is your default thing to do. Messing things up is your area of expertise. You really didn't think he'd mind you mentioning it.

"No, no, no, uh, you don't have to apologize. You just caught me off guard," Carmy shakes his head, reassuring both of you.

"Okay, good," you lightly smile at him, averting your eyes when your gazes meet.

If there's a time for you to make a move, it's now. Taking a shaky breath, you speak up, "I was wondering if you'd ever like to-."

A loud knock on the glass door interrupts you. You and Carmy jump and look towards the source of the noise. It's one of your regular clients, waving at you to open up. Looking at your watch, you see it's 6:30 already.

"Shit. I'm-I'm sorry I took so much of your time," Carmy apologizes, picking up his mug and the plate to put away.

You grab his wrist to make him stop in his tracks, "Relax. I enjoyed talking to you. Maybe we can do it again soon?"

Carmy nods wide-eyed. He likes the idea just as much as you do. You take away the mug and plate with a soft 'okay.' He then follows you to the door as you unlock it and turn the sign to 'open.'

"I, um, gotta go work on the menu. I'll probably be back later for another coffee?" Carmen asks you as if he's asking for permission, which you find adorable.

"I'll be behind the register," you say, watching him walk away. He turns his head back for a moment, and you catch the smile gracing his lips as yours turns to mimic him.

"Oh, he's cute," your customer, an older lady, says, watching him go along with you. "It's about time you got a boyfriend."

"Mrs. O'Hara, here for your tea?" You ask her, ignoring the comment about your love life. That woman will set you up with anyone. She does love her tea, though, and expects you to provide it on time.

It's slow, but Carmen warms up to you. Instead of grabbing his coffee to go, he now drinks it at the café, coincidentally around the same time you take your break.

He's been hesitantly opening up. It's not like he's telling you about how fucked up his family is or how his brother committed suicide. More often, it's about the restaurant and his work as a chef, the struggles of getting every permit they need on a tight schedule since they are supposed to open in about four weeks now, or the occasional childhood memory. It's everything you need to know at this stage.

You love listening to Carmy talk, even if you have to coax it out of him sometimes. He's passionate about the restaurant despite all the stress that comes from it, and he adores the people he works with. He's shy but not in a dorky way because he's actually fascinating. Before meeting him, you never knew that collecting denim was a thing.

The smell of cigarettes that clings to him is also tightly laced with his character. When you step outside to get some sun and the scent of someone smoking hits you, your heart instantly speeds up, hoping it's him coming for his daily americano, or to come swoop you away into a sunset.

"-I fell on my ass in the middle of the street. I was freaking out, thinking I was gonna get run over by a car," you exclaim as you tell Carmy about the crazy Christmas you spent in New York last year.

"It's New York. You probably would have been run over," Carmy chuckles along with you. "There was this one time I was running late and-" His phone vibrating interrupts him.

"Sorry, it's just the fridge guy," he tells you with a furrow of his eyebrows. You notice he does that a lot when he's thinking deeply. Carmy silences it and looks back over to you.

"You should pick that up. A busted fridge is the last thing you need. Trust me. Been there, done that." You encourage him to take the call. The restaurant is more important than your story about how you bruised your coccyx in New York.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Carm! Call him back before you forget," you insist, grabbing his empty cup to trash it. You don't give him any other option, leaving him there to help your employees with a faulty machine.

He watches you closely, closer than ever before. He allows himself to watch how you frown at the machine and how your ringed fingers fumble with the knobs. His eyes keep trailing down involuntarily, and they take in how nicely your jeans hug your ass.

He goes into a spiral into these old pair of Levi jeans popular in the 90s and how they would fit nicely with the shape of your hips and legs. Carmy continues on the tangent, imagining himself peeling them off your body.

The phone vibrating in his hand snaps him out of it. Clearing his throat, he picks up the phone and walks outside. He waves at you through the window as he makes his way back to The Bear. Your frustration at the machine vanishes momentarily as you wave back, except the machine splatters, forcing you to redirect your attention. When you look outside again, he's gone.

Stakes are high at The Bear. There's less than four weeks until Friends and Family, and there is much to do. Marcus has returned from Copenhagen and is working on the desserts. Tina is doing her job as the new sous chef. Fak and Sweeps are helping out wherever they can. And Richie is being Richie, trying to be open but resisting change.

"I need coffee or a pop. Anything with caffeine," Sydney says, throwing her head back. She and Carmen have been working on the chaos menu for hours, and she keeps messing up. Carmy insists that it's okay that they'll adjust and get it right soon, but she's beginning to lose hope.

"Me too. I'd kill for an espresso," Natalie agrees, softly rubbing her hand over her growing bump.

"I thought you couldn't have caffeine cause of the baby," Richie mentions, remembering Tiff's time while pregnant.

"I don't need you to fuckin' tell me what I can or can't eat, Richie," Natalie yells, glaring at him. Although he's right, the doctor told her to limit her caffeine intake. Hard to do when she's up all night thinking about everything she needs to do for The Bear.

"Shit. I'm sorry for fucking caring," Richie screams back, lifting his hands up in defense.

"I can go to the coffee place down the block. Get everyone something," Carmy pipes up, looking forward to seeing you today.

Natalie is quick to shoot that idea down, "You can't. The fridge guy is coming in 20 minutes."

"Fuck, that's right," Carmy groans, digging his head in his hands. His fingers rake through his hair, messing up his curls. He wanted to see you and talk to you, even if it was for five short minutes.

"I'll go," Sydney sighs. She needs to leave the kitchen for more than five minutes, or she'll go crazy, "Just tell me what you guys want to order."

Natalie grumbles about getting decaf, Richie orders a plain black coffee, and Carmy asks for his americano. As Sydney leaves to ask Marcus, Carmy yells after her, "Please, go to Bee Hive. If you get Starbucks, I'm gonna fucking lose it."

Richie and Natalie exchange a look. Richie because he's confused, and Natalie because she knows something is happening with Carmy. He's never been picky over coffee. In fact, they have an old coffee machine in the office that now goes unused because he's always at that coffee shop.

"Sorry, I didn't get the fuckin' memo. Since when is Starbucks bad?" Richie frowns, looking to get a rise out of Carmy.

"I don't think it's about the coffee, cousin," Natalie responds, directing her gaze towards her brother, who is hunched over the counters, chopping vegetables.

"If it's not about the coffee, what is it about?" Richie questions, crossing his arms.

"Shut the fuck up, Sugar," Carmy grumbles, looking at his sister with a glare. He already knows where she's going. She tried to bring it up a couple of days ago after she walked by the coffee shop and saw him being friendly with you.

Natalie smiles and responds, "Carmy has a crush on the barista."

"That's ridiculous. I don't have a crush on her." Carmy shakes his head, avoiding Richie and Natalie's eyes on him. They always do this. They gang up on him if he shows even the slightest interest in a girl. They think they can help, but all they do is embarrass him.

"Come on, Bear. Why else would you go almost every day to get coffee?" Natalie asks, giving him a look.

"Because it's good fuckin' coffee. Jesus, it's not that deep." Carmy grabs the veggies he chopped and drops them into a container to use later.

"It's okay to admit you like a pretty girl, cousin! I'm excited for you! Makes you human and not a lonely hermit," Richie jokes, pushing on Carmy's buttons. "When was the last time you got laid?"

"I swear to God, Richie. Shut the fuck up," Carmy points at him angrily.

"No, I should go with Sydney and see who this girl is!" Richie says, walking out of the half-built kitchen.

Carmy follows him instantly, "You're not going fuckin' anywhere, fuckin' jagoff." He's turning red from anger, seeing Richie with his mocking smile. Natalie follows behind them, amused at the situation. It reminds her of the banters they used to get in with Mickey.

"Admit that you like her," Richie shrugs, giving him a choice.

"No, I won't," Carmy refuses. "You always do this shit."

"Then, I'm going," Richie nods, stepping towards the door.

"Fuck! Shit, alright. I like her, okay? Don't fucking go anywhere," Carmy yells, rubbing a hand on his face out of frustration. It's like he's not allowed to keep anything good to himself.

"Was that so hard?" Richie grins, clapping a hand on Carmy's shoulder.

"Don't fuckin' touch me," Carmy grumbles, walking back to the kitchen. Natalie follows him with a smile, shaking her head at Richie.

Carmy sighs and squeezes his eyes shut. He has yet to admit that he likes you more than he should. He's been avoiding it, afraid of what it might lead to, or rather, what it might not.

He couldn't let Richie go see you. He has a big fuckin' mouth and will tell you Carmy has a crush on you whether it's true or not. Just like that, he feels the sour taste in his mouth, his heartburn making an appearance. Carmy should go look for his pepto before it gets worse.

Unaware of the argument back at The Bear, Sydney walks to Bee Hive. She's walked past many times but has yet to have the time to stop and try it out.

As she waits in line, she reads over the drinks menu. It's clear that it's been carefully curated. Starbucks has nothing on this menu. She can see why Carmy would prefer to come here instead.

When it's her turn to order, Sydney takes out her phone to recite everyone's drink order. She also points to a few pastries, thinking Marcus would like to try some of them and get inspiration. That and she knows Natalie will enjoy them as well.

You're sitting at a table close to the pickup counter. You often find yourself all over the store, ensuring everything goes smoothly. Sometimes, you stop to talk to your regulars and see how they're doing.

You notice Sydney struggling with all the cups she has to carry. It's proving difficult despite the to-go trays your barista put them in. Deciding to approach her, you ask, "Do you need help?"

"Oh, no. I'm fine, thanks," Sydney responds with a nervous smile. She's trying hard to grab everything, including the box with the pastries.

You continue watching her struggle because you know she needs help. You let her try and figure it out for one more minute before stepping in again when she almost drops two of the drinks, "Need some help now?"

"Yeah," Sydney sighs, "I guess I can leave one of the trays here, go to the restaurant, and come back for the rest," she speaks mostly to herself.

"Are you going far?"

"No, just the restaurant down the block," Sydney responds with a sigh, scratching her eyebrow as she tries to figure out the logistics of carrying the drinks. She could get a box to put everything in.

You perk up at her response. The only restaurant down the block is Carmen's. Could she work there? "Carmy's restaurant?"

"You know Carmy?" Sydney asks, tilting her head. Maybe Nat was right. Carmy spends his time here because of the woman in front of her.

"He comes here often. Anyway, I can go with you to help you out. It's not far, and I'd feel bad if your drinks got cold." You offer to help her out because you're a nice person. Not because you want a chance to see the curly-haired man you are developing feelings for.

"You really don't have to…"

"It's really not a problem," you press, grabbing one of the to-go trays and motioning for her to lead the way.

Sydney sighs in defeat and nods, "Thanks. I'm Sydney, by the way."

"I'm Honey," you smile, following her outside.

You chat all the way to the restaurant with Sydney. She reminds you of Carmy in some ways, so you can see why they are friends. Before arriving at the restaurant, Sydney apologizes in advance for any sort of mess there might be, including yelling.

As you near the building under renovation, your palms start to sweat. Maybe you shouldn't have come. You're showing up unannounced, and he's probably too busy to talk to you anyway. You can slip in and out without him noticing. That's the goal now.

You open the door for Sydney, letting her go through first, and quietly follow her into the restaurant. There's no time to escape, as all eyes are instantly on you.

Richie is arguing with Fak when he sees you walk in. He narrows his eyes as Carmy looks in your direction from the kitchen. With just one glance to Carmy's face, he knows who you're supposed to be.

"Guess I didn't have to go anywhere. She came to me," Richie whispers, rushing out the door.

"Shut the fuck up. Where are you going? Don't embarrass me!" Carmy whispers out to Richie unsuccessfully.

"Oh, you'll do that all by yourself," Richie throws over his shoulder.

"Honey, hey, what-what're you doing here?" Carmy speaks, not giving Richie a chance to open his big mouth. He stands between you and Richie, blocking him for the time being.

"Sydney needed help with the drinks," you answer nervously, averting your eyes.

"Oh, thanks for that. You didn't have to," Carmy approaches you and takes the drinks from your hands. His fingers brush with yours momentarily, causing you both to blush.

"I did, or else you probably wouldn't have anything to drink," you whisper to him.

Sydney, Fak, and Richie all watch the interaction amusedly. Richie has a big teasing grin on his face as he makes a plan in his head.

"Hi, I'm Richie! Carmy's cousin," he introduces himself, shoving Carmy to the side and shaking your hand enthusiastically. "I gotta say Carmen right here is obsessed with your coffee. He's banned us from getting Starbucks."

Carmy curses under his breath as Richie does precisely what he tells him not to. He has the urge to throw the coffee at him and run away.

"Is that right?" You ask, amused, looking over at Carmy with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh yeah," Richie answers for him as Carmy tries to find the right words to say. "Cousin, why don't you give the nice lady a tour of the place?"

"It's not done yet. Could be dangerous," Carmy hopelessly says with a gulp.

"Nonsense! You'll take care of her!" Richie insists. He takes the coffee from Carmy's hands and pushes him in your direction. "Go give her a tour."

Richie, Sydney, and Fak all disappear to the office to stay out of the way and try to snoop simultaneously. Fak sends Carmy a not-so-discreet thumbs-up that makes you giggle.

He's internally screaming at his so-called friends but is glad to see you. It was all he wanted before Sydney left to get their drinks. It's strange having you here at The Bear, though. He's so used to seeing you in your own space back at Bee Hive.

Trying to make things better, you say, "Sorry you've been roped into this. You probably have better things to do. I can go-"

Carmy doesn't let you finish. "No, stay. I want to show you around."

"Let's see what you got then, Berzatto," you grin, following him to the kitchen.

Carmy takes his time showing you The Bear. He wants you to stay. He wants to spend time with you but doesn't really know how to say it. So he takes it slow, answers your questions about the restaurant, shows you the front and how everything will be laid out, and introduces you to the ones around, including the fridge guy working on the handle.

Sadly, you get a call from Bee Hive asking you to come back. Carmy walks you outside, dreading having to say goodbye.

"I'm really excited for The Bear to open. You have a great place and team," you tell Carmy.

"I really got lucky with them, huh?" He asks, playing with a dish towel.

"I gotta go. I'll see you later, Berzatto." You don't know where you got the guts to lean towards him and kiss his cheek.

Carmy stays still as his face heats up. You start walking away and throw him a smile over your shoulder. When you're a distance away, he touches the cheek you kissed. Back inside, Richie runs over to Sugar to tell her what he just witnessed.

It's late when Carmy leaves The Bear. As he walks to the train station, he has his hands stuffed in his jacket pocket. On his way, he sees a lone light turned on in your café. Crossing the street to check it out, he sees you're still there with glasses perched on your nose in front of the computer.

He tries the door, and to his luck, it's open. You look in his direction, startled, but relax once you see it's him.

"Nice glasses," Carmy teases, pulling out a chair to sit.

"Are you making fun of me?" You purse your lips, propping your chin on your palm.

"No, I…I think you look cute with them," Carmy admits. After a stern talk from Sugar and Richie, he's realized he should probably make a proper move on you because if what they say is true, you also have a crush on him.

"Thanks," you blush, the light from your screen making it obvious to Carmy, who can't stop the corners of his lips from turning up into a smile.

"Late night?"

"One of my baristas is moving out of state. I have to find someone new, preferably who has experience," you say with a sigh. Glancing at him, you add, "Are you perhaps interested in the position?"

"Poaching me from my own restaurant, nice. I'll let you know I'm an excellent worker," Carmy jokes, tapping his fingers on the table.

There's no doubt in your mind he's an excellent worker. He has to be if he's considered one of the best up-and-coming chefs. Or to work in one of the best restaurants in the world with three Michelin stars.

"I don't know. I'll need references," you speak as if not believing him.

Carmy smiles and softly chuckles, "Fair enough."

There's a moment of silence between the two of you that Carmy is quick to fill, "So, uh, have you had dinner yet by chance?" This is it.

You shake your head no and look at him with hopeful eyes.

"Wanna go grab pizza? I know a place," he asks, finding your gaze on him.

"Say no more," you say, closing your laptop and taking off your glasses. "I'm starving."

Carmy waits for you to lock Bee Hive and grab your things. Then, you both walk to the pizza place. To pass the time, you and Carmy talk about your days and anything that comes to mind. Nothing serious as you get to know each other.

Waiting in line to order the pizza, you tell him all about your nickname and how you were donned 'Honey' to everyone who knows you. In return, he tells you about his nickname 'Bear' and why his restaurant is named as such. For the first time, he dares mention Mickey.

"Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy says, taking a slice of the pie and placing it on your plate.

"I'll see about that," you murmur. You wait until he has a slice of his own and dig in simultaneously.

"It's good, but this is not the best pizza place in Chicago," you say after chewing the first bite, "I'm gonna get your chef license revoked."

"Are you? With what proof? Have you tried all the pizza places to know?"

"I don't have to because I've tried the best," you hum, taking another bite. The cheese stretches as you pull it away.

"Oh yeah? Which one?" Carmy questions you, taking a drink of his beer.

"Mine. The pizza I make is the best," you shrug modestly.

"Wait. You cook?" Carmy asks, giving you a look of surprise.

Cooking is a universal thing. Most people know how to cook up to a degree, yet only some are as confident in their skills as you are. You know you're definitely not up to Carmy's level, but if there is something you know how to do properly, it's pizza.

"Yeah! You're not the only good cook here, Berzatto," you sass back at him, dipping the pizza crust in the marinara sauce.

"Sorry for assuming," he raises his palms.

"You're forgiven," you chirp.

"When will I try this famous pizza of yours then?" Carmy wonders. An attempt to see if you'd like to see more of him.

"I promise I'll make it for you once you open The Bear. You're too stressed to fully enjoy it now," you respond. You were reaching out. Throwing hints that you want this to continue in the foreseeable future.

The conversation continues to flow with an empty pizza box in front of you. Customers come and go until it's only the two of you and a drunk customer picking up his pizza.

"Tell me about your tattoos. Were they an act of rebellion or something else?"

It's an excuse to touch his hands. You reach for them, turning them to see the black ink on his hands and fingers. You gently trace over them with the pads of your fingers. Over the hand that's stabbed, the letters S.O.U. on his knuckles and the forget-me-nots. The one you're dying to touch, though, is the one on his bicep; you'd give anything to feel the hard muscle underneath the rolled-up sleeves of his white t-shirt.

"Uh, my first tattoo is the 773. Got it when I left Chicago for the first time. After that, I sort of became addicted to them. I found they helped my anxiety when it was becoming too much. The pain distracted me and made me feel stronger than I actually was," he says, letting you touch him. He finds that he likes it. Your touch is soft and warm. Comforting.

"So what you're trying to say is you're a masochist," you say, bouncing your eyebrows at him. Your touch goes further up his arm to turn it and look at the fish tattoo on his forearm.

"I guess so," Carmy responds with a breathy laugh, "Do you have any tattoos?"

"Maybe…" You shrug as the pads of your fingers trail back down to his palm until you pull them back towards you. Carmy instantly misses the feeling, opting to cross his arms to retain the warmth you left behind.

"It's bad, isn't it?" He says knowingly. Your reaction told him everything he needed to know.

"The worst," you grimace, shaking your head at the memory of you getting it.

"So, rebellion or something else?"

"Rebellion. For all the wrong reasons," you groan, burying your face in your hands, "Growing up, everyone saw me as a good girl because that's what I was. Breaking the rules terrified me. So, as a teenager, I didn't want to be seen as a goody two shoes, so the summer before I went to college, I decided that getting a tattoo would make me a badass."

"Did it work?"

"God, no. I only got the outline done 'cause it hurt like a bitch. Then I went crying to my parents, fully having a meltdown, apologizing for disappointing them," You scrunch your nose as you say the following words, "They laughed in my face, called me a wimp, and told me to suck it up."

Carmy fully laughs at your story. Head thrown back, eyes closing, "What did you get?"

"That's a secret, Berzatto," you purse your lips, avoiding responding. You just know he'll make fun of you for it.

Everyone who has seen your tattoo has made fun of you for it, yourself included. It's so silly and not badass. Carmy will have to wait to see your tattoo, and you hope this continues so he can see it up close.

"Really? That bad?" Carmy stares wide-eyed.

"It's terrible," you nod, leaning on the table. "We should probably get going before the waitress throws a fit."

Carmy looks over his shoulder to see the waitress glaring at them. It's five minutes till close, and they've made no move to go. He turns back to you and nods towards the door. Carmy helps you with your jacket and leaves a tip on the jar for the waitress. At that, she happily calls after them with a 'Good night!'

"Do you live far?" Carmy asks, seeing how dark it is now that most places have closed. There are too many lamp posts that aren't working. He'd feel better if he could walk you home or you called an Uber. Preferably the former.

"Only a couple of blocks away. Why?"

"It's late. Let me walk you home," Carmy says decidedly, not giving you much of a choice.

"Thanks," you respond with a small smile.

The pace you set is slow. You don't want your time with Carmy to end just yet. He's such an interesting and sweet guy. He's a little awkward, but it adds to his charm, and you can see he's trying.

Somewhere along the way, his hand brushes against yours briefly. Then, it happens again, and you decide to bite the bullet. You grasp his hand in yours.

"Is this okay?" You ask when he falls silent.

Carmy doesn't have a lot of experience with girls. He can't even remember the last time he held a girl's hand. All he knows is he doesn't remember ever feeling this good. "Yes, uh, this is okay."

Carmy walks you up to your front door when you reach your house. You unlock the door but stay outside face-to-face with Carmy.

"Thanks for the pizza," you say, fiddling with your fingers. You were about to make one more move for the night. Because as long as Carmy allows you, you'll keep pushing for more.

"Sorry, it wasn't the best," he retorts, rubbing his jaw with his hand. You notice he does that a lot when nervous.

"Your company made up for it," you reassure him, "g'night Carmy." You kiss his cheek goodbye, watching as his cheeks blush.

"Night," he whispers.

As you turn to leave, Carmy stops you by grabbing your wrist, "Wait-uh, can I? Uh-shit. Fuck it." For a second, Carmy shuts out the excessive thoughts in his head and does what he's been dying to do for weeks.

Carmy cups your jaw and kisses you. It's soft and slow. He gives you enough leeway to pull away if it's something you don't want, but you reciprocate eagerly. You've been waiting for this all night.

As confidence surges through his body, Carmy throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You wrap your arms around him, one of your hands resting on his neck, tangling on his curls. The tug of your fingers feels like heaven.

The kiss turns needy and desperate, your lips moving perfectly in sync. His tongue brushes over your lip; Carmy has been dying to test a theory. Are you as sweet as your name?

He's rewarded by a little noise in the back of your throat as he slips his tongue into your mouth. It's endearing, and he finds a way to make you do it again. With heads tilting to deepen the kiss, he concludes he was right. You're pure honey. Sweet and addicting.

When Carmy returns to his apartment, he gets the urge to create, to cook. He wants to bring your taste to life with his cooking. Something with honey.

"I was wondering if you'd want to come to the restaurant for Family and Friends."

You and Carmy are in your little office at Bee Hive. He stands between your legs as you sit on the desk. His lips are slightly red and swollen, and the hair at the nape of his neck is messier than usual.

"Hm, I could be persuaded," you pretend to think as you play with the golden chain around his neck, pulling him towards you.

"Yeah?" Carmy laughs, leaning to brush his lips against yours. When he feels you nod, he closes the small gap between the two of you.

His hands hold your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. He tastes like coffee, which is to be expected from the discarded cup beside you. It's funny how your relationship, if it could be called that, has moved all around Bee Hive from the register to the front and now to your office.

You're at a weird spot where you're not exactly friends because friends don't kiss, but you're not a couple either. It's a situationship for sure. You're content with what you have now, although you'd also love it if Carmy were to ask you to be more. You pin it on him being shy. He'll get around to it.

"What do you say?" Carmy questions as he kisses a trail from your cheek to your jaw.

"Consider me in," you giggle when he kisses a tickly spot.

Carmy brushes a strand of hair out of your face, remaining close to you. This is what he needs. After months of stress and anxiety of having to deal with The Beef, now The Bear, he needed you and your calming presence. Someone removed from the chaos, a safe haven.

He's quiet as his thoughts consume him, and you take the intimate position to fix his gold chain. Turning it so the clasp faces the back instead of the front. "I'm excited, Carmy," you say with a smile, brushing his cheek with your thumb.

"You can bring someone with you," Carmy offers nervously because he realizes he probably won't have the time to spend much time with you. "I-I don't think I'll be around much. I'm sorry. I'd understand if that makes you change your mind," Carmy drops his head as he braces himself for disappointment.

As the weeks pass, you learn more about Carmy and his insecurities. It doesn't deter you from wanting to be with him. Everyone has their issues. "Berzatto, stop. Look at me," you softly divert his attention, "I'd love to go and support you even if it's from the sidelines."

"You sure?" He asks once more.

If reassurance is what he needs, that's what you'll give. "Don't worry about me. This is your moment, Carmy. Enjoy it. I'll be around afterward."

"Thank you for understanding," Carmy responds, stealing one more kiss from you.

When he returns to The Bear, he helps Sydney prep the dishes they finally chose to serve. He notes how everything is laid out and anything they should fix before opening.

Richie struts into the kitchen with a suit on. Apparently, it's his thing now. Carmy figures staging at Chef Terry's restaurant had a good impact on him. All Carmy wanted was to show Richie he had what it takes. That he's not a fuck up.

"Glad to see things are going well with Honey," Richie thunders.

"What are you talking about?" Carmy says in a rush as he plates the lamb expertly.

"That thing on your neck," Richie says, motioning to his own neck. He has a smug look on his face.

"I don't have time for this, cousin," Carmy grumbles, wiping the plate where the sauce might've splattered.

Groaning, Richie grabs one of the new pans and holds it in front of Carmy. "I don't see anything," he frowns, looking at Richie for an explanation.

"Right here," Richie points towards the edge of his t-shirt around his neck.

Carmy pulls it back and finally spots what Richie has been referring to. There is a fading purple bruise on his skin, a hickey. You must've done it when he was back in your office. He'd been too busy touching you to notice.

Sydney, silently watching, pipes up, "No wonder he hasn't been as on edge lately." Carmy shoots her a glare, which causes her to shrug and laugh with a, "What? It's true."

"Ay, yo, Sugar, get in here!" Richie yells down the hall to the office.

"What is it?" Natalie barges in, afraid something went to shit.

Carmy ignores Richie as he babbles to Natalie what he found. His face is red, though, as Sydney nudges his side.

"That's enough about me. We have shit to do," Carmy shouts in his chef's voice.

Everyone in the kitchen, including Richie and Natalie, repeats, "Yes, chef!"

Walking out of the kitchen Richie, 'whispers' to Natalie, "I've always wondered if he likes to be called chef in bed."

"Fuck off, Richie," Natalie glares, but then it falls, and it's replaced with a teasing grin, "He definitely does."

"I heard that! Don't you two have better things to do?" Carmy screams at them.

"Yes, chef!"

Carmy keeps hearing Cicero's 'Uh-oh' throughout the whole day. He understands Cicero, he really does, but to call you a distraction?

His work with The Bear is only starting. They managed to make it to Friends and Family. Now, they have to keep up their best work to fill up the restaurant daily and have a waiting list. His work is far from done. He should listen to Cicero.

Cicero said it with the best of intentions. He doesn't want the Berzatto siblings to fail. He wants to believe they'll succeed and, most importantly, get him his money.

If there is something Cicero has learned throughout the years, it is that girls are distractions. They mean well, but oftentimes, they keep your eyes off the ball. Especially when it's a new relationship like Carmy's. Ultimately, it's up to Carmy to decide what he wants to do. Cicero has played his part by giving him his advice.

One last delivery is made to the restaurant an hour before opening. Richie is the one to receive it and place it in front of Carmy. "She's a keeper, Cousin," he says with a pointed look and a nod. He also wants the best for Carmy, and yet it doesn't align with Cicero.

You knew Carmy would be too stressed and all over the place to eat or drink, so you sent everyone at The Bear a drink and a pastry. One of the cups has Carmen's name with a little heart and 'good luck' written on it.

"Yeah, she is," Carmy sighs, turning the cup in his hands to look at the message. His thumb brushes over your handwriting longingly. Is listening to Cicero the wise thing to do? He's one of the most successful men he knows in his family.

When it's 10 minutes till open, Carmy changes into his uniform and looks in the mirror. His heart is racing, begging for Friends and Family not to be a complete failure. Walking out of the bathroom, Carmy is a man on a mission.

It starts relatively well, but like everything in Carmy's life, the kitchen starts welcoming in the chaos.

They are too slow getting the orders out, which causes Sydney to start doubting herself and asking Carmy to step in. He reassures her she's doing good. They just have to keep up the pace.

Then, one of the new chefs disappears mid-rush. Forcing Tina to work two stations and Marcus to step out of his to help Sydney. Carmy ignores some weird tension between them as he works on ensuring the dishes are good to go.

Next thing he knows, Sugar is rushing into the kitchen, yelling at him about forks. It's wasted time, as he can't do anything about it. A shrill reverberates inside his head as he looks at the ticking clock. It's enough to give him a headache.

With no one to take a dish to its table, Carmy takes it upon himself to do it. There's no time to re-fire or wait for someone. He places it on their table and pours the tea into their cups before retreating with an 'enjoy.'

He looks at his restaurant, and suddenly, the ringing in his head gets louder. Sitting in a booth is his old boss, staring back at him like he did back in New York. Like he was waiting for Carmy to fail.

His voice echoes in Carmy's head. Why are you so fuckin' slow. Hurry up. Go faster motherfucker. Talentless piece of shit.

Right before Carmy spirals, it all goes away. His focus shifts entirely as he sees you taking your seat for the night. The one he chose because he'd be able to see you from the kitchen. You have successfully blocked the mirage he'd conjured up.

You're there with your brother as Richie talks you up, thanking you for coming. As if sensing him, your eyes lock with Carmys. Shyly, you send him a wave, which he returns, thanking you in his head for getting there at the perfect time.

Carmy ducks back to the kitchen with newfound energy. Richie enters shortly after him.

"Chef, your girl is here."

"Thanks, Chef, um, do you have the notepad?" Carmy asks as he continues cleaning dishes and making sure each one is up to par.

"Here you go."

Taking the notepad from Richie, he begins scribbling. I love- No, too fuckin' soon. Thank you for- Nope, it's too stale.

I'm happy you're here, Honey. Wait for me after you're done? -Bear

"Here," Carmy hands it to him without even looking at Richie.

"Keep up the good work, Chefs," Richie yells out to the room before disappearing to the front of the house. The door swinging shut behind him.

"Yes, Chef!"

Something isn't working in the kitchen. They're too backed up, and no matter how hard they try, they're always a tad too slow. Through Sydney surrounding the wheel to Richie, Carmy steals glances out the kitchen window. You're smiling at whatever your brother says, your lips sipping the wine he chose. Carmy can get through this night because, in the end, you'll be waiting for him.

"There he is," you sing as you spot Carmy walking out of the kitchen. The chef's whites back in his locker as he sports his white t-shirt, jeans, and jacket.

Fak, who kept you company while Carmy finished up, speaks up next, "My brother, I'm gonna grab a sandwich and head home. Honey, it was a pleasure meeting you."

"You too, Neil!"

"Thanks for everything," Carmy tells him, giving him a hug and a pat like dudes do.

Carmy turns and grabs your hand to pull you close and kiss your cheek. "What did you think?"

"It was the most delicious thing I've ever tasted," you tell him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

There's a reason Carmy has had so many accolades despite his young age. He has a gift in the kitchen. The moment his food touched your taste buds, your life changed. He and Sydney outdid themselves, and the way everything flowed showed how much work they put into the restaurant.

"You're exaggerating," Carmy modestly says, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"I'm really not," you shake your head, pursing your lips. Carmy can't resist placing a small peck on your red-painted lips.

"What about your famous pizza?"

"No, it might be the best pizza in Chicago, but whatever I ate today topped it," you smile at him, scrunching your nose. "Consider your chef's license reinstated,"

"Thanks," Carmy laughs breathily, "Do you mind if we walk? I feel some of the rush still."

"Lead the way, Mr. Berzatto."

Carmy grabs your hand, leading you to the streets of Chicago. It's silent momentarily as the wind cools Carmy's heated face. He places his hand along with yours into his pocket.

"Did your brother like it?" He asks, breaking the ice.

"Oh yeah. I'm officially like the best sister ever," you respond, squeezing his hand.

You had accidentally forgotten that your brother had passed the Bar exam. So, you didn't have time to get him anything in celebration. You figured dinner at a lovely new restaurant would help while you got him a proper present.

"How did you feel throughout, though? It looked intense." You often found yourself looking through the small glass window into the kitchen. They were always on the move, looking for the next thing to do.

"It didn't just look like it. I'm used to it, though," Carmy admits with a sniff. Everyone's best and worst habits shone through for those couple of hours. It's an environment he's all too familiar with, in and out of the kitchen.

"That rough," you grimace.

"It's fine. We have a lot to work on, but it's a start, and it wasn't entirely terrible," Carmy says, thinking back on tonight. Before coming out to meet you, he wrote down a couple of things to go through with Sugar and Sydney.

"Good, 'cause I hope The Bear sticks around the block," you say, bumping your shoulder with his.

You invite Carmy into your house when you arrive. He takes up your offer, holding your hand to help you balance as you take your heels off. It reminds Carmy he forgot to mention how beautiful you looked today.

He follows you to the kitchen, watching your hips sway and your dress skirt swishing. Padding to the wine fridge, you pick out a bottle of red to celebrate.

Carmy indulges in looking at your legs as you stretch up to reach for the glasses of wine up in your cabinets. His blue eyes darken as your dress hikes up, exposing your pretty thighs.

His gaze darts back up at you when you turn around to place the glasses on the kitchen counter. You hand him the wine opener so he can do the honors because you suck at taking the cork out. It's why you mainly stick to cheaper wines with twist-off caps.

"Here is to The Bear and its amazing owner," you say, lifting your glass in front of you.

"Here's to not fuckin' it up entirely," Carmy follows, making you giggle. Your wine glasses clink, and you take a drink.

Placing the glass back down, Carmy pins you against the counter, his strong hands resting on the edge of it. You look at him through your lashes, a hand coming up to his chest to feel the steady thumping of his heart.

"You look beautiful. I like the dress," Carmy murmurs. It's better late than never.

The dress you wear is a pretty shade of light blue. Simple yet dressy. The neckline gives him a good view of your cleavage and has long sleeves to compensate for the shorter length. They currently cover the goosebumps lining your skin.

"Yeah? I picked it out thinking you might," you reveal, biting your lip. The shade reminded you of his eyes.

"You were right," he whispers, cupping your jaw. As pretty as the dress is, he's sure it'll look so much better on the floor.

Carmy closes his eyes as he leans down to kiss you. He's always struggled with words, so he hopes it's enough for you to catch what he's trying to say.

You smile into the kiss, blindly leaving your glass to the side to be able to touch him. Your palm presses against his chest and taut abdomen. He hides a nice amount of muscle under his t-shirts, a pleasant surprise.

Carmy easily lifts you up to sit down on the kitchen island. He steps between your legs, never breaking the heated kiss. The hands on your waist trail down to your thighs and under your dress. Carmy's tattooed hands squeeze your ass and thighs, earning him a moan from you.

This is the farthest you've ever gotten, and you're more than ready to have all of him. Carmy knows this, which leads to his thoughts getting out of control.

He has to make a decision now. Does he allow himself to be with you, or does he remain by himself like always? Richie's, Sugar's, Cicero's, and Sydney's voices all shout at him different things. Some are in favor, and others are in opposition. 'Uh oh.'

He can't lead you on and sleep with you if he will back out tomorrow. The voices become deafening in an instant, ripping him away from your embrace. His emotions bubbled over and spilled all over the place.

"Wait, stop, I just-" Carmy breathes heavily, taking a couple of steps back from you. Carmy's hand comes up to his forehead as he attempts to organize his thoughts.

"What's wrong?" You ask worriedly. Did you do something wrong?

Carmen's thoughts spill out his mouth without making much sense as he paces in your kitchen. "I can't stop thinking about it and owe it to my team..."

"Carm?" You slide off the kitchen counter, approaching him slowly.

"-keeps saying it's a distraction," he rambles mostly to himself. His heart is pounding painfully in his chest. If he didn't know any better, he'd think he was having a heart attack.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's a distraction?" Softly, you grab onto his arms, stopping him in his tracks, trying to find his lost gaze.

"You. Whatever this is," Carmy breathes, finally meeting your eyes, which he instantly regrets as your eyes turn sad.

The watering of your eyes is unintentional, as is the knot forming in your throat. "You think I'm distracting you?" You question barely above a whisper.

His response is instant, "Fuck, no, the opposite. W-When I'm with you or-or think about you, things get clearer, and it's-it's when I feel the most focused." Carmy holds your shoulders, comforting you because he never meant to hurt you. He can't stand the sad look in your eyes.

Slowly, you begin to piece together his rambling and conclude that other people have been telling him you're a distraction. You wonder if they don't want him to be happy. The Bear is the center of Carmy's life, and before that, it was the restaurant in New York. He deserves more than this crazy job.

"Then fuck what others tell you, Carmen. You deserve to have a life outside The Bear." Maybe you're selfish because you don't want to lose him, but you hope he believes your words.

"I-I don't. I don't deserve all your attention or your affection. I'm nothing special. I don't deserve you." Carmy says, shaking his head with furrowed brows.

Weeks ago, he had no source of enjoyment. He said it himself at the support group. Now, he has you, yet he can't bear the thought of you wanting to be with him. He feels like he's tricking you into a bad deal. That's what he is, though, isn't he? An overachieving fuck up with tons upon tons of baggage.

Carmen Berzatto is an anxious person with too many problems in his life. He has a fucked up family. His mother is a mentally unstable alcoholic. His brother was addicted to painkillers and decided that shooting himself on a bridge was better than living this life. That's without mentioning all the trauma he has from his job and the terrible people he's worked with.

What good does he have to offer you?

"Yes, you do," you reassure him, placing your hands on his cheeks. The cool metal of your rings soothes him somewhat, grounding him. "You deserve all that and more, Carmy. You're so sweet and kind and hard-working. You've been through shit. You deserve something good in life. Maybe it's me, or maybe it's not, but don't close yourself off."

You're begging at this point. Whatever this relationship is, it's just starting. He's not giving himself a chance. You like Carmy so damn much. He's funny without knowing it and thoughtful, too. There are so many qualities he doesn't realize he has.

His eyes watch you as tears line them. He's silently pleading for you to convince him. To get him out of his own head and forget the expectations others have on him.

