#somewhere anatomy just said goodbye

[dances-with-kelpies]

A full pack of sketches

I really don’t know how to describe my idea) I just wanted to see, how it would look like, if Airwolf was a real wolf. In this AU people decided to use wolves instead of dogs in combat. But something goes wrong, and only one wolf, called Lady, managed to survive all of the experiments. As a result, she’s got consciousness and can understand people, but can’t talk with them and has to use specific signals to explain, what she thinks. And, yes, she is a master in handling state-of-the-art techniques (especially weapons). That reminded me a beginning of Disney cartoon “Bolt”

Maybe I will develop this idea with more details. For now, sharing rough concept…

[m00nchildwrites]

Threads of Eternity

pairings: female!reader (first person) x Xavier

tags: romance, eventual smut, based on storyline of game but diverges, little angst and feelings, resolved feelings, fluff, hurt/comfort, injury, these two need to just kiss already, use of her/she/you depend on the pov at the time, reader/MC/you is expressed as female and during smut times will use female-at-birth anatomy terms- she/her, first person when written from "your" pov- use of I/my/mine, will have nsfw content mdni- please read with caution, my smut gets ...vivid.

{ch list: 1, 2 (here), 3}

Chapter 2

Xavier stood in the grand halls of Philos’s crystal palace, the walls shimmering with the light of the planet’s molten core beneath. The throne room was cold despite the golden glow, a reflection of the man who ruled it.

"You will obey me, Xavier," his father’s voice rang out, sharp and unyielding. The king’s shadow loomed large, his crown tilted forward like a predator’s teeth.

Xavier’s fists clenched. "I won’t let you do this."

"You think your love for her matters?" the king spat, his words laced with disdain. "She’s not just a person; she’s the key. Her Aether Core is the only thing powerful enough to stabilize Philos. Without her, we all die."

"Then we die together," Xavier said through gritted teeth.

The king’s laugh was harsh and hollow. "Foolish boy. You’ve let your heart blind you to duty. Guards!"

Xavier barely heard the heavy footsteps echoing behind him as he turned and fled. He sprinted down the gleaming corridors, his heart pounding as he pushed through the palace gates.

The plan had been simple: take her far away, somewhere even his father couldn’t reach. But as he reached the gardens, she was waiting. Why was she there in the palace? She should be at the Academy. 

The air shimmered. A Wanderer had been lurking in wait in the gardens, its twisted form bending reality as its protocore ruptured. A vortex opened, pulling Xavier toward it with an irresistible force.

"Run!" he shouted to her, his voice raw with desperation.

But she didn’t run. She reached out, her eyes wide with fear and confusion, just as the portal swallowed him whole.

Xavier’s last sight of her was the tears glistening on her cheeks.

When the dream shifted, as dreams often did. But this, this was a nightmare, for he was too late. She lay on an altar of crystal and stone, lifeless, her heart—her Aether Core—gone.

He fell to his knees, a scream tearing from his throat, the pain of her loss cutting deeper than any blade.

-

Xavier woke with a jolt, his chest heaving, the image of her lifeless body from his nightmare seared into his mind. Then every time he had witnessed her death, held her in his arms as she died, every time he had to tell her goodbye, or the one time when she held him in her arms as he faded to be absorbed by Philos greedy core- all of the times he lost her flicked through his mind like a horror show. He fought with his covers, throwing them from his legs as he stumbled from his bed to his bathroom. The bright light flickering on burned his eyes and he leaned and wretched into the toilet. 

When at last he emptied his stomach and calmed himself from the panic that had swallowed him, he stood on shaky legs to wash his hands and face. He gargled mouthwash and spit with a wince. On his way to the kitchen for water, he snatched his phone from his bedside table.

His apartment was dark, the city’s lights casting faint patterns across the ceiling. The water was a cool relief to his acid burned throat as he chugged the contents of his glass. He rubbed his face, trying to calm the storm inside him.

Without thinking of the time, he grabbed his phone and dialed her number.

"Hello?" Her voice was groggy but warm, and it immediately steadied him.

"Hey," he said softly, gripping the device like it was a lifeline.

"Xavier?" she asked, more awake now. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," he lied. "I just... couldn’t sleep. Wanted to hear your voice."

There was a pause, and he could tell she was piecing together his tone, the tremor in his words. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," he said quickly. "I’m fine. Go back to sleep."

"Xavier—"

"Goodnight, Y/N," he said gently, ending the call before she could press further.

-Your pov-

The morning dawned gray and sluggish, the kind of day that made pulling myself out of bed feel like an act of heroism. My mind lingered on Xavier’s odd phone call from the night before. I’d lain awake for a long time after, staring at the ceiling and replaying his words. I just wanted to hear your voice.

It wasn’t like him. Xavier was usually playful, confident, and maddeningly good at brushing off anything that could be seen as vulnerability. But last night? He’d sounded... lost.

I arrived at the Hunter Association headquarters early, the hum of activity already beginning to swell. The click of keys on keyboards, the shuffle of papers, the clank of weapons being checked—familiar sounds that filled the space. My eyes instinctively searched for him as I entered, but his usual spot near the mission board was empty.

A slight pang of worry coiled in my chest.

“Morning, Y/N!” Tara’s cheerful voice cut through the noise as she approached with a coffee cup in one hand and a datapad in the other.

“Morning,” I replied, managing a small smile.

She stopped beside me, tilting her head curiously. “Waiting on Xavier?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Have you seen him?”

“Not yet. But he does tend to show up late,” she shrugged.

I hummed, “Yeah, but not on mission days.” 

She arched her brow, “Want me to buzz his watch and tell him to get his lazy self here?”

I shook my head quickly. “No, it’s fine. I’ll wait.”

“Suit yourself.” She winked and continued down the hall, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I settled at my desk, trying to distract myself by skimming over the latest reports, but my focus refused to cooperate. My mind kept circling back to last night—his voice, the hesitation in his words, the way he’d cut me off before I could ask more. Something was wrong.

Just as I reached for my phone, the front door creaked open, and my head snapped up. Relief flooded me as Xavier strolled in, his steps casual but his appearance anything but. His hair was messier than usual, his shirt slightly wrinkled, and his blue eyes were shadowed with exhaustion.

“Morning,” I greeted, my voice softer than I’d intended.

He glanced up, his gaze meeting mine, and for a moment, his expression softened. “Morning.”

“You’re late,” I said gently, standing as he approached.

“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his usual smirk absent. “Overslept.”

“You okay?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, laced with worry I didn’t bother to hide.

Xavier paused, his eyes studying me like he was trying to read my thoughts. ��I’m fine,” he said after a beat, though his tone lacked conviction.

I didn’t press him. Instead, I nodded and gestured toward the desk beside mine. “Well, Jenna’s been on a tear this morning, so you might want to look busy.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Noted.”

He sank into the chair beside me, pulling a stack of mission files closer as though he intended to work. But I noticed the way his focus kept drifting—his eyes lingering on me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention, his presence closer than usual.

At one point, our hands brushed as I reached for a pen, and I glanced up in surprise. His gaze met mine, and for a fleeting moment, the mask slipped. There was something raw and unguarded in his expression, something that made my heart ache.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice almost hesitant.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks... for asking.” His lips quirked into a faint smile, but his eyes held a depth of gratitude that caught me off guard.

I blinked, startled by the sudden sincerity. “You don’t have to thank me, Xavier. I just... care about you.”

The words hung in the air between us, and his gaze softened. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the room had faded away, leaving just the two of us in this strange, unspoken understanding.

“Hey, you two!” Jenna’s sharp voice broke the moment, and I jumped slightly, tearing my eyes away from Xavier to find our boss standing nearby with a clipboard in hand. “If you’re done staring at each other, there is a mission briefing in five minutes. This one is a headache already.”

Xavier sat upright and gave a firm nod, back to his work mode, “Understood.”

I nodded as well, though my face felt hot for some reason, “Yes, Ma’am. We are on our way.”

Jenna rolled her eyes and walked away, muttering something under her breath about “kids these days.” I glanced back at Xavier, expecting him to be amused or embarrassed, but his gaze was back on me, his expression unreadable.

“You sure you’re okay?” I asked again, quieter this time.

He hesitated, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of the desk. “I will be,” he said at last, his voice barely audible.

The words weren’t exactly reassuring, but they carried a weight that told me he was trying. And for now, that was enough.

-

As Captain Jenna went over the breakdown of the missions this week, the responses around the room varied. Some orders were met with groans, others with overly eager “Yes Ma’am”’s from the newbies, Tara and Simone had been paired up and the smack of their high-five had clapped through the air. I had grown restless as Jenna went down her list. It was taking forever to get to my name, and the fact that Xavier’s name had yet to be called was a good sign that we might get a paired mission. 

In truth, unless a part of a larger team, Xavier was only ever paired with me; if not, it meant he had a solo mission and those were my least favorite. Not only because I knew he was probably doing something incredibly interesting and top secret but, in truth, not knowing what super interesting stuff he was up to drove me crazy. A solo mission for Xavier also meant that I would not be seeing much of him, if any, until it was completed. No. I wasn’t a fan of his solo missions at all.

I squirmed in my seat ready to just hear what we would be doing already. Better to rip it off like a bandaid and just get it over with already. I slouched slightly, crossing my arms with a frown unconsciously. I still had not had a real chance to make sure he was okay from the odd call the night before. If he was pulled away on a mission, the moment to ask would pass without it seeming too odd for me to bring it up. A hand touching lightly to my knee had my eyes whipping to meet his.

Amusement was clear as he glanced over my face, a slight wrinkling to the corners of his eyes. He chuckled lightly, “Eager are we?”

My eyes flicked to his hand on my knee. His thumb brushed the inside just slightly. My eyes widened as my face warmed. He froze momentarily, his own eyes glancing at his hand as though its actions had surprised him as well. The speed with which he pulled it back and the pink that took up across his cheeks and ears was so adorable that I nearly forgot that I had been flustered by the action as well.

“Y/N! Xavier!” Jenna’s call of our names had both of our heads (and backs) snapping to attention.

“Xavier, this is really a mission for you, but I want Y/N on this one with you.”

Xavier’s eyes flicked to mine, a hint of concern and hesitation before he consented with a nod, “Understood.”

For my part, I could barely contain the excitement. Finally! I would be able to be in on one of Xavier’s top secret missions.

When the case folder slapped down onto the table infront of us, my excitement only grew. Xavier, however, looked paler by the second.

“Lumiere?” I nearly gasped. My hands were almost shaky as I picked up the file.

“Captain-” Xavier began only to stop when Jenna sent him a look and raised her hand. His jaw snapped shut with an audible click.

I raised an eyebrow at his odd reaction. Did Xavier hate Lumiere or something?

“The mission is a bit out of the scope for the pair of you,” she sighed looking very put out by the whole thing, “And truthfully, we could use both of your presence on other cases, however, the Association is trying to push for a better PR angle that may or may not have to do with the upcoming elections.” The last part was grumbled irritably. “This command is coming from above my pay grade. It is out of my hands.” She leveled a stern look at Xavier, who honestly looked a bit green. He was leaning just barely away from the file in my hand as though it held the plague. 

“Understood, Ma’am,” I agreed readily, “We will give it our most.”

“I expect nothing less from the pair of you,” she nodded resolutely, “After all, that bit you did with the Linkon Subways was a big hit, and as such, management insisted that only the pair of you would do.”

“The subways?” I was confused. I opened the file and froze in disbelief. “It’s…a script?”

Xavier leaned forward at that, looking at the folders contents in disbelief and despair in equal measure.

Jenna, however, looked mildly amused, “I hope your acting skills are polished, Xavier.” With that she gave a nod and spun on her heel, “Dismissed!” 

We barely heard her call for dismissal. My stomach dropped, all the excitement sputtering. It was a mission with Xavier, yes. And one about Lumiere, sure. But the mission wasn’t a real top secret mission at all.

Xavier let out a sound, a sigh of defeat. I eyed his profile and my heart gave a sputter. At least I would get to be with my stupidly handsome partner this week. I grined a bit at that. Glancing back down, I read the script title:

“Lumiere and The Deepspace Tunnel” starring Xavier Shen, a real life Linkon Hunter, as Lumiere

Scratch that. This was the best mission I had ever been given. My mouth dropped as the full reason for his despair became apparent, “No freakin’ way. You get to play Lumiere! That is so cool Xavier!”

He winced as he stood, looking like he was about to head into a death march, “Well, let’s go over the… mission details. The sooner we can get started the sooner this is over. How about we grab some snacks and read it back at our place? I need snacks if I am going to get through this.” The last part was more of a grumble to himself, but still I followed after him eagerly.

I was going to get to see my gorgeous partner that I had a not-so-little crush on dressed up as the legendary hero that I had a celebrity crush on. This was awesome.

Chapter 2 started out with the snippet that I previewed for you all, but I hope you liked how it ended. So, let me explain a bit about this fic. I want it to be canon compliant for the most part. So, it will have some Myth cards and story branch story lines in it. The one coming up, is obviously the Lumiere Myths, however, as I missed the original event, all of the information I have comes from you guys posting here and the myth card videos I have been able to find and watch on YouTube. As such! If anything is not exact, go with it for the sake of the story y'all. At the end of the day, this little fic is a fun project for me to distressed and,essentially, a love note to a character that I feel is deserving of a lot more love than he gets from the fandom.

Smut is coming and it is not too far away. Do not worry. I will post very clearly when the time comes as a warning and use the tag: "Xavier smut" as well. I will mention, since it came up in an anon ask, I do have a MDNI on my pinned on my profile. Obviously, I cannot police this nor do I want to, but let's respect each other and just allow me to request that if you are a minor and reading my works or engaging in mdni tagged or smut posts, just keep it to yourself, yeah? What you do is between you and your moral standards, but if something is too much for you, just don't partake in it, ok?

ANYWAYS, sorry for the long note.

Hope you all enjoyed!

Xavier!Lumiere coming up!

Comment to be added to the tag list.

Tagged list:

@moonsavior @2kyute2poot @yournextdoorhousewitch @sapphoslostkid @ivohex

[whatwouldsylwrite]

hockey!Abby x dancer!reader pt6

pt 1 pt 5

It’s your turn to take Abby on a date!

Tags: modern au, fluff, fem!reader, shy reader, reader is into sexy/girly dances, Abby is a sweetheart, switching pov

Notes: Kisses, book snobbism. (I didn't mention any book names that they're criticising and the name of Abby's favourite book so you could put what you want there). The butt song - Juicy, and the lyrics Abby's thinking about are "If you could see it from the front, wait 'til you see it from the back".

Special thanks to @ohlawdthebirds for helping me out with Abby's book taste!

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

It didn't take long for Abby to start calling you her girlfriend after your first date. It just felt… natural to her. Abby didn't even notice how she said "oh, that's my girlfriend, (y/n)" when someone asked her about you, because people asked. Abby didn't mind unless the person who was asking acted like they had a chance with you or made some inappropriate comments about your body - it was one thing to say you were hot and another thing to describe what someone’d do to you if they could. Abby now thought you were a fucking saint for dealing with these assholes as peacefully as you did, because she? She wanted to strangle them with her bare hands and she would if they didn't go away fast enough. Abby was scary, and people could definitely feel her fury just by standing next to her. 

Of course, when you first heard her calling you her girlfriend you went red in the face and had this cute wide smile that made Abby melt and buzz and be so soft she might as well turn into Baymax. She was worried for a second - what if she was moving too fast? It was hard to tell with you: your boundaries were palpable, but you were so sweet and responsive, so she couldn’t be sure you’d have a negative reaction. And then you smiled at her bashfully and now the word “girlfriend” was the most frequently used word in her vocabulary. 

The other perk - except for obvious, you were officially hers now - was how nervous her teammates got when she was sitting with them during your practice. It was like they had a fear of God in them, watching you dance and knowing Abby was right there and Abby would definitely kick their asses if they said something wrong. It filled Abby with such joy she’d act tough with them on purpose just to see them stammering - it was so fun to mess with them. 

The only person who wasn’t scared of Abby was Manny, and he’d always comment on “you got lucky, Anderson, this chick is something else”, “oh fuck me, are you telling me I can’t appreciate the beauty? The skill? Girl’s got moves”, “it’s your civic duty to keep her satisfied, Abs, she is feeding us a three-course meal”. Depending on how obnoxious Manny was, Abby would either chuckle or slap his stupid head, but she knew he was kind-hearted, so she didn’t actually fight him. 

And now Abby got to walk around the university campus and steal you to make out somewhere secluded, because now she was allowed to. It wasn't like you didn't let her kiss you - quite the opposite, you silently asking for a kiss was Abby's fucking kryptonite - but now you were more relaxed around her. Abby didn’t even notice you were tense before, but now the difference between nervous you and relaxed you was striking. It was still too easy to make you blush, but now your hands slithered around her waist like they belonged there, with familiarity Abby’s heart ached for. 

 Abby’s anatomy class just ended when she texted you to find out where you were (‘dining hall’) and she made her way to the dining hall, because she hasn’t seen you for two days - to think of it, god both of your schedules were absolutely fucked. You’ve seen each other more often at the activity centre than on the campus - which was ridiculous. So Abby collected her things, said her goodbyes and went to the dining hall.

When Abby walked into the dining hall her only goal was to find you, while a lot of people came around to say hi and ask her questions. Usually it was nice, but right now it was irritating - all those people distracted her from her search. And then she noticed you, sitting alone at the table, reading through something on your phone - Abby knew this look on you, eyes glued to the screen, brows a little furrowed and whatever you had in front of you abandoned. Fuck you were attractive like that - it wasn’t even about your looks, it was purely about your brains.

Abby quickly grabbed some food and walked to your table, watching how close she’d need to get before you notice her. The answer was: she needed to sit at your table before you looked up at her. 

“What are you doing?” Abby asked, mostly referring to the reading.

“I keep it juicy-juicy, I eat that lunch.” You answered in a flat tone, your face fully blank, as you pointed at your plate which was half-finished.

 Abby couldn’t contain her snort - you had no business to be funny, but fuck, you saying lyrics to Doja Cat in flat voice? Ridiculous. 

“I meant, what are you reading?”

“My prof’s notes on my paper.” You scrunched your nose. “She is right, mostly, but I’ve never felt more academically inferior.”

Abby laughed and you both sprang into conversation, discussing everything and nothing at the same time, just catching up for those two days - sometimes you both were so busy you couldn’t even text each other regularly, so now Abby’s hands itched. She knew she was staring at you - who wouldn’t, you were so pretty - but she couldn’t help herself. Abby listened to you, absorbing your voice like a sponge while you both ate, but she needed something else.

“Do you have free time now?”

“Around half an hour.” You said after you checked the time. “What’s up?”

“Gonna steal you.” Abby said and watched with joy how your cheeks became pink. 

You both finished your lunch and left the dining hall. The weather was nice today, though a little cold, so Abby took her jacket off and put it on your shoulders, rejoicing in her own possessiveness of you - it was her jacket on you, not someone else’s. Especially stupid jerks from your classes. And you wrapped it around yourself with a small smile that did something to Abby’s insides - in these moments she felt like she could conquer the whole fucking world. 

Abby spotted the big wide tree that could give you privacy and led you to it, not even trying to be subtle - she needed to put her hands on you. 

"I feel like I'm a teenager again." You laughed as Abby tugged to the tree. 

"And how often did you get caught kissing girls during breaks?" 

Abby tried to be polite and waited until you leaned against the tree, helping her play this little game where you talk and stand conveniently close to pretend it was a normal social situation.

"What do you think?" You asked, coy. Abby chuckled and moved close enough to put her hand on your neck. 

"I think you're too smart to get caught." Abby whispered in your lips before she kissed you. 

It was Abby's favourite part: feeling how you relaxed against her, hugging her waist and ever so slightly pressing her closer, as if she'd stop you. So Abby doubled down and pressed you against the tree hard enough so your bodies would be flush against each other, but not hard enough so your back would hurt from the tree bark. You sighed into her mouth and she deepened the kiss, her tongue slowly playing with your tongue, sharing the taste of the strawberry candy you ate during lunch. 

Abby moved her hand under your shirt, stroking your side with her thumb as you shuddered and your knees grew weak - her touch to your bare skin lit you up like a Christmas tree. Abby squeezed your side and pulled you closer, marvelling at how soft you were, how gentle your fingers were on her jaw as you kissed her back with enthusiasm. 

"I've missed you." You whispered in Abby's mouth and something warm filled her chest. 

"Me too, doll." Abby kissed your jaw, her mouth slowly moving down your neck. "Tell me if this is not okay." 

"Why wouldn't it be?" You said shortly to hide your quiet moan. 

Abby didn't say anything and kept kissing your neck, nibbling at your skin as she moved down to your collarbones, her hand caressing your stomach now. You couldn't move anywhere, her thigh pressing between your thighs all the way to the tree. Abby's head got filled with a picture of you just grinding on her thigh like this and she had to move away a little before she could help you, her self-control slowly going out of the window. 

"Fuck." Abby sighed as your foreheads met. "Did I tell you how crazy you make me?"

You blushed a little, shy smile tugging at your lips. Abby watched you, her hand still stroking your stomach. 

"Every time we end up in this situation." You chuckled. "Are you free this Saturday?"

Abby looked at you, surprised, but not sure by what: by your question or by how you looked a little bit insecure, as if Abby would reject you. She knew now it was because you didn't have a lot of experience in being forward, but it was still a little bit heartbreaking to see. 

"Yeah. You wanna do something?"

"Yeah." There you go, Abby thought as you smiled, now feeling safe again. 

"Are you going to tell me?" Abby asked playfully as she pinched your stomach slightly.

"Oh, I'm not telling you shit." You smiled deviously and Abby laughed. She knew not telling you anything about your first date would bite her in the ass.

"All right, then. Keep your secrets." Abby said as you giggled and pulled her in another kiss. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Abby wasn’t nervous, no. Of course she wasn’t, why would she be? It wasn’t like she didn’t like being in the dark about your plans for today. No, she was chill. She was cool. She was okay with not being in control. 

Abby’s fingers were tapping a fast rhyme on the steering wheel as she waited for you to come down. At least you were merciful enough to tell Abby what would be appropriate to wear (“casual”) so Abby put on her favourite pair of jeans, her sleeveless shirt and a jacket. She was hoping she was dressed appropriately - it was very unlikely that you'd have clothes her size, unless you had a secret stack of oversize clothes she didn't know of. 

Now Abby began to understand why you asked her so many questions, but just as you trusted her, Abby decided to trust you back - that was the fun of it, surprising your girl with something she'd like. You were definitely not taking her to do any sports activities, so she'd be fine. 

Abby looked over the door to your apartment complex and once again she stopped breathing as she watched you come closer: you and your little outfits always left her speechless. She noticed in surprise that this was the first time she saw you in jeans and she was scared for herself when she'd see the back of those jeans. The fucking Doja Cat with her fucking butt song, Abby thought as she left the car to greet you. 

You smiled at her and leaned into the kiss right away, not shy anymore. Abby couldn't help herself and accidentally touched your butt, enjoying how dense and hard it was because of the denim. She didn't know if you'd noticed, but you didn't say anything so she didn't say anything too. 

"Are you going to tell me now where we are going?" Abby asked as you two sat in the car and she started the engine. 

"I'm going to give an address where we can park and then we'll have to walk a little." You said with that naughty smile you gave Abby when you wanted to be a little shit. Cute little shit, but still.

"It's not rock climbing?" Abby asked jokingly. 

"No. I'd have warned you." You said genuinely. "We can go rock climbing next time if you want."

Abby smiled, suddenly shy - she wasn't used to someone caring about her, as she usually was a carer.

