#the fact that he gives this genuine thought

[norafaye]

max verstappen x fem!reader

⟢ summary. max wasn’t doing a very good job at being an attentive boyfriend, always busy and not paying you any mind, so when you voice your dismay he gives you exactly what you want.

⟢ contains. slight angst, nsfw, smut : unprotected séx, côckwarming ♡, softdom!max, crybaby!reader, he’s stubborn and mean asf (madmax hehe), you ride him in his gaming chair, dirty talk, creampie, begging, mention of alcohol consumption, usage of petnames (e.g. baby, sweetheart, love), wc : 6.4k

nora's ☆ note. peek-a-boo! srry for being gone, this has been in my drafts since jan LMAO. it’s my first time writing something angsty, hopefully it’s up to par w the rest of my writing (o´罒`o) anyway love u all, i’m going through all my work that’s been collecting dust <3

Your feet padded down the endless hallways of the penthouse you currently resided in, searching for Max with a glass of gin in hand. One of his favorites.

The boisterous district of Fontvieille Monaco has gone long quiet as the evening begins to fade in. It was the most treasured part of your day—when the sunset casts over the ocean and how the crowds of people start to diminish slowly one by one. Loud voices and laughter simmering down, back into their homes or into fancy restaurants and bars to enjoy the rest of their night.

Each roll of the blue waves along with the golden disk already beginning to touch the surface ocean water is a view you could never get sick of. The sun slips quickly behind the line of the horizon as it spreads its last rays—stunning hues of oranges and yellows seeping through the windows of your living room, allowing to emit a shadow of your figure on the floor and walls with each step you take as you continue your hunt for your boyfriend.

It is where you feel the utmost of tranquility—the calmness of this environment is a way for you to wind down without having to care for anything else outside of the place you call home, to help wash away any troublesome thoughts. Usually these hours are spent with you and Max watching a movie or making a home cooked meal together. Usually your limbs would be tangled with one another in sacred and intimate ways.

Though this time around, your surroundings don't put you at ease, it doesn’t shake away your worries. In fact, it’s worse than usual.

This current lifestyle by all means, was everything you could ever dream of. You were incredibly lucky to be the partner of someone like Max. The Dutchman who is portrayed and misunderstood as a villain half of the time is actually a gentleman.

Your lover was so genuine and kind, as sweet as the gleam of sun that is currently kissing your skin—the warmth filling your whole body, bringing an overwhelming sense of comfort. It’s the sole reason why you fell in love with him, and you fell hard.

His own love for you is like a garden—blossoming into heavenly flowers within his fast beating heart.

He dotes on you, cares for you when you need it most, like tending to a single daisy amongst a field of grass. Nurturing and watering it with the most fondness, just like he does when kissing you, and god his kisses are to die for. His lips soft against yours like a warm embrace, so tender and delicate, melting into each other's souls. It always felt as if it were the last, as if the world was crumbling beneath the bottom of your feet. Nothing around you mattered, just the two of you in that space sealing in the gap.

He’s a race car driver for crying out loud—bound to be blunt and direct. But the persona he shows to the crowds of people and millions behind a tv screen is only half of who he truly is. Sure he can have a nasty temper at times during the highlights of his career but those were all under heavy stressful circumstances. In no way shape or form has his impatience and anger on track reach you from behind closed doors…until recently.

That familiarity of admiration for you has suddenly turned into rushed and quick pecks on the lips, hugs lasting only a fracture of a second. There wasn’t any long lasting gentleness to those intimate actions anymore, no adoration laced behind them.

This switch in attitude has you dwelling on it in an unhealthy way. Concerns filling your brain as he hardly devoted any time to you recently. Perpetually blowing you off with an “I’m busy.” and other broken promises to make it up to you whenever you’d suggest going out together for the day.

You genuinely didn't mind it at first, you out of everyone understood how important his career was to him. But, he’s constantly conducting business calls, in emergency meetings, or practicing on the race simulator. You were aching for him, in more ways than one.

It’s lonely enough with him having to travel all around the world 12 times a year with an extra addition of other flights for further business matters. And, with your own work you aren’t usually there to accompany him more than you’d wish. So with the rare occasions of him actually having a break with you at home and to have him not pay any attention to you was, without any exaggeration…starting to annoy you.

In contrast to the beautifully painted sky outside your windows showcasing its eternal beauty of lovely colors, your mood was somber and gloomy. Almost like the soon to be night sky beneath a cascade of iridescent stars on the sandy shores of Monaco—the air thick with a cold breeze and scent of salt, the feeling melancholic.

With an intake of a breath through your nose, the tracks of your light footsteps halt when you finally reach the blackwood door that leads into his office you were positive he was in. You make sure to knock three times—an order you mustn't forget, not wanting to walk in on him potentially streaming a game or being in a meeting with his camera on.

Upon hearing a faint, “Come in.” from the other side of the door, you enter the office with caution. Staring into the dreary space, anyone would be aware of how grim it was; pens and papers scattered across his work desk messily, the trophies resting on the display shelf held a sheer layer of dust, and the cold temperature didn't make it any better. The atmosphere alone coerced goosebumps to emerge onto your skin.

Max himself looked disarrayed, sat in the race simulator on the other side of the room. You walk over to stand beside the makeshift car seat to get a better look at him. All the noticeable tell-tale signs didn't go unnoticed by you, he was pushing himself too much. It was really displeasing to see him not taking care of himself. His light brown hair framed his forehead with eye bags digging into his skin, and there was a prominent little line in between his eyebrows—indicating that he’s been focusing for too long.

“Hey, everything okay?” Setting down the cup of gin on the wooden desk concernedly, you pull off his headset and brush your hand through his locks—pushing them back into place. Max doesn’t tear his eyes off the screens of his multiple monitors, barely sparing you a glance or reacting to the contact of your touch like he normally would.

“Hi baby, yeah…yeah ‘m alright,” he mumbles slowly, almost as if he didn’t register what you said.

“I got you a drink.” A frown makes way onto your features when he doesn’t say anything after that, not even acknowledging the alcohol in front of him. With a tilt of your head you wait expectedly, continuing to burn holes on the side of his face—like you were trying to read into his thoughts. “You coming to bed soon? You should get some rest.”

“Mhm…in a bit.”

You didn’t know why you thought the outcome would be anything different. The monotone lack of response from him had you sneering as a combination of anguish and irritation consumed your body. He’s still looking at the screens, an intense focus in his irises—a need to complete the race laps of the simulator even with his headphones off.

You knew then that he’s not honest with his intentions, being dismissive as usual and leading you to the feeling of neglect yet again. Though this time you’ve reached your limit, patience running thin.

Whilst huffing out an annoyed breath you toss the headset into his lap without a care, “Liar.”

That was a terrible mistake.

His reaction was just about immediate, bewildered at your sudden outburst. “What was that?” Max finally turns his head, eyes narrowing to look at you as you saunter off to the door. You intended to just retire into your shared bedroom alone, tears already pooling at your lash line from all the pent-up frustration with your back facing him.

“If you knew what was good for you, you wouldn’t dare to walk out that door.”

Halting your footsteps, a shiver bolted up your spine, the previous anger briskly replaced with unease. You’d like to think it was from the cool air that was blowing from the vents instead of his bleak words.

“Get back over here,” he spoke assertively, voice low and ominous—like he was disappointed in your unexpected change of mood, making your skin crawl with uncertainty.

It was a dangerous gamble between wanting to defy him or to finally have all of his attention after two weeks. But you knew better than to test his warnings and tolerance especially after hearing that irked tone. Blinking away the unshed tears, you steel yourself to shift your body and face him again.

“Now. Sweetheart, don't make me repeat myself.”

Your breath hitches, this was probably the first time in days where he’s held eye contact intently with you for longer than twenty seconds and it just about has you stumbling over your feet. The icy glare spoke for itself, already irritated with the way you lashed out at him, which is rare coming from you. He’s got a pounding headache and the last thing he wants to deal with is your little attitude.

His mean demeanor nearly made your eyes water again by the time you returned to his side, following his order. Within a split second, Max chucks the headphones to the ground bitterly. The loud clank! it makes when it hits the wooden floor has you jolting out of your skin, his annoyance radiating off of the small scowl on his face and actions.

In swift movements he pulls you down to straddle his lap without a word, a squeak of surprise leaves your lips since you didn’t have time to process what was happening.

The proximity has your heart skipping a beat, a rush of heat spreading throughout your entire body with nervousness. It was slightly cramped in the space between him and the pc steering wheel—leaving you little to no room to breathe, chest brushing against his to not have your back pressed into the metal material.

You felt that familiar ache in your stomach building up from how close he was and how he was holding your waist to keep you steady. It really didn’t take much for you especially since you’ve missed his warmth—his big veiny hands on your body. Your mind begins to whirl already, making you desperate for more right away, it was easy to tell from your quickened breath.

He observes your small frame all but quivering atop of him, dressed solely in one of his t-shirts that was evidently larger on you and a pair of panties peeking from underneath.

“What’s gotten into you huh?” His eyes lingered a while longer on your bare thighs that were scantily covered. He strokes it with his hands lightly, the contact igniting a trail of fire in its wake on your supple skin before his sharp gaze snapped to return to your face, “always interrupting me.”

You can practically hear the erratic rhythm of your heart beating in your ears because of his fierce scrutinizing eyes, and it doesn't benefit you in the slightest when the expensive cologne he knows drives you crazy wafts into your nostrils—making it even harder to concentrate. The air gets thicker by the second around your heated bodies.

“What’s gotten into me?“ You’re muttering under your breath, looking everywhere but his burning stare to try and rein yourself, “Max you…you hardly have time for me anymore.”

He’s a busy man, engrossed and occupied in his job. You get it, you truly do, you understand the fear he must bear of not wanting to be last. Carrying that title of being number one is both a blessing and a curse. It doesn't help that he's his own worst critic, correcting what he thinks he could do better by practicing on the simulator as much as he possibly can—it’s the only thing that occupies his mind.

The amount of pressure he must feel has to be overbearing—all the more for a non-stressful winter break, he’s been losing too much sleep and he couldn’t even bother to mind your concerns. All you wanted was to take care of him in different ways, you’ve tried for days but those days turned into two weeks and you’ve had enough.

One of his hands smooths over your back, humming gruffly while the other jerks your chin to force you to look at him with a firm grip so you don't pull away, “Y’know I have to be on top of my work right?”

“Yes! Of course I do but—“

“I’m doing this for us.” He then takes both of his palms, dragging them down your sides tantalizingly to grasp your hips. Max kneads the flesh briefly before guiding you with a secure hold to have your clothed heat rub at his crotch that's already flinching, growing hard underneath you. He does so almost mockingly, knowing just what you want and eliciting a shocked choked gasp from you, “working so I could get you the things you want.”

Your small hands went to hold onto his broad shoulders at the unexpected friction, it was getting tougher to keep yourself grounded—body trembling with the effort to stay in check, to stop yourself from grinding down on him greedily like you so desperately wanted.

“Max,” your face is sullen as you speak just above a whisper, he was mere inches away, so close you can almost taste him. You could just…lean forward a bit, claim his lips and have him again, “I don’t care about that, I just want to spend—“

“Time with me.” He interrupts again, stealing the rest of the sentence out of your mouth like he’s heard it a hundred times before and you can't seem to get snarky with him at the moment because of the way he was gradually rolling your groin against his. A rush of butterflies stirs in your tummy from the staggering sensation.

Max reaches under the hem of his baggy shirt that's draped over you with an exasperated exhale, his touch ticklish as his fingers dance along the soft skin near the band of your underwear. You can start to feel your body seeking more of his attention, so close to being obtainable you can taste it on the tip of your tongue.

“Is that it? Fine. If that’s the case, then you’re going to sit still.”

His words pique your interest at once that you seem to ignore his condescending behavior—content with just getting to be in his presence again.

He takes notice of your tongue peeking out to wet your lips in expectancy, earning a flicker of amusement on his features before quickly masking it back with a stoic expression. You can feel him trail lower and lower until the tips of his fingers reach your sensitive bud to circle it delicately over your panties, almost feather-light to tease you. The response from your body was instant, mewling and arching your back. Your clothed breasts were now flush against his chest, allowing more warmth to exchange between the two of you.

“All you wanted was to get your little pussy wet huh?” He lets out a scoffing chuckle, making a wave of humiliation wash over you from the way he puts it. You shake your head in denial, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that you are in fact sexually frustrated.

“N-Ngh! No!” But he can see right through your miserable bluff, especially with your heavy puffs of breath and stammering.

You were utterly touch-starved that your underwear was already dampening under his touch with your growing arousal. All from just sitting on his lap and light traces of contact.

“No? Then why are you soaking my fingers right now?” A sense of pride always filled his body knowing the affect he had on you, to have you heat up and slip into that sweet headspace with just a few ministrations. “Aww my sweet baby, you just needed a bit of my attention? Is that it?”

Max continues to work you up with a lazy smirk on his lips, watching you closely for each little face twisting reaction, “answer me sweetheart.” He lightly taps at your clit, another chuckle almost slipping from his throat when you sit up straighter because of it.

“Yes Max, I…want you.” Your voice comes out a bit whiny than you intended but you don’t seem to care because of the way your brain is clouding, craving more without question.

“There’s my good girl.”

With your lower lip sucked between your teeth you brace yourself for more, blood pumping with excitement. He was finally going to fuck you like you’ve been wanting for days, right?

Wrong.

What you didn’t expect was to be fully naked, straddling his cock whilst he ignored you.

Dumbfounded was an understatement.

As you watch the clock on the other side of the office—perched on top of the door behind him, your sanity quickly dissolves with each passing tick. It took you about ten minutes to realize the vast amount of self-control he held. So while you were sitting on his lap, firm length sheathed deeply inside you—Max simply returned to the simulator, superbly content with this proposal. You on the other hand, couldn’t stop the tremor of your thighs.

Breaking the tense silence with an unsatisfied grumble, you wrap your arms around his neck in hopes to get more direct contact of his skin on yours. Your frame was taut and rigid above him, trying your damn hardest to not make any sudden movements like he ordered.

Being able to finally feel him again like this but not allowed to do anything about it has you on edge, you eagerly wanted—no needed some sort of relief. So with much contemplation your movements get bolder with a grind of your hips, though it only makes him give you a stern look in exchange, enough for you to force into a stop at once.

He clicks his tongue in disapproval, giving a light smack on your plush ass as a warning. “Stop fuckin’ moving,” he hisses through gritted teeth, still annoyed with you and it had your heart aching uncomfortably.

You should be the one that was upset but you felt so vulnerable and deprived, especially with him still being fully clothed, his shorts and briefs pushed down just enough to free his cock making you feel all the more exposed and in the mercy of his hands. You so miserably needed more of him, all of him.

“Max please,” you can’t help but beg now, knowing that it’ll usually weaken his resolve with that angelic voice of yours, “I can’t.”

It doesn't seem to deter him though. A sense of disappointment engulfs you, he was so hellbent on teaching you a lesson that you know you don't even deserve.

“You can and you will. What happened to being my good girl?” His hands never leave the steering wheel behind you and his voice, not even in the slightest—doesn’t waver whenever he speaks, practically like he was unaffected with your warm wet cunt wrapped around him, “besides, isn’t this what you wanted? Don’t make me punish you.”

He’s mocking you. You can almost see his lips quirking up into a smile as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck with no retaliation afterward, so eager to please him.

The only thing you can possibly do was snuggle closer for the little bit of warmth his clothed body can radiate in the cold office and listen to the loud roar of V6 engines coming from the game. With tightly shut eyes, you try to think of something to distract you but nothing works as your mind parades itself from the feeling of his fat tip kissing your cervix, stuffed full.

This was already punishing enough, none of this was painful oh no—it was the complete opposite. But, the pleasure rising up and not having your desires fulfilled was tearing you apart. It was borderline torture.

The stretch makes slick from your pussy drool on his girth, a mess pooling straight down his balls and whenever he would move his feet on the pedals of the simulator—his thigh jumps, making you shift on his lap and bounce ever so slightly on his shaft. It has you whining against his ear like a bitch in heat.

Max’s eyes burn into the screen of his pc after perceiving the sound of your soft whimper and whines against his ear, breath tickling his skin and making it prick up. He always loved any noises that he could pull from you, his possessiveness and ego feeds off it. He's transfixed—entranced by how sweet it sounds. He can’t lie, he did miss you. Missed having you close like this, desperate and easily acquiescent for him, your soft voice all breathless and needy.

Just the feeling and connection of you.

He clenched his jaw when your velvet walls fluttered around him, his own self-control was close to snapping. But being an asshole just to spite you seemed more pleasing, he purposely moved his legs more forcefully on the pedals to elicit more of those pretty little cries of pleasure.

Though he completely freezes up the moment he hears you sniffling against his neck, hot tears hitting his shirt seconds after.

Max knows he's been a shit boyfriend but he's too prideful to admit it, so frustrated and harsh while his sole center of attention was on how to be better, better, better with his work that he seemed to forget your own needs. He’s conflicted at the moment as he thinks about it, infuriated at himself for taking it out on you.

You were trying so hard for him, to be his good girl that you always were despite your own discontentment and bitterness to his treatment towards you. You didn’t want to upset him any further even if this was his own doing, it made both his heart stammer and his cock twitch from how kind you are to him. He didn't deserve you.

When you feel that certain jerk inside of you, your one track mind really couldn't stop your lips from speaking once more through your small sniffles. “P-Please Max,” you attempt again with hesitation, lip bitten raw from your constant chewing, “I can’t take this much longer.”

His self-restraint finally snaps.