"I'm not going to force you into anything, Carm. It's your call, but I've enjoyed our last couple of months together. I know we don't know each other completely, but I want to know everything about you. I have feelings for you, so whatever you decide, I'll support it."

Being honest is all you can do at this point. You pour your heart out and hope Carmy chooses you.

You and Carmy stand in the middle of your kitchen. Face to face, reaching out towards each other. It's clear as day that you want the same thing. It's only a matter of taking the right steps now.

"I can't let you go," Carmy responds, grabbing the hand on his cheek. His thumb brushes over the back of it.

"Then don't."

Carmy's decision is made. Without another thought, he smashes his lips against yours. He grabs the back of your neck, tilting your head to meet his heated kiss.

It's more intense now that the cards are on the table. Nothing to hold him back.

Tongues clash together as your bodies seek each other out. The temperature rises when Carmy lifts you up to wrap your legs around his hips. His hands are on the back of your thighs, holding tight onto you.

"Bedroom?" He asks, breaking the kiss, a trail of saliva between the two of you.

"Down the hallway," you breathe heavily, kissing down his neck.

Carmy makes it to the bedroom, opening the door with a bang. He spots your bed, placing you in the middle with him holding himself up on top of you.

He watches as your back meets the bed and your fair fans around you like a halo. The curvature of your breasts accentuated even more from the position.

Carmy hikes your leg further up his hips as he dips down to kiss a wet trail down to the neckline of your dress. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on the rounded flesh, nipping at the skin playfully when you arch your back to push more into him.

"Carmy," you breathe, cupping his jaw to pull him back to your lips. Grinding your hips, you manage to graze against his bulge.

"Shit," Carmy shakily curses, thrusting his hips to meet your touch once more.

Curiously, your hands wander across his body. Carmy's moans in your ear make your panties wetter than they already are.

You grasp the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off. You're desperate to have him, your cunt aches for him. Your nails scratch down his firm stomach when he bites into your earlobe, softly calling your name.

"Unzip me," you pant, pushing him away and pulling your hair off to the side.

Carmy grabs the small zipper, pushing it down and exposing your pretty skin. As he slides the fabric off of you, he kisses your shoulders and back, taking note of the goosebumps on your skin.

His mind is in the present, and nothing can take it away from him. It's like a switch he managed to turn off in his brain. No more family drama, no more The Bear. It's just you...and him. Honey and Bear.

You stretch your neck to the side, giving Carmy more space to pepper kisses across the delicate skin. The dress pooling at your feet exposes your chest, and Carmy's hands come up from behind you. His fingers shyly brush up your stomach, tickling you, until they find your breasts.

He draws a moan from you as he squeezes them in his palms, pushing you back to meet his chest; turning your head to the side, you find his lips.

The kiss breaks when he slides one of his hands into your underwear, dipping his finger to feel your wetness. Your arm reaches back to dig your fist in his curls.

"You're soaked, Honey," he moans, finding your clit to tease it.

"Been waiting for so long, Carmy," you whine as your hips stutter along with the flicks of his wrist.

"I'm sorry. I'm here now," he purrs into your ear.

Carmy can hear the distinct 'shlick, shlick, shlick' of his fingers against your clit. It spurs him on as he slips a finger into you. He can't wait to have his cock inside of you, snug and warm.

"Oh my god, Carmen," you gasp when he prods another finger into your entrance. Hanging onto his arm across your chest, you roll your hips against his fingers.

"I got you," he says, digging his fingers deeper into you and curling them.

Your knees buckle as the tips of his fingers curl and hit your g spot repeatedly. If it weren't for him, you'd be on the floor. With your tummy tensing under the weight of the pleasure, you stutter out, "I'm gonna cum."

Carmy's hand is wet from your juices as he ups the ante. Just as your walls begin to squeeze around his fingers, he pulls them out to circle around your clit.

"Oh, f-fuck!" You squeal, throwing your head back onto his shoulder.

The way your clit softly twitches under the pads of his fingers fucks with Carmy. It makes his cock throb and leak into his jeans.

Untangling from his embrace, you place a breathless kiss on Carmy's lips. His slick digits dig into your hips as he prolongs it.

Blindly, you find the edge of his jeans and unbutton them. If Carmy notices, he doesn't say anything. You want to give him one more reason to stay with you.

He moans into your mouth when you grasp his length through his boxers. He's rock hard as he desperately ruts against your hand.

With your hold still on him, you push him to sit on the bed. Carmy looks up at you lustfully. You plant a single short kiss on his lips before kneeling on the floor between his legs. You leave love bites down his chest while looking up at him through your lashes.

Carmy brushes away any hair that falls on your face, his blue eyes focused solely on you. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you pull them down along with his underwear.

His length pops up from its confines, slapping against his tummy. Its tip is a pretty pink shade, with a thick length and a slight curve to it. You salivate instantly at the sight of it.

Carmy's nervous under you. It's been a long since he's been with someone else, and he's never been the most confident.

"Relax," you say teasingly, kissing around his lower tummy to calm him.

Finally, your hand wraps around his cock, lightly pumping it. Leaving sloppy kisses down his happy trail, you feel Carmy's stomach taut in anticipation.

It's been so fuckin' long.

With your eyes staring into his hungry ones, you kiss the pink head that glistens with pre, teasingly brushing it against your lips. Keeping eye contact, you lick his length from base to tip. You alternate between kissing and licking for a minute, enjoying watching Carmy squirm.

"Fuck, Honey," Carmy throws his head back at your torturous pace.

"Look at me," you sweetly say.

Taking mercy on him, you part your lips to take his length into your warm, wet mouth, bobbing your head to a steady rhythm. Prying one of Carmy's hands from the bedsheets, you place it in your hair, encouraging him to use you.

"Good girl," he moans, fisting your hair to force you to take more of his cock. You let your hands rest on his thighs, feeling the strong muscles underneath.

Carmen observes you with hooded eyes as you hollow your cheeks, sucking him expertly. He's obsessed with how your lips leave behind a tinge of red lipstick on his skin.

"Shit-Fuck me," he yells into the room when you swallow around him.

You want him to cum, but Carmy has other plans. He doesn't think he'll last long if you make him cum now, so after the stunt you pulled, he pulls you off his sensitive cock.

The sight in front of him is erotic as a string of saliva connects you to his cock. The tears lining your eyes and blushed nose add to that pretty picture.

"c'me 'ere," he says, helping you up and kissing you as he leads you back to the bed. He tugs off your wet panties, throwing them somewhere in the room.

You lay back on your pillows with Carmy slotted between your legs. It's torture having him so close and yet so far. Now that you've gotten a taste of his cock you need more.

Carmy touches the inside of your thighs, inching his way closer to your cunt. He instantly notices how fuckin' wet you are. You're dripping even more than before.

"Sucking me off, got you this wet, princess?" He asks, leaning his forehead against yours.

"Mhm, Carmy, wish you would've cum in my mouth," you admit, tilting your head up to brush your lips against his.

"You have such a dirty fuckin' mouth," he chuckles darkly.

Where did this side of you come from? You're usually so sweet and delicate. He should've known you would be a freak in bed. To think he almost let this all go.

"Carmen, please."

"Please, what?" Carmen teases, lining his cock against your opening, wetting his cock.

"Fuck me," you moan, kissing his jaw.

"'m gonna fuck you good, princess," he promises, with a shaky nod before he remembers, "Fuck! I-I don't have a condom with me."

"I should have some in my drawer," you mention breathlessly.

Carmy opens the condom in record time but is surprised when you take it from his hands and roll it down his shaft yourself. You just want an excuse to keep touching him.

With your leg hiked up, he aligns himself and slowly pushes in. You both gasp at the sensation. Carmy, for one, is trying to not bust a nut so soon because you're so tight and warm.

Meanwhile, you hold onto Carmy's back as he stretches you out. It's been so long, and your toys aren't nearly as thick as him. You breathily moan in his ear, which he takes as a good sign as he begins thrusting more forcefully and deeper.

Carmy hopes this isn't a dream, and if it is, he hopes he doesn't wake up anytime soon. He has one hand holding onto your thigh and the other holding himself up. His gold chain dangles above you as he picks his head up from its spot on your shoulder. You take the chance to tug on it, returning his attention to your lips.

"You feel so fuckin' good, princess," Carmy groans, squeezing your thigh.

"I love your cock, Carmy," you whine, feeling the drag of his cock on your walls. The pleasure is all-consuming, leaving a fuzzy feeling in your brain.

"You like when I fuck you like this?"

"Yes, yes, yes, keep going."

His hips snap hard against yours, hitting that spot each and every time. His pelvis hitting your clit. He squeezes your thigh, hips, and sides before his hand squeezes your tits, too, playing with your nipples.

Suddenly, he straightens up, pulling you down the bed to have you flushed against his pelvis. He's a sight for sore eyes that forces you to keep your eyes open.

His thrusts are more forceful like this, where he digs his fingers into the fat of your hips to pull you towards him with each snap. It makes your tits bounce, hypnotizing him.

Through your lustful gaze, he looks like a marble statue. His chest glimmers under the lowlights of your room as sweat clings to him, his chain jumping against the blushed skin of his chest, and his fucking hair falling over his pretty eyes. The set of his jaw could've been sculpted by Michaelangelo himself.

Your hands indulgently reach down to touch him in any way you can. You can only reach his stomach, where a nice pair of abs appear due to the effort.

"You like what you see?" Carmy teases. He's entirely lost on you because otherwise, he wouldn't be as cocky to say that.

"You're so handsome," you pitifully say. Your brain not computing as it should, but how can it when it's being fucked out of you?

Carmy doesn't know how to respond. It's not often he's called handsome or looked at as lustfully as you're looking at him. Thankfully, he doesn't need to say much as your eyes roll back and you squeeze your walls around him.

"Carmy, I'm so close," you pant, trying to find any part of him to hold. He offers you his hand, lacing your fingers together.

"Just a little longer, princess," Carmy groans as you clench around him. "Fuck, don't do that to me."

He glances down at the spot where you and him meet to see a ring of white on the base of his cock. He's enthralled with the way you stretch to accommodate him and the way your pink walls drag along his length when he pulls out. Fuckin' beautiful.

Putting all his knowledge to use, he thumbs your clit, making you jolt. He needs you to cum now, or he won't make it. His balls feel like they're about to burst.

"Carmy," you cry out, tightening the hold on his hand.

You teeter on the edge for only a second until you cum, waves of pleasure washing over you. Carmy curses from above you as your tightening walls choke his cock, making him cum too. He stutters his hips a couple more times, riding out his orgasm.

He leans back down again, catching your lips in a small kiss. His body slowly relaxes against yours as his head rests on your neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and perfume.

"That was good," you breathe heavily, rubbing your hands up and down your back. You're just starting to think clearly.

"Fuckin' amazing," he adds.

There's a beat of silence before you both burst out laughing.

A bubble encases you, and it can't be popped as long as you stay in your bedroom. Carmy doesn't want to leave; it's late already, and in a couple of hours, he has to get up and go to The Bear to repeat the process.

For once, he forgets about that and focuses solely on you. He has a couple of hours to spare. Sleep is overrated.

You face each other on the bed, talking in hushed whispers. Your fingers trace the '773' tattoo on his bicep like you've always wanted to do. It tickles Carmy, so he grabs your hand and kisses your palm.

"Now that I'm thinking about it. I didn't see your tattoo," he whispers to prevent disturbing the peace.

Your face warms at his words. You had forgotten about that. He's seen a lot of you in the past couple of hours. What's a bit more of skin?

"You missed my big bad tattoo?" you joke, poking his nose.

"Show me," he says with a lopsided smile.

You make it dramatic, rolling your eyes and giving him a big sigh. Sitting up on the bed, you peel the bed sheets from your body. Carmy props himself up on his elbow in anticipation.

Right there, on your left side and under the curve of your breast is a small outline of Winnie the Pooh's face. Carmy touches it, biting his lip to hold back a laugh. Unsurprisingly, it's precisely what he expected from you.

A few chuckles pass his lips as he pulls you back into his arms.

"Don't laugh. It made sense at the time," you whine, covering yourself back up.

Carmy pulls you to his chest, kissing your temple, "I'm sure it does. Pooh Bear loves his Honey," Just like he does.

"Exactly! Someone gets it!"

And he does because Carmy, aka The Bear, is quickly falling for his Honey.

A couple of days later, Carmy is back at your house helping you prepare the famous pizza you promised him. He lets you take the lead on everything, preferring to follow your instructions rather than let his mind run wild. It's not like you'll let him do most of the work anyway; it's your recipe, and you're protective over it.

"Can you chop up the veggies?" You ask him as you lay down the dough in a pan.

"Yes, Chef," he nods, kissing your cheek as he digs through your kitchen drawers for a knife.

"Oh, I like the sound of that," you muse, shaking your shoulders as you knead the dough to spread it.

"Don't let it get to your head, Hun," Carmy smiles, slicing the vegetables expertly.

Cooking with Carmy is surprisingly easier than you thought. He's not controlling over the kitchen or judgy. He lets you do your thing in peace, following your orders no matter how strange they might be. This is your kitchen, not his.

As you spread the sauce and cheese over one of the doughs, Carmy gets a call. He wipes his hands with a rag and picks it up. You only hear his side of the conversation.

"No, I'm off tonight. I'm with my girl. Call Sugar. She should be able to help you with that. Great. Thanks."

Carmy had promised himself that he would try to balance it all better. He has his team to help each other out. The Bear is a priority, but so are you because you help him keep whatever sanity he has left.

Carmy hangs up, and when he returns to you, he notices the grin on your lips as you put the toppings he chopped on the pizza.

"What's with the smile?" Carmy stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he props his head on your shoulder. Your hair tickles his nose, smelling the notes of coconut of your shampoo he digs his head farther into it.

"I'm your girl?" You ask, the smile still present on your face. He'd missed your initial reaction when you heard him call you 'my girl.' You almost dropped the container of pepperoni that was in your hands. It's a shock cause he never asked you to be his girl.

Carmy pauses and tenses up against you. "Uh, yes? Hold up. Turn around," he orders, as he places his hand on your hips to turn your body around.

"Yes, chef," you respond cheekily, your arms around his neck, careful not to touch his sweater with your messy hands.

"Aren't you my girl?" He frowns, rubbing a thumb over your hips.

"I could be, but I don't remember you asking," you pretend to think.

Carmy never directly asked you to be his girlfriend, and you never asked him to be your boyfriend. You might as well be a couple since you've been dating long enough. You decide to seize the opportunity now to get it out of him. Having a proper anniversary day would be nice because you hope this lasts.

"I see, my mistake," Carmy nods, catching your vibe, "Honey…"

"Yes, Carmy?" You blink innocently at him.

"Would you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?" He finally asks.

You could joke around but decided against it cause the moment is perfect, "I'd love to," you nod, giving him a small kiss.

When the pizza is cooked, you bring it over to the dining table. Serving Carmy a pretty slice. Excitedly, you wait for him to bite into it and taste it.

"What do you think?" You ask expectantly.

"You were right. Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy agrees with an unbelievable laugh. He's got a lot to learn from you. It's the truth, or maybe he's blinded by his feelings. Only time will tell where you and Carmy will end up.

The End?

thank you guys for pulling through and reading! i know it's a slow burn but i hope you liked it! i certainly enjoyed writing it even though it took me like 4 months.

if you liked it, i would appreciate you liking it, commenting or reblogging. if you have some feedback feel free to send it my way too. i wanna get better at this whole writing thing!

thank you! bye xx

[angelisverba]

praise

in which y/n notices something isn't quite right with her professor, and harry loves chasing this little bunny

word count: 5.5k

pairing: vamp!h and y/n (but really it's more like professor!h with a side of vampire)

warnings: this fic contains graphic depictions of sex and blood.

author's note: happy late halloween!

When y/n was little, her mother always told her to stay inside on Halloween.

She never got to go trick-o-treating like the other kids because of this, not until she was old enough to pay for her own costume, but by that time it was too late because trick-o-treating turned into bar hopping and candy turned into drinks. She took part in these activities for as long as it took for her to figure out that she didn't like alcohol or big crowds or dressing up.

Also by that time, many of the holidays took place around the time that she was stressing about papers and exams and midterms and other deadlines a college students faces around the end of the semester. She was a dedicated, busy little bee with few friends that knew her enough to know that when she's focused, theres no getting her to come out for anything, so they didn't even extend invites.

Which is why she finds herself inside, at the library, on Halloween night. She has a little ear worm of Linus writing his letter to the great pumpkin running around in her brain, but that's as far as her spooky spirit goes. The rest of it is consumed in her paper about sublime notions of nature in the latest gothic novel assigned by her literature professor, Mr. Styles.

Had it been any other teacher, she wouldn't have lingered so much on grammar, word choice, or reading her paper over and over again so that her ideas were clear and concise, but... but there was something about him. She can't really but her finger on it, but a big part of it is fear. Intimidation. He's so... commanding in the way that he carries himself. Almost menancing, his figure carrying the threat of punishment.

He walked into the lecture hall everyday dressed like a model from a vintage academia magazine. Tweed bottoms. Button up shirts. Loafers. Sleek black shoes. A pristine silver watch on his wrist. A golden chain that twinkled on his neck and disappeared into the collars of his shirts like a shooting star. Slicked back chocolate brown hair from which a single curl sometimes escaped and swayed on his forehead like the hooked tail of a monkey. Tailored pants that accentuated the litheness of his hips perfectly so, making her wonder if he had them altered to fit him exactly. A badge on a simple, black attachment pinned on his hip spelled his name underneath a coyly smirking ID picture of his face; Harry Styles. 

So y/n had a little crush.

A silly little bundle of love-misted roses perched in her heart with a ribbon and a name tag that had her English professor’s name on it. 

She tried to tell herself that it was a school girl’s crush (it literally was), but it was hard to keep her daydreams cemented underneath the rounded realm of reality when her heart kept reading into every single little interaction she had with him, knowing that all her fantasies would only ever exist in her dreams because he was an employee. He was older than her. He would never be interested in a girl, a student, like her. His serious disposition did nothing to quell her. 

In fact, it almost egged her on. The perfectionist in her wanted to be perfect for him, so be praised by him for her hard work. She wanted so badly to be his teacher's pet that it reflected in her work ethic. Every paper she turned in was better than her last, she paid rapt attention in class, took the most intricate care in her notes. She always looked her best on the days she had his class- black ballet flats with black skirts, frilly socks, cardigans and collared blouses- ever the neat student. She's every professor's wet dream, she knows this.

Yet, the approval and validation that she craved. No, needed. The validation she needed from him was never given to her, no matter how hard she worked. The notes on her paper were always asking for more, she could do better, she could be more clear, she wasn't quite*getting it. And he always left a note that she should see him in his office hours.

But she couldn't.

Y/n was sure that she would spontaneously combust is she was in an enclosed one-on-one space with him. Which was funny because many of the female students fought for that time with him. One time she heard a few girls in her class say that they tried to call him by his first name and he told them that "it was Professor Styles or Sir to them". Just listening to it second hand was enough to have her squirming. The though it, to have his striking green eyes on only her, his gravely, accented voice directed at her. It was an intoxicating though.

She could imagine it.

He would sit on the other side of his desk in that suave way of his, ankle crossed at his knee, one hand resting on the arm of his chair while the other props his chin up as his finger taps against his sharp cheekbone. He would watch her with an unwavering, predatory gaze, like he's waiting for her to make a mistake to step in and correct her. Y/n would sit in the seat across from him, her hands under her thighs to keep from fidgeting, her lips wet with her spit from how much she'd chew on them, her eyes unfocused and struggling to keep contact with him. The silence in the room would probably be filled with her 'umm's and 'like'. She'd be so nervous, and he would see right through her, and all her hard work would be diminished to nothing.

And then she would probably cry and Professor Styles doesn't really look like the type to console his students, so y/n would just embarrass herself.

So she settles for putting her all into her work, tweaking what he's made notes on from previous papers, and hoping that it's enough, that one of these days she'll she exclamation points at the end of praise instead of at the end of 'explain this'.

With a weepy, overwhelmed sigh, y/n rubbed her fists into her eyes and ran words over and over again in her head. She was the last one in the library, the light from the lamp at her desk was the only source of illumination in her little study corner. This late into the semester the school didn't close libraries, opting to not get in the way of students and their work. It was nearing midnight, and she was getting tired, but this paper was due in two days and she wanted at least one to edit it.

A little delirious from lack of sleep and anger from how difficult this was all turning out to be, y/n blinked back tears. She was a little cold and she was hungry. But she was not going to leave until this paper was finished.

She would however close her eyes, just for a little while. Y/n put her head down on the desk, telling herself that she would only rest her eyes for a few minutes, that she was not going to fall asleep.

But like every college student that snoozes their alarm twenty million times because they're just going to rest their eyes for a few more minutes, she falls asleep.

She startles awake in the dark at the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.

When she jerks upright, Professor Styles is sitting across from her, reading her paper.

***

Harry is so fucking hungry, and he's looking for a snack. Maybe even a meal if he can get away with it.

He hasn't fed in nearly a month, and normally even two weeks is pushing it. But it was the month of October, and as the holidays neared and the parties increased, so did security and people's guard. It was extra hard to find a bite now, not the kind he liked.

Sweet, pure, and innocent. Untainted flavor.

A few days ago he managed to snag a few blood bags from the campus' blood drive center, but it wasn't enough. He craved the puncture, the warmth of a body in his arms, the fresh throb of a pulse underneath his tongue. He wanted the erotic writhing of struggle and submission against his body. Many of his kind didn't share their fondness for this part, but he loved taking care of them afterwards. Making sure they were okay, steady. Sated in the same ways he was. Being a vampire came with the ability of glamour, a bit of mind influencing, so that he was able to make the situation a little more favorable on his end.

He had decided to go for a stroll, having been caught up late in his office grading papers, when he caught a hint of something sweet and familiar in the night air.

It reminded him of one his students, y/n.

She always sat in the middle of the third row with perfect posture, listened to his lectures as if he was God. Her eyes would get mooney, and if he listened hard enough (which to him wasn't really that hard because he was a vampire, he had super human hearing) he could hear her heart beat faster in the seconds that his eyes held contact with her as he talked, delicate and quick like the wings of a hummingbird. Everything she turned in was perfect. She was smart but not pretentious in her way of writing, and something about the way she wrote reminded him about the tender inside of a wrist. Her wrist.

But Harry was mean, and he liked to tease, and he could tell that y/n was waiting. She was sitting on a precipice, hanging on to his very word, her body strung taught and stressed. She was waiting on him. He was going to make her wait until he did as he asked. He wanted one on one time with her, and until then, he wouldn't give her what she wanted.

Whether she realized it or not, she was teasing him, too. In ways that y/n probably wasn't even aware of. The way she bit her lips so they were bright with her blood right underneath the surface, the promise of her heat with every exaggerated sigh she let out as she walked out of his lecture hall. Her clothes, god they killed him.

She wore these black kitten heels once, and they drove him crazy.

Now, he knows his place as Professor, and he didn't just get this job to fuck around. He enjoyed teaching and knowing secretly that he knew first had about the things he was talking about. He loved seeing how his life was absorbed by the younger faces (not that he looked old, he would forever appear to be 23). He respected others, their will, their purpose, and only went as far as his moral compass would let him to take care of his needs.

But he was a man, and he could be brought to his knees by a pretty thing like y/n.

Harry remembers that day, how his trousers were uncomfortable and he had to spend the whole time behind his podium. How he needed to slyly inch a calculating hand to the ever-growing uncomfortable center of his groin and tug the snug fabric away from their vacuum-sealed hold on his hips. It was maddening for him, but uncomfortable for her (he thinks). She never wore them again, and he suspects they may have hurt her delicate feet if the way she kept shifting was anything to go by. 

Not that he noticed.

Harry most definitely did not notice that the tip of her toes kept tittering tenderly up and around in slow, hypnotizing circles, meant to relieve pent up tension. He most definitely did not notice that the way her frilly white socks kept sliding down the slope of her ankle with every movement. Or the tantalizing trekk of her delicate fingers against the curve of her thigh, behind her knee, and a little further where the pads of her lucky fingers dug into the soft, aching- he assumed- flesh of her calves. He didn’t fucking hold his breath and become stiller than a statue to try and to hear the sweet, breathy sighs of relief that left her parted lips. No, he did not. That would be a violation of the contract he signed upon assuming his position. It would be betraying the trust of the snarky, reluctant, port-belly head of academics that judged his ambiguous resume with reluctance.

Of course he didn’t. And he wasn’t the slightest bit disappointed that he never saw them again. 

This student of his had captured his attention this semester, almost distracting him. Her smell, from what he knows the few times he caught a whiff of it amongst all the others, was sweet, yet not overwhelmingly so. It was mellowed out and warm, and the closest thing he could compare it to from the food he had as a human, was apple pie. She was warm, sweet, honeyed, with the zest of cinnamon.

He wanted to taste her so fucking badly.

Harry doesn't know if it's because he's so hungry that he's smelling her now.

Trailing after the scent with his nose leading the way like a drooling dog, he wonders- no, he knows that he won't be able to fight the urge to taste her if it's really her he finds at the end of the line.

It gets stronger in the library, but from the looks of it, it's dark and empty. From the looks of it, but Harry knows better. He can hear better and smells better, and he knows she's in here. The swift intake of her breath rings in the silence, his ears picking up on the only human sound in the buildings. The near-silent whines that sit at the base of her throat and die before they exit through her nose.

Her hearbeat.

Calm. Steady. Alive.

It sounds like a drum, low and pounding and it thrills him.

He wants to hear it beat faster and faster, like a bunny when it's being chased. He wants to hear the even paced breaths become rapid and disorganized with heightened emotion.

He can smell her, too, the delightful aroma making his fangs itch and his loins ache. Walking further into the library, the stacks of books growing dense with sharp corners and cozy study nooks, he can trace the direct path she took to her spot- the table in the corner with the lamp still on. She has her head resting on her arms, hair haphazardly strewn across the wooden table and some papers, a pencil between her fingers still.

She probably set her head down after saying she was only gong to rest her eyes. She's probably been here for a really long time, he can hear her stomach growling. Shaking his head in disbelief, he pulls the chair back with a motion that's sure to wake her up at the same time that he pinches the paper with two fingers and begins to read.

Waking with a little gasp, y/n straightened. He could pinpoint the exact moment she became fully cognizant of what was happening because her heartbeat picked up in a way that concerned him, and she became utterly still. From the corner of his eye (Harry was reading her paper, a really good paper, and hadn't looked at her. Not even once) he could see her mouth open and close a few times, words escaping her. Y/n rolled the pencil between hands that had begin to perspire and began to chew on her bottom lip.

Internally, Harry groaned. He needed to get her to stop doing that because he was imagining things that no person is his position of power needed to be imagining and his cock was fattening against his thigh. He was hungry in more ways than one for her. A part of him wanted to mark her up like he was a dog and she was his chew toy, licking and sucking and biting on the sweetest parts of her to suckle on her blood; everywhere. The other wanted to do all of those things, and not just for her blood.

He had to get her to speak.

The paper that he held in his hands was probably the best that he was going to get from her class, or maybe all of them put together. The ideas were fresh with just the perfect amount of information from his lectured tossed in for a response to the prompt on the book they were currently discussing. But he had to keep playing his game with her, he had to see her fold like a ragdoll. He wasn't going to tell her what he truly thought about it, how it was so good, how she was such a good student, how she made him so proud. How she was a good girl.

Instead he put the paper down in front of her, crossed his arms and spread his legs in the chair to give his swollen dick some room and said, "you should go home. Have a meal. Go to sleep.”

At this her shoulders sagged, and it was like watching dominoes fall against each other to release different triggers, Her lips crumpled, her chin wobbled, and her eyes blinked away a sea of crystalline tears.

Y/n stared at him, a wet look that punched his gut at the same time that it made his gums salivate and his hips itch to thrust up against the desk like a thing in heat. He looked back at her, his head tipping slowly to the side to track her gaze as it dropped. Like a predatory, he observed her with the kind of stillness that promised a charge of action. That promised death in the maw of a killer.

Her mouth did that thing where it opened and closed again, sounds that came before actual words coming out of her, but never intelligible sentences. Her heart was racing, but her lungs were doing a weird thing. Like they weren't getting enough oxygen.

"Why don't you take a deep breath , hmm? And we can talk about what's going on here," he got up from his chair and stood at the side of his desk, arms crossed and feet spread shoulder width apart, formidable. If she looked closely enough, she would be able to see a thick bulge at his crotch.

But she didn't have a reason to look. He wasn't adjusting himself. He didn't even look like it bothered him.

In fact, he looked almost... mad.

Y/n looked at him straight in the eyes, and her's went doe-like, everything in her stilling like the fawn-like creature in the way of an oncoming vehicle.

Everything, including her breathing.

He wasn't going to have her passed out before all the fun began. Needing to get a grip on her, he took a few heavy steps foward, and pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger, the other hand tucking into his pocket to actually adjust himself this time because it was starting to get uncomfortable.

Tilting her face up and closer to him, he bent forward so that their noses were barely touching. Her warm breath huffed against his nose, and he had to fight the urge to roll his eyes into the back of his head.

"Breathe, y/n. You can do it," peering down at her with his jack slightly slack and his eyes at half mast, he imitated inhaling deeply, and she mimicked his motions. Her lungs expanded, and her heart slowed slightly. "That's it, darling. Again."

She gulped and her hands squeezed the fabric of the plaid tennis skirt she was wearing, bringing the hem up slightly so the thinner skin on the inside of her thighs gleamed at Harry.

Then he smelled it, and this time he didn't fight the shiver that ran through him. She was wetHis eyes closed, and a groan rolled deep in his chest. His body tensed and relaxed at the same time, like a transformation.

And when he opened his eyes, he was a different version of himself.

One that didn't give a fuck that he was a professor and she was his student.

This version only had one goal in mind: to consume her in every way he could until y/n went limp in his arms.

"Now what's the matter, little bunny?"

***

Y/n didn't know what was happening, only that something had... changed.

She might have been a quivering mess for him, but she felt the shift in him. The edge to him. The gleam in his eye. She had seen his body shiver at the same time she felt her pussy clench at his words. That's it, darling. Again. Little bunny.

He was encouraging her, not far off from what she wanted to hear from him. It stroked her muddled brain and made her feel fuzzy all over. Some of what he was saying was very inappropriate. But she could care less.

“W-what?” she mumbled, confused. She blinked so that a few tears ran down her face, and she couldn't even feel embarrassed about it.

“Y’heard me loud and clear, darling. Don’t make me repeat myself," her professor tutted.

"i'm sorry, sir. It's just that... I need to work on my paper." And she mumbled something afterwards. Low enough that he wouldn't have been able hear if he was a human. But he wasn't. That didn't mean he couldn't play with her.

"Speak up, y/n. Good girls don't mumble." His tongue was like a lashing, a reprimand, and she felt the scolding everywhere.

"It needs to be better for you, sir." Gulping, she rubbed her thighs together and shuffled in her seat. Y/n was finally one-on-one with him, and she thought she knew what it would feel like.

She was wrong.

Everything was sensitive. Hot. Cold. She was twitchy and there was this squirrley, jumpy feeling inside her. She wanted to run away like a little mouse, but she also wanted to be warmed in his hands. By his words. She wanted to hear the praise come from him so that she could stop feeling so desperate.

Y/n got like this sometimes. Whiny. Insatiable. But no one ever knew how to handle her, when to realize that she was finally full. So she was always... hungry. Like something inside her needed to be stuffed. Abused a little, maybe. She wanted to be handled and then petted. Fucked and kissed and then held. She wanted to be good.

And being like this with him, in a position that made it seem like that was possible, y/n thrummed.

Humming in realization, he stroked his knuckles down the side of her face in a caress, "and what makes you think it isn't already good?"

She leaned into his touch without realizing it, nuzzling into his hand. All she had to do now was purr. Y/n shut her eyes before speaking, "Y-you... you never-"

"Open your eyes and look at me when you're speaking, bunny." Again, the stern, scolding tone. This time it made her flinch and whimper. Her hips rocked in the chair, and he tracked the movement like a leopard in the trees ready to pounce. Y/n knew that he saw, and her face bloomed with heat.

In a breathy, chocked string of words, "you never leave nice notes on my papers, sir. All the others do, but there never any on mine and I just thought... that I n-needed to work harder to be b-better."

She shuffled again in her seat, and her professor's eyes pinched. His had trailed down to her throat, and he squeezed to hold her still.

“Stop squirming, y/n. You want to be better? Stop fucking squirming," and he released her with a small pulse at the base of her neck. He could feel his teeth bulging under his upper lip, the thrum of her life under his fingers enticing him further. Every bit of reason was escaping him. He was going to lose control. Decades of practice, of edging on months of hunger, were nothing to her allure.

He stepped back at the same time that he realized they weren't close enough.

"Stand up," he told her. He watched as she pushed the chair back and stood on wobbly knees, her gaze still searching for recognition that he had heard what she had said, that he had read between the lines and realized what she needed. "Sit on the edge of the table, facing me so we can speak properly."

When she was seated and her hands began to fiddle in her lap, he stepped close enough that her knees were almost touching his hips. And she couldn't miss it this time. The thick length of him, hard against his hip.

"S-sir?" she prompted meekly.

"You want me to leave nice notes on your papers, y/n?" He asked, settling his hands on either side of her and haunching over her so they were nose-to-nose. She could smell him, strong masculine scents of vintage leather and tobacco and bergamot.

Nodding eagerly like a dog, "mhm. Yes, sir."

"Then why didn't you come see me like I asked on every single one of those papers? You didn't listen to me, so why should I reward you?" He mouthed the words against her skin, trailing them down her jaw to her throat where he teased the skin with the tip of his nose.

The area around her neck felt scorching hot, his lips trailing searingly against her. She couldn't hide how desperate she was anymore. She arched, her body was taught, fighting the urge to wriggle because she couldn't decide if she wanted to get away from him or have more of him, and she needed to be good. He had told her to stop squirming.

"I'm sorry, Professor."

Y/n closed her eyes and tentatively braced herself against him. Trembling hands settled on his arms, thick with deceptive muscle. She could feel the strength hiding beneath the surface, tense like a snake preparing to strike. A strong hand settled at her waist, clamping like iron, and another on cupped her jaw tenderly. It was a dichotomy of treatment. Rough and tender at the same time.

"You were a bad girl, y/n."

Then she felt it, a sharp sting where her throat met her shoulder, where Harry was biting her, and licking her, and suckling at her all at the same time. A mixture of a squeal and a moan jumped out of her, and she dug her fingers into his arms, frozen. Whatever he was doing to her hurt. But it hurt in a good way. A way that made her ache with that need to be filled.

She cried out, "I'm sorry, sir." A wet apology that bared how anguished she was.

His hot tongue flattened against her, and she she vibrated in the place where he left his heavy pant, "are you going to be good for me, bunny?"

"Yes, sir. I wanna be good, please," her head was bobbing in that earnest way again, but with his head in the crook of her neck he could only feel the movement against his hair.

He suckled a little more at bite that was already beginning to close, kissing it tenderly, "gonna be my good little bunny?"

Y/n was huffing, not even bothering to hide that she was horny, “please, p-please- I need-”

“Tell me exactly what you need. C'mon, you can do it,” he coaxed her. The hand at her hip molded the flesh there, pulling her closer to him so she was sitting just at the edge, and her knees were pressed into his dick with the lightest pressure. He bucked against her, a slow roll of his groin against her delicate bare knee.

“I need to cum, sir. I need-” 

“Don’t-” he pinched her hip roughing, his thick eyebrows furowing in disapproval, “forget your manners, little bunny. Rude darlings don’t get to cum.”

"Please let me cum, Professor," she repeated, eyes glossy but no longer with tears. This was something else. Something needy. Y/n could feel her slick juices seeping through her panties and making the insides of her thighs sticker. The triangle of cloth was sticking to her, and the tight feeling of it against her clit made her want to scream. It was just barely pushing, a teasing sensation that was driving her crazy.

She wanted him to touch her. To rub her swollen clit until she drenched hand in her cum, and then to- to-

"I'm not sure I should, y/n. You didn't listen to me. Didn't come to my office. Instead I had to come find you here. What about me, hmm? What if I need something from you?" Harry leaned back, letting his hands run down so they rested on her knees and his fingers could play with the hem of her skirt.

"Whatever you need, sir. Please." Y/n was beginning to sound a little broken. Her hips struggled to stay planted on the desk and her knuckled turned white from how hard she gripped the edge of the wood. She would much rather touch him, but he was too far away and she didn't want to upset him. She stared at him, silently pleading for his hands to creep up and shove into her panties, to play with her hole.

"Right now I need to eat you, little bunny. Are you going to let me?" He tilted his head at her again, calculating. Waiting, observing.

"Yes!" Y/n shrieked, her thighs trembling.

"Spead these pretty thighs, darling. Let me have a taste," he crooned down at her as she opened up, her skirting riding so he could see her panties, how wet they were, nearly transparent with her arousal. With a deft finger, he pulled the gusset of her panties to the side and dropped to his knees.

Y/n whined at the look on his face. Mouth parted, eyes half-lidded and downturned. He looked hungry. Desperate.

Without warning he leaned forward and covered her with his mouth, his tongue licking her and then dipping into her pussy to collect what had pooled at her opening, his teeth lighting tapping against her clit. He thrusted his tongue into her once, twice, three times, and that was all it took. A gush of wetness coated his tongue, and her tremors pulsed against his lips.

He leaned back and slapped her cunt with an angry growl, and then shoved two fingers into her, fucking her roughly so his fingers got wet with her, "seriously, y/n? Did I give you permission to cum?"

"N-no, sir," as she sat hunched over his kneeling form still twitching, Harry shoved his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean of her, and then stood up, not even bothering to lay her panties right before yanking her to stand.

"Get up. We're going to walk to my rooms. Your'e doing to do so quietly, and when we get there, you're going to take your punishment like a good girl, do you understand me?" With a single finger pointed at her, y/n understand she was in for it. Her hands flew to pick up her things, showing her papers into her bag and looping it on her shoulder so she was ready to go.

"I understand, Professor"

He took the bag off her shoulder and laid a hand on her lower back, keeping her at his side as he led her out of the library and into the night, "that's better. Come this way. The night is still young, bunny, and we're both in for a treat."

*****

happy halloweenie!! hoped u liked this heehee. missed mr. vamp. lmk ur thoughts!!!