The road took around twenty minutes and Abby put some music on - when you rode with her for the first time she offered you to put your music on, but you said you wanted to listen to her music and now when you both were in the car Abby'd pick something and then you both would exchange songs, turning them on through Abby's spotify. Now Abby's recommendations were fucked: the mix of her rock and classic with your rnb and kpop ("I know," you said as if you expected Abby to have some prejudice against kpop, "but they work with the best choreographers and I'm not passing up on opportunity to have a readymade tailored choreo"). But Abby didn't mind - some of the songs reminded her of your dancing anyway, and you'd dance with your hands to some of them, which was cute as fuck. 

Abby parked the car when you spotted the free space - and she pretended she didn't notice you staring at her with pink cheeks as she was going in reverse with one hand on your seat. Abby knew she looked hot when she did it, and well. She did it for you anyway.

You two left the car and you immediately took Abby's hand to tug her gently as you walked her to the place. 

"I hope you won't think I'm boring." You said as you two turned the corner. 

"Are you going to make me look at rich people's portraits?" Abby asked with suspicion. 

There was nothing more boring for her than to walk around dusty art galleries and look at dark ugly portraits. She liked nature or even good portraits, but ones that were done on black canvas with clear signs of inbreeding on their faces? No thank you. 

"Well, no. But thanks for telling me before I started planning our next date." You laughed and stopped. 

Abby looked at the place and now she understood why you said that. You were standing in front of the bookshop - and not the one that had a shop in each city, but this kind of bookshop that looks straight up from movies. It was two stories tall, with big windows and nice, interesting displays. It looked old, and maybe it was actually old, Abby didn't know. 

"I wanted to do a book date." You admitted, getting shy. "You know, when we walk around and talk about books?" 

Abby nodded, totally smitten. It was such a cute idea and it was definitely something Abby would like: geeking out about books she read while you'd geek out about books you've read? 

"And there's a coffee shop on the second floor, so we can get coffee." You continued, now looking around as the nerves got the best of you.

Abby quickly squeezed your hand to make you look at her, because she would not let you get upset. 

"Fuck, (y/n). I'm going to talk your ear off." Abby chuckled and watched how your face lit up.

"You like it?"

"Are you kidding me? Of course." Abby leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

You wiggled a little in anticipation and you two went inside the shop. There were not a lot of people and it was pleasantly quiet. The first display was "most popular" and you two got stuck there immediately. 

Abby looked through the manga, sci-pop and modern novels, not really impressed with people's taste. 

"Have you read this?" You pointed at one of the books and Abby shook her head. She did recognize the book from her booktok recommendations, but it didn't catch her interest. "Good for you, because this? This is a crime against literature."

Abby suddenly felt relieved: she wasn't sure if you'd be as snobby as she was with your books. Abby knew already you had different taste in literature, and somewhere in her mind Abby was scared you'd read something she'd absolutely hate. 

"Why?" 

"The language of this thing is just abominable. I swear to god the author doesn't know about different sentence lengths. Or it could've been done for a reason, but I definitely failed to find it." You shrugged and Abby smiled at you. 

You moved on from the "popular now" display pretty fast, and you walked through the next shelves without much pause: they were maps and cultural guides you both didn't have any interest in. Next shelves were poetry and you tugged Abby to them, showing her your favourites. Abby in return pointed at authors she couldn't understand for the life of her ("I'd need a vocabulary to understand half of it") and you giggled. Then Abby spotted a collection of ancient Greek tragedies and her nerd brain activated as she retold some of them to you in modern terms while you laughed your face off. 

"Medea invented female rage." Abby said it like she had on good authority, nodding seriously and you giggled. 

"You make ancient literature sound fun, Abby." You said as you curled to her side, your hand in her hand.

Abby melted from your warmth and kissed your temple. Then she continued her geeking out by telling how ancient Greek theatre worked and you listened with big curious eyes and Abby blushed a little from such undivided attention from you. 

Then you moved on to classic prose and discussed which books you had to read in school, which ones you hated and which ones made you cry. ("Les Misérables?" "Les Miserables") Abby loved Hugo just as much as you did - but she was the type of person to read through 20 pages of description of Notre Dame and then find out if it was accurate (but she cried about Esmeralda's fate anyway). You showed her some books you absolutely despised in school but liked them when you reread it a few years later. 

You politely ignored the shelves with modern detectives and action and moved on to fantasy. You both found out your love for books started with children's fantasy, even though you've read different series - and you gushed to each other about your childhood favourites. 

“You think you need a vocabulary for poetry? Try reading this without any prior knowledge.” You pointed at the part of the shelf where Tolkien’s books were placed. 

“There’s actually editions with annotations.” Abby shared with you as she touched some of the books, just admiring them. “I have that edition of The Hobbit, if you want to.”

“Oh. That’d be cool.” You nodded and Abby chuckled. 

Eventually you got stuck between non-fiction shelves, discussing which books you liked and which books were..not that good. Abby’s snobby side got a chance to shine when you were going through self-improvement books - she hated them. (I mean, what kind of adult can’t figure out time management? It’s like people forgot what university was like). You didn’t agree with her there (yeah, but you have a schedule that is made for you, and then suddenly you're a full on adult with zero skill in planning your time. I think it’s nice that people can at least try to learn this skill). It was a small disagreement but for Abby it was significant - the way you two had different opinions and it wasn’t a problem, but an opportunity to learn. She suddenly hoped that every disagreement you two would have in the future would be just as this one - an honest desire to understand each other. 

Abby didn’t notice how long you were in the bookshop - it felt like 15 minutes when in reality it took you almost 2 hours to get through everything and talk about it. At one point when Abby was geeking out about some cool history books, you shyly leaned in to her and asked for a book recommendation and Abby just. Stopped functioning, her brain going into overdrive - you asked her for a book recommendation. For a second Abby just stood there, but then she grinned and went to find her favourite with your hand in hers. 

Abby gave you the book and waited for your reaction - what if you read it already? What if you read it and didn’t like it? 

“It’s actually on my reading list.” You said, delighted. “Thank you, Abby.” You leaned in and left a kiss on her cheek, while she smiled bashfully. “Wanna grab some coffee?”

“Yeah.”

You bought the book after you managed to convince Abby you’d pay for it, not her - and she was standing next to you trying not to pout. Abby wanted to take care of you, doesn’t mean in which way - actually, in all ways - but she shouldn't control you. So she stopped arguing about who will pay for the book and let you handle it. 

You went to get your coffee - surprisingly, the coffee shop had more people in it than the whole book shop - and sat by the window, watching the sun go down. Abby watched how golden light hit your face, making you look downright unreal: all soft and relaxed and pretty, so damn pretty. She couldn’t look away from your eyes that changed colour under the light as you looked somewhere far away, just enjoying the company and the place. You’ve noticed Abby’s stare and blushed, confused.

“Is there something on my face?”

“Except pure unadulterated beauty? No, nothing.” Abby grinned as you giggled, your face fully red now. 

You put your hand across the table and Abby took it, intertwining your fingers together as she stroked your palm with her thumb.

“Sometimes I think you say such things just to make me blush.” You said playfully and Abby laughed.

“I’m still telling the truth.” Abby shrugged. 

You laughed  and looked at Abby like you wanted to remember every little detail of her face, absorbing her. How the existence of one person can change your life, you thought, because Abby changed your life not just for the better, but for the best.

[hanasnx]

stop because i literally thought this was just me being completely utterly weird but knowing that there’s someone out there that thinks the same thing is literally so relieving, like yes?? anakin is and would be “gross” when he’s having sex?? and omg and dropping hot wax on him?? i loved all of what you said, we need more “gross”anakin. 

thank you for coming to my Ted talk.💗

(btw I’m talking about you “scratching the surface” with anakin’s other kinks)

─ prev post,

val it’s so real it’s practically canon.

like i absolutely know padme (who’s not prudish by any means & even if she was that’d be fine) was barely keeping up with her husbands sex drive and kinks. but the man knows how to lay the meanest pipe so i just know she loved being along for the ride 🤷‍♂️

sometimes some of the gross stuff i write for him i don’t even write it as a “this is gonna be so hot” it’s literally like “yea ani would do this and probably be into it” like i really try to stay true to his character and he thinks it’s hot. whether or not i do or you do is subjective. the reader in the fic is always gonna reflect ani’s sense of adventure and therefore be into what he’s into for the sake of storytelling

i have a series of unarticulated thoughts on anakin’s so-called “grossness” and i try to sprinkle them in evenly throughout my work. but since u asked for more, i’ll give you a list

let’s talk more about anakin’s disgusting habits under the cut

WARNINGS: f pronouns + anatomy, dead dove do not eat for sexually and potentially triggering explicit themes. things such as feet stuff, butt stuff, armpit stuff, pregnant/breeding/lactation kink, titfuck. mommy/daddy kink, mentioned vomit from gagging on cock & cleaning it off & face fucking, slight dubcon, sadism, dacryphilia, piss kink, blood consumption

! ── he’s so impulsive, so eager to act on a whim. unapologetically gross

! ── ani is treading pretty dangerously close to a foot fetish bcos it’s part of “his worship” for reader. and he would 100% “floss your toes with his tongue” and he’d tell reader that to their face too

! ── would make out w your ear tbh.

use tongue when he kisses you on places that are supposedly chaste. your hand or your cheek or your forehead during goodbye. what’s the point? he doesn’t know. he wants to taste the sweat on your skin

! ── he eats ass like a starving man and he loves when it’s done to him too. he doesn’t even fuckin care istg he loves ass. he loves fingering it while he’s fucking your pussy, he loves fisting it, fucking it, making you wear cute jeweled butt plugs. he wants to fist your pussy too but that’s not nearly as easy as your perfect asshole

! ── unhinged enough to lick & suck your armpits. sweaty or not. part of his insatiable need to have touched/licked every reachable inch of your body no matter how unorthodox. the possession in him

! ── shamelessly attracted to pregnant women & milfs & tits. the mommy issues on this kid is out of this world. he wants you to take care of him like you’re his mom and i mean that. and he also wants to fuck you. he’s so fucked up. if you made dinner for him? in nothing but an apron? he’d call you mommy and eat whatever you made right off of you

! ── breeding. we all know it, it’s been done before a thousand times. anakin’s the king of the breeding kink. but i’d like to say some more about it.

if you’re pregnant, he’s constantly trying to fuck you. you’re like “my love, can you grab me that? i’m in a lot of pain right now i can’t—

immediately, he’s asking: “you want me to fuck you too? it might relieve some of the pressure. i read somewhere..”

he’s practically vibrating sitting next to you thinking about how he— him— he put babies inside you. h i m.

god and if you let him have you?? he goes crazy

he’s like grabbing your hair and licking up the length of your spine and saying shit like, “gotta make sure right? gotta make sure… you’re gonna take it all… my little wife.”

and

“i did this to you, didn’t i? say it, baby, who got you fucking pregnant? fuck, your tits are gonna get so fucking big. you’re gonna let daddy milk you, right?” cos that lactation kink is so real too

he’d honestly wanna fuck your tits while they’re full of milk. watch your nips drool milk all over yourself and his dick while it’s nestled so tight in between em. you’re practically crying from the oversensitivity which is just an added plus for him.

part of the pregnancy kink is definitely the thrill of almost forcing you to have his children.. going bareback and bein like “you ready for another one? let’s make another. if it doesn’t take this time, we’ll keep doing it. i’ll give you my cum as many times as it takes, yeah? you fucking love it.” after you literally just had one of his children bcos he’s selfish and cruel and tyrannical and gets off to shit like this

! ── after a blowjob he wants you to swish and gargle his load. open your mouth so he can spit in it and make you mix it in. watch you as you swallow it and probe your mouth with his tongue to taste the remnants

! ── piss kink. he has it. he wants it both ways. something about watching you kneel in front of him to get pissed on makes him feel so superior. disgustingly superior. telling you how good you are sitting so pretty for him while he pisses on you. you’re so dirty for liking it. might make you drink it depending bcos he’s def had yours—

! ── making you practically vomit on his cock from fucking your throat so deep. swells with pride when you lick it off of him like a good girl. he loves seeing you gag and choke and lurch. the way your throat looks closing up and how your body surges from the involuntary movement. it makes him moan and fuck your mouth like a pussy. as hard as he can.

! ── twisting and pulling and flicking your clit and nips. slapping your pussy. tugging at your folds. simply bcos of his sick fascination to put you through so much for his own sexual satisfaction. don’t worry he expects the same from you.

! ── he’d lick and drink your blood in the right circumstances tbfh. if he broke the skin on you somewhere he’d lick the wound

! ── he wants to watch you hopelessly fuck so many things for him. for him, specifically. not you. for him. he wants you to put on a show for him. to redden and whine and cry bcos whatever thing (which is most likely not a toy, and something not meant to be stuck up your ass or pussy. that stretches it too wide or whatever other reason) just isn’t working and it’s not getting you where you need to be. and you beg for him to help you. to let you stop. but he doesn’t. not yet anyway

! ── seriously,,, there is so little i don’t see this boy doing ,,, there’s definitely more but this is just what i had on hand. 🥵🥵 i love anakin’s disgusting side. disgusting is an understatement. he needs a stronger word

[wednesdaysraven]

i give you my soul. gomez x morticia

synopsis: gomez and morticia’s first date.

word count: 1,558

tags: headcanons ✶ fluff ✶ not proofread

warnings: none

┈─★ this is my very first time writing these two so don’t yell at me if i did something wrong. i tried and that’s all that matters! fans of the 1964 addams, shut up. i know gomez is allergic to flowers. i know, cool your jets. ┈─★ this one’s for you bestie boo @softspades

Morticia’s fencing class had went a little longer than normal. She found Gomez pacing the hallways outside, twirling a black rose between his fingers. “Mon cher, how long have you been waiting?” She asked, smelling the rose he had given her.

Everyday—after his ghost science class ended—Gomez would pick a flower from the rosebushes in the quad and have one waiting for Morticia when she got out of fencing. By the end of the week, she would have a full bouquet of black roses.

Gomez was allergic to roses. He put his allergies aside for Morticia because he knew she loved black roses.

“For you? My whole life, cara mia.” Gomez said, kissing her knuckles. Morticia smiled and pulled him into a quick kiss. The two of them ked to their second shared class of the day, vampire anatomy. “I would like to take you somewhere tonight.”

“Where would you take me?”

“Meet me at the gates at 7:30 tonight.”

“I would have to sneak away from Larissa first. She has eyes like a hawk and you know how she’s a stickler for the rules.”

Morticia watched him thinking as they rounded the corner. She tucked her rose behind her ear. Gomez turned to her, “The astronomy tower, then? Same time.”

“It’s a date.” Morticia said, walking into vampire anatomy and taking her seat next to Larissa. Gomez told his seat by his lab partner and roommate, a siren, named William. She waved to Gomez and toom the flower out of her hair to use as a bookmark in her textbook.

Larissa nudged her, shooting a glare at Gomez. “Another rose? He’s got to stop doing that. He’ll get trouble, you know that, right?”

Morticia shrugged. “It’s endearing, Rissa. You’ll feel the same when you find your other half.” If Larissa said anything more, Morticia didn’t hear it. She was too preoccupied by her lover across from her. Morticia, however, did catch the look of longing on her roommate’s face. She decided to ignore it, for now.

The bell rang, signally class had ended. Gomez got up to walk Morticia back to her dorm but she stopped with a hand on his chest. “I need to talk to Larissa, okay, Gomez? I’ll see you tonight.” She said, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

He nodded and fell into step with William. Morticia bumped shoulders with Larissa and watched her as she stared straight ahead. Morticia pushed her hair over her shoulder and stopped in her tracks, making the blonde girl stop as well.

“Do you have feelings for Gomez?”

“...what?”

“Do you have—”

Morticia caught the look of hesitation on her face. “No. I don’t.” She wasn’t stupid. She knew something was up. But she also didn’t want to cause anything between them. So, instead, she let it slide. She would just have think of the best time to talk about it.

“Okay. If you say so. I have to get ready for my date. Are you alright on your own for a few hours?”

“I’m not a child, M.” The blonde said, rolling her eyes playfully and opened the door to their dorm and sat down on her bed on the left. She went to work at her desk, writing her essay for astronomy while Morticia went to her closet to pick her dress and debated between her signature black heel or wedges. In the end, she picked the heels.

She bid Larissa goodbye, asked her to cover for her and headed out, shouldering her bag. She checked her lipstick in the mirror for a second and then closed the door behind her.

As Morticia walked, the more ecstatic she became. She knew Gomez had a knack for surprising her and she couldn’t wait to see what he did this time. She rounded the corner to the astronomy tower. She fixed her hair before trying to open the door and found it locked.

She couched down, took a bobbypin from her hair. She jammed it into the doorknob, felt around for the mechanism and pried it open. She immediately stuck it back in her hair.

The breath was knocked out of her when she saw the astronomy tower. It was decorated with black rose petals and candles.

“Oh, Gomez! You shouldn’t have!” Morticia spun around to hug him and kiss his cheek. Gomez then led his girlfriend to the blankets in the middle of the floor and sat down next to her. Morticia started shivering so he shrugged off his blazer jacket and put it around her shoulders.

She smiled at him, “Thank you, mon cher.”

“Of course, Tish,” He said. “I can’t believe we’re graduating next week.” His girlfriend lay down on the blanket to look up at the stars. Gomez knew how much the girl liked the stars and how Astronomy was her favorite subject. She actually wanted to be an astronomer when she was younger and Gomez thought it was beautiful.

“Just think, my love, we have our whole lives to be together.” Morticia smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and chuckled. She pointed to the sky and made him look as well. “It’s Orion. As the Greek myth goes, Orion belived taht he could kill every animal in the world but Gaea — the goddess of the Earth — angered by his claims, sent a scorpion to kill him. Upon Orion’s demise, Zeus turned him into a constellation, along with the scorpion that killed him.”

“....Whoa.” Gomez laughed at his girlfriend’s cuteness.

“I’m sorry, that’s nerdy, isn’t it?” Morticia asked, turning away, hiding her face with her hair. Which was one of her nervous habits. Whenever Morticia was nervous or worried, she would hide her face with hair or start eating it. She wasn’t sure why she did that last one but it was one that she was trying to stop.

“No, no, Tish. It’s really cool. How do you remember that?” Gomez, taking her hands way from her face and holding them to his heart. Morticia could have swore her heart had stopped beating then and there. She had to take a minute to compose herself.

“Because I pay attention in class, mon cher.” She replied, batting her lashes at him and scooting closer. Morticia couldn’t stop smiling, she was so happy. She loved and cherished every minute she went with her boyfriend.

“How can I pay attention when you’re my partner?”

“You think you’re funny?” Morticia asked, scooting even closer to him. Their noses were pratically touching at this point.

“I like to think so.”

Morticia hummed and then attacked him in kisses, full force that he fell on his back with her on top of him.

“Te amo, Morticia.” He whispered and she froze.

“...quoi?” Morticia questioned. She had literally forgotten how to speak English and reverted to French instead.

Did he just say he loved me? Morticia asked herself.

“Je t’aime aussi, mon amour.” Morticia replied, peppering kisses to his face, leaving black lipstick marks.

After awhile, they fell asleep together with Morticia’s head on Gomez’s chest. Sometime in the middle of the night, Morticia jolted awake, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with one hand, feeling around for her boyfriend’s pocket watch. It must have fallen out of his jacket.

She covered her bare chest with the blanket and gently nudged Gomez awake. “Mon cher, wake up!”

“...Que? ¡Mierda! What time is it?”

She got up and redressed herself, feeling around for dress. “I don’t know! Ms. Newvine will have my head if I’m not in the dorm when she comes to wake us up. I have to go, I love you!”

“Tish!” Gomez called out.

“What? Did I forget something?”

“Yeah.” He pulled her into a kiss. “That.”

Morticia smiled into it. “I love you.....I like saying that.”

“And I like hearing it.”

Morticia reluctantly pulled away from the kiss. She ran off without another word and raced down to her dorm, praying it was unlocked.

It wasn’t. Well, she wasn’t going to bang on the door like a lunatic in the middle of the night and wake her roommate. So, she pulled her bobbypin out of her hair and jammed it into the doorknob’s lock and waited for the click to push it open.

Then she quietly placed her heels next to her bed, threw her nightgown on and got into bed. She rolled over to her side and sighed. She heard something fall to the floor. She leaned over to pick it up. It was addressed to her. So she opened it.

It was from Gomez.

Tish,

Te entrego mi alma. Cada parte de mí es tuya. Te has apoderado de mi mente, cuerpo y espíritu. Tengo la plena intención de casarme contigo algún día, quierda. Tu cabello negro azabache, tus ojos oscuros, profundos y penetrantes y tu sonrisa radiante ocupan cada parte de mí.

Te amo, mi corazón.

p.s.

translations below ❤️

I give you my soul. Every part of me, it’s yours. You’ve taken over my mind, body and spirit. I fully intend to marry you one day, dear. Your raven hair, your deep, piercing dark eyes and your radiant smile take up every part of me.

I love you, my heart.

Morticia hugged it to her chest and fell asleep with a smile plastered across her face.

[thedeleteduser]

100th Post!

Thank you all, for what’s it worth, being here to support me and my art. Genuinely, it’s been a great pleasure reaching this high of a level.

As a celebratory post, here’s a fan fiction about KipKoala! Be careful though, as it deals with dark topics, being heavily inspired by an old particular creepypasta. You’ll find out what story I’m referring to near the end.

TW: Suicide, mental breakdowns, disturbing imagery, and gore.

————————————————————————

KipKoala was napping peacefully atop a tree branch, as he dreamt of all sorts of wonderful things occurring in his mind.

Then, the thought of a lavender-furred feline with droopy eyes and a dopey smile appeared, causing the gray-furred koala to be abruptly awoken. Oh, him. How could he have forgotten? KipKoala narrowed his eyes, as he frowned.

Today was his and Catnap’s (the one he had a certain distaste for towards) birthday, since both of them were directly related to the moon itself. KipKoala feared that Catnap’s own birthday might overshadow his, but he had to keep hoping it wouldn’t happen. He might have to call shotgun if he wanted to get ahead of the game.

Then, out of the blue, a few Smiling Critters came by—Bubba Bubbaphant, Dogday, and KickinChicken.

“Heya, Kippy! Whatcha doing?” said Dogday, as he looked to KipKoala up above. “Yeah, what are you doing on that tree branch, anyways? Shouldn’t you topple down the ground already?” questioned KickinChicken, following Dogday’s greeting with a confused expression.

“For the last time, KickinChicken, koalas latch on tree branches to cool off. It’s in their anatomy.” Bubba responded to the cocky yet cool chicken, who still looked dumbfounded (he was the least smartest of the three guys).

“Oh, I’m just waiting something grouse to happen! It’s coming very soon!” KipKoala had finally responded to Dogday, assuming that there was a surprise party planned for him—but he wouldn’t ruin his own birthday, would he?

“Okay! See ya soon!” Dogday cheerily waved goodbye, as he left with both KickinChicken and Bubba Bubbaphant arguing over brains over brawn, or the reverse.

—

A few hours had come by, as KipKoala had purposefully steered away from coming back to his house to let the rest of the Smiling Critters finish setting up of what they had. Eating some delicious Eucalyptus leaves (just like his scent), napping some more, and generally having some fun all throughout the day. Of course, he would have more fun when the surprise birthday was here.

At the end of the day, KipKoala whistled casually as he walked towards his home (which resembled that of both a tree house and a natural life reserve).

He opened the door with a big wide smile on his face—and nobody was there. No balloons. No party hats. Not even a birthday cake.