Your ears perk and pick up the sound of him sipping, completely downing the glass of alcohol that was disregarded earlier in one go. He hisses harshly after the burn cascades down his throat with each gulp and then leans forward, muscles flexing slightly as he places the now empty cup on the desk with a soft clunk before turning off the gaming system.

The unexpected silence causes your stomach to twist in a knot, no longer capable of hearing the thunderous engines of formula one cars—just his ragged breathing and ticking of the clock.

Anticipation nags in the back of your mind, a hundred things running all at once while you sit there pliantly and unmoving, silent tears cascading down your face.

You can't help but think that you’ve surely done it this time, you’ve pissed him off now haven’t you?

“So ungrateful for all the things I give you, hm?” He eventually speaks amidst the strained quietness. The words he utters out didn’t hold any actual malice, voice softer now. His anger giving away to more vulnerability as his hands went to pry your face away from his neck, holding it in his palms gently.

It ached to see you hurt, the pain in your features mirrored in his own heart. His hands trembled subtly while he cradled your soft cheeks, thumbs brushing away the salty tears that fell—trying to comfort and soothe you, “always complaining.”

You lean further back slightly to get a better view of his features, seeing a mixture of emotions swirling in his irises.

Pity. Sadness. Longing.

You could feel it with the way he held you with care, you could feel it in the air—through his soft breath against your skin. Your own heart tugs a bit when you realize that he was feeling guilty. Guilty for doing this to you, for mistreating you.

“I miss you.” You hiccup whilst his thumbs continue their calming motions on the apple of your cheeks.

He focuses on your pretty face stained with wet tears before brushing some loose strands of hair framing your face, tucking it behind your ear and he couldn’t help but marvel at how cute you looked. You were nuzzled into his hands like a kicked little puppy—doe glassy eyes staring into his own.

Max lets out a shaky breath out his nose when a pout adorns your pretty pink lips, he wants to kiss it away, hear those moans you’d make against him. But first, he really needs to apologize for his negligence.

He coos at your broken voice, torn between his self pity and yearning for your presence even if he didn't deserve the slightest bit of your leniency, “‘m right here baby.” His chest continues to sting as your tears increase, the weight of his words hitting you harder than he expected.

He knows that his reassurance has touched a nerve, that you've been longing to hear those words for days. That he was never really gone, he still cared for you the same, just too stubborn about his own emotions. While keeping his tender hold on your face, his gaze never leaves your watery eyes. He wants you to feel his unwavering love, a necessity to put your mind at ease, “let me kiss you, can I?”

A soft hum coming from your throat and a small nod is enough confirmation for him to pull you into a fulfilling gentle kiss, one that you were familiar with, the kind that you yearned for so severely. The adoration was felt again as he put much effort and devotion behind it. It felt so good being cherished like this again.

With a pleased sigh passing through you, Max tilts his head—removing one of his hands from your face to hold your nape, intending to deepen the kiss even further. He takes the opportunity to push his tongue past your lips when you part your mouth.

The taste buds on your own wet muscle begin to flood with the flavor of bitter alcohol as it dances and tangles along with his. It was all so, so intoxicating. And he revels at how your lips always manage to be plump and soft, as tasty as he remembered. He mutters against them gently yet firm as he speaks, trying to convey his conflicted feelings, “so sorry my love, ‘m so sorry.”

He places a few chaste kisses on you before pulling away slightly so he can stare up at you for a moment, his pupils tracing every inch of your naked body. He can't get over how beautiful you look with desire and need whirling in your eyes. His heart stutters again with so much regret when you sniffle and hug his shoulders, pressing closer like you were trying to meld into one.

A small glimmer of light breaks through the storm of emotions when the sound of a sheepish giggle comes from your mouth. The lighthearted noise that he’s grown to love over the years of knowing you filling the tense air. Your saccharine voice overflows his ears with words of forgiveness, too compassionate for your own good. He muses at the fact that even through the stressful and pressuring times—the neglect, you were always there to welcome him with open arms.

Max rids the confines of fabric still clinging to his body with a sense of urgency, like a man on a mission to make it up to you. He tosses them to join the pile of your clothes forgotten somewhere on the floor before returning his mouth on you, this time on the column of your neck, peppering it. Starved and parched for you, just as much as you were for him.

His kisses are hot and wet, tongue lapping at your skin while his hands wander over your chest. He can feel you responding to his touches once more, pulse quickening just beneath his fingertips, your breathing coming out in faint gasps.

Small “I love you’s.” tumble from him like a mantra without stopping his focus on your skin. The once pained expression on your face now changed into an alluring one within ticks—cheeks flushed, eyes blown wide, and mouth slightly parted from all the attention.

It only fueled his hunger even more, growing impossibly harder inside of your pussy. “So fuckin’ pretty, I could stare at you like this forever.” His lips work their way up to your ear, licking the shell of it provokingly, the action has the hair on your arms standing stiffly. Max’s voice was direct and rough as he whispers, “fuck yourself onto me, go on baby you can move for me now.”

It's like a fire switch has gone off in your brain. At last, you lift yourself up until his flushed pink tip peeks out to the point of almost slipping out and slowly sink back down. Both of your mouths fall open to let out a low satisfied moan in unison. Your eyelids flutter, half-lidded now, barely being kept open with furrowed brows as you gape back at him.

“Haah!—“ your breath gets caught in your throat as he braces his feet on the floor and plunges his hips up to meet yours when you lift yourself again, stuffing his fat cock into your soaking heat in one instantaneous push. Your small hands claw on his shoulders in surprise, leaving red scratch marks on his pale skin.

“Breathe for me baby…yeahhhhh just like that. I can see you dripping for me, my needy girl look at you—so fuckin’ wet,” he bites his lip to stifle the guttural moan that threatened to slip at the sight before his eyes, “Missed you so much too—shit.”

He continues to run his filthy mouth with a vein protruding his neck and stills his hips so you can set your own pace, your walls shuddering around him in response to his all of his words. Whilst you repeat the same action again and again, you’re already not able to formulate a single thought from the mind numbing sensations. Just mentally saturated at being filled to the hilt over and over and over.

“F-fuuuuuck, so good Max—feels so good!”

“That’s it, just focus on feeling good, ‘m here s’okay. You have me now.” He devours your mouth once more, this time with great fervor—his tongue exploring every inch of the wet cavern more hastily, tasting every bit of what you can give.

He swallows each and every little sound coming from you, every whimper and whine because of each drag of his length, feeling it reverberating through his mouth down to his chest—now full of warmth and contentment.

Max’s hands on your breasts continue to squeeze, fondling your mounds until his calloused fingers pinches and rolls your nipples between them to pebble up in the cool air, adding a jolt of pleasure in the mix. The feeling of you taking him inside, the sounds of your sweet gasps—it drives him insane. He groans deeply, breaking the kiss to have his head fall back against the chair.

You’re fucking him so good all of his tension and worries are melting away from each roll of your hips. Maybe a little too good that he’s biting the insides of his cheeks to stop himself from ramming into you like a madman.

"Keep using me however you want sweetheart, don’t stop ‘till you're satisfied,” he mutters, ragged and hoarse.

You can hardly focus, it was too much for you to endure. All you can make out is how good he feels, how his mushroom head hits that spongy spot with the way you’re taking him in so deep at this angle. This is everything you've ached for, so it’s no surprise how easily you’re falling apart so early on along with him. So overly sensitive and responsive to each stroke of his stiff cock, being able to feel every ridge and vein.

The observation of him splitting you open was incredibly arousing to gawk at. Strings of slick connects where the two of you continuously meet, hot and sticky with a translucent white painting the base of his length as you continue to cream around him.

He swears he feels like he’s floating, going absolutely delirious, and it’s obvious with the way he wouldn’t shut his mouth. Max always gets this way from the taste and feel of you, it’s like his mind couldn't fathom anything else around him.

“You're so good baby, so good for me," he praised, palms going to grip at your hips tightly. He’s clutching you so securely as if he can't bear to let go, leaving crescent shaped indents on your hips from his blunt nails. "You love this, you love being filled up by me, don't you?"

“Y-Yes, Max," you moan out needily, your own fingers digging into his shoulders, "I love it so much. Mnnh—so big.”

His grip on your hips tightens as he tries to hold back, to prolong the need to just pound into you, his breath coming in ragged, shallow pants. The sound of wet plaps! from skin slapping against each other fills the office walls when you move a little faster—air thickening around you further with the smell of sex. His brain clouds, losing himself in the pleasure you bring upon him. He can feel his willpower slowly giving way to his desire and need for you, but he wants you to have this.

The view of you riding him and your sweet whimpers was making it harder for him to control himself. He shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw to focus on not coming so quickly, “You're so tight, so perfect. Can’t even fuckin’—hah! Can hardly think straight.”

He makes it a point to hold out for you, so you can come at the same time just how he always likes. But you whine and suddenly stop, legs starting to strain. The vulgarity of his words, the sensations, it was all getting too overwhelming.

Max groans at the loss of pleasure, reopening his eyes to look at your flushed disheartened face, “What's wrong baby?”

“Need you,“ you whine frustratedly and press your forehead against his, swapping breaths as you both pant, “I can’t…”

"Need my help?" He grabs your hands to place it behind you so you can grasp at the steering wheel, this allows you more leverage and support to slam down onto him, “Lean back and hold onto this sweetheart, hold on tightly.”

For extra measure he snakes a strong arm around your back, holding your waist sturdily as he helps guide you to fucking him more harshly now.

“Oh f-fuck! You’re s-so deep!” You tip your head back, bearing your hickey covered neck to him. He almost came from the sight alone, a low groan bullying it’s way out of his mouth.

“Yeah? That’s better isn’t it baby?” He asks softly but there’s a clear hint of teasing, a playful mocking in his tone. Though his voice is finally starting to waver, all of it sends him into overdrive as he draws close to bursting at the seams. His fingers from his free hand tease the skin of your inner thigh, making your hips stutter slightly. “Oooh, s-shit just felt you squeeze around me, you like that?”

“No teasing Max,” you whine and cinch your brows together, looking back at him with a small scowl but it looks more of a pout in his eyes, “touch me please.”

“Demanding now are we?” Deciding to not be mean anymore than he already has been tonight because of how precious you looked—he licks the calloused pad of his thumb and presses it harshly against your clit, neglected and swollen. He circles it, spreading his spit and your wetness slowly. You shriek at the added stimulation and grip the steering wheel so hard your knuckles turn white.

“My good girl, my everything, all I ever need.” He’s babbling again when your pussy clamps down on him at the praise. Both of your brains seemingly go fuzzy yet in tune with one another, only thinking of one thing and it’s that sweet release.

With each moan from you, a sharp groan and grunt comes from him. His own hips begin to move with you again, no longer capable of keeping still, his thrusts matching each lift of your body. The pleasure builds and builds, becoming almost unbearable.

“So. Fucking. Good.” He punctuated his words with each buck, becoming more sloppy as time goes on—hanging so dangerously close to the edge. And he knew that you were almost there too, he could feel it in the way you were moving against him desperately, clenching and shaking around him. "You're close, aren't you, baby?"

Incoherent babbles of yes's and pleas were all you can respond with. Each drive of his hips were now constricted because of how hard you squeezed around him, your walls pulsing like a vice as your body goes taut.

He didn't stop, couldn't stop, he needed you too badly, needed to feel you as you fell apart for him, all because of him. His thumb rubs more vigorously against your bundle of nerves to heighten the pressure in your core, ready to burst at any given moment.

“Y-Yeah I know I'm right there with you, come on baby,” he urges and leans forward, licking and speaking against your ear, knowing that it’ll drive you even closer to your peak, “I want you to come for me–come with me.��

Your vision begins to blur, nerves on fire as you can only focus on the blissful pleasure. The moans coming out of you now louder and more high-pitched as you chase for your orgasm. He angles his hips and snaps up into you harder, now hitting your sweet spot more incessantly. You suddenly go quiet, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you come around him in a silent scream.

“Holy shit, gooooood fucking girl,” his concentration switches to pure ecstasy when he watches you shake atop of him, he can feel everything—every muscle and contraction around him, it was enough for the heat burning in his abdomen to explode along with you. The base of his cock throbs as spurts of cum shoots inside of you while a guttural moan rumbles deep within his throat.

His thrusts begin faltering as he tries to coax the most of your orgasm out of you, pushing his cum further into you as much as he can until the fat head of his tip burns in overstimulation.

You collapse onto his chest blissed out and limp when you finally come down from your high. Completely fulfilled again as he hugs you to his sticky body, not caring to pull out, keeping you plugged full of his cum. His chest heaves against your head, rising and falling almost like a soothing lullaby, sitting there and just listening to each others heavy breathing.

“I’m sorry again my love,” he speaks after a while of calming quiteness.

“Shhh don’t talk about it anymore,” you chide playfully, resting your chin on his chest to stare up at him, “just don’t ignore me like that again.”

“Oh I don’t plan on it.”

The familiarity of your bond re-emerges. The tension and hurt from earlier is entirely gone, replaced by a sense of comfort and ease with you lax in his arms. His eyes drinks in the sight of you with a content smile plastered on his face. He’ll have to book a getaway for the rest of his winter break and take you over and over to make up for lost time.

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost.

[mrsshabana]

𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐫. 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡 :･ﾟ✧

꒦꒷‧₊ Content Mr. Crawling x gender!neutral!reader, MDNI, nudity, fluff, suggestive but no smut ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.5k words. Mr. Crawling is so cute, I just had to write a fic where we take care of him. He deserves it (╥ ‸ ╥)

He followed you like a lost puppy.

The entity that clung to you like his life depended on it, refusing to return to the world in which he came from. His intentions aren't clear, but he isn't causing any harm so you had no issue with him sticking around.

Mr. Crawling was what you called him. He spoke a strange language you couldn't understand at first, but after spending so much time with him you picked it up after a while.

When you get home from work he's always so excited to see you, chirping excitedly and grinning widely at the sight of his favorite human.

As soon as you arrive he sticks to you like glue, watching you as you do mundane tasks or relax around the house.

Tonight you were making spaghetti, and Mr. Crawling seemed extra intrigued by you cooking the dish.

He peers up at the stovetop, watching as you heat up the tomato sauce. His curiosity gets the best of him as he tries to get a better view, he bumps into you. Causing the red sauce to topple over and spill all over him.

"Mr.Crawling!" you shout, "I'm so sorry!"

He just smiles and licks the sauce off of his face. Seemingly not affected by the hot temperature or the fact that it has splattered all over his clothes.

"You ok?" you ask in his language.

"Me surprise! Saturate clothes, hair, body!" he says between giggles.

You're glad he finds it funny and he's not upset. You don't know what you'd do if you ever saw Mr. Crawling cry.

But he's right, he's completely covered in sauce and his clothes will need to be washed right away.

You kneel down to his level and wipe away the excess sauce with a paper towel, "Me take care of you."

"Me grateful," he smiles wide, leaning into your touch as you clean him off.

You know this won't be enough though, he needs a bath. But you feel slightly awkward giving him one. Not that you mind caring for him, but as far as you know there isn't a word for bath or clean in his language so you don't know how to ask him if he's okay with it. And the thought of seeing Mr. Crawling naked... well you've never really considered it before. But thinking about it makes your cheeks redden and your body heat up.

First things first, after cleaning the chunks of tomato you take his hand and lead him into the bathroom before you try explaining to him.

"Um... Mr. Crawling," you mumble, "Me change you clothes. Water container. You give clothes?" You try to explain it to the best of your ability as you hold out your hand.

"Saturate clothes, water correct! Me give," he nods and takes off his clothes.

There's no embarrassment or shyness evident as he removes his clothes. Mr. Crawling is either just too innocent, or he's just so comfortable around you that he knows he has nothing to be shy or embarrassed about.

You try not to look at his body as you take his clothes. Hurried walking to the laundry room and shoving them into the machine at a rushed pace.

You know he's waiting patiently for you to return and give him his bath but you have to try to calm down first! Your creepy cute ghostly roommate is naked in your bathroom right now and you're freaking out!

Mr. Crawling may act like a pet, but this isn't like giving your dog a bath or something! Maybe it feels so strange because your relationship with Mr. Crawling isn't well-defined.

He's obviously obsessed with you and adores you in every way, but is it romantic? You aren't sure...

However, you do feel confident that Mr. Crawling wouldn't say no to being in a romantic relationship with you if you asked. Judging by how he constantly craves your affection, touch, and attention - he'd probably love it.

And you'd be lying to yourself if you ignored the feelings you had for him. Sure he's not human, but he's so sweet and genuinely cares about you.

Before you met him sometimes you felt like if you disappeared no one would care. You felt insignificant in the grand scheme of things. On lonely nights you'd question why you're even here at all. Is there even a point?

But Mr. Crawling changed all of that.

When you leave, you know Mr. Crawling is always waiting in front of the door for you to return. No matter how long it took, even if it was 100 years, he would still wait for you.

He makes you feel important for the first time in your life. Like if something happened to you he wouldn't rest until he was able to have you again - even if he spent eternity searching for you. He wouldn't stop looking for his favorite human. That's how much you mean to him.

And if that's not the definition of love then you don't know what is. Because it's obvious that Mr. Crawling loves you, and honestly you love him too.

"Mr. Crawling..." you whisper as you walk into the bathroom again.

He turns and makes that high-pitched sound he makes when he's happy.

"Water container, correct," you say, patting his head as you start the faucet.

"Me go into?" he tilts his head to the side, not sure what to do. The gesture is cute and makes you smile.

You nod, "You go into container."

Even though he's never had a bath before, he trusts you and gets into the tub. Watching in awe as his long hair floats to the surface, creating long black streaks within the water.

You can't help but blush as you look at his body. Never had you expected him to be so toned under his loose-fitting clothes. Especially his chest and arms. But it makes sense, he crawls around all day so his upper body strength has to be good, right?