[shuadotcom]

In Case You Didn’t Know (M)

Pairing: Lee Chan x Fem!Reader

Summary: Chan has always been just one of your step-brother’s best friends. He’s also been in love with you for as long as everyone remembers, but you never paid him much mind - that is until you decide to return home after many years away and you see the man he’s become. He goes from being your little brother’s best friend to being the perfect man for you in a matter of months. Now the questions are who wants who more and will either of you do anything about your feelings?

Genres: Fluff, romance, smut, a little angst | AUs: Brother’s best friend au, roommates au, 90s au

Rating: 18+(MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED) | Words: 28.8k 🥴

Warnings: Profanity, alcohol use, will-they-won’t-they tension, a scene of reader x Lee Minhyuk (suggestive) and reader x Joshua (romantic) | Smut Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering (f.receiving), oral (f.receiving), thigh riding, praise, dirty talk, pet names (baby, babygirl, good boy), service top!Chan

Note: Written for the Now That’s 90s collab hosted by @beomcoups & @mingsolo ! I wanted to get this out for Christmas but my brain had other plans. I wanted to invoke a kind of cheesy Christmas romance movie feel to this while still keeping it 90s so that’s the vibe we’re going for! Thank you to the always amazing @wongyuseokie for the lovely banner 💙 And thank you @wooahaeproductions for beta reading my word vomit and helping me come up with this title! I love and appreciate you very much my beta/fic title queen! 💖 Also, I want to give giant sappy thank yous, hugs, and kisses to Bee, @horanghater, @onlymingyus, and @the-boy-meets-evil for all giving me pep talks and offering support throughout the process of this fic coming to exist. It’s my longest fic ever and I wanted to start over so many more times than I did so I appreciate and love y’all v much!! 🥹💞🫶🏽

“Miss? We’re here,” The taxi driver's voice wakes you, bleary eyes focusing on the apartment building outside the car window. You hadn’t been sleeping that long, but it was long enough to make you tired after your fifteen-hour flight to Seoul. That, coupled with the heat of the taxi made you cozy enough to nap, but you’re finally looking forward to being out of a moving vehicle.

As the taxi driver unloads your suitcases from the trunk, you step out into the cold September air, and triple-check the address of the apartment building, comparing the number on the building in front of you to what’s written in your planner in hand. You had verified the address with your step-brother each time the two of you spoke on the phone leading up to your flight to Korea.

When you originally told Hansol that you decided that you were ready to quit your flight attendant career and move back home, your original plan was to move back in with your parents. Going into it, you knew well enough that the move would be annoying. You loved your mom and stepdad, but your mom was a bit of a helicopter mom growing up, so you can only imagine what living under her roof again would be like.

Luckily, you and your brother have always gotten along and been close, so instead of subjecting you to moving back home, he offered to let you move in with him and his roommate. Their third roommate was planning on moving out to live with his partner, so his room would be open for the taking. 

“It’d be so much easier than putting an ad in the paper or online and interviewing strangers. You and Chan are cool right?” Hansol had asked, referring to his other roommate. Lee Chan was one of his best friends since you all were kids. Other than his very loud and very obvious crush on you, you had no problem with Chan and gladly accepted the room offer.

After you and your brother made a plan for you to move in, you contacted your oldest and closest friend who had offered you job opportunities before, citing if you ever wanted to move back to South Korea, she would do her damndest to get you something. Needless to say, she was thrilled to hear your voice when you finally called and broke the news. 

The planning to get here seemed like it took forever, but now that you’re back with your feet on Seoul soil, you were happy. The journey of closing this chapter of your life was wrapping up. Now you will have a chance at doing something different for the next part of your life.

With both full-to-the-brim suitcases in hand, you roll them behind you into the building and to the elevator. The ride to the third floor is short and the walk to your brother’s apartment is even shorter.

Just as he had instructed, you lift the welcome mat to find a key waiting for you and use it to let yourself in. 

“Han?” You call your brother’s name once inside but don’t get a response. You can hear water running down the hall and see shoes by the door so he’s obviously home. 

Your eyes sweep over the living room as you take off your coat and boots. You’re surprised at just how clean the apartment is with two men in their mid-twenties living in it. The couch is a simple black fabric three-seater with a matching chair off to the side. A brown wood coffee table sits in front of both with a few magazines and two remotes on it. Presumably, for the TV and VCR sitting across the room from the seating. 

You had half expected to see clothes and movies strewn across the floor and furniture, but there’s none of that in sight. 

After hanging your coat on the rack by the door and leaving your boots with the other pair, you leave your suitcases in the foyer and start down the hallway, heading for what you assume is the bathroom. You’re not sure which room is Hansol’s, but he mentioned that he’d be home when you got in, so you plan on poking your head into each door until you find the one that so obviously screams Chwe Hansol.

The water cuts off in the bathroom as your socked feet pad across the carpet and you make a pitstop at the bathroom, figuring you’ll just meet your brother there instead.

“Hansol?” You raise a hand to knock on the door at the same time that it swings open. It is most certainly not your brother on the other side.

Out of the bathroom, clad in only a fluffy white towel slung low on his hips, steps your brother’s roommate and best friend Lee Chan.

The same Lee Chan that you’ve known since he was in grade school when his hair was spiked, his eyes were too far apart and his head was too big for his body. The same one that’s been hopelessly in love with you since he and his family moved in next door to you and Hansol when he was ten. You of course have had to turn him down all of your life. Other than the fact that he’s a few years younger than you, he was always just your brother’s awkward but sweet best friend. You remember exactly how he looked and how he acted - like a kid.

This Lee Chan though is different. This Lee Chan very clearly works out. His arms are muscular and buff. He has defined pecs and abs that are still covered in flecks of water that are dripping down his built body. Dripping down to the light dusting of hair leading from his belly button and underneath the towel.

This Lee Chan has a strong jaw, pouty lips, and dark hair that hangs in his eyes. This Lee Chan is one of the finest men you’ve ever seen in your life - and a man he most certainly is. Your eyes unabashedly sweep over his mouth-watering frame until you meet his brown eyes and you remember instantly that this is still the Lee Chan that you should absolutely not be looking at like this. 

“Oh! Y/n!” His voice is much deeper than you remember and it sits heavy in the pit of your stomach.

“Chan! Sorry, I thought you were Hansol! He said he’d be home when I got in.” You clear your throat, trying to get a grip on yourself. 

“Oh yeah, he got called into work at the last minute. He left you a note on the fridge.” 

“Oh, okay.”

The two of you stand there for a moment, neither of you speaking.

“Well uh, let me get dressed and then I can give you a tour of the apartment and your room. I’m heading out soon to meet up with some friends, but I have time.” 

“Only if you want to! I don't want to hold you up!”

“You won’t, promise! Just give me a few minutes.”

Chan flashes you a smile that fills up his whole face and you can’t help but notice how handsome he looks.

You nod and scurry to the opposite side of the hallway, realizing that you’re still trapping him in the doorway of the bathroom. You watch him walk into what you can only assume is his room and go back into the living room, waiting for him on the couch. 

You’re thankful for him needing to take a few minutes because you need some time yourself as well. The fact that this man is the same boy that you grew up alongside is a lot to wrap your head around. 

The two of you have always gotten along. He was a sweet kid even though all he did was follow you around at any moment he could. He was funny and probably one of Hansol’s most respectful friends which you appreciate, given that his friend group was all just a bunch of rowdy boys, but you’ve never thought about him like that in all the time that you knew him. 

Over the years, there have been a few times where you’d see him in pictures your mom would email or mail to you whenever you were somewhere for a long period of time. The last time you’d come home for the holidays was three years ago and you saw Chan briefly, but from what you recall, he just looked like some guy to you when you had seen him. He did not look like this then and he certainly hadn’t been this good-looking growing up or maybe you would have entertained something with him. 

That thought is only fleeting and you have to calm your heart (and your pussy) from reacting to seeing him like this. He’s still your little brother’s best friend and he’s now your roommate, and in no way can anything happen. That is messy on so many levels. 

This sudden onslaught of want has to be because you’re just that desperate for a romantic connection with someone. Or you just need to get laid. Trying to maintain any semblance of a relationship in your line of work proved to be harder than you’d think.

For the past almost 10 years of working in the sky, you’ve had your fair share of hookups here and there. Your last was a fun, albeit messy, fling with a new pilot you were often on the same flights with named Kevin. He was handsome and funny and easy to get along with, but that didn’t end well, seeing how he got right to work hooking up with all the other flight attendants on his flights. You weren’t sure if commitment in the form of officially being boyfriend and girlfriend was what you wanted with him, but you had gone out of your way to make sure you weren’t sleeping around or seeing other people when the two of you got together. He didn’t agree with that.

Before Kevin, there was another flight attendant you were often on the same flights as. Krystal was sweet and the two of you had grown close, but she wanted to keep your relationship a secret from everyone all of the time. You had known going into it that you were still in a time where people were weird about queer people, but you also didn’t care that much. She did though, and ended up calling it off mostly due to paranoia.

Then there was the wealthy businessman, Jacob. He was an amazing guy and an even more amazing lay, but he wanted you to quit your job and move to Canada with him. This was a bit earlier in your career so you were nowhere near ready to abandon it all. He didn’t like that and would get into huge fights with you about it until you finally broke it off.

There were other tries and fails, but the moral of the story is that dating was damn near impossible for you for most of your adult life. Now that you’re planning on finally settling somewhere, you need to get back onto the dating scene and stop lusting over someone you should not be drooling over.

Chan comes out of his room then, dressed and hair styled. He’s clad in denim jeans and a white, long-sleeved shirt and somehow your eyes still sweep over him as if he’s still standing in front of you in a towel. 

He doesn’t seem to notice your ogling since he simply flashes you a wide smile and beckons you to follow him into the next room.

“So, the apartment isn’t anything too fancy. We’ve got the kitchen around the corner here; if you go through that door, that’s the balcony. There’s a couple of chairs and a drying rack out there - nothing very interesting.” He points around the simple kitchen, gesturing to the sliding door next to the fridge leading to the balcony. Chan walks in front of you again to lead you back out into the living room and you can’t help but catch a whiff of his cologne. The warm, woodsy scent makes you groan internally, and yet again, you need to check yourself.

He gestures to the living room, mentioning the entertainment center and their VHS collection. He mentions that your brother made a space for you under the sink in the bathroom for you to put some of your things. Chan points out the small closet next to the bathroom where they keep extra towels and linens and the washing machine which sits in a small nook next to that closet.

The room directly across from the bathroom belongs to Hansol, and when looking inside you see that’s obvious. Posters line the walls and CDs and books are piled on the dark wood desk in the corner. Clothes are strewn about on the floor along with a few pairs of sneakers. Since the rest of the apartment is cleaned up, clearly Hansol reserves the mess for his own space.

The second room next to Hansol’s is Chan’s. He lets you poke your head in and you’re surprised at how neat it is, much like the main area of the apartment. It’s safe to assume that Chan must be in charge of keeping things neat or at least keeping your notoriously messy brother in line. 

The last room at the end of the hall is yours. It previously belonged to Seungkwan, another one of Hansol’s best friends and their former roommate. It’s clean and neat, with a desk against the wall on one side and a made-up bed on the other. A dresser sits near the closet next to a full-length mirror. Otherwise, there’s not much else in it.

“Oh! Let me grab your bags! I should’ve offered.” Chan ignores your protest telling him not to worry about it and goes to get your suitcases anyway.

He wheels them down the hall and into your room as you grab your backpack and purse and follow behind him.

“Thanks, Chan.” He leaves your luggage by the door and smiles at you again.

“No worries, Y/n,” Chan checks his watch before announcing that he’s about to leave. “ If you need anything, Hansol should be back later this afternoon and I know he keeps the number to his work line on the fridge. I’ll probably be home in the evening, but otherwise, the apartment is yours since you live here now.” Chan waves at you as he leaves your room and you take a seat on the chair in front of the desk, listening as he collects his things and shouts another goodbye, closing, and locking the front door behind him.

The apartment is quiet when it’s just you and the temptation to sprawl out onto the bed and take a nap is so real, but instead, you force yourself up and out into the living room. You know that you should call your mom and let her know you’ve landed, but you also know she’ll talk your ear off if she answers, and you’re not really in the mood for that.

Instead, you pick up the phone on the side table and call your childhood best friend Jinah, intending to coordinate a time to meet and catch up. When she doesn’t answer you leave a message, letting her know this phone number and that you’ve made it to Seoul. There are a few other friends you need to connect with, but that can wait until later. 

For now, you decide that a hot shower is calling you. Admittedly, it takes a few minutes for you to figure out how the shower works, but when you do, you’re more than thankful for the opportunity to clear your head and finally relax. You’ve been frazzled and stressed for months leading up to quitting your career and moving back home, but now that it’s done and you’re here, you feel as though you get a little bit of breathing room.

You still have the matter of getting a new job, which Jinah will be helping you with, and eventually, you need to figure out where you’ll move after you’re back on your feet since you don’t plan on making staying with your brother permanent, but for now, the biggest hurdle of moving back across the globe has been crossed. 

After your shower, you make note of how your stomach growls, but decide to get a little unpacking done first. You already know that if you don’t at least start, your suitcases may sit in this room for days until you have the willpower to put things away. After digging your discman out of your backpack, you pop in an Aaliyah CD and get to work. 

You only get as far as folding your underwear and bras and putting those in the dresser before you’re stretching out on the bed and telling yourself you’ll only close your eyes for a moment before resuming. 

Your head feels groggy when you open your eyes, sit up, and take in your surroundings. For a moment, you forget where you are, until you remember you’re in your new room in Seoul. Sun shines through the curtains covering your window and you spot your discman on the nightstand next to your head. 

When you poke your head out of your room, you can hear soft sounds from the TV in the living room, but before you investigate, you take a detour to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

“Look who’s returned to the land of the living!” Hansol greets you when you finally make your way into the living room. He’s lounging on the couch, watching a variety show, but quickly gets up to pull you into a hug.

“Hey, Sol. What time is it?”

“Ten.”

“In the morning?!” You blink at the window with the curtains drawn open, frowning at the sunlight coming into the room. “I got in at noon yesterday!”

Hansol chuckles as you plop onto the couch next to him. “Yep. I tried to wake you when I got home yesterday, but you just grumbled at me and turned back over. I put your discman on the nightstand so you wouldn’t knock it off or anything so you’re welcome.” 

“Damn, guess I was just that tired.”

“Yeah, Chan tried to get you up too, but you didn’t budge. He brought dinner home but not even food could get you up.” Hansol laughs, thankfully not noticing the way his words fluster you. The thought of Chan seeing you sprawled out on your bed, mouth likely open as you slept is embarrassing. You quickly have to remind yourself that he is your roommate so he’s bound to see you sleeping and to get over it.

“That explains why it feels like there’s a gaping hole in the pit of my stomach.”

“Don’t worry, there’s leftover pizza in the fridge for you. And I’m sure there’s some other stuff to tide you over until later.”

“Where’s Chan now?”

“Work. Same place I’m about to go. It’s my turn for dinner tonight so I’ll bring chicken home with me.”

“Ugh, I haven’t had good fried chicken since I was in the States and we landed in Atlanta, Georgia for a while.”

“I got you. There’s a really good place not far from the apartment.”

“You’re the best, Sol.”

“I know,” your brother boasts, getting off the couch to stretch. 

“Oh! Mom called last night for you. She’s pissed you didn’t call her when you got here.”

Letting out a groan, you roll your eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure. I just didn’t have it in me to listen to her tell me a story that I’ve probably already heard ten times. I’ll call her later after I finish unpacking. I already know she’s gonna want me to come over.”

“Oh, she does. She wants us both over tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?! She didn’t even ask if that works!”

“She didn’t, but that’s because she knows I’m off work tomorrow and in her words, ‘it’s not like your sister has any obligations yet, so you can come over close to lunch.’” 

Hansol’s recounting of your mom’s words forces another eye roll out of you, but you’ll both be there and you already know it.

“I’m running to the bathroom then I’ll get ready to head out. Here, have fun.” He hands you the TV remote before disappearing into the bathroom. 

Before you can get comfortable, you pull your tired body from the couch to grab leftovers and eat before your mom calls again, inevitably nagging you about not calling her earlier.

As expected when you settle back down to call, your mom picks up the phone on the first ring and spends the next ten minutes chastising you for not calling her when you landed. You apologize multiple times, assuring her that both you and Hansol will visit her tomorrow. 

Also as expected she talks your ear off for about twenty minutes, giving you updates that you know she’ll tell you about again tomorrow. Thankfully, the mailman shows up in the middle of another story about the neighbor she’s been having a holiday decoration war with for the last three years in a row so she lets you go, saying she’s happy to see you tomorrow.

Jinah is next on your call list and she also picks up after a few rings, cheering as soon as she hears your voice, celebrating your arrival in Seoul. 

“I’m so happy we’re in the same timezone again!”

“Me too. I don’t even remember the last time we got to sit and chat.”

“I want to say it was when we were both in Spain last year. You had that day-long layover and I was out there for Fashion Week.”

“Oh, you’re right! You met that guy at that mall we went to.”

“Mmm, Ricky! He was so sweet. He still calls me sometimes. I don’t always answer, but he tries.” Jinah giggles, no doubt at some memory of her and the model she easily picked up that day.

She shifts around on the other line. “Oh damn, as much as I want to catch up with you babe, I’m about to head out for a meeting. Can we meet up tomorrow?”

“Yeah, if you can do it late in the afternoon? My mom wants me and Hansol to come over tomorrow. She already chewed my head off for not calling her when I got in.”

“Oh, Mrs. Chwe. Well, after you’re done with family time, let’s meet up! There’s a new bakery that opened in Hongdae that I haven’t tried yet. We can go together since it’s not too far from your parents’ place.”

“Please! I am craving a croissant actually.” Jinah tells you the address which you quickly write down, agreeing to meet tomorrow afternoon.

With that call over, you decide to finally bite the bullet and finish unpacking your things so you can stop thinking about it. It doesn’t take very long, seeing how your whole life was packed away in two suitcases, a backpack, and a purse. You make a mental note to do some decoration shopping for your room once you have the funds and decide to reward yourself with TV time. 

You didn’t get to catch up on many shows always being on the go, so you plan to spend your time now getting in the know and watching as many reruns as you can catch. Among other things, not being in the sky for 90% of your time will offer you the opportunity to take things much slower. You’re used to always either being on a plane, spending a few nights in hotels or short-term rental places, or rushing between all of these destinations, so you plan on doing the complete opposite with your new schedule now.

You’re stretched out on the couch, enjoying an episode of one of the new dramas everyone around you has mentioned when you fall asleep again, your eyelids unable to concentrate for long.

You don’t even realize you’ve fallen asleep until you feel yourself being slightly shaken, your eyes cracking open to see Chan staring down at you. When your eyes finally adjust you get a better look at him and note how handsome he looks in his leather jacket and beanie. Why is that even the first thing you thought?

“Hey, sleepyhead. We’re home and we have dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“Yeah, fried chicken!” You sit up, groggily rubbing your eyes and you see Hansol coming into the living room, bag in hand.

You step away to freshen up, fixing your hair and splashing some water on your face. Your brother and Chan have already set up the chicken and beer on the coffee table, taking their seats on the floor around the table as Hansol flips through TV channels.

Plopping on the floor across from Chan, Hansol pulls a can of soda out of the bag next to you, sliding it over your way. You eagerly open it, thanking him for remembering your lack of enthusiasm about drinking, and grab a piece of chicken.

“So, Y/n,” Chan starts, his full attention on you. “What brought you back to Seoul? When we talked about you moving in, Hansol told me you wanted to quit and move home, but I didn’t ask why.” 

“I was just ready for something more stable, is all. Traveling the world is fun and I didn’t hate my job - I met a ton of new and interesting people - but at some point, I just got tired of never having a true place that is mine. I mean, I’ve been doing this since I was twenty. There are only so many hotels and rental places a person can do until they get tired of the constant movement.”

“That makes sense. When I went abroad during my first year of college I got super homesick so I ended up coming back. Some of our friends said I was lame for coming back, but I don’t know, I’ve always loved Korea you know? It’s where I grew up and I feel safe and secure here. I guess I just needed time away to decide what I wanted to do.”

You nod along, understanding what he means. You didn’t know too much about Chan after you graduated and left Korea, so it was nice to learn a little more about him.

“I get that, I mean we see I’m back now after all these years. Some people just gravitate back to where they came from.”

“Yeah, I was just surprised when Hansol mentioned you coming back. I remember you being so excited after graduation because you knew what you wanted to do already and I know you just wanted to see something else other than here.” Chan smiles at you gently. The fact that he remembers how you were feeling after graduation is sweet to you.

“I was excited and I don’t regret what I chose to do. It was fun but ended up not being my end-all-be-all, which is okay. But anyway, enough about me! Hansol told me that you own a dance studio?”

“Oh, yeah. I took over my dad’s dance studio. He’s still around, but I own it. We’re talking about expanding and making it an actual dance company. People from all over Korea come to the studio, so if we can find more spaces and good instructors we can open another here and even abroad.”

“That’s amazing, Chan! You always loved to dance. I’m glad you’re able to do it full-time.” The tips of Chan’s ears redden at your compliment and he takes a long swig of his beer. 

“Thanks, Y/n.”

“Of course. I only hope that now that I’m back I can find the next thing that I want to do. My friend Jinah, I don’t know if you guys remember her, but she’s going to get me a job at the modeling agency she works at. It’ll probably just be something in the office until I find something else or figure out my next move.”

“Well, you’ve always been really smart and ambitious so I’m sure you’ll find something you’re good at now that you’re back.”

“Thank you, Chan.” You feel your face heat up at his words.

The two of you seem to share a moment where you both glance down at your food, then back up at each other every few minutes.

Hansol suddenly clears his throat as if reminding you both that he’s sitting right in between you.

“Things at my job are going well thanks for asking.”

You both snap out of whatever that moment was and recover by asking Hansol how he likes his new responsibilities, recalling the raise he got recently at work. Hansol’s worked for the same newspaper company for the past four years and you know he’s done his best to gain a good reputation at the company and that he works hard. 

You do your best to avoid the questioning look he’s passing between the two of you and instead take a big bite of the chicken wing in front of you.

“It’s good. I write movie reviews now which is cool. I get to see a bunch of movies that come out before the general public for free. It’s much better than the random articles they had me working on before this promotion.”

“I’m proud of you, Sol.” You reach over to ruffle his hair with the hand not touching your food, ignoring the groan he lets out at the action. “Maybe one day you can bring your big sister to one of these early movie showings?”

“Tch, good luck. He won’t even bring me,” Chan mumbles, taking another sip of beer.

“I’m watching movies for work, thank you very much.” Hansol rolls his eyes at the way that Chan sticks his tongue out at him playfully. “Speaking of work, Y/n, make sure you let me know soon if Jinah can’t get you into her company. We have some openings that popped up recently and I’m sure I can get you in if you need it.”

“I will. We’re gonna hang out tomorrow after we see Mom and Dad and I’ll ask her more about it then.”

The three of you spend the rest of dinner watching TV and spend more time catching up. Hansol talks about some upcoming articles he has to work on, Chan goes over more plans for expanding his father’s dance studio, and the men both question you about all the places you’ve traveled to and everything you did as a flight attendant. 

After dinner, you help clean up the trash before deciding to go to bed. Your internal clock is still readjusting to a semi-normal schedule, so you need at least a few more days before you can stay up later than 9 PM.

“Goodnight, guys,” You wave at the boys, heading down the hall into your room. You’ll take a shower in the morning - for now, you just want to rest.

Once you’re in your room, the door shut, Hansol eyes Chan as the man casts a few glimpses down the hall. He chuckles, getting his best friend’s attention.

“What?”

“Your crush is still showing, you know.”

Frowning, Chan looks between Hansol and the hallway before fixing his gaze on the TV.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Hansol scoffs at him but drops it. He knows Chan well enough to know when he’s lying through his teeth, but he won’t press it.

“Whatever you say, dude.” Hansol shrugs, announcing that he’s going to get ready for bed too. Chan stays in the living room, staring at the TV for a little while longer, but not taking in the show.

All he can think about is the fact that he is very much still into you and he’s never actually stopped. When Hansol brought up you moving in with them, he had no problem with it. You’re his best friend’s sister who needs help, of course, he wouldn’t say no. Chan figured that it would be nice to get to know you more as an adult since all of the knowledge he has of you is the person you were from middle school to high school and the things he hears Hansol or the Chwes say about what you are doing or where you are.

He knew it would be nice to catch up and spend time with you because you’ve always gotten along and you were always nice to him. He hadn’t expected his decade-old crush to creep back into his heart the moment he laid eyes on you, but it did. Chan doesn’t know what to do with these feelings so for now, he’ll squash them down the same way he has since he was ten. He’s more than used to it by now.

“My Y/n!” 

It’s the first thing out of your mom’s mouth when she opens the front door, sweeping you up into a hug. She rocks you back and forth telling you how much she missed you.

“Wow, she never hugs me like that,” Hansol murmurs behind you as he steps inside and starts taking his shoes off.

“Oh, hush Sollie! I saw you two weeks ago. I haven’t seen your sister in two years!” 

She does end up reaching over to pull Hansol into a hug of his own, once she decides you can breathe again. Your stepdad follows a minute after, hugging you for a much more normal amount of time, but also makes sure to let you know he’s personally offended that you haven’t been home in so long.

As anticipated, your mom has a full spread of food waiting on the table and ushers you and Hansol to sit and eat. Also as expected, she gives you the third degree, wanting to know about your work, your plans, and everything in between, which includes your nonexistent love life. You appease her and keep it short and simple: you’re hearing from Jinah soon about a position, you plan on doing that for at least the next year or two to save up enough money to move into a place of your own, and you’re single and have been for months.

This turns into an almost two-hour visit. If your parents aren’t asking you about your travels or asking Hansol about his job, they’re circling back to you and the fact that ‘now that you’re home and getting situated, you can think about eventually settling down. Since you’re almost thirty.’

You keep to yourself that you have had pretty lackluster luck when it comes to dating overall, but your mom still finds opportunities to sprinkle in that she could ask around to her friends about whose sons may be single, and you tell her you don’t need the help (even though you know she’ll likely do it anyway). 

Eventually, you manage to get your parents to talk about themselves and get them to update you on things in the house they’re fixing up, how your dad is doing at work, and some new crochet projects your mom is working on.

Even though they can smother you at times, you know they both do what they do out of love - especially your mom. You did miss your parents at the end of the day and they mean well. They love you and Hansol and have missed you terribly - the latter a fact that your mom made sure to reiterate over and over again.

Before you leave, your mom repeats how happy she is that you’re back home, especially in time for the holidays, and truthfully, so are you. You love holidays because you love decorating and you love all of the themed things that come with holidays. Hansol mentions that he and Chan have never really worried about decorating their apartment, which you immediately informed him will change this year. You plan on decorating the apartment for Halloween and will turn it into a winter wonderland come November. Your brother knows you well enough not to argue and simply laughs, shrugging and telling you to go crazy.

After you finally manage to escape from your parents’ house, you and Hansol split up. He’s going to meet up with some friends and will meet you at home later, he says. You take a cab for the short ride to the coffee shop you and Jinah are meeting at and you notice you’ve arrived first when you don’t see anyone that resembles her.

You’ve only sat down for less than a minute when she sweeps into the shop with her long coat, big sunglasses, and beanie. She slips the sunglasses down her nose and peers around before meeting your eyes. A smile breaks out across her red-painted lips and she rushes over to you. She looks as pretty as she did growing up and it warms your heart. It makes complete sense that she’s such a prolific model now.

“Y/n!” She says your name when making it to the table and pulling you into a hug.

“Hey, Jinah! It’s so good to see you!”

“You too! It’s been too long and I hate it.” She pouts at you as she moves to her seat, shedding her coat, and hanging it on the back of her chair.

“I know, I know. But I’m here now.”

“You are and you’re gonna get sick of seeing me so much! Especially, if you get a spot at the company! I’m still waiting for my boss to get back to me about your resume.”

“Ugh, I hope it’s soon. I’m not picky about what’s open honestly, I just need something.”

“Well you know I’ll call you as soon as I get some info. I’m sure they’ll hire you. I’m noted as your referral and everyone loves me there!”

Before you dive into more chit chat, you pause the conversation, wanting to order coffee. Jinah takes your order and goes to the counter herself, quickly coming back with two hot cups of caffeine.

“Okay, so no more work talk. How is it living with a couple of twenty-something boys after jetsetting all around the world?”

“Not so bad really. The apartment is surprisingly clean and put together. Me and Hansol have always been close, you know so it’s good so far. And Chan is cool - we’ve always gotten along. He was always around growing up so I’m used to having him in my space anyway. He’s different now of course, but uh, yeah you know.”

You stumble, just slightly on your last sentence and something flashes in Jinah’s eyes, her perfectly waxed brows rising almost immediately. You forgot about the fact that no matter how long you two spend apart, she’s still your best friend and she knows you almost as well as she knows herself.

“He’s different?” There’s a tilt in her voice that you don’t recall having in your words.

“I didn’t say it like that!”

“Yes, the hell you did! He’s different how? All I remember about your brother’s best friend is some skinny, big-headed kid that followed us around at school and whenever I was over your house.”

You bite your lip, assessing Jinah and if there’s any way you can steer the conversation elsewhere. 

No such luck arrives for you though as she sits there, unwavering as she patiently waits for you to tell her the truth. You already know she won’t leave it alone if you don’t.

Begrudgingly, you give in, letting out a heavy sigh. “Fine, whatever, he’s fucking hot now, okay?! I’ve only been there like three days and any time I run into him he’s nothing but polite and considerate. He’s always been nice but he’s mature now. It’s just so different.”

“Hmph. So, you think he’s mature and polite and hot now? Got it.” She nods, taking a sip of her coffee, and swallowing slowly before speaking. “So do you think you’ll finally give him a chance?”

“Absolutely not! He’s younger than me and not only my brother’s best fucking friend but we’re roommates now. The level of messiness went from 80% to 180% if something goes wrong between us.”

“Yeah, but the chances of things going well also go from 80% to 180% too, right?”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“But you’re both adults! What does it matter? Do you think Hansol will care?”

“I don’t know. But again, the main problem is if Chan and I only end up being a hookup or one of us wants something that the other doesn’t then living with the man will be incredibly awkward, and once again, he and my brother are best friends. Things won’t only be awkward for us, but I don’t want to drag Sol into that mess either. So it’s in everyone’s best interest that I keep my mouth and my legs closed and don’t even think about trying anything with Chan.”

Jinah hums and clearly disagrees but she doesn’t press it. Not that she has to because just like she knows you, you know her, and you know she has so many objections rattling around in her head.

“Anyway, time to hear about you! Tell me about your love life! Is it busy? Are you seeing anyone? Are you sleeping with anyone? I want to know everything about Im Jinah’s romantic endeavors.”

Your best friend clicks her tongue at you, noticing the obvious conversation redirect, but she obliges. She talks about a guy she’s mentioned to you before that she works with that she’s been on a few dates with. As an aside, she mentions that there are plenty of hot, single people at her company that you’ll run into, but you wave that part off.

She mentions that she needs to go shopping this upcoming weekend for a Halloween costume for a party a friend of hers is throwing at the end of October. She also addsthat you too, will be going to said party with her.

“I am?”

“You are. So, this weekend we’ll be getting costumes. A guy I’ve done a ton of ads and shoots with has a party every year and you’ll be my plus one! He’s super nice and pretty wealthy so his place is really nice.”

You do love Halloween and you haven’t really gotten to do much to celebrate it the last handful of years, so you agree to go, even though you knew she would’ve hounded you about going for days anyway. You saved both of you some trouble.

On the topic of Christmas, the two of you get caught up in talking about needing to figure out what to get people and when to go shopping to get ahead of it. You easily fall into conversation with your best friend, your subject changing every few minutes as you laugh and properly get caught up until you’ve both got two empty coffee cups each.

Eventually, Jinah glances at her watch and curses. 

“Damn, I’ve got another meeting to run to. My manager and I have been meeting with a few magazines for some last-minute holiday ads they want to shoot for. “I’ll be sure to badger her about any news on your resume okay?”

You and Jinah exchange your goodbyes and you promise to chat in a few days if you don’t hear from her sooner. Even though she’s busy, she cites she’ll still be sure to make time for the two of you to hang out more. You both walk out of the shop together and with a goodbye hug, you both go your separate ways. Her to grab a taxi and you to the train station to head back home.

Chan really thought he was done with big life revelations. His last and biggest was deciding that college and a traditional degree weren’t what he wanted. After that, a bunch of smaller decisions hit him but no combination of realizations, big or small, could’ve prepared him for the fact that he’s still hopelessly in love with the same girl for the last almost fifteen years.

But seeing you again was like someone doused him with a gallon of cold water to the face. Shocking and jarring and nothing could’ve prepared him. Not for the way his eyes almost bugged out of his head upon seeing you again after what felt like far too long or the way his palms got sweaty just being close to you, even though he had just finished a shower before seeing you.

Chan was so sure that he was over you. He’s had plenty of partners over the years. Some serious and some not so much, but he doesn’t think he’s ever compared any of those people to you. It’s been years so surely he isn’t still hung up on his best friend’s older sister.

Unfortunately for him, that is exactly what he is and he’s not sure what to do with this information. A tiny voice in the back of his mind keeps telling him he’s a loser for not being over his childhood crush who has never reciprocated the feelings anyway. Never once have you made any indication that you thought of Chan the same, so it’s not as though you’re going to magically do it now…right?

His mind is so wrapped up in you that he keeps fumbling with the moves he practices at work in preparation for a dance class in a few days. He lets out another frustrated huff as he watches himself in the mirror trip over his feet yet again.

Chan’s close friend and co-choreographer at the studio walks over to the boombox at the side of the room, cutting off the music and staring him down.

“Okay, where’s your head, Chan?” Soonyoung looks at him pointedly. “You’ve been distracted since you get here and keep fucking up.” He waits for an answer, hands on his hips. 

Chan hesitates for a moment, wondering if he wants to repeat his early years - where he would tell anyone who would listen that he was in love with Y/n Chwe. This is different though, this is his friend checking on him so he decides to tell Soonyoung.

“The girl I’ve loved since I was ten is back in town.”

“Okay?”

“And I still love her.”

“And? You’re both adults now so you can do something about it right?”

“And she’s living with me. We’re roommates now.”

“And?” Soonyoung rolls his eyes, still not seeing too much of an issue with this.

“She, uh, she’s Hansol’s sister.”

Soonyoung cocks his head to the side in thought. “Okay…well what’s the problem? Hansol is super chill. Do you think he’ll be mad about it?”

“I don’t know. I know Hansol more than almost anybody, but for some reason, I’m still really stressed about how he’ll react.”

“You could always ask him?” Soonyoung tries, offering Chan a bottle of water from the cooler across the room.

“I don’t know. I mean, even if I do and he’s okay with it, what if I ask her out and she says no? She had never liked me like that when we were young. I was always just her brother’s snot-nosed best friend.”

“I get being worried about that, but you’re grown now. Maybe things can be different?”

“Yeah, but if she turns me down, I don’t want to make things awkward for us all living together. And even if I am in some bizarre universe where she is into me too, I could very well fuck this up and she’ll want nothing to do with me and we’ll break up and it’ll still be awkward and then Hansol could not want to be my friend anymore or want me to move out and then what?” Chan ends his rant with a grunt, sliding against the mirror until he plops onto the hardwood floor. Soonyoung comes over and joins him, sitting cross-legged next to his friend.

“This has really been on your mind huh?”

“Hard for it not to be when she is as beautiful as always and sleeping in the room right next to me now.”

“Well, even though I’ve never been through something like this, my advice? Maybe try to just take it slow. Hang out with her more, test the waters, and see if she reciprocates. If so, then either keep getting closer or ask her out and go from there. What’s the point in constant what-ifs you know? Maybe you’re getting a second chance now that you’re both adults and in good places in your life. And sure you might fuck it up, but you also might not. You’ll never know if you don’t try.” Soonyoung shrugs, taking a gulp of water.

Chan side-eyes his friend, genuinely surprised at his words. 

“Since when did you turn into a relationship expert with actual good advice?”

Soonyoung chokes on his water, coughing loudly to recover. “What do you mean actual good advice?! I give good advice all the time!”

“Tsk, just like that so-called, good advice you gave me that one time we went to the club and you told me I should start a dance battle with that girl that was flirting with me?”

The man looks genuinely offended, hand flying to his chest in surprise. 

“First of all, I was drunk! Second of all, that was a good idea. She said she liked dancers!”

“Yeah, but I think she meant slow, sensual dancing like we had been doing all night before you swooped in with your so-called, good advice.”

“Whatever! Don’t take my advice and pine over this woman for another decade. Just decide so you can stop fucking up this dance!” Soonyoung pushes him over, making him land on his side, but the push is more playful than anything.

While Soonyoung may not have a great track record of steering Chan in the right direction, he mulls it over for the rest of the day after getting back to practicing. He ultimately decides that maybe Soonyoung is right. He won’t do anything weird or out of the ordinary. He’ll just be himself and try to spend more time with you and hopefully be able to show you the real him. The him that’s a mid-twenties career man with a plan and a future, who’s much more mature than from when you used to know him. 

If he’s lucky, he won’t make a fool out of himself and if you’re not into him still, you’ll at least let him down gently. If he’s super lucky, you’ll feel the same way about him and he’ll finally get to call you his.

He’s not going to hold his breath, but he’ll regret it once again if he doesn’t at least try with you, unlike he failed to do when he was young and dumb.

Getting the call three days later from Jinah that you got a job at her agency was the best news you’ve gotten in a very long time. Her boss manages to get you a role in their travel department. You’d be working with the assistants of the models to help get their travel booked, manage their transportation, and help arrange all things travel related. While you don’t have any office experience, your flight attendant experience seems to be enough to get you into the role and you weren’t about to argue with that.

As soon as you start, you consider yourself lucky that you seem to fall into the team you’re on easily. It’s not difficult to get comfortable and find your place which makes getting settled all that much simpler. Plus, the pay is decent, and even a little more than what you previously made, so you can’t complain about that.

Jinah uses the Halloween party she told you about as an excuse to go out with you again and an excuse to celebrate your job. Hansol and Chan had already gotten you a small cake to celebrate which was extremely sweet, so you don’t mind celebrating with Jinah. 

The cake, you learn in passing from Hansol, was Chan’s idea. It’s only one thing on the long list of ways that Chan has succeeded in getting closer to you over the weeks that it takes you to get settled in. You’ve spent time with Chan as a kid when he was around all the time, but you really get the chance to know him now that you’re adults living together.