KipKoala frowned. What happened? He had spent the entire day having a good time, and they hadn’t even bothered to set up even some party decorations? There must be a good explanation to this, thought KipKoala.

Then suddenly, he heard music coming out from somewhere else. KipKoala, curious, listened closely as he walked towards the place that the music was coming from.

Eventually, he found himself at Catnap’s house, which was the last place he ever wanted to go to. But the music was coming from here, and he wanted to check it out what was going on, so KipKoala peered through the window.

He wish he hadn’t.

All the Smiling Critters were there, dancing around and having a good time. Catnap was drowsily munching on some cake while he slept through the whole thing. It seemed like everyone was having fun like they never had before.

KipKoala kept staring through the window, just… standing there. He didn’t know what to do anymore. He didn’t know what to feel. It was as if the whole world had crumbled beneath his feet, and buried him under.

After a while, he left, walking away from Catnap’s house and towards his own. His head was down, as he had never felt saddened before in his own life.

KipKoala wondered if he truly had been a bad friend. After all, they seemingly had forgotten his birthday. He wondered if he was worth anything, heck, even if he was worth something at least, then somebody would’ve been there for him.

But there was nobody there for him.

Just himself.

When he came back to his house a second time, he didn’t bother making dinner for himself. He didn’t even bother to brush his teeth and shower. KipKoala just sat on his bed, as he looked around for a moment, seeing everything he had—even a shotgun next to the side of his head, in case he wanted to do it. He was just thinking to himself. Just himself.

Tears swelled up in his eyes, as he ever so silently wept in the darkness of his bedroom. He slowly put his hands to his face to stop the waterfall of tears, but they couldn’t stop. They wouldn’t.

Then, KipKoala heard something, as he wiped away his tears. He wasn’t sure what it was. Did somebody break into his house? He grabbed his shotgun, as he looked around for a moment.

Well, at least I won’t be alone anymore, thought KipKoala as he grimly joked… before seeing a figure in the shadows.

He dropped his shotgun, staring at the figure, like he had when he was staring through the window. Though this time, it was out of fear. Who were they? What did they want?

Then, KipKoala wasn’t in his room anymore, as he looked around panicking. The darkness of his bedroom had now become a shadowy void all around him. Just him.

He started to run, as he felt something behind him. Of course, there could be no one, and he was just scared, but he didn’t stop around to wait and find out.

KipKoala just kept running, and running, as several of the Smiling Critters appeared—except that their faces were shattered like glass, with there being nothing inside.

Once again, he put his hands to his own face, screaming internally as distorted cries and laughter was all he heard while he ran.

The noises just couldn’t stop.

They wouldn’t.

KipKoala continued running, until he saw his shotgun just up ahead. He had considered using the shotgun against who was chasing him, until he realized something—he could end this. Nobody cared if he was gone. He would be free out of his misery once and for all.

The noises were getting louder and louder, ever so louder.

Louder.

Louder.

LOUDER.

LOUDER—

Then, a bang was now heard from KipKoala’s house.

And then, there was only silence.

—

After saying goodbye to their friend, Catnap, the rest of the Smiling Critters went towards KipKoala’s house. They had planned to wish Catnap a happy birthday, and then KipKoala. It seemed fair to the most of them.

Surprisingly, when they got there, the door was left right open. KipKoala must’ve had accidentally left it open—no way he would’ve done it on purpose.

The Smiling Critters looked around the house, searching for him, until Bubba Bubbaphant suggested that they go look upstairs.

One by one, they did so, as the unofficial leader of the group, Dogday came across KipKoala’s bedroom.

Telling the other Smiling Critters, they slowly opened the door, and flicked the lights on.

That night, it was as if a million screams were heard.

—

The following day, everyone wept for KipKoala’s passing, as some of them put flowers on his gravestone. They wished they hadn’t truly been such bad friends.

After everyone left, you could see the words clearly engraved on Kipkoala’s gravestone now.

It was, in the form of these words:

“Bye-Bye, Kippy.”

[rustedhearts]

every corner (steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: it's been 7 months since you said goodbye to steve. most exes that fell out of love move on and never speak. but you never really fell out of love, did you?

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♡ everytime (part one) ♡ the library ♡ the record store

tags: mention of past substance abuse; angst; hurt/not much comfort; pining and yearning; smut.

a/n: here we are, an entire year later. hope you enjoy. love you (and soft, sad everytime steve) forever!

ko-fi (because i graduated from college recently if you wanted to leave a tip!)

"nothing happened in the way I wanted, every corner of this house haunted. and I know you said that we're not talking...but I miss you."

— i miss you, i'm sorry, gracie abrams

halloween night, 1999

The familiar tune of Michael Myers' entrance has you clutching the knitted blanket closer to your chest, cowering behind your knees to shield the tv. The grainy picture glows through the living room, illuminating half-eaten Chinese takeout and four cherry Pepsi cans. You had a bucket of popcorn on the cushion beside you and a bag of Red Vines near your feet. A party for one, completely alcohol free.

It's been four months since you've had even a sip, and it pained you to say that maybe your friends were right. You did have a problem.

You were still gaining their trust and friendship back, tiptoeing around past mistakes and attempting to right them.

After that drunken night at Eddie's house over the summer—when Steve rescued you from stupor and tucked you into bed—your friends had an intervention. Sat you down—sober, grumpy, and lashing out—and fixed you with some tough love.

"Clinging to Steve isn't gonna help either of you move on," Robin said. "It's not gonna help you get better. And you need to get better."

You sat back on Eddie's couch with your arms crossed and your legs tucked up, glaring at the wall above her head. Back then, you took their stern attitudes as hatred. You thought they were being mean, coming down on you for your own heartbreak.

But they were ten steps ahead of you. They saw the spiral before you could even recognize it happening.

"You're not in it alone, Steve has some fault in this, too. But...I think you guys need some time apart. Real time, no contact. It's the only way I think you'll get sober."

You moved your eyes to Eddie, who was wringing his hands together and tossing you a furrow-browed look. Gwen massaged his bicep lovingly, and you turned your eyes away again.

"We love you," Gwen added. "But when you're drunk, or high...you're harder to love."

So you stopped drinking. Stopped smoking anything that wasn't nicotine, started sublimating with caffeine. It wasn't a complete cold break, but you had to start somewhere.

The only downside to sober life was the distance you felt from your friends. The parties and get-togethers didn't stop, but you had to stop attending most of them. Of course, you didn't expect your friends to stop drinking or smoking just because you did. Eddie Munson would always be a pothead—but he wasn't an addict. He didn't have to keep himself away from it, because he knew when to stop. That was the difference between you and your friends.

Your lack of control.

Which is why, when your phone rang every few weeks and Steve's voice came through the other side, you just...didn't tell anyone about it.

You figured they must've sat him down and had a similar conversation to yours. Told him to stay away, move on, find some other way to cope that didn't involve bothering you.

But they didn't get it. You grew up together. You can't just forget your first love.

And right now, you're sitting on the couch cushion closest to the end table where your phone waits. You find your eyes meeting the still and silent cradle every few scenes, and every time you get up to get another snack or use the bathroom, you're on high alert. Waiting for the shrill ring. Waiting for the call you know is coming.

Because Eddie and Gwen host a Halloween costume party every year, and Steve is always in attendance. Despite his distaste for getting drunk and stupid, he loves a competition—and he always wins best costume.

And right now Steve is 20 minutes away, sitting on a couch much like you are, nursing a lukewarm beer and staring at a couple cuddled in the armchair. He watches the man tuck her hair behind her ear, watches the girl kiss his jaw and nuzzle her nose in his neck. You used to do that. Used to tell him how good he smelled after working up a sweat, licking it from his skin without apology.

Steve pinches his eyes shut, inhaling sharply. He needs to stop thinking about you. He needs to stop remembering the way you touched his body, the way you loved him with your mouth and hands because you never knew how to use your words.

The blunt edge of his nail rips the soggy paper wrapped around his beer bottle. He's itching to call you. He quite literally feels sick about the thought of forgetting the way you pronounce his name, the way your voice wraps around words in their own special way. He can't remember which version of 'either' you used, and it's killing him.

He's forgetting you.

He can't forget you.

Eddie and Gwen are in the kitchen laughing and mingling with other couples. Robin's flirting with a girl in the corner, hand pressed against the wall above her head. They'll go home together, and Steve will go home alone.

No one's watching. So, he picks up the phone.

He dials your number with quick and eager fingers, gripping the phone with antsy hunger. His heel bounces on the carpet, fingers drumming his knee.

Your eyes slide to the phone a split second before it rings. Every nerve in your body began to buzz in anticipation before that first trill, and you almost knock over the popcorn in your hurried rush to receive the phone.

But you pull back. Sit back on the couch and retract your hand. You watch the phone shake on the cradle stand, rattle the lamp behind it on the table. It rings once, twice, three times. At Eddie's, Steve thinks about hanging up and grows sicker.

You pick up the phone before it stops.

"Hello?"

Steve exhales, lets a smile touch his face. He focuses on the beer bottle wedged between his thighs to avoid seeming too giddy.

"Hey."

You slide back against the couch, turning the tv down. You fondle a sticky Red Vine mindlessly as silence passes between the pair of you. It's been two weeks since you last spoke—the longest you'd gone. Pathetic, isn't it? You haven't been together in almost seven months, yet you can't go more than two weeks without talking.

You tried not to let the thick, sick feeling in your throat at the thought mean much.

"You at home?"

You try not to giggle at the obvious. But he was just filling the space. He just wanted to hear you speak again.

"Yeah."

Steve tears another rip in the beer label. "Which Halloween are you on?"

Your gaze moves to the tv again, where you grin at the movie playing. "The third."

"Blech," Steve groans. "That one sucks."

"I know," you giggle at his playful distaste. "But I don't like skipping through a series."

Steve waits a beat. He rotates the bottle between his legs to peel the back. The beer sloshes around, and he knows the next swig of it will be disgustingly warm.

"All the lights on, too?"

Your eyes bounce around the room at the various lamps glowing soft yellow light through the room. The light filtering through the hall from your bedroom, the one clicked on above the sink in the kitchen. Your lip turns upward.

"Yeah."

Your chest squeezes at the thought of Steve knowing you so well. It wasn't that long ago that he was curled up next to you during a Halloween movie marathon, soothing you when you'd shriek, chuckling when you hid your face in his chest. He always took scary movies as an opportunity to cradle and baby you, because it wasn't often you let him.

Maybe that's why they were his favorite now.

Steve tugs the beer free from his legs and tipped back a swig. He winces as the warm liquid slid down his throat, face soured with disgust. His eyes slide toward the corner of the room where Robin and her current infatuation are giggling. He can hear Eddie's voice squawking in the kitchen, but it's growing closer.

He runs a hand down his face and shakes his head, knowing the next words to leave his mouth will be stupid and another space filler. "You scared?"

You snicker through your nose. He hears a soft snap when your teeth tear at a Red Vine. "Maybe a little."

He gnaws on his bottom lip a moment, gripping the neck of his beer bottle tightly. His stomach is in the knot of all knots, sitting somewhere between his chest and his throat. The next words are weighing him down and he spits them out before he loses the gall.

"Want me to come over?"

The line buzzes. Your living room vignettes, the top layer of skin under your sweatshirt littered with goosebumps. Swallowing down the candy comes with difficulty. You can only seem to stare at the bright light of the television, switching between pictures.

At Eddie's, Steve drops his head into his hands and tugs hard at the top of his hair, tapping the phone against his forehead in self-reprimand.

"Steve?"

He puts the phone back to his ear quickly. "Yeah?" His voice is so much smaller, croaked.

"Is that...is that a good idea?" You trust his judgement more than yours.

Steve cranes his head over his shoulder, peering around the corner into the kitchen. Eddie and Gwen are leaning against the kitchen sink, the latter tucked under his arm. He has a polaroid at the bottom of his sock drawer of all four of you in that very spot when Eddie first moved into the apartment. It was July and you did all the heavy lifting yourselves.

"I don't know," Steve sighs. His hand is still in his hair, twisting at the roots until it hurts.

But it still doesn't hurt as much as the squeezing in his chest.

"I don't think it is," you whisper.

Steve lets go of his hair and scratches at his stinging scalp. "Yeah. Yeah, yeah, you're right."

He taps his finger on the other side of the phone. He tightens his grip on the beer bottle and it creaks under the weight. He imagines himself throwing it across the room just to hear the shatter, but he would never do such a thing. Not in his best friend's home.

"Would it be the last time?"

Steve perks up, lifting his head from where it's drooped toward his lap. His cheeks suddenly hold a heat that burns, and it's traveling down his neck.

"Y-yeah. Yeah, it...it can be," he fumbles, swallowing thickly. He doesn't want it to be the last time.

You pluck a piece of stray popcorn from your sweater and toss it back into the bowl. You eye the mess on your coffee table and wonder how long it would take you to clean up and light a candle to mask the fact that you haven't cleaned in over a week.

Steve hasn't seen your new place. He hasn't seen how well you've been doing.

If anyone asks, you were just showing him.

"Okay...grab some more cherry Pepsi on your way over?"

Steve leaps from the couch, tugging the phone cord with him and dragging the tablecloth askew. He curses under his breath, jolting to grab the cradle before it falls off the end table.

"Ye-yeah—yes! I will. I'll...I'll be there."

Your lips press into a smile. "Okay."

He can barely contain his grin as he slams the phone down and clumsily fixes the end table back into its original state. He snatches his jacket thrown on the back of the couch and rushes out of the room, toward the kitchen where his keys are sitting near the stove.

"Hey, buddy," Eddie coos as Steve scrambles for his belongings. "Where ya been?"

Steve shoves his keys into his pocket, jacket balled in his fist. He barely spares Eddie or Gwen a glance as he pushes past the bodies blocking the door.

"Uh...I gotta go. Gotta, um..."

Steve pauses, shoe squeaking on the kitchen tile when he turns on his heel to face his friends. Heat rushes to his face again, cheeks coloring a deep red. He hooks his thumb over his shoulder toward the door.

When Eddie and Gwen blink at him, Steve sighs defeatedly and drops his hands. He neglects any attempt at an excuse in his eagerness to see you.

"I gotta go, guys."

Before either can interrogate his vagueness, Steve is spinning around and rushing the door, nearly knocking everyone else over along the way. He fumbles over his feet down the stairs to the lobby, where he flings the front doors open to the parking lot. The BMW clicks open easily, and he's thankful for her reliability as he starts the engine and screeches toward the street.

At home, you're throwing all trash into the bin and spraying perfume to hide the smell. You rake through your appearance to throw it into something more presentable, but you know Steve likes a frazzled, "lazy" look more than anything. He always said he preferred you in your pajamas or one of his faded t-shirts.

You're bent over grabbing a piece of crust from this morning's toast under the kitchen table when the door rattles under a heavy fist. You jerk up, hurriedly tossing the toast into the bin before pushing it back under the sink. You stand in front of the door for a moment, fussing with your hair and adjusting the hem of your sweater. You can hear Steve's shuffling behind the door, and when you peek through the peep-hole, he's anxiously running his hand through the front of his hair.

It's shorter, a little lighter—but always handsome.

The door swings open just as Steve lifts his fist to knock again. He's holding a single can of cherry Pepsi in one hand and his keys in the other.

You realize as your eyes roam his appearance, that he isn't even wearing a costume.

"Hi," he breathes.

You smile, pushing the door open all the way. "Hi."

One foot enters the doorway, sneaker thumping on the linoleum tile. It crunches under his weight when he steps all the way in, keys clattering on the doorframe when he presses his hand there. He hasn't changed his cologne since sophomore year of high school and it sends you spiraling back to homecoming football games and prom night in his backseat.

Your teeth dig into your cheek, gnawing down the swirling in your stomach as Steve's eyes mimic yours and trace your body. They start at your shoulders, roaming down to your feet where your toes curl under a pair of fuzzy pink socks. In the other room, the television shrieks with a horrific scream. Neither of you even flinch.

Instead, Steve pushes off the doorway and takes another step into the kitchen. He swings the door shut behind him and you jump when it slams. He doesn't even move. But his keys skate over the countertop when he throws them, and the cherry Pepsi can hisses on its roll toward the other side of the kitchen when it falls from his hand.

And then they're on your face—those big, warm hands. Cupping your cheeks and propping your jaw, pulling you in with a familiar, firm grip. They're squeezing the back of your neck when he slants his mouth over yours and inhales sharply. Breathing you in—because finally, finally he can breathe again.

You whimper against his teeth when your back bumps into the counter, and he's pulling you off by the back of your neck to move his hold down to your hips, cushioning them from the hard surface. Always the giver.

When you pop away from his mouth, you bring your fingers to your own, slick with saliva and pulsing with bitten soreness.

"What if we made a mistake?" Steve rushes out, eyes wild and settled on your face.

"W-what?"

"What if we made a mistake? We were kids, and maybe...maybe things would be better now—"

"Steve—"

"Don't say anything. Not yet. We can talk tomorrow. Just...if this our last night, I don't wanna spend it talking."

You meet his eyes, softening once more. One hand leaves your hip to brush your cheek and trail down your neck. He ghosts them over the spot below your ear, where you shiver and giggle when he breathes hot air.

"Okay." You nod.

And then his mouth is back on yours. His hands are moving and squeezing and grabbing, and his throat is thick with moans and uneasy breaths.

This is the last night, you think, as he lays you down in bed.

The last time, you promise, when he leaves every inch of your body covered in spit-soaked kisses.

And when the phone rings as he's sucking on your neck and digging bruises into your hips, you let it go. You know it isn't him on the other line, because he's finally in your arms again.

For the very last time.

[mehthepharmacist]

Hi MEH

All I’m wondering is are you mad at me or are you just not interested in me. You’ve always been nice to me and given me encouragement through my undergraduate. In fact you’re one of the reasons I even made it through BMD with a 3.1gpa. I’m writing this letter to tell you thank you. I hope I don’t have to tell you goodbye.

Orgo 2 was the first time I ever saw you and I thought you were the most beautiful girl in the class. I remember you missing the first lab because I asked the guy next to me to be my partner. Then you walked in the next week and I immediately dropped him and asked you to be my partners. I had missed other opportunities to be partners with the people I wanted and I was determined that was not going to happen with you. Thank you for accepting. You taught me how to esthetically organize my notebook. I still have it today with your signatures my partner. I thought your notebook was the most beautiful of the whole class. I remember our partnership being awkward we didn’t talk a whole lot, but I loved every minute of it. I didn’t realize we were in the same class section until Dr. P called on you to display your Diet Coke to the class. I wish I had moved to sit with you.

My favorite class with you was anatomy. I walked into class on the first day, saw you sitting on the back left all alone, and I knew I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to enjoy your company. We didn’t talk much. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to be friendly. Thank you for helping me study in that class. I had no study method until that class and you helped me crystallize a method that I used for the rest of my undergrad. I was so excited to study with you. I thought our relationship was actually going somewhere during that time. I hope you took the Chick fil a coupons. The story behind them was my dad’s business worked for chick fil a and instead of payment in cash they paid him of cards.

I remember every moment we passed in the hallway of the HAHN. I wanted to ask you to lunch everyday and one day I finally muster up the courage to do it. Thank you for accepting. That lunch was also awkward. I tripped over my words so much at that lunch. I hope I didn’t say anything of offense to you. I asked what your sister was studying and you said biology. Then I think I said something about how BMD was a harder degree than biology. I regret giving that implication and wish I could redo that conversation. I’m sorry I never talked to you after that lunch. I really liked you but was too petrified to say anything to you. I went to the library as often as I could in the hopes of seeing you and one day finding the determination to talk to you, but that day never came. I saw you one day leaving the library we greeted each other and I said this was the second time going to the library that day. You wished we well and that was the end of the interaction.

I’ve been contemplating with myself why I never talked to you about starting a relationship and I came up with several conclusions. 1) I wasn’t ready. I acted so puerile while I was in college. I was no different than how I asked in high school. I feel so childish right now writing this stupid letter. I wanted to finish school before getting married and I didn’t want to date for very long before marrying. So I was determined to not get into a relationship before graduating. 2) I felt inferior. I didn’t have my life together. I wanted to be a dentist, but I was not taking to steps to follow through with that goal. You had a goal of going to pharmacy school and you achieved that only having to apply once to Harrison school of Pharmacy. That achievement was so attracting. 3) I liked being single. I didn’t want to give up my single life. I could do anything I wanted when I want to do it. I had no obligations to see anyone or be anywhere. I didn’t want to loose that freedom.

Reasons why I wanted to have a relationship with you. 1) I loved your friendship with your sister. I grew up in a church with many broken families that were always at each other’s neck. You were one of the first sisters who had a healthy relationship. I remember you two sitting on a bench in the foyer of ILB before your sister went to Physics 2 lab. You were just catching up on the day. I wish my brother had gone to South with me. 2) I loved your relationship with your parents. Many families I knew had parent that were nonexistent, in jail, or always on drugs. On Facebook you always had fun with your parents. That was so attracted to me. I know you might think that is such an insignificant detail about your life, but it was the world to me. 3) you were a Christian with a healthy relationship with God. That is such a rare thing to find these days. You lived in a city away from your parents and found a church to attend on a weekly basis. I can’t say that I would have done the same thing. I love post on facebook of you going to ladies events with your mom and sister. There is no one in my friend group who does that. 4) your ambition for the medical field. It’s not just that you want to be in the medical field, but that you strived to be a Dr. in the field. The best of the best and holding such a load of responsibility. This combination of attributes is why I wanted to have a relationship with you.

I hope this letter find you well. I might be a stalker and creep, but I just want to tell you I love you and thank you for being apart of my life at USA. My encounter with you has been the greatest learning experience of my life. I’ve learned to act on my feeling. I was partially successful in this when I asked you to be my lab partner and sitting with you in anatomy was the best decisions I made. What I failed to do was start a relationship with someone who possessed all the personality traits I wanted to a wife even though it went against my relationship goals. I guess at this point it’s obvious you’re not interested in me. I just with I could have heard you say it. I seemed as if you were interested because you went to lunch with me. I guess that interest left when I never talked to you again. I’m sorry I could never talk to you.

I remember our texts in Aug. 2019, but I don’t want to talk about that.

I currently live on my own and I’ve made up my mind I’m better off living alone. I took a job as a perfusion/anesthesia assistant. I love it and want to do this for the rest of my life. The perfusion part not the assistant. I’m applying to perfusion school and I think I have a pretty good chance of being accepted this year. I hope to find a nice girl in school or I might show up in Dothan one day. Haha.

Be the best pharmacist you can be.

Love,

Caleb

[animalcrackersinmyhead]

3.31.23

I grab onto the mundane and hold it like I coddle my mouse for my keyboard. Perhaps it is by the mundane that I interface with the human processor I’ve been given. Maybe I find a will to live hidden underneath the piece of mail from a credit card company that sits on my table because my trash is too full to fit anything inside. Maybe It is hiding behind the string of colored paper lanterns folded into a small box that sits on my kitchen countertop unpacked. Or is it twisted in the orange tank top that fell behind my green couch that I’ve been too lazy to grab.

I can hope. I can hope something as insignificant as a clean floor could clean my thoughts up for a while longer.

My plants are dying. I feel remorse and shame. I keep replaying that scene in you’ve got mail where Kathleen Kelly writes an email to NY152 talking about how it felt her mother had died all over when her shop closed. Watching my plants die in slow motion because I have stared at them so much lately that I think I am starting to observe the dying process. It’s gradual then suddenly it’s there and doesn’t feel gradual at all. I find myself staring at their wilted green remnants flopped from their stems. It’s like they are acting out the word “sorry” and seeing if I will bite. I bite I bite. I watered them two days ago. I keep telling myself that maybe that one watering will be enough for them to last forever. Silly.