Now that you're seeing him like this, you can't help but notice how long his legs are too. You've never actually seen him stand so it never occurred to you how tall he could be. Judging by how he fits into the tub, he must be taller than any person you've ever met before.

Imagine if he stood up like this...

Your thoughts drift and you get distracted, accidentally pouring loads of bubble bath into the tub instead of just a tad to keep him occupied.

"Fun! Fun!" He shouts excitedly as the tub fills with foaming bubbles, completely covering his body and overflowing from the tub.

"Shit!" you say under your breath, cursing yourself for letting those perverted thoughts sneak into your head. You can't stay mad though as you watch him giggle and play with the bubbles. Why does he have to be so freaking cute?

As he has the time of his life, you dig through the bubbles to clean him. Starting with his body and finishing with his hair. Taking over an hour to wash his hair alone.

As you clean his hair he experiments with these fluffy white things he's never seen before. Curiously eating them, sculpting them with his hands, and even putting them on you. He takes a clump of bubbles and forms them into cat ears on the top of your head.

"You cute!" he shouts excitedly.

You smile and do the same for him, "You cute!"

"We cute together!!" he smiles, having the funnest time with you.

Finally, once he's been all cleaned you help him dry off as he sits on your bathroom floor, watching curiously as the bubbles get sucked down the drain.

His clothes aren't quite done yet so in the meantime you let him wear an old pair of pajamas. They're pink Hello Kitty pajamas to be exact. Sure you had a plain black set that would do as well, but you just couldn't resist putting him in this. He looks so adorable as he crawls into the bed with you, laying on your lap as you brush his hair.

"Water container fun..." he mumbles on the edge of falling asleep, "Again again."

"Fun again," you smile, promising to give him another bath someday.

"Thank you," he nuzzles into you, "Me like you. Like you much..."

"Me like you much," you kiss the top of his head, "Me take care of you, you rest."

He doesn't want to sleep, he wants to stay up with you all night taking baths and playing with bubbles. But being in your embrace as you take care of him is just too much to resist. He hopes you'll do this again soon, or maybe you'll let him give you a bath and brush your hair next time.

He quickly drifts off to sleep, thinking about all of the fun things he wants to do with you. Meanwhile, you sit there and brush his long hair for another hour. Though you don't mind. Sitting here with him, brushing his hair as he sleeps on your lap, it doesn't get any better than this.

[descendintorantness]

Bal genuinely makes me sick. The way that Mal genuinely abuses him and is rewarded for it is actually horrific.

By the end of the series, Ben basically becomes Mal's magical house plant that gives her everything she wants, which she forgets to water all the time and throws out of windows when she's angry at it for being dehydrated and sad. And Mal is rewarded for her mistreatment of the plant with a position as Queen of Auradon, because the plant loves her for no discernible reason and also is the ruler of Auradon. 

(I'm very sorry for going overboard with the plant analogy.)

He is reduced to nothing but a side character in a story that he technically started. And Mal is the one who shoved him into the corner that his character ends up in. He has no agency anymore- he ceases to be an active character basically the second that Mal comes into the picture. Ben is nothing but Mal’s trophy for being a good person. His thoughts, hopes, and dreams (that don’t have to do with Mal) are never touched on by the story or the other characters. Where are his friends (who aren’t just Mal’s friend group)? Why do they never hang out with him or talk to him? When did he graduate? What else does he want to change about Auradon? What’s his relationship with his parents like? (Aside from the fact that they always side with Mal- no matter what.) All he can do in his life and his story is worry about Mal, give up anything good in his life for Mal, and listen to every single thing she says, even- especially- when she’s wrong. 

We’re supposed to believe that she loves and respects Ben when she makes every decision in their relationship and out, based on what she feels, not what Ben feels. She will violate him and strip him of autonomy without a second thought, just because it serves her.

I wanna have something clever to say about these pics (mostly the way he's staring in the first one because oh wow,) but that just made me realize this is really genuinely the last moment that he actually has any clarity or agency as a character, allowed to make his own decisions.

After this scene, for the rest of this movie and even D3, he's Never Allowed to Disagree With Mal Ever (but expected to take the blame for her actions, somehow) and like. I just wonder if he knows that's how it's going to turn out. He disagreed with her once, she ran off, and all her friends think he's the bad guy. He's still compassionate and it's framed as a bad thing ("The Isle are my people too" vs. "Ben, Uma captured you".) And he tells Mal, "do what you need to do."

The choice is squarely on her. If she wants to leave, fine. If she wants to stay, fine. She already told him they were done on the Isle of the Lost.

Cotillion comes, and hurray! Mal stayed! But Ben's under a spell and everyone acts like he's to blame, like he betrayed Mal somehow. Carlos even implying he would rather have left Ben for dead on the island.

I just wonder, if maybe Ben took a look at all the circumstances and everything, and Mal's mastery of manipulation, and understood what his future was going to be: Agree With Mal, Always, or he would be hated.

Unless Mal made the choice to leave again, but she doesn't.

[lvlybin]

ain't you ever seen a princess be a bad bitch?

summary   ༝༚༝༚ … ZB1 & princess treatment

preferences ! ૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა    ۫  ੭̲    제비스 x 𝓯!reader ⊹ cw none ( library )

✉️ sorry for kind of disappearing! I’m back to writing and I’m finishing up some works to post soon. I was cleaning out my drafts and found this <3 hope y’all enjoy

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓙iwoong ﹙��.﹚ㅤ

tries his best to be domestic with you

Being in love with Jiwoong is like something out of a fairytale. He is truly such a genuine and innocent person that your well-being and happiness is always his priority. And with those things in mind, it’s almost second nature for him to be domestic with you, at least, to the best of his abilities. Princess treatment to him is pampering you to the fullest and making you feel like you might as well be married to him already. Nights where he’s cooking while you’re sitting at the counter watching as he does his best to make you both a meal are a must. He’d have romantic jazz playing in the background and of course, he’s going to pour you a drink without you even having to ask. Jiwoong will do all the chores you don’t want to do: laundry, the dishes, etc. Even if you don’t live together yet, he’s constantly trying to show you why it would be such a great idea for you both to share a space. As if you don’t already know how great it would be, because he loves you more than anything else and wants to be around you all of the time.

only takes you on romantic dates

This version of princess treatment you weren’t even aware of until you were both lounging on the couch and Jiwoong says something along the lines of: “We haven’t gone on a date in a while”. And you look at him confused because you had just gone to Barnes & Noble together for practically a whole afternoon, only for him to say: “That’s not a real date”. Jiwoong only considers it a date if you’re being spoiled by going to a fancy restaurant or doing something romantic like having a picnic on the beach. While it’s nice to have little hang-outs now and then with him–going out to lunch together or running errands together, he genuinely will only have the best for you, and that includes thought-out and thoroughly planned romantic outings.

helps you get dressed

If you’re in a relationship with Jiwoong, he does not want you lifting a finger. While he’s sure you love having your independence, he can’t help but want to consistently do things for you. Including helping you get dressed. If you ask for his opinion on an outfit, he will give you it without sugarcoating. If you want him to pick out an outfit for you, he will be on his feet and picking out different things for you to try on and piece together with his help. But his favorite is without a doubt zipping up your dresses. Something about the small gesture is so intimate to him. The way he brushes your hair to the side and lets one hand rest on your waist while the other pulls the zipper up with him finally leaving a soft kiss on the nape of your neck… It makes him feel like he’s doing a good job caring for you. And the fact that you want him to do something that’s a part of your everyday routine, even if it’s getting dressed, genuinely makes him feel so included and involved with your life.

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓗ao ﹙𝔃.﹚ㅤ

will try / do anything or activity you want to do

Getting princess treatment from the princess himself is the highest privilege you could receive as his girlfriend. And necessarily, the things he does as ‘Princess Treatment’ are things he just thinks any good partner would do. So when you come running to him with a craft on TikTok you want to try or a new place you want to visit, he’s never going to say no. I think that despite being an introvert he really does enjoy trying new things and his favorite thing to do would be to try new things with you. Even if he honestly doesn’t really want to / think it doesn’t sound fun in the beginning. There have been times when you’ve mentioned something you’ve done with Hao to the other members and they’ve been in shock that he was willing to do it with you despite him saying no to doing it with them the previous day. He may pretend to complain a little, but he will ultimately do anything to see you happy.

compliments all day every day

Hao has concluded that if you’re dating him, you must love attention as much as he does. You at least have to know that you’re just as pretty, if not more, as him. He wants to see you blossom, to see your confidence grow when you’re with him, so he gives you as much of his attention as possible–and that includes compliments upon compliments. They start small so he can get you used to receiving such a large amount in a day, but once you’ve gotten past the stage when you blush shyly and muster a small “Thank you”, he’s praising you in practically every sentence he speaks. Whether he's saying that you did something well, that he likes your hair that day, or randomly mentioning how funny or kind you are–he’s making sure you know how special you are. In fact, he’s started challenging himself to see how many synonyms of Beautiful he can use on you every day.

loves doing your makeup and skincare, lets you practice your makeup skills on him too

It’s no secret that Hao loves taking care of himself, making sure that he looks his best every day. So when you began dating him, you honestly weren’t super surprised that he extended that trait to you as well. You feel like his little doll at times, with the way that he’ll sit you on the bathroom counter in the mornings after you’ve brushed your teeth and gently push your hair back to do your skincare routine. He just wants the best for you–is what he claims as he buys hundreds of dollars worth of completely new products for you to use, saying that he knows what’s best for your skin and what will enhance your appearance the most. He’s right, of course. And if you ever tell him that you miss doing your makeup (jokingly, because who wouldn’t want him to do their makeup every day?), he’ll sit in front of you and have you do his makeup. Kind of a big deal! But even if it looks bad, he won’t tell you, because you’re his princess and he knows that you did your best :P

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓗anbin ﹙𝓼.﹚ㅤ

treats you like his wife

Everyone knows that Hanbin is the greenest flag of a man to walk this earth and when you started dating him, it was like you both completely skipped the dating stage and went right to being a married couple. He is so committed to you, it’s actually insane (once again, normal basis of a relationship, but it’s Hanbin so). I’m talking doesn’t even look at any other woman, spends the majority of his time with you, is talking about you to his parents–all of it. You are his future and he makes that clear to you. Sometimes you feel like you’ve already started along the path of becoming that rich wife who goes to pilates classes and has two well-behaved children and doesn’t have to lift a finger because with Hanbin and the way he takes care of you, marriage does seem like the only option. Your relationship is the most important thing to him, and he doesn’t hesitate to put it above everything and make sacrifices for it. Hanbin also always makes sure to check things with you first. Your opinions on his decisions matter because he already sees you as the person he wants to marry.

HUGE on flowers

When Hanbin asked you out, he brought you flowers. When you went on your first date, he brought you flowers. The day after your first date, he sent you flowers. You could honestly open a flower shop with how many bouquets he gives you on a weekly basis, not that you’re complaining. He’s the type to get you big bouquets for every date you guys go on and it’s a different flower every time. He knows your favorite flower of course, so even if the bouquet is a completely different flower than that, he’ll at least include one of your favorite flowers just because he wants to make sure that you know that he hasn’t forgotten. Hanbin also makes sure you know what each flower supposedly means, just because he thinks it’s cute. At some point, you have to ask him to tone it back a little, because he’s been getting you flowers every time he walks past a flower place and you’re worried about how much he’s spending on you. He’ll tell you not to worry because this little action he does is a way for him to express how much he loves you.

makes sure you’re safe 24/7

Your safety is something that’s always in the back of his mind. He knows you can protect and take care of yourself, but he thinks that you shouldn’t have to worry about that–that you should only be worried about what will make you happy. And you can leave everything else to him. I’m an enforcer of the ‘Hanbin buckles your seatbelt for you’ agenda because he loves taking care of people and I think that small things like that just make sense for him. It gives him peace of mind to know that you’ll be safe. The sidewalk rule is also another thing that he makes sure he does. He wants to eliminate any possibility of you being in danger and that includes watching your purse while you guys are at dinner to make sure nothing gets stolen, making sure your windows are locked before he leaves your apartment, always holding your drink, etc. Anything that may slip someone else’s mind will never get past Hanbin.

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓜atthew ﹙𝓼.﹚ㅤ

he’s the best active listener

It’s no secret that Matthew loves talking, so he knows how discouraging it can be when someone isn’t actually listening to you. And when you get comfortable around him, you don’t stop talking either. He wants you to feel comfortable, he doesn’t want that aspect to leave your relationship, so he never makes you feel bad or annoying for yapping. Matthew is genuinely happy that you feel like sharing things with him, even if it is your obscure little thoughts and he wants you to know that. He’s amazing at making you feel heard. He’s always asking small questions or making comments to show you that he was listening to everything you were saying. Even his body language–Matthew is nodding along and maintaining eye contact and actively reacting to your words. The point is, he wants to make it clear to you that your words do matter, and that you should feel comfortable talking his ear off.

has you both send little daily updates to each other

Both the updates he sends you and the ones he asks you to send him are for you. He wants you to know what he’s doing, not that you don’t trust him, but Matthew wants you to see that he’s constantly thinking about you. That you almost always have all of his attention. Plus, he likes receiving little comments from you about what he’s doing. He thinks it’s adorable. And then for you, he is truly interested in everything you do and wants to be involved. Matthew saves all of the pictures you send him (the ones you’re in) and has a little folder in his photos that’s reserved for your daily updates. Lowkey you both have separation anxiety, but he’ll never admit it. Matthew will just say that he’s giving you the attention that you deserve.

always is touching you when y’all are walking

Matthew likes physical affection and will take any scraps of touching you he can get. Including when you guys are just simply walking together. Holding your hand is nice, he likes the feeling of how small your hand is compared to his and it gets the point across to other people that you’re taken, but I think that there are other forms that he likes more. Honestly, I can see him wanting you to link your arm with his, making you feel like a princess while he carries your bags or something. He’s able to hold you closer to him and have a tighter grip on you that way as well. And he likes the feeling of you feeling up his arm even if you think that he doesn’t notice it :P He’ll guide you around with his hand on your lower back too. Steering you away from people who might get in your way and softly rubbing on the area to make sure you know that he’s there. Piggyback rides and literally just carrying you are things that he likes doing as well. In his opinion, you should be carried everywhere, so he’s happy to do so.

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓣aerae ﹙𝓴.﹚ㅤ

prioritizes you no matter what

Kind of already touched on this with Hanbin, but I feel like it fits Taerae so well. He always wants you to talk to him and feel comfortable with him because I feel like when he does fall in love and get to the point where he trusts them with everything, a lot of his life will revolve around you. Even if you don’t notice it, he’ll do all of these little things with you / for you / to you that he does for no one else, which shows how you’re the only thing on his mind. Whether that’d be clinging to you at all times, letting you talk even if he’s in the middle of explaining something, keeping the things you like and dislike in the front of his mind… Basically, his thoughts revolve around making sure you’re happy and comfortable whenever you’re with him. You always make sure that he’s both of those things, so it only makes sense that he makes you his top priority.

never lets you feel embarrassed

As mentioned before, I think that comfort is a huge part of any relationship Taerae is in. He has a hard time trusting people, so establishing that trust requires comfort and when he feels comfortable, the pampering for his partner is quick to follow. That being said, if there’s ever an instance where something happens to you in public, like you spilled something on Taerae that’ll stain or you let out an embarrassing noise, he WILL say that it was him and or cover for you. “Oh yeah, I spilled this on myself, I should be more careful”, “That was me! Sometimes my voice can get really high”, etc. He would do anything for you, and that includes maybe feeling a bit of embarrassment for you. As long as you’re okay, then he’s okay with doing anything. Sometimes he lovingly teases you, but all of his efforts are lighthearted, and if you ever appear embarrassed by his words, he’ll say that he was joking and that all of the words he’d said were made up. And god forbid someone else tries to embarrass you. Taerae has no problem with speaking up and calling people out, especially when it comes to you. He’s your number one defender and anyone that says anything bad about you or to you will end up being the humiliated one.

you’re his passenger princess

We’ve got our passenger princess victim. Willing victim, at that. Maybe I’m just obsessed with the fact that Taerae can drive, but him driving in Camp ZeroBaseOne lives rent-free in my head T-T Anyways… when you’re in his car, you’re not lifting a finger. Don’t bother with trying to open the car door, Taerae will do that for you happily, making sure you’re comfortable and your seat is the way you like it before he gets in the driver’s seat. Even before you get in his car, he’ll have already gone to get you a drink, and if it’s not the drink you wanted (which is rare because he has your drink order memorized), he’ll gladly go get you the drink you wanted no matter how much you protest. The aux is yours, he likes listening to your music more anyway, and he wants you to leave your things all over his car. Whenever anyone else gets in the passenger seat, they aren’t allowed to move your things around (hair clips, spare makeup, little knick knacks you’ve accidentally left, etc.) or Taerae will probably make them sit in the back. He wants to let everyone know he’s taken. In fact, you could probably carve your name into the passenger seat. Bro does not care!