You learn most, if not all of his likes and dislikes. His favorite colors, favorite foods, movies he likes, and celebrities he can’t stand (his one-sided rivalry with Lee Byunghun is especially funny to you since he also compliments his acting whenever one of his movies is on). He’s constantly making you laugh, always asking how your day was when you see each other in the evenings, and he always says good morning and asks how you slept when you get up for the day. On nights when he has to get dinner for you all, he always asks if there’s any food you're craving because he promises he’ll pick it up or make it (and he always does every time). 

On the weekends, when you’re home relaxing and sleeping in, and if he works, he has started to call home often and ask if you need him to grab anything on the way home, be it medicine, food, a video rental, or anything in between. Chan makes it a habit to check in with you even more than your brother, which Hansol calls out one night over dinner. Chan’s cheeks go red and he throws a wayward shrimp at his best friend but doesn’t deny it, citing that he just wants to help you be comfortable.

If he isn’t checking on you or buying you small things, he’s making sure your laundry is washed if he’s doing his and that your favorite mug (the yellow one with the fried eggs print all over it) is always washed. He makes sure your favorite snacks are in the apartment and that you’re never without anything you need - even finding out your preferred brand of tampons and pads and wordlessly getting them for you.

By the time the end of October rolls around, you’ve been living with Chan and your brother for a month and your feelings for Chan are only growing, much to your utter dismay. You don’t want to like him, for the multitude of reasons you’ve already outlined in your head and to Jinah, but he makes it damn near impossible. If he’s not being the most sweet and polite man you’ve ever been around, he’s walking around the apartment shirtless from time to time or coming back from the gym or work sweaty and flushed with his arms on display.

He constantly treats you like a true gentleman would, carrying groceries for you and doing any heavy lifting around the apartment that comes up. It may be the bare minimum, but Chan treats you better as someone you’re not dating than anyone you actually have dated. You’re in a constant battle between your coochie and your heart about your array of feelings for Lee Chan and it’s only serving to drive you crazier each day. 

On the night of Halloween, when Jinah is in your room with you getting ready for her friend’s party, she teases that Chan may not be able to hold himself back when he sees you.

“I don’t know, Y/n. Your ass does look really good in this jumpsuit.” You admire your figure in your mirror, admiring how the soft yet clingy fabric does, in fact, do your ass justice.

You and Jinah decided to go with a theme for your costumes. She’s going as an angel, complete with a white mini-dress, wings, and a halo. You went with a devil, the red, clingy jumpsuit you wear hugs every part of your body that you’d wanna show off and the zipper in the front is open just enough to accentuate your cleavage. The horns attached to the headband on your head sit comfortably and are the finishing touch.

Yes, you’re not supposed to want Chan to like you because it’ll make it that much harder for you, but you don’t mind the idea of him looking.

“Ready?” You ask when you’re finally done with your makeup, making sure your red lipstick is perfect.

“Yep! Let me call a car for us!” You and Jinah leave your room and she fishes her Nokia from her white bag. 

When you step into the living room, you nearly trip over your feet upon seeing Chan lounging on the couch, flipping through TV channels. You know he and Hansol are also going out tonight to their friend Junhui’s Halloween party, but you hadn’t discussed your costumes. 

His black t-shirt is as tight as your jumpsuit is and displays every muscle and ripple in his arms and chest and you even swear you can make out the faint outline of his abs. The black pants he wears are baggy since he’s dressed as a firefighter, but the fabric stretches over his thighs as he spreads his legs, and the suspenders that keep those pants up stir something feral within you. It takes every ounce of willpower not to go over and mount yourself in his lap right then and there.

Chan notices you both come in and hurries to sit up, making room on the couch for you. He seems to take notice of your costume and you watch as his eyes sweep over you from head to toe, unabashed and almost forgetting (or uncaring) that you can see him checking you out.

“Hey! You, uh, you look amazing.” He blurts, eyes still locked onto you. Jinah clears her voice from next to you and Chan seems to then remember that someone else is in the room. “Er, ah, you both do!” He adds, eyes flickering to your best friend who just snorts.

“Thanks, Chan. Our ride is here though, so I do have to steal her away now.”

“Ah, okay. Sure. I’ll see you later tonight, Y/n. Have fun and you both stay safe, okay?”

You nod, telling him to do the same. You catch sight of your brother as you and Jinah are on your way to the door. His Ghostface robe drags on the carpet as he comes down the hall.

Once you and Jinah slide into the car, and she gives the driver the address, she gives you a look.

“Don’t,” you say, stopping her before she can say what you already know she will.

“What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’?”

“Don’t say it.”

“Don’t say what? That Chan got real-time tunnel vision checking you out in your costume and that he forgot I was even in the room.”

“Yes, that! Don’t say that!”

She shrugs, reaching into her bag and pulling out her compact to check her reflection.

“Okay. I won’t say it. I don’t really need to since you know.”

You did, of course, you did. You could feel the heat in his gaze when he looked at you, but you remind yourself that you can’t do anything more than look. Maybe if you’re lucky, someone at this party can distract you.

Truth be told, when you longed for someone at this party to distract you from Chan, you were only putting it into the universe and just keeping your fingers crossed. You didn’t think you’d actually find someone else to catch your interest. You didn’t anticipate that Jinah’s model friend that owns the large, expertly decorated house would take an interest in you, and yet he did the moment you met him.

“Minhyuk, this is my best friend, Y/n! Y/n, this is Lee Minhyuk. Y/n just moved back to Seoul after traveling for work.”

Minhyuk wastes no time in bowing to you before grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on the top of it.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/n. Any friend of Jinah is a friend of mine.” The handsome man smiles widely at you, making you swoon on the spot. “Especially a friend as stunning as you.”

One look at this buff, beautiful man with perfect hair, perfect teeth, and a perfect face and you’re not surprised in the slightest that he’s a model. You’re sure he can get any woman that he wants and that his charms work on anyone he flashes a brilliant smile to. You’re annoyed that he’s having the same effect on you the more he talks to you and stays by your side for the first hour of the party. You chalk it up to having been single for so long and on your repressed desire for Chan, but you let Minhyuk flirt with you and drape his arm over your shoulder as he asks you about your flight attendant days.

Jinah stays with you both for a while after introducing you, but when it seems obvious that Minhyuk is making heart eyes at you, she excuses the two of you momentarily, pulling you aside.

“Hey, are you okay?!” She says as best as she can in your ear. The music from the sound system in the next room is quieter in the dining room you’re standing in, but is still turned up to a booming volume.

“Yeah, I’m good!”

“You sure? He’s hitting on you pretty hard. He’s a good guy but say the word and we’re out of here.” You mull your next words and decisions over, ultimately deciding to stay and see where things go with Minhyuk. You had asked the universe for a distraction on your way and here it is so why pass it up?

“I’m sure. If I need you or want out, I’ll tell you.” Jinah gives you another firm look before relenting and going with you back to Minhyuk’s side.

An hour later Minhyuk offers to show you around his house. Jinah stares at you, trying to gauge your reaction. You’re sure this will end up with the two of you somewhere in this house, presumably naked, but you decide that’s exactly what you need.

Minhyuk keeps his arm draped over your shoulders as she gives you a tour of his house, avoiding all of the drunken party goers and horny couples making out as you go. Almost every room in his house has people packed into it. His den, his game room, his second living room, and all four of his guest rooms. The only room that has no one else in it is his bedroom which is where you ultimately end up.

“Your house is very fancy,” you compliment, looking around his bedroom. The bed is bigger than even some of the hotel beds you’ve slept in. The duvet is soft under your palms as you sit on the edge and lean back on your hands. Art hangs on the walls and he has two dressers that you can see. You can’t see into the bathroom across the room, but the tub you catch sight of has to be able to fit at least four people.

“Thank you, I’m glad you like it. How’s the bed?” Minhyuk smirks at you from across the room, leaning against a tall dresser. The scrubs of his doctor costume are standard, save for the fact that the top is sleeveless. He crosses his arms and you see how every muscle flexes and twitches under his tan skin

“Mmm, it’s pretty soft. Your duvet is nice.” You cross and uncross your legs, watching as the model follows your movements with his eyes. 

“Yeah? The sheets are even better.”

“You don’t say?”

“Yeah. They’re real silk. And temperature controlled so they’re the perfect coolness and won’t make you hot.” As he speaks he stalks towards you, tossing aside the surgical mask that has been hanging under his chin since you met him.

“Oh? They sound expensive.”

“They are. And they feel like a cloud. Wanna feel them?” Minhyuk is standing in front of you now, his knee resting against the edge of the bed between your legs, waiting for your next words.

You don’t leave him waiting for long, as you breathe out an “I’d love to,” and he immediately bends forward, hands grabbing your face to pull you into a heated kiss. Your hands reach out to grasp at his arms, nails lightly digging into the firm flesh.

Minhyuk grunts into your mouth, fully climbing onto the bed to hover over your body. One hand stays on your cheek while the other travels down your body, grabbing and squeezing as he settles on your hip. 

His tongue slips into your mouth when you separate your lips to take in a breath. Your bodies move together as you shuffle backward up the bed a little, giving him more room to drape his body over yours and kneel between your legs. He presses his pelvis forward, the movement causing him to brush against you, the clothed tip of his hardening length grazing your crotch.

The sensation makes him groan and pause for a moment, his tongue and body stilling. A jolt of confidence rushes over you, making you shift underneath him and flip him onto his side. You quickly push him all the way onto his back and crawl into his lap.

“Mmm maybe I like this view more than you under me,” he mumbles, admiring the new position. He only gets a moment to take it in before you’re leaning down to kiss him again, your fingers brushing through his dark hair. Minhyuk’s hands move down your back to grip your ass.

Your make out session lasts for a few minutes, your mind finally slipping away from everything else that has been tumbling around in your brain. At some point, Minhyuk pulls away with a gasp and quickly peels his top off, tossing it aside before leaning back and letting you ogle him.

Your mouth drops at the sight of him, all chiseled muscle and rippling abs. You gawk for only a moment before your brain decides to remind you of the way that Chan looks without a shirt. He’s also muscular but in a much softer way. Chan’s abs are lightly defined and his pecs are still visible. You also always find your way back to thinking of that day when he had just gotten out of the shower, of the small happy trail that runs down, down, down to where you can’t see. You wonder how soft that dusting of hair is.

Minhyuk momentarily pushes away your Chan imagery when he reaches up to grab your face to pull you back down to kiss him again. Your hands stretch out to steady yourself, finding purchase on his biceps. The hard muscles twitch under your fingers and you squeeze in return. Immediately, you’re reminded of how soft Chan’s biceps and arms are. 

A week ago the two of you had run into each other in the hallway of the apartment. You were leaving when he was rounding the corner, coming back from the gym. He had a tank top on and when he appeared in front of you, you both jumped, yelping in surprise. You had reached your hands out by instinct, with the intention of doing what you’re not sure, but when you noticed it was Chan at the last minute your hands unfurled from fists and gripped his arms to steady yourself. 

His arms were built, but still so soft and smooth under your hands. That feeling has stayed with you even now as you think about Chan and his arms while another man is kissing your neck.

All of a sudden, you wonder what it would feel like if Chan was the one that was under you and if he was the one whose lips were pressing kisses on your throat instead.

Minhyuk’s fingers walk their way to the front of your jumpsuit and he flicks at the zipper that keeps your outfit secure. Before he has a chance to unzip it, his bedroom door bursts open and a woman stands in the doorway, yelling his name angrily.

The intrusion makes you jump, jerking too far back and toppling backward onto the floor.

“Shit, Y/n! You okay?!” Minhyuk jumps up and offers you his hand, being nice enough to at least check on you.

“Minhyuk, what the fuck?!” The woman screeches again, stomping over to him and shoving his chest. “I’ve been walking around this stupid party looking for you for like half an hour! You invited me tonight just to run off and fuck someone else?!” 

“Hyoseong, I’m sorry, I-” Hyoseong cuts him off by shoving him backward, making him lose his balance and fall back onto the bed. He’s too close to the corner of the bed though, because he keeps going and falls back off the side, yelping the whole time.

Hyoseong smirks, satisfied as she watches him before turning her gaze to you still standing there awkwardly. The flame in her eyes diminishes and is replaced with concern. 

“He’s not worth it, I promise. All he knows how to do is fuck every girl he looks at and lead you on!” She screams that last part at him before turning and storming back out of the room. 

Embarrassment is written all over Minhyuk’s face as he scrambles up and gives you a sheepish smile. He opens his mouth to say something, but you speak first.

“Don’t even try it.” You stick your palm out at him, stopping him from responding.

He listens, not saying anything as you leave the room and beeline back downstairs in search of Jinah. You find her in the kitchen talking to a few other girls and when she sees you, she immediately rushes over to you, worry written all over her face. You reassure her that you’re okay and tell her about Hyoseong and she gasps.

“Fuck, I thought they broke up! Ugh, Y/n, I’m so sorry. I’ll go kick his ass right now!” She looks over your shoulder for him, but you stop her. This is clearly a story you’ll have to ask her about on another day. Right now, all you want to do is go home, shower, and flop into bed.

She doesn’t let you convince her to stay and have fun and is already calling a car for you both. You ride together and you tell her what was going through your head when you were hooking up with Minhyuk and she just nods, letting you pour out your garbled thoughts.

Of course, her response is to act on these feelings, but you quickly shut that down, reminding her of the list of reasons that you cannot act on said feelings. As she’s gotten accustomed to doing, she rolls her eyes and tells you that you’re thinking too much into this.

The conversation dies when you pull up at home, thanking her for the ride and hurrying out before she can keep bringing it up.

Chan is fucked. That’s all he thinks when he and Hansol get to Junhui’s party. Ever since you left, all that his brain plays on a loop is you in that red jumpsuit. It is long sleeved and the bottom of the pants are flared, but the fabric hugs you in every way imaginable. The only things he wanted to look at was the curve of your hips, the swell of your breasts, and the way it framed your ass as you left. 

He knows that the image of you in that costume is all he’ll think about for not only the rest of the night but quite possibly for the rest of his life. He did his very best not to make it obvious he was checking you out, but in his defense, he swears he also saw your eyes stay too long on his chest and his thighs. 

As the month has ticked by living with you, Chan has only fallen for you even more than he thought was possible. Everything you do and say makes his heart race. Every time he sees you, he wants to hold and kiss you, no matter what time of day it is. You look just as beautiful waking up as you do going to sleep. 

He’s whipped and he hasn’t even told you that he’s still in love with you.

He knows he only has eyes for you because he spends the first hour of the party talking with his friends and sipping on a drink, but he still keeps going back to you in his mind. He knows he is especially hopeless when a cute girl approaches him and asks him to dance. He forgets her name as soon as she says it (Yerim maybe?) and even though she looks incredibly sexy in her little black dress and cat ears, the only thing Chan can see is you when he closes his eyes.

Even when she drags him to the living room to dance and presses her body close to his, he wishes it was you that was rubbing your ass against his crotch. Chan wonders what you’re doing right now and if you’re dancing with someone else just like this. He beats himself up at the thought, chiding himself for not asking you to come to this party instead or even to stop by after the one you’re at now. Even though Jinah asked you to her friend’s party first, he still should’ve brought it up, but he was too nervous you’d turn him down. He hates the idea of you looking that stunning and having other people look at you or touch you. He wants you so bad, in any way you’ll have him, and he doesn’t care how pathetic that sounds.

The cat girl seems to take notice that Chan is distracted as his arms lay limp on her hips. She turns around, draping her arms around his neck and pressing her tits against his chest. Her wide brown eyes blink up at him and her black painted lips curl up in a smile. She’s really cute, Chan can admit - like really cute - but she’s also not you. Before he can think anymore, she’s on her tiptoes, placing a kiss on his lips. 

Any other time, he doesn’t think he’d turn down a cute girl that is so obviously into him and he certainly wouldn’t turn away from a kiss, but this time is different. This time, Chan only thinks of you and wishes this was you. That’s why he doesn’t make much effort to kiss her back. Not a single spark pops between him and the cat girl. She quickly gets tired of his lack of enthusiasm, soon pulling away and turning in a huff to leave him standing in the middle of the living room. 

Chan watches her go, his eyes looking around the room and it hits him how much he doesn’t actually want to be here. He’d much rather be back at home, sitting on the couch with you watching late night sitcoms like the two of you have fallen into the habit of doing. 

He’s only at the party for a couple of hours, before he finds Hansol in the kitchen, letting him know that he doesn’t feel very party-like anymore and decides to go home. Hansol is right in the middle of racing with their friend Seokmin, trying to shotgun a beer faster than him, but when he wins, he gives Chan his attention.

“Are you sure? You want me to go with you?”

“Nah, I’m good. Stay. I’m just gonna shower and probably chill.”

“Alright, dude. Can you just keep an eye out for Y/n when you get back?”

Hansol doesn’t have to ask twice. Even if he hadn’t asked once, Chan would’ve looked out for you anyway. It’s why after he’s showered and gotten a snack, he goes to the couch instead of his bed. He assumes you won’t be home until it’s late, but if he’s lucky he’ll catch a glimpse of you before you go to bed and will make sure you’re safe.

He’ll also get one more look at your costume which isn’t as important as making sure you’re safe, but it’s absolutely something he’s looking forward to.

When you get home, you’re surprised to see that the TV in the living room is on. When you round the corner you see Chan sitting on the couch, under a blanket with popcorn in hand and eyes wide in surprise at seeing you.

“Hey, Y/n! You’re home early.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t really feeling like being at a party anymore. Too people-y. I’m surprised you’re here though.”

Chan shrugs, “I guess I wasn’t feeling like being at a party either.”

You hum, glancing at the space on the couch he makes for you. “I’m gonna shower and put on my pajamas. Mind if I hang out here with you when I’m done? I’m not that tired yet.”

“Yeah! I mean, uh, yeah of course you can.” He clears his throat, eyes still flickering between you and the TV.

“Great. I’ll be quick and then we can watch a movie?” Chan nods and shamelessly watches you go when you hurry down the hall and into the bathroom. 

You remove your makeup and shower faster than you think you ever have, eager to spend the evening with Chan.

Once your most comfortable pajamas are on, you join him, plopping next to him on the couch. 

“So, what’re we watching?”

“Scream?”

“Oh, yes! Both of them?”

“Sure.” 

Chan starts the movie already in the VCR and passes you the bowl in his hands which you eagerly accept. As the movie goes on, you both start on your respective sides of the couch. It isn’t until you’re halfway through the first movie that you have half a mind to notice that your leg brushes against Chan’s each time you adjust. At first, you jump at the contact, and he seems to as well, both of you shifting away embarrassedly.

That only lasts for a small amount of time though, because by the end of the movie, you’re both close again and the bowl of popcorn you’ve been sharing is empty. After Chan gets up and puts in the second movie, he comes back to the couch and sits down, this time close enough that your thighs touch and neither of you moves.

You continue to stay close to one another as you watch the movie and eventually, you’re so close that you’re practically cuddling. You’re not, but you may as well. Seeing how at some point, you end up falling asleep with your head on Chan’s shoulder and his arm draped around your waist.

You only know this to be the case when you’re woken up sometime later, Hansol’s voice rousing you out of your sleep. When you open your eyes, the first thing you see is Ghostface staring down at you, causing you to scream, jolting into Chan’s lap and making the man jolt awake too. His eyes meet Ghostface standing in front of you both, also making him shriek and grasp onto you for protection.

Hansol lets out a chuckle, and lifts the mask, taking in the terror written on his roommates’ faces. 

“It’s just me.”

“Jesus, Sol! You could’ve taken the damn mask off before you scared the shit out of us.”

You toss a pillow at him, hitting him in the gut, but he doesn't flinch. 

“Nah this was more fun.” He dodges the second pillow that Chan tries to smack him with and says goodnight to you both as he sprints down the hall.

Once he’s gone, you both realize that you’re still partially in Chan’s lap and he still has an arm around you. You sit up quickly, sharing an awkward laugh with him as you get up, announcing that you’ll start to clean up. Chan helps and you tidy up the living room and cut the TV off, refolding the blanket you shared and saying goodnight before you go your separate ways to your rooms. 

Your words are awkward, but neither of you can get over how warm and right it felt being so close. You tell yourself to forget it as you get into bed, reminding yourself that you can’t do that again.

Meanwhile, Chan can’t help but wonder if you’re thinking about him too, just like he’s thinking about you and the way you smell and how much he wants to hold you like that again one day.

He’s not sure if that’ll be a reality for him, but he can only hope so.

November is halfway over when you think that maybe you can finally, fully and unabashedly admit that you like Lee Chan. After Halloween night when you fell asleep together, you’ve only been spending more time with him and getting to know more about him. The problem is, the more you get to know Chan, the more you’re unable to ignore the rapidly growing crush on him.

You want to date him and have sex with him and kiss him. You want to hold his hand when you're grocery shopping or if you’re both in the same room. You want to hug him when you’re sitting next to each other on the couch or on the floor. You want to sleep in the same bed with him, cuddle against his chest, and wake up next to him the following morning.

You admit this to Jinah one day over lunch and she isn’t the least bit surprised. She’s stopped being so enthusiastic about you admitting your feelings for and to Chan, but you already know that’s what she wants to tell you to do whenever you talk about him or she sees you looking at him if you’re all in the same room.

It gets worse when you and Chan spend a day together decorating the apartment for Christmas. He helps you get the tree - a small plastic, realistic looking one since none of you want to deal with the work of a real one - decorate it, and hang up other decorations around the apartment. It all feels so incredibly domestic, similar to all of the cheesy rom coms you’ve had to watch on long flights around this time of year. Of course Hansol is there helping too, but he doesn’t seem to get in between the two of you when you stand too close or reach for the same ornaments. 

Well, it’s more likely that he literally doesn’t even notice, but it’s still very cozy and special nonetheless. 

Either way, Chan only continues to prove himself as the sweetest, most caring man you’ve ever been around and it’s only serving to stoke the fire that is your feelings for him. It was getting harder and harder to separate those feelings until you simply can’t deny them anymore. 

You’re not alone in this want and desire. Every day that Chan has to see you and spend time with you, he only falls for you more. He thought his feelings were rough to grapple with when he was a kid, but this is different. Now that he’s spent so much time with you as adults, getting to know any and everything about you, it only cements his love for you into his heart.

This only makes things harder for him. He’s been trying to take Soonyoung’s advice and show more of the true him to you and he can’t tell if it’s working or not. You seem to enjoy being around him and he knows that at times he’s seen your eyes stray over his body. It’s not enough to make him brave enough to make any moves yet, but he thinks about it constantly. What if he’s reading the signals wrong? What if you’re just really nice and a good roommate and you don’t feel anything remotely romantic for him?

It’s that doubt and fear that has him keeping his mouth shut. Instead, he just constantly thinks about every part of you that he likes (which is everything, to be honest). He thinks about how pretty you are and how soft your skin is. He’s been lucky enough to accidentally knock into you or brush arms or thighs on occasion and every time he feels electricity throughout his body. He constantly thinks about how good you smell and how he can rank a list of all of his favorite outfits that you own. He thinks about your smile and your laugh and the way your expressions change when you experience different emotions.

Lee Chan is in love with you. Always has been and at this rate, probably always will be. He wants to be with you in every way possible. You’re always on his mind, but when he’s in bed, with only a single wall separating you both, he can’t help but think of other things that he likes about you.

Like how pretty your lips are when he sees you wrap them around a bottle or lick stray food from your fingers. Or how tempting your legs look when the heat in the apartment is a little too warm and you wear small sleep shorts. Or even the sound of your voice when you talk to him. He can imagine so easily how soft and breathy your voice could sound while you say his name if he was between your legs in either your bed or his.

Chan thinks about all of these things so much more when he wraps his hand around his aching cock and jerks off, wishing that it was your hand, or mouth, or pussy around him instead. He thinks about how much he’d love to watch you fall apart for him and only him. 

When he cums all over himself with a whisper of your name on his lips, he starts to feel a little guilty for thinking of you like this but reminds himself that it’s just fantasies and he’s not acting on anything.

Little does he know that you want him to act on all of those things and more. He’s on your mind most nights too and you can’t help but slip your fingers between your legs. You think about his laugh and his wonderful smile and how high pitched his moans probably are and how stunning you know he’d look under you while you ride him. When your fingers are buried inside of yourself knuckle deep, you want so badly for it to be him and his fingers or his cock. 

You have similar conflicting feelings after you fall apart, biting down on your lip to stop from crying his name. Guilt washes over you after the orgasm haze lifts and you scold yourself for thinking of him like this when you specifically tell yourself not to. That lasts for a bit until you remind yourself that it’s not like you can act on any of these fantasies so they’re better off as just that.

It's Thursday when snow starts to fall and cover the city of Seoul. You don’t mind too much. You can’t remember the last time you were in a place where you’d have the potential of a snowy Christmas, so you weren’t complaining too much.

Saturday is when the snow stops and sits on the ground like a fresh blanket. Your original plan is to lounge around the apartment and enjoy a day of nothing, the book you’ve been meaning to finish in hand when the phone rings. Your plans are rerouted when Hansol announces that you’re all going ice skating. Seungkwan and his partner want to go to the new outdoor skating rink that recently opened, but they want to invite all of you. You’re prepared to turn down the invitation because you’re cozy and you don’t even know how to skate, until Chan, who’s on the couch next to you playing his Game Boy, looks up and nods. He gives you a sidelong glance to see what your answer will be. The excited look on his face is enough for you to agree.

Half an hour later the three of you are in Hansol’s car and driving to the rink. Seungkwan and his partner are there when you arrive along with their other friend Seokmin who you recognize a little but from high school. Everyone eagerly lines up at the booth to get their rental skates and you lag behind. Chan notices and moves to stand next to you, asking if you’re okay.

“I’m fine I just, I don’t actually know how to skate.”

“Wait, really? Why didn’t you mention that earlier?”

You shrug, taking a step as the line moves. “I don’t know. Everyone seemed excited to come so I didn’t wanna ruin it.” That’s partially true. You also just wanted to spend time with him, but you keep that to yourself.

“Well don’t worry, I’ll help you.”

“Ah, you don’t have to-” 

“Nope. I wasn’t asking! I’m telling you that I’ll help.” He gives you a wide smile that makes you melt just as fast as the snow piled under your feet.

When it’s finally your turn for your skates, you ask for your size and Chan insists on paying for your rental with his, ignoring how many times you object. He leads you both to a bench on the side of the rink and helps you lace up your skates. Once they’re on and secure, you adjust your scarf and gloves and wait for him to finish putting his on.

Chan stands first and offers you his gloved hand which you take without much thought. Slowly, he leads you to the entrance of the rink, letting you slowly step out as he skates backward. As soon as your foot makes contact with the ice you almost feel your balance give out, but Chan keeps a strong grip on your hands, helping keep you upright.

“I won’t let you fall. Promise.” He smiles at you again, this time soft and warm and the gesture feels like a comforting hug. 

You and Chan do an entire lap around the rink, albeit slowly, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Hansol has already passed you both numerous times, as has Seungkwan, but Chan doesn’t pay them any mind. All of his attention is locked on you and only you.

You manage to do a few more laps, your legs feeling more confident each time. Chan keeps skating backwards with his hands on you, the two of you falling into conversation and laughing the more comfortable you get with him ferrying you around the ice.

Things are going well. Your time with him feels so incredibly right. He seems to be enjoying it too because at some point he shortens the gap between both of you and moves his hands from around yours to your forearms, your biceps, and eventually, his hands are around your waist and yours are draped over his shoulder. The closeness is not exactly normal for two roommates who  are not romantically involved, but neither of you moves away.

Your cheeks, nose, and lips are so cold that eventually, you’re ready to call for a break, but then you notice how close Chan is and how red his lips are. He looks cold too and you wonder what will happen if you lean forward and close the already lessening gap. 

Chan’s eyes flicker up from your feet to your eyes, and then your lips. You hold your breath in that moment and look between his lips and his eyes. Something between the two of you stirs and you swear you see him inching his face closer and closer. 

Before you can finally kiss Chan like you’ve been daydreaming about for the past 2 and a half months, you shift on your left foot which proves to be a horrible idea. You’re falling backward faster than you and Chan can register. You attempt to put your hands back to break your fall which helps because you don’t fall on your ass but you do land on your left wrist with more force than you thought. A sharp, shooting pain runs from your wrist to your elbow making you yelp in pain.

“Y/n!” Chan drops to his knees to check on you and Hansol is at your side in seconds. 

“I’m okay, I think I fucked up my wrist though.” They both help you up, each man on either side of you to get you off of the ice. They sit you on a bench and Chan takes off your skates, then his before sprinting to the bench you both started at that still has your boots.

The rest of your group joins you to check in and you notice a few other skaters looking in your direction. In between the pain in your wrist, you feel utter mortification at all of the attention and the way that you busted your ass in front of everyone. Especially given the fact that you swear that you were so close to kissing Chan.

When he comes back with your boots, Chan helps you stand up and announces that he and Hansol will take you to the hospital. You try to object, but they don't want to hear it.

So, you end your day sitting in the hospital getting a wrist brace put on. The doctor says it’s only a mild sprain and all you need to do is wear your brace and use your wrist as little as possible for at least two weeks and you should be just fine. 

Even though Chan is in the room when the words “mild sprain” leave the doctor’s mouth, he still treats you as if you have two broken legs and a concussion. He insists on helping you out of the hospital and car and into the apartment. When you sit on the couch he makes sure to prop the throw pillows up under your arm to keep your wrist elevated. 

“Chan, my arm won’t fall off.”

“I know, but the doctor recommended keeping it elevated, remember? Now are you hungry? I think we have some leftovers, or if you want me to go out and grab something I can.” He stares at you concerned, waiting for your next order.

Shaking your head you slide over on the couch and gesture to the cushion. “Chan, I promise I’m fine. All I need is for you to sit down and just relax. I ruined skating so try and enjoy the rest of your Saturday.”

“Hey, you didn’t ruin anything! It was an accident. I’m just happy you’re okay.” Chan’s hand lifts and hovers over your good hand sitting on the cushion between the two of you. It’s only for a second because he seems to rather quickly decide against it, letting his hand land in his lap.

He doesn’t think you notice, but you do and it stings, just a little. 

Despite the awkwardness that lingers now and again between you and Chan over the next week, he still insists on taking care of you. He ignores your protests for the first two days, so you end up just giving in. You let him do any simple lifting around the apartment, even going as far as to carry your food for you at mealtimes. He’s already been doing a lot of small favors and nice things for you, but he does it even more as your wrist heals. It’s both overwhelming and the most flattering thing anyone has ever done for you.

It’s not helping your emotional battle with your feelings for him in the slightest, but you’re ready to give up and accept it. You’re not sure if he feels the same or not. He was the first to initiate what you truly thought was about to be a kiss at the skating rink, but since that failed spectacularly, you feel like he’s also pulling away a little bit. To you, your relationship has only deepened since you moved in and you two were becoming closer and closer. Now though, even though he practically waits on you hand and foot, he still does it in the most platonic way possible, if that’s even possible. So, feelings you harbor for him aside, you’re stuck holding them to yourself in a vice grip.

Working with your wrist sprained is annoying, to say the least. Your role involves computer and phone usage which isn’t impossible, it just makes you a little slower at doing your day to day since everything has to be done with one hand.

When you hit the middle of your second week in the brace, you feel like your wrist will heal closer to the two weeks. That means that if you’re lucky, you only have three days left to suffer in the brace. You wonder if that means things between you and Chan will continue to change even further, but do your best to fight the spiral you’re about to go on. You’re just happy work is done for the day and you can relax.

“Sol!” When you walk into the apartment it’s the first thing you yell out, waiting for your brother to answer.

“Yeah?”

“Did I get a package today?!” Your very first set of business cards that your boss ordered for you a few weeks ago were supposed to arrive today. Hansol stayed home due to a stomach bug, so he was responsible for getting the mail. It wasn’t anything particularly fun, but you were still excited for your own business cards nonetheless.

“That depends; did you pick up the medicine I asked you to get?” He calls back. You roll your eyes as you kick your shoes off and gently remove your crossbody bag. 

“And what if I said I didn’t? What’re you gonna do? Hold my package for ransom in your room?”

“Maybe. Or I hid it somewhere in the apartment and now you have to play hide and seek for it.” He chuckles.

“Hansol Vernon Chwe, if you don’t give me my mail, I will literally take your Game Boy and shove it up my - oh.” Your threat to Hansol vanishes the second you turn the corner into the living room and see a man on your couch that you don’t know. A handsome man at that. 

A very handsome man.

“What was that?” Your brother teases you, seeing the way you blink back wordlessly at his friend.

“Nothing, shut up. Here’s your medicine, nerd.” You snap out of it and toss the paper bag at your brother on the couch. 

“Thanks. Your package is in your room on your desk.” 

“Thanks,” you nod, your eyes shifting back to the man on the couch who’s just been smiling politely at you since you entered, chuckling at your sibling spat.

“This is Joshua, by the way.” Hansol finally says, gesturing to the man next to him. “Josh, this is my sister I told you about.”

“Yeah, I remember her. Hey, Y/n,” Joshua waves at you, his smile lowering but you still notice the way the corners of his lips quirk.

“You remember me?” You ask as you try and wrack your brain for any Joshuas from your past. “Oh! Joshua Hong?!” The minute you remember him, you’re even more shocked at how good looking he is. The once lanky, awkward looking transfer student that your brother befriended in his first year of high school even though Joshua is older than him, is now so much different. He’s filled out more, the t-shirt he’s wearing hugging his torso in the most distracting way possible. His jaw is defined, his hair longer and a soft shade of reddish-brown. He looks like a completely different person in your eyes.

What the fuck is going on with all of your brother’s friends? Why were they all suddenly so goddamn hot?!

“That’s me. It’s been a while, huh?”

“I mean yeah, try almost a decade?” You sit on the couch on the other side of Hansol to catch up. “What have you been up to?”

“Oh, nothing much. I’m finishing my last year of school. I’m getting my bachelor of medicine right now.”

“You’re going to be a doctor?!” You’re surprised, to say the least. From your memory, you can’t remember Joshua being interested in the medical field, but at the same time, you didn’t really know Joshua well enough to recall too much about him.

He lets out a sheepish laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah. I’ll be doing pediatrics. I didn’t anticipate that I’d get into pediatric medicine initially, it’s just what I fell into and I love it.” God, he’s incredibly fine and he’s going to be a doctor? You’ve completely forgotten what you were planning on doing when you get home. 

The front door opens then, Chan arriving home from work too. When he comes into the living room he freezes, surprised at the third person on the couch.

“Shua hyung?” 

“Hey, Chan!” 

“What’re you doing here?”

“Ah, my apartment building is being exterminated and I need to be out for two days and Hansol  is gracious enough to let me crash on your couch till it’s done.”

Chan nods, not minding too much until his eyes flicker to you. He immediately notices the way you look at Joshua. He looks at you enough to know most of your facial expressions and the way your eyes inspect Joshua makes it clear you’re looking at him in the complete opposite of a platonic way.

Chan feels something unpleasant stirring in the pit of his stomach that he can’t shake.

It turns out Joshua is much more than just a doctor-to-be with a pretty face the more you talk with him. It should’ve been a little more awkward getting to know him, but it really wasn’t. You have a lot in common and he’s incredibly interesting and charming. He’s easier to get along with than you had anticipated. The two of you end up spending time together while he’s staying over and he also insists on helping you when he can even though, as you remind all of the men in the house, it’s just a minor wrist sprain.

You are lucky that he’s studying medicine because he inspects your wrist while he’s staying with you and reaffirms what the doctor at the hospital said. It’s not that serious and you should be free by the end of the week. Joshua’s hands are so much bigger than yours and they’re so very warm. The way he cradles your injured wrist is delicate and he handles you like the smallest flower. His sweet gestures make you feel warm all over anytime he says something kind to you or helps you.

He’s only on your couch for two days, but it’s long enough that you’re drawn to him. It helps that he is probably one of the most gorgeous men you’ve ever seen, but his personality makes him almost too good to be true. Or you’re just incredibly desperate for someone to give you attention since it seems like Chan has taken a step back from being your nurse or growing closer to you. It hurts a bit, but having Joshua around feels nice and makes you feel a little more cared for.

When it’s the day that Joshua is supposed to be leaving, you both get back from work at the same time. You chat with him while he puts the pillowcase and blanket he used in the laundry and goes into the bathroom to make sure he’s packed all of his toiletries. 

As you walk him to the door he thanks you again for letting him stay. Before he leaves though, he stops and takes a few seconds before turning back to you, surprising you.

“Hey, Y/n, I know this will seem completely out of nowhere, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but would you let me take you out sometime?”

You blink back at him, mouth opening into a surprised ‘o.’ 

“No pressure of course! And I won’t be upset if you say no. You’ve only really been getting to know me for two days, so I wouldn’t blame you at all if it’s a no.”

Even though Joshua seems like an absolute gentleman and has been nothing but nice to you, you still can’t help but pause. Your track record with dating has historically not been very good. Hell, even your last attempt at a hookup failed miserably. Plus, Joshua is another one of your brother’s friends. He’s only a couple of years younger than you, and sure, he doesn’t live with you, but you’d hate to be the reason that any of Hansol’s friendships get ruined.

“Joshua, you’re really sweet, but I’m Hansol’s older sister. I don’t know how he’d feel about that.”

“Okay, that’s a very fair hesitation, but if it helps, I asked Hansol this morning if I could ask you out and he said, and I quote, ‘Sure, whatever. Just make sure you don’t hurt her or I’ll tell Seungcheol.’” Joshua laughs, shrugging at you. You recognize that name as being Hansol’s oldest friend. You didn’t talk much when you were in school, but you remember him being mildly popular and feared by many. 

You return his laugh and can’t help but wonder if Hansol would feel the same if you and Chan dated.

Shaking your head, you brush the thought away. One date can’t hurt - it’s not like Joshua is asking you to be his girlfriend. You and Chan are still in an odd place right now anyway. You’re not really sure how to gauge him right now, and he isn’t making any moves to change that. Sure you don’t know Joshua very well but that’s what dates are for right? 

“Okay,” you finally say. “But after I get this stupid brace off. I will see my doctor tomorrow afternoon and I should get an all clear.”

The smile Joshua gives you is lethal and makes your palms sweaty. “Of course. After you take your brace off. I’d want you to be feeling completely better so you can enjoy yourself.” His words make your face heat up, suddenly feeling shy. “What do you say I pick you up tomorrow at six?”

“Sure, that works for me.”

“It’s a date then,” Joshua offers you one more look before he’s out the door and on his way.

Once he’s gone, you bring your hands to your cheeks, cursing yourself for getting so flustered around a guy you barely know, no matter how perfect he looks. To get your mind off of Joshua, you shower and get ready for the evening before deciding you’ll order a pizza and call Jinah to tell her about your date tomorrow.