 I’ve been flirting with more thoughts of dying.  It’s like sliced summer sausage on ritz crackers. It entices me like a dirty spoon. I’ve been allowing more thoughts in just to see, What am I really made of? What do I really want? Do I want to die? Really, do I?

Today I called a woman and unbeknownst to me, she had just tried to kill herself. She said she swallowed two pieces of glass but then it hurt so bad she had to call the ambulance. She was waiting for them to arrive and she followed the wave of panicked, hysterical, crying, then silence, then quick talking and brief laughter where I even forgot there was glass somewhere in her anatomy.  It seemed to come in waves. Struck by the timing of the event I found an ease in navigating the situation because of my curiosity towards this woman and event in time and because I sorta envied her. Except waiting for the ambulance part- now that part I don’t envy. I was curious, really curious what the sensation of glass tearing her throat apart felt like. We ended up talking about her love of makeup, hair, and fashion instead. Ten minutes later we said our goodbyes and I told her I am sending positive thoughts that I hope materialize themselves into matter and improve her life in some cosmic way this weekend. I wonder where she is at while I write this. Maybe lying in a hospital bed with the sound of a tv playing in the background as she struggles to sleep, Maybe she died. I plan to call her Monday but so curious what she is up to. Carolan, what an odd way to spell a name. What an odd way to choose to die. What an odd human. I liked her. I liked that she swallowed glass. Can I say that? Sure! But really, why glass? Did she read about it somewhere? Was it some poetic symbolism like to reflect her fragility? I wonder.

Earlier I went to the kitchen and grabbed a fortune cookie and whispered to it that whatever the fortune is will be if I kill myself or not. The fortune said I would be sitting on top of the world. I laughed.

I met with a therapist yesterday. Interesting. I enjoyed it and was surprised by that. So I said fuck it and purchased 6 sessions. Many things I need to work through. She looks, sounds, acts JUST like Madison which makes me feel safe. Madison is a human that allows me to stretch out my limbs and not pretend to be a modern day sapien. If mindfulness ever wanted to take human form it would be Madison. She’s been my anchor throughout these years. I’ve seen her in her trenches and triumphs. All of this to say, I feel comfortable with this therapist. We laughed a lot. She is a delightful creature.

Earlier today I saw a former coworker from my last job. Last time I saw her, I was sitting across from her in my office giving her a performance review. I saw areas of improvement but she was only 5 ish months in and I was delighted by her progress. Then, my supervisors canned her the next day without any justifiable reason and without seeking my opinion. I am still outraged about that to this day. She was the only black person there and I can’t help if racism I others led to that decision because as someone who was actively checking her work and evaluating it, I saw a hardworking woman that maybe was slower to learn things initially, once she grasped them, she was diligent in her execution… then the next day, without a justifiable reason, they let her go. So here she was in front of me at my new work place. We both lit up and yelped when we saw each other. I was able to speak my opinion on it and she seemed like her shoulder knocked off rocks of weight from their caps when she realized she had done a great job and that I felt no reason to fire her. Genuinely. I don’t get it. Another woman who was white and didn’t work and had little to no computer productivity stayed a year longer, others years. Anyways, she found a better place to work at and that made me very hapy for her. I was so thrilled to see her.

Earlier in the day, I spoke to a man crying on the phone who had just left the hospital for a suicide attempt and was recounting to me how 5 friends and family members have killed themselves in front of him on different occasions. After that I talked to a mother who was mustering all the strength in the world to not cry on the phone with me while she told me how her daughter wants to kill herself. This life isn’t easy. I wonder how electrons are feeling about it all.

[nix-the-night]

Body

A while ago, I was again, looking at myself in the mirror and carefully noticing each of my body imperfections, as usual, and while I was doing this and, as usual, feeling bad for not being how I wanted to be, I started to reflect on why I felt that way. After reflecting for a long time, I realized that the reason for this is that I feel as if what's inside of me doesn't have outside as well, as if my shell, my body, isn't the same as what I have inside me, and it made me fell awkward and anxious, because a lot of the things in my body are things I can't change. Of course, I can continue with my workouts and with my diet to try to lose weight, but that also has a limit, my bones are wide, my thighs are thick, and my body in general is too robust and nothing I do will change that.

And it's not just thoughts about my appearance in general, they're also about my gender and how it expresses itself in my body. Everything I say from here may sound very weird, but these are thoughts that I really have, and I feel like I should say this somewhere, so please don't judge me.

I am non-binary, however, I was born into a body that for me, it doesn't fit how I really feel, like I said above, I don't fit him, I feel uncomfortable, for me, it's like what's inside of me isn't outside too and that hurts a lot. I have always observed other people's bodies, every detail of the human body, the external anatomy and how it all comes together to form a magnificent and beautiful person, and with that, I'm mainly talking about the female body. Of course, for me the male body can also be beautiful, but the female has something that calls my attention, somehow. Not only in the sense that I want to see this body (not always in a sexual way), but I want to have this body. I want to look more feminine. But I can't, because the conditions of the body in which I was born don't allow me this.

I feel weird saying this, but at least I have the anonymity of the internet on my side (so much so that's why I decided to use a fake name and a different language to post here), but still, please don't judge me, it's just thoughts I have sometimes, and I wanted to share it with you.

Anyway… take care.

Goodbye.

[juyeoniemyhoney]

nothing ever goes the way you want it to.

In this episode of disasters you could have avoided if you were not a liar: every time you look at Juyeon, you start sweating and your heart starts beating like you're a criminal in an interrogation. This was supposed to be strictly business. But of course, nothing ever goes the way you want it to and it truly shows after today's events.

-pairing: lee juyeon x reader

-genre: fluff, at this point it's slow burn i am so sorry

-warnings: some foul language, you lowkey watch juyeon while he sleeps (in the least creepy way possible), the only medical knowledge i have is from grey's anatomy and hospital ship

-word count: 5546 words

-A/N: i like lowkey fell off the face of the earth, i know. but it's ok!!!! because im back now!! (kinda). i'm having exams now and i'm really busy studying and finishing applications for school and other things so if i like don't update until like november, i'm really sorry. but for now, i really hope you enjoy this mess because honestly i don't know where this series is going:D

read other parts of rent a boyfie -> here!

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Time has always been a little iffy to you. When you want it to go by fast, it goes by excruciatingly slow. And when you want it to go by slowly, it goes by at the speed of light. It conforms to nothing and just goes on and on forever on its own accord. And that is probably the most infuriating thing about it. This rings especially true as you periodically, obsessively take glances at the wall clock in front of you in between each word you write.

After you and Juyeon said your goodbyes, your shift had started off like any other normal day. Albeit, you were a little curious as to whom Juyeon was visiting and had thought and wondered about it for the first few hours of your shift, everything else was normal. You did your rounds, updated patient records, sat in and even took part in surgeries, took notes and studied and slept as much as you could in your downtime and went to check in on your patients multiple times.

It felt normal until an hour before your shift ended.

That's when things started to feel a little bit like a fever dream.

For one, when the clock struck three in the morning, you came to terms with the fact that you would not be able to sleep at all. In the past three hours, you had tried relentlessly, but was awoken each time by the incessant beeping of your pager.

Then, at about five, as you stared holes into your textbook, you realised that in about twelve hours, Juyeon and your mother would be in your apartment. Somewhere at the start of your shift, your mother had texted you saying that she would reach your apartment at about five in the evening. And at four, Juyeon had sent you a text asking for your address. You ignored both messages in hopes that you were just dreaming. And to a certain extent, it worked. But at five, as you were tackling the many different symptoms of various diseases, you were suddenly struck with the realisation that this wasn't a dream. They would be in your house at five, your mother gleefully unpacking food she'd brought from her house, Juyeon sitting at the other side (or possibly next to you) at your dinner table, holding conversations with your mother and with you. And this time, you don't have your siblings there to carry the conversation so that you can tune your hearing out.

You don't even know why you are so upset about it. You're not usually quite this uptight. You suppose it is just because you don't want Juyeon in your house. It feels much too intimate. Your flat is not quite as decorated as you want it to be because you just don't have the time to set anything up other than the necessary furniture. In fact, you think it looks exactly the same as when you first got it six years ago. But you shower there. And sleep there most of the time. And on your days off, you sit on the couch and watch shows. And you eat at that dining table almost every day. And you just know that Juyeon being there, in that domestic setting of your life when your feelings are already making you so confused, is only going to confuse you more.

Then, it was an hour before your shift ended. And you were beyond exhausted. You hadn't slept a wink but you were finishing your reports on patients in the wards and clinics for the next doctor on shift, making notes for them and writing down reminders for them to take care of. You would think that after a few months of this vicious cycle, you would have gotten used to the brutality of it, that your body would accommodate and learn that this should be normal by now. But with everything that is happening, your mother, your fake relationship, your growing pile of lies, and Juyeon, it felt like you hadn't slept in forever. But you persisted on.

So now, about ten minutes before your shift ends, you are itching to get off; to go home, take a long, warm shower and sleep off your worries until the doorbell rings and you have to face your mother and fake boyfriend once again. You are so close to your freedom, you can almost taste it. Until the PA system sounds and your pager beeps with insistent urgency. You almost groan when you read the two dreaded words, the calm voice of a nurse narrating it out for you in case you thought you read your pager wrongly.

"Attention all doctors and nurses, code blue in ward 42, bed 4. I repeat code blue in ward 42, bed 4."

Though you are utterly dreading it, though all you want to do is go home and sleep for the next forty-eight hours, you are sprinting in the direction of the bed before the announcement can even finish, running as fast as you can because a life depends on it. After all, this is your job and you are supposed to save people despite yourself.

By the time the patient was resuscitated (and thank god he was), your shift had ended half an hour ago. And by the time you finish updating the records and keeping the other doctors and nurses updated and well informed about him and other patients, it is nearing eleven in the morning and it has been two hours after your shift was supposed to end.

As you make your way to your locker to get your things and change out of your scrubs and coat, doctors and nurses who look significantly more well-rested than you send you waves and bright, energetic smiles, wishing you a safe trip home and a well rest. You try your best to be polite and to not let your pure exhaustion shine through, but by the time the fifth person greets you, the most you can manage is a weak smile as you hastily slip into the locker room, changing and gathering your things within five minutes before you are rushing out of the hospital like it is a haunted house and you have been thoroughly traumatised.

You are almost running out the front doors when someone calls your name, stopping you in your tracks. You let out a disgruntled grunt, grumpy and sleep-deprived and already robbed of two hours of your free time, as you turn around to face the nurse who called you. Her name is Stacy and she's relatively new to your hospital. You are by no means her boss and have almost zero authority here, being about halfway through your intern year. But you definitely did come here before her, making you her senior. And as her senior, you are easily ready to blow her head off with an unwarranted scolding because she is disturbing you right now and you will have none of it whatsoever.

"Stacy, please, if you have a question please ask the doctors who have just clocked in. I just clocked out and I really don't want to entertain you," you say with a sigh, wholeheartedly wanting to scold her, but not having it in you when you know that she does not deserve it. Stacy is nice, she's relatively easy to talk to and she listens and follows instructions well. You don't really want to come off as the asshole just because she caught you at a bad timing.

"Oh, no, Dr Y/N, I don't have a question. It's just that, that man over there," she pauses to gesture to the man sitting at the bench with his back turned to the two of you, his head hung as if he were sleeping. You get a weird feeling in your gut when he looks familiar to you. "he's been waiting for you for two hours.".

"What?" you wonder out loud, brain completely unable to register anything due to your lack of sleep and the sheer lethargy that is beginning to kick in, after all, you should be asleep by now.

You thank Stacy for letting you know and apologise for being so rude, bidding her farewell before you approach the man, taking cautious, tentative steps towards him, all the while wondering who he is. And then when his face finally comes into view, it hits you like a brick to the face.

"Juyeon?" you ask, gently and hesitantly shaking him awake. He wakes easily, eyelids lifting and eyelashes untangling as he takes a while to realise what is happening before he looks up to meet your gaze, eyes heavy-lidded and hazy as he struggles to pull free from his daze. Then, the corners of his lips tilt up upon recognition, slinging into a lazy smile as he gets up from his seat, causing you to stumble backwards and away from him as he draws to his full height.

"Hi Y/N," he greets you. "Good morning. No offence, but, you look like you haven't slept in ten years," he comments as he shoves his hands into his pockets and walks away, expecting you to follow suit as he makes his way to the exit of the hospital. You follow him, though you are beyond confused as to why he is here.

"Wait, why are you here?" you ask him, ignoring his previous statement as you grab his elbow to ask him to slow down. To your surprise, he understands your request before you have time to verbalise it, his pace slowing down as he takes smaller steps, falling into step beside you.

"I came to pick you up," he says like it's the most obvious thing in the world, glancing down at you through the corner of his eyes, eyebrows slightly raised in amusement.

"But I didn't tell you what time I end," you say, glancing up to him as the two of you walk through the automatic doors, the early winter wind blowing your hair out of your face and forcing a shiver down your spine as the two of you cross the carpark to Juyeon's car.

"I realised that because I dropped you off, you wouldn't have a car. And I have a friend who works in this hospital and he told me that interns usually have fourteen-hour shifts. So I came. Either way, I had a delivery to make so," Juyeon explains in a lazy drawl, not quite annunciating his words properly, almost like he is too tired to.

"You didn't have to," you murmur. You feel your neck heat up under the collar of your coat, utterly embarrassed and exasperated that Juyeon was this thoughtful.

"It's the least I could do after how badly I messed up yesterday," he says with a grimace as he unlocks the car with keys. "And it seems that it was a good decision on my part. You haven't slept at all, have you?"

The conversation halts as the two of you slide yourselves into the leather seats of his car, Juyeon turning on the engine and turning up the heater as you buckle your seatbelt in silence.

"You can sleep if you want. Just tell me your address first," Juyeon says when you don't answer his question. You do so without a single argument, allowing Juyeon to enter your address into the sat-nav before closing your eyes and slouching in your seat, allowing the silence and the soft humming of the car to gently rock you to sleep.

The way you are so comfortable around Juyeon slightly scares you. Every time you feel comfortable around him, you are reminded of the very real fact that you have known him all of four days. And that only terrifies you more. You are trusting him to take you home safely as you sleep in his car, not even doubting his intentions for a second. You suppose you can trust him, after all, you accidentally fell asleep last evening and he had safely delivered you to your job. But before you fall asleep for the second time in his car, you wonder if this is what your sister had meant when she first told you about her husband.

If this is an otherworldly connection.

She told you that there's a Japanese myth where there are two people connected by an invisible red string and that these two people are soulmates. Whenever they got too far away from each other, the red string would always bring them back together. They are connected by their hearts and by fate itself, meeting by great happenstance, or realising the sheer level of their connection by a serendipitous epiphany.

But before you can consider how you feel about Juyeon, or just how connected you think the two of you are, you are falling into a deep sleep, allowing your dreams to take over.

-

When you wake up, it is because Juyeon calls your name softly with gentle jostles to your shoulders. For a second, in your sleepy daze, you have a bout of deja vu, remembering that this exact moment had occurred less than a day ago. But when you come about your senses, your eyes open as much as your exhausted eyelids allow you to, bloodshot and stinging with its stubborn want to just shut close again as you sit upright in your seat and clear your gravelly throat, running a hand through your day-old hair. You look out past the dashboard and recognise that you are parked in the familiar carpark of your flat complex as Juyeon switches off the engine and shuts the sun visor close before turning back to you with a small smile.

"Good morning," he smiles, eyes curling up in humour. You grunt back in response and his smile only widens. "Come on, let's go up. Then, you can sleep in your bed.".

Suddenly, you are wide awake.

"Why are you coming up with me?" you ask, eyes narrowing in suspicion as you lean away from him and into the door, as if you are afraid he is going to do something to you. For some odd reason, though you don't know much about Juyeon, you know that he will certainly not lay a finger on you.

"Well, I thought you'd need help preparing or something. Like backstories or with cleaning, or anything else. But if you're uncomfortable with that then I won't come up and we can just discuss it here! I'd just thought you'd want to sleep for a bit before we discuss more important things, you know? So that, uh, you know what you're saying and we're on the same page and you're not too tired or anything. So, yeah. Only if you're okay with it, though. If not I'm totally fine," Juyeon stutters out in a panicked rant, totally forgetting that the two of you barely know each other. It's just that, he's felt so comfortable with you so far, like you were long friends, and he'd just assumed you'd felt the same. Like a fool.

Your lips tilt up ever so slightly with fondness, finding the way he'd panicked uncannily endearing. He's so thoughtful, you think. And he's always made you feel comfortable in your limited interactions. Your little angel on your right shoulder thinks you're too easy, thinks you're so easily won over by benevolence and pretty faces, thinks you trust too easily. And you suppose it's right. Because you don't even have to think, you don't even have to listen to the devil on your left shoulder urging you on, before you are shaking your head and saying with a small smile,

"I'm fine with you coming up.".

"Oh," Juyeon says with slight relief that's he's not made everything more awkward than it already is. "I'm sorry for not asking first.".

"It's perfectly fine," you respond with an awkward smile, looking away after making brief eye contact with Juyeon. Now that you are slightly rested, you realise that Juyeon is dressed in a casual hoodie, a coat and jeans, his hair messily strewn across his forehead. He looks handsome, much more so than last evening.

Silently, the two of you exit the car and make your way back to your house, Juyeon trailing behind you and the both of you standing at opposite ends of the elevator on the way up. Juyeon waits patiently for you to enter your passcode into your lock, hands clasped behind his back as he adverts his eyes and pretends to be interested in the view of the sky from the corridor. And then, you open the door and quietly welcome him in, the both of you ridding your feet of your shoes at the entrance before you are emerging from the entranceway and into your living room with Juyeon's tall figure lingering tentatively behind you.

"It's a little messy, but please make yourself at home," you comment as you set down your bag on a dining chair, uncomfortable with Juyeon's silence. You refuse to look at him. Up until now, you could only imagine what it would look and feel like with him in your house. But now that he is actually in your house, you don't think you'll ever be able to rid your mind of the image; his tall frame towering over the dining table and the kitchen sink, him sinking comfortably into the couch, the sight of his broad shoulders as he wanders around with curiosity, peeping into the dimly lit corridor that leads to your bedroom and the toilet.

Silence ensues and the only thing that can be heard is the soft breaths coming from between both of your lips, and the shuffling of clothes brushing against each other. Juyeon stands awkwardly in the middle of your living room and suddenly, your previously normal-sized furniture is dwarfed by his sheer height and size. Your thoughts are too loud and you desperately try to think of something to get rid of this ear-piercing silence.

"I'll give you a tour? Since you're kind of supposed to know your way around my house by now," you suggest, not bothering to look to Juyeon for confirmation before you are slowly making your way down the corridor to your bedroom, stopping at the bathroom and gesturing to the slightly ajar door.

"This is the bathroom," you say, turning around to finally look at Juyeon.

Big mistake.

He leans into you to peek into the bathroom, hand resting on the door frame as his eyes glint with curiosity. When you turn to look at him, your gaze meets his cotton-clad chest first and then his intoxicating scent hits your nose and you feel your heart slam itself into your ribcage, causing you to stumble backwards and away from his chest so that his face comes into view.

"And this is my room," you say, walking further down the corridor and to the entrance of your room with a soft clear of your throat, not allowing Juyeon to comment on your bathroom, though you think he doesn't have anything to say anyway.

Your room is quite large so you open the door and lead him all the way in. Your bed lays in the corner, next to the window and just opposite the foot of your bed is your desk, messily littered with loose pieces of paper and thick books. Some articles of clothing litter the floor and you heave a sigh of relief when you see that they are all shirts and shorts.

The first thing that Juyeon notices is that there are so many books. Bookshelves line your cream coloured walls, packed to the brim with paperbacks of every kind and genre, of every colour and thickness. The shelf next to your desk consists solely of textbooks and notebooks, which he just knows is filled with your handwriting, words and theory and equations of all sorts on every line. He notices the lack of decoration, not a single picture or plant or figurine in sight, and he wonders if you'd just recently moved into this house or if you just can't be bothered to make this flat your own when you could so easily move out. He settles on the latter and smiles unconsciously.

"It's cosy," he comments, hands finding home in his pockets again as he smiles tenderly at the back of your head. His smile widens with fondness when you yawn, knuckles trying to rub the lethargy from your eyes as your other hand covers your mouth.

"Why don't you get some rest?" he suggests, turning around to walk out of your room and back to the living room. "I'll go and do some cleaning while you wash up," he continues after a slight pause, turning around to send you a smile before he is closing the door to your bedroom gently, leaving you no room to refuse or argue with him.

When the door shuts and you hear his footsteps get further away, you are left in a silence so loud that you can hear the incessant thudding of your heart against your ribcage and the way your breaths come out heavy. Juyeon is so benevolent, it scares you. It makes you wonder if this is all an act of his because you're sure no one in this world could be quite as kind as he is; if he lures seemingly unsuspecting girls in, makes them fall in love with his irresistible charm before he eventually breaks their heart. You wonder if he is going to do that to you.

When that thought crosses your mind, you know that the exhaustion is causing you to hallucinate. So, with an annoyed huff, you gather your clothes and hop into the shower, washing all the dirt and grime from your pores, all the smell of the hospital and the irony smell of blood away from your body, replacing it with the sweet scent of your peach body wash and shampoo, allowing the warm water to soothe your tired, tense muscles.

By the time you reemerge from the steaming shower, you peek into the living to see Juyeon clearing your messy coffee table, picking up leftover trash you have yet to throw and discarding them for you into the various bins. For a second, you wonder if you should sleep in your bed for today since you have a guest. You haven't slept in your bed much, the couch is much closer to the door and the bathroom than your bed after all. But the thought dissipates easily when you remember that this is your house and you can do whatever you want, really.

So, you drag your feet the short way to the couch, your ankles feeling like they have been shackled to ten-kilogram weights. You ignore Juyeon who seems to be putting utensils and plates away into the sink as you shuffle to your couch. And upon sight, the thought of your couch's comfort drawing you in like a siren song, your body loses its will to hold itself up and you collapse onto the velvet corduroy, dragging the heavy quilt that had been hazardously draped over the back of the couch down with you. You do not bother to arrange the blanket properly as you snuggle into the throw pillows, the feeling warm and comforting.

"Finally," you mutter under your breath as you fall asleep in peace after trudging through what felt like hell itself.

-

When you wake up it is because of the incessant ringing of something. Whether it is your doorbell or your phone, you have no idea. The only thing you know is that the sound feels as if someone is drilling a million tiny holes into your skull and you want it to stop immediately.

Your eyelashes untangle reluctantly as you force your eyelids open, vision blurry as you will it to focus on the ceiling first before you attempt to look around.

When your vision finally returns, you notice two things.

The first is that your house is inexplicably and bizarrely clean. The dining table that used to be cluttered with takeout menus and unwashed dishes and utensils that now sit on the drying rack, scrubbed to an almost surgical cleanliness, clear. And for the first time in forever, the chairs are neatly tucked in and the rugs on the floor are not upturned nor folded in half, instead aligned neatly against the base of the cupboards. The sight is unnerving and you almost shoot up in surprise, until you feel a weight on your hand.

The second thing that you notice is that Juyeon is nowhere to be seen. But when you feel the weight of another hand on yours, your eyes lazily shift down to look over the edge of the couch, where Juyeon is lying down, fast asleep. Your hand is tucked neatly in his, fingers intertwined and tucked safely against his slow-rising chest, warm and rhythmic.