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓡icky ﹙𝓼.﹚ㅤ

always treats you gently

Ricky is already a soft-spoken person around most people, but he usually gets louder when he’s with people he’s comfortable with / with his friends. And of course he has those moments with you, but usually, he’s treating you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. You bring out the side of him that feels the need to protect and take care of no matter your age or any other difference. He’s so so patient with you. Whenever you don’t understand something, no matter the scenario, he’ll take his time to explain it to you so you don’t feel left out, confused, or anything else. But he ALWAYS makes sure that you don’t feel like you’re bothering him by asking questions. He’s happy to help you and take care of you. And his friends have never seen him act the way he does with you around anyone else. Even though they tease him for it, they think it’s genuinely sweet how he leans closer to you and speaks in a soft voice so you’re the only one who can understand him, and how he sticks by your side with a hand gently placed on your lower back to guide you.

is TOTALLY okay with being your accessory… supports it 110%

Ricky knows that if he’s with you out and about in public, he has to look his best. Not for his own sake (kind of his own sake, he wants you to always find him attractive), but for your sake. He wants to look like he’s good enough to be your partner and he wants you to be proud that you’re dating him. Obviously, you are, and you never hesitate to tell him that, and he believes you, but he can’t help it sometimes. You know those TikToks where it’s the girl in the front of the video and her boyfriend’s standing behind her and everyone’s like “omg he’s literally your accessory”? Yeah, that’s Ricky. And the funny thing is, he’s so proud of it. He’s honored to be your “accessory,” even though you would never call him that. He insists that he’s there to make you look better, that you both look so good together that it’d be impossible for others to not look at you both and get just the tiniest bit jealous of your relationship.

surprise dates surprise dates surprise dates

Random acts of affection are important for him. They’re one of his favorite ways of showing you how much he loves you because I think Ricky is someone who believes that actions hold more meaning than words. It’s become routine for him to text you in the morning, telling you when he’s picking you up and how nice you should dress. He’s actually really good at planning things out. Ricky keeps track of when you’re free or knows what kind of date he should take you on / not take you on (how much time he has, if you have to be back for something, etc.) At first, you hated how he would surprise you with them, but eventually, you got used to it. And now, you look forward to whatever date he’s planned without the smallest amount of worry and the largest amount of trust. This ties in with Ricky’s love for being the one taking care of you, and he knows you, so he knows what activities you would enjoy and what you wouldn’t. You don’t have to lift a finger if Ricky can help it.

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓖yuvin ﹙𝓴.﹚ㅤ

takes quiet moments together

You get to see every side of Gyuvin and he gets to see every side of you. So in the moments where you don’t want to talk, needing to just sit in silence, he makes sure that you both enjoy those moments as well. And enjoying each other’s presence is so important to him. He knows it brings you a sense of peace, so he’s happy to hold you as you lay your head on his chest–scrolling on your phone or reading a book, or simply just laying there. Gyuvin can tell when you need to recharge your social battery, and therefore he’s gotten good at getting you out of situations so you can be by yourself. Or, more like be by yourself with him. He never forces you to talk to him or makes silence feel awkward. And if you don’t want to talk, but don’t want to sit in silence, he’ll just talk about random things for you to listen to. These quiet moments are important to you, but they’re also important to him, and he never hesitates to study your behavior and determine if that’s what you need right in that moment.

shopping sprees

I firmly believe that Gyuvin is the one who will take you on shopping sprees literally for fun (for him). He LOVES spoiling and spending money on you even if he doesn’t act like it. Whenever you mention you’re going shopping, he’s up on his feet in an instant and saying that he wants to come to keep you company. But then, when you actually start the shopping, he’s the one picking out clothes and jewelry and stuff for you. “Oh this would look so good on you” / “You don’t have to get it, I just want to see you try it on” / “We can keep some of these clothes with me if you don’t have the closet space”. It’s like the concept of money doesn’t exist to him when it comes to you, so be careful so much as even glancing at something because Gyuvin will be picking it up and carrying it around until it’s time to check out for you even if you insist you don’t want it. Sometimes he doesn’t even mean to get you so many things, he just thinks you look good in everything and anything and the rest of the world should be as blessed as him to see you in the clothing you try on. Also, he definitely gets you like 30 presents on your birthday.

is always posting you on his social media

Gyuvin has multiple albums in his photo app just for you: date nights, holidays, mornings, etc. He likes to go back and look at them and the pictures of you just make him so happy that he can’t help but want to share them with as many people as possible. Imagine how surprised you are when random Instagram stories or posts of you come up. You always think it’s the sweetest thing that Gyuvin wants to share your relationship with his friends through social media and that he wants to document some things in that way, but more often than not, they’re pictures you weren’t even aware he took. None of them are ever bad though? It’s a way to show you how he sees you through his eyes. The pictures are always so beautiful, and he tells you that he doesn’t even have to try to get such pretty photos–you’re just that naturally beautiful.

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓖unwook ﹙𝓹.﹚ㅤ

brags about you to everyoneeee

You being his girlfriend is one of Gunwook’s best achievements. And EVERYONE knows it too. The topic of you pops up at least once in every conversation he has, whether you’re there in person or not. He gets so proud of everything you do, no matter how big or small. In fact, you could literally wake up in the morning and he would deem that something to share with people. You can do no wrong in his eyes, and sometimes, he gets so excited over the fact that you’re his that he has to share it with people. His friends might get a little annoyed because of how often he talks about you, but he can’t help it :( He could talk about you and how amazing you are for hours and not get bored. Gunwook hasn’t told you about his love for bragging about you, but the way he looks at you when he prompts you to tell other people about the things you’ve achieved or done recently, you still get a good sense of how proud he is to be yours.

carries things around for you

This is in the sense of always having things like hair ties for you, extras of the perfume you wear in his bag, if you have some kind of medicine he has that in his bag too… It was a habit that slowly built as your guys’ relationship progressed. Gunwook would always hold things for you whenever you would go out on dates (your lipgloss) and eventually, his pockets weren’t enough for the things he would request to take from you to free up your hands to hold. So, he started carrying a bag around. It was helpful for him, sure, but he did it for you. Now, said bag is full of items that you might need on a day-to-day basis. Miniatures of your makeup, snacks that you like, everything mentioned before, and others! Gunwook loves carrying things around for you–it’s less for you to worry about and he enjoys taking care of you, even in the smallest ways.

lowkey is always matching his outfits with yours

Okay, I don’t know if this qualifies as princess treatment but… I can just see Gunwook asking you for an OOTD and then showing up in a similar outfit to yours, saying “woahhh that’s weird :3”. He loves matching with you in the smallest ways: matching jewelry, the same color scheme, the same style of pants, the same shoes. The list goes on. It’s a really easy way to let people know he’s taken and he thinks it’s just the cutest thing ever when you guys match. Matching outfits is a pretty common thing between couples and Gunwook just wants to do couple-things with you :( He’s always wanting to show you off that’s all and wanting to relate every part of his life with you. Also, the matching of the outfits happens unintentionally a lot too, which only makes him even more giddy.

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓨ujin ﹙𝓱.﹚ㅤ

you’re the only one in his eyes

You are the only girl to exist in his eyes and he makes that clear. Sometimes, you have to remind him that he can actually talk to other girls without one-word responses and looking like he’s about to cry. But he’s just such a loyal person and you receive the majority of that loyalty. Yujin’s talking to everyone about you and asking for help with anything that he doesn’t quite know how to do. He just wants to make you happy (“Hyung, what should I get YN for her birthday?” / “I found this cute place to take YN, what do you think?” >.<). Anywho, he also will most definitely let you know in every way that you’re the only one for him / the only one he’s interested in. Yujin doesn’t believe in talking stages, he’s the kind of boy who’s learned from the romcoms and will get straight to the point of telling you he likes you. Because if he likes you, then that’s kind of a big deal with him, and he’ll not want to keep anything from you.

subconsciously picks up after you / cleans up after you even if you try to help

Yujin is constantly following you around, like a second shadow, a puppy–whatever you want to call it. He copies your movements sometimes, but more often than that, he’s cleaning up after you. It’s become a second-nature kind of thing to him. If you leave a wrapper from a snack you’re eating on a counter, he’ll get up and throw it away for you without you even noticing. And if your room is a little messy and you both are hanging out, he’ll get up from your bed and just begin to put things away while he continues talking to you. It’s sweet the way he knows where everything goes and how you like your belongings. That doesn’t mean that you just let him pick things up for you, though. Obviously, you can take care of yourself and clean up your messes, but if Yujin is around, it’s rare for you to actually be able to help. In the beginning, you tried your best to insist on helping him pick up after you both had made a mess in your kitchen while baking, but instead of accepting your help, he’d told you to sit at the counter so he could still talk to you while he worked. Yujin just likes being helpful, and maybe a part of him wants to show you that he can take care of you too.

buys you anything you want

I feel like this is something he would learn from Gyuvin, but Yujin wouldn’t be as obvious about it. If you mention wanting something, he would act like you were begging him to get it for you (“Are you really gonna make me get this for you?” / “I can’t keep buying things for you, YN”) even though you hadn’t even said anything about even buying it in the first place. Much less having him purchase it for you. Literally gives the “fine, *eye roll*, whatever” energy, but in a teasing way. Yujin doesn’t like making things easy for you, one of his love languages is teasing, but in the end, he wants to make you happy. And that includes the little things and pampering you by getting you small gifts. This treatment is most common with food or drinks. He would get you a snack before seeing you and then pretend that it was completely a coincidence: “They just happened to have your favorite drink at the vending machine too. Super weird” even though there’s only one convenience store that has that beverage so you know he went out of his way to get it for you :,)

[44unique]

my skin on your skin, again and again

lando norris x franco colapinto

summary: lando skips the gp celebration, and franco joins him to offer comfort. their mutual attraction surfaces, leading to a night of vulnerability and passion.

warnings: explicit content

word count: 1426

a/n: this work was inspired by the results of the brazilian gp but it took me a while to finish it (im sorry ig), and people on twt keep shipping them so here it is another story :) english is not my first lenguage

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

It was Sunday night, and Max and the other drivers went out to celebrate after the race, everyone except Lando. He just wasn’t in the mood. Things hadn’t gone the way he wanted on the track, and even though some of it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t shake the frustration.

Meanwhile, Franco wasn’t feeling as low as Lando, but he’d had a rough race too. He didn’t feel like mingling with the others at the party, so he chose to stay back in his hotel room instead.

Franco knew Lando had decided to stay behind, and he thought he might be able to cheer him up. To be honest, Franco had felt a spark of attraction ever since he had first met Lando. He liked the way Lando was so funny and kind, always the first to include him in every conversation and every plan the others made. He liked Lando.

But he wasn’t sure if Lando might feel the same way—or even if he’d feel something for another guy. Franco had heard rumors about Lando dating that girl, Magui or whatever her name was, and that only made him more insecure about how he felt. But he decided to ignore his doubts, take advantage of the small boost of confidence he was feeling, and go knock on Lando’s hotel door.

Lando opened the door after a while. His curls were wet, and he had a big old shirt that clearly didn't fit.

“Hello” Franco greeted, his boost of confidence beginning to fade.

 “I thought you went with the rest”

Franco denied “I didn't really want to go out”

Lando invited him in, his room was a bit messy and a bottle of wine on the table.

“Want a drink?”

The youngest nodded, just because he didn't feel like going out didn't mean he didn't want to drink.

“How did you know I was here?” Lando asked

“I saw you a little depressed, I assumed you weren't in the mood to go out”

Lando nodded, agreeing.

“Can I ask what has you like this?”

“The race didn't go as I wanted”

Franco was genuinely mesmerized watching Lando vent to him, he has always been positive and cheerful attitude, he had never seen him like that.

And deep down it scared him how much he liked being able to be there to cheer him up.

“What can I do to make you feel better?”

Lando looked at him with a raised eyebrow and raised the wine glass to his lips. "You can’t do much."

Franco clicked his tongue. “Come on, ask me anything”

Lando analyzed the situation. He had Franco in front of him, on his bed, trying to cheer him up and he had just told him that he could ask him for anything he wanted. And Lando certainly didn't feel like asking for what his mind wanted.

“Is what you want so difficult?” The youngest smirked, a playful glint in his eyes as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. Lando’s breath hitched, feeling as though the moment might just undo him.

And at that moment he didn't mind too much to leave the almost empty cup on the bed and jump on Franco to join their lips.

Franco didn't hesitate a second to give it back, if Lando regretted it at least he would be left with the experience.

But it wasn't like that, Lando didn't pull away, in fact he began to move his lips deepening the kiss, and Franco was clearly not indifferent, opening his mouth to give himself more access.

The bed had already several red stains due to the wine, but none of them cared, not when Lando was under Franco trying to pull him closer by the hair.

Franco was the first to break away, to try to catch his breath and get an explanation for what was happening. He looked directly into Lando's eyes, his pupils were so dilated that it was hard to distinguish their color.

“What's wrong?” Lando asked between gasps

“What are we doing?”

The curly-haired man's brow furrowed slowly. “Don’t you like it?”

“It's not that, I just don't understand why we're doing this”

“Cause I like you and I can tell that you like me too” Lando said, frustrated by the lack of action.

Franco sighed, relaxing a little, not too much, he couldn't when Lando was completely at his disposal with his messy curls and his lips and cheeks completely red.

He didn't think too much and joined Lando again in a battle for who had control between their mouths, he knew he wouldn't regret it. And if Lando for some reason did, the memory would be eternally in his mind as one of the best moments of his life.

Franco’s hands roamed over Lando’s chest, his fingers brushing against the smooth skin, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath his touch. Lando’s breath hitched when Franco’s lips found his neck again, kissing along the sensitive skin just below his jawline. A low moan escaped Lando as he tilted his head back, giving Franco better access, urging him to continue.

The tension between them was palpable, both of them needing more. Franco’s hands moved lower, skimming down Lando’s sides, pulling at the waistband of his pants. Lando’s breath caught, his body instinctively arching toward him, as he pulled Franco back into another deep kiss.

Lando broke the kiss, gasping for air, his hands pulling at Franco’s shirt, desperate to feel skin on skin. Franco didn’t waste any time, quickly stripping off his shirt and tossing it aside. Lando’s hands roamed over his chest, tracing the muscles he had only imagined touching. They shared a heated, hungry kiss, their mouths moving together as if they couldn’t get enough of each other.

Lando’s hands gripped Franco’s shoulders, pulling him down onto the bed, the sheets tangled beneath them. Lando’s legs wrapped around Franco’s waist, pulling him closer, grinding against him. Franco groaned, his body responding instantly, the friction between them driving him wild.

With a quiet growl, Franco moved lower, his lips trailing down Lando’s chest, kissing along the line of his collarbone, his breath hot against Lando’s skin. Lando shivered, his hands pushing at Franco’s hair, urging him to continue. He didn’t need to be asked twice. Franco kissed his way down, finally reaching Lando’s stomach, pausing for a moment to glance up at him, his eyes dark with desire.

“You okay?” Franco murmured, his voice low and rough.

Lando nodded, his breath ragged. “More than okay.”

Franco didn’t waste a second. His lips found the sensitive skin of Lando’s lower abdomen, and Lando couldn’t help but gasp. His body tensed in response, his hands fisting the sheets, his mind buzzing with the intensity of the moment.

Franco’s hands continued to explore, pushing aside the final barriers between them, his touch demanding and precise. Lando’s head fell back into the pillows, his breath coming faster, louder as he lost himself in the sensations coursing through him. Every touch, every kiss, sent waves of heat through his body, and all he could do was moan, letting Franco guide him.

As the intensity grew, their bodies moved together in perfect synchrony, each movement as a dance of desire. Lando’s moans filled the room, punctuated by Franco’s heavy movements, the sound of their connection echoing between them. They were both completely consumed, the rest of the world forgotten as they lost themselves in each other.

Eventually, the pace slowed, their movements becoming more languid, more intimate. Franco’s lips returned to Lando’s, this time soft and tender, as though savoring the closeness between them. Lando kissed him back just as gently, his hands running through Franco’s hair, pulling him closer.

When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless, their chests heaving as they gazed at each other. The tension had eased, replaced by a soft, quiet intimacy that wrapped around them like a blanket.

Lando smiled, his fingers tracing the line of Franco’s jaw. “That was… incredible.”

Franco chuckled, his eyes softening.

They lay together in silence for a while. Lando’s head rested on Franco’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and Franco’s arm wrapped around Lando, pulling him closer.

It was the kind of quiet moment that made everything else feel insignificant. Just two people, tangled up in each other, finding a kind of peace that neither of them had expected. It wasn’t about the race, or the pressure, or the world outside. It was just them, and that was enough.

[runraerun]

Heard a random 90s rock song & it legit got me thinking about Steve & Billy meeting again in their twenties... Like what if s3 never happened? After the fight at the Byers, Billy kept his head down & avoided Steve? I see him as being consumed by a sense of guilt/shame & yet still not being able to apologise until, that is, the day of their graduation when he's suddenly overcome with a need to just get it off his chest. He's been crushing on this guy since he got to Hawkins & he blew whatever chance he had of even just a friendship with him, but it doesn't matter now cos he's getting out of this shithole as quickly as possible, but he can't have this guilt gnawing at him any longer...So maybe he deliberately makes sure he bumps into steve at some point and mutters out a: "Harrington. We need to talk." And sucking on a cigarette like his life depends on it, hands shaking, barely making eye contact, Billy gives the world's shittiest apology. And it feels like his heart's gonna beat out of his chest & Steve's just standing there, staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face, before saying something like: "yeah, man. I'm sorry for that night too." (In my mind either Max let drop something about Billy's homelife or Steve has deduced something's not right). Anyway. Billy finally feels like he's able to breathe again for the first time in months UNTIL steve unknowingly utters the world's most devastating sentence: "I think we could've been friends if, y'know, shit hadn't gone down the way it did...oh well." And steve gives a sort of little grin and a laugh as if what he said wasn't a major deal. "Heard you're headed back to California?" Steve asks, and Billy's barely able to nod, still struck dumb by Steve's previous offhand comment. And maybe someone calls Steve's name and suddenly that's it. The moment is broken & Steve's leaving with a "Guess I'll see you around, Hargrove... or not" and a goofy little salute. And Billy thought he'd feel better. But in fact he feels worse. Because holy shit. Steve just said they could have been friends. And that's gonna haunt him for years....