“So how’s it going with Y/n?” Soonyoung asks Chan as they clean up and prepare to lock up the dance studio at the end of the day.

“It’s…going I guess.” 

“I assume this means it’s going absolutely nowhere?” Chan narrows his eyes at Soonyoung, ignoring the way his friend laughs at him.

“It was going somewhere. And then I made her break her wrist and now everything is weird.”

“Oh yeah I remember you said that, but you also said that she was about to reciprocate when you almost kissed, was she not?” 

“I mean, yeah I think so, but she’s also been flirting with Joshua since he got here and he’s definitely been flirting back. What if I’m wrong and she wasn’t actually going to kiss me back?”

Soonyoung lets out a sigh behind Chan, watching as his younger friend visibly agonizes over his thoughts and self-doubt. 

“Chan, listen, I’m going to be honest with you okay?”

“Why am I worried…”

“Because I’m about to tell you the truth!” Soonyoung waits for Chan to lock the studio door and turns to look at him. “You need to decide what you want to do. Either you’ll keep doing this weird will-they-won’t-they with her and not tell her how you feel and probably stress over her for the rest of your life or you tell her and see what happens. I know you’re worried about what she’ll say or how she’ll react, but is that better or worse than letting this eat you up forever?”

Chan scoffs, both options are terrible and he hates them equally, but at the same time, he really has to decide. Either option makes him uncomfortable and unhappy, but Soonyoung has a point, he’s just not sure which is the lesser of the two evils.

“I don’t know…”

“Well, I think you should think about it again and figure it out. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with flirting unless she actually becomes his girlfriend or something, right?”

Chan mumbles something that even he finds unintelligible, but Soonyoung doesn’t press him to repeat himself. They walk the short distance to the parking lot on the side of the studio and bid each other goodbye, Soonyoung wishing him luck again.

Chan spends the entire drive home in silence, weighing the pros and cons of telling you how he feels versus not telling you. He’s had this internal battle with himself since you moved in and it’s always the same in each category. 

You may hate him. He’ll make living with you awkward. He’ll fuck up his friendship with Hansol.

All the same negative scenarios play on repeat. The only pro (and the biggest, to be clear), would be that you feel the same for him or you’ll at least want to give him a chance. For Chan, it comes down to how much of a risk he wants to take here.

He’s not much of a risk taker usually, but he also can’t help but tell himself that you’re more than worth the risk. If he can get over his fear of the cons that is.

Chan is still deep in thought when he gets home. When he walks into the apartment, he can hear you talking in your room. The dock for the cordless phone sits empty on the side table next to the couch which tells him you’re using it. 

He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, truly he doesn’t, but as he’s walking down the hall to his room, he overhears you mention Joshua’s name and the word ‘date.’ Chan freezes in his tracks, his heart beating rapidly at the implication. He knows he should go into his room and wait until you’re done to ask what the plan for dinner is. 

Instead, he tiptoes to your room, the door ajar enough for him to listen without being seen.

“I’m not sure where he’s taking me. He didn’t say and I didn’t ask. I want to be surprised.” You chuckle and there’s a beat of silence as the person, who Chan assumes is Jinah, speaks. “I’m telling you, he looks so different now. Like, fuck I can’t even describe how good looking he is! And hello, he’s going to be a doctor!” More silence. “I mean, let’s not get crazy. We’re not eloping or anything, it’s just one date.” You stop talking before breaking out into a fit of laughter.

Chan takes this as his sign to slink away, trudging to his bedroom to wallow. He tries to remind himself that you don’t even know how he feels, he’s never even told you about his feelings, so what right does he have to be upset about this?

Absolutely none, logically speaking. That doesn’t make the twinge of pain in his chest feel any more bearable.

It’s ten minutes to six when you’re putting the finishing touches on your hair and fastening your jewelry. You called Joshua earlier in the day to let him know that your doctor gave you the okay to take off your brace and that your wrist is feeling much better. You also asked if you should wear anything special for tonight. He advised that you didn’t need anything fancy, just whatever makes you feel good and some comfortable shoes. To be safe, you were going with thermal leggings and a nice sweater to stay warm and comfy.

With your bag and boots in hand, you leave your room and head down the hallway, intending to wait in the living room. The apartment is quiet with Hansol out for the night and Chan presumably in his room. You haven’t seen him much since he got home from work last night. He took his pizza into his room to eat it and you only saw him briefly this morning when he was coming back from the gym. You want to ask him if he’s okay, but you can’t seem to get a moment with him to do so. 

As you reach the end of the hallway, Chan rounds the corner suddenly and you both let out a yelp, running into each other.

“Shit, sorry!” Chan steadies you when your shoes and bag fall out of your hand along with the book that had been in his. He quickly bends down to pick up your things and gingerly hands them over to you.

“Thanks,” you smile at him, forcing your eyes up to his face and not down to the black tank top that hugs his torso.

“Of course,” Chan smiles back, neither of you moving. He’s blocking the entryway into the living room, you tell yourself, so he has to move first.

He doesn’t and instead looks above your head, chuckling nervously. 

“Huh?” You look up and catch sight of the mistletoe hanging above your heads. Who the fuck even put that there?

The two of you look from the mistletoe to each other, and then back up again. 

“You don’t have to,” Chan starts, his neck turning a deep shade of red.

“I - I mean you neither, if you don’t want to. But if you do, since you know it’s tradition or whatever, we can. Only if you want!” You’re stammering at this point, hand gripping the strap of your bag so hard your knuckles hurt. 

Your mind goes back to the ice skating rink and the moment the two of you shared. Chan’s reaction now might just reaffirm your thoughts from that day, but you try not to get too emotionally attached as you wait for his next words.

He doesn’t say anything, and instead, he answers with his movements. He looks into your eyes, so intensely you feel yourself squirm under his gaze. He starts to lean forward then, his face coming closer and closer to yours. 

There’s your answer.

Nothing comes from the moment though, when the doorbell rings, making both you and Chan spring apart with wide eyes. Clearing your throat, you apologize to Chan as you shuffle past him and into the living room. 

“One minute!” You call out to the door, assuming it’s Joshua. You fish your compact out of your bag to give yourself one more once over before you rush to the door and sure enough, you see Joshua through the peephole.

“Hi. You look beautiful,” are the first words out of his mouth when he sees you, eyes sweeping over your frame appreciatively.

“Thank you. You look very handsome. And are those for me?” You gesture to the large bouquet in his hands and accept it when he holds it out to you.

“Thank you. And yes they are. I couldn’t just show up empty handed.” You thank him again and step back into the apartment to find somewhere to put your flowers. Chan is gone when you enter the living room again and you don’t see him as you find a vase in the kitchen and fill it with water, placing the bouquet in them before joining Joshua again and leaving with him.

Your date with Joshua is as normal as a date can get, but you don’t mind one bit. As he drives you to your destination, you fall into easy conversation as you ask him about his job. Right now, he’s working at his friend’s office until he’s done with school. Since he’s still getting his degree, he can’t legally do much medical wise, but he does volunteer at the hospital when he can to visit the kids and keep them company between surgeries and procedures. 

He tells you stories from the hospital and you can tell just in the way he talks about the patients he’s spent time with that it’s something he really enjoys and is looking forward to doing full time. It’s admirable to see someone so in love with what they do and recall it in such a positive way. You know that when you recount stories from your time in the air and in different countries, it’s always with bittersweet words. There was so much you loved about being a flight attendant and so much you disliked, but Joshua talks about medicine with nothing but love. 

Similar to how Chan speaks about dancing. 

You push that thought away as soon as it conjures in your brain, refocusing back on your date.

Joshua takes you to a fancy looking Japanese restaurant and does everything right that you would expect. He makes sure to open your car door for you and the door of the restaurant. He pulls out your chair and tells you to order whatever you want, making it clear that he’ll be paying and brushing you off when you try to convince him to split the bill. 

“Okay, Doctor Hong, you win. You’re more stubborn than me,” you joke after you both order.

He laughs, shrugging and making eye contact with you. “I asked you out, so I’ll pay. Simple as that. Maybe next time you can arrange the next date and you can pay.” 

The idea of another date with Joshua hadn’t even crossed your mind. You’re comfortable with him and are enjoying talking with him and getting to know him more, but you feel like there’s something missing that you can’t quite put your finger on. 

That feeling persists during dinner, even through the shared laughter and the jokes and it sticks when you’re back in the car after dessert. It lingers as you chat on the way to the second, secret destination he has on the itinerary.

When Joshua eventually parks on the curb of a neighborhood you don’t recognize, you see a bunch of other cars parked and can see bright lights in the distance.

“Where exactly are we?” You try to read street signs around but don’t recognize them. Joshua offers his hand as he opens your door and you hesitantly take it, letting him escort you out. He doesn’t let your hand go as you walk down the sidewalk and get closer to all of the lights.

“I know you’re really into Christmas and decorations so I wanted to take you here,” As you walk closer to the lights, you finally start to notice that they’re Christmas decorations. It’s a whole street of houses adorned with bright lights and flashy decorations. “There aren’t too many people who go all out with the decorations here, but I happened upon this street when I got lost once and they do this every year. It reminds me of the way people back home in L.A. decorate their houses for the holidays.”

You nod, eyes taking in a house with sparking blue and white lights wrapped around every inch of their house. “Yeah, whenever we had layovers or rest periods in the U.S. for the holidays it was nice to see all the decorations out there. It’s why I made Hansol and Chan decorate the apartment. It makes the holidays feel more fun for me.” You laugh, sticking the hand not in Joshua’s in your coat pocket. “I don’t know, maybe that’s silly.”

“It’s not,” he insists, squeezing your hand. “I think it’s very cute and sweet.” Looking over at him out of the corner of your eye, he smiles warmly at you. Joshua is so good at making you flustered it’s almost illegal.

You keep your hand in his as you walk down the sidewalk, pointing out different decorations and your favorite houses. There are other people around you taking in the decorations, all other couples from what you can see. There’s one house that you get to towards the end of the street that’s the most dramatic looking of all. Twinkling, multicolored lights cover the house and an army of snowmen litter the yard, all draped in winter clothes with lights on them as accessories. Various blow-up decorations dot the yard, one of them even playing instrumental versions of classic Christmas carols. Paired with the December snow on the ground, the yard resembles a true winter wonderland and for a moment, you just focus on that and not the fact that your brain keeps wanting you to imagine taking all of this in with Chan.

You’re so focused on the wonder in front of you that you don’t notice the way Joshua admires your profile, smiling at the way your eyes sparkle as you admire the lights and decorations. Joshua takes the moment, turning to you and placing his fingers under your chin to turn your head towards him. The gesture catches you off guard, as does the kiss he leans down to place on your lips.

Joshua’s lips are plush against yours and so incredibly soft. He almost doesn’t feel real. His lips move against yours and you reciprocate, but that earlier, nagging feeling you’ve had since the restaurant comes back. The insistence that something here is missing and it’s even louder now that Joshua is kissing you. It’s especially hard to enjoy kissing him when your mind only wants to focus on your second almost-kiss with Chan earlier. You yearn so badly to feel his lips on yours and daydream about if they feel as soft as they look. You also can’t help but wonder if kissing Chan would make you feel things like fireworks. That consideration alone makes you notice the severe lack of them now. Guilt occupies your mind along with your thoughts of Chan and you notice just how little you feel from kissing Joshua.

As if he feels it too, he pulls away slowly, eyes immediately scanning your face. 

“Are you okay, Y/n?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” 

“It’s just that, well I mean, you’ve seemed like your mind is only half here all night. I could feel it just now. Did I do something? I should’ve asked you before kissing you, I’m sorry.”

“No! No, Joshua it’s fine! You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise! You’re a great kisser anyway,” you mumble the last part, truly meaning it. Joshua chuckles and thanks you, but his expression gets serious again.

“I appreciate that and you are too, but I still feel like something is wrong.” He stares at you as if trying to read your mind and it makes you feel shy. 

“It’s just…fuck, listen, Joshua, I have had a lot of fun tonight, okay? You’re easy to talk to and laugh with and I like hanging out with you, but I think maybe…there’s a spark between us that’s missing? I’m really sorry.” You gnaw on your bottom lip as you get your words out, worrying about how he’ll react.

Thankfully, he doesn’t make any indication that he’s upset at you. Instead, Joshua just nods and if anything, looks a little disappointed. 

“Thank you for being honest with me. I’ve had a really fun time too. Even though I do genuinely like you, I’m not going to try and make you return my feelings. If you’re okay with it, I’d like to at least stay friends? I promise I can get over my crush.”

“Are you sure? I feel bad that I had you take me out like this and it was for nothing.”

“Hey, it wasn’t for nothing! I’m a little disappointed we can’t be more, but I still got to know you more. I mean it when I say let’s stay friends. It’s comfortable and nice hanging out with you. I promise I won’t make this weird. If you’re okay with it. Otherwise, when I take you home, I’ll drop you off and fuck off forever.”

You huff out a laugh, mostly in relief at how normal he’s taking your lack of interest. You study him for a moment, sincerity is easy to read in his expression.

Your shoulders relax as you nod, telling Joshua that you’ll gladly still be friends. This seems to put him at ease as well, letting out a sigh of relief. In your friendship travels, finding a dependable guy friend has been near impossible, so the idea of finally finding one means you can't just let the friendship slip away. You did genuinely enjoy spending time with him too.

You and Joshua finish the walk and any awkwardness you felt when the night started leaves now that the air is a bit clearer. Joshua doesn’t hold your hand, but he stays close and you appreciate that he genuinely meant he didn’t want you to feel weird around him.

After going around the block and taking a few selfies together (at Joshua’s request), you walk back to his car and he still holds the door open for you.

“What? Just because we’re friends this is still a date right?” He shoots you a smirk and you roll your eyes but laugh, nodding at his words. “Exactly. Now let’s get you home.”

Once back in the car, Joshua turns up the heat, both of you thawing as he starts the drive back to your apartment building.

At one point in your chatter as he takes you home, you compliment his gentlemanly behavior all night, telling him it’s honestly some of the most you’ve been wooed out of most other guys you’ve been with. Joshua frowns, citing how fucked up that is and how much guys fucking suck. You can’t help but laugh, noting that his level-headedness just adds to the fact that he’s the perfect guy for most women.

You voice this, adding: “If you’re still looking for someone special, my best friend just might fall in love with you if she meets you.” Joshua laughs, shooting you a brief look that you catch. “Yeah okay. I’ll tell her about you and let you know what she says.” You giggle.

“Sorry!” He winces, regretting his obvious expression. “Was that weird? Did I make it weird?”

“No, no! I don’t mind! I do think you’re a great guy and I love her and want her to be with a great guy. I don’t have a problem with you two going out. I’m just a little relieved to know you wanna talk to someone else so quickly. Makes me feel less bad about everything.”

“Hey, for real, don’t feel bad! I told you I’m going to be okay.”

“Ugh I know, I just feel bad because you paid for that fancy sushi and walked out in the cold and I’m curbing you.”

“Y/n, I’m not going to go home and write in my journal that you broke my heart. It was just a date, okay?” 

Sighing, you finally accept his answer, deciding to let it drop, but still let him know you’re going to talk to Jinah about him. 

“If you guys do go out and fall in love, try not to treat me like a third wheel, yeah?”

Chuckling, Joshua rolls his eyes at you as the car rolls to a stop at a red light. “She doesn’t even know my name yet, Y/n.”

“Yeah well, what I said still stands.”

“Whatever you say.” 

“Yes, thank you.” 

“Mmhmm.” Joshua shakes his head at you and your triumphant sounding rebuttal. “Just make sure you don’t forget about your friends whenever you find someone.” 

Frowning, you shake your head. “Oh, absolutely not. I’ve never even entertained abandoning my friends for a relationship. I’ll divide my time evenly between you guys and Ch-” Your lips clamp together like your mouth has been sewn shut, halting your words immediately.

Unfortunately, Joshua catches it, his eyebrows raising so high they almost disappear into his hairline. “Us and who?”

“No one.”

“That's obviously a lie. You were totally about to say someone’s name.”

“Huh? What makes you think that?”

You hit another red light and Joshua fixes you with a blank expression. “Really? You’re not gonna tell me?”

“Hey, this is still a date, remember?! What kind of date would I be if I talked about another guy?”

Joshua narrows his eyes once more before focusing back on the road as he accelerates and drops it, a suspicious look still on his face. You steer the conversation back to Joshua, getting him to tell you about his family back home a little more. He surely knows you’re deflecting but he doesn’t press you further. 

The conversation leads you right to a parking spot in your complex near the building entrance. Joshua, ever the gentleman, opens your door for you and walks you inside.

When reaching the third floor, Joshua walks you to the door. He pulls you into a hug, saying again that he had a good time hanging out with you regardless of the outcome. He says that he’ll look forward to your call about Jinah and about hanging out again soon. 

Things with Joshua may not have gone as intended, but you’re grateful that he’s understanding and not mad at the fact that you ended up not being interested.

“I will, promise. Get home safe!”

“I will. Have a good night.” He waves at you as he starts to go, but turns quickly to look at you with a glint in his eyes. “And good luck with Chan.” He caps his sentence off with a wink and the moment leaves you flabbergasted. Did he just say Chan?!

“I - what about Chan?!” You can only hope you don’t look as panicked as you feel. Joshua doesn’t address your question, or what he said as he gets to the elevator, offering you a final wave and laughing as the door closes.

How the hell did he know that’s who you were talking about? You’ve never done anything to make someone think you like Chan, but clearly the response lets you know that maybe you’re not as good at hiding your feelings as you thought you were. Has Chan noticed anything from you that would clue him in on your feelings for him being more than platonic? If so, you can only hope Hansol has been too… Hansol to notice it himself.

Chan’s lost count of how many times he’s paced the living room. He keeps trying to sit or do something else other than obsess over you, but nothing seems to be working. All he can think about is you out on a date, having fun, and developing feelings for someone other than him. He even called out of work tonight, telling Soonyoung he wasn’t feeling well. It wasn’t a complete lie. 

Seeing the way Joshua just swept in after so long and snatched you up, just-like-that, legitimately made his head and stomach hurt. Chan knows for sure he is absolutely in love with you and the other almost-kiss he nearly shared with you proves it. He still didn’t recall where the mistletoe came from, but because of it, even if it wasn’t the proper result, he’s not exactly complaining. Well, not about the fact that you very clearly almost kissed him back.

He just feels like an idiot because he let you leave and is watching you slip away from him again and this time it’s to one of his friends. A friend that has more guts than him to step up and ask you out and tell you that he’s into you.

Chan hasn’t been brave enough to approach you and finally, finally try asking you out. The time when he was fourteen didn’t count because he was still a kid and you never saw him as anything other than your little brother’s annoying best friend that followed you around. Of course, you wouldn't have ever gone out with him. 

But it’s different now. You’re both adults and you’re closer than that already. You seem to actually enjoy spending time with Chan and being around him for the first time in the entire time that he has known you and maybe, just maybe, he’d have a real chance with you. 

His own cowardice stopped him from speaking up and allowed his older, much more confident hyung to do what he’s been too afraid to. It fucking sucked.

After you left, the only thing he’s done is stay up and stare at the TV, jealousy chipping away at him. Jealous that Joshua got to you before he could do it. Jealousy eats him up so much that he can’t feel relaxed no matter what he does. So, the only thing he thinks to do is sit up and wait for you.

As you enter the apartment, you expect the room to be dark, but you’re surprised to instead see Chan pacing around the living room with the TV playing a commercial.

When he turns upon hearing the door, you both freeze, his expression reading a deer in headlights. 

“Y/n.”

“Chan?”

“Y/n, you’re here.”

“Yeah, I’m here. Are you okay?”

His eyes are wide as he watches you slip your shoes off. 

“Y/n,” he rushes over to you, grabbing your hands when you step into the room. The gesture is the most contact you’ve had in a week and it lights up all of your senses. He guides you into the room, but the two of you stay standing. “I have some stuff I want to say, okay? It might sound weird and you might hate me and I might fuck up everything, but I’m going to explode if I keep this to myself anymore.”

“Okay…” Your hesitance is obvious, but you don’t walk away to take your hands out of his hold, so he takes this as a sign to continue.

“I, fuck I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to say it, but Y/n, the truth is that I’m still in love with you. It’s different from when I was a dumb kid. That was me being captivated by my best friend’s big sister who was so much cooler and more mature than me and was the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. When you left for college and your career, it hurt, but I told myself to get over it. That it was just my first crush and first crushes eventually go away.

And I thought that was true until you moved back and I realized, ‘oh shit, I’m still into her,’ only now it’s worse because I got to know you, like really know you, and realized that you’re still that intelligent, mature, amazing girl, but now you’re a woman and you’re still the woman of my dreams. I’ve been trying so hard to show you that I still care for you without actually saying it because I was worried that you’d turn me down and I didn’t know if I could handle that, but seeing you go out with Joshua and potentially slip away from me for good again has been killing me all night and I can’t hold back anymore. 

If you don’t like me back that is completely okay! I know Joshua hyung is handsome and smart and he’s going to be a doctor so like whatever, yeah I get it. I won’t make living with you weird at all! I’ll even steer clear of certain areas when you’re around if that makes you feel better. Just, you know, whatever you want. But okay, I’m done. Too many words.”

Chan wants the floor to open up right at this moment and swallow him given the way you’re looking at him. Wide-eyed and mouth in a firm line as you absorb his words.

“Dammit, Chan!”

“What?! Sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry I suck I-”

“Huh? No! I didn’t mean it like that! I said that because, well, I think that you succeeded in showing me how much you care for me because I’ve fallen for you over the past three months.” Chan’s eyes widen almost comically, but he doesn’t say anything. “ I tried to fight it given one, you’re my brother’s best friend, two we live together, and three, you’re younger than me and four, I just didn’t want to make things weird with all of us living together, but knowing you like me just makes me want to stop being so cautious.”

“Really?”

“Really. Spending time with you and getting to know you has only made me like you more. Being around you, spending time with you, talking with you, everything just feels so right when we’re together. It’s scary because I have never felt like this, but I want it. I want you, Chan. In every sense of the word.”

The shell shocked man across from you has to let your words sit in his brain for a bit before he fully registers what you’ve said. You like him too. You’ve fallen for him. Being with him feels right. You want him. 

If this is a cruel dream, Chan would really appreciate it if he could wake up right now. He closes his eyes tightly, counting to three before opening again. Sure enough, you’re still standing in front of him, looking at him with expectant eyes, anticipating his next words.

“Sorry, I’m just letting this all sink in. I don’t think I thought you’d actually say you feel the same.”

You shrug, shooting him a small smile. “Me neither honestly. I thought for sure you had gotten over your crush on me and moved on to actual women who returned your feelings.”

“Me too, at first I mean. But like I said, just seeing you again had all of those feelings rushing back to me.” 

“Well I’m extremely lucky then it seems.”

“So am I.” You both stand there, grinning at each other, unsure what to do next. You think about maybe kissing Chan, finally, but you wonder if that’s too fast and too presumptuous of you.

As if he can read your mind, Chan clears his throat, making eye contact for a few seconds before looking away and taking a breath.

“Y/n, can I kiss you?” He blurts out, but you still hear him.

“Please do!” You answer immediately, encouraged by the knowledge that he wants the same as you.

Chan doesn’t need to be told twice, immediately rushing over to you before you have too much time to think. Your back hits the wall in an effort to keep your weak knees from giving out. When Chan stops, right in front of you, you’re almost chest to chest. He’s so close that you feel the warmth that radiates from him.

His arm rests above your head, keeping you trapped, but leaving his other arm down, allowing you a way out if you wanted. Neither of you speak for a moment, both blinking at the other. You each need to decide what will happen next. 

You both make that decision at the exact same time. Chan’s eyes stay locked on yours as he lowers his face. At the same time, your eyes flutter closed as you crane your neck up, allowing your lips to meet somewhere in the middle.

Your lips are still a little cold, Chan notes as your arms reach out in the tiny space between the two of you, and grasp the front of his t-shirt to pull him close, his body pressing you completely against the wall. He squeezes his eyes closed hard enough to hurt a few times in an effort to wake himself up from the dream that he feels like he’s having. He’s had more dreams than he can count about kissing you for as long as he can remember, so surely this is another one of those? 

That thought is only sent away when your arms slip up his body and around his neck, fingers weaving into the sensitive hairs on the back of his neck and tugging. The action is like lightning through his body and helps keep him in the very real moment.

Kissing Chan feels the way that you think they describe in movies. They always describe it as feeling like the world around you fades away in a haze and your head feels fuzzy. All of the sounds you hear are like white noise or turn into muffled background noise. It’s cliché and something you don’t think you’ve ever felt until this moment. Kissing Chan feels right and you don’t think you ever want to kiss anyone else for a long time, if ever again.

His strong arms wrap around your waist as you melt into him, your lips moving together in perfect sync. Your hands move down to his biceps to steady yourself, fingers wrapping around as much of him as you can, which isn’t much but you try.

You stay like that longer than you think you can count. Both of you clinging to one another, making out against the wall like lovestruck, horny teenagers, even if that’s exactly what you feel like. Your heart hammers against your chest and your thighs squeeze together as the kiss ignites not only something in your chest, but in your panties too. 

The kiss turns from soft and sentimental to heated quicker than either of you are brave enough to admit, but you’re not complaining. You’ve wanted each other for months (years for Chan) and are finally getting what you’ve dreamt of. Chan’s thick, muscled thigh wedges its way between yours. Your leggings may have been thick enough to avoid the cold, but they aren’t thick enough to keep you away from feeling him brush against your tender folds.

What sounds like a whimper slips out of you and gets swept away by Chan’s tongue and into his mouth. He swallows down sound after sound as he makes sure to nudge your pussy again and again and soon enough, you’re grinding down on him, sloppily riding his thigh as his lips stay connected to yours.

When you finally pull away, the first sound out of your mouth is a deep moan. Chan flexes his thigh in a way that tenses the muscles and he hits your clothed clit in the most delicious way.

“Fuck,” Chan pants as he holds your hips. His knee rests between your legs and against the wall to stay steady. You grind over Chan’s sweatpants again and with each sweet sound that slips out of your mouth, he feels himself getting painfully harder.

“Ch-Chan,” you manage out.

“Hmm?”

“I need more.”

“More? More what, baby girl?” 

The pet name rolls off his tongue so easily, too easily, and your pussy throbs even harder. Riding his thigh feels fucking amazing and you know you can cum just like this, but you don’t want to just yet. You’d much rather cum around his cock. The playful part of you also wants him to be just as needy as you.

“More of you. Please, baby,” You lean up to place kisses on his neck. When you get to his jawline, you flatten your tongue right on the side of his chin, dragging it up his jaw, and landing on his ear lobe. Chan makes the prettiest, breathy whines as you tease him and it only makes you clench even more. When you stop and your teeth nibble on the shell of his ear, capping it off with a whisper of, “Please Channie,” Chan feels like he could explode, right then and there.

“Anything. Fucking anything for you” Chan mumbles his words before diving down to lavish your neck in kisses of his own, the tip of his tongue darting out occasionally to lap at your skin. He leaves sloppy kisses on your skin as he descends down to your chest, stopping briefly where your nipples sit behind layers of clothes. 

He drops to his knees as he goes and doesn’t stop until he reaches your waist. 

“Chan?” You’re surprised that this is how he wants you first. You expected him to finger you before anything, but he clearly wants to start elsewhere.

His hands move to grasp at your waistband, stopping before he actually undresses you. His eyes meet yours, fingertips meeting your bare skin underneath your sweater. 

“Can I? I need to get my mouth on you so badly.”

“Fuck, yes. You better,” you demand in response, not even flinching at his request. The two of you easily slip your leggings and your panties down and off of you in one go. 

Chan lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, pushing your thighs apart. His eyes widen at the sight of you bare and wet in front of him. His mouth waters at the glistening arousal he sees coating your lower lips and he almost gets lightheaded at the heady scent of you. Chan could die right here before even tasting you and even that would be okay with him.

“Chan, please I need you!” You beg, feeling self conscious under his stare. He doesn’t make you wait any longer and instantly dives between your folds, his tongue lapping at you harshly.

Your knees nearly buckle at the suction, a loud cry ringing out. He doesn’t hesitate at all, his tongue immediately plunging into your wet hole. Your head hits the wall with a thunk as Chan begins eating you out as if his life depended on it. He fucks you with his tongue with obvious vigor, his nose bumping into your clit with each turn of his head.

His hands cup your ass, pulling you closer to his face so he can reach deeper in you, damn near making out with your cunt. Chan grunts and groans into you as he slurps, the wet sounds echoing through the room.

“Fuck, Chan. Fuck you’re t-too fucking good,” Your fingers are in his hair again, knotting into his strands to hold his face against you. The action makes him dizzy, his cock painfully hard and begging to be released from the confines of his sweatpants.

When you cum, which isn’t very long from when he started devouring you, you think you almost pass out. Your vision whites out and your body feels like gelatin, almost falling forward. Chan keeps his grip on your ass, not stopping until you start to yank him away from your pussy.

“I am going to pass out if you keep eating me out like that!”

“Fucking hell, Y/n, you have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you,” he’s breathless when he speaks, licking his lips in the most obscene manner. 

“Did I live up to your expectations?” You tease, getting wet all over again as you observe the way his face glistens with your juices and his blown out pupils.

“You have no idea. But we’re not done yet, beautiful.”

Another simple pet name has you shivering and Chan notices, and he loves the way you react to him. He stands upright again and grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together as he leads you to his bedroom. When he gets you in the room he brings you to his bed, pushing you and watching you bounce gently on his quilt. You start to undress what you had left on, keeping your eyes trained on him as you pull your sweater over your head and unhook your bra, tossing it somewhere in the room.

This is just like so many wet dreams he’s had, but this time it’s real life and almost too good to be true.

“You gonna just stand there and ogle me or are you going to get naked and come over here and kiss me?” You tease him, widening your legs to make room for him.

Chan’s eyes are glued to your pussy, still wet and shining for him, and he all but tears his clothes from his body and scrambles onto the bed without another thought.

“Sorry,” he says between kisses. “I was just admiring the goddess waiting for me on my bed,” You’re ready to tease him again, but he cuts you off when he lowers his head and his mouth suctions around one of your nipples, sucking hard enough to make your back bow off of the bed. 

Eager lips lavish over the sensitive bud as his hand finds its way between your legs. He circles your entrance with a finger and repeats the motion a few more times before kissing his way over to your other nipple to give it the same amount of attention.

“So pretty,” he mumbles against your skin. Your fingers tangle in his dark hair as he covers your chest in bites, licks, and kisses, his finger still teasing you.

As if sensing you about to complain, he finally lets your nipple go, kissing his way down your body until he’s face to face with your pussy again.

“Chan…” you sigh, feeling his tongue dart out to lick a stripe from your entrance to your clit. He takes the time to spend extra attention on your nub, stiffening his tongue and flicking at it at what feels like an inhumane speed.

Chan relishes the gorgeous sound of your cries for him, noises of pleasure mixed in with huffs of his name and whispers of curse words. He loves that these sounds are all for him and because of him. He already knew he’d get addicted to you if he ever was able to get you into his bed and this settles that. He needs to hear you like this for him until he passes away. Even then, he wants to be buried with a recording of your moans and whines.

He shifts on his stomach to get closer to your core and plunges his tongue into you, groaning at the taste of you on his tongue again. The angle allows him room to grind against his quilt, pretending that it’s you he’s rutting against. His eyes slip closed as your thighs do the same around his head and he loses himself as he eats you out with a sense of excitement that he doesn’t think he’s ever felt about anything else.

Chan moves as if he didn’t do the same thing not even ten minutes ago and he only serves in pushing you so much closer to the edge faster than the first time. You call this out to him, tugging at his hair and it only spurs him on. He burrows between your legs even further, letting out more determined grunts that you feel throughout your entire body.

“Ch-Chan, fuck, I’m cumming! Right there, right there - I - fuck!” Your hands keep Chan trapped as you let go, legs spasming as he keeps at it, happily lapping up your release that covers his chin.

Out of breath, your body sags against the bed and you pry your legs open to let him up. “Shit, Chan enough. Come up here and fuck me already.”

“Yes ma’am.” His face is covered in you and his use of yes ma’am sends molten heat up your spine and between your legs again.

He leans over to his nightstand to fish out a condom, but you stop him, shaking your head.

“I’m on the pill, just pull out?”

Your words could’ve very well been a spell with the way they make him dizzy, but he doesn’t question it and only breathes out a yes and positions himself between your legs.

“Are you okay? Tell me to stop at any time and I will, okay?” He checks your face to make sure you’re comfortable and when he sees you nod he starts to ease himself into you slowly.

When his bulbous tip slips in first, you’re instantly letting out small mewls that only intensify with each inch that Chan fills you with.

“Oh my fuck, Y/n, you feel incredible. Shit!” Chan grits his teeth as he takes his time entering you. When he’s finally filled you up to the hilt, he has to take a second and take a deep breath. He’s never felt so close to cumming this quickly since he was in high school. It’s embarrassing to admit, but you truly feel like nothing and no one he’s ever felt. Your soft velvet walls cradle him perfectly, clenching every now and again making him even weaker.

“Move, Channie,” you breathe out, lifting your hips a little to get him going. Chan sits up on his knees, wrapping your legs around his waist as he grabs a hold of your hips.

He starts slow as he fucks you, finding a pace that works for him. Once he gets it, which he does rather quickly, he’s relentless. His hips drive into yours at breakneck speed, balls hitting your ass which each thrust forward.

“Fuck, Y/n, baby, you feel like a fucking dream!” His compliment comes out high pitched as he says it, the sound of his hips slapping against yours almost drowning out his words, but you hear him.

“Yeah, fuck, you feel so good Channie. Fucking me so, so good!” Tears collect at the corners of your eyes as Chan bullies into you over and over again, shoving you further up the bed. “You’re such a good boy for m-me, aren’t you?”

Chan’s eyes cross at your praise, biting his lip so hard he nearly draws blood just to keep himself from bursting inside of you at that moment. He nods like a madman, taking deep breaths to push back his orgasm. He’s so terribly close, but he refuses to cum without you.

He pants above you, eyes darting between your fucked out expression with your eyes rolling back and mouth hanging open, your tits that bounce with each force of his body, to between your legs as he catches sight of himself disappearing into your heat. He catches sight of the white ring of arousal you coat around his dick and he feels himself getting closer and closer.

He’s dizzy with lust for you but still manages to check in with you, forcing out coherent words to ask how you’re doing. You reassure him you’re okay, praising him once again about how good he feels.

“H-harder, Channie. Fuck me harder!”

As with anything else Chan does for you, he doesn’t need you to ask twice as he readjusts his knees before leaning forward to bend at the waist, making sure your legs are still secure around his waist. He leans down, his hands on either side of your head as kisses you, the new angle allowing him to thrust into you at a harder pace.

“Just like that, Chan! Fuck me like that!” Your words tumble out of you in a garbled mess, but he hears you loud and clear. The sensation of your nails digging into his back as you hold him closer sends him into a frenzy as he continues his brutal pace. His new position also allows his pelvis to brush against your clit hard enough to send you over the edge all the way.

“I’m - Y/n, I’m so close. I’m -”

“Me too, Channie, me too. Want you to cum. Wanna see you and hear you,” you cry out, each word almost cut off with a moan.

When you cum, your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape and your eyes squeeze shut, stars erupting behind your lids as your body almost convulses underneath him. Your muscles hurt with how hard your body stiffens and your brain only focuses on the drag of Chan’s cock against your hyper-sensitive walls.

The sight alone and your chant of Chan’s name has him cumming next. He pulls out, desperately jerking himself off over you before he panics.

“Wh-where can I?”

“Anywhere, baby! Anywhere you want,” As soon as the last word leaves your lips, Chan yells out your name, his warm seed spurting out and landing on your stomach, some of it even hitting right under your breasts as he milks himself over your body. If you weren’t so tired you’d suck him off to overstimulate him, but for now, you just admire how stunning Chan looks. Skin flushed and chiseled jaw clenched as he empties himself onto your sweaty body.

As he cums, Chan tears up a little because holy shit you’re the best feeling he’s ever felt, and being inside of you is like an out of body experience. He’s no virgin, but this is the first time he’s slept with someone who he has such a strong emotional connection with. It’s the best thing he’s ever experienced in his life, he thinks.

Once he’s released everything he possibly can, Chan rolls off of you and flops next to your spent body. 

“Holy shit,” you mumble, taking a deep breath. “I think my soul has officially left the building.”

“Oh, I know mine is gone. It was gone the moment you let me kiss you.” Giggling, you glance over at Chan who’s already looking at you.

“I’ll always let you kiss me now. How can I not?” Chan grins wide enough at you that you think his mouth should probably hurt. The thought makes you breathe out a laugh.

Chan tilts his head at you. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Just admiring how cute you are,” As if not expecting that answer, Chan gets a little shy, eyes looking away from you as you see the tips of his ears reddening. You can’t help but lean up and place a kiss on his ear and he jumps at the light peck. “Come on, cutie. Let’s get cleaned up and ready for bed. You can sleep in my room tonight and we’ll wash your sheets tomorrow. Sound good?” 

Chan nods so aggressively, that you almost question how his neck is feeling. He reaches for his tissues on the side table and wipes the cooling cum from your body. He then helps you up from the bed and tosses you one of his towels, wrapping one around his waist. 

When you have the towel covering yourself, you both step into the hallway only to freeze when seeing Hansol coming down the hall, and he stops too. He takes notice of the two of you, standing there holding towels over yourselves, and lets out a laugh. He takes his headphones off and lets them drape about his neck, the sound of “All the Small Things” filling the silence between the three of you.

“I take it the mistletoe worked?”

You and Chan share an incredulous look before turning back to your brother.

“You put the mistletoe up?!” You gasp. You had just accepted the fact that you put it up and forgot, but it’s nice to know you aren't going completely insane.

“Well, it was Soonyoung’s idea. He called earlier and told me to put it up somewhere both of you would end up. I wasn’t sure at first, but it looks like it worked.”

“I mean…kind of. But I have so many questions.”

“Ask them later. I’ve been home for a little while but didn’t wanna come into the hallway and uh, interrupt.” Hansol frowns and continues on to his room. Your brother halts his steps before going in and fixes you both with a look. “Oh, and I only have two things to say. One, Chan, if you hurt my sister I will kick your ass. And I’m telling Cheol hyung,” Chan lets out a small squeak and salutes Hansol, promising he’ll treat you like a queen. Hansol nods and then continues. “And two, can y’all like, I don’t know, leave a sock or something on your doors when you’re gonna do this? I came in and heard some noises I never want to hear my sister and best friend making ever again so just give me a chance to put my headphones on.” 