Juyeon rests surprisingly peacefully though he is on the floor. With his eyes closed and eyelashes casting shadows on the apples of his cheeks, his skin is uncreased, the surface smooth and soft-looking. Juyeon's eyelashes are unbelievably long and you are almost tempted to reach over and brush them with your finger. A lump in your throat forms and you feel your hand in his begin to clam up at the thought.

You've only known him four days. Your relationship is strictly business, nothing more nothing less. You have to know your boundaries.

But right now, boundaries are the least of your concerns. The thing you have to attend to first is the incessant beating of the feeble vessel within your chest. The thudding is so loud you can hear it in your eardrums like it is screaming bloody murder. You want it to stop, you want it to stop, along with the hot blush creeping up your neck, but the more you look at Juyeon's pretty eyelashes, the slope of his nose, the shape of his lips, the silkiness of his hair, the more you feel yourself unhinge a little.

Every breath he breathes out, your heart speeds up a little. And you feel yourself become entranced by his unadulterated beauty, like he is casting a spell on you while he is unconscious. And god, you know it is so fucking creepy to be staring at this stranger while he is sleeping, but you just can't seem to pull your eyes away from his face.

You have to thank the heavens that a particular knock (slam) on your door, frightens the absolute shit out of you, pulling you from your trance as you yelp and snatch your hand from Juyeon's grasp, jolting him awake as you fly backwards, back hitting the backing of the couch. Your eyes fly to the door as the distinct voice of your mother yells from the other side of the door, "Y/N! Open the damn door! I've been waiting for twenty minutes for christ's sake!"

At that, your eyes fly to the clock just above the television, and you curse when you see that it reads twenty-seven minutes past five. Beside you on the floor, Juyeon sits up in a daze, still trying to process what is happening. You ignore him and fly from the couch, flinging the blanket from your body. It lands on Juyeon as you scramble to your feet to answer the door, trying to rearrange yourself in your haste to open the door and stop your mother from ripping the door from its hinges like the psychopath she is.

You leap off the couch, not caring to see where you are stepping. And you don't even notice it until Juyeon is letting out a yelp of pain, face cringing as he brings his hand to his foot, where you had so unglamorously stomped on like a baby elephant is throwing a tantrum.

"Ow! What'd you do that for?" he huffs in his gravelly voice, still groggy from being rudely awoken by your mother and you.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" you exclaim in exasperation, pausing briefly to give him an apologetic look before you are racing to the door and flinging it open, desperately begging your mother, "Please stop fucking ringing the doorbell like a madwoman, or the neighbours will complain.".

"Well, it's not my fault you didn't answer the door or your phone for the past twenty—" she pauses to look at her watch, "—eight minutes! You didn't sleep a wink last night, did you?" your mother scolds as she lets herself into your house with bags filled with food that could definitely feed more than three people. At the sound of your mother's voice, Juyeon seems to break free from his daze, shooting up to his feet with his hands clasped together at his front, flashing her a polite, albeit tired smile as she emerges from the hallway.

His clothes are in disarray and his hair is sticking up in all places; anyone could guess that he just woke up from a nap. And your mother is anyone because upon seeing Juyeon, she dumps all her bags onto you in favour of going up to Juyeon to coo at him like he is her own child.

"Juyeon! Aw, did you just wake up? Did I wake you? If I did I'm so sorry," she coos as she squishes his cheeks between her two palms. Keep in mind this absolutely unhinged woman has only known Juyeon for a day. And it shows in the uncomfortable way Juyeon— wait.

Juyeon's smile is bright and blinding and he seems to be in his element as your mother squishes his cheeks and coos at him. He laughs in reciprocation, leaning down to give your mother a hug and a kiss on her cheek. All the while, you stare on in abject horror, the bags of food slipping from your arms due to the sheer weight of them and absolute disgust rolling off your body in waves. You turn around and plop the bags of food on the dining table to avoid their revolting affection for each other. If you didn't know any better you would think that Juyeon is her child instead of you, and her favourite at that.

"Why did you bring so much?" you ask your mother from the dining table, taking box after box of food from the bags and placing them on the table. "It's just the three of us," you mutter under your breath when your mother blatantly ignores you, continuing to talk to Juyeon.

Your mother and Juyeon only join you when you have finished unpacking the food, Juyeon walking to the dining table with a limp. Then, you remember the way you had stomped onto his foot like a titan and cringe in self-loathing.

"You okay?" you ask Juyeon when he stops beside you, hands supporting his upper body as he leans his weight on the dining chair. Your eyes dart down to his foot with a concerned frown before they look back up to his face. He gives you a bright smile and nods, whispering, "Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry.".

"It doesn't hurt?" you continue to ask, concern drawing your eyebrows together in a frown. Your hand moves to his elbow, tugging him away from the dining chair by his elbow so that you can take a look at the reddening skin on his foot. Juyeon understands your thoughts and pulls away from the chair, standing up straight and allowing you sight of his foot. He shakes his head no in response to your question as you examine it.

Your mother who was preoccupied with heating up the food and taking plates and utensils notices your interaction and feels her heart swell in her chest, proud that you've finally found someone who softens you down to warm and easy, calm and gentle, unlike your usual uncaring, violent, brutish nature; proud that someone has figured out how to love you despite your uncaring, violent, brutish nature.

Little does she know that you are paying him. Little does she know that everything happening right now, everything that had happened the night before is and was fake. Because you paid Juyeon to lie for you, to put up an act, to pretend. And after your mother leaves your home today, Juyeon will bow and the curtains will fall as spectators arise from their seats in standing ovation. The show will be over. And so will your relationship with Juyeon.

But not even you know the severity of the reason why your heart is thudding quite so thunderously in your chest. Because this may all be fake, this may all be an act but your feelings, the growing weeds in the meadow of your heart are not fake. They are more real than ever and you can feel the pesky little things curl around your heart and tickle the base of your throat. You try to swallow it down as you look at Juyeon, smile sweet and reassuring and good. But your first thought when you look at him is: shit.

[m00nchildwrites]

Threads of Eternity

pairings: female!reader (you) x Xavier

tags: romance, eventual smut, based on storyline of game but diverges, little angst and feelings, resolved feelings, fluff, hurt/comfort, injury, these two need to just kiss already, use of her/she/you depend on the pov at the time, reader/MC/you is expressed as female and during smut times will use female-at-birth anatomy terms, will have nsfw content mdni- please read with caution, my smut gets ...vivid.

Xavier x You teaser snippet

Xavier stood in the grand halls of Philos’s palace; the walls seemed to shimmer and pulse with the light of the planet’s molten core beneath. The throne room was cold despite the white marble and glistening splendor, a reflection of the man who ruled it.

"You will obey me, Xavier," his father’s voice rang out, sharp and unyielding. The king’s shadow loomed large as he stood up on the raise dias, his crown tilted forward like a predator’s teeth.

Xavier’s fists clenched. "I won’t let you do this."

"You think your love for her matters?" the king spat, his words laced with disdain. "She’s not a person; she’s the key. Her Heart is the only thing powerful enough to stabilize Philos. Without her, we all die."

"A planet that consumes to survive doesn't deserve to live," Xavier said through gritted teeth.

"Foolish boy. This is why she exists. Why the Gods graced us with such a gift. She is born to die," The king’s laugh was harsh and hollow. "You’ve let your heart blind you to duty. Guards!"

Xavier barely heard the heavy footsteps echoing behind him as he turned and fled. He sprinted down the gleaming corridors, his heart pounding as he pushed through the palace gates.

The plan he had was simple: take her far away, somewhere even his father couldn’t reach- to Uluru. But as he reached the gardens, she was waiting. Why was she there in the palace? She should be at the Academy. This was all wrong!

The air shimmered. A Wanderer had been lurking in wait in the gardens, its twisted form bending reality as its protocore ruptured. A vortex opened, pulling Xavier toward it with an irresistible force.

"Run!" he shouted to her, his voice raw with desperation as guards began to enter the gardens.

But she didn’t run. She reached out towards him, her eyes wide with fear and confusion, just as the portal swallowed him whole.

Xavier’s last sight of her was the tears glistening on her cheeks.

When the dream shifted, as dreams often did. But this, this was a nightmare, for he was too late. She lay on an altar of crystal and stone, lifeless, her heart—her Aether Core—gone.

He fell to his knees, a scream tearing from his throat, the pain of her loss cutting deeper than any blade.

-

Xavier woke with a jolt, his chest heaving, the image of her lifeless body from his nightmare seared into his mind. He struggled to get his bearings as every time he had witnessed her death, held her in his arms as she died, every time he had to tell her goodbye- or the one time when she held him in her arms as he faded to be absorbed by Philos greedy core- all of the times he lost her flicked through his mind like a horror show.

He fought with his covers, throwing them from his legs as he stumbled from his bed to his bathroom. The bright light flickering on burned his eyes as he leaned and wretched into the toilet. When at last he emptied his stomach and calmed himself from the panic that had swallowed him, he stood on shaky legs to wash his hands and face. He gargled mouthwash and spit with a wince. On his way to the kitchen for water, he snatched his phone from his bedside table.

His apartment was dark, the city’s lights casting faint patterns across the ceiling. The water was a cool relief to his acid burned throat as he chugged the contents of his glass. He rubbed his face, trying to calm the storm inside him.

What had triggered the nightmares this time? They had been having a relatively easy time of things at work. He was lucky in that he was her partner, and as such, he got to see her almost daily. He knew she was safe, asleep in her apartment below him... and yet-

Without thinking of the time, he grabbed his phone and dialed her number.

"Hello?" Her voice was groggy but warm, and it immediately steadied him.

"Hey," he said softly, gripping the device like it was a lifeline.

I hope you enjoyed this small sample of what I am working on! Let me know what you think so far! Let me know if you want to be tagged for future updates! I have never had a tag list so I will do my best!

tagged list:

@moonsavior @2kyute2poot

[juniorgman187]

Any Day Now (Reid Fic)

A/N: Plz imagine being impregnated by season 10 Spencer Reid. WHEWW CHILE

Summary: Reader’s pregnancy finally takes its toll on her, leaving both Spencer and Reader to navigate through rough waters from miles away.  Category: Fluff, Soft-soft-soft angst, One-Shot Pairing: (POV)Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Content Warning: Pregnancy Word Count: 3.2k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

At first, it was nothing I couldn’t handle.

Multiplied mood swings? Understandable, her hormones were everywhere. 

An ever-changing appetite? Great, at least now it wasn’t such a hassle for her to decide where to eat. 

A suddenly much tighter FBI vest? Well, that’s what the adjustable velcro straps were for. 

Again, nothing that I hadn’t already planned for. Even before I delved into parenting books galore, I had a pretty good general idea of what to expect. Not only because of JJ’s earlier pregnancy or Kate’s recent one, but more so because of my extensive knowledge of the human anatomy. This made riding the storm of (y/n)’s pregnancy easier ... until it didn’t. 

It was somewhere in her 35th week that things finally got the best of her. 

There was a linear increase of events that suggested things were taking a turn for the worse, so I slightly anticipated a steep decline to occur at any moment. For instance, soon after (y/n) started showing, I began to lose count of how many times I had to insert my hand between her seatbelt and her bump to create a gap just big enough so that the belt wouldn’t have such a suffocating restriction on her. Nor could I fully account for all the hours of sleep she’d lost tossing and turning, just trying to find a comfortable position where she wouldn’t be crushed by her own weight. And I certainly couldn’t remember, not even with my eidetic memory, how many times she’s almost walked out of the house completely barefoot after getting frustrated with her inability to put shoes on by herself. 

In some sad way, I knew she wished to regain some normalcy in her life. Not that she regretted motherhood, but that she wished she didn’t have to experience so many small inconveniences that summed up to something larger than the life she was helping come into fruition.

She just wanted to drink coffee again without running the risk of a miscarriage. She wanted to climb up a flight of stairs without getting winded by the first few steps. She wanted to put on a tight shirt without looking exceptionally overweight. And most of all, she just wanted to keep working.

If she had to go to hell and back to stay in the BAU while pregnant, then to hell and back she went. 

My wife, as stubborn as ever, had made me - and the entire team - promise not to baby her as soon as we revealed that we were expecting. 

“I don’t want any of that ‘but you’re pregnant’ crap, got it?” She narrowed her eyes darkly at all of us, pointing an accusatory finger. “Anything you can do, I can do pregnant.”

And from that day on, she did what she vowed to do, what I knew she could do. She still chased after unsubs, shot all the bad guys, arrested the felons, but eventually - inevitably - it wore down on her. 

The easiest effect I could identify was her drowsiness. It used to take her a while to fall asleep on the jet, and sometimes, she’d stay awake the entire flight. But after the grueling hours she’d endured during her pregnancy, we would barely board the plane before she knocked out. I think falling asleep in the seats gave her the comfort she couldn’t find lying horizontally in a bed. No one said anything, though, because she’d already made it explicitly clear that she didn’t want us to pay her any special treatment, which I understood. Nobody likes to be pitied, but after today’s incident, this went far beyond pity. 

It was just plain concern. 

“The doctor said I’ll be fine.” She grumbled, waving me away with a flick of her hand. However, seeing as she was currently lying in a hospital bed, donning a gown that only partially hid from me all the wires and pads that stuck to her body to monitor her health and relay it to the machines - she wasn’t fine. And I needed her to know that I wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was the team. (I didn’t tell her this because she would’ve quite literally took my head off, but they were all out there in the waiting room instead of working on the case). 

“Emphasis on the future tense ‘will.’ You will be fine, but right now, you’re not.” I prepared myself to deliver the news I knew she didn’t want to hear. My voice became significantly quieter, reaching such a low decibel I wasn’t sure she’d even hear it, but maybe that was by design. She didn’t want to hear it as much as I hated to say it. “Maybe you should consider going on maternity leave now.”

Immediately, my wife shook her head with the biggest pout I’d ever seen. I could see it in the way her lip quivered that she was about to cry, no doubt because of the hormones, but especially because this job was her last piece of normality. She clung to it because it was all she had left to remind herself that she was still, in some capacity, the woman she was before. 

“Spencer, please.” She begged, as if I could do anything. “I’m not ready to leave yet.” 

I pursed my lips and looked away for a second to hide my own emotions. Seeing her cry was never easy, but being the cause for it made this even harder. I felt the formation of a lump in my throat and the pricking of tears in my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I croaked. “But I can’t let you keep risking your health,” I explained, neglecting to voice the final part of that sentence. ‘Or our baby’s.’ But I didn’t say that. How could I? It would’ve only guilted her further. 

“Your blood pressure’s getting higher,” I explained, keeping my eyes steady on hers, not letting them stray to the machine that she clearly didn’t know how to read. But with one glance at the numbers, I already knew they weren’t good. I didn’t lead on just how bad they were, though. “You fainted today, and if you’d landed even a little bit differently, you would’ve ended up with a lot more than just a few scratches on your stomach.” That was the extent of my guilt-tripping. It didn’t feel right coming out of my mouth, but it was the only way I knew she would understand the severity of the situation. 

“You were already planning on going on maternity leave next week, what’s a few days earlier?” I asked, briefly referring back to her obstetrician’s recommendation of not flying after her 36th week. 

We both agreed that after week 36, she’d take her leave of absence since she couldn’t join us on the jet anyway. It was our ‘compromise.’ If she insisted on still going in the field, then she had to listen to the doctor’s orders and not fly for the last month. 

“Spencer,” She whispered again, this time with tears running down her cheeks at the bat of her eyes. With the pad of my thumb, I gently wiped them away, wishing I’d never caused them to be there in the first place. “I can’t do this anymore.” 

She never let on how difficult things had become for her. She never said it’s too much (and it must be too much some of the time). So when she finally admitted the burden her pregnancy had created, I could already sense its arrival. So without a second wasted, I pulled the guest chair right up next to her bed and sat in it while reaching for her hand. Despite the presence of the pulse oximetry on her index finger, I still took her hand between both of my own, not minding the gap that the device created. 

“You are the strongest woman I know. There aren’t many pregnant women out there who can do what you’ve done these past eight months. They wouldn’t even think of it.” We shared a brief laugh, which lightened the atmosphere enough to encourage me to continue. “You are bearing our child, (y/n). Nobody else gets to do that. Not me. Not another girl. Just you. It’s only you who can truly give for our baby right now and you’re -you’re my girl ... and right now, I need you to take care of our girl, okay?”

She nodded rapidly with still glistening eyes. For the first time, that day, she stopped thinking her job was as an agent and started knowing her job was as a mother. 

And a damn good one at that. 

_ _ _

If there was anything I’d learned over the past years, it was that I should never expect my wife to follow the rules. Today was no exception. 

She should’ve been in bed right now, taking it easy, but instead, she was standing right beside the jet, saying goodbye to each and every one of us before we boarded. 

This would be our first flight without her. 

“You take care, mama, okay?” Morgan told her, kissing her cheek before waving goodbye. 

“I’m gonna miss you so much.” Kate sighed, engulfing (y/n) in a hug that I knew couldn’t have been comfortable with each of their bumps in the way, but they relished in it anyway. If I didn’t know any better, it looked like Kate was about to cry. Maybe that’s because their dynamic was different than any other. Their simultaneous pregnancies meant that they knew one another’s struggles far better than any of us could, so granted, it would be hard for Kate and (y/n) to be away from each other. They’d been in this journey together after all, in a way I couldn’t have been.

“Oh,” JJ sighed happily, taking (y/n) in her arms and swaying gently from side to side. “You are going to be the best mother ever.” 

“Said the best mother ever.” (Y/n) remarked, laughing bittersweetly. It was something in her smile that let me know it was just for show. 

Then, in one of the rarest moments of history, Hotch hugged (y/n), earning a slightly more real smile from her.

“Get some rest. You deserve it.” He whispered. 

Not even a second after they pulled away did Rossi wait to take (y/n)’s face in his hands and plant two kisses, one on either cheek. 

“If you need anything, you call us.” He ordered, mimicking a drill sergeant.

And though, I wasn’t ready, I found myself making my way to her, getting ready for one of the hardest goodbyes. 

She wrapped her arms around my torso and let her head press against my heart. “I don’t know how I’m gonna do this without you.” 

For the first time that night, she wasn’t faking a smile or putting on a face. I knew when she was saying goodbye that she was only laughing and grinning for everyone else, but underneath it all, she was experiencing a great sadness that no one else could understand. Everyone was just as excited as we were for this baby, if for no other reason than I was finally going to have a family of my own. That I’d finally found the people who were going to be there for me forever. And maybe it was that knowledge, the knowledge of how happy this baby made others, was the reason she never let it show just how hard it was for her. Otherwise, it’d ruin the fantasy. And so she wore happiness like a mask to hide the profound pain that would’ve wounded our spirits. 

“Hey, I’m not leaving you forever,” I whispered somberly, hugging her a little tighter. “And if anything happens, I’m just a phone call away.” As much as I tried to believe my words, neither of us could find the truth in it. Even I knew I wasn’t just a phone call away. I’d be miles and miles and miles away from two of the best things that have ever happened from me. 

She inhaled sharply and pulled away from me, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the hope that I hadn’t already seen them. “I should probably let you go now.” She laughed lightly. 

Our bodies parted, but I had yet to let go of her hand. I shook it up and down gently as I told her, “I love you.”

She shook my hand back in just the same manner. “We love you, too.” 

A smile crept onto my face after the immediate realization of what she meant. 

My girls.

At last, when I walked up the steps to the jet, I finally let go of her hand at the last moment possible, and even after we released hands, our arms stayed outstretched for a passing second as the distance between them got further and further. With the warmth of her hand leaving mine vacantly cold, I watched as she replaced it on the very top of her stomach, as if to say, “We’ll be okay.” 

_ _ _

“Reid?” 

I refocused my vision to Morgan who was calling my name. From the look on his face, I realized he probably tried to get my attention multiple times before this. 

“Sorry, what did you say?” I shook my head to clear my mind, but it didn’t work. A part of me was still in another world, lingering in thought. 

My mind would never shut up about her, but it seemed like today, it was firing all these things at me at 2x speed. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact event that I felt guilty for, but really - take your pick. It could’ve been anything, it could’ve been everything. 

It could’ve been the fact that I was here and she wasn’t. It could’ve been the fact that in those last moments I saw her, I realized just how strong she was being this entire time, and how I was asking her to be even stronger, as if the weight of the world wasn’t enough. It could’ve been the realization that she was struggling this entire time, but never asked for help, thinking that she’d be a burden - the very thing she made us promise not to let her be. That is the reason after all, that she told us not to let her pregnancy be an excuse for anything. Because if she didn’t contribute anything, then she’d be holding us back - she’d be dead weight. I knew that, and yet, what did I do?

Nothing. I walked away and boarded that fucking jet like a brainless idiot.

I should’ve stayed with her. 

Morgan’s eyes turned to slits while he tossed the manila folder onto the table, seemingly setting it aside so it wouldn’t be a distraction from his question. “What’s going on, man?” 

I shrugged, pretending not to know exactly what he was talking about. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just zoned out, that’s all.” 

Clearly exasperated, he said, “Come on, man. Don’t do that. Tell me what’s wrong.” 

Whether it was defeat or a sweet surrender, I tucked my hands in my pockets and let my head hang low, eyes glued to the ground. Unexpectedly, I was sniffling and wiping my nose before I could register that tears were already coming. “I’m just worried about her.” 

It felt stupid to admit, especially considering I saw her only 8 hours, 37 minutes, and 12 seconds ago. But the absence of her and our baby was growing more and more apparent with every passing moment I spent in this office without her. Usually, she would be here to keep me company, bothering me while I located the comfort zone - not that she ever really did bother me. I quite liked her presence. 

Sometimes, when I was left alone, the room would get too quiet, and it’d just be me and my thoughts. And maybe she knew how scared of my own mind I was when it wandered, so she never let me be alone with it - never let the room get too quiet. She would talk and talk and talk, and I could never get tired of listening. Her voice was like white noise. If she was here, things would be as they always were. I would be standing at the map, and she’d no doubt be sitting in a chair, rubbing gentle circles around her protruding stomach as I felt her watching me intently. 

“Found it.” I would say, drawing a big red circle around the zone. 

To which she would say, “You’re a genius.” 

Sure, I’ve been called ‘genius’ a million times before, but it never felt the same as when she said it. 

Morgan could see the invisible pain in my chest, and he pulled me in by my shoulder to wrap his arm around me. It might not have looked like it, but it was the most reassuring hug he could’ve given me. I can’t explain it, but it felt like (y/n)’s warmth and love had possessed his body and he was radiating it now. 

“I know it’s scary, man, and honestly, we all wish we could be with her right now. But trust me when I tell you she’s not alone.” He treaded carefully with his words, and I could tell there was something he wasn’t saying but that wanted me to figure out.

I didn’t even have to verbalize my question because soon enough, when Morgan pulled back, his phone began to ring.

“It’s Garcia.” He told me, though he didn’t answer the call, which was weird enough. But then he gestured to the computer on the table, and so I half-heartedly watched as the screen changed from the blue background to a video call with Garcia. 

And who else would be sitting beside her but my wife?

“Look who I’ve got with me!” Garcia squealed, clapping her hands together excitedly.

“You’re supposed to be on bedrest.” I playfully scolded her.

“I was! I was, I promise. But after I said goodbye to you guys, I went home and got four hours of sleep, and then I went to my doctors appointment, but then when I was driving home, I thought why would I go back there when I’ve got everything I need right here?” She motioned around Garcia’s lair, even lifting up a hospital-go bag that Penelope no doubt compiled just for her. If there was anyone I trusted to take good care of her, it was Garcia. 

Like I said before, I learned to expect (y/n) not to follow the rules. So naturally, she found a way to still work even on maternity leave. 

At this point, the rest of the team neatly filed into the room, erupting in cheers of excitement at the sight of (y/n) in the bat cave. 