Cue a few years later and they run into each other in Chicago (listen, the idea of Billy returning to California only to realise it no longer feels like home and maybe it never did consumes me), but yeah. They bump into each other accidentally and holy shit. Steve Harrington. He looks almost exactly the same. Other than the fact he's grown out the mullet and holy shit, are those highlights in his hair??? And billy's stunned by what looks like a genuine grin of delight that crosses Steve's face once he recognises who he's walked into. And maybe they chat for a little while; Billy doesn't even know what he's saying he's so in shock at meeting his highschool crush again. But just like the last time someone calls steve's name and of course steve has a girlfriend, of course he does (joke's on billy, cos it's just robin) and suddenly the moment's broken again and steve's walking away with a casual "it was good to see you again, billy" and billy is gripped with the thought that he can't let steve slip through his fingers again. how many people get a second chance like this? he can feel his old highschool crush flickering back to life where it's buried deep in his chest and maybe steve will never like billy like that but holy shit. billy still remembers the day steve said that maybe they could have been friends if things had been different and things are different now so why not take a chance??? and billy has never felt so brave or so fucking scared in his life as he does when he steps forward and calls after steve: "Hey Harrington! Wanna meet up and catch up properly some time?" and Steve's attention is back on him and goddamn. Billy didn't even realise how much he missed those eyes until now. ANyway!! This got away from me!! But 90s Harringrove pls and thank. Also the song i heard was lightning crashes by live. like the lyrics aren't even that appropriate but there's such a nostalgic feel to it.

oh my god. OH MY GOD.

Anon, this whole message has got me in a chokehold. Like, it’s such a direct hit. 🎯🎯🎯Billy choking on an apology because he’s so painfully unfamiliar with the very concept, the absolute devastation of hearing the potential of being friends with Steve was there, but he blew it, the PINING… urgh. How Steve can unknowingly fatally wound Billy just like that.

AND THEN THE HIGHLIGHTS ARE YOU JOKING?!

I hope that things get away from you many many more times, because this was incredible.

Okay okay. Now, if I may, I will now attempt to match your freak.

ahem

—

By some serendipitous fuckin’ miracle, Steve agrees to exchange digits with him. They couldn’t find a napkin or any other god forsaken scrap of paper to write on, so they just scribbled their numbers down onto each other's arm. Billy was so fucking on edge that when he was peering down at the pale expanse of Steve’s mole-speckled forearm he damn near forgot his own phone number. Jesus, he’s a wreck…

At least whenever it comes to Harrington, anyway. Dude has like, Billy’s own personal strain of kryptonite woven in through his DNA or some shit. It would explain why his hands always get clammy and his knees feel like they’re made of fucking jello every time Steve flashed those pearly whites his way.

Christ, Hargrove, get it together…

Billy had spent the rest of the week running a finger along the wobbly looking numbers, fading more and more every day. Before they fade completely through, he finally finds his balls and dials Steve’s number.

A girl picks up, which… well, Billy knows Steve has a girlfriend. He didn’t know they’re living together though… but whatever, it don’t change shit.

“Steve around?” He asks, clenching the receiver in his fist so tightly that he can hear the plastic creak.

“Who’s asking?” The girl says, sounding pleasant despite her words. Sandy-haired, freckles. Cute, Billy remembers. Harrington always did go for the cute ones.

“Billy,” he answers, “Billy Hargrove. He’ll know who I am.”

“Oh, Billy,” The girl’s voice draws out his name like it’s an answer to a question that she’d been stuck on. “It’s about time you called.”

Which. That…

What the hell does that mean?

While Billy’s puzzling it out, she hears the girl holler for Steve, telling him Billy is on the line. His name is said with a weird amount of familiarity.

Billy switches ears and shakes out the stiffness in his hand. Focuses on breathing evenly instead of the steady flow of questions suddenly piling up in his head.

“Billy?” Steve’s voice, clear as a bell, asks from the other line.

Billy clears his throat, “hey, man.”

“Hey. I was just about to call you.” Steve says, doing that thing where he so casually drops bombs onto Billy’s world, leveling his cities with a passing word.

“Beat you to it.” Billy grins, and hears the little huff of a laugh on the other line.

“Always so competitive,” Steve teases, and Billy can just hear the smile. It makes his chest ache. It’s the sweet kind of ache, though. “Haven’t you ever heard it’s not winning that matters, it’s taking part?”

Billy shakes his head even though Steve can’t see him and sneers, “sounds like some shit losers say to each other.”

That gets a genuine laugh from Steve, all breathy and sharp, and Billy feels himself laughing along from the sheer thrill of getting Steve going.

“Jesus, I forgot how much of an asshole you are.” Steve sighs, but there’s no heat behind it. Just shit talk. It’s fine. What guys do.

“Yeah yeah. Can’t change my spots, or whatever.” Billy mumbles as he scuffs his boot along the floor. Fucking antsy. Jonesing for a cigarette. Just get on with it you piece of shit. He takes a breath and then takes the plunge. “So listen, we should hang out this weekend. I know a few good bars where we could catch up. Maybe get into some trouble.”

Steve makes a scoffing sound, “what kind of trouble are we talking here, Hargrove?”

His heart jackrabbits in his chest. He loves this part. Billy brings the receiver just a little closer to his lips. “The fun kind, Harrington.” He murmurs, voice pitched low.

There’s a brief, unbearably tense couple of seconds where Steve doesn’t speak. He just lets Billy dangle like a hooked fish. Static from the line. He doesn’t breathe. Then.

“Friday at 8?” Steve tosses the offer out, real casual-like. And with it, Billy feels the muscles around his neck and shoulders relax, like he got shot with a tranquilizer dart. Steve continues, “You wanna meet at the same coffee shop from before? I live in the apartment building just across the street from it.”

Fancy, Billy thinks. Of fuckin’ course. All the buildings on that block are the high end kind; with door men and balconies and working elevators. Billy only ever finds himself in that leg of the city when a pipe bursts or a sink gets clogged and Billy gets called in to fix it. Of course Steve’s living in the lap of luxury here in Chicago. Mommy and Daddy’s only child. Not that it’s his fault, Billy supposed. Some people are just born luckier than others.

“Sure, rich boy,” Billy grins, “bring your appetite though, I’m buying nachos.”

Steve heartily agrees. Because obviously. Who the hell could say no to that? Rich or poor, nachos are nachos.

It ain’t a date. It ain’t. It’s just two guys hanging out, y’know, catching up. For old times sake. Getting into some trouble, like Billy said. It ain’t date.

So what if he calls and asks Heather to pre-approve his outfit when everything he owns suddenly looks stupid on him? And who cares that he dabs double the amount of cologne onto his chest and triple down his pants—Billy likes to smell good, it ain’t a big deal. He wears a silver chain around his neck, the one that matches his earring, and undoes a few more buttons than usual to show it off. It’s cold this time of year but he figures they’ll be inside for most of the night anyway. Drinking, shooting pool, tossing darts. Shit like that.

Billy chain smokes as he waits outside of the coffee shop, sucking back one cigarette after the other, trying not to think about how he’s about to see Steve fucking Harrington again; the one who got away. Or, one one Billy never even fucking had a chance with in the first place, more like. He keeps wondering if he’s making a mistake. If he should just go home, forget he ever ran into that long legged, poofy haired, Bambi-eyed—

But then Steve’s there, handing Billy some froo-froo drink from inside (somehow they’d missed each other???) before he starts giving Billy a hard time for still not having a proper winter coat. Steve’s got highlights in his hair and eyeliner on his lower lashline and a spot of foam from his drink on the tip of his nose and Jesus fuck.

Billy’s in trouble.

[monamipencil]

ok wow, took me 4 hours to read and annotate this.

i love LOVE the banner, it rly like set the mood of the story and i love your editing skills !!

whoops, this is long.

— plot; easily my most fav wonwoo fic. oh god, i was from the moment you announced in front of me was in the works. angsty fic with best friend wonwoo, i was SOLD. plus unrequited love? pining? realistic characters? yes. the angstiest piece written so beautifully and done with so much effort. and this hits way too close to home. i literally felt called out at multiple points of reading. i just love how realistic and gut wrenching this is.

— oc; she's an idiot, i love her. honestly, i feel like she's me lmao. everything from pining like an idiot to the buzzfeed unsolved and aot, man. she's so well sculptured in a way her characterization is realistic. her sensitivity, the willingness to let him walk over her like that, pining, naivety, accepting him no matter what. fucking hell, she wasn't even angry at last, just so tired and soft with her wordings, only breaking down by the very end. she needed a push to take a stand for herself and i'm so glad she did!

— wonwoo; *sighs* the very introduction and he was already being a dick. but goddamn the fact he's genuinely oblivious to it? when i was expecting toxic bsf! wonwoo, i didnt expect him to be a cardboard cut-out of he-who-shall-not-be-named. ig every girl has stumbled across these type of guys. it would've been so easier to hate by just seeing the story from his pov. but introducing his thoughts and views made me fee pity for him. bcz yeah, he's human too and as much as he's despicable, i understand him. a true gray character. his feelings were so complex. the string of relationships that never worked out were so bitter to read about, him ghosting her yet always crawling back, the uncertainty when she started ignoring him, the jealousy, the anger. his character was so raw and human. as much as i feel sympathy for him, sometimes leaving ppl like this behind is the best answer.

— seokmin; ok, i was so enamored by this guy, that i completely overlooked the fact that he could have bad intentions. like?? if you read thru my annotations, i genuinely liked him? even when wonwoo said he knew what he was doing, i thought wonwoo was being stupid. ... until i heard it straight from seokmin. man, the twist? i was so shocked, i dont even know what's gonna happen lmao. this is crazy.

— the friends; i love them from what we've seen of them. the scene with gyu giving him a reality check? fuck yes, you need friends like that. not only was he looking out for her, he was looking out for him too. i loved it!

— annotations;

Your phone beeps indicating that he’s hung up and you can feel the heartstrings pull inside your chest. How many times will it take for Wonwoo to find someone he actually wants to be with? And why is it never you? 

the angst is already hitting omfgggg

and the prologue feels like the opening to a movie, i love it so much.

“Wait, what? You and Wonwoo aren’t dating?” Seungcheol asks you, forcing you into the hot seat. 

asking the real questions here

Looking over at Wonwoo, you anxiously wait for his answer, your chest blooming with hope, only for those buds to be washed away in a millisecond. 

nooo, but also yesss for the slowburn

“No, c’mon, we’re just friends. That’s it, right?” Wonwoo turns to you, trying to get you to back him up. 

that hurts..

But you sit there, with your heart crushed in your hands, lifeless and shrivelled. Like his words and actions had the power to tear the life out of you. The worst part was that he did all this without knowing. He’s completely oblivious to your feelings, and you only have yourself to blame.

this is already hitting omfg 

He becomes more detached when he’s in a relationship, and you’re okay with that. His priorities change and you’re okay with that. Despite your feelings for him, you know that you can’t force him to feel the same way. And you should be okay with that. 

ow ow ow, ok. 

but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less to see the person you’re in love with, fall in love with someone else. 

🙁 angst is angsting

Having Seungcheol confirm that Wonwoo has never felt anything romantically for you was like a stab in the stomach, and him getting you to back up his words was just him twisting the knife. 

reading this while im on my periods is gonna punch me in the gut

“It’s alright,” he coos, pulling you into his strong arms.  

🧍not me serving lanes with seokmin lmao

You have all these examples of why he would probably be the worst boyfriend ever, yet your heart still belongs to him.

been there, done that. i am guilty your honor

You were hoping that he would go, even looking forward to it. Is that pathetic? To want to see him everywhere you go? Maybe you were pathetic to the point where you only felt like hanging out with your friends if he was there. 

she’s down bad and attached af but I UNDERSTAND RAHH 

He sighs as he sinks into the plush cushions, spreading his legs while he puts his arms up.

🧍… i giggled 

Wonwoo’s arm circles your shoulder, pulling you closer to him and forcing your head to rest delicately on his broad shoulder.

RAHHHHHHHH 🦅

“Of course, what are best friends for?” 

ofc ofc … best friends …

Most people fall in love gradually, slowly growing feelings for the person before they can even call it love. Like the way the seasons steadily turned from winter to spring. Green grass peeking from underneath the melting snow, or flowers gently blooming and unravelling their new set of stems and petals. For you, it was different.

this was so beautiful, i just had to point it out. Anna’s writing >>>>

If anything, falling in love with Wonwoo felt like a snowstorm in the middle of a sunny day.

alexa play, snow on the beach (anna’s version)

He was the shy, scrawny new kid in your class, and no one paid mind to him except you.

fuck, i feel called out

Despite his interest in collecting pokémon cards and his crooked glasses that were too big for his face, you were in love. 

is this about me?

You were like two peas in a pod that whole year, and the only time you and Wonwoo spent time apart was when he had to leave during summer break to visit family in Korea. 

this fucking play is abt me

It annoyed you to see all these people suddenly interested in him. You were angry that just because he grew a few inches and learned to do his hair didn’t mean he was that much different from how he was last year. 

oh fucking hell, anna are you perhaps stalking me??? im having flashbacks

He started to invest more of his time into her until he decided she wasn’t worth his energy anymore. Then the calls would come, his contact name flashing across your phone screen to ask you for advice. 

wonwoo bro, what is this behaviour

Everything that you weren’t.

fuck, ok that hurts (i refuse to cry so early)

Others may have tried to rationalize with Wonwoo, but you didn’t care. You wanted your friendship with him to turn back to normal. Your adolescent brain ignored that it was wrong to encourage him, as long as he was fully yours again.

ik normally ppl would hate this, so do i. but been there, done that… not proud of it

Like a siren to a sailor, your heart sang with deep imagery. Filling your thoughts with illusions of you and Wonwoo finally together. But your mind doesn’t let you go without a fight. It knows that beyond the deep waters where your siren-voiced heart lies is nothing but a bottomless pit.  The possibilities are endless, and you’d rather stay safely grounded in your boat of rationality. 

your imagery ???? holy shit, i never thought of the siren metaphor in this way. anna, ur brain >>

“It's never a problem if it’s you,” he chuckles as you dawdle over to the passenger side of his car. 

🧍*sighs* pls dont tell me he’s gonna talk like this the entire time. Wtf jeon wonwoo

Watching Wonwoo move to the side as he opens the car door for you. His actions make you blush, and you know you’ll think about it for the rest of the night. 

listen, this is gonna be difficult if he's gonna keep acting like this

His fingers would probably be laced with yours, or rubbing soothingly against your thigh while his other hand gripped the steering wheel. Planting kisses on your cheeks at every red light. It seemed like heaven on the other side. But you knew reality would crush your delusions soon enough. 

Delulu is the solulu (in fiction)

The only thing that mattered to you was the fact that she was able to bring out Wonwoo’s deep laugh. The kind of laugh that only befalls upon your ears when he finds something genuinely funny.

oh here comes the jealousy.

At this point, you weren’t sure who to envy, Wonwoo or the girl he was flirting with. You find it unfair that he doesn’t realize how greatly he can impact your feelings. 

asdfghjkl, jealousy is one ugly demon. I hate it

Everything just seemed so unfair, how could you possibly be happy if your feelings for Wonwoo were constantly in the way of it all? It’s tiring, worrying about him, yearning for him. You could do so many other things with your time, and when you look toward the future, you know that you’ll regret how much of your life you wasted loving someone who doesn’t love you back. 

another hit in the gut, it seems so important at that time but looking back, nope.

“Hey, look at me–” he grabs your face, gentle as a mouse, rubbing away the tears from your cheeks. “You are not a burden. We care, that’s why we worry, and I just want to be there for you.” 

🥺🥹 friends like this >>>

Seokmin is like your favourite childhood blanket, keeping you warm and away from everything that could possibly hurt you. He’s always willing to hear you rant about things that you know you could never tell Wonwoo. 

i need a seokmin in my life rn

Jihoon groans as Soonyoung practically breaks out into full song and dance, causing you to sing along with him.

lmao, i love soonyoung 

huhu, im so READY for wonwoo’s pov

Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo.

I screamed when i saw this, FROM THE TEASER ASDFGHHJKL

He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling. 

wow, try being her for a sec, my guy

Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care.

10 points for self awareness!!

Because in his mind, you’re his best friend.

I folded so fucking fast, im not immune to possessiveness

[wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u. 

i am not immune to jeon wonwoo

The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he has witnessed. 

yes yes YES, he’s jelly 

Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he could keep you safe.

i love his complexity. the most perfectly gray character, like any other human being. I love your characterisation of him so much!!

That hadn’t been the case at all, and for the two months that he spent in Changwon, he couldn’t help but count the days till he could come back home. Where you had been patiently waiting for him.  He despised being away from you, and he had yearned for you every moment he was gone.

Awww, this is cute but knowing how’s he gonna act in the future ….

“You know, you’re still so skinny for your age. Do your parents not feed you enough?” 

i hate these typa relatives ??? like bro LOOK AT URSELF

Faintly recalling how you were planning to stay up late every night to watch BuzzFeed unsolved videos, or until your mom yelled at you to go to bed. 

AHHH, ANNA U AND ME, WE ARE THE SAME PERSON omg i love buzzfeed unsolved. 

Wonwoo missed you, and your stupid obsession with horror podcasts and YouTube shows. He missed the way your smile would shine so bright as you talked about all the haunted places the hosts would visit. 

fuck this reminds me of him. anna, you stalker 

And it was then that Wonwoo realized that he wasn’t all that bad-looking, after all. 

no fuck, everything reminds me of him wtf

He remembers thinking about how soft her hands were, and how pretty she looked with her hair tied up in a messy bun. 