“Ugh, sorry,” you grunt, your face heating up in mortification. 

“Yeah, yeah whatever. Glad you guys can stop trying but failing not to flirt in front of me. Now goodnight and please keep it down for the night, I’m begging you.”

You and Chan promise your brother that you’ll be considerate and he thanks you before shuffling into his room for the night.

“He took that better than expected,” you observe as you and Chan move into the bathroom.

“Yeah. Honestly, I was expecting him either to be grossed out or do something very out of character and hit me or something.”

You snort, turning on the shower water and hanging up the towel you’ve been holding against your body. “Hansol hasn’t swung on anyone or anything since he was at least seven and that was at our old neighbor’s bird because it tried to land on his head.” 

Chan cackles at the thought, but it’s quickly replaced with a low sigh as he watches you tuck your hair into a shower cap to keep it from getting wet. Watching you stand in front of him, naked and just existing comfortably makes both his heart beat out of his chest and his dick uncomfortably hard. 

You at least can notice the latter, eyes playfully observing his length between his legs. “Someone has an impressive bounce back period.” 

“I can’t help it. I have a beautiful, sexy woman standing naked in front of me. What do you want me to do?”

The bathroom isn’t that big so when you brush past Chan, it’s not hard to brush against him. Your thigh grazes his erection and he groans louder than intended, slapping his hand over his mouth when the sound comes out. You can’t help but giggle as you slip into the shower watching him still stand there and gawk at you.

“What you can do is, come join me in this shower and fuck me against this wall, but only if you can be way quieter than you just were.”

The sentence doesn’t even have a chance to finish completely before Chan is practically leaping into the shower, body crowding yours against the tile wall.

“Anything for you, Y/n.” He peppers your neck and shoulder with kisses, biting the skin as he goes.

“Mmm, you have got to stop saying that to me, Channie. You’ll spoil me.”

Chan pulls away, eyes meeting yours with the most serious expression you’ve seen from him since he confessed his feelings for you earlier this evening.

“Good. I want to spoil you and I will until I physically can’t anymore.” Chan rests his forehead against yours, taking a moment to enjoy being close to you as the shower water warms your skin.

“Only if you let me do the same to you, baby.” His eyes flutter at the pet name and you love the way it seems to make his skin flush more.

“Thank you, Y/n.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know, existing? Making me the luckiest man in the world? All of the above?” It’s your turn to get sheepish at his words, playfully pushing against his firm chest.

“Thank you, Chan. You treat me differently from so many other people I’ve been with and you make me feel special.” You hope he understands just how true your words are. The way he’s treated you since you moved in has been with nothing but care and affection, even before knowing he still likes you. Chan is a truly amazing guy and you consider yourself lucky that he wants you in his life like this.

“You are special and you should feel that way. I’ll make sure to keep doing it. And I’ll make sure you feel amazing and special in every way.” Warm hands slide down your body and slip between your legs to rub gentle circles against your clit. The whiplash from the tender moment to the not-so-tender startles you for only a moment before it’s replaced with want as Chan works you up.

Chan’s dancer hips are something to be studied and worshiped with the way in which he drills into you under the spray. You had teased him with being quiet, but you’re the one that needs to sink your teeth into the thick skin of his shoulder to stop from yelling his name.

He laughs between thrusts, but when you clench around him in retaliation, his pace falters and he pouts down at you. You kiss his pout away, keeping your lips together as you both cum, swallowing the possible noise complaints you’d have received otherwise. 

Even if Hansol had lectured you both about your noise level, it’d be worth it, especially when you see the blissful look on Chan’s face as he gazes at you. Eyes full of wonder, tiredness, and above all else, love. Even though it hasn’t been long at all, you’ll be surprised if he can’t see the same shining back up at him.

Time seems to fly by, and Christmas suddenly creeps up on you. Thankfully, you finish your shopping before the last minute and get everything you need to, done. You and Chan spend the time leading up to it doing as many cute, coupley things that you can think of while Hansol does his best to not be a third wheel. He rarely ever is, but you’re thankful for the support from your brother nonetheless.

On Christmas morning, Chan is up first, already wide awake and looking at you when you open your eyes. It’s cute if not a little surprising at first. He at least lets you brush your teeth and make yourself decent before ushering you into the hallway. He knocks loudly on Hansol’s door as he passes, telling him it’s time for presents. 

His excitement is incredibly endearing and it warms your heart to see him so eager to sit you down on the couch and present you with your first gift from under the Christmas tree. The first box is a small square, secured with a red sparkly ribbon. When you take the lid off, a CD looks back at you in a red, jewel tone case. You smile as you take it out and turn it over, seeing a note on the back along with the tracklist.

Songs for the only woman who’s ever owned my heart. Merry Christmas, Y/n.  Love, Your Channie

Tears prick your eyes at the gesture. It’s a small gift, but it’s personal. You don’t think you’ve had anyone make you a mixtape and yet again, it just proves how sweet Lee Chan is.

“Thank you Channie,” you pucker your lips and he eagerly leans down to kiss you, almost tripping into your lap in the process. “Oh!” He jumps up, running back to the tree for another box, this one wrapped in white ribbons. Inside is another rectangle box, but in that is the gift. 

“Chan?!”

“You like it?” He asks, taking the bracelet out of the box before you can answer. He gestures to your wrist and you present it, letting him clip the shiny, diamond tennis bracelet. “The sales lady said they’re really popular for the “special ladies in your life” this year and I thought you’d like it since you like pretty jewelry.” You give Chan a watery smile, stopping yourself again from nearly crying. Instead, you get up and pull him into a hug, squeezing his waist hard.

“I love it, thank you Chan,” When you pull away, it’s your turn to go to the tree to retrieve his gifts. 

“But I’ve already gotten the greatest gift I’ve ever wanted in my life,” he gestures to you with a flourish, making you roll your eyes.

“Oh yeah? Guess that means I should return these presents then huh?” You dangle both boxes in the air, raising an eyebrow.

“I mean…you already bought them and wrapped them though so you may as well just…” he makes grabby hands at the boxes and you can’t help but laugh, handing over both gifts to him. 

The first one he opens has a shiny silver watch in it that you saw in the mall with Jinah weeks ago and thought of him. It’s your turn to help him as you put it on his wrist, both of you admiring it. He mentions that it’s the nicest watch he’s ever owned and that he’ll never take it off.

When he gets to the other small box, he opens it to see an envelope sitting in the middle of the tissue paper. Curiously, Chan opens it pulling out what’s inside and he nearly passes out.

“Michael Jackson tickets?!”

“Yeah! I heard people at work talk about it like two months ago. He’s going to be in Seoul this summer! I was getting them for you whether we ended up together or not because I know how much you love him. You deserve it!” You beam at him and watch as tears well in his eyes this time. “Aw, Channie!”

Chan jumps from the couch to pull you into a bear hug at the same time that Hansol comes into the living room.

“Hyung, I have to tell you now, but I’m going to marry your sister,” he says in a serious tone.

“Chan!” Laughing, you squeeze his arms, trying to wriggle from his grasp.

“Fine as long as you still stick by my rules.”

“Hansol!” Both men purposely ignore you as they discuss your fictional wedding and Chan brags about his concert tickets. The whole moment fills you with an indescribable warmth, even when Chan finally releases you and lets you sit on the couch.

You didn’t anticipate that you’d end up here when you first thought about leaving your career, but you’re glad you did. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else other than here on Christmas with your two favorite men.

“The ball is going to drop soon!” Seungkwan announces to your group. He turns the volume of the TV up as the countdown shows on the screen.

It’s New Year’s Eve and your large group of friends is huddled in Jinah’s living room to ring in the New Year. You hadn’t known where you’d be ringing in the year 2000 initially and had anticipated it’d be at home, but with Jinah and Joshua dating and being almost inseparable for the last two weeks, she found herself hanging around the rest of the guys as much as you have and since her apartment is the biggest, she had everyone come here.

You’re sitting next to Chan on her couch as you pull your drinks closer. Seungkwan and his partner sit together holding hands, nervously checking the clock on the wall and looking back at the TV. The two of them, Seokmin, and one of their other friends named Mingyu all found out about Y2K around the same time and have been preparing for it leading up to tonight. No matter how many times you, Hansol, and Joshua try to tell them you’ll all be fine, you let the group of conspiracy theorists have their beliefs, knowing once the new year rolls in, they’ll be fine.

Chan often makes fun of them, but you also never miss the way his eyes widen when they talk about the computers exploding and the world ending.

“Three…two…one, happy new year!” Everyone’s voices echo throughout the room as you count down to the new year together, noisemakers and cheers following.

Chan turns towards you, his lips meeting yours as you share your first kiss of the new year. His hands cradle your face, tilting your head back just the slightest to deepen the short yet sensual kiss.

“Happy New Year, Y/n.” He says against your lips.

“Happy New Year, Chan.”

Around the room, the rest of your friends are pouring more champagne and you catch sight of Seungkwan and his partner still sharing their New Year’s kiss, both smiling, likely in relief. Joshua and Jinah are on the other side of the room, her head resting on his shoulder as they watch the fireworks on TV. Chan redirects your attention back to him to kiss you once more, this one quicker yet just as sweet.

And just like that the world doesn’t end, much to Seokmin, Mingyu, Seungkwan’s (and Chan’s) relief, but your new world with Chan in it has just begun. You’re looking forward to what the new millennia and life with Chan will bring.

Net tags: @kflixnet @kbookshelf | Taglist: @aaniag

[xomakara]

Roomies With Benefits

(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)

SUMMARY | You have no choice but to be roommates with San when there is a glitch in the leasing office’s system. The more time that you live together, the more that you both can’t help but want each other. PAIRING | San x Reader GENRE | non-idol!San, College AU, Roommate trope, fake dating trope, smut with some plot, protected sex (wrap it up everyone!), vaginal sex, oral sex, fingering RATING | Mature, 18+, NSFW, MDNI LENGTH | 7,380 words TAGLIST | -- NETWORKS | AUTHOR’S NOTE | I would not mind living with San (or any of the other members) if there was a glitch in the system. LOL. Hope you all enjoy, reblog, like, comment~ Love you all ❤️

ATEEZ Main Masterlist

"There has to be misunderstanding," You looked at the management team of your apartment complex. "There's no way that you could lease the unit to two people who signed two different leases at different times. Please tell me I'm not crazy."

"My system shows that both you and Mr Choi are on the lease..." The manager searched for something on his tablet. "I will double check with my secretary to confirm if everything is correct. We should have an answer by tomorrow afternoon. Until then, can you and Mr Choi share the unit?"

You shook your head. There was no way that you'd share the apartment with Choi San, the most popular guy on campus and your arch rival since freshman year. Okay, sure he was stupidly, insanely hot with a sexy brain to boot but he wasn't someone you would ever let into your personal space, much less share the same living space.

There was also the small fact that he was one of the most eligible bachelors at school and always getting girls all over him. He had dated many of them before they got tired of playing second fiddle to his social life or wanted to get closer to his family money. You had seen him flirting with women during lunch, talking to his other stupidly, insanely hot friends about how he couldn't wait to bang yet another girl later that night. Every time he turned around, some new girl was ogling at him and that infuriated you.

Not that you hadn't had your fair share of guys sliding into your DMs just because they were interested in you, trying to impress you with expensive gifts or showing up on campus with roses, candy and other 'cute' things just to see you smile and notice them. Sure you were the Queen Bee on campus, even with barely any effort on your part, but that didn't mean you needed everyone else telling you how pretty and desirable you were, did it?

No. You were perfectly fine being single, thank you very much.

But it seemed like this misunderstanding would force you to spend more time together. How terrible.

"Let's just share the apartment for one night." San spoke up, the manager giving him a small nod. "Tomorrow, we expect answers."

You walked out of the management office, a scowl on your face as you waited for the elevator. San was by your side, tapping his foot impatiently while keeping an eye on your reactions. You were tired and just didn't feel like arguing with him right now.

"Let's just get to the apartment and figure something out." San muttered next to you. "It's probably not a big deal."

You sighed. "If only it were that simple." You tried to find the quickest route to the apartment unit so you could get away from him.

The last thing you needed right now was to come across San and a lot of sexual tension going through the roof, only making you more irritable than you already were. You hated how badly you wanted him, hated yourself for reacting the way you did whenever he was near you. It was disgusting, embarrassing and it made you want to punch the wall.

Shit. This was bad. Really bad.

San noticed the look on your face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." You said as you approached the front door and opened it. You looked at the boxes that littered the living room area, both yours and his mingled together in a weird mixture of feminine and masculine decor.

He sighed and followed you inside. "Are you sure you're okay? Everything seems fine to me. What's the problem?"

"We need to share this apartment tonight." You stated matter-of-factly. "That means I'll be sleeping here with you. By tomorrow, the whole campus is going to talk about how the Queen Bee and Alpha Male hooked up. No way can that happen. My reputation is on the line."

"And what do you care about your reputation?" He asked, walking towards you. You backed up against the door, causing him to stop.

"You know I care about my image." You snapped back. "Besides, I've worked too hard to maintain my social status for me to lose it because of a mistake."

His eyes narrowed as he took in your features. His nostrils flared slightly, his gaze darkening with every passing second. You knew what he was doing and you wished you could say something, stop him from approaching you and taking you against the door like a predator chasing down its prey.

Your heartbeat accelerated and your body started to react in ways you never expected, long buried desires resurfacing once again, feelings stirring deep within your heart.

If he touched you right now, you wouldn't fight him. You'd let him take you and fuck you into oblivion until neither of you could walk. All you cared about was his lips on your neck, his hands running along your hips and thighs, your fingers entwined with his. You'd be content to go slow and explore your bodies for hours, waiting for the moment when he finally plunged into you, thrusting hard and fast until you couldn't take anymore.

Instead, you were stuck with San, who was staring at you with his hot brown eyes, and even though he didn't touch you, the longing in his stare burned hotter than the fire raging behind his irises. You were powerless to do anything but stand there, watching him silently and hoping that he would finally make his move.

But he didn't. He turned away and gestured to the door of the bedroom. "Take the room. I'll sleep on the couch tonight. Hopefully, tomorrow we can find out why there was a mix-up and we won't have to worry about this shit anymore."

"Are you sure you don't mind?" You asked hesitantly. He glanced at you, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as he stared at you intently.

"Yeah, take it." San nodded. "Despite all the things you hear about me on campus, I don't go around sleeping with women without their consent. Even you, Queen Bee. I respect that. Just take the room."

"Thank you." You breathed softly, thankful for his generosity and maturity. With a slight sigh, you walked towards the bedroom and closed the door behind you. You locked it and crawled onto the bed, pulling the blanket over your body and laying there for a few seconds before turning off the lights.

You lay on the bed for a few minutes, wondering what had gotten into San. Why did he suddenly act so mature? And was it really possible that you weren't imagining things earlier? Did he actually desire you as well?

It felt like a heavy weight was lifted off your shoulders. Yes, maybe it was a mix-up and the leasing office really did mess up your contracts. Maybe, just maybe, everything would work out just fine.

With those thoughts filling your mind, you fell asleep quickly.

You woke up slowly, disoriented from the light pouring into the room. Your heart raced as your eyes adjusted to the sunlight. Slowly opening your eyes, you blinked several times, your eyes adjusting to the unfamiliar ceiling above you.

Getting up and unlocking the door to the bedroom to make your way to the kitchen, you looked at San's figure as he snoozed away on the couch. The covers were pulled up to his chin and his shirt was partially undone, exposing a sliver of chestnut skin.

For a moment, you just stood there and watched him sleep, the excitement from yesterday still lingering on your skin.

You started up the coffee machine, brewed a fresh pot and made your way to one of the boxes in the living one that had your clothes packed in. Careful to not wake San up, you closed the bathroom door behind you and locked it so that you could shower in peace.

After taking a quick shower, you dried yourself off and put on your clothes. You made your way back to the kitchen and poured yourself a cup of coffee, adding a spoonful of sugar to sweeten it a little. As you sipped on the delicious black liquid, you leaned against the counter and browsed on your phone. A minute passed before you heard the sound of footsteps on the wooden floor, followed by a yawn.

"Good morning." San said with a soft smile as you poured him a cup of coffee and slid it towards him.

"Morning." You replied. "After you get ready for the day, let's go down to the leasing office and see what they say."

"Sure." He said as he gulped down half his coffee, eyes trained on your form as you took another sip. You knew exactly what was going through his head and you didn't think he was going to be able to hide it from you anytime soon. The expression on his face was clear evidence that he liked what he saw.

About half an hour later, you and San both made your way to the leasing office. Walking past the crowds of students that congregated outside the main building, you arrived at the office and entered the queue. After a short wait, you finally reached the front desk and signed your name on the sign-in sheet.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience." The manager apologized again as he looked at you and San. "Unfortunately, there was a glitch in the system and I'm afraid that our records show that we mistakenly assigned you the same unit."

"There's no other units that are available? Not even in a different location?" San inquired, a frown etched across his brow.

"There's nothing left." The manager shook his head. "All the other units have already been filled by other students that are no longer living in the dorms, sorority or frat houses."

"When is the next available unit?" You asked, putting on your best poker face. "How long will it take for us to get one?"

The manager paused for a moment, seemingly torn between wanting to tell you that there wasn't another unit available and being worried about offending you by saying so. "I'm so very sorry but there won't be any available units until the next school year. You may have to find someplace else to live if you cannot accept that."

"That won't be necessary." San interrupted. "I'm sure Miss Y/N and I will figure something out."

"That's good." The manager gave you a sympathetic smile before looking back at San. "Well, if you need anything at all, please let me know. If you need help finding a new place, I'm happy to assist."

San nodded and gave the man a polite smile before turning towards you. "We should go. Let's head back to the apartment."

You followed him back to the elevator, ignoring all the curious glances that the both of you attracted. Some people didn't know why you two were sharing an apartment, others were just trying to catch a glimpse of San and you, others were already forming their opinions and thoughts of the two hottest people on campus and if they were really dating. Either way, everyone wanted to know the answers to these questions.

By the time you got to the apartment unit, the sun had almost set and nightfall was upon you. Both of you dumped your bags inside the apartment and decided to sit down on the couch.

"So..." San said, breaking the silence. "I guess we're going to spend our last year of university in the same unit..."

You nodded. "Yep."

"Let's try to work something out. Why don't you continue to stay in the bedroom and I'll stay on the couch for the time being?"

"I can't let you sleep on the couch forever, San." You protested.

"Then just let me stay in the bedroom until we find another solution." He suggested. "Unless you don't want to share the bed with me either?"

"I-I'm fine with sharing." You stammered out, avoiding eye contact with him. There was a nervous twitch dancing on the end of your lips as you felt your cheeks grow warm with embarrassment.

"What are you thinking about, Y/N?" San asked, bringing your attention back to him. His eyes flickered from side to side, peeking at your lips before landing on your eyes.

"Oh...nothing." You mumbled, averting your gaze. "I can already hear the rumours..."

"Then why don't we just date?" San suggested. "At least to the public. No one will bat an eye if we said that we moved in together because after being a couple for a few months. But in private, we'll just be two roommates. Nothing more."

"Maybe...maybe we should do that." You murmured softly. Your cheeks grew redder and your voice was barely audible. You could feel your heart pounding loudly in your chest as your pulse raced in anticipation of what San would say next.

"I promise I won't touch you unless you ask me to." San said softly. "And I won't demand anything sexual from you."

You swallowed heavily, biting your lip as you met San's intense gaze. "You...you're sure?"

"Of course I am." He said firmly. "I don't want to pressure you into doing anything that you aren't comfortable with. So I'll leave it up to you."

Tilting your head to the side, you tried to decide how to respond. If this was truly the only option you had, then perhaps dating San would work out. “Okay, fine.” You sighed, giving in. “We’ll try it. But if I ever start feeling uncomfortable or I don’t want to date you anymore, you better not hold it against me.”

"Deal, now why don't we start unpacking?" San suggested, standing up and walking towards the bedroom. "This is going to be our home for the next year. Let's make it a nice home, okay?"

He was right. This would be your home for the next year and you should make the most of it. Putting aside your worries for the moment, you grabbed your bag and followed San into the bedroom. Once you had unpacked your stuff, you sat down on the edge of the bed while San sorted out the rest of his belongings. You both then moved to the living room and settled on opposite sides of the couch.

"I can already see the look on your friends' faces when we tell them that we're 'dating'. They probably think that we're crazy and that we're playing games. They'll see right through us." You remarked.

"Then should we practice on making it look real?" San asked. "Or is that asking too much?"

“I don’t think I have it in me.” You shrugged. “But if it makes you feel better…”

With a smile plastered across his face, San leaned forward and kissed you on the lips. It wasn’t overly romantic and it was brief, but it showed enough of his intentions to get you to agree to his plan. You hadn’t expected that kissing him would make you feel tingly inside, but your stomach fluttered as he pressed his lips to yours. You could taste the remnants of coffee on his tongue and you couldn’t help but pull him closer to you, deepening the kiss. Before you knew it, you found yourself pinned to the sofa by San, unable to move or resist his grip.

"Y/N..." San whispered hoarsely. "Do you want to stop this or...?"

"I...don't know..." You confessed, not wanting to lie. "We can keep kissing...but nothing else tonight."

He looked into your eyes, a brief smile gracing his beautiful lips. "Okay, I could deal with only kissing." He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the idea. "Though...if you change your mind, just give me a sign and I'll stop immediately."

Relieved, you smiled softly at San before nodding slightly. "Yeah, I'll let you know."

"Okay, then I'm going to kiss you some more." San purred, leaning in once again. "If you tell me to stop, I will."

His lips descended slowly over yours, igniting your body with passion. He tasted like coffee and mint toothpaste and he smelled amazing. His hands explored your waistline, slipping under the material of your shirt. All you wanted was to feel San’s skin against yours. To feel every inch of his muscular frame pressed against you. To inhale the scent of his cologne and bask in the warmth radiating off his body. With those thoughts in mind, you leaned forward and ran your fingers through his hair, pulling him tighter against you.

Your kisses became deeper, your breathing erratic as you moaned louder than you intended. Your hips arched upwards, pressing against San's crotch. A small groan escaped his throat as you began kissing him harder, your breath hot and ragged against his ear.

You weren't aware that your fingernails dug into his scalp as you felt him push against you, trying to make you moan louder. "Y/N..." San moaned as you bit down on his earlobe, sending chills down your spine. "We should stop...while we can."

You lifted your head, panting heavily as you gazed at San. "Yeah, yeah we should stop." You agreed, trying to steady your heartbeat.

Damn, living with San was going to be interesting.

That night you laid in bed under the covers as you turned your head to watch San snoozed next to you on top of the covers. You stared at his sleeping form for several minutes before realizing that you were staring at him. You smiled softly as you layed back down, curling up beside him. After a few moments, San opened his eyes and gazed at you.

"Are you awake?" He asked quietly.

"Mmhmm, yes I am." You responded softly. "Hard to sleep with someone lying next to you isn't it?"

San rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. "It certainly can be." He murmured. "But I've been doing it for so long that I just kind of accepted it."

"I guess I haven't gotten used to having someone next to me yet." You commented with a small chuckle.

"The Queen Bee is not used to having someone next to her?" San teased. "How strange."

Shaking your head, you smiled. "No, not at all. I know I get plenty of male attention being the Queen Bee on campus but I just turn everyone down. I guess it's because I prefer spending my time alone. Besides, the guys who are attracted to me are creeps anyway."

"I'm attracted to you." San chuckled. "Does that make me a creep?"

"There's no way you're attracted to me, Choi San." You replied, shaking your head again. "I'm not exactly your type."

"Who says you're not my type?" He countered. "All the other girls that try to get into my pants? You don't think I notice you?"

You sighed, rolling your eyes at San's persistence. He was determined to prove his point, despite the fact that you still disagreed with him. "Look, I'm flattered that you think I'm attractive but-"

"No, Y/N." San interrupted. "Just hear me out. You're beautiful, smart and funny. Plus, you don't put up with any crap from anyone. Do you know how rare that is?"

For the first time since San spoke, you stopped to think about his words. "Am I really that special?" You asked.

"You're pretty damn special, actually." San admitted. "I don't know why you don't think you're attractive if half the student body and myself fall at your feet."

Laughing lightly, you shook your head. "I think I'd rather spend my time alone than get wrapped up in relationships." You decided. "Besides, I'm not interested in hook ups."

"You didn't say that when we kissed earlier." San pointed out.

"I-it was different!" You protested. "A kiss doesn't mean I want to have sex with you!"

San smirked. "Why did you kiss me then? Just to test the waters?"

Blushing bright red, you ducked your head low as San reached out and gently stroked your cheek. "Not necessarily..." You muttered, glancing away.

"Don't be embarrassed by what happened earlier." San said, placing a finger underneath your chin and lifting your head. "I liked kissing you and I know you like kissing me too. If you don't want to do anything else tonight, then that's fine with me. But you need to at least admit that there's something between us."

Your heart pounded loudly in your ears as you fought back the desire to lean forward and kiss him. "So what do you suggest we do instead?" You asked.

"Well..." San trailed off. "There is one thing I've always wanted to do with you."

"Oh?" You asked.

"Mmhm." San nodded. "I was hoping that maybe you'd let me kiss you again."

A grin tugged at the corner of your mouth as you watched San's face light up. "I'm not opposed to another kiss." You admitted. "But..."

"But?" San prompted.

"I was thinking..." You trailed off, trying to find the right words. "Maybe we could just go slow and enjoy each other's company."

San regarded you for a moment before nodding. "Alright, I can do that." He said. "Tonight's the first night we live together so it'll be the perfect opportunity for us to get to know each other. We can take things easy and see where they lead us."

You placed a hand on San's cheek, tracing his soft features with your thumb. "I like the sound of that." You told him. "Now you can kiss me."

For the remainder of the night, you were lost in his kisses.

It had been several weeks since you and San started living together as roommates. In the comfort of your own home, the both of you led your private lives away from the prying eyes of others. Nowadays, the both of you would talk for hours on end about your day or complain about the latest episode of your favourite drama. You never thought that being able to converse with someone was such a relief, especially after a stressful week at work or class.

When the both of you were out in public together, you both played your parts as a couple convincingly. You'd hold hands with San, kiss him, blush when his hand slid lower than where it needed to be and even grab onto his arm whenever the conversation turned serious. Even San's friends were convinced that the both of you were dating and no one batted an eye when you came out of the bathroom in the middle of the party to hug San, accidentally brushing your breast against his arm or when he would wrap an arm around your waist to pull you close to him and kiss your forehead.

Friends would ask about your sex life but you clearly didn't have one. At least not yet. You were content spending the night in bed telling each other stories or just cuddling while watching television. Exchanging kisses every now and then but making sure to limit yourselves to making out and no further. It wasn't that you didn't want to have sex with San, it was just that you weren't ready for a relationship at this point in your life. Not to mention that you didn't want to rush into anything. If you took your time getting to know San better, it would make everything less awkward when the time finally came.

And then San's friend Wooyoung wanted to throw a small get-together at the apartment.

"Why does everyone want to throw a party here?" You complained as you walked into the kitchen. "Can't anyone take care of their own parties?"

"Scared that everyone will find out?" San teased you.

"How will they find out when our apartment has both of our stuff scattered everywhere?" You mumbled. "Our apartment literally looks like a couple. If anyone steps into the bedroom, I will murder someone."

San chuckled as he stood beside you, handing you a cup of tea. "I know you'd rather be curled up on the couch with a book but let's try to keep appearances up tonight. Okay?"

You sighed, taking the offered cup. "Fine."

Wooyoung had invited all of his friends and a few girls from the campus. Although you didn't want to mingle with the others, you did it for San's sake. But as the night progressed, you became increasingly bored. Most of the guys in attendance were there to ogle over the attractive women but San stuck close to you the entire time. The girls, on the other hand, kept flirting and vying for San's attention but he refused them all politely.

He only had eyes for you.

Sighing, you excused yourself from the room to use the restroom. After finishing your business, you left the restroon and tried looking for a seat but noticed that they were all taken. Everyone was drinking, eating, and conversing with each other. When San saw you standing there, he gestured you over to him, only to pull you into his lap.

"San!" You whispered, his hands resting on your hips.

"Shh...it's time to play house." San murmured huskily into your ear. "Need to keep up the charade."

You blushed deeply, glancing around at the amused stares of his friends. For the sake of San, you accepted his invitation to stay seated on his lap. At first, it seemed innocent enough, but soon you could feel San running a hand up and down your back, his soft fingers caressing your bare thigh. The tips of his fingers slowly inched higher until they brushed against the bottom of your skirt.

"San..." You whispered again, surprised by his sudden boldness.

"Can I kiss you, Y/N?" He breathed into your ear. "Please? I really want to kiss you right now."

Your breath hitched in your throat, knowing full well what he meant. Not that you were opposed to kissing San, you enjoyed the feel of his lips pressed against yours whenever you got the chance. But he'd never made a move on you like this before in public. Sure, you'd gotten hugs and a quick peck on the cheek from him for appearances sake but none of those kisses made your heart race like this.

"What do you think?" San whispered, pulling back from your ear long enough to meet your gaze.

"In front of everyone?" You questioned quietly.

"Baby, we need to give them a show so they can get up and leave the apartment." He reasoned. "Besides, I've been thinking about kissing you this whole day. And you looked so sexy today, dressed in that short skirt and that tight, sexy top. So yes, in front of everyone is exactly where I want to be kissing you."

With a soft sigh, you reluctantly nodded. "Alright, let's give them something to watch."

Slowly, San pulled you closer, placing his free hand on the nape of your neck, gently holding your head still. Then, with his mouth just inches away from yours, San whispered, "Kiss me, Y/N."

You closed your eyes and lowered your head, offering your lips to San without hesitation. In return, San captured your lips in a gentle kiss that melted your insides and made you gasp. Your mouths remained connected, devouring each other with lustful desire. There was no hesitation, no inhibitions; it was purely a display of raw lust and intense passion.

The way he held you, tenderly caressing your back, sending goosebumps all over your body and the pressure of his lips against yours sent shivers down your spine. All you wanted to do was to run your fingers through his messy, black hair and slip your arms around his neck, begging him to touch you wherever he pleased.

As if reading your mind, San broke the kiss, grinning as he rested his forehead against yours. "Well, are you satisfied?"

Hearing San speak like that caused your cheeks to burn red. "You could say that." You replied, a little breathless.

"Good." San grinned, lightly running his fingers down your side.

You heard a cough and you both looked up to see Wooyoung staring at the two of you with a smug grin on his face. "Sooooo, is this the cue for us to end the party and go home so that ya'll can fuck each other senseless? Because that's what I'm hearing."

San chuckled lightly as he rose to his feet, pulling you along with him. "Yep, I guess that is what we're doing. Time to shut the party down. Y/N is feeling tired."

"Tired, my ass." Wooyoung sneered, eyeing the two of you with amusement. "You guys are just horny. Look how the two of you can't keep your hands off of each other."

"Once you get a taste of pussy, you can't get enough of it." San commented and you couldn't help but bury your head in his shoulder out of sheer embarrassment. You looked up at San and he grinned down at you.

"Alright, folks. Party is over." You announced. "Go home so that I can have my boyfriend all to myself. Bye!"

You smiled brightly as you waved goodbye to everyone. Soon, the apartment was empty except for the two of you and it felt nice to finally be alone with San again. As soon as you sat on the couch, San's hands grabbed onto your thighs and pulled you closer to him.

"You don't have to pretend anymore, baby." San whispered in your ear, making your heart flutter uncontrollably. "All of these people aren't here to judge you. We can enjoy ourselves in our own little world."

He stroked your leg softly, trailing his fingers down the edge of your skirt.

"It feels good to not have to act like we have a charade going on." You murmured, smiling up at San.

"Why don't we make this charade real then?" San gave you a mischievous smile, unbuttoning your tight shirt and letting it fall to the floor. "Why don't we live in reality instead of this fantasy that we're putting on for everyone else?"

"San...what are you-"

But before you could finish your sentence, San reached up and cupped your face with his hands, giving you a deep, passionate kiss that left you breathless. Once he released your lips, you stared up at him with wide eyes. "Baby, I don't want to just kiss anymore. It's so hard for me to control myself around you. I want to throw you over the couch, tear your clothes off and fuck you until neither of us can move anymore."

"I know you want it too, Y/N. It shows in the way you look at me sometimes." San admitted, leaning down to give you another gentle kiss. "When you kiss me sometimes. When you wear these sexy clothes and don't think I'm not paying attention to you. I pay attention, I pay so much attention that I want to rip your clothes off and fuck you until you're screaming my name. I want you, baby. More than I ever thought possible. I want to lose myself in you. Take you any which way I please. Make you scream my name so loud that everyone within earshot knows who you belong to."

Fuck, you wanted this man. So bad that you ached in places that you never knew existed. Your body hummed with pleasure as you moaned against San's lips. "And why hold it in?" You whimpered, raising your hand to trace the outline of San's jawline.

"Because you're a queen that deserves to be treated like one." San growled, slowly slipping his tongue into your open mouth. "And if my queen wanted to wait and take things slow, then I would respect her wishes. I would wait until she wants me inside of her, filling her with the sweet warmth of my love."

You gasped as his warm tongue slid over yours. His kiss was different from the ones you shared in the past. Now, it wasn't as if you two were strangers; there was an unspoken connection between you two that grew deeper with every passing second. "And now?"

"I want you, Y/N. I want you more than anything in this world." San rasped. "Tonight, I want you in ways that I haven't even imagined before. You've made me realize that there are a lot of things I've never experienced in life, and now that I have you, I plan on experiencing everything."

Your heart swelled in your chest as you gazed at San with longing. You leaned forward, pressing your lips against San's once again, wanting nothing more than to be in his embrace forever.

This. Was. It.

"I want you too." You mumbled against his lips. "Every part of you, San."

A single hand ran through your hair, tugging gently while the other caressed your cheekbone. Your hands grasped the sides of his shirt, gently pulling it upward until it fell to the floor with a thud.

"Oh God, baby." San moaned as you kissed your way down his neck, leaving a trail of fire-like kisses along his collar bone. When you finally stopped teasing him, you placed your palms against his muscular stomach and ran them downward until you reached the waistband of his jeans. Slowly, you unzipped his pants, revealing his hard length for the very first time.

"San...you're so beautiful." You breathed, caressing his shaft with trembling fingers. "I've always loved the way you smell, but seeing you with your pants undone, sporting a cock so big and thick in front of me has made me a complete mess."

He groaned as you took his dick into your hand, admiring the thickness and length of it. It was perfectly shaped and there was a huge vein pulsating down its center, stretching out towards the tip of his erection. His dick was so perfect, so breathtaking, that you had a difficult time keeping yourself from taking him into your mouth and sucking on it.

Instead, you cupped his balls in one hand and began massaging them with the other, causing him to groan even louder.

"Are you trying to drive me crazy?" He asked in between pants.

"Is it working?" You teased.

"Yes..." He muttered through clenched teeth. "More, baby. Please, give me more."

His words fueled your already raging desire for him. You squeezed his balls harder, eliciting a low moan from him. You dropped to your knees and started to pull his underwear down until they pooled at his ankles. San threw his head back, moaning louder as your mouth descended upon his cock, tasting the salty essence of pre-cum as you engulfed the entirety of him in your mouth.

"You're such a good girl." San moaned, running his hands through your hair as you pleasured him. "So eager to please. So eager to swallow my cum, just like you swallowed all of me. That's it, Y/N. Suck it like you mean it. Suck it like you fucking love it."

Breathing heavily, you licked the head of his dick, humming as you continued to suck on him. The taste of him was intoxicating, addicting, almost like drinking your favorite cocktail. Each time you slid your mouth further down, taking him deeper into your throat, you felt yourself getting lost in his intoxicating scent.

Soon, you found yourself drooling over the sight of his dick sliding between your lips. And as you looked up at him with hooded eyes, you noticed the way he looked at you. Like you were his entire universe. Like you were meant to be his.

"Please..." San whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Take it all."

You hummed against him, continuing to stroke him in a circular motion with your hand as you kept up with your ministrations with your mouth. You could feel him getting close to climax, so you slowed down, taking his dick out of your mouth. "Cum for me, San. Coat my throat with your cum."

You wanted him to cum so badly. You wanted him to fill your mouth with his semen so that you could drink it down greedily. "Let it flow, San. Let it all flow down my throat."

A few seconds later, you heard San release a strangled gasp. A second after that, he flooded your mouth with his cum, shooting stream after stream down your throat.

It didn't matter if you weren't prepared for it. All that mattered was that San came, and that he did it because of you.

As he pumped out the last of his semen into your mouth, you felt the vibrations in his dick as he became still. A moment later, you took the head of his dick into your mouth, sucking the remaining cum off of him. Then, you raised your head and looked up at San, panting slightly as he tried to catch his breath.

"Did I do good?" You asked, tilting your head to the side as you watched him carefully.

"You blew me away, baby." San chuckled, reaching out to touch your cheek. "And now I really want to fuck you."

"Mmm, okay." You nodded. "That sounds like a great idea."

With a wicked grin, San wrapped his arms around your waist and picked you up off the ground, carrying you over to the bedroom. Once he laid you down on the bed, he climbed atop you, kissing your forehead, his hands pulling off the last of your clothes. After that, his lips followed their path southward, lingering against your skin as his mouth moved down to tease your breasts.

Once his lips latched onto your nipples, he began sucking gently on them, occasionally releasing them to circle around them with his tongue. At the same time, his fingers began circling around your core, his thumb dipping between your folds and pushing into you with soft, tender strokes.

"Ahh..." You cried out as your entire body began to tingle. "S-San!"

"Tell me what you want, Y/N." San murmured against your breast. "Tell me how you want me to fuck you."

Gathering all of your courage, you pulled his face upwards and locked eyes with him. "Do whatever you want with me, San. Do whatever you need to do to get you off. Fuck me however you want. But please...fuck me hard."

At the sound of your begging, San laughed softly and said, "Well, when you put it that way...you make it very difficult to refuse."

Grabbing a condom out of the nightstand drawer, he ripped it open with his teeth, using his other hand to roll it down his throbbing member. Soon enough, he positioned himself between your legs and settled himself on top of you, sinking into your wet heat with one thrust.

It was the best feeling you'd ever experienced. Being completely filled by this man. This man who you desperately wanted to claim as your own.

San grabbed your wrists, pinning them over your head as he started to pump his hips, slowly. "God, you feel amazing." He grunted. "You're so tight around me. So hot. So fucking hot. I can't believe that I'm finally here, buried deep inside of you. Your pussy is tighter than I could have ever dreamed of. How is that even possible?"