“Is everything okay?” JJ worriedly asked. 

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine! Baby looks good, my blood pressure’s getting better, so we’re doing okay.” She smiled proudly, and so did I. That was her first appointment on her own, and though it couldn’t have been easy, especially this late in her term, she did it anyway. Because that’s my girl.  

“When are you due, again?” Kate asked (y/n), earning an enthusiastic, “Doctor says if she’s on time, New Year’s Eve!” 

It never failed to make me smile whenever she brought up her due date. She was always excited to proclaim that our daughter might be brought into the world at the exact time we brought in the new year. 

“But if I’m early, it could be any day now.” She explained. 

Here’s where I had to cut in. “Hopefully not any day now! I don’t wanna miss it.” 

“You won’t!” She promised through a wide grin.

Something else you should know about my girl? She always keeps her promises. 

And on January 1, at exactly 12:00 - just as promised - I had the privilege of watching (y/n) deliver a healthy 6 pound and 9 ounce baby girl.

The weight of my whole world.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

Can you tell I love it when someone says “my girl”? I think that’s my favorite pet name ever. 

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[mystical-marauder]

Painting stars

Sirius enters an art shop, hoping to finally buy the supplies he'd been saving up for for months, but walking through that door brings him much more than expected

This is my first oneshot and I hope you like it and I'll post more writing like this hopefully and my writing can also be found on ao3 my username is @loveglowslikethemoon hope you enjoy :)

Today had been pretty quiet with only a couple customers and the shop was closing in 10 minutes, I was ready to go home...

Ding!

I look up from my book, ‘What kind of customer turns up this late?’ I think. I look around to the door, standing there is a tall, handsome young man, his grey eyes excitedly glancing over the shop, his black hair tied up into a bun. His fair skin is disrupted only by a small beauty mark, under his eye. The confident smile that suddenly splits his face as he turns to me, brings out two dimples that break his otherwise smooth cheeks.

"Afternoon! I'm looking for art supplies, I mean I am in an art shop" he says, chuckling. "I actually need some advice, you have a very wide selection and I'm not quite sure what to pick." he gestures vaguely at the shelves full of pencils and brushes, paint and charcoal, canvases and sketchbooks... "You see I love painting but I have no idea which brushes to use, it's embarrassing really."

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, actually it's quite common, that’s what I’m here for” I reply with a smile “So you said you paint, right? What do you need, brushes, paint, canvases…?”

“I… um… I actually need everything… You see my parents, well, they kicked me out… and I left everything there… but I've finally saved up enough money to buy new supplies so here I am” he explains chuckling nervously. I look around nervously, unsure what to answer to that but I try to remain as steady and professional as possible.

“That's… terrible, I’m so sorry.” I say, smiling nervously, trying to seem comforting.

“It’s alright, it’s a good riddance I guess.” he replies cheerily “so about those supplies, what do you recommend?”

“Follow me, I’ll show you my recommendations. You’ll have to tell me a bit more about your style of painting so I can give you my best advice.” I say, leading him over to the shelves.

I quickly give him an overview of the different supplies before giving him a more detailed review of each product and advice. We slowly go through the shop and I don’t even notice the minutes fly by. As I walk to another shelf, I catch a glimpse of the clock. I should’ve closed the shop half an hour ago but I decide to leave it. I was having fun. What was the harm of staying open a little while longer? As the minutes pass, our chatter becomes less professional and more friendly. We talked and laughed together and soon enough, we’d picked out all his new art supplies.

“Well there’s everything you need!” I say, walking back to the counter. I start counting the price while chatting to him. “That’s £81.99, the easel is on the house for being such an amiable customer. Do come back if you ever need anything else, it was a pleasure to serve you.” I smile sadly, it had been more than a pleasure and I wish we didn’t have to say goodbye now.

“Thank you” he answers, giving me another of his confident smiles “I- I was wondering if umm… this might sound a bit weird but-” his piercing grey eyes quickly shift away, his normally confident appearance fading to show a childlike nervousness. “Before I left home, well, before I was forced out, I was studying anatomy, and well… I think you'd make the perfect model… Would it be alright if I painted you? If you don't mind, of course. Please don't feel forced to accept anything, but I'd love it if you do. And we could get a chance to get to know each other a little better, maybe somewhere where you don't work.” he clears his voice, as though happy to get this over with, and shifts his grey eyes back to me, his confidence returning. A new childish smile splits his face, as though it had never left it.

My eyes widen as I register what he just asked, and I quickly look away, embarrassed. ‘Perfect?’ as the word races through my mind again and again, I feel my face heat a little. Perfect? Me? No one had ever even called me pretty, let alone perfect, but now this man, who looks like a model himself, wants me to model for him and used that word to describe me. I return the smile, although mine is more nervous than childlike. He tilts his head slightly as though reading my emotions but seconds later, he lets out a small laugh which I quickly copy, trying to diffuse the awkwardness that flourished in me throughout this interaction.

“Are you sure you want me? I mean-” I cut off as I watch him nod confidently “alright I'd love to then!” I answer him, flattered, yet I can't stop the slight shake of my hands. What if I mess up? What if he ends up hating me?

“See you then” he says happily, turning away with a wink. I watch him as he walks out, finding myself to be grinning like a child, like him. I only have one thought left, ‘I don't have to say goodbye.’ I stay standing there for a few minutes with this thought before I snap back to reality. My eyes snap to the clock.

“Fuck” I whisper as I work out the time. If my boss finds out I closed the shop two hours late, I'm done for. ‘Oh well, it was worth it’ I think ‘and anyways he might not even find out.’ I start packing my bag when I suddenly realise he didn't give me a name let alone an address, how was I ever going to find him?! My eyes trail back to the door but of course he is long gone by now… I look around, panicked, as though expecting something to magically give me his address and that's when I notice the folded piece of paper on the counter. I slowly open it, my fingers trembling at the thought that it may not be what I think. I flatten out the paper and quickly read the snippet of writing. I smile inwardly, holding the small, unfolded piece of paper, relief slowly flooding through me as I trace the sentence again and again with my eyes, struggling to believe the evening's events.

19:30 tomorrow room 29 Mirror Hotel - Sirius Black

“Sirius Black” I whisper softly, smiling. “It's nice to meet you, Sirius Black”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I try to steady my hand as doubt rises in me again, one thought racing continuously through my mind ‘What if I mess up?’ I reach out and knock on the door hesitantly. I wait for a few seconds, yet it feels like an eternity, before the door is swung open.

“Found my note I see!” he exclaims, standing in the doorway with a huge grin lighting up his face. I smile back, trying to look as confident as he did.

“Here I brought you this” I reply, showing him my bag. I take out a small black book and present it to him, “it’s my favourite book, actually I was reading it when you came into the shop, I thought that maybe...” I trail off, embarrassed. I rub the back of my neck, feeling the warmth radiating from my palm. “I just thought maybe you'd find it interesting, I've read it so many times I practically know it off my heart” I laugh quietly, quickly glancing up at him “sorry I'm rambling”

Sirius looks at me, curiosity in his eyes. A small laugh escapes his lips before he turns to me and takes the book. He flips it, seemingly interested before looking back at me and taking a step back, to free the entrance. “Well why don't you come in?” he asks, before marking a pause, “I'm sorry I don't think I caught your name.”

“I'm Remus.” I respond, looking back up at him.

“Remus, that's a nice name.” he comments, his grin never leaving his face “the book seems interesting! I'll be sure to give it a try” I listen to him talk while I walk into his room, which is surprisingly organised. There isn't much, a table with an old laptop on it, two chairs, a bed, which takes up most of the space, a set of drawers, a small window and, in the corner, the art supplies he'd bought the day before. “You can sit here” he tells me, pushing one of the chairs towards me, I take it and sit down, putting my bag down next to it, unsure what to do next, I watch him walk over to the corner and pick up his art supplies.

“What do I need to do?” I ask, my hands still trembling slightly in my lap.

“Nothing, don't worry” he replies “just sit there and relax, there's nothing to be scared of” he addresses a friendly smile at me, pulling up the other chair to face me and setting up his easel in front of it. He takes out a brush and some paint, mixing them on his palette, and starts moving his hand up and down the canvas in big yet careful gestures. As the minutes pass, I start to feel more relaxed, watching his movements getting smaller and slower. “So, tell me a bit about yourself” he says, his eyes not moving from the canvas.

“Hmm oh well my life isn't very interesting. I grew up here with my parents, they're both gone now. I work in an art shop, as you know, I really like reading and I don't know what else to tell you…” I answer, thinking that my life must be too boring for him.

“That sounds interesting to me, you must know the surroundings pretty well then! Maybe you could show me around a little, I've been here for a few months but I still manage to get lost sometimes.” he tells me, chuckling.

“I'd love to, but only if you show me how to paint” I reply, nodding happily. As the minutes turn into hours and his painting progresses, we keep talking, about everything and nothing. It felt easy to talk to him, no not easy, right. Soon enough, I knew him like he'd been my friend for years. While we talk, his eyes tend to stay on the painting but sometimes they glide over to me, snapping back to the painting seconds later. In what felt like a short period of time, yet was a few hours, the painting was finished.

“Are you ready? If I'm honest, I'm a little nervous but if it's bad, blame it on the fact I couldn't paint for the past few months.” he admitted with a nervous chuckle, grabbing the canvas and hesitantly turning it towards me.

‘wow’

That's it. That's the only thought that went through my head as my eyes met themselves on the canvas. It's so beautiful and…

“Well? What do you think?” he urges nervously. I suddenly notice his hands trembling slightly and his eyes watching me intensely. He always seems so confident, yet I can see the fear in his eyes now.

“It's so… It's stunning… I'm speechless” I reply, looking him in the eyes quickly before turning back to the painting. The painting looked so realistic, my light curly brown hair and pale green eyes standing out against my pale skin, there is only one alteration. Instead of the freckles that normally sprinkle my face, are little stars. They're beautiful, shining like the stars I can now see from the window.

“Your freckles, they're beautiful, they look like the stars in the night sky. I thought I should paint them as such… They're like little beacons of hope and friendship, when I walked into that shop, I never thought I'd make a new friend, and well, thank you for giving me hope.” Sirius looks at me, his eyes sparkling with the same hope he was talking off. As I look at him, straight into his eyes, I feel a smile reach my lips, knowing my eyes have the same sparkle in them. And as our eyes dig deeper into one another, as we share a smile of happiness of who we found, the minutes slow, as though this moment was frozen in time, which I wish could be the case. Suddenly, we both break eye contact, as though embarrassed by the connection we'd both felt in that second. We both look back up to the painting, our eyes meeting again for a second, causing my face to heat a little. I slowly lift myself out of my seat, taking a step towards the painting to get a closer view of the talent etched on the canvas in front of me.

“It's- it's really stunning” I mutter, still speechless, taking yet another step forward. As I slowly edge forward, I notice something, something that had escaped me at first glance, as it usually escapes others' attention. A thin scar, tracing along the bridge of my freckled nose. Freckles which usually hide it, making it hardly noticeable, especially at first glance. A scar that had been given to me when I was only five, by an overexcited grey dog at the park. It's claw had scratched against the skin of my nose, after it had ambushed me. It had left me with a gash, one that never properly healed and could now be observed under the shape of a scar. This scar. The one he had noticed, when no one else had.

“You got my scar” I whisper in amazement. I slowly reach out to touch it, feeling like all that matters now, is this single detail. A small detail yet seeing it there had given me hope. At the last second, I pull my arm back, like an instinct, and, remembering the paint is still wet, I drop my hand to my side.

“Of course I got it, how could I miss it?” as his voice reaches my ears, I glance to my left to find him standing next to me, admiring the same spot as I was. Him. The man who, right now, felt like a dream come true. We both turn to face one another at the same second, almost as though we're in tune with one another. I find myself getting lost in his stormy grey eyes again, knowing that he was looking straight back into my emerald green ones. For a moment, there's no movement, we both stand there in silence, our eyes sparkling at each other, knowing that this is right. A shadow suddenly masks one of his eyes and I understand that a lock of his hair escaped his small bun. I watch it sway slightly before I instinctively take a step forward, closing what little distance is left between us, and reach out. I mark a pause, waiting to see if he'll reject the movement, but nothing happens. Carefully, I grab the small lock of hair and delicately brush it behind his ear.

As I hesitantly move my hand away, Sirius lets out a low throaty laugh, and I suddenly feel compelled to do something I'd never dreamed of. Instead of pulling my hand back, I instinctively slide it down to the back of his neck, cradling it carefully in my hand, and lean forward, closing the distance between us centimetre after centimetre until we collide. It was a short kiss but our movements were coordinated perfectly.

We pull away, almost reluctantly, and I watch his face quickly turn a deep crimson, knowing mine isn’t much better. I watch his eyes, like two storms lost in the middle of all this redness.

“That was… something” my eyes move down, as I utter these two words, as though expecting them to close the distance again. Our faces were still within centimetres of one another, making me struggle not to kiss them again.

“Something utterly spectacular” Sirius laughs breathlessly, intensifying my impulse to lean in again.

The room falls silent again, as I continue to watch the slight quiver on his lips. The only disturbance in the otherwise perfect silence is the sound of light rain splashing against the window and pavement along with our shallow breathing.

For a long while, we stand there, gazing quietly into each other's eyes, not uttering a single word, yet I feel complete, everything I need is right here, in front of me. This man, who has the most luscious hair, elegance and grace radiating from his unpolished appearance, a mischievous yet friendly glint in his eye, who is staring up at me with those mercury eyes.

And in that second, I feel certain that this is where I belong. That being with Sirius is right.

[bbugyu]

for you + yoon jeonghan

everyone in his life described you as his weakness, and he couldn’t even argue.

part one | part two

wc.10234 (LMAO) | fluff, smut, humor, etl/uni!au, ~new relationship stuff~, gender neutral pronouns for reader (but they have a pussy sorry), vague softdom/brattysub dynamics (guess who’s who!), there are - count em - 4 different sex scenes, more bff!gyu, filth, language, you know the drill, reader gets a lil tender, so does han, *sniffles* they just suit each other so well, please use condoms

this is where i admit that i wrote 20k of enemies to lovers garbage all based off a single line in falling for u, where they say they meant to drink a coffee with you but they accidentally chugged it bc theyre nervous. yup! all this mess for that one line! this is incredibly self indulgent and i apologize but also i don't because i needed this

~

visual culture was your new favorite class.

while there was absolutely no trouble making time to spend with jeonghan, your previous meditation time served as an allocated two hours every week where you could just sit and mess around with the boy you had growing affections for. the two of you would chat in hushed tones as the professor lectured, jeonghan’s fingertips tracing invisible patterns on your thigh as you diligently untangled his headphone cord for him, his thumb nails having been chewed too short to do it himself. he would bring you coffee on thursdays, when it was his only class of the day but your third and last. the caffeine was a well accepted afternoon pickmeup, and he never let you go after class without taking you out for lunch somewhere, claiming to be celebrating the end of your school day. then you might as well just come over to his apartment, he’d tell you. his place was closer than yours, he’d explain, swinging your hand in his. you didn’t wanna say goodbye yet, did you? afterall, the night’s still young, he’d tease, luring you with the promise of kisses between droopy eyed smiles.

jeonghan had become the complete opposite of your initial impression. he was sweet to you, genuinely, and if you liked him any less, you would say he was obsessed. you do say that, occasionally, when you’re hanging out with your friends and he texts you some purposefully cheesy line knowing it would make you roll your eyes, forcing you to mention him to your questioning friends, but you never truly meant it. you’d be a liar if you said every eye roll wasn’t just to cover up the faint feeling of butterflies in your gut. he always knew exactly how to make you want to see him, and you never hesitated to tell him when you did.

on one such day, when you had told him that if you went home you would need him to drive you into the woods and help you dig your roommate a clandestine grave, he stopped by your friend’s apartment after a shift, waiting dutifully by the door with his shoes still on and his hands shoved into his jean pockets as you searched the kitchen counter for your keys.

“serious, mingyu, what did you do with them? i know i left them next to the toaster.”

“i used your bottle opener, but i swear i put them on the coffee table,” he said, pushing back his hair as he looked around the small living room.

jeonghan watched you and mingyu tear apart the couch, trying to ignore the roommate that was leaning against the wall, eyeing him.

“where do you live?”

jeonghan blinked and looked at him. “uh, my apartment’s a couple streets over and a few-”

“roommates?” minghao watched as the older straightened his spine involuntarily, arms folded across his chest as he appraised his friend’s new chew toy.

“yeah, three,” he responded. minghao kept eyeing him. he fidgeted under the gaze, then coughed to clear his throat. for some reason unknown to even him, he said “they’re good people,” as though he was seeking some kind of approval.

minghao nodded slowly. “they act tough but they’re not. if you break their heart, i’ll break you.”

“what?”

“y/n,” he said, causing you to perk your head up from across the room while simultaneously clarifying. he lifted his hand and jangled your keys, holding them by the novelty hulk fist bottle opener. “found ‘em.”

“jesus christ, myungho, you had them the whole time?” you exhaled sharply, shoving a couch cushion back where it was meant to be. “don’t be a prick.”

you snagged the keys from him and shoved your feet into your shoes, taking the bag that jeonghan was holding for you.

“wo ai ni.”

you batted at minghao’s arm. “yeah, whatever. love you, too. see you guys later?”

mingyu threw up a peace sign from the couch, where he had promptly laid himself out after the search for keys had ceased, and minghao smiled as he waved you off and closed the door behind you.

you asked how work was, and jeonghan sighed, describing it shortly as work, but said he was glad it was over so that he could spend some time with you.

you giggled, knocking shoulders and slyly lacing your fingers between his. “cheesy.”

he gave you your favorite sideways smile, though he didn’t know it was your favorite, and you, again, ignored the flitting in your stomach that he always seemed to cause. “so, uh… myungho…”

you exhaled. “what did he say to you?”

“nothing, really,” he said quickly, knowing you would get mad at your friend if he told you the full truth. “i was just kind of curious if you two had ever, y'know…”

you looked at jeonghan. “you’re not jealous, are you?”

he looked back. “i don’t have reason to be, do i?”

“of course not,” you said, pulling your bag up on your shoulder. “i’ve kissed hao once, on a drunk dare, and we both agreed to never try it again. he’s like a brother.”

jeonghan nodded, thinking about the protective stance the tall lean man had taken when he tried (and maybe succeeded, though jeonghan would never admit it) to intimidate him. no matter the vibe he got, he trusted you, and he understood the intent - however, you made him want to do everything in his power to keep you happy, so he didn’t think this myungho character had much to worry about.

“oh my god, hannie,” you gripped his hand tighter, your other hand clutching his elbow. “look at that dog.”

he laughed and followed your gaze across the street to the pom that was nose up, walking beside its owner. “cute.”

“isn’t it?” you sighed. “god, i want a dog. i hate living in a dorm. i hate my roommate.”

“move out, then.”

“and go where? back to my parents’ place?”

he rolled his eyes. “into the apartment you practically live at anyways.”

“dumb, dumber, and dumbest?” you scoffed. “i would kill all three of them in under a week.”

jeonghan wondered which was which, then pushed the temptation to mention his idea of you living with him out of his brain. “sounds like you’re shit outta luck.”

you sighed, craning your neck to steal a look at the dog again. “i guess you’ll just have to get a dog for me.”

he smiled back, eyes lingering on your face even after your gaze went back to the scenery. “i have a question.”

you blinked at him. “yes?”

he watched a cloud for a second. “what do you call me?”

“hannie.”

he laughed. “i mean to your friends.”

you eyed him sideways. “are you trying to trick me into calling you my boyfriend?”

he eyed you back, a smile teasing his lips. “are you admitting that you call me your boyfriend?”

“what do you call me to your friends, then?”

“y/n.”

you rolled your eyes. “you’re the most annoying person i’ve ever met.”

“woooow,” he went, sighing and pulling his hand from yours to shove it in his pocket. “here i was thinking we were in a healthy, mutually respectful relationship.”

you giggled, tugging on his arm. “oh, shut up. we are. you call me by my name, and i call you by yours. that’s as mutually respectful as we can get.”

jeonghan rolled his eyes, but allowed you to pull his hand out of his pocket and put your fingers between his again. he had never been the type to hold hands in public, but with you it felt right. “whatever. it’s only been a month. i’ll break you eventually.”

you exhaled. “if you want me to tell people you’re my boyfriend, you just have to ask.”

“why would i want that?”

you pouted. “i dunno, i thought maybe you liked me or something.”

he squeezed your hand. “don’t flatter yourself.”

you laughed, forcing a smile onto jeonghan’s face, and he didn’t stop you when you changed the subject to the fact that mingyu had informed you that a dissected sheep brain looks a little too close to ssamgyeopsal for comfort.

one day, he told you that he thought you’d be different, back before you started dating. you were gentler than he imagined, despite your continued quick wit and sharp tongue. sweeter.

“i dunno,” he said, leaning back against the couch with your head in his lap. “in my head you would just be mean all the time.”

you didn’t take it as an insult. “the version of me you created in your head is no responsibility of mine.”

jeonghan thought you were beyond incredible. while his original judgement of you being rude, pretentious, and, well, mean hadn’t necessarily been wrong, he had found you to also be incredibly caring, thoughtful, and maybe the funniest person he had ever met. you would sigh about how broke you were that week, how you were sick of eating cup noodles, but you wouldn’t hesitate to spend the last of your budget on soju and kimbap for your friends on your walk to their apartment. you always picked up on his subtle mood changes - when he would press his hands to his temples as he tried to process his literature homework, your hand would sneak onto his thigh and squeeze his knee to remind him to let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, despite your eyes never leaving your own textbook. he swore he never saw jihoon laugh as hard as he did when you and mingyu went off on one of your stupid arguments that only best friends could have, especially after you called mingyu a “grey’s anatomy-worthy harassment claim waiting to happen.”

“seriously, why am i friends with you?” mingyu grabbed his drink from your hand and glared at you when he noticed how much lighter it was (you had said you didn’t want one but definitely stole more than one sip). “can anyone else stand this bitch?”

“i like them,” jeonghan said matter of factly, his chin in his hand and elbow on the table as he stared at you fondly. 

mingyu rolled his eyes. “you don’t count, evil twin.”

jihoon had his back on the floor, hands on his face, still trying to recover from your grey’s anatomy joke, and mingyu’s twin comment only set him off again. you giggled as you watch him roll onto his side, and briefly looked around this new grouping you found yourself in, sat around the low table covered in takeout in jeonghan’s living room. “how come you call me every day, then, dr. hate-my-guts?”

“free therapy,” he said, not missing a beat as he shoved a massive spoonful of rice and meat into his mouth. jihoon coughed, and mingyu narrowly avoided laughing as he chewed.