🧍u have a girl waiting for u back at home but i wont blame him

By the end of summer, Wonwoo started to miss you less and less.

…… this hurts

Finally, for the first time in his life, Wonwoo felt serene, and that made him a little more whole than he was when he first landed in Changwon. 

but i am happy for him. It’s important to not base ur happiness on someone else !!

On a subconscious level, Wonwoo could not stop comparing Haein to you, and as fucked up as that was, it was completely out of his control. 

uh…. Wonwoo ??

“It all makes sense now! Eren had Zeke fooled!” 

AOT MENTIONED

“I'm sorry babe, but I gave up after the first episode,”

…. ??? im offended 

He was never able to comprehend why he couldn’t keep feelings for anyone after the six-month mark, and it almost frustrated him. Something was missing in every single relationship he had been in, and he wasn’t sure what that was. But he was determined to find an answer. 

… yeah i think i know

The answer was you.

There it is

With the amount of near run-ins he’s had with you and Seokmin on campus, he’s begun to sense that it’s some sort of karma. Whatever that karma may be for, he fully believes that it’s completely unwarranted. 

oh it is warranted, trust me. 

“Serves you right, you’re a dick to her, man.” Mingyu shrugs without any remorse to spare. 

TELL IT, GIVE IT TO HIM, GYU

“How blind are you? You have glasses and everything but you can’t see how mean you are to her sometimes? Really?” Mingyu almost sounds offended on your behalf as he stares at Wonwoo with an incredulous expression. 

im hollering lmaooo

Wonwoo is going to throw up. There's a tightness in his chest and a burning sensation behind his eyes.

ok, i feel bad for him.

Not only has he been a terrible friend without realizing it, but he’s pushed you so far to the brink that you’d rather ignore him than attempt to hash out what’s been troubling you.

poor guy, didn’t even realise it. 

What type of person has Wonwoo become that he resorts to stalking you from the front of your building?

💀 idk if i shud laugh im so sorry

That same apologetic attitude died a fiery death after watching Seokmin leave your apartment. 

nvm, this is so messy and so real

You were fine, and he should’ve known that the root of all his problems started with the name Lee Seokmin. 

Bro, just grow a pair and go talk to her instead of coming to conclusions on ur own wtf

The deathly twist in his gut intensifies the more he ponders on what may have happened during Seokmin’s visit. Wonwoo desperately wants to stop thinking about the possibilities, especially because your lack of clothing only fueled that inferno inside his mind. 

wonwoo, aren’t you her best friend? her sexual ventures now annoy you, hmmmmmmmm i seeee

Wonwoo yearns for you so much so that it supersedes any part of common sense he has left in him. 

slow burn, yearning, ah yes the only two things keeping me alive

“The number you have called is not available, please leave a message at the tone,” an automated voice affirmed his suspicions. 

🧍… i did not expect her to block him just like that but queen knows her worth !!

“What the hell are you doing here?” Both Wonwoo and Seokmin speak in unison. 

i ….. uhm … this is messy

Minnie. Wonwoo almost threw up in his mouth.  Minnie. The nickname is parallel to nails scraping against a chalkboard. 

i feel bad for him but don’t balme her either rahhhhhh

“I could say the same thing for you,” Seokmin mutters, unperturbed, “I didn’t have to do anything you know? Just a little push and she fell into my lap, voluntarily.” 

HUH?????????? WAIT WHAT. WTF OH NO NO

He was wrong about Seokmin. Even though he had known about his friend's crush on you for years, Wonwoo didn’t expect the lengths Seokmin would go to in order to cut him out of the picture. 

oh ….. oh my god. wtf

He knew you well enough that you wouldn’t just block him so carelessly, without a word no less. 

I KNEW IT

Yet he was no match for Seokmin, not after the fact that you allowed him into your home, your heart, so willingly. 

Nooooo, wonwoo. i am very shocked by the turn of events

Is this how it feels? To actually care about someone and whether their decisions might affect him later on? 

damn this alluding to his prev relationships … makes me sick. I mean he didn’t know better but still … 

“Did you fuck him?” Wonwoo cuts to the chase, not leaving any room for you to ask questions. 

😭wtf wonwoo

Wonwoo had no clue, but the thought of his friend-now-enemy defiling you, tasting you, while Wonwoo desperately waited for your call caused him to direct all his anger to you. Perhaps it’s undeserving to do so, but Wonwoo’s frustration spoke for him before his brain could even register what he was saying. 

i get him but boy pls, this is not the way

His urge to self-sabotage overrides his common sense. 

understandable but stil smh

I fell in love with my best friend, and the worst part was that you didn’t care enough to notice. 

SHE SAID IT, OMG SHE SAID IT

He should’ve known that you were in front of him this whole damn time.

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH 🦅🦅🦅

In Front of Me (1)

cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me ₊˚

⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriends to (?), angst, smut (R: 18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: 40.6k (part 1) (part 2: here)

⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time.

⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, unrequited love (for the most part), pining, toxic!wonwoo, toxic!reader, both in wonwoo and readers pov, questionable protagonists, mentions of other svt members, happy ending (?), emotionally constipated characters (wonwoo), flashbacks, slight seokmin x reader, a lot of emotions thrown everywhere. (content warnings under the cut)

⊹ note: this story was meant to be posted for wonwoos bday, but if you know anything about me by now, i never really stick to my self made deadlines lol. thank you to my cutieful, big brained beta readers: ♡ @junkissed @chocosvt and @sunniques ♡ everyone in @svthub and @highvern and @gyuswhore who helped me w this fic as well ! if u look closely this is pretty much just a sugar coated version of real life events lol... anyways i hope u enjoy and lmk what u think thru the replies and reblogs :) !

⊹ masterlist, fic playlist.

⊹ smut tags: no smut in this part :p ⊹ warnings: alcohol, reader is downbad for wonwoo, stalking, slut-shaming, evasions of privacy, if i missed anything lmk! cuz ik i did i just can't think of what hehe :p

⊹ what i would like to note about this story before you read it: you're not meant to like these characters (for most of the story at least lol), they are flawed in many ways, thats the whole point of this story tbh. tmi--but this story is pretty much my free therapy lol. and i love a messy plot! wonwoo and reader are just two normal people in this story and i wanted to write something a little more raw than i'm used to. so just take what i say with a grain of salt before reading ♡ i still want you to enjoy this story because i poured my soul into it. so thank you for your support and kind asks and comments about the teaser!

prologue. 

Despite your age, you’ve never been in a serious relationship. There was always something holding you back, or rather, someone. 

In all the years you’ve known Wonwoo, you’ve always thought maybe one day, he would look at you in a different light. Hoping that he could reciprocate the feelings you’ve harboured for him since the eleventh grade. 

He was the one who constantly moved out of relationships. You couldn’t even count the amount of late-night calls where he asked you what his “next step” should be. The doting best friend that you are, you’d gladly stay up all night trying to help him fix his girl problems. 

“I just, I don’t have feelings for her anymore. Is that wrong?” he asked you over the phone. 

Tossing and turning in your bed you let out a deep sigh. One thing is always guaranteed with Wonwoo: in a relationship, he loses feelings quickly. No matter how much he likes the girl, no matter how obsessed or possessive he feels for them at the beginning of it all, it diminishes by the time the six-month mark hits. 

Although he may be a great friend to you, relationships were never his strong suit. 

“It’s not wrong to fall out of love, but how many times are you going to break up with someone before you decide to stay?” you ask him, and he pauses to think. 

“I don’t know, but I can’t stay, that would make things worse,” he sighs. “It’s better to just stop this whole thing now.” 

“I agree, but are you sure?” you continue to ask him the same questions you’ve been asking since you were sixteen. 

“I’m sure,” he replies with a heavy sigh. 

“Okay, then goodnight. It’s almost one in the morning,” you try to cut the call, but he continues to speak. 

“I’m not the bad guy, right?” he asks you for reassurance. 

“No, you’re just human Wonwoo. There’s nothing wrong with losing feelings for someone,” you affirmed. 

“Alright, thank you, good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers listlessly. 

“Good night, Wonwoo.” 

Your phone beeps indicating that he’s hung up and you can feel the heartstrings pull inside your chest. How many times will it take for Wonwoo to find someone he actually wants to be with? And why is it never you? 

act one, favorite crime.

chapter one. 

“Wait, what? You and Wonwoo aren’t dating?” Seungcheol asks you, forcing you into the hot seat. 

The rest of your friend group is boring holes into your face as they all sit around Jeonghan’s living room. The blood rises in your cheeks, but you shake your head anyway. 

It feels like every time you’re with your friends, they ask you the same set of questions. Constantly wondering why you and Wonwoo haven’t thought about dating, or why you two haven’t decided to take the chance and just be together. 

“You guys need to stop asking that. A guy can befriend someone of the opposite gender,” Wonwoo defends the two of you. 

“You’re telling me in all the years you’ve known her, you haven’t developed feelings for her once?” Cheol continues to instigate, and your eyes go wide. 

Looking over at Wonwoo, you anxiously wait for his answer, your chest blooming with hope, only for those buds to be washed away in a millisecond. 

“No, c’mon, we’re just friends. That’s it, right?” Wonwoo turns to you, trying to get you to back him up. 

Your mouth runs dry as he stares at you, his eyebrows rising in anticipation. 

“U-uh yeah, Wonwoo’s right, we’re just friends,” you blurt out, not being able to handle all the expectant eyes on you all at once. 

“See? Now can you all just get off our backs?” he chastises. 

The chatter starts up again, moving past the topic of you and Wonwoo’s friendship. But you sit there, with your heart crushed in your hands, lifeless and shrivelled. Like his words and actions had the power to tear the life out of you. The worst part was that he did all this without knowing. He’s completely oblivious to your feelings, and you only have yourself to blame.

You understand your relationship with Wonwoo is different from most people’s, but at the same time, it should be normal for a girl and a guy to just be friends. And at least you respect Wonwoo’s feelings, and you also respect that whenever he’s dating someone the dynamic between you two shifts. 

He becomes more detached when he’s in a relationship, and you’re okay with that. His priorities change and you’re okay with that. Despite your feelings for him, you know that you can’t force him to feel the same way. And you should be okay with that. 

You’ve never tried to get in the way of his love life, or purposefully give him bad advice to ruin what he has with someone else. Not since you were seventeen, and at that time in your life your frontal lobe was a measly speck of dust, but it's different now. Now, your morals don’t change just because you love him, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less to see the person you’re in love with, fall in love with someone else. 

two. 

“Hey, you okay?” Seokmin approaches you, and you turn your head, acknowledging his presence. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m alright,” you mutter, but you know you don’t look that way. 

Seokmin has known you since high school and has seen you through everything, probably more than Wonwoo. He knows when you’re not feeling well. A sympathetic permanent on his lips as he continues to observe you play with the food on your plate, pushing around the food aimlessly but never taking a bite. 

The sounds of people conversing throughout the dining hall never die down. But luckily, the commotion keeps your thoughts of Wonwoo at bay, or at least that’s what you like to think. But your heart can’t seem to let go of that moment from the other day. Having Seungcheol confirm that Wonwoo has never felt anything romantically for you was like a stab in the stomach, and him getting you to back up his words was just him twisting the knife. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? You can tell me,” he sighs, pushing the hair covering your face and placing it behind your ear. 

You can feel the tears start to pool, but you try your damndest not to let them spill—not like this, not in front of so many people. 

“It was just something Wonwoo said when we were all at Hannie’s house,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact with your friend. 

“What did he say?” 

“That he’s never liked me before,” you sigh, feeling a tear slip from your eye. 

Cursing yourself in your head, you hate how much your feelings for him affect you. You hate how he doesn’t have to even be in front of you, yet he can still cause your emotions to fluctuate. 

“It’s alright,” he coos, pulling you into his strong arms. 

It felt weird, to hug Seokmin so tightly in the middle of your university’s dining hall. But you’re thankful for how aware he is, how he actually cares about your feelings. You felt melodramatic sitting there crying in the fucking dining hall of all places, but you couldn’t help but let your tears flow as Seokmin comforts you with his soft voice. 

“You deserve more than this, I hope you know that,” he whispers in your ear.

three. 

Over the next few days, the words Seokmin had whispered to you kept replaying in your head. You did deserve better and looking at all of Wonwoo’s past relationships is the perfect example. He’s not exactly the ideal boyfriend, so why did you even have feelings for him in the first place?

You could feel a migraine coming on from how hard you were thinking, but Wonwoo still seems to be the only person you can’t let go of. No matter how many times you’ve tried. 

A knock on your door brings you out of your thoughts. It was late, and you don’t remember anyone messaging you saying that they were going to come over, but you open the door anyway. 

“Hey, sorry I didn’t text,” Wonwoo moves past you, takes his shoes off, and plops on your couch. 

“It’s okay, what’s up?” you move to sit beside him. 

“I broke up with her,” He says, shrugging. 

Taken aback by his nonchalance, your eyes widen. He seems calm for someone who has just broken up with his girlfriend. But you try not to think too hard about it, or you might just have to take another Advil to remedy your already growing headache. 

“Well, how did it go?” you ask with a bit of apprehension. 

Knowing Wonwoo, you knew that he probably just dumped her over the phone or something. He’s never been bothered to really break up with someone. 

You have all these examples of why he would probably be the worst boyfriend ever, yet your heart still belongs to him. It’s pitiful, to say the least, people probably would think that you’re a masochist because you subject yourself to staying by his side when he has feelings for another. 

“She was crying, but at least it’s over now,” Wonwoo informs you as he eats the snacks you had left on your coffee table. 

“Oh.” You could feel the guilt start to seep into your veins. 

It never felt good to hear Wonwoo talk about his breakups, but you’re not sure how to react. There’s a part of you that’s happy to know that he’s single again, but the majority of you pities the girl who had just gotten her heart broken. 

Wonwoo continues to munch on the snacks left on your table while your mind tries to process the information you’ve been given. Hearing him talk so casually about his breakup leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but you decide to switch topics instead of asking any more questions. 

“Are you still going to Seokmin’s thing this weekend, though?” you ask him, trying to fill the air with something to drown out your rapid heartbeats. 

He shrugs his shoulders, “If I feel like it. Are you?” 

The bottom of your stomach tightens. You were hoping that he would go, even looking forward to it. Is that pathetic? To want to see him everywhere you go? Maybe you were pathetic to the point where you only felt like hanging out with your friends if he was there. 

“I mean, I don’t have a ride so…” you trail off, pretending to pay attention to whatever was playing on the T.V. screen. 

“I’ll go since you’re going, that way you have a ride,” he mumbles, adjusting his posture to lean back on your couch. 

He sighs as he sinks into the plush cushions, spreading his legs while he puts his arms up. You’re very aware of his proximity, and you try not to let it show. But the smell of his cologne invades your senses, knocking the breath out of your chest. 

Wonwoo’s arm circles your shoulder, pulling you closer to him and forcing your head to rest delicately on his broad shoulder. Exhaling, you let yourself enjoy his way of showing affection. Although to him it means nothing, and to you, quite literally everything. 

“Thank you for agreeing to go to Seokmin’s so I have a ride,” you whisper but still avoid eye contact so he doesn’t notice your flustered expression. 

“Thank you for letting me barge in here just so I can talk about my breakup,” he whispers back, kissing the top of your head. 

“Of course, what are best friends for?” 

four. 

Most people fall in love gradually, slowly growing feelings for the person before they can even call it love. Like the way the seasons steadily turned from winter to spring. Green grass peeking from underneath the melting snow, or flowers gently blooming and unravelling their new set of stems and petals. For you, it was different.

 Falling in love with Wonwoo wasn’t gradual at all. 

If anything, falling in love with Wonwoo felt like a snowstorm in the middle of a sunny day. Your affection for him grew rapidly, and before you knew it, your mind was clouded with him and him only. It became hard to stay rational as if you were driving down a snow-filled road without any control over the steering wheel. Swerving into different lanes, your brakes malfunction, making it hard to bring your car to a full stop. Falling in love with Wonwoo was not gradual or easy.

When you met him on the first day of your junior year of high school, your sixteen-year-old brain couldn’t fully comprehend your crush on him. He was the shy, scrawny new kid in your class, and no one paid mind to him except you. But that didn’t stop you from liking him. Despite his interest in collecting pokémon cards and his crooked glasses that were too big for his face, you were in love. 

You were like two peas in a pod that whole year, and the only time you and Wonwoo spent time apart was when he had to leave during summer break to visit family in Korea. 

When he returned for your senior year, you could barely recognize him. Suddenly the nerdy Wonwoo you knew was gone. His glasses complimented his face, his hair was styled differently, and most of all, he got hot. A lot of your classmates must’ve seemed to agree because now your best friend and the man you’re in love with gained attention from people who didn’t even bat an eyelash at him last year. 

It annoyed you to see all these people suddenly interested in him. You were angry that just because he grew a few inches and learned to do his hair didn’t mean he was that much different from how he was last year. 

Even though Wonwoo was in a relationship, he still stayed true to your friendship. He still hung out with you, ate lunch with you, you even came over on weekends to have dinner with his family. Day by day, your love for him strengthened, and you ignored that his attention had been divided between you and his girlfriend at the time. 

When their relationship hit three months, it seemed your friendship had come to an abrupt halt. He didn’t invite you for dinner as often, you two didn’t talk on the phone every other night. He started to invest more of his time into her until he decided she wasn’t worth his energy anymore. Then the calls would come, his contact name flashing across your phone screen to ask you for advice. 

“I feel like I need to break up with Haein,” his deep voice flowed through your phone speaker. A sigh left his lips as he faced the truth. 