"Fuck, San..." You panted, rocking your hips underneath him. "Keep going."

"Okay." San replied, smiling as he pushed into you harder. "You want it harder? Okay, I'll give it to you."

One of San's hands went to your hip, gripping you tightly as he slammed into you. His other hand gripped your hair, bringing your face closer to his as he bit down on your shoulder. "Fuck, baby." He whispered. "Your tits look amazing bouncing in the air."

"Does it feel good, Y/N?" He whispered, pushing into you even harder. "Tell me what you like. Tell me what you want me to do."

"Ahhh..." You cried out. "I like this, San. Just keep doing this. Keep doing exactly what you're doing."

His lips left your shoulder and traveled to your ear where he nibbled lightly on your lobe. "I love the way you say my name." He murmured, brushing his nose across your cheek. "It's so sexy. So, so fucking sexy."

He then trailed kisses down your neck, pausing to kiss and suck your collar bone as he continued to plunge into you. Before long, he was running his lips back up to your ear, whispering against it. "Y/N, are you ready for me to take you to heaven and back? Because I am. I am right now. As soon as you let go, I'll take you to paradise and fuck you until we both pass out from exhaustion."

"Oh god, San..." You whimpered, tightening your thighs around him. "Take me there. Take me to paradise. Don't stop fucking me. Never stop fucking me. Don't you dare stop fucking me."

"Never." He agreed, running his hand over your ass as he increased his pace, slamming into you over and over again. "I don't ever plan on stopping."

"Yes, yes, yes!" You screamed, burying your head into the pillow beneath you as San increased his speed yet again. You dug your nails into the mattress as you panted loudly, attempting to regain your breath. "San, oh god, San!"

"Cum for me, baby." He panted against your ear. "Can you cum for me?"

"Yes!" You cried out, arching your back and grabbing hold of the sheets, wrapping your fingers around them. "I'm coming! Oh god, I'm coming!"

A few seconds later, San's entire body stiffened and his dick began pulsating inside of you. For a brief moment, his cock twitched as he held onto you for dear life before the orgasm hit him and washed over him. He fell forward onto your chest, gasping for breath as you clung to him. When he caught his breath, he pulled out of you, sitting upright on the bed next to you and pulled the condom off of his dick. With a small smile, he tossed it onto the floor, then collapsed beside you, spooning you from behind.

After several minutes, you finally recovered from your near death experience and opened your eyes. You smiled softly as you saw San lying naked next to you.

"Hey." He murmured, brushing his fingertips along your arm. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." You assured him, snuggling into him.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" San asked, stroking your arm with his thumb.

"No, you didn't hurt me." You giggled. "Actually, it felt pretty damn amazing."

"I'm glad." San sighed. "And to think that we've been living together all this time and haven't done this. We definitely need to remedy that situation."

You couldn't help but laugh as you pressed a kiss to his lips. "And how do you propose we do that?"

"Anytime, anywhere." San grinned. "I don't care. As long as it involves you and me and lots of sex."

"Oh, we can definitely work with that." You giggled. "Speaking of which...I'm kind of curious about something."

"What's that?" San asked, running his hand up and down your thigh.

"Now that this whole thing has happened...are we still playing pretend or...?"

"We're not pretending anymore, Y/N." San interrupted you. "From now on, you're mine and I'm yours."

You swallowed nervously. "Yours?"

"I'm saying that we're together, baby." San explained, pulling you in close. "For real this time. No more games. No more pretending."

You smiled softly, resting your head against San's chest. "That makes me really happy, San."

"Now that that's settled," he murmured against your neck, "how about we get this night started again? Because I know I can't wait any longer to fuck you again."

"San!" You let out a laugh as you squirmed in his arms. "Don't you dare."

"...Too late." San smirked as he slid into you. "I told you that I wouldn't stop until I fucked you again. And I meant every word."

And he certainly wasn't kidding.

[scrompsautobotsrchives]

I’m real

I really can't stop writing about Bee, He's just so friend-shaped!! And he is the best comforter. Warning: Slight angst but ends with fluff. Word count:1.1K

You only just learnt about the word Decepticon a little while ago when Optimus was going through the archives of Cybertron, he then brought up a recording that contained one of them.

"Who's that ??" You frowned, even the menacing look was enough to give you shivers in your spine.

"Starscream, One of Megatron's many allies..."

Even though this Starscream or Megatron was somewhere probably and hopefully far away, You couldn't help but shake the feeling that one of them was behind you.

You began to learn about the Decepticons and what they did to the Autobot's when they captured them, It was something straight out of a horror movie.

"I don't mean to frighten you about this y/n, But they are and always will be a very great risk not only to us... but to your kind as well..." Optimus said sympathetically.

You knew he just wanted to help you just in case the worst came to worst, But the feeling of either Starscream or Megatron behind you plagued your mind for the rest of the day, Even bumblebee could see the shift in you. You weren't as playful when you finished all your tasks in the base, even on the drive home you were practically silent.

"You alright ??..." You heard the radio flick, breaking the long silence.

"I'm alright buddy... I'm alright..." You patted the dashboard gently as you neared your home.

You greeted your dad and soon tried to unwind with your normal routine, but your classic brain and intrusive thoughts, the Decepticons continued to plague up until you brought yourself to bed.

Taking a deep breath as you looked up at the ceiling... "They're not here... They won't be able to get you here..." You whispered to yourself as you soon closed your eyes and tried to sleep.

You soon woke up from a bang, looking at the clock, it was about 1 in the morning, rushing outside to find out what the bang was... you were horrified to find out that it was from bee... he was dead... lying there on the ground, his optics not shining the familiar blue light.

"Bee !!" You rushed out to get to him, but you were knocked out. Soon waking up in an unfamiliar location, tied down with the light above you being the only source of light, you tried to get out of the restraints but it was no use. "Help !!"

"Quiet human" You gasped softly as you saw red optics light up, it was one of them...

"What did you do to bee !!" You yelled at it.

"B-127 was a pain in the neck, I just got rid of the problem" The Decepticon chuckled darkly as he came into the light, Starscream...

"Megatron will be so pleased to meet you" He smirked and dragged his sharp claw along your forearm, you grimaced in slight pain until you began to hear thuds. Another pair of red optics shined through, much taller than Starscream.

"Where is Optimus Prime ??" His voice low and menacing.

"I... I don't know what you were talking about..." You frowned, now scared.

He stormed over to you and got up close and personal to your face, making you look away.

"I will not ask again human !! Where is Optimus Prime!!" He yelled at you.

"I'm not giving him up !!" You yelled back... making it the biggest mistake you'll ever make.

He hummed and began to stand back, Looking at Starscream who just simply nodded to him. "If you won't speak, we will find a way..." He then raised an arm, a tiny robot soon crawled his way out of his arm and began to creep slowly to you, speaking in a language you couldn't understand.

You began to hyperventilate as you frantically tried to get out of the restraints, this little thing was just toying with you at this point. "Get away !!" You screamed as it then began to move onto your torso and crawl right up to your face, Continuing to speak as the red optics pierced through your eyes.

It cackled as it then began to transformed its hand into a sharp tool, It lifted it up, this was it... all you could do was scream. It made a move before everything then turned black, You screamed again when you jolted up, sweating pure bullets as you frantically looked around, you were back in your room. It was all just a bad dream, you slowly curled in on yourself and started to cry, It felt so real... Bee was dead... and you were about to as well.

But a familiar Autobot heard your scream, waking up from his recharge and getting extremely worried, he transformed and rushed out of the garage, he began to walk to your bedroom window, being careful of the plants. He soon spotted you shaking badly, he could see your panic rising.

He tried to attempt to lift the tiny window without breaking it. "What's... wrong...."

You frantically looked up and saw the Blue optics you've come to know and love deeply, Bee was alive. You slowly managed to get out of bed and shuffle to the window, you were shaking so bad as you then began to unlatch the window and open it, You were so spooked. "Bee..." More tears flooded your eyes, as you crawled out of the window to him.

He whirred softly and let you crawl into his arms, Wrapping you in a tight but gentle embrace. Patting your back as gently as he could, You tried to focus on the soft hum of his spark. He was here... He was right here.

Bee soon flicked his radio to play a lullaby, Humans liked lullabies. It worked as you soon slowly but surely started to calm down, and your breathing started to ease. Bee didn't do anything to put you down, slowly rocking from side to side, nuzzling you a little.

"Nightmare..." Was all that you were able to get out... Going into detail would only make you worse than what it already was.

Bee's optics softened, He gently petted you and tried to keep you warm, continuing to rock you as the lullaby continued to play. He soon pressed his chin against your head gently, as if he was trying to place a tiny kiss on your head.

"It's... not real... I'm... real..." He looked at you.

You nodded softly, looking up at the soft optics. Ones that promised to keep you safe and that would never let go of you. "Ok..." You sighed, safe in the arms of your best friend. Bumblebee would keep you close so long as you lived. He wouldn't let anything bad happen to you or him.

Taglist: @callofdudes

[elryuse]

Hierarchy

Pt 4 : Truth Or Dare

Y/n POV

Somehow, I found myself getting closer and closer to ryujin. Something that even shocked me. I was a nobody, I was a scholar, And even though ryujin was one of those privileged students, She didn't care to be friends with me. Day by day, My usual boring life was starting to shift. Ryujin alongside her friends would always ask me to go out together. Either eating at one of those luxurious cafes, Hanging out at the Large library, and even staying out at one of those PC bangs until late at night.

And without me realizing, I was getting closer and closer to some of the most privileged students here at jooshin high. One day, At the classroom. Ms. Han was teaching us about the ways people could play other people just by using their brain. The whole class was sternly listening to every word that comes out from Ms. Han's mouth. She explains that, One of human's biggest weaknesses is their ego. And we, as a student of Jooshin High, Must learn how to use that weakness, So that we can achieve whatever we want.

"This is how you'll earn your place at the highest level. This is how we can reach the hierarchy". Ms Han exclaimed.

As the materials were done. Ms sohee said her goodbyes, Before me and the rest of the class. We could finally take our lunch and have some time to relax. Ryujin immediately took a seat close to me, Alongside some of her friends such as Jimin, Minjeong, Yeji, and Chaewon. As they kept gossiping about the recent news and popular K-pop groups. Yeji murmured something out, Which was about the upcoming Birthday party of the Top students at Jooshin high, Which was none other than Park So-hyun.

I was hesitant at first, A large event such as this was a very new experience for me. I mean, I don't know what I should do, What I should bring, Or what I even need to go for. However, Ryujin kept begging me. As she playfully teases me, Making me blush like crazy. As I tried my best to reject her offer, Ryujin and her friends kept teasing me, And in the end, I found myself accepting their offer.

Small Timeskip

As D-Day is coming up. I was nervous as ever, I wasn't sure if my clothes were that proper. I mean, I don't even know what the dress code for this party was. All ryujin said was to wear something nice. How the fuck should I know, What's nice for them and what's not nice for them. Haishhh... It's frustrating asf. But nonetheless, I tried to wear something proper. So I decided to wear a casual piece of suit. With a nice white cotton shirt.

As I looked at myself in the mirror, I could only think about what sort of crazy thing would happen today. After getting done with myself, I waited for my transportation. Which was provided by ryujin. I don't know why, But this privileged student didn't really bother to buy or rent their friends some expensive lifestyle. I mean, She rented me a fucking limousine. Just for myself. Like what in the actual fuck. I'm all alone. Why the fuck would you rent me a fucking limousine? Nonetheless, I immediately got inside the limousine, before the driver drove me to the designated spot.

I could look outside my window, The huge palace that was none other than So-hyun's home. The place was huge, Filled with many abstract statues, and trees. The anticipation was palpable as I approached the grand mansion, its facade bathed in a soft, golden glow. Ryujin had been raving about the party So-hyun's was throwing, promising a night of endless fun and extravagance.

As I stepped inside the mansion, I was greeted by a breathtaking sight. The interior was adorned with lavish decorations, each room a masterpiece of opulence. It was clear that So-hyun, the queen bee of Jooshin High, had spared no expense.

Ryujin, beaming with pride, welcomed me and introduced me to her friends. I was surprised to see Wonyoung again, the girl I had met at her family's home, where I had played the piano for them. I hadn't seen her since that day, and I couldn't help but feel a strange mix of excitement and apprehension.

As the night wore on, the party reached a fever pitch. Music blared, laughter filled the air, and people danced with abandon. Ryujin and her friends urged me to join them, offering me shots and a small dose of drugs. I had never done any of these things before, and I was hesitant to try them. But with their encouragement, I reluctantly agreed.

As I took the shot, a wave of warmth washed over me. I felt a sense of euphoria, a carefree abandon that I had never experienced before. The drugs seemed to amplify my senses, making everything feel more intense, more alive.

Wonyoung, meanwhile, had retreated to a secluded area with So-hyun. I watched them from a distance, their faces etched with a mixture of guilt and longing. I knew they were struggling with something, but I couldn't quite figure out what it was.

As the night progressed, I became increasingly tipsy. Ryujin and her friends decided to play Truth or Dare with me, their laughter echoing through the room. I was game for anything, my inhibitions loosened by the alcohol.

When it was my turn, Ryujin dared me to "kiss the person who you think is the hottest and prettiest in this party." I hesitated for a moment, my mind racing. I knew that Ryujin was hoping I would choose her, but my heart was elsewhere.

I walked slowly through the crowd, my eyes scanning the faces around me. Then, I saw her. Wonyoung was sitting alone in a corner, her eyes filled with sadness. Without hesitation, I walked over to her and kissed her.

The room fell silent. Everyone stared at us, their eyes wide with shock. So-hyun's face was a mask of confusion, while Ryujin's expression was one of betrayal.

I pulled away from Wonyoung, my head spinning. I realized what I had done, and I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. I had betrayed Ryujin, and I had humiliated myself in front of everyone.

Wonyoung looked at me, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and hurt. "H-how could you?" she said, her voice barely a whisper.

I tried to explain, to tell her that I didn't mean it. But the words wouldn't come. I was too ashamed, too embarrassed.

As I turned to leave, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It Was Wonyoung. "Wait," she said. "We need to talk."

I followed her to a secluded part of the mansion. We sat down on a couch, facing each other.

"What The Fuck were you thinking," Wonyoung said. "Why The Hell would you kiss me in front of everyone"??

"I-i'm S-sorry" I answered with guilt on my shoulders.

Wonyoung took a deep breath. "What Would Happen if Everyone started to Shipped You & I together." Her voice stern and full of anger.

My heart shnked like the Titanic. I couldn't believe it. I was so stupid and drunk, That I kissed one of the most powerful students in Jooshin High. What would happen to me now.

"Now what are we gonna do?" Wonyoung asked,her voice trembling.

"I-i Don't know.. I-i'm sorry",I answer. "I was drunk as hell wonyoung... I-I didn't mean to".

"But why me?" She asked. "Why do you kiss me and not anybody else"??

"I-i Don't know," Y/n said. "I'm sorry. I was just so... lost. I didn't know what come over me"

As wonyoung and I came back from the secluded area, the air and atmosphere gets more and more intense. People were staring at us. I can only hope that luck was by my side. I hoped that nothing bad would ever happen to me. I just wished that all of those eyes stopped staring at me. As I thought I was gonna be suffocated by the amount of pressure. Someone started to walk in our direction. The sound of the elegant high heel shoes was all that I could hear.

That is until, That person approaches me, before kissing me. I was shocked, I was flabbergasted. Because that person is none other than, So-hyun. The whole crowd immediately stopped partying, As they were shocked at the sudden move. All of the students immediately let out their phone, Before they took pictures and video of me and her. What is going on. What game am I currently being played at. What's gonna happen to me.

To be continued

[the-most-humble-blog]

Humans: The Ultimate Flex—Suck It, Animals and Aliens

Proof We’re the Crown Jewel of Evolution (and Why No One Else Even Comes Close)

Let’s not sugarcoat it: humans are the GOAT species. We’ve got opposable thumbs, complex languages, and the ability to feel existential dread at 2 a.m. over a dumb thing we said in 7th grade. No other species—or hypothetical alien race—has anything on us.

Think I’m exaggerating? Let me prove it with some brain and logic magic that’ll make you want to high-five yourself. Animals? Aliens? They can sit down and take notes.

1. Opposable Thumbs: The OG Superpower

First, let’s talk thumbs. Most animals are stuck with paws, hooves, or tentacles. But humans? We have these magical little appendages that let us write novels, build cities, and scroll endlessly through TikTok.

What Makes Us Special: Our thumbs can touch every other finger, giving us precision grip. That’s why we’re holding smartphones while chimps are still throwing poop.

Think about it: If aliens show up without thumbs, we’re dominating the handshake game.

2. Pattern Recognition: Brain Magic Level 100

Your brain is basically a biological Sherlock Holmes.

You See Faces in Clouds: That’s pareidolia—a fancy way of saying your brain loves patterns so much, it creates them even when they don’t exist.

You Predict the Future: Well, kind of. Your brain analyzes past experiences to anticipate what’s coming next. That’s why you can dodge a falling object or, more importantly, guess the next plot twist in The Bachelor.

Here's a Thought: Meanwhile, a lion can’t even tell that the waterhole is a trap until it’s too late.

3. Language: The Ultimate Mic Drop

Other animals communicate, sure. Dolphins click, bees dance, and your cat meows at you for food. But humans? We’re dropping sonnets, memes, and political debates.

Infinite Combinations: With 26 letters (or however many your language has), we can create endless words and ideas.

Aliens Could Never: If they don’t show up speaking Shakespeare, are they even worth the hype?

Humble Brag: We’re so good at language, we invented emojis to make up for not having enough ways to roast each other.

4. Memory: A Blessing and a Curse

Your brain doesn’t just store information—it rewrites and replays it like a director’s cut of your life.

No Other Animal Remembers Like This: Elephants may never forget, but they’re not lying awake at night cringing over awkward trunk waves.

Your Mind Is a Time Machine: You can travel to the past (memories) and imagine the future (dreams). Animals? They live in the moment like some kind of zen monks.

Fun Flex: Humans can create fictional worlds better than reality. Ever see a dolphin write Game of Thrones? Didn’t think so.

5. Problem-Solving: We Literally Break Physics for Fun

No other species solves problems like we do.

Fire: We didn’t just discover it; we harnessed it.

Tools: We’re the only species that looked at a stick and thought, “Let’s kill something big with this and eat it.”

Space Travel: Meanwhile, most animals don’t even understand up and down.

Alien Diss: If they haven’t figured out intergalactic travel yet, are they really that advanced?

6. Humor: The Ultimate Sign of Intelligence

Here’s the big one: humans laugh.

Why It’s Special: Humor requires recognizing absurdity, connecting ideas, and delivering them with timing.

No Competition: Animals might look funny, but they’re not cracking jokes.

Weird Thought: If aliens can’t meme, do they even matter?

7. Consciousness: The Unbeatable Crown

You’re aware of yourself. You can ask questions like, “Why am I here?” and then immediately distract yourself with cat videos.

No Other Species Has This Level of Meta: Animals act on instinct. You can reflect on your actions—and cringe at them later.

We are our Brain: Sure, consciousness makes us anxious, but at least we’re not stuck chewing cud and staring at nothing.

Humanity Wins, Every Time

So, yeah. Are humans perfect? No. But are we leagues ahead of anything else on Earth—or in the universe (so far)? Hell yes. Our brains, thumbs, and ability to crack dark jokes about it all make us the species to beat.

Animals? Cute, but predictable. Aliens? Call us when they invent sarcasm. Until then, humanity reigns supreme.

Think humans are awesome? (Of course you do—you’re one of us.) Follow The Most Humble Blog for more unapologetic takes and hilariously sharp insights into why we’re the best.

[flowercrowngods]

@steddie-week

part 1 (bc this is one big 7 part story)

day 02: bittersweet & angst

1 new message

eddie The Problem munson: engagement party on saturday babyyyy 🥳🥸🕺

Steve’s been staring at the message for two days now. It's sitting in his notifications, staring at him like a painful reminder of what happened exactly seven days ago. A week. It's only been a week, and Steve somehow it feels like it was both only one day or seven months ago.

It's an almost liminal experience, walking through life without texting Eddie every second of the day – because texting him would mean opening his message. It would make this real.

And that's the last thing Steve wants.

"I'm not going," Robin declares as they're cuddling on the couch, wallowing in their misery as Mayday Parade's Oh Well, Oh Well is playing for the eighth time on repeat. "Tell me you're not going, Stevie."

"Robbie," he sighs, squeezing her tighter as she tries to wriggle out of his arms to glare at him.

"Steve."

"I can't not go."

"Yes you can." She pokes him in the ribs, but he doesn't budge. She pokes him again. "Not going to things is literally the easiest thing in the world. It's a hundred times easier than going to things. You should try it sometime, trust me. You go to too many things, and–"

"Bee," he hums to get her out of the rambling spiral before she can get lost in it.

"What I'm saying," he interrupts herself dramatically, "is that you can't do this to yourself. They're engaged. They're getting married. We're going to keep our distance until our brains and hearts and the traitorous little chemicals in our bodies catch up to reality, and then we get over them, and then we can go back and see them ever again. That's the logical thing to do, Steve. But you can't... You can't just go and get your heart broken and talk yourself into thinking it's the right thing to do. It's not."

Steve sighs into her hair and buries his face in her neck. He knows that. Technically, logically, he does.

But not going feels wrong. Wronger than anything else that's been hollowing out his chest and leaving nothing but emptiness and the ghosts of every smile, every touch, every baby, love, sweetheart, sunshine. Every imaginary future, every scenario where Eddie meant it. Meant those words, meant those smiles, meant it when he took Steve's hand to hold it.

But Eddie did mean it. Every time, he meant it; because he calls Argyle and Jeff and Gareth baby and sunshine and sweetheart, too. He takes their hands, too, leans in to kiss their cheeks and just holds them when he needs to. That's just the kind of person Eddie is. Always has been.

To go and assume he never meant it would be unfair.

To go and hope it could ever mean more when Chrissy has always been right there would just be stupid.

Well, good thing Steve has that kind of reputation with a few people anyway, so it's not even a statistical outlier, that one. It's not even worth a side note.

"I know," he rasps, his eyes beginning to sting as the next lyrics are carved into the empty space of where his heart used to be.

Oh well, oh well I can't live with myself As I'm climbing in your window to get to your bed.

And I'll be what you need, You can call me anything. Just as long as we're still friends.

Tears prickle in his eyes and he doesn't bother to hold them back. Not now, not with Robin. They've both been crying on and off all week, even though Robin took it better than him.

"I know," he sobs, wrapping his arms around her even tighter as she lets herself be held because she knows that's what he needs. "I know, I know, I know. But I have to. I can't just... I can't just stop, Bee."

"I know," she sighs, climbing out of his hold eventually to wrap her arms around him in return as he cries into her shoulder.

The world (read: his Spotify playlist) makes it worse by playing Sum 41's With Me next, ripping out even the newly carved words.

Robin holds him for the rest of the night, even as he finally opens Eddie's message and types out a reply.

—I'll come!

And especially when there's a new message immediately.

—hot 🥵❤️

He leaves Eddie on read after that.

~*~

Saturday rolls around in a haze, and suddenly Steve finds himself looking at the front door of the little house Chrissy inherited after her mother passed a few years ago. It's a nice little house. Quaint. Perfect. Everything Steve could ever dream of, actually. And she deserves it. All of this and more.

There's noise coming from the garden, where people are laughing and having a great time. A happy time, celebrating their friends and all the good things in life that come with a love well placed.

God, what is he doing here? He can't do this. There is no way.

He's just about to pull out his phone and call Robin, tell her he's coming home, or ask her to tell him everything's gonna be alright, when–

"Steve!" Chrissy hurries towards him, throwing her arms around him in a tight, warm, perfect hug. God, he loves her so much. He melts right into the embrace, wrapping his arms around her middle to spin her around with a grin.

She giggles in delight and tells him to let her down again, which only makes him spin for another round, his grin turning into a genuine laugh.

"No, I hate you!" she laughs, but still doesn't step away from him when he puts her down again. Instead, she leans up and brushes a kiss to his cheek. "Hi, asshole."

"Hi."

He grins and takes her hands in his, just smiling at her for another moment before his eyes trail down to a ring he's never seen her wear before. Ah. Right.

"Oh shit! That it?"

"That's it," Chrissy says, looking down at her hand to look at the ring with a fond, happy little smile, her cheeks flushing red. It breaks Steve a little, but it also fixes something inside him to see her so truly, genuinely happy. "Pretty huh?"

"Very," Steve breathes, hiding the lump in his throat with a sound of awe.

Chrissy hugs him again for good measure and then takes his hand to drag him into the backyard the same way she just came out front, through a little gate off to the side instead of through the house.

Steve loves their backyard because it's always covered in sheerly endless colourful strings of light that are wrapped around decorative arches or poles, framing the back doors and the canopy swing set on the lawn, and just give it the most homey and comfortable atmosphere.

"Stevie!" Eddie exclaims immediately and jumps off from his chair, interrupting a conversation he's apparently been having with Argyle and Nancy to run up to him with such a giddy expression that Steve wants to cry. His heart leaps in his chest, coming back to life and saying one last goodbye at the same time.

"Hi," he says, hugging Eddie close before he can so much as think about what he's doing. But no matter how hurt he is, there will never be a world in which he won't want to hug Eddie Munson. "Sorry I'm late."

"No sorries, it's fine," Eddie murmurs into his neck, staying in the embrace endlessly, and Steve takes the chance to breathe him in. He smells so good. So, so good. It clogs his lungs and renders him unable to speak.

But who needs to speak when they have Eddie in their arms? Who needs to speak when all they have to do is never let go?

Eddie squeezes him a little tighter, and Steve wants to cry. He slowly, gently pushes away from the hug and turns towards the other guests, greeting them with a grin, a hug, or a handshake if they're not familiar.

When he gets to Wayne, the man eyes him with a look that Steve doesn't want to read too much, and his embrace is just a little longer, just a little stronger than usual.

“You look tired, son,” he says by way of greeting, and Steve can’t help but snort and shake his head a little.

“Good to see you again, too, old man.”

Wayne eyes him for one moment longer, then breaks into a small smile and pats Steve’s shoulder before stepping around him to go grab another drink.

After that, the night passes in a blur of talking to his friends, trying to understand what the hell it is that has Nancy and Argyle arguing so profusely, but with smiles on their faces. He fails. But it’s good to see them again, so he just basks in it for a while.

Or, he tries, because every second that he’s not talking or listening to someone, his eyes flick back to Eddie. Eddie, who’s lifting Chrissy from behind and smacking a loud, wet kiss to her neck, her jaw and her cheek, accompanied by her delighted squeals and laughter.

Eddie, who’s looking larger than life, a happy grin permanently plastered on his face as he reminds their guests that Chrissy was his bisexual awakening.

“I swear, she just swept me off my feet after years of thinking I was only into dudes. Knew I had to marry her, but man, I don’t know why she said yes.”

“I’m settling, honey,” Chrissy calls from the other end of the table they’re sitting around. “Only in it for that rockstar money and all.”

The whole table laughs at that.

“Hear, hear,” Eddie snorts, lifting his glass in a toast. Steve and the others lift theirs, too, even though Steve’s hand and arm and whole body feels numb and he’s not entirely sure he’s breathing.

A while later, he grabs a drink and retreats to the canopy swing, illuminated in the soft pink flow of the fairy lights wrapped around it. Eddie’s eyes land on him for a second and Steve thinks that he’ll come over and join him — but then one of Chrissy’s friends says something that distracts him and seemingly makes him fall into a monologue of sorts.

Steve watches, feeling only loss and longing as he does. Eddie is a force of nature. A spectacle. Something beautiful, something powerful, something secret that only a select few get to witness. To know. To appreciate.

Staring as he is, blind to the rest of the world, he startles a little when the swing jostles with another weight settling on it. He didn’t see Wayne coming to join him, and he’s not quite sure whether he should be grateful for the company or apprehensive of what the man who’s like a father to him might have to say.

“How are you doing, son?”

He frowns. “I’m alright.”

Wayne only hums, and Steve’s frown deepens. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that tells him Wayne knows something. That he knows.

“Y’know,” he continues after a while, not looking at Steve but rather at his nephew and his fiancée. “I always figured it would be you.”

Steve crumbles. Yeah, me too, he wants to say, but that would be a lie. Watching the way Chrissy sits on Eddie’s lap with his arms around her, his chin on her shoulder as he tells her something that makes her laugh that cute, pretty, adorable laugh that Eddie then can’t help but join — that’s just something Steve would never compare to. Nothing he’d ever want to come in between.

Eddie and Chrissy are perfect. They’re happy. They fit, they match, they work. They worked so hard and treat each other so right.

They look giddy and serene at the same time, and it makes Steve’s eyes sting. Because he can never make Eddie look like that. He can never make Eddie look at him like that.

I always figured it would be you.

But he couldn’t. That bubbly kind of love, the sunshine kind of love. He knows that’s not for him. Steve’s too much for that. He would never be enough for Eddie — even if without Eddie, there’s nothing left of him.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Wayne continues, unaware of Steve’s thought spiral. “I love that girl, I do. Always will. I think she’s too good for Eddie. Don’t tell him I said that,” he adds hastily, and Steve smiles through the tears that threaten to fall again.

“They’re perfect,” he rasps, laughing wetly as Chrissy starts chasing Eddie, who’s hiding behind a very distressed Argyle, who just wants his brochachos to chill!

Maybe it’s a laugh, maybe it’s a sob. He doesn’t have it in him to find out or care.

“They are. Doesn’t mean they’re right, son.”

Steve sighs and tears his eyes away from Eddie. “Wayne.”

“I know, I know.” He lifts his hands in defence. “Shutting up.” After a long pause of holding Steve’s eyes, he asks, “Will you be okay?”

No, he thinks immediately, the lump in his throat too big to say anything. So he just shrugs and swallows. “Sure.”

Maybe. Hardly. Probably not. Definitely not.

"No matter what happens, you'll always be a son to me. You’ll always have a home with an open door with me, you hear me?"

"I’m not going anywhere, wayne," Steve says, though for the first time ever he doesn't really believe that. Maybe he needs to leave. To leave Eddie behind. Get over him. Cut out his heart and leave it here, run away to heal somewhere else, come back as a new person, or just stay away forever.

The thought makes a tear spill as an empty kind of desperation spreads it’s ugly wings inside his chest, and he's too frozen to wipe it away.

"You hear me?" Wayne repeats, gentler this time, but no less urgent for it.

"Yeah," steve rasps. "Thanks."

Another tear falls as Eddie gently pulls Chrissy closer to him and kisses her in the soft glow of the fairy lights above and around them. Their friends cheer. Steve wants to cry his heart out again.

“I—“ he swallows, wiping at his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. I can’t do this, he wants to say. For the first time, that’s what he wants to say. “I think I’m gonna head home soon.”

“You bring your car?”

He shakes his head, feeling foggy and dazed and empty and endlessly, endlessly sad. “Was gonna, uh—“

“Let me drive you.” There’s no room for debate or argument there, and Steve wants to crumble again, but still he shakes his head.

“Wayne, no—“

“I’m taking you, son. Make sure you get home safe, or I won’t be able to sleep tonight. Don’t wanna keep your old man up all night, do ya?”

Steve concedes with a fond eye roll and a grateful smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“That’s what I thought.”

They sit like that for another ten minutes — and if Steve leans into Wayne’s side a little, then that’s nobody’s business but theirs.

The car ride is quiet, but it feels weighted even as Wayne pretends not to see the way Steve keeps wiping at his cheeks as the silent tears keep falling, leaving him powerless to stop them.

I can’t do this, he keeps thinking over and over again.

“Just a little warning,” Wayne speaks up again as he pulls up to Steve’s building. “I think he’s going to ask you to be his best man, Stevie. Don’t do anything you’re not ready for, okay?”

I can’t do this.

He nods, numb again.

“I’ll do anything for him,” he breathes.

“That’s what I’m afraid of, yeah.”

He gets out of the car before he can find out what exactly Wayne means by that. The car stays where it is until the front door closes behind him, until he’s up in his bedroom and finds Robin already asleep.

Ten minutes later, he cuddles close to her and tries hard not to cry, but tonight’s memories have burned themselves into his mind. And he shouldn’t have gone. He knows. He knows.

I’ll do anything. I can’t do this. I’ll do anything. I can’t do this.

He can’t breathe, and Robin holds him through it, whispering sleepily to him as he cries himself to sleep, wishing for a world where he’s not absolutely and utterly in love with Eddie Munson, but failing to imagine one.

I’ll do anything. Anything but this.

tagging: @sexymothmanincarnate @mcneen come back tomorrow for idk which prompt | read part 3 here

[whatsnewalycat]

mindfuck

Dave York x f!Reader

Summary: Dave hypnotizes you.

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 2.8k+

Warnings: hypnokink, not entirely good praxis of hypnosis, humiliation, implied infidelity, praise, smut, unprotected piv, D/s dynamic, dom dave, literal mind fucking so like a bit of body horror get into it

Notes: For @iamasaddie kinky May writing challenge. Prompt was hypnosis + Dave York. I found a lot of inspiration for this from a post in r/EroticHypnosis about mindfucking (can find again if anyone wants the link - lemme know!). Posting this in a hurry bc I am late to a thing so hopefully not tooooo many missed mistakes. OK THANK YOU FOR READING!!!

[ my masterlist ]

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All your life you wished you could turn off your thoughts at will. 

Growing up, on those nights where your crowded head wouldn’t let you sleep, you would imagine twisting off the top of your skull like a jar lid and plopping your brain on the nightstand. It even worked sometimes, too, if you tried hard to convince yourself. When reminders of an upcoming math test or images of that cute boy in class crept into your purview, they had nowhere to go. They evaporated, and you slept. 

Dave says you’re too smart for your own good. Sometimes when you’re lost in thought, he tells you he wants to empty that pretty little head of yours. Not in a condescending way, although you can see how someone might interpret it like that. 

What he means is that he wants you to be with him when you’re with him. What he means is that he wants you to be present. Not thinking about the past or the future. Not reminding yourself of deadlines or analyzing the data stored in your brain or wondering what you mean to him exactly. 

The first time he suggested hypnosis, you balked. Even after he explained how it worked, you were hesitant enough for him to drop the subject. 

When he brought it up again, though, your skepticism swayed. You asked him for more details, so he dispensed the pros and cons and the step process. He could do it for you, he said. He knew how. He said he could rattle the bees from your buzzing honeycomb brain. All you had to do was trust him with this power. 

So you did. 

And you do. 

Your valiant beekeeper meets you at this hotel every other Tuesday night, except on holidays. This isn’t the only one-on-one time he dedicates to you, but it’s by far the most reliable. He doesn’t always hypnotize you, either. 

Regardless of whether he puts you in a trance or not, this standing date always starts the same. He slips you the keycard at some point throughout the day, only after he’s adorned it with a vase full of seasonal blooms and laid out something for you to wear. 

Tonight he left you lilacs and matching lingerie. Intricate floral appliqués embellish the pastel nightie he laid out on the bed. 

Opulence becomes you when you slip it on and pour a glass of champagne from the bottle Dave left to chill on ice. You mosey around the spacious high-end suite, sipping frosty bubbles as you admire the birds-eye view of downtown, the tall buildings and bustling city life all drenched in golden light from the setting sun. 

As the time nears eight o’clock, you empty your champagne flute and make yourself comfortable on the plush bed. Crystals hanging from the chandelier fragment soft white light into dazzling tiny spectrums, sparkling rainbow when the door to the suite opens, then closes. 

Dave enters the room with an air of authority that makes you straighten your spine and draw back your shoulders. After chucking off his jacket, he empties his pockets on the dresser and loosens his tie, then turns around to meet your gaze. 

His stern expression melts as he looks you over, seeming to appraise how your body fills out the lilac nightie. Heat sparks in the middle of you when he greets you, “Hey beautiful.” 

“Hi.” 

He approaches your side and takes a seat at the edge of the bed, rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt, “Comfortable?” 

Nodding, you sit up to pull him in for a kiss. His plush lips respond without hesitation, firm but generous as he slips a wide palm around your body and brings you even closer. 

When he pulls back, he asks, “Are you ready?” 

“Ready.” 

He cradles your jaw, searching your face with blatant admiration before separating his body from yours. You lay back into the soft embrace of the pillows and wiggle around until you find the sweet spot of comfort while Dave drags an armchair to your bedside and sits down. Once you’re both settled and still, he begins. 

“Close your eyes.” 

You close them. 

“Take a deep breath in…”

You take in air until you can’t. 

“…and slowly release it.” 

You exhale, rationing your metered breath through a straw-sized ‘o’ formed by your lips. 

“Good. Take a deep breath in… two three four… and slowly release it. Deep breath in… two three four… now slowly release it.”

Behind closed lids, you concentrate on the rhythmic ebb and flow of your lungs contracting and expanding. His warm voice surrounds you. Envelops you. 

“That’s it. Keep breathing just like this. Each time you inhale, draw the life from your breath, and exhale the rest. Notice how cleansing it feels to let it go. How the tension melts from your muscles every time you take a deep breath in…”

You inhale. 

“…two three four…” 

Hold it. 

“…and slowly release it.” 

Then exhale.

“Perfect. Keep doing that. Now imagine that every time you take a deep breath in, a warm wave washes over you… and as you slowly release it, the tide carries away tension, allowing your muscles to soften and relax…”

Each big lungful heats the tar holding your body together. You dissolve into the mattress as Dave’s deep, honeyed voice resonates through you. 

“Again, take a deep breath in as the warm wave of relaxation washes over you, two three four… and slowly release it as the tide carries away your tension, allowing your muscles to soften and relax. Concentrate on my voice. Recognize it as a touchstone. If your mind starts to wander, have it return to the touchstone, return to my voice, and relax even deeper.” 

Trees tower above you, stretching high into the pale blue sky. The moss-covered rock before you glows as he speaks. 

“Notice how relaxed you feel. Notice that every time the warm wave of relaxation washes over you, two three four… tension melts from your body as you allow yourself to sink deeper and deeper into the sensation. Allow the relaxation to seep from your muscles into your bloodstream… to course through your veins and calm every cell in your body.

“Focus on your face. All those tiny little muscles in your forehead and around your eyes, notice how relaxed they are. Notice how the relaxation melts the muscles in your cheeks and jaw, letting your mouth go slack. You might feel as though you want to speak, but find yourself so relaxed that you can’t. That’s ok, because it feels good and safe to let the words dissolve on your tongue. Doesn’t it?” 