“i don’t buy it,” jeonghan said, running a hand through his hair and leaning back on the other. he watched you steal from his plate. “i think you like y/n the same reason i do. they’re the first person that didn’t tell you what you wanted to hear just because you’re good looking.”

mingyu kept chewing as he stared at jeonghan, his almost tired gaze going to you before he spoke. “you guys are really made for each other, huh?”

you didn’t think it before, but everyone kept telling you two that, and it definitely served as a pretty good ego boost for the existing confidence in your newfound relationship. you, of course, enjoyed jeonghan’s company even more without the validating eye rolls and gagging noises from friends whenever one of you made some praising comment about the other. you thought he was funny when he was making scathing jokes at his friends’ expense, but you thought he was absolutely hilarious when he was muttering every stupid thought that popped into his head with the specific intention of making you laugh too loud as you laid with him in your bed, his hand rubbing your back, overly aware of the fact that your roommate was trying to study at their desk as you planted your hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter.

as more time passed, jeonghan found it increasingly annoying that you both shared bedrooms with other people, considering how easily you could tease him into a bothered red-eared state with just your words. times that the two of you had gotten yelled at by whoever had to witness to get a damn room, or whispers between drinks that turned into standing too closely at parties, catching each others lips teasingly. disappearing into a bedroom only to be interrupted before anything can happen by some combination of party-goers and friends that somehow always managed to ruin the mood for one or both of you in an extremely targeted way. you had managed to help each other get off, of course, and he loved the look of you sinking to your knees in a bathroom stall, gaze catching his while you unbuckled his belt, or the way you squirmed against him, stuck between a closet door and his hard place, your breath hitching as he dug his fingers deeper into you. both activities were satisfying in their own right, but it would never be enough for him.

then there was that frustrating time jihoon had walked in, catching you with your hand down jeonghan’s pants, and he would never forgive you for the way you hesitated to loosen your grip on him despite the interruption. those few seconds of sheer terror he had felt, making direct eye contact with his roommate with his dick hard and in a hand that wasn’t his, the only thing stopping you from continuing being his annoyed “can you let go, now?" 

he had decided to get back at you, and he got the opportunity a week later, when he had woken up behind you in your bed with your laptop asking if you were still watching and your roommate sleeping only a meter or so away. his lips ghosting across your neck, rousing you from your shallow sleep just to find his hand gently squeezing your hip, running over your mound until you were begging him to slip it under your pajama shorts. he had to put his free hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as you melted under his touch, your toes curling against his shins as the string in you snapped, and you punched his chest when you finally rolled over and caught your breath for getting you so needy when you weren’t alone. he just giggled and looked at you, half lidded, then kissed you like he hadn’t just been muttering voyeuristic filth in your ear.

jihoon was going home for the weekend, and the second jeonghan had found out, he told you you weren’t allowed to make any plans and swapped his saturday shift with a coworker. you had laughed in his face when he told you he intended to keep you in bed the entire weekend, but part of you had been waiting just as much as he had.

on friday night, when the two of you were sitting on the couch watching some documentary that you could barely pay attention to, seungcheol asked again if you guys wanted to go to the bar with him and soonyoung.

"cheol, i swear to god,” jeonghan said, the arm over your shoulder stiffening as he pointed at his roommate. “if you ask one more time, we’re gonna fuck in your bed, and it will be messy.”

seungcheol groaned in disgust as you laughed. “fuck you, jeonghan. i was giving them an out.”

“sorry,” you said, your head leaning back against the arm. “i’ll try to get him to wash the sheets, but no promises.”

“you guys are so fucking gross,” seungcheol said, snatching his wallet off the counter and shoving it in his pocket as soonyoung came out from the bathroom. “we’re leaving before they jump each other. do you have everything? if you forgot something, we’re not coming back,” he said, pointing. “i’m not risking it.”

soonyoung patted all his pockets, nodded, then smiled and waved at you. “see you guys! use protection!”

“don’t take the sixth shot,” you warned, smiling and waving back. soonyoung laughed as he got shoved out the door by his roommate, and when it shut behind him, you felt a chill run up your spine for no good reason.

“we should probably wait a minute,” you said, turning back to jeonghan, who was already leaning into you and letting his gaze flicker unapologetically between your eyes and lips.

“or, and this is just a suggestion, we can decide that we’ve waited long enough and that if they come back after all of that they deserve to see whatever they see,” he pitched, his fingers already brushing against your jaw.

you blinked at him from only a breath away, his honeyed eyes putting a sweet taste in your mouth. you swallowed, your stomach feeling light suddenly. “or that.”

his lips were on yours as soon as the words left them, and your hand rose to grip the front of his shirt - one of the many plain shirts that seemed to rotate around the household. you fidgeted for a second, before deciding you were impatient and pulling away from him only to swing a leg over his and straddle his lap. he grinned at you, hands landing on your thighs, lips excitedly welcoming back yours.

you really enjoyed kissing jeonghan. he always started soft, gentle, with light caresses and reassurances of how beautiful he thought you were. though you never catch him applying any, you know he has a peach flavored lip balm hiding somewhere in his daily routine, and you tasted it on him as you dove a little deeper into him, his hands squeezing at your waist as your tongue dipped past his lips. 

jeonghan also really enjoyed kissing you, which was both good and bad for him. good, of course, because you could happily trap him in liplock for hours, and he never got bored of your soft sighs and adoring touches and wanton noises. bad, though, because his enjoyment becomes incredibly obvious embarrassingly fast, and he wished he could wipe the smirk off your face as soon as you noticed, but he always found himself completely powerless against you when you decided there was something you wanted.

and so, jeonghan’s eyes flicked over your chest as you pulled off your shirt, tossing it to the side as you stood and spun around, planting your hands on his knees and spreading his thighs as you sat back directly on his already straining bulge.

“holy fuck,” he managed, fingers running over the soft fabric of your gray sweatpants before kneading at your ass. you wiggled against his grip before grinding down against him, satisfied by the reaction, loving how clearly you could feel him and the way he sucked in a breath. you made no effort to stifle the noise caused by feeling him against your already dampening core, even through far too many layers. he whipped of his shirt quickly, his hands running up your back, twisting over your waist and pulling your back against his chest. you felt his lips start at your shoulder, then a hand on your chest, then the other snaking down your stomach.

you chuckled lightly. “can’t take a lapdance?”

“from you?” his lips landed behind your ear. “absolutely not. you’ll make me cum, and i have other things i’d like to try first.”

you sighed, rolling your hips as deliberate fingers moved from your stomach to inner thigh. “ever the poet.”

he smirked against your neck. “try it again later. right now, you’re making me insane.”

“mm,” you agreed. “i’ll keep that bookmarked, then.”

“god, how are you this hot?” jeonghan almost laughed. “you’re so annoying, why are you so good at teasing me like this?”

you smirked as his hand ghosted over your core. “yoon jeonghan, you make it incredibly fun to tease you.”

“i refuse to believe that it’s my fault you’re this sexy,” he said, drinking in the way your head dropped to his shoulder and a moan fell from your lips as he ran a finger up your slit. even through fabric, he felt the arousal gathering at your core, making his cock jump against your ass. you smiled, a hand snaking against his scalp, tugging gently at the hair at the base of his skull as he bumped over your clit, his reactionary groan matching yours.

“baby,” you whispered, your breath hot against jeonghan’s lips. “please.”

he licked his lips, tongue almost brushing yours in the process, using his hand on your waist to grind himself against you. “please what, darling?”

“fingers, jeonghan,” you whimpered, arching your back against his chest slightly in hopes to get friction against him, but he stopped his grinding as you did. you huffed. “please, i need you.”

he nudged at your jaw, making you roll your head as he planted his lips on your neck. his fingers undid the drawstring of your sweats to comfortably push under the fabric, and he let out a sigh as he didn’t find another layer.

“you’re evil.”

you giggled, gasping as his fingers quickly ran through your wetness. “and it turns you on.”

you let out a prolonged moan as he pushed his middle finger into you easily, sucking the base of your neck between his teeth. you gripped him, nails surely leaving crescents against his neck as he groaned about how absurdly wet you were, and you said something about how he was in no position to tease when you could feel every time his dick throbbed against you. he asked if you were dirty enough to admit how long you hadn’t been wearing underwear, and he watched you lick your lips before you told him all day. he smirked when you brought your lips to his, moaning against him as he pushed a second finger into you.

his fingers curled deliciously against pressure points, making you gasp as you tightened around them. jeonghan watched your heavy eyelids as you tried to focus on him, he watched your chest rise and fall as it flushed. he brought his free hand up to pinch your already puckered nipple, your temple landing on his cheek in an attempt to hold yourself together.

“i can tell you’re close,” he teased, and you only whined in response, eyes squeezing shut as his palm rubbed at your clit with the gentle movement of his fingers curling in you. “are you gonna cum on my hand, darling?”

you nodded hurriedly, your fingers curling in his hair, then opened your eyes to find his. he smiled at you, which only made you feel as though your world was crumbling. your back arched against his chest again as you came, and he held you by your core as you squeezed at his fingers, lips leaving repeated kisses across your cheek and neck.

despite the orgasm, you couldn’t help but continue to grind down against jeonghan’s hand, and he indulged your neediness by pumping them into you again before slipping his fingers out of you and pushing you forwards. “wallet.”

you groaned, pushing your ass back against him, smiling at the way his hand tensed on your side. “no please?”

he stared at where you were rubbing against his length. “i’m either cumming in a condom or your ass. your choice.”

he gave you a smug look when you turned your head to giggle at him, but his face almost completely dropped when he realized you were considering it.

“okay,” you said. “condom. this time.”

jeonghan’s cock flinched against you again, to which you responded with a wiggle before pushing off him and walking to the kitchen to retrieve a foil packet from his wallet, leaving him staring after you dumbly. when you turned around to walk back towards him, he had shoved his pants over his knees, leaning back heavily as he stroked himself using the hand you had so graciously wet for him. you gulped involuntarily, suddenly aware of how much saliva was gathering around your tongue as you tore open the condom.

he watched you kneel between his knees, his hand stilling at the base of his cock as you lapped a wet line up the underside of it, tongue swirling over his head. he tasted like you, and you had to swallow again before you rolled the condom onto him. you stood, turning your back to him as you hooked your thumbs under the waistband of your sweats and leaned over slightly as you pushed the fabric over your ass. jeonghan’s hand tightened around himself involuntarily, his other going to feel you. squeeze your hip, pinch at the soft flesh. guide you down onto him as you braced yourself on his knee. you pulled at the underside of your thigh, spreading yourself wider as you sat back onto him, sighing as he stretched you out.

“fuck,” he choked out, both hands gripping at your waist to stop you from sinking more. “shit, you feel really good.”

you whined, rolling your hips back in need. “i’ll feel even better if you let me sit.”

he chuckled. “why do you think i stopped you?”

you looked over your shoulder. “two pump chump?”

jeonghan pulled you down onto him harshly, forcing a squeal out of you as you curled over yourself. it had been a long time since anything had been this deep, and you could already feel your release building with one touch of his head to your spot. “shut up.”

“shutting up,” you muttered, voice almost cracking when he held you still and rutted up into you. 

“god, i can’t believe it took us this long,” he said, steadying you with his grip so you could roll your hips on his lap. “to get me in you.”

“m-maybe if your roommate ever went to cl-lass,” you stuttered, beyond pleased that you could finally relieve this frustration as you slowly bounced on his lap. “f-fuck, you feel better than i imagined.”

you could hear the grin on his face when he spoke again, running his fingers up your side. “have i been fucking you in your dreams, baby?”

“well, you sure - mf! - haven’t been fuh-hucking me in real li-” your sentence getting cut off by a whiney moan when his hips bumped up to meet yours. “god, fuck, jeonghan!”

he pulled himself off the couch, pressing his chest against your back. he pushed up into you, almost desperately, his teeth running across your shoulder as much as his lips did. you gasped, leaning back into him, spreading your legs until your knees hooked on the outside of his, his unrelenting fingers finding your clit, just to make you beg as he pumped in and out of you.

“please what, baby?” he asked sweetly, despite the hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and the way his eyebrows knit together.

“p-please, can i cum again?”

jeonghan groaned, almost taken aback by your complete switch in attitude. while he knew you liked it when he tried to take control, he had never seen you go down without a fight. “who knew all you needed to stop being such a brat was my cock?”

“p-please, h-hannie…” you whimpered, and he could feel your walls constricting around him. “please, i wanna cum.”

desperation became obvious in his own hips, just by taking in your face. he had gone into this with every intention of milking you of everything you had, but he was man enough to admit that your begging made him too close to cumming to stop. “get my dick wet, darling.”

your mouth gaped in a silent cry as you crumpled into his chest, your legs twitching inwards as he moved his hands to your hips and continued thrusting up into you, your walls squeezing him tight until he let out a low groan, slowing his movement until he eventually stilled completely.

the two of you stayed there, a sweaty, entangled mess on the couch, both just trying to catch your breath.

“fuck,” you said finally, and jeonghan thought he couldn’t have said it better himself.

after two packets of slightly overcooked ramen, a conversation about how leaving a used condom on cheol’s bed would not be a funny prank, and a generous spray of febreze fabric refresher, jeonghan watched proudly as you walked with a slight unintentional wobble towards his bedroom, assuring you he’d be right there as he rinsed out your bowls in the sink.

when he did finally join you, you were laying on his bed with your phone to your ear, and he crawled up over you as you giggled into the phone, knees spreading to accommodate. “hannie’s. i told you, i’m staying here for the weekend.”

jeonghan could hear mingyu’s voice on the other end, saying something about how he thought it was next weekend for some reason and that getting laid would be good for you, but he just smiled as he kissed at your neck, your free arm settling around him comfortably.

“why are you calling this late?” you asked, looking over at jeonghan’s bedside to confirm the time. “are you guys going out?”

“yeah, of course. rockbox in an hour. you guys in?”

you tipped your head to the side as jeonghan continued his gentle kisses up your neck, hands running up under your shirt, making you sigh softly. “nah, we have plans. cheol and soonyoung are there, though.”

“okay, no worries,” mingyu said, then paused. jeonghan took the opportunity to bite just below your jaw, gently rolling his hips between your thighs to make you aware of what he was thinking. “are you busy right now, or can you talk?”

a pang of guilt ran through you as you held your breath, trying to not audibly react to the movement against you. you hadn’t been able to sit and chat with your best friend in way too long. “i’m, uh, a little busy? maybe we could get lunch tomorrow?”

jeonghan pulled back and glared at you, a stark reminder that he had asked you to not make plans, but you just put a finger to his pouting lips.

“as long as it’s after noon, i’m down.”

“okay,” you said, brushing your fingers across jeonghan’s cheek and pushing his hair behind an ear. “one? two? stew?”

“one’s good,” mingyu said, his voice sing songy. “okay, i’m gonna get ready. have fun! use protection.”

you rolled your eyes. “everyone keeps saying that.”

“yeah, because you guys are crazy and no one wants to risk it.”

after your byes, you hung up and looked at jeonghan, who was still staring at you with disdain. you sighed. “it’s just lunch.”

“i said no plans,” he reminded you, pouting. “now we have to go get lunch with mingyu when i could be fucking you stupid in my roommateless bedroom.”

“no we don’t,” you said, running your hands through his hair. “i have to get lunch with mingyu. you can do whatever you want.”

“oh, so i’m not even invited?” his eyebrows raised at you. “you do realize i switched a shift so i could spend all day with you, right?”

you giggled. “hannie, i would love to spend all day with you, but i haven’t sat and gotten lunch with mingyu in a month. i miss my best friend.”

he groaned, burying his face in your neck. “stop making sense, i’m trying to be mad at you.”

“you can still be mad,” you said, your fingers softly massaging against the back of his neck. “i like it when you think you’re punishing me.”

he groaned again, hating how you could so easily say the perfect thing to make him forget about anything else. “you’re evil.”

you giggled. “and it turns you on.”

he adjusted against you, trying to ignore his increasing arousal despite his original intentions. “sometimes, you seem like my own personal demon.”

“oh, fun,” you vocalised, brushing your fingers knowingly through the hair behind his ear, triggering a huff as you hit your favorite soft spot of his. “two demons trying to torture each other.”

he laughed as he raised his head, propping it up with a hand. “would you consider this torture?”

“maybe for normal people,” you said, sneaking a kiss onto his lips. “but we’re demons, remember? this is fun for us.”

his lips pouted, less to make a point and more because it was their comfortable, natural state after your lips leave. “i think i like you a lot.”

your face burned. it wasn’t the first time he had said something to that effect, but it made your chest feel funny nonetheless. “that’s reassuring.”

“i’m serious,” he said. “i really like you. and i don’t like people.”

you smiled softly. “i like you, too, yoon jeonghan.”

he adjusted his elbows on either side of you. “i want to be your boyfriend.”

you stared at him. “nah.”

“aye,” he cocked his head, making you laugh. “you said all i had to do was ask!”

“i’m kidding,” you said, putting your hands on either side of his face, pushing his cheeks in. “do you want to meet my parents, too?”

he looked at the wall behind his bed. “maybe that can wait.”

giggling, you pulled him into a kiss. “okay, boyfriend.”

the smile on his lips lingered as you kissed him, and he decided it was time to make sure everyone knew you were officially taken.

“you could have worn a scarf.”

you rolled your eyes, pulling the hood of the sweatshirt you stole from jeonghan’s in an attempt to hide the purple marks on your neck over your head. “it’s not my fault he tried to kill me,” you said, tugging on the drawstrings. “how was rockbox?”

“good,” mingyu said, leaning back. “weird. vernon ended up on stage.”

you almost choked on your water. “and i missed it?”

he laughed, then pulled out his phone to show you a video. “seungkwan made him do the features on a beyoncé song. he killed it, though.”

you watched the shaky vertical video of vernon on stage with a boy you knew but never really spoke to, watching in disbelief and laughing at mingyu’s hollering in the background. “wow. bey seungkwan and jay-v. that’s pretty legendary. i can’t believe i wasn’t there.”

mingyu laughed, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “how was your night? productive, obviously,” he said, gesturing to your neck.

“good,” you said reflexively, then exhaled as you looked at your best friend. “like, really good.”

“okay, spare the details, but like,” mingyu tipped his head and looked at you through his lashes. “good good?”

“mingyu, you know i would never say this lightly,” you put your hands on the table. “the best. seriously. man has a surprising amount of stamina for how much he naps.”

“damn,” he sighed and looked away from you. “y'know, that makes sense. i’ve always heard he was good in bed, and you two have some insane chemistry.”

you spotted the waiter coming, and before they were in earshot, you hurriedly said “plus his dick is huge.”

“oh, my god,” mingyu reeled back, then realized what you had done as the waiter put side dishes on your table. as soon as they left, he glared at you. “why are you like this.”

you grinned. “you were curious, though, right?”

he squinted at you. “doesn’t mean you should just offer up the info.”

“when’s the last time i slept with someone?” you asked. “like, really. it’s been, like, almost a year since i hooked up with rubin.”

his brows ruffled as he thought. “damn, is that true? has it really been that long?”

“let me brag,” you pleaded. “please? he’s so hot, i’m gonna lose my mind if you don’t let me talk about it.”

“i don’t know if i can be friends with you anymore.”

“dude, he spit in my mouth this morning.”

“oh-kay, so you’re buying lunch,” mingyu said, sitting up suddenly. “damn, this morning? have you guys just been going at it like rabbits?”

“i don’t wanna hear it,” you said, pointing at him. “you had to tell me about every guy you hooked up with during your 'hoe-liday’ last winter, you can listen to me talk about a guy i’ve been seeing for almost two months.”

“fair enough,” he laughed. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you like this.”

you groaned, sinking your head to the table. “it sucks.”

he stared at you. “oh my god, his dick made you fall in love.”

“shut up,” you said, lifting your head to land your chin on the table, curling a paper napkin over your spoon. you pouted as you tried to come up with an argument, but failed. “he’s sweet.”

“he’s mean,” mingyu corrected. “but he’s sweet to you.

"and dogs,” you defended. “and kids.”

“oh, so he’s husband material all of a sudden?”

you shrugged. “i’ve dated people much less likeable than yoon jeonghan.”

mingyu sighed, eating some kimchi. “that’s true. we both have.”

“yeah, so stop making fun of me, asshole,” your eyebrows creased as you leaned back and crossed your arms. “try being happy for me for a change. didn’t you want this all along? trying to get me to ask him out?”

“i am happy for you,” mingyu said, showing some genuinity as he laughed, also leaning back as your food arrived. “you just make it really hard sometimes.”

mingyu had the courtesy of dropping you off back at jeonghan’s so he didn’t have to borrow seungcheol’s car to come get you, and as he pulled up to the familiar apartment building, he gave you his usual “say hi to your boyfriend for me,” as he put it in park, quickly checking his phone.

instead of your normal “not my boyfriend,” you looked over at your best friend and bit your cheek. “sure.”

mingyu’s neck nearly snapped to look at you. “wait, what?”

you giggled. “sure, i’ll say hi for you.”

“did you-” he started, then stuttered, trying to figure out what he was asking. “are you guys, like-”

“he asked,” you said shrugging. “i said yes.”

a grin spread across his face. “really?”

“well, actually, i said no. then i said okay.”

mingyu laughed. “yeah that sounds right. wow, y/n got a boyfriend.”

you rolled your eyes, pulling the hood further over your head to hide your involuntarily hot ears as you adjusted to open the car door. “bye, goo.”

“this is my best friend,” he said loudly, making you stare at him with wide eyes as some innocent bystander walked past the car, all while you tried to pull yourself out of the door. “beautiful, right? sorry though, they’re taken, i’m dropping them off to see their brand new boyfriend.”

“you’re embarrassing,” you said, pointing an annoyed finger, grateful the person only looked back once before continuing. “go home.”

“you have done ten times worse to me,” mingyu said, grinning from ear to ear. “have fun with the pretentious asshole that can’t make an americano right, yoon jeonghan!”

that made you laugh despite yourself, and you shot him several expletives before slamming his door shut and running up the stairs.

after punching in the door code that no one had told you but you had seen enough times to know, you announced that you had returned. seeing jihoon’s chair empty on a saturday was strange, but at least seungcheol and soonyoung were up to their usual antics of playing some game extremely poorly.

you stood and watched the screen for a moment. “you know you can catch the arrows, right?”

soonyoung looked at you. “you can catch the arrows?”

seungcheol groaned. “why would you tell him that? i’m actually winning for once!”

you giggled. “if you dodge when the arrows are coming, you catch them.”

“you can dodge?”

from the other room, you heard a muted “hurry up,” and you saluted to the boys as they argued, following your cue to exit the situation.

jeonghan was on his bed when you shut the door behind you. “what are they yelling about?”

you sighed as you walked over to him. “apparently soonyoung didn’t know you could dodge in towerfall.”

he watched you pull off the sweatshirt - the same one he had worn on your first kinda date - to admire the marks he had left on you, then blinked when he realized what you had said. “we play that game all the time, how did he not know?”

you shrugged, then crawled into his waiting arms. “he’s not very observant.”

you sighed as you settled against jeonghan, and he kissed the top of your head. “how was lunch?”

“good,” you said, smiling. “gyu is good. it was nice to catch up.”

jeonghan clicked his tongue. “you guys talk every day.”

“okay, yeah, but,” you adjusted to look at him. “talking on the phone and hanging out with other people is different. we can’t talk about the same stuff.”

“well, what’d you talk about?”

you smiled. “wouldn’t you like to know?”

he squinted at you. “aren’t we supposed to be a team now? no secrets?”

“okay,” you said, fixing his bangs. “what were you and seungcheol talking about in his room yesterday before i got here?”

jeonghan couldn’t help the tiny smile that worked its way into his face. “did soonyoung tell you?”

“i would never reveal my source,” you said triumphantly, knowing it couldn’t have been anyone else, considering jihoon had already left. “also, he was pissed that you kicked him out while he was still sleeping.”

“if i could have just dragged cheol into my room, i would have,” he sighed. “trust me. i can pull soonyoung out of bed, but seungcheol is dense.”

you inspected his lips a moment. “were you talking about me?”

“uh,” jeonghan adjusted under you, putting a hand behind his head. “no, not really. soonyoung got a job, and me and cheol are both working more now. i wanted to talk about getting a bigger place, since our lease ends in the summer.”

you vocalised excitedly. “does this mean you’d get your own room?”

“that’s the idea, yeah,” he said, grinning. “you could stay over more.” and while he hadn’t lied - they had discussed larger apartment options, and decided to start looking by the end of the month - he failed to mention that the main purpose of him isolating seungcheol was to confirm he was crazy for wanting you to join them if they did move.