Haein was Wonwoo’s first girlfriend. She was nice, almost too nice. Wonwoo definitely had a type for girls with a bubbly personality. Ones that were effortlessly beautiful, reminiscent of a freshly made porcelain doll. That was Haein to you, unblemished in every way possible. Everything that you weren’t.

You couldn’t bring yourself to hate her. She was too nice to hate, but your younger self was so angry at how much of Wonwoo's time she took up that you envied her. Seokmin once jokingly mentioned that you looked especially green when she was around, and you remember how quickly you checked your appearance on the nearest reflective surface because of what he had said in passing. You remember vividly how nervous his words made you, was it that obvious?

Wonwoo’s first time calling you about his breakup plans was a delightful surprise, and you were too in shock to sputter out a proper response.

“Oh. Why?” was all you could say, still stunned that after a week of no contact, this was the first thing he said. 

“‘Dunno, I just don’t like her anymore,” he admitted effortlessly. 

You didn’t know how to respond. Your heart was screaming at you to encourage him to break up with his girlfriend at the time, while your brain was telling you to think logically. 

“Well, if that’s what you think is right,” you mumbled, trying to hide the fact that you felt a sense of relief at Wonwoo potentially being single again. 

Others may have tried to rationalize with Wonwoo, but you didn’t care. You wanted your friendship with him to turn back to normal. Your adolescent brain ignored that it was wrong to encourage him, as long as he was fully yours again.

History repeated itself over and over, and the older you got, you learnt to not be so selfish with his attention. Mostly out of guilt for the person he was going to break up with, but also because you didn’t want Wonwoo to realize your true feelings. 

Although being in love with Wonwoo was brutal, you constantly wished that things were different between you two, but they weren’t. He’s never seen you as more than a friend, and as your friendship with him progressed, you had begun to learn to mask your romantic feelings for platonic ones. 

five. 

By the time you entered university, you had mastered the art of pretending. As if your feelings for Wonwoo didn’t exist. You are quite meticulous in ensuring that he never realizes that you are profoundly in love with him. The mere thought of him finding out how you truly felt frightened you. 

You’ve already envisioned countless scenarios on how it could go. The idea of being rejected by the one you love most. It would change everything about your friendship with him.  The look of pity in his eyes, the apologies that would spill out of his mouth. You can't bear even the thought of rejection. Not from him. 

Two voices are constantly at war inside your mind. Your brain, acting as the voice of reason, constantly reminds you that it’s better to preserve your friendship. To keep the dynamic you’ve always had with Wonwoo guarded where it could last, thrive. While your heart persuaded you with deluded, fake scenarios. 

‘What if he likes you back?’ 

‘You never know until you try.’ 

‘Take the risk or lose the chance.’ 

What if. 

Like a siren to a sailor, your heart sang with deep imagery. Filling your thoughts with illusions of you and Wonwoo finally together. But your mind doesn’t let you go without a fight. It knows that beyond the deep waters where your siren-voiced heart lies is nothing but a bottomless pit. 

The possibilities are endless, and you’d rather stay safely grounded in your boat of rationality. 

A notification brings you out of your thoughts. Although you already knew that it was Wonwoo, you scramble to pick up your phone. There’s excitement laced in your veins as you look down at the screen. 

7:06 p.m. [wons <3]: be there in 5. 

There was no reason for you to be so ecstatic but you couldn’t help it. He had already texted you prior, notifying you that he was leaving his place to come pick you up, and yet every time your phone buzzes, you still hope that it’s something completely different. But that was your heart talking; you knew that it wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. 

Everyone had planned to meet at Seokmin’s place today, just to have one last celebration before midterms began again. You had happily agreed, enthusiastic that you could spend more time with Wonwoo, although it wouldn’t be a one-on-one thing. You were more than elated to see him while also being able to hang out with the rest of your friends. 

Throwing your phone back on the bed, you change into an outfit that is both cute and comfortable. There wasn’t a reason to dress up when the vibe at Seokmin’s was just going to be sitting around his living room, drinking cocktails and eating pizza. 

Wonwoo texts you once more to let you know he’s outside, causing you to race down to meet him. A lump in your throat arises, as he comes into your field of vision, appreciating how breathtakingly handsome he is. 

The chilled breeze brushes through the strands of his hair, glasses perched on his tall nose. He looked amazing, just like he always had, but you never get bored of admiring him. Even if it’s just from afar. 

“Hi! Sorry if I kept you waiting,” your voice resounds into the night. 

“It's never a problem if it’s you,” he chuckles as you dawdle over to the passenger side of his car. 

Trying not to read too deep into his words, you snort at his cheesy line instead of giving a response. Watching Wonwoo move to the side as he opens the car door for you. His actions make you blush, and you know you’ll think about it for the rest of the night. 

“Are you ready to go?” he asks, smiling at you. 

The ride to Seokmin’s house is fairly quiet, the sounds of music filling the silence instead. Your thoughts are overflowing with scenarios once again, wondering how different the car ride would be if you and Wonwoo were in a relationship. His fingers would probably be laced with yours, or rubbing soothingly against your thigh while his other hand gripped the steering wheel. Planting kisses on your cheeks at every red light. It seemed like heaven on the other side. But you knew reality would crush your delusions soon enough. 

…

  The clock on Seokmin’s pale white wall is nearing midnight and you don’t want to be here anymore. Not when the only thing you could focus on was Wonwoo flirting with a girl whose name you didn’t catch. She’s Joshua’s childhood friend and he only brought her along because she’s visiting from out of town. Whoever she was, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to you was the fact that she was able to bring out Wonwoo’s deep laugh. The kind of laugh that only befalls upon your ears when he finds something genuinely funny.

The ugly swirl of jealousy sits in the pit of your stomach and you couldn't help but scoff at your wretched situation. It made you sick watching them, and you could throw up any minute now. At this point, you weren’t sure who to envy, Wonwoo or the girl he was flirting with. You find it unfair that he doesn’t realize how greatly he can impact your feelings. 

Just a few hours ago, you were in utter bliss. Sitting in the front seat of his car, listening to the music softly playing on the ride to Seokmin’s apartment. Making stupid jokes and pointing out the random sights that you had seen while driving down the bustling city streets. You envy how easy it is for Wonwoo to make all those feelings of delight vanish. And he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t know what he’s doing to you, and that’s what hurts the most. 

“You doing okay?” Seokmin comes up to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. 

“Huh? Oh. Yeah I’m okay,” you chuckle, but there’s nothing humorous about your laugh at all. 

His eyes soften, he knows that you’re not okay. Seokmin always knew. After all these years, he can tell when you’re trying to save face. There’s a lump in your throat, and if you didn’t have a drink to sip on to distract you, you probably would’ve gone to the bathroom to cry. 

“You wanna talk in my room?” he offers, and you’re grateful. 

Seokmin knew he had to get you somewhere other than the living room. You were practically torturing yourself, sitting on the couch and watching Wonwoo talk to everyone but you. 

Instead of agreeing vocally, you nod your head before standing up to follow Seokmin to his room. The door shuts softly, muffling the sounds of laughter and allowing your uneasiness to finally subside. 

As you sit on Seokmin’s bed, you feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks. It feels pathetic, crying over something so trivial. Why does it have to be you who feels this way? Why can’t you just be a normal friend and see Wonwoo in a platonic light? The whole world could turn upside and he’d be the first person you search for. 

Everything just seemed so unfair, how could you possibly be happy if your feelings for Wonwoo were constantly in the way of it all? It’s tiring, worrying about him, yearning for him. You could do so many other things with your time, and when you look toward the future, you know that you’ll regret how much of your life you wasted loving someone who doesn’t love you back. 

“It’s okay, just let it out,” Seokmin whispers in your ear, embracing you in a tight hug. 

Crying felt good. You rarely cry over your situation despite how upsetting it is. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to finally indulge in your sadness and let go of everything you were too afraid to say or feel.  

“I know it sucks right now, but honestly, it might be time to get over him,” Seokmin continues to comfort you while trying to help you face the reality of your situation. “You’re so hurt, and it’s taking a toll on you. Please, I can’t bear to see you so sad.” 

His words hit you hard because you know it's true. But all you can do is apologize. Saying sorry for feeling this way, even though it’s not your fault, you cannot control your feelings, you still apologize. To Seokmin, to your friends, but also yourself. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you hiccup, tears staining Seokmin’s white shirt. 

“Why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong,” he mutters, his large hand patting your head, trying to soothe your fit of emotions. 

“Because, if I was normal, you wouldn’t have to worry about me, about why I’m always upset, you and the others, my feelings are burdening all of you,” you continue to weep softly in his arms, gripping onto his shoulders as his hands encircle your waist. 

“Hey, look at me–” he grabs your face, gentle as a mouse, rubbing away the tears from your cheeks. “You are not a burden. We care, that’s why we worry, and I just want to be there for you.” 

“Thank you, Seokmin. I’m so happy that I have someone like you in my life,” you pull him into a hug again, knocking the air out of his chest, but he’s still somehow able to hug you even tighter. 

Seokmin is like your favourite childhood blanket, keeping you warm and away from everything that could possibly hurt you. He’s always willing to hear you rant about things that you know you could never tell Wonwoo. 

“I’m so tired, I’m tired of feeling like this,” you admit to him. 

Running his hands through your hair, he gives you a reassuring smile. 

“Maybe it’s time to distance yourself from him a bit, you two have been glued to the hip for so long. Maybe that distance can help organize your feelings better,” he mutters, catching the stray tears that pool at your chin, and wiping them away for you. 

“I want to feel better,” you agree with him, still trying to recover from how hard you were sobbing into his chest. 

“I care about you, okay? We all do. Wonwoo cares about you, too, but there’s a point where you’ll have to be okay with whatever outcome happens if you decide to tell him how you feel. Or you just have to find a way to get over him,” he speaks softly, trying not to crush your heart with reality, but you know he’s right. “In the Future, you will thank yourself for making whatever decision you have to make, but trust me, holding all these feelings in won’t do you any good.” He ends his pep talk there, and you sigh, trying to process everything he said. 

“Thank you, Minnie, I’m so thankful I have you,” you sniffled. 

“And I you.” 

…

Seokmin explained to Soonyoung and Jihoon that you needed to go home after your talk in his bedroom. They were more than happy to take you along with them before heading back to their place, not wanting to force you into a car with Wonwoo at the end of the night. 

“Of course, it’s really no trouble at all,” Soonyoung reassures you after you had asked about a million times if it was okay to ride home with them. 

The car ride is drastically different from the one you had taken on the way to Seokmin’s, Soonyoung being the number one reason why. He’s not the best at reading the room, although Jihoon is constantly telling him to shut up. He knows you are upset over something, but Soonyoung’s way of cheering you up is getting you to laugh. While Jihoon believed that you may want a more peaceful environment after everything that happened. 

As Jihoon drove, Soonyoung sang along with the lyrics of the current song playing. Loud enough for anyone outside the car to hear him. You could tell he was a bit tipsy after the few beers he had earlier, but you didn’t mind the noise. Jihoon begged to differ. 

“Soon, can you tone it down? Please. People are looking at us,” Jihoon grumbles, trying to focus on the road ahead. 

“But you love it when I sing,” Soonyoung whines, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“I do, but our friend has had a long night,” Jihoon counters. 

Soonyoung turns to face you from the passenger seat. “If you want me to be quiet, I will.” 

“No, it’s okay, I’m actually enjoying it, thank you very much,” you giggle, and that was all the confirmation he needed, going back to his antics. 

Jihoon groans as Soonyoung practically breaks out into full song and dance, causing you to sing along with him. This distraction from all the conflicting thoughts gives you a refuge from the war inside your mind.  

The whole way back to your place was filled with singing and laughter, allowing you to finally feel at ease for once. Albeit Jihoon pretended to act annoyed the whole time, you knew he secretly loved how Soonyoung tried to bring the mood back up to help you. 

Once you got home, you thanked the two before bidding them farewell. Apprehension flowed throughout you, and you didn't want to be alone with your thoughts after being around someone as cheerful as Soonyoung. But you didn’t know where else to go or what else to do.

Laying in your bed, you think about how today went from beginning to end, and you’re scared of what will happen in the future. Sighing to yourself, you allow yourself to at least get some rest instead of staying up all night thinking about the possibilities of tomorrow. Turning your phone on "do not disturb," the stillness in your apartment lulls you to sleep. 

1:09 a.m. [wons <3]: seokmin said u went home early? u ok? 

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?

chapter one. 

Wonwoo’s ride home was sombre, yet desolate. Your absence from his passenger seat irked him. Street lights whisk by his vision in a blur, but he’s too lost in his thoughts as he drives on autopilot, wondering why you went home so early. You didn’t even say goodbye. It’s the first time you went home from Seokmin’s place without him. 

By the time he got home, his curiosity had started to claw at him, but he didn’t want to be irrational and assume the worst. So he texted you, hoping that there would be an explanation awaiting him in the morning. 

Not a single notification from you came that very next morning. No matter how many times his phone went off, no matter how many notifications popped up from his screen. None of them were you. Morning turned to afternoon, and afternoon slowly turned into night. Still nothing. 

He feels dejected. Everything seemed to be going okay just last night. That was until you abruptly left without telling him you were going home. What changed? Why did it feel like there was a shift between you two? 

Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo. Most times, it’s him that’s doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the breakup and lose feelings first; every decision he made was made by him. He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling. 

Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least that’s what he forces himself to believe. That it’s not fair of you to ignore him when he’s worried about you, because he’s your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up at your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been. 

Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care. Because in his mind, you’re his best friend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesn’t even consider it a possibility. You were busy, that’s it. That has to be it. 

… 

Less than forty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence was perfectly normal, then maybe you would eventually end up answering him. 

12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?

Nothing. Not even a thumb’s up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing that’s so important that you couldn’t even open his message let alone read them? 

1:27 p.m.  [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didn’t give it to her though 😁

Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He can’t believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes it’ll be the text that finally gets you to respond. 

2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u.  [1 photo attachment] 

Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of what’s worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.

4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today? 

The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he has witnessed. 

4:30 p.m.  [wons <3]: saw u get into seokmin’s car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw. 

Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin, of all people, solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just can’t stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back. 

Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he could keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, he’s unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up. 

two, wonwoo’s summer before senior year. 

The school year flew by with the speed of light. And before Wonwoo knew it, he was home back in Korea for the summer. The dreaded fifteen-hour plane ride over was excruciating. There was an ache in his lower back, and his knees felt like they were being struck by a hammer with every step he took. But at least the worst part was over. 

Sixteen-year-old Wonwoo was quite naive, thinking that he’d be welcomed into his home country with loving arms. That hadn’t been the case at all, and for the two months that he spent in Changwon, he couldn’t help but count the days till he could come back home. Where you had been patiently waiting for him. 

He despised being away from you, and he had yearned for you every moment he was gone. With you by his side, Wonwoo had finally understood the true meaning of solace, a peace of mind that couldn’t be replicated. Not even the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown could outweigh the feeling of tranquillity that he got when he was with you.

Every year that Wonwoo was dragged back to Korea by his parents was excruciating. Especially because he had a certain distaste for his relatives. Maybe it was disrespectful to loathe them the way he did, but he couldn’t care less. Their scathing comments would flow out of their mouths just to pierce daggers of judgement into his back. To insult Wonwoo was second nature to his aunts, and he couldn’t do much but sit back and listen.  

Much to his dismay, his parents hadn’t even bothered to book an Airbnb for their stay, informing him and his brother that they would be staying with his aunt. He couldn’t stand his aunt Seo-Ah in particular, and he swore the feeling was mutual. Unsure of why he had to withstand her crude remarks in front of his family without much protest, he forced himself not to dish out rude rebuttals to everything she had to say. 

There was a time when Wonwoo tried to reason with himself on why his aunt was filled with so much bitterness, but he gave up on that long ago. He was about to be seventeen now, and he couldn’t bring himself to empathize with the older lady anymore. 

“Wonwoo! You’re all grown up now, and I can’t believe it,” Seo-Ah forced him into a bone-crushing hug as he tried his best not to push her off of him. She pulled back to take a closer look at him and he could already see the scrutinizing gleam in her eyes, “You know, you’re still so skinny for your age. Do your parents not feed you enough?” 

Wonwoo wanted to scoff at her, but he kept a neutral expression. 

“No they do, I don’t know maybe it’s my fast metabolism or something,” he refuted her claims. He couldn’t wait to get out of her sight. 

“You know, maybe you should start going to the gym, get some muscle on you or something,” she patted his lanky arm and laughed that dreadful laugh. The ones that have no real humour behind it, just to cover up the obvious dig she took at his appearance. 

“Yeah maybe,” he dismisses her to head into the house. Setting his luggage down to check whether or not you’ve texted him yet. 

It was about five in the evening in Changwon, but he knew you wouldn’t be asleep. Faintly recalling how you were planning to stay up late every night to watch BuzzFeed unsolved videos, or until your mom yelled at you to go to bed. 

[4:15 p.m. kst]  [you: i stayed up all night watching buzzfeed unsolved]  [you: im going crazy i keep getting paranoid to the point i’ve turned all my mirrors backwards]  [you: hope ur flight was ok tho!!! 🫶]

He chuckled to himself, remembering your wide eyes and elaborate plan to sneak snacks into your room in the early hours of the morning behind your parents’ backs. Wonwoo missed you, and your stupid obsession with horror podcasts and YouTube shows. He missed the way your smile would shine so bright as you talked about all the haunted places the hosts would visit. 

Wonwoo did not care for horror or anything scary, but if you were to ask him to stay up all night on Facetime binge-watching your little Buzzfeed videos, he would do so in a heartbeat. 