When you try to respond, your lips don’t move. This fact doesn’t bother you. It feels good and safe in the forest, staring up at the treetops. 

You realize you’re floating in a pond. You hear birds peacefully chirping and know it’s just you and them and the touchstone for a million miles. 

Everything feels profound, but simple. You are small and big like a speck of dust or a galaxy. You are safe. You are at peace. 

“Doesn’t it feel so good to relax, darling?” 

Your fingertips rest against the soft moss of the touchstone. 

“Yes, it does,” you tell it. 

It glows with a satisfactory hum that vibrates through you.  

“Perfect. Continue to focus on my voice. Soon, I will ask you to open your eyes, then close them. When you close your eyes, you’ll notice a warm wave of relaxation washing over you, turning knots into snarls and snarls into strands, every muscle in your body gently untangling as you allow them to go limp and heavy…”

You understand and follow his instructions. 

“Open your eyes and take a deep breath in, two three four… and slowly release it, closing your eyes, letting the warm wave wash over you and pull you in deeper. 

“Soon, I’ll ask you to open your eyes again. When you close them, you’ll notice the warm wave of relaxation wash over you even stronger than before, pulling you even deeper. 

“Open your eyes, two three four… and close your eyes, sinking deeper and deeper. Good job. We’ll do it one more time, and when you close your eyes and relax, sink as deep as you can, all the way to the bottom. Open your eyes, two three four… and close your eyes.” 

You’re lying in a meadow of wildflowers outside the forest, looking up at the serene blue sky. The earth beneath you is solid and brings you an immense sense of comfort. 

“I want you to think about desire. Think about that warm, lush longing inside you. Concentrate on how good this sensation feels in your body, pleasure swelling thick at the center of you.”

His voice surrounds you, but you don’t see its source. The soothing timbre resonates from the wildflowers and the earth and the sky, from everywhere and nowhere all at once like how you imagine God sounded to Old Testament prophets. 

You bring your focus to desire. It does feel good. Amazing, actually. Tangible like a glowing ball of heat between your thighs that throbs with each syllable he speaks. 

“Allow the sensation to grow. Let it stretch and pulse and heat your skin. Let your mind empty of everything except this arousal. When thoughts arise, you let them fall away and arousal fills the empty space. You’ll let this happen over and over again until your head is empty of everything but arousal. Do you understand? You can speak now, darling, go ahead and answer.” 

“Yes.” 

“Try it for me.” 

You acknowledge the cognitions that populate your mind. When you think about how you need to put gas in your car, you imagine the reminder dropping away, then imagine the warm wanting glow of desire branching up through your body to take its place. You think about a work project, but it loosens and falls into an abyss. Desire floods the space in its wake, a thick hot liquid that glows with light like lava, spreading to each new vacancy with ease as the thoughts drop from your consciousness. 

“How does it feel?” 

“Good,” you breathe, voice faint on your tingling tongue. 

“Do you like how it feels, being horny and mindless?” 

Your husband’s face appears, taking up your whole mind, then falls away. Rich, bubbling pleasure surges through you to fill the gap. You have to suppress a moan to respond. 

“I like it,” you nod, “Fuck, it feels amazing.” 

“Good girl. Now, you might notice something interesting happen when I ask you a question. You might notice that when I ask you a question, you’ll try to form a thought to answer. When you do this, you’ll feel my cock enter your mind. It’s bigger and harder than you’ve ever seen it, swollen and thick and so fucking ready for you, darling. When you try to form a thought, it pushes forward into the wet hot folds of your brain, severing the connections that typically allow you to think, preventing a response from forming. My cock pulls out, and slowly thrusts forward again, pushing out the thoughts, over and over for as long as you consider a response to my question. It becomes impossible to focus. You might notice that this penetration feels like it would in your pussy. My hard cock rutting in and out, sending waves of arousal through your body, fucking the thoughts from your head. Every time my cock moves, you’ll try to respond but cannot make yourself focus. It feels amazing. You give in to the sensation, allowing it to overtake you completely. When you’re fully saturated with arousal and nothing else, my cock pulls out of your mind.” 

Your skin feels static and warm when you imagine him pushing his smooth, throbbing length into your brain. A shaky whimper croaks in your throat. Your heart thuds heavy within your chest, circulating desire, warm and wet, to every cell in your body. 

“You might notice that when I ask you another question, any attempts at thought or sensations that come up except arousal will be fucked from your head until you surrender to the arousal. It feels good to be dominated in this way. To let pleasure consume your entire being.” 

Licking your lips, you nod to show you understand.  

“Now when I ask you a question, you’ll allow your subconscious to follow my instructions. Are you ready, darling?” 

“Yes.” 

“How was your day?” 

When you try to recall your day and formulate an answer, the tip of his cock pierces the equator of your brain, splitting the hemispheres. He drives forward slowly, steadily, making you moan as he stretches you apart and tears all those delicate tissues that generate thought. Still, you try. 

My day, how was my day…

He drags his cock out, then drives it deeper inside you. 

Day… how was…

Your nerve endings buzz as he pulls out, gooey arousal shines on the shaft of his thick cock. He plunges forward into the hot center of you. You work your hips and whine. You can’t remember what he asked. It doesn’t seem as important as the pleasure clinging to your insides as he fucks you, so you give up. 

His cock pulls out of your mind completely. 

“What’s the weather supposed to be like tomorrow?” 

You consider the question. The tip of him breaches your brain, forcing out forecasts and clouds and sunshine. Fragments return as you attempt to answer again. 

The weather tomorrow…

He pumps in and out of you, obliterating whatever it was he wanted to know. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except the insatiable pleasure thrumming through you as he rubs against all your hungry nerves, giving them what they want. 

“Oh my god,” you hear yourself gasp. 

“How often do you think about fucking me?” 

Seeds of embarrassment sprout the tender beginnings of thought, then he fucks them out of your head until you’re rolling your hips, moaning and nodding for more. 

“Do you make yourself come when you think about fucking me?” 

Only a loading screen appears before he’s inside you again. His perfect, thick cock pumps you full of this throbbing heat. You wish it would never end. You want to feel this and only this forever. 

“That’s it, that’s my good girl. So horny and mindless for me. Letting my cock push deep and hard into the folds of your brain, fucking out all your thoughts, leaving your head empty to stuff you with arousal until you’re swollen and ripe, nothing else left but how fucking horny you are.” 

“Sssooooo fucking gooood,” you slur. 

“How would your husband feel if he saw you like this? In this hotel room, all dressed up in lingerie I bought for you, moaning and writhing on the bed?” 

A thought starts, and he pounds it out of you, merciless in its rhythm as each thrust pushes you higher and higher. Horny and mindless, that’s all you are. Nothing matters except this.

“Do you really think we’ll run away together? Do you really think I’d leave my wife for you?” 

A rotten sensation tingles in your chest before you feel him enter you from both ends, the cock in your mind working in tandem with the cock in your pussy. You choke out a moan and nod, body vibrating with a thick, hot sensation you can’t find the beginning or end of. 

“Fuck fuck fuck, holy fuck—” 

He groans, rolling his hips faster, fucking your entire being so hard and fast that you become pleasure itself. It’s everything and everywhere for eternity and you gladly accept this fact, wanting to forever exist in this moment. 

“That’s so good, darling. So fucking good. You want me to let you come, don’t you?” 

You nod frantically as the edges of you start to fray.

“Go ahead, come for me.” 

His permission completely unravels you, ripping away the last delicate thread holding you together. You sob as you fall apart into a thousand pieces. His hips stutter and he moans, giving you a few deep thrusts before pulling out. 

Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath. You float in the peaceful pond, staring up at the towering treetops that kiss the sky. 

“Now in a minute, I’ll bring you back to your normal state. When I count to four and tell you to wake up, you’ll come out of the trance relaxed and refreshed. Your mind will feel spotless. You’ll know that I adore you and hold you close to my heart.”

You hear birds peacefully chirping. You know it’s just you and them and Dave for a million miles. You are small and big like a speck of dust or a galaxy. You are safe. You are at peace. 

“And one two three four… wake up.”

[milkteabinniechan]

Ok but…Camera shy reader, is always the one to take photos in social situations, gets so stressed whenever she sees one. Hyunjin offers to help her feel more comfortable in front of the camera, to show her how to get her angles, to do it somewhere private, somewhere comfortable. Cue erotic, tense photoshoot that quickly deteriorates, friends2lovers situation or even enemies2lovers, or just starting to date, I trust your vision

Yes yes yes absolutely!!!

♡ Perfection Captured - Hwang Hyunjin

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY // members // m.list

Just smile for me.

His camera fluttered and the flash blinked before your eyes. You could feel your stomach twist in knots. His camera lens staring at you with an obnoxious, inky black hold that threatened to swallow you whole. "I can't" you whispered under your breath.

"Yes you can." his voice soothed you. Your shoulders softened. You turned your head towards the camera and smiled.

You strolled down the block to Hyunjin's apartment. Spring was gone and summer had pushed it's way through the clouds and trees. Flowers bloomed and kissed the bees that buzzed and floated by.

You let yourself in as you always did, only to find an empty living room and empty kitchen.

"Hello?" You called out to echoed halls.

"I'm in here!" Hyunjin responded from his bedroom. You waited in the living room. Although you and Hyunjin were good friends, you had never been in his bedroom nor had you asked to go in. Hyunjin rounded the corner and gave you a mischievous look.

"I have a surprise for you, come here." His finger curled and dragged you in towards him. You hesitated at the thought of going in his room, at the implications. But Hyunjin insisted and continued to pull you in with an invisible rope tied around his finger.

His room was warm with personal paintings and posters on the wall. He had a few plants by the window and a splattered palette and easel nestled next to it. A simple four walls comforted you and embraced you in a way that felt familiar. You looked towards the bed to see a white sheet nailed to the wall and a camera set up, facing the sheet.

"...No." You said low. You recognized this little set up from 10 years of picture day. You swiftly made your way towards the door. Hyunjin put his body between you and the exit. His arm at the doorframe, he locked eyes with you. His face was pleading with you before he even spoke a word.

"Please... Give it a chance."

You turned your head reluctantly to the bed again.

"Those pictures I took of you the other day..." His words lingered as he stared deep into you. He felt passionately about this, you had known him long enough to recognize when he really wanted to make a point.

"You're... Gorgeous. Please let me show you what I see." His hands motioned to the bed with the nailed bed sheet. You groaned loudly to let him know your uncertainty. He chuckled and set himself up comfortably behind the camera.

You sat down on his bed. The bounce of the mattress springs lifting you up and back down in one quick motion. You steadied yourself and tried to look cool and effortless, but you know your body portrayed the opposite. You pushed your hair behind your ear and attempted to smile. However, your brain knew how weird this whole thing was. Your eyes drifted up towards Hyunjin's.

The smile across is face was undeniable. He looked not only happy but... prideful. He looked at you the way he looked at a painting, at a sculpture. You had taken many trips with him to art museums and he had shown you his very favorite pieces. You had watched his face light up and his eyes swell at the beauty of the experience before him. That same expression was reflected here, now, for you.

Your face flushed a crimson red as you noticed Hyunjin's eyes wander down your body. You had never felt so desirable before. It felt as if he was looking directly through you, underneath your clothes, to the bare flesh beneath. You squirmed at the thought of being naked in front of him. You'd known Hyunjin for a long time. You'd also known the girls he had been with. Tall, skinny, gorgeous women that had made you feel like a lump of dirt. But in this moment, you felt like a painting being adored. Hyunjin couldn't keep his eyes off you.

"How's this?" You flutted innocently with a quick turn of your waist. Hyunjin lifted his head from the camera slowly and stared.

"That's great..." his tone slightly stunned at the curves you presented to him.

Hyunjin carefully moved away from the camera and towards you on the bed. Like a predator hunting his prey, his eyes never left your face. He watched you methodically move your body back onto the middle of the mattress while he took his rightful place on top of you. His eyes were like deep pools that welcomed you into warm, inviting waters. Your clothes trickled off you like rain as Hyunjin kissed the newly exposed bare skin.

"Let me show you how beautiful you are." His voice was deep and echoed into the crook of your neck. You felt your very bones shatter at the promise as his long, slender fingers pulled your legs apart.

Both hands gripped either thigh as his head nuzzled in between the soft, plush flesh that awaited him. Sticky and desperate, your cunt beckoned to him like the first day of summer. His moans played into your body like a tune from a forbidden instrument even the God's themselves dare not play. You grabbed his hair as some kind of tether to reality while you let the rest of your earthly body float to the heavens and dance amongst the stars.

Orgasm after orgasm fell upon his bed covers as he repeated the word beautiful again and again. You didn't even wonder how the photos had turned out. You didn't even ask to see them. You just let Hyunjin feast on the meal that he had been starving for. You had never felt more beautiful.

[derangedsynthpop]

because barbie

written for @bucktommywinterfest Halloween warm up round

prompt: couples costumes

rated: T

tags: halloween costumes, horny buck, smitten tommy, banter

word count: 824

[read below or on AO3]

Summary:

Buck and Tommy try to figure out what to wear to a 118 Halloween party.

***

"I am not wearing that."

"What? Aw, c'mon, Tommy. Please?" Buck tilts his chin down to look at Tommy through his lashes with a pout.

"Absolutely not. And put those sad puppy eyes away, Evan, they won't change my mind."

"Okay, fine," Buck huffs. Taking one more look at the picture on his phone, he frowns, silently mourning what could have been, and shuts the screen off. "Then what would you suggest?"

They're sitting cross-legged on his bed, facing each other, and trying to decide what to wear to the Halloween party Bobby and Athena are throwing at their new house. Buck feels like they've been going back and forth over it for hours, when in actuality, it's only been about ten minutes.

"Okay," Tommy grins wickedly, doing that little excited wiggle he does that Buck adores. "You already know I have the whole get-up to do Han Solo..."

Buck raises an eyebrow at that, instantly intrigued. "And who would I be?"

"Well, I think you would look really hot in a slave Leia costume."

The images that Buck's mind conjures has blood rushing to his face and his heartrate skyrocketing. "I, um-- Uh, wow," he says a bit breathlessly. "I... wow."

Tommy laughs, cupping Buck's face in his hands. He gives Buck a quick peck on the lips. "Did I break your brain?"

"Mhm."

"You know I wouldn't actually ask you to wear that in front of your friends and family, right? Unless you really wanted to."

Buck breaks out of his daze to say, "Hey, they're your friends and family, too, Tommy."

Tommy gives him another quick kiss. "I know. I just also knew phrasing it like that would get your brain back to the present."

Buck rolls his eyes affectionately. "Okay. So, I'm definitely not wearing a slave Leia costume. Outside of sexy time, that is. And, I don't know... Princess Leia, or even General Leia, just isn't sparking anything."

"Bee and bee keeper?"

"Too soon."

"Milk and cookies?"

"Too cliche."

"Shaggy and Scooby?"

"Too many invasive questions about our sex life."

"Ghostbusters?"

"Ehhh..."

Tommy sighs. "Evan, we have to pick something in the next few days or we'll be the only ones without costumes."

"Ughhhh," Buck groans, dropping his head back. "Why is this so haaarrd?" His head shoots back up. "Oh! Hard! Maybe sex will help me think."

Buck reaches for Tommy's pants, but Tommy grabs his wrist. "No. No sex until we figure something out."

"Oh, you are evil."

Tommy grins big, his eyes crinkling and nose scrunching up all adorable, taking Buck's hand and bringing it to his lips. Buck is helpless against that smile, blushing as he returns a small smile of his own. "Angel and devil?" Tommy asks, and kisses Buck's knuckles.

"May...be...? It's a solid contender, at the very least."

"Alright!" Tommy claps his hands together. "Finally, we're getting somewhere."

"Ooh, one of us could be the Rubber Man from American Horror Story." Buck waggles his eyebrows, biting his lip as he looks Tommy up and down.

Tommy gives him a look. "What was that about too many question about our sex life?"

"Relax, Babe, I was kidding." Buck pats Tommy's leg. Then he grins, and adds, "Mostly."

"Brat."

Buck sticks his tongue out, like the mature adult he is. Tommy flicks the tip of his nose, then kisses it to soothe the slight sting.

"Okay, well what about pirates? Cowboys?" Tommy asks.

"Hmm, I was a cowboy for the Haunt Fest. I don't want to just repeat that. But you in assless chaps? Yes, please."

"Evan."

"What?"

"You're picturing me in assless chaps, a cowboy hat, and nothing else, aren't you?"

"Absolutely," Buck says like it would be ridiculous to think otherwise.

Tommy shakes his head, a fond look on his face.

"Cop and robber?" Buck suggests. "I'll let you cuff me."

Tommy quirks a brow. "Like you don't already?"

Buck snickers. "Okay, okay. For real this time. Um, what about... Oh! Barbie and Ken. In their cowgirl and cowboy oufits."

"I thought you didn't want to be a cowboy again? What makes this any different?"

"Because Barbie."

"Alright," Tommy raises his hands in surrender. "But why not Ken and Ken?"

"Why would be both be Ken?"

"Because... we're both men?"

"Tommy," Buck looks at him like he's grown a second head. "It's Barbie and Ken, not Ken and-- Wow. Nope. No. That came out all wrong. I sound like a homophobe."

Tommy laughs. "We could be Alan and Ken."

"So you don't want to see me in a sparkly hot pink cowgirl outfit?"

"I--" Tommy starts, stopping abruptly, his cheeks heating. "I don't not want to see you in a sparkly hot pink cowgirl outfit."

"So... Barbie and Ken?" Buck gives a sly smile.

Tommy nods in agreement. "Barbie and Ken it is."

"And... sex now?"

Tommy bursts out laughing, grabbing Buck's face to kiss him. "Yes, baby, sex now."

"Yeehaw!"

[dead-boys-club]

†  in the maze : il dottore.

❥ scenario: like a mouse ❥ uuuuuhhhh... there might be triggers, i just genuinely don't know how to address them here. one part makes it sound like there was assault but - no, there was none. ever. just to clarify. toxic things. ❥ i don't have any beta readers - you get what you get.

the hum of machines and flickering of monitors filled the lab, creating a familiar lullaby to your nerves. you stood in the center, eyes following dottore as he worked with his usual calculated precision and occasional annoyed huff. the air was thick with the smell of various chemicals and metal, a reminder to you of the experiments conducted at the hands of your partner; you didn't let your mind wander to how many lives had been lost in the room. though the room seemed cold and hostile, it had been your home longer than any other.

as he adjusted settings on a nearby device, he glanced over to you, his gazed sharp and analytical, studying you for a moment. 'you're unusually quiet today, little mouse,' he remarked, voice smooth but still holding that ever present edge of condescension. the nickname felt like a bee sting with how he said it, like it was meant to be comforting but somehow always came out frayed at the edges.

you thought for a moment before hesitating, your question coming out barely above a whisper. 'why do you call me that? little mouse.. what does it mean to you..?'

dottore paused, fingers hovering above a set of test tubes, filled to different degrees with liquids you didn't dare question. as you watched him, a small, almost amused smile formed on his features before his full attention was set on you. 'you're a curious one today. how intriguing.'

his focus on his project was gone as he began to circle you in the lab, steps echoing against cold tile and empty walls. his gaze never left you, leaving you to feel like a specimen under a microscope - you weren't proud to say it was an awfully familiar feeling. 'you see,' he began, surprisingly conversational, 'it's because, in many ways, that's what you are to me.'

the words hung in the air, heavy with implication. he continued to circle, like a predator stalking it's prey, eyes shining with curiosity and something you could only say was much darker. part of your brain had gone several years with the same sirens and red alerts to leave and run - it was no different standing in that spot feeling like roadkill to a vulture. 'a mouse is a creature that lives in a maze, scurrying through paths laid out for them, guided by one dominant hand. it's a creature that belongs solely to the one who controls the maze.'

he stopped, only for a second, to gesture around the room. 'i built this maze and you, my dear, are no different than a mouse.. bound to my creation and my control.'

you felt a shiver go down your spine as his words echoed in your thoughts. there was a cold logic to his explanation, one that made it clear how he viewed you more often than not - you weren't a person, you were something to be studied. to be controlled. but, you couldn't help but often by confused by his actions towards you. if you were simply a mouse, why were you kept so well?

he watched you and how the words began to sink in before gesturing downward towards your ankle with a gloved hand. 'the mark on your ankle.. do you remember how you got it?'

you frowned. the only thing you could recall from seeing it was.. him. a good feeling. you shook your head, uncertain about wanting his answer.

a satisfied smile curled onto his lips and he knelt down, reaching to brush his fingertip against the scarred skin. 'how could you not remember such a passionate night? it was when you first arrived here, my love,' he said the name so mockingly and it made your skin crawl. he had said it before and it gnawed at the back of your mind to figure out why. 'this mark - these teeth marks - are mine. a reminder to you and everyone else that you belong to me. it's a scar that ensures no one else dares to interfere in what is mine.'

you stared for a moment, thoughts jumbled and scattered, realization slowly dawning on you. a passionate night...? you had never questioned the mark before, never truly worried about it, but now, with his explanation, everything felt disturbingly clear. there were things from your first days with the fatui that didn't seem to exist in your memory - only mild feelings. most of which had grown your affection for the latter. but you frowned as you realized the scar wasn't just that - it was a brand; a symbol of ownership.

'don't be upset now, little mouse.. you asked for it, that is where you wanted it.' the confidence behind his words only proved to make you more curious, looking at him for a moment. 'memories are easily tampered with when you know what you're doing.. some things, they don't need to be remembered - it can make things messy but don't worry, nothing happened that you didn't want. i promise you that.'

you'd gotten to a point of not knowing how to take his words and just stayed quiet.

straightening to his full height as he came to a stop in front of you, he reached to nudge your chin up. 'you are in my maze, mouse, and every path you take is one i have designed. you are my experiment, my project, and no one else's.' there was a possessive edge to his words that made you furrow your brow but you never looked away, trying to answer unspoken questions in his gaze.

as if sensing your unease, his expression softened, though just slightly. 'i do care for you, in my own way,' he continued, voice lower, almost contemplative. 'you are important to me, more than just a subject. you hold my interest... i am.. hm, attached, even. but you must understand, my affection is not like that of others. it is intwined with curiosity, the need to explore and understand you so completely and on a level that even you, yourself, become confused.'

his gloved hand shifted to rest gently at your cheek, his attempt at showing affection to ease the nerves. 'you belong to me, little mouse. and as long as you remain here, in my maze, you will be safe, taken care of. but you must never forget your place as my possession.'

the word 'love' never passed his lips and you knew his need to own you should have made you leave but there was something in the way he looked at you- something that hinted at some twisted form of love. it was born from control, curiosity and the need to keep you close, even if that closeness was defined by his boundaries alone. as you glanced behind him, through him, even, you thought back to the countless subjects that had lost their lives by his hand and decided that if you meant nothing, you wouldn't be standing there. let alone, sharing your life with his in such a close manner.

you nodded, deciding that words weren't necessary. in dottore's world, love was not tender or gentle; it was a form of ownership and control and understanding every facet of the one who had captured his interest. he was kind enough to dip down and press a kiss to your head. 'do not let it sit for too long.' his way of telling you not to worry and you appreciated it, despite still being a little lost.

as he stepped back, returning to his work, you were left with the weight of his word and comforting tingle of the kiss. you thought, though, over being stuck in his maze - trapped, studied.. taken care of but strangely, undeniably, important to him.

[slytherinshua]

hi it's me again! hope ur day's been good, wasn't going to send more asks for a while since the last one but since you were asking for more soft thoughts AND make it magical this time, i had to 😣 thought of being like a village person who is very adamant that fairies exist and while strolling thru the field one day you just find yushi/sunoo laying there and surrounded by flowers and even tho u don't k anything abt him u make it ur thorough mission to accuse him of being a fairy and he's SOO mad at this bcuz not only were u rlly cute about it but he also was a fairy and he's not about to reveal himself bcuz he thinks ur cute 😭😭

SKDJKS STOP GOODBYE THIS IDEA IS SOOOO FUCKING CUTE??? okok i'm gonna do yushi bcuz i love yushi but this is also reminding me of my jaehee fic im writing lmfao cause he is a fairy in that as well although its a stardew valley au not magical BUT YUSHI AS A FAIRY!! wc: 1k. genre/warnings: fairy au. reader is very excitable. not proofread and soft thoughts so it's very very messy be warned this is really just a jumble of thoughts.

fairies were always shrouded in secrecy, especially in your village which was right next to a forest thought to be home to many magical creatures. the village leaders banned anyone from going into the forest due to its dangerous nature, but you've always wondered about it. there were a few books on fairies, but all the information in them was unconfirmed and more speculation than fact. some even swore that fairies were completely made up and didn't exist in the real world, but you always liked to imagine that they did, and maybe they even lived among you.

so, ever since you were little, you started to imagine your own version of what fairies would be like. of course, they would be breathtakingly beautiful and gentle. they would have magical powers and glitter in the sunlight. their presence would be so harmonious and lovely that even butterflies would flock to their side. maybe they could grow flowers with the touch of a finger or could fly around with butterfly like wings? your imagination was truly endless, especially when you were little. but once you got to schooling age, you started to get made fun of for your obsession with the mythical creatures.

although you insisted that they were real, your classmates just laughed at the idea, telling you to not kid yourself with fictional fantasies. but no one was ever able to truly shut you up about the idea. you still daydreamed about fairies unabashedly, no matter what anyone else thought about them. to you, they were real.

after an annoying encounter with a guy in the village who seemed adamant on winning you over, you decided to take a stroll through the flower field to clear your head. cursing the guy under your breath wasn't helping as much as you would've liked. not only was he ugly, and full of himself, he was also downright rude. you definitely weren't going to let him sour the entire rest of your day.

pink, blue, and yellow flowers were blooming all over the field. butterflies and bees buzzed around happily, caring to the sweet-smelling blossoms. you saw that the butterflies seemed to keep flying to one particular spot in the field. it piqued your curiosity, so you made your way over to that part.

immediately, your fantasies about fairies came flooding back to your brain the second you saw the boy lying on the ground. his ginger hair lay over his forehead perfectly, and light freckles adorned his pink cheeks. he was simply beautiful. the second you saw him, your breath was completely taken away. you were sure that if fairies existed, he must be one of them.

"so you do really exist? you aren't just fantasy." a grin spread to your face as you mumbled under your breath. you had been trying to not disturb the sleeping boy, but his eyes flew open as the words left your mouth. maybe fairies had supernatural hearing?

the boy sat up hurriedly, "what? me?" he blinked in confusion, finger pointing back at himself in question. a butterfly landed on his hand and he gently swatted it away, face heating up in embarrassment.

he would've been upset at his nap getting interrupted, but one look at you and all annoyance dissipated. you were really pretty. as a fairy, he really should've been more worried about coming into contact with humans, but it was too late to think about that now. you had seen him, and it wasn't like a vanishing spell was going to last long enough for him to get back to the forest. plus, there was no way you would suspect that he was a fairy. most people didn't even believe they existed nowadays. he was surely safe-

"you're a fairy, aren't you!?"

oh.

his eyebrows furrowed, "no. fairies aren't even real, why would you think that?" gaslighting was never his strong suit, but it was worth a shot either way, right?

"can you do any magic? can you grow flowers?" you didn't seem to have even heard his attempt at refuting you, as you were quick to throw a flurry of questions at him. what scared him the most was how accurate they were. how did you know so much about fairies?

"n-no, i said i wasn't-" he stuttered, interrupted by you shoving a flower in his face.

"try fixing it." you said simply before pulling off some of the flower petals. yushi's heart clenched slightly at the sight. he so badly wanted to reach out and repair it. the poor flower didn't deserve to die. but that would mean outing himself. the risk wasn't worth it.

you sighed as the boy just stared at you blankly, "so you really aren't a fairy? then why do you look like one?" you sat down on the grass with him, arms crossed over your chest in annoyance.

"how do you know what fairies look like? have you ever seen one?"

"well... no." you huffed in exasperation. he was right. "but you look exactly how one would expect fairies to look like! even butterflies can't stay away from you."

it was frankly unfair at how adorable you sounded trying to justify it, especially since yushi knew you were entirely right in your assumption. he could already imagine the look of pure joy and astonishment that would bloom on your face if you heard that he really was a fairy as you suspected.

would it really be so bad to reveal himself?

"what's your name, by the way? i'm y/n."

yushi thought for a second, weighing his options. he could tell you his name and that he was a fairy. he could tell you his name and leave you questioning whether he was a fairy of not. or, he could try to find a way out of the conversation altogether. he rather hated the last option. deciding that the second option was both the safest, and left him plenty of options, he went with it.

"...i'm yushi."

↳ nct wish taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @lexeees,, @nyukyusnz,, @planetkiimchi,,

@haecien,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @hursheys,, @mjupis,,

@lilly-cherry7

[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

Hello! I wanna know how would the tfa bots, elite guard and cons react to meeting a female bot who's based off the batmobile(any version is fine) came to life by an allspark fragment.

And maybe developing a crush on her.

I imagine this bot being confident, capable, serious, determined, a bit mysterious and a 100% certified badass. She's the bot version of Batman.

-Optimus feels so bad about his crush because he doesn't think he deserves someone like her. She's so much better than him and he would surely just be a liability to her. That is if she would even accept his feelings to begin with, were he ever to confess to her. Which he won't. He would rather keep all those feelings locked inside rather than air them out and risk getting his spark broken. After all, she's so involved with her job, one that he greatly respects, that he doubts she would even give him a chance. Doesn't stop him from staring at her with goo goo eyes whenever she swings by. Immediately volunteers to help her with whatever case she's working on, partially because he actually wants to help but also so he can protect her (though he knows she can take care of herself).

-Back when he was young, Ratchet dated quite a lot. Most of them were lighthearted, not so serious relationships. Thing was, there was a time in his life when he had a clear type; a bit cold, capable and deadly bots that could beat him up and reassemble him into a weapon if they wanted to. Now' Ratchet hasn't dated anyone for a long time and so he thought he was over this phase. Turns out, no, and now he's got a major crush. He's so tired and frustrated with himself because of it but he's also kinda thinking "yeah, I still got good taste" whenever he thinks about it. Fusses over her injuries whenever she gets back from a case or battle.

-Bumblebee thinks she's so cool but also really intimidating. Because of this, whenever he tries to act smooth or flirt he kinda ends up stumbling over his words or forgetting his next line, simply because his nerves makes his brain short circuit. When his words fail, Bee tries to impress her with his actions. By helping her with her cases, whatever she asked him or not, he tries to prove to her that he's a reliable guy, someone that can keep up with her.

-Bulkhead can't help but idolize her in a way and think of her as invincible. She's just so capable, always so calm and collected. She's like a real hero should be! He can't help but blush just thinking about her, imagining how it would be if she were to ever save him from danger (a damsel in distress kinda scenario). She's his new muse when it comes to art, his usual choice of bright colors creating an interesting contrast with her darker color scheme. Too shy to actually show these to her though.

-Being a cyber-ninja, Prowl is used to being the one slinking around in the shadows, stalking people and so on. But now he sometimes finds himself joined by this new bot, crouched over next to him, silent except for maybe a quiet greeting. And being so close to her, shoulder to shoulder, in the dark... well, he can't help but feel a bit distracted. She values justice but believes in mercy and forgiveness and Prowl finds that not just admirable, but beautiful. He values those quiet moments they have together, even if the intimacy is just in his head.

-Ultra Magnus wants her to join the autobots, simple as that. She would be a great asset. Not only is she capable, she's determined and with a great sense of what's right and wrong. He tells her this many times, putting emphasis of how many people she could help if she became an autobot. What he doesn't say, is how he also would be able to see her more. As a Magnus, Ultra will probably never conjux, as it would put his partner in great danger. But just being close to her, to work with her, would make him happy. She would never need to know of the feelings she inspire within him.

-Similar to Bumblebee, Sentinel finds her slightly intimidating. But that just makes her hotter in his optics. He finds her mysterious aura alluring and the fact that she keeps her distance to most people only makes him more curious. Tries to lay it on thick when he flirts with her but her blunt attitude and confidence makes him stumble. She just seems to unimpressed that it makes him feel awkward, out of place. This only motivates him to try harder though (he will never succeed).

-Jazz loves how much she cares about people. Yeah, she might seem cold and detached but the fact that she works so hard to help everyone, even bad guys, proves that she just wants to help. Her humble attitude and devotion to her cause is inspiring and makes Jazz want to be a better person. The fact that she believes in change and rehabilitation of criminals makes him question the legal system on Cybertron, where 'bad guys' are just thrown in jail.

-Both Jetfire and Jetstorm thinks she's the coolest bot in the universe, no doubt about it. Everything she does is just so effortlessly cool and they find themselves geeking out whenever they hear how she helped someone or beat up some bad guys. Not at all put off by her standoffish attitude and clings to her, complimenting her discreet paint job and unique alt mode. They gush to each other about how cool she is.

-More than anything, Megatron respects her. She's proven herself in every way; as a combatant, as a strategist, as a leader and as an intellectual. Because of this, she is one of the rare people that Megatron sees as an equal. He doesn't try to manipulate her, not like he does with everyone else, knowing that she can see right through it. Wishes he could turn her into a decepticon, maybe even his conjux, but respects her too much to assume that he could achieve that. Her will is like his own, unbreakable, and while it's a shame they have to be enemies, he finds it truly enjoyable to challenge her. (Batman/Joker dynamic except the Joker is arguably more sane).

-Fuuuuck, Starscream is trying so hard to be the Catwoman to this Batman it's almost not funny. Like, she catches him, puts him in handcuffs and the entire time he's like "oh no, foiled again by my most beautiful nemesis, are you sure there's no way I can convince you to let me go?". Does he want to be caught? No. Yes? He hates failing but he loves getting roughhoused by this bot in dark armor. Never stops trying to seduce her to his side.

-Blitzwing get's beat up and the entire time he's thinking "this ain't so bad" because at least he's getting beat up by his crush. While her sense of justice is, admittedly, a bit annoying, it's also so funny because that makes her easier for Random to tease. Not to mention there's nothing more hot than verbal sparring with your crush. Hothead is the one that's most enthusiastic about getting beat up.

-LUGNUT IS LOYAL TO HIS BELOVED CONJUX, STRIKA, AND WOULD NEVER BETRAY HER TRUST BY FALLING FOR SOME AUTOBOT-ALLY! ... That doesn't mean he can't look though. What? There's something incredibly attractive about a bot in dark armor that has a ton of hidden weapons on their person.

-Knowing how intelligent she is, Shockwave is incredibly weary of her, being confident that if they met she would somehow figure out that he's undercover as Longarm. This makes her a serious threat to his mission and the decepticon cause. At the same time, however, he can't deny how attractive this makes her in his optic. Finding someone that's so intelligent and perceptive is rare and her overall abilities makes her incredibly alluring.

-If Starscream is trying to be Catwoman, then Blackarachnia IS Catwoman. While she doesn't enjoy her plans being foiled, she finds herself charmed by this vigilante. They just have this aura of mystique around them that makes her want to get closer. Plays around with them while at the same time going all out. Surprisingly finds herself enjoying the challenge.

[nightprompts]

&. 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝: 𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

(  inspired from the pun book from the last of us, here are some dialogue prompts of various puns. feel free to edit and change as you seem fit. )

❛ for a fungi to grow you must give it as mushroom as possible. ❜

❛ it doesn't matter how much you push the envelope. it'll still be stationary. ❜

❛ what did the mermaid wear to her math class? an algae bra. ❜

❛ people are making apocalypse jokes like there's no tomorrow. ❜

❛ why did the scarecrow get an award? he was outstanding in his field. ❜

❛ what did the triangle say to the circle? you're so pointless. ❜

❛ a book just fell on my head, i only have my shelf to blame. ❜

❛ i tried to catch some fog earlier. i mist. ❜

❛ i stayed up all night wondering where the sun went. then it dawned on me. ❜

❛ diarrhea is hereditary... it runs in your genes. ❜

❛ what did the green grape say to the purple grape? breathe, you idiot! ❜

❛ i'm reading a book on anti-gravity, and it's impossible to put down. ❜

❛ what is a pirate's favorite letter? tis' the c. ❜

❛ i wasn’t originally going to get a brain transplant, but then i changed my mind. ❜

❛ what washes up on tiny beaches? microwaves. ❜

❛ why are frogs so happy? they eat whatever bugs them. ❜

❛ i don't trust trees. they're shady. ❜

❛ i was going to tell you a pizza joke, but it's too cheesy. ❜

❛ i want to be cremated as it is my last hope for a smoking hot body. ❜

❛ there’s a new type of broom out. it’s sweeping the nation. ❜

❛ did you hear about the man who lost his left side? he’s all right now. ❜

❛ what do you call a bee that can't make up its mind? a maybe. ❜

❛ i tried to make a belt out of watches. it was a waist of time. ❜

❛ i got fired from the calendar factory, just for taking a day off. ❜

❛ did you hear about the guy who got hit in the head with a can of soda? he was lucky it was a soft drink. ❜

❛ tequila may not fix your life but its worth a shot. ❜

❛ why are there fences around cemeteries? because people are dying to get in! ❜

❛ thanks for explaining the word 'many' to me, it means alot. ❜

❛ i once ate a watch. it was time consuming. ❜

❛ why are teddy bears never hungry? they are always stuffed! ❜

❛ i don’t trust stairs because they’re always up to something. ❜

❛ never trust an atom, they make up everything! ❜

❛ i couldn't figure out how to put my seatbelt on, but then it clicked. ❜

❛ how do construction workers party? they raise the roof. ❜

❛ what do you call a dinosaur with an extensive vocabulary? a thesaurus. ❜

❛ when a clock is hungry, it goes back four seconds. ❜

❛ i made a pun about the wind but it blows. ❜

❛ it's hard to explain puns to kleptomaniacs because they always take things literally. ❜

❛ what did the ocean say to the beach? nothing, it just waved. ❜

❛ i have a joke about chemistry, but i don't think it will get a reaction. ❜

❛ i'm on a seafood diet. i see food and i eat it. ❜

❛ why did the restaurant on the moon get bad reviews? it has no atmosphere.❜

❛ how do you organize a space party? you planet. ❜

❛ i once heard a joke about amnesia... but i forget how it goes. ❜

❛ the frustrated cannibal threw up his hands. ❜

❛ it takes guts to be an organ donor. ❜

❛ why is the mushroom always invited to parties? he's a fungi. ❜

❛ a guy walks into a bar... he was disqualified from the limbo contest. ❜

❛ jokes with punch lines can be painfully funny. ❜

❛ so what if i don’t know what apocalypse means? it’s not the end of the world! ❜