“i mean,” cheol had said, barely propping himself up in bed. “it might be a bit too early to tell, but you guys seem like the real deal.”

jeonghan spun in soonyoung’s desk chair, arms crossed. “but i’m insane, right? like, we haven’t even slept together.”

“they’re coming over for the weekend, yeah?”

“yeah.”

“so let’s talk about it again on monday?”

jeonghan kneaded at his jaw, exhaling. “yeah, okay.”

now, you had slept together. not only that, but you slept together, all night, in the same bed, and jeonghan woke up with jumbled poetry in his head when he found you curled up by his side. despite living in this apartment for nearly a year, it felt most like home with you in it. 

and he had told seungcheol, when he got home from dropping you off for lunch, that he was pretty damn sure he wanted to wake up like that every morning.

he wondered how you would react, if you would want to take the leap and move in with him. part of him felt as though he was taking advantage of your situation for his own selfish want to have you around all the time - you would do literally anything to avoid being in a dorm next year, but your housing budget wouldn’t accommodate for anything more than a goshiwon. while that wasn’t the worst option, you always talked about how much you missed living in a normal space, with a stove. a full sized fridge. a real bathroom, instead of a cramped wetroom. if he were to ask you to live with him, you would likely say yes, but would that put too much strain on your relationship too early? or would you think he was moving too fast and say no? his mind whirred silently as you buried your face in his neck.

“what’s on your mind?”

jeonghan blinked. “nothing.”

“liar.”

he sighed. “you.”

you lifted your head. “am i what’s making your heart beat so fast?”

he hadn’t even realized his pulse had quickened. he swallowed, briefly wondering if he would ever be able to truly hide anything from you. “maybe. what did you and mingyu talk about?”

you laughed. “i was hoping you would forget.”

“i never forget.”

“we talked about a lot,” you said, fiddling with the collar of jeonghan’s tee. “classes, summer plans, boys…”

he raised his brow at the last subject. “boys, huh?”

you smirked at him playfully. “yeah, our waiter was cute.”

he scoffed in your face and you giggled, then flattened his shirt against his chest.

“we talked about you. i told him we were official.”

“how’d that go?”

“he made fun of me, but it’s fine because i told him you have a big dick.”

jeonghan’s hand went from behind his head to cover his eyes, letting out a half-groan and half-“really?”, but the smile on his lips told you he wasn’t mad. “why? why would you tell him that?”

“he’s my best friend!” you laughed.

“okay, why did you tell me that?”

“i’d thought you’d like to know,” you said, pouting slightly. “he might respect you now.”

he uncovered his face just so you could see him rolling his eyes before he tried to sit up. “okay, no more cuddling.”

you whined, trying to keep him in place, but failing. “but i just got here!”

“maybe you shouldn’t have left in the first place,” he teased, getting out of bed to turn off the air purifier he usually only ran at night, but had been too preoccupied to turn off that morning. “i told you i intended to keep you in bed all weekend, but you didn’t care.”

“i’m here now,” you pouted. “in your bed.”

“take a nap, then,” jeonghan said. “i’m gonna eat.”

you groaned. “you didn’t eat while i was gone?”

“too busy pouting in bed. your turn.”

you floundered and whined childishly for a moment as he laughed at you, leaving the room without another word. sometimes you hated how similar you two were, but only because it made you completely aware of just how annoying you were.

when jeonghan returned, you had completely passed out, holding his pillow under your head as you laid on your stomach. he smirked in the direction of the sleeping body and fiddled with a few things - closing the closet door, throwing a rogue shirt into his hamper, etc. - before making his way to the bed to join you.

his touch was gentle. enough to rouse but not frighten. you squirmed slightly, recognizing the way his hand dipped into even the most subtle curves of your body as you laid out comfortably. you gave a noise of approval when it ran over your ass, squeezing slightly. jeonghan smirked again, and you turned under his arm to face him, a soft smile on your lips.

“g'morning.”

“it’s four in the afternoon,” he corrected.

you sighed. “and it’s a good morning.”

“sure is, babe,” he drawled, smiling as you planted a smooch. his hand ran unhurriedly up your back, under your shirt.

you hummed. “are you really horny again?”

“listen,” he mumbled, almost laughing. “i just want to get of much of you as i can, while i can.”

you supposed that was as good a reason as any as you kissed him again, only for him to pull away and straddle the backs of your thighs. he pushed the balls of his palms into your lower back on either side of your spine, and you let out a low moan. jeonghan did this on occasion, treat you to a back rub. he claimed it was because you had the worst posture he had ever seen, but you knew it was an excuse to get his hands all over you, and you couldn’t hide how much you enjoyed it. you adjusted to lay straighter, burying your face in the pillow when he hit a particularly evil knot and had to dig it out with a thumb. you groaned as his hands travelled up your back, sliding the shirt up as he massaged into your shoulders. you sighed as you got up on your elbows and ripped off the shirt, tossing it somewhere on the floor, exposing your full back to him, your shoulders and neck littered in his marks. he admired them, even planted small kisses atop a few, then worked his way down your back, curving his hands over your ass.

you muttered a quiet thank you, and he smiled, giving you a succinct “of course” in response. he moved down to your legs, thumbs sneaking in your inner thighs and subtly spreading you out despite your pants. you hummed, pushing your hips to meet his touch, encouraging him to knead at your cheeks.

“have i ever told you you have a great ass?”

you giggled. “it’s average at best.”

“uh, no,” he said, voice pitched upwards in a teasing manner. “i think i’m a really great judge in asses and yours is fantastic.”

“yeah?” you peeked over your shoulder. “what’s so fantastic about it?”

jeonghan’s fingers dug into it, eyes shooting up to meet yours. “well, for starters, it’s connected to you.”

he ran a thumb over your crease, making you let out a small noise in response, and you buried your face in the pillow again. “shut up.”

he smirked against your shoulder, hands running up your back again and one landing on the mattress beside you as he pushed his hips against your ass. “yes, boss.”

you sighed, arching your back to get as much friction as you could while he ground his hard member against you. he sucked at your neck, and your hands dug helplessly into his hair as you whined.

“are we teenagers?” you asked, huffing. “do we have to dry hump or can we fuck like adults?”

jeonghan laughed as he lifted his mouth to ghost over yours. “impatient. if you were better, you would have asked for my cock nicely.”

“better,” you repeated, hating the way a hard wave of arousal washed over you, suddenly wakening your senses like it was from the pacific. “for you?”

the tip of his tongue barely swiped at your lips, your jaw twitching slightly in reaction. “you gonna be good?”

you tried to focus on him, your blown out eyes flickering hopelessly to his lips. “i-i can try.”

and with that, jeonghan yanked your pants over your hips and down your thighs, scooting them down as you hiked your ass up slightly, hoping to tempt him as efficiently as possible. his hands found your ass again, spreading you out as you groaned. “look at you, soaking.”

you bit your lip, making a pathetic noise into the pillow to avoid talking back. “please, jeonghan.”

two fingers ran over you, and you tried to muffle your moan as best you could as your hips moved involuntarily, pushing into his fingers. he smirked down at you, wondering how far he could take you as he messily spread your arousal. “bet you could take two right now.”

“yes,” you said, gasping slightly. “please, hannie, please, i can take it.”

he pushed two fingers into you, barely even scissoring them before pushing in a third, making you bury your face in his pillow as you groaned. “i’ve been fucking you good, huh?”

you nodded frantically, pushing against his hand as steadily as you could. he noted your neediness, and indulged you by thrusting his fingers into you until you were whining rhythmically to his pace. he pulled a finger out, then another, and you instinctively threw a hand back to catch him before he pulled away completely. he laughed lightly, his hand easily overpowering yours and pressing a kiss against your shoulder blade.

“sorry, were you close?”

you exhaled sharply. “that was so mean.”

“i’ll make it up to you,” he said, pulling your hips further off the bed and pushing you further apart. he licked a wide stripe up your core, and you moaned deeply into the pillow, gripping it with all your power as his tongue expertly ran over your clit. “you taste incredible.”

you panted as you turned your head. “i thought you just ate.”

“i have a separate dessert stomach.”

your thighs buzzed and gut fluttered, and you wondered how he always managed to make you weak in the knees, even when his tongue was buried in you. it wasn’t long before you were gripping at his wrist, knuckles white, quaking as his lips guided you through your orgasm, and he lapped at your release, licking wet stripes up your inner thighs as well.

when he backed away, you exhaled again. “jeonghan-”

“what?” he asked, pushing his own pants down his thighs. he stood to drop them to the floor before straddling you again, pulling your hips back against him. “is this what you want?”

your hand found his thigh, urging him towards you. he rubbed the head of his cock, already shiny and scarlet, against your core, and you practically begged on the spot. suddenly, he pushed you into the mattress, pushing his hips against yours but fucking into your thighs. you whimpered, his cock rubbing against you absolutely deliciously, but not at all what you were expecting. he groaned into your neck, snaking a hand up under you.

“god, you’re so wet, i almost don’t even need to fuck your pussy.”

you yelped when his fingers found a nipple and pinched. “h-hannie, please-”

“please, what?”

you squirmed. “please fuck me.”

he looked at you. “you get one more try.”

for a moment, you looked back at him and your mind went blank. “please, hannie, i need your cock.”

he smiled. “was that so hard?” his tone and kisses were sweet, but completely mismatched the frustration bubbling in you as he pulled back, making you moan again as the head bumped over your clit. “do you trust me?”

“yes, baby, please just fuck me before i scream.”

with one hand on his cock, he guided himself into you, a moan tumbling from his lips as he felt you completely unsheathed for the first time. you gripped the pillow in a tighter fist as he filled you out, and it took all your concentration to not squeal in a way that absolutely would have been heard by the entire apartment. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you back onto him as he fucked into you. as you adjusted to him, you began to curse the fact that this was only temporary - you would have to go back to unreliably private quickies in a few short days - and you suddenly got the urge to really savor the way jeonghan’s cock felt in you.

he leaned over you, changing the angle ever so slightly and just enough to make you cry out, and he put a palm at the base of your neck, wrapping his fingers around it slightly as he pushed you into his pillow. “i could fuck you raw forever.”

you tried to catch your breath to respond. “i would let you.”

you internally celebrated the low groan that escaped him, and the way his hips pushed impossibly further into you. externally, you rewarded the movement with a matching moan, though you slapped a hand over your mouth when you heard the game pause in the other room.

“don’t want them to hear you, baby?”

you whimpered into your hand as jeonghan kissed a line up the side of your neck, steadily rolling into you.

“can’t even talk?”

you shakily pulled your hand away from your mouth, trying to stifle your noises with just your will. “cheol already hates me.”

“he doesn’t hate you,” he said, his voice getting slightly more labored as he continued his pace. “i bet he’d love to hear your pretty moans.”

you clamped your hand over your mouth again, resisting jeonghan’s luring the best you could. he smiled against the hollow of your ear, nipping at it slightly.

“i know you want to, baby. just let it out.”

as he spoke, he shifted his hips, making you let out a high toned moan that was barely muted by your palm, and you buried your face in the pillow to avoid jeonghan’s shiteating grin.

“i love the way you sound when i’m fucking you,” he said, his voice never raising above his lowest register. his ability to keep his cool as you were utterly falling apart was perhaps simultaneously the most aggravating and sexiest part of the whole affair. “and you always back up against me like a bitch in heat.”

you reached back for a hand, but he swiftly grabbed your wrist to push it against your lower back. your chest heaved, and you hurriedly added your other wrist to his grip. with one hand restricting your arms and the other pulling your hip back against his, he licked his lips at the sight.

“i’m going to wreck you,” he panted. “i’m going to make you forget anyone you ever fucked before me.”

you let out harsh breaths as your chest pushed into the mattress. “already have,” you managed, peeking best you could over yout shoulder to the glorious view behind you. you enjoyed the way his tongue shot out between his lips, the way he watched his cock fill you tightly. you even liked the way his hair flopped over his eyes, even if you thought he was in need of a haircut. but you especially liked that he looked like he got lost in you. like he would never want anything but you.

you came fast and hard, squeezing him temptingly as you whined into the pillow. with that, he pulled out and rolled you over, fingers hooking at your pants to pull them off completely. you bicycle kicked to help him, then practically pulled him into you as his lips crashed into yours, hands pulling you as close as he could while you both repositioned your bodies. your hand went down to position him at your entrance again, and you gasped into his mouth when he slid into you again. his teeth tugged at your bottom lip, one hand gently massaging the back of your neck as you whimpered against him.

“you’re being so good for me,” he muttered, purposefully brushing his lips against yours with every syllable. “have i finally tamed you?”

your legs wrapped around his waist. “no chance in hell.”

he grinned, letting you pull him into more sloppy kisses as he steadily pulled another orgasm from you, and you couldn’t help but want him to cum with you. his eyebrows knit as your hands dug into the hair at the base of his head, eyes barely focusing on your lips as you begged for him to cum in you.

“you’re evil.”

you could barely smile. “and you love it.”

you choked slightly, body edging into overstimulation as you came again, and jeonghan pushed up off of you to better chase his own high. he pumped into you, hard and rough, for a few more seconds before you felt suddenly empty and he was shooting hot ribbons of cum up stomach and chest.

you bit back a moan, arching your back slightly as he stared down at your chest, leaning down to lick his cum off your nipple. you gripped his hair again, squirming as he sucked lightly, lapping more cum towards the peak. you tugged at his roots slightly, pulling him up to kiss you before he got you hot and bothered again when you weren’t sure you could handle more. 

“i can’t believe you pulled out.”

jeonghan laughed in your face. “i asked if you trusted me.”

you pouted. “i thought that meant you were going to choke me out.”

he kissed you again after a short chuckle, then sat up to grab tissues. “maybe next time.”

he didn’t say it like it was a promise, but he kept it like it was one.

and when your weekend of nonstop bedroom antics was over, you admittedly had fulfilled yourselves enough that the following privacy draught was almost bearable. sure, jeonghan asked you a couple times to come sit on his lap while he worked on lab reflections, and yes, it was much less innocent than one would think, but the two of you managed to keep unfortunate walkins to a minimum, which was only made possible by finally getting it out of your system.

also because you decided your thursday 7:30 was barely worth it most weeks, and jeonghan was always happy to run over to your dorm to fool around for a few hours while your roommate was in class.

[82mkl]

a week at the cafe (na jaemin)

a week at the café (na jaemin)

pairing: na jaemin x reader

word count: 2.1k words.

content: fluff

notes: lowercase intended.

day one.

“good afternoon! what’s your order?” “one large americano and a watermelon shake please” you say. “can you add a cheesecake too?” mark adds. “i’ll pay for it this time y/n, but you have to help me pass college.” you chuckle at his words, “sure markie.” you sat down at an empty table waiting to be called. “can you believe we have one week left of summer and then we are officially college students,” mark groans. “i can’t wait to study medicine!” you say sarcastically. “i should have chosen music too,” you frown. he flicks your forehead, “you’re crazy! you’ll be one of the best doctor, i’m sure of it.” before you could reply, mark’s phone rings. “it’s my girlfriend.” you smile at him and say, “tell sab i miss her and i can’t wait to study anatomy with her.” you both laugh and he goes out of the café to answer the call.

seconds later, the barista calls out mark’s name. you look up to the barista and see his gorgeous smile. oh god. “one large americano and watermelon shake for mark?” he asks, smiling at you. you look at his eyes and is easily captivated by the way it sparkles. he lets out a chuckle which makes you go back to your senses. “uh yeah mark, here’s the receipt” you stutter as you show him the receipt. he stamps it and you immediately bring the drinks and go outside to find mark. as he ends the call, you start telling him about your encounter with the cute barista. “oh god, i didn’t even check his pin for his name,” you tell him. “y/n, you can just go back and ask you know?” he tells you. “yeah, but i’m shy.”

day two.

“so, who’s this cute barista you’re crushing on?” jennie asks. “the guy with the most beautiful smile behind the counter.” you tell her as you look at him. “drinks for y/n!” he calls out, and you suddenly panic. “oh god, jennie what do i do?” “get our drinks,” she says obviously. “make sure to ask for his name,” she winks at you. you playfully smack her arm and walk towards the counter. “y/n?” there he goes with his killer smile again. you smile at him and gave him the receipt. “weren’t you mark yesterday?” he asks, and you look at him confusingly. he lets out a chuckle and you suddenly remember that it was mark’s name being called yesterday. “ah, it’s y/n. i’m y/n.” you laugh, and he asks, “so is mark your boyf-“ before he could finish what he was saying, he was called by the manager. “oh sorry, i have to go. see you again tomorrow y/n.” he says and gives you the most beautiful smile you have ever seen.

day three.

“mark, can we wait for jennie before we enter the café?” you ask him. “y/n, i am starving, can we just go?” “no because he thinks you’re my boyfriend. you can’t ruin this chance i have.” “i have a girlfriend!” he laughs at you. “but he doesn’t know that markie!” you whine again. where even is jennie? you thought to yourself. “you look so funny when you crush on someone,” he says as he pats your head, and it just so happens the cute barista suddenly shows up outside the café. what is he even doing outside the café? you both look at each other and he gives you a small wave, and you give him a smile. “hey!” jennie suddenly appears. “you’re late,” you tell her. you look back to where the barista was standing to see him nowhere to be found this time. “can we eat now? y/n didn’t want to enter because the barista thinks we are together,” they both laugh, and you roll your eyes at them. “you know if you just ask his name, he might give you his number too.” jennie tells you. “you are quite obvious with this little crush going on.” mark adds. “we aren’t eating here, let’s go somewhere else,” you tell them as jennie laughs and mark whines.

day four.

you were planning to do advance readings for your class, so you decide to go to the café alone. there are three things you love about that café; the food, the ambience and the cute barista. you order the usual and find a table that is secluded. after a few minutes, you see a shadow going near you and it towers over your book. you look up at the person and saw the cute barista with your order. “i saw you studying so i decided to just give your order, i hope that’s fine with you.” he says as he places your drink and cake on the table. “thank you! that’s so kind of you,” you smile at him. “is that anatomy you’re studying?” he asks, and you give him a nod. “college starts next week and i want to come to class prepared, you know?” you chuckle. “i have anatomy notes, i can share them with you.” “i would love that.” “i’ll bring them tomorrow if you plan on dropping by that is,” he says with a hopeful glint in his eyes. “sure! i plan on studying here for the rest of the days anyway” “okay, see you tomorrow y/n” he says as he leaves. you forgot to ask for his name once again.

day five.

as soon as you enter the café, you see the cute barista standing behind the counter. he gives you a smile and you smile back. you do your usual café routine, and just like yesterday, he gives your order personally. “here are the notes as promised,” he hands out notebooks to you. “thank you! are you perhaps going to take med too?” you ask, and he flashes you with a smile again. his smile is so contagious, you catch yourself smiling whenever he does. “yup! my college starts next week as well.” “oh, won’t you need your notes?” “i’ll just get it back when you’re done using it, no worries,” he tells you. “thank you so much uh- what’s-“ before you could even ask for his name, a girl suddenly pats his shoulder. “reina!!” he says as he hugs her. “you’re finally back!” he tells her, and you could feel your heart dropping. “y/n, i have to go. see you tomorrow?” he asks, and you just give him a smile.

day six.

you enter the café again, alone. you look at the counter, but don’t see the beautiful barista. before you order from the counter, you go to your usual table first to place your things. as you go near, you see the cute barista sitting on your table with your usual drink. “hi, good afternoon!” you greet him. “hey! you finally came, i was waiting for you,” he smiles at you. you felt your cheeks going red, but you remind yourself that he might have a girlfriend already– reina might be his girlfriend. “what are you doing here?” you ask him, and he frowns. “oh, don’t take that in a wrong way, i would love to hang out with you, but don’t you have a shift or something?” you add. he laughs at your flustered self. “i was working here just to cover for my cousin, but she’s back, so i’m free i guess.” cousin? could it be- “see, that’s my cousin over there,” he points to the girl at the counter just like he could read your mind. “oh, reina is your cousin.” you said with a hint of relief. he raises one of his eyebrows, and asks, “did you think we were-“ before he could even continue, you start getting flustered again and he laughs. “you’re cute, you know.” he pats your head, but immediately stops when your phone rings. you look at your phone and saw mark’s name appear. “one sec,” you tell him. you stood up to go outside the house, but before you could even start walking, mark’s girlfriend talks, “hey y/n! i’m sorry i accidentally pressed your name, i was supposed to call mark’s mom. sorry for bothering you!” “ah, it’s fine sab. goodbye!” you say. you come back to your seat and look at the cute boy sitting in front of you. “so, you and mark?” he asks. “we aren’t together. oh god no, never. he has a girlfriend.” you say, all flustered. “you’re cute, have I mentioned that?” you did, you mentally answer. “i was just teasing. i saw mark with his girlfriend come by here during my shifts.” you let out a sigh of relief, but as you check the time, you remember that you have plans with jennie in 5 minutes. “i am so sorry but i have to go!” you tell him as you hurriedly pick up your things. “no worries, goodbye y/n! stay safe!”

day seven.

it’s the last day of summer, so you go back to the café to give the beautiful barista his notes back. it has been seven days, yet you still don’t know his name. you promised yourself that you will ask him this time but to your dismay, he was nowhere to be found in the café. you went up to reina and ask her, “hey! i was wondering if you know where your cousin is?” “he has plans with his family today! come back tomorrow, i’m sure he will drop by,” she tells you and you give her a thank you and left. does the world really hate you? doesn’t it want you to have a love life? is this their way on telling you to just give it up and start anew during college?

first day of college.

“first day of college!” jennie screams. “i’m so nervous and excited!” sab says. “can you believe we are now starting our journey to being doctors,” you tell them. “this feels surreal.” sab says. “what are your first classes?” “i have anatomy, and it starts in 30 minutes. i think i should go find the room. see you at lunch?” you tell them and they nod. you walk to your class and surprisingly you found it almost immediately. you sat at the chair at the middle of the room, and start opening your notes. as you were fixing your things, someone calls your name. “y/n! is that you?” it was the cute barista boy. “oh my god! we go to the same college and we have the same class?” you both laugh. “oh, here are your notebooks! i dropped by the café yesterday, but you weren’t there.” “ah, i’m sorry about that,” he says and you give him a smile. “oh, it’s no problem,” you tell him. you both stare at each other, and you find yourself getting lost in his eyes again until he starts to frown. “y/n, honestly, i am quite disappointed in you,” he tells you and you look at him confusingl. what is he talking about? “i put a note with my number on this notebook i gave you,” he pulls out the sticky note on his notebook, and showed it to you. you were shocked because you did not even notice the sticky note when you went through the notebooks. “i didn-“ he cut you off, “i figured you weren’t interested in me when you didn’t call for days,” he frowns. “i’m sorry, oh god, i didn’t see it.” you stutter. he pouts at you, and you panic. “i think you should make it up to me by going on a date with me,” he says, now giving you a smile. “what?” you say. “i mean, what? did I hear you correctly?” he nods and you can feel your cheeks blushing. is this really happening? you look at his eyes again and smile, “it’s a date then.” before he could reply, the professor arrives. “good morning everyone!” the professor greets, and the class greets back in unison. the boy beside you suddenly gives you a sticky note, you look at him then the sticky note. same café after our class today? you look back at him and nod. he gives you the most beautiful smile again, better than his past smiles if that was even possible. “my name is jaemin by the way.” he whispers, and you freeze. “you’re cute, you know?” he adds as he pats your head and lets out a chuckle before he focuses on the professor again with a smile on his face as you look all flustered.