Two days down, about another 89 to go, Wonwoo thought to himself as he looked through your messages with him. You had already spammed the chat mercilessly about your first two days of summer break, and your intricate mission to stay up without accidentally falling asleep in the middle of it all. 

[6:00 p.m. kst] [1 photo attachment]  [you: currently trying to sneak snacks into my room without my mom knowing]  [you: u better not snitch 😾]  [you: its so boring w out u here btw SO COME BACK SOON PLSS]  [you: ok thats enuff…txt me when u land!]

Wonwoo really missed you. 

…

One more week and Wonwoo would finally get to see you again. The ability to talk to you in person, hug you, and spend time with you gave him something to look forward to, and thankfully, summer break went by fast because of it. 

He had spent most of his time in Korea eating at local food spots, going to the gym, and trying a lot of new things with his brother, Seongho, giving them time to bond before he went off to University again. Wonwoo had missed his brother dearly during the school year, but at least they were able to pass the time together during summer break. 

It was initially his brother’s convincing that got him to go to the gym for the very first time. The idea of going to a place with a lot of sweaty, adrenaline-filled people kind of frightened him, but the more he went, the more he started to like what he saw in the mirror. Wonwoo’s shoulders had broadened, and his lanky arms finally started to show signs of muscles. He was satisfied in knowing that all of his hard work, and Seongho’s encouragement had finally paid off. 

Seongho told him he looked a lot more carefree now that he wasn’t so worried about his appearance all the time. And it was then that Wonwoo realized that he wasn’t all that bad-looking, after all. 

Wonwoo had begun to take pride in his vanity. He searched for different ways to style his hair, bought glasses that better suited his face shape, and, most of all, did his best to act more confidently. The sudden change made him wonder how you would react. He had been anticipating your reaction, wanting to see the look on your face once he returned home. 

“You got it. Just one more rep, and we can switch,” Seongho encouraged Wonwoo as he tried to push the bar up from his chest. 

His muscles were aching in the most addictive and satisfying way. He almost wished he had started working out earlier because only good things seemed to have come ever since he stepped foot into the gym. 

“Okay! You’re done, that was good,” his older brother high-fived him, a proud smile dancing along his lips. 

“Thanks, but my arms feel like jelly now,” he huffed a chuckle before gulping down the contents of his water bottle. 

Seongho chuckled along with him before setting himself down on the workout bench. His actions faltered, and he slowly observed the mirror in front of him, raising his eyebrows in amusement. 

“Uh, don’t look now, but I think that girl is staring at you,” Seongho tilted his head in the girl’s direction and Wonwoo couldn’t be more confused. 

“Huh? Are you sure it's me they’re looking at and not you?” 

“I’m serious! You should go talk to her,” Seongho grinned, pushing his younger brother in the direction of the girl who was supposedly eyeing Wonwoo. 

“Hyung!” Wonwoo calls out but it falls on deaf ears as his older brother begins his bench presses. 

Wonwoo turns towards the girl in the most awkward way humanly possible. He was completely dumbfounded and not sure what to do in the situation he’d been put in. The girl who was staring at him waved flirtatiously, and before he could even think about his next move, his feet had begun to move on their own accord. 

“Hi, I saw you working out over there, are you new here?” she asked him, batting her eyelashes. 

“Uhm, I guess? I’m only here for the summer though,” he spoke with apprehension, because what the hell was he even supposed to say? 

“Oh! Me too. My name is Haein, by the way.” Haein’s smile reached her eyes as she giggled, and her hand extended to shake Wonwoo’s. 

Wonwoo’s actions were practically robotic, rubbing his sweaty palms on his gym shorts before taking her hand in his. He remembers thinking about how soft her hands were, and how pretty she looked with her hair tied up in a messy bun. 

“I’m Wonwoo.” 

“Wonwoo, hmm, that’s a cute name. But I think I would like it more in my contacts,” she flirted shamelessly, her fingers squeezing his sweaty bicep. 

Wonwoo’s mind short-circuited, and he took out his phone from his pocket so fast it almost slipped out of his grasp. Haein found it endearing though, and happily gave him her phone number. 

They talked for the rest of Wonwoo's time at the gym and promised to hang out more before they both went home at the end of the summer. 

To put it simply, Wonwoo was on cloud nine for the first time since he’s been here. Suddenly his aunt Seo-Ah’s words weren’t so hurtful, his confidence had skyrocketed, plus he had a beautiful girl to talk to for the rest of his vacation. 

By the end of summer, Wonwoo started to miss you less and less. Even though he still saw you as his best friend, he began to find peace in other things, like the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown. Finally, for the first time in his life, Wonwoo felt serene, and that made him a little more whole than he was when he first landed in Changwon. 

…

The after-effects of Wonwoo’s surprisingly pleasant summer vacation hadn’t worn off just yet. The gift of Haein appearing in his life seemed to just keep on giving. Not only did she live overseas, she had told him that she was actually from the same city as him. It was a little hard to believe at first as if he was the main character in a cheesy rom-com, but he couldn’t find it in him to complain. Haein made him feel wanted, excited, and cared for. 

Wonwoo wasn’t entirely devoid of those feelings, especially with you as his best friend, but it was different coming from Haein. Every time he saw her, he felt like he was going to throw up, in a good way of course, but she also boosted his confidence. He liked that she made him feel like he was a man worth depending on. 

Haein was his first real relationship, and although he was still young, he could see himself being with her for a long time. 

…

Quite like the seasons, Wonwoo’s feelings for Haein changed drastically by the time school was back in session. Although he and Haein lived in the same city, there was a lot more than just distance that separated them. 

Six months into their relationship, Wonwoo began to doubt himself. He was less eager to meet her or even text her. He could only blame himself for how things turned out with Haein. Despite his adolescence, he believed he loved her; he just got tired and disinterested. 

On a subconscious level, Wonwoo could not stop comparing Haein to you, and as fucked up as that was, it was completely out of his control. Why didn’t Haein ever want to talk about what Wonwoo was interested in? Why did she seem bored out of her mind when he would delve into his theories about his favourite shows? Or anything about himself and what he liked. As though she didn’t see him for the Wonwoo he was, the personality he had behind his looks. 

“It all makes sense now! Eren had Zeke fooled!” Wonwoo couldn’t contain his excitement about the newest episode, but Haein didn’t seem interested in hearing her boyfriend geek out. 

“I'm sorry babe, but I gave up after the first episode,” Haein sighed into the phone, and if Wonwoo could guess, she was probably picking at her cuticles out of boredom. “I just didn’t get anything that was happening.” 

“Wait, really?” He was a little offended, how could she not be obsessing over the beautiful intricacies of his favourite anime? Wonwoo didn’t understand. 

He didn’t understand because when he introduced you to the show, you texted him the next day saying you were caught up to where he had left off. It amazed Wonwoo how fast you were at binge-watching shows, especially because he had told you about it on a weekday. 

You came into school the morning after with dark circles under your eyes, but even with that tired look on your face, you ran up to him with so much eagerness while thanking him for urging you to watch his favourite show. You two were obsessed and never missed out on watching the weekly episodes together.  It had become you and Wonwoo’s thing, and even though he wanted Haein to join in on the fun, he found himself more entertained by your theories than by talking on the phone with his girlfriend. 

It dawned on him that he wished that Haein acted a little more like you. And it made him feel guilty. He knew he should’ve loved Haein no matter her interests, but he wanted someone who could understand his nerdy side. And that was only something that you were able to do. 

“Honestly, I’m really tired, I’m gonna go to bed now okay?” Haein’s voice brought Wonwoo out of his thoughts. 

“Oh okay. Night.” He said before ending the call so quickly that Haein’s ‘I love you’ was cut off mid-sentence. 

Haein probably had thought he had forgotten, but Wonwoo just didn’t want to say those words if he didn’t mean it. He had grown annoyed, and a little bored of practically talking to a wall all night.  

Comparable to the light switching off in his bedroom, he decided to do the same thing with Haein. He pushed his guilt aside and decided it was probably best to leave Haein and Changwon in the past. The memories of his last week of summer with her would become something he would look back on in the future and smile. But he didn’t want to pretend any longer, it would’ve just hurt her more if he stayed, he couldn’t help that he fell out of love with her. The least he could do was not lead her on. 

Wonwoo’s relationship with Haein was merely a catalyst and a peek into what the rest of his relationships were going to look like in adulthood. He was never able to comprehend why he couldn’t keep feelings for anyone after the six-month mark, and it almost frustrated him. Something was missing in every single relationship he had been in, and he wasn’t sure what that was. But he was determined to find an answer. 

three, present time.

The answer was you. But of course, Wonwoo didn’t know that. 

“Are you gonna keep checking your phone every five minutes or are you gonna do your homework?” Mingyu lectures him. 

The two were studying in the library before their stats midterm, but Wonwoo’s mind couldn’t help but wonder. He hasn’t been acting like himself since the night of Seokmin’s party. 

“Oh, right.” Wonwoo clears his throat, putting his phone face down on the table. 

Wonwoo drags his palms against his face, trying to not let sleep overtake him. It is not his fault that every time he tries to close his eyes, your face comes into his mind. The memory of you smiling with Seokmin made his insides twist. He hasn’t seen you smile that hard in a while, and he almost misses how your eyes crinkle whenever you do so. You were practically haunting him and he had no idea how to make it stop. 

“Not to be rude, but you’ve been looking like shit lately. What’s wrong?” Mingyu questions him with furrowed eyebrows. 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his friend, he didn’t have to be insulted to know how crappy he looked, but Mingyu seemed to only be telling the truth. Wonwoo did look and feel like shit. With the amount of near run-ins he’s had with you and Seokmin on campus, he’s begun to sense that it’s some sort of karma. Whatever that karma may be for, he fully believes that it’s completely unwarranted. 

Forcing a hand through his dark locks, Wonwoo contemplates whether or not he should just go up to you in person and demand answers. It’s uncommon for the two of you to fight, or ignore each other for that matter. But he can’t help but presume that if he were to confront you about your silence, there would be no rightful explanation. Or at least not the explanation that he wants from you. 

Every time he even fathoms the thought of barging into your apartment and asking what the hell is wrong, there’s a lingering nervousness that he wishes would dissipate, leading him to lay awake with his thoughts for hours on end. 

“Thanks for that, asshole, I just haven’t been getting much sleep,” Wonwoo huffs. 

“Okay, obviously. You practically look like a zombie with the way you’ve been moping around. What has been keeping you up?” Mingyu presses. 

It’s not every day that Wonwoo indulges in his problems with Mingyu, that’s what you were for. However, he can’t talk about his problems about you, to you, so he’ll have to settle for the next best thing.  

“Y/N has been ignoring me since the night we all hung out at Seokmin’s,” Wonwoo confesses, and it feels nice. 

For the past two weeks, he’s been keeping his frustrations to himself, and now that he can freely speak about it lifts the weight off his chest. 

Mingyu snorts, obviously finding his friend’s situation humorous. Wonwoo sneers at Mingyu’s reaction, clearly not finding anything about you ignoring him funny. 

“Serves you right, you’re a dick to her, man.” Mingyu shrugs without any remorse to spare. 

“What?” Wonwoo sputters, since when was he a dick to you? His best friend? 

“How blind are you? You have glasses and everything but you can’t see how mean you are to her sometimes? Really?” Mingyu almost sounds offended on your behalf as he stares at Wonwoo with an incredulous expression. 

“I am not a dick to her. She would definitely tell me if I’ve ever said something to hurt her feelings,” Wonwoo defends himself. 

Attempting to rack his brain of all your moments together, he can’t seem to pick out a memory where he has been especially rude to you. Of course, you two teased each other from time to time, but he wasn’t a complete asshole. He knew when to not take a joke too far or purposely try to upset you. 

“You’re a dumbass.” Mingyu lets out a frustrated sigh which only aggravates Wonwoo even more. 

“Could you stop with the insults for one second and just tell me what’s going on?” 

Shutting his laptop, Mingyu’s posture becomes serious, a deviation from his usual carefree and smiley self. He cares about you just as much as the next person, so if he had to reality-check his friend, then so be it. 

“She cares about you a lot. And you treat her like shit. It’s not about what you’ve said to her, it’s your actions. Ever since we were in high school all you’ve done is use her to solve your problems. I can’t even blame her for wanting to cut you off. I don’t know what happened at Seokmin’s place for her to realize that, but you don’t deserve her,” Mingyu confesses. 

Soaking up each word that left Mingyu’s mouth, Wonwoo sat in a pool of perplexity. There are so many questions flying through his mind, yet he can’t seem to utter a single word. Is that really how everyone perceives his friendship with you? 

Wonwoo is going to throw up. There's a tightness in his chest and a burning sensation behind his eyes. He wants nothing more than to hear all of this coming from you, not Mingyu. The frustration of wanting to talk to you about this is taking a toll on him, he doesn’t want to believe that Mingyu is telling the truth. 

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that Mingyu gets to know these things about you while Wonwoo is just left in the dark. Did he make you feel like you couldn’t tell him anything? 

Ever since Wonwoo met you, it was evident that he can be quite merciless when it comes to his relationships, but that’s romantic, not platonic. Wonwoo was convinced that he treated you equally because that’s how it's supposed to be. 

Hearing Mingyu talk about his friendship with you in that way caused Wonwoo’s whole world to crash down. And the only thing he can do in moments like these is seek out your comfort, except he can’t anymore. Not only has he been a terrible friend without realizing it, but he’s pushed you so far to the brink that you’d rather ignore him than attempt to hash out what’s been troubling you.

“I-I didn’t know that's how you guys saw our friendship,” Wonwoo falters, clearly taken aback, and still attempting to fully comprehend what’s been said to him. 

“It’s not that we see your friendship with her that way, it is that way. If I was her, I would’ve cut you off a long time ago.” 

“Well, thanks, Gyu. I feel like this could’ve been said before she started ignoring me,” Wonwoo huffs, trying to come up with the words to explain his side.

“It was kinda obvious, man,” Mingyu shrugs. 

“Was it, though? If I had known, I would’ve at least tried to be better,” Wonwoo attests, tired of feeling like the bad guy. 

“How about you just talk to her about it instead of sulking,” Mingyu suggests. 

Desperation hijacked his rational thinking, making Mingyu’s advice sound plausible. Talking to you seemed out of the equation since you started ignoring him; he feared you wouldn’t even answer if he tried to call or show up at your door. But he can’t go on like this, especially now that he knows there is more to your friendship than he had initially thought. 

four. 

For the first time in Wonwoo’s life, he’s unsure about what decision to make. Although he wants nothing more than to knock on your door, his feet stop him from even entering your building. So instead of mucking up the courage to talk to you face to face, he waits inside his car. Without a solid plan, he continues to sit there, biding his time. 

Never has he acted so pathetic in his life, not even for the sake of his relationships. He knows that nothing will come from sitting there, just watching, but before he can even comprehend what he is doing and where he is going, he is already across the street from your place. 

Gripping on the leather of his steering wheel, he just couldn’t help himself. He can’t help but watch your silhouette from your window. The curtains are drawn, but there are glimpses of you walking around. He’s such a fucking loser. What type of person has Wonwoo become that he resorts to stalking you from the front of your building? 

After all that Mingyu has enlightened him on, Wonwoo’s attitude has become less angry and more apologetic. There was a line he pondered crossing, and it practically mocked him. Stepping over that line would mean getting answers from you, demanding to be brought into the light that you had snuffed out from under him. But his uncertainty of the outcome outweighed his decision to do so.

That same apologetic attitude died a fiery death after watching Seokmin leave your apartment. There you were in all your glory, the tiny sleep set clinging onto your body as the wind forced its way into the door of your building. Then there was Seokmin, grinning like a fucking idiot as he waved goodbye. 

“Shit!” Wonwoo grunts as he ducks down, not wanting to blow his cover. His car was visible from where the two of you stood, hoping that you weren’t able to recognize it in the dead of night.  

Boring holes into the back of Seokmin’s head, Wonwoo's guilt diminished, floating away with the cold night breeze. You were fine, and he should’ve known that the root of all his problems started with the name Lee Seokmin. 

The shape of your figure had faded into the confines of your building. Yet Wonwoo can still make out your body through the glass window of your door. He can’t help but gawk at your skimpy attire, your ass practically on display for the whole world to see. The deathly twist in his gut intensifies the more he ponders on what may have happened during Seokmin’s visit. Wonwoo desperately wants to stop thinking about the possibilities, especially because your lack of clothing only fueled that inferno inside his mind. 

He’s never been more annoyed at Seokmin in his entire life, not until today. 

Wonwoo allowed himself to ignore the signs, but only for a moment. But this, this he can’t ignore. Not after what he witnessed. He allowed himself to stay ignorant when it came to your silence because he had been so naive to think that it was your decision. Now that he knows Seokmin had somehow weaselled his way closer to you, Wonwoo had to make sure this plan of his didn’t go on any longer. 

…

There is a heat inside Wonwoo that, for some reason, he cannot extinguish. The curve and outlines of your body burn in the back of his retinas. No matter how many times he’s tried to put himself to sleep, the image of you is clear as day in his mind.  Sparks crawl their way up his spine, and he desperately wishes that it would just go away. 

There’s a point where Wonwoo gave up on trying to sleep altogether. Thoughts of you, your body, and the oh-so-painful reminder that you’re still ignoring him. How can he sleep with everything going on? What made things worse, was the fact that the one person he wanted to call most likely wouldn’t pick up.

Wonwoo wasn’t the type of person to let his emotions get the better of him, but this abrupt rift that has been torn between you two has him acting out in ways he’s never acted before. 

The urge to grab his phone, to text you, to give it one more try, grows perpetually every second he lies awake. 

One more time. One more attempt. What does he have to lose? 

Wonwoo stands up, pacing around nonsensically, trying to think of what to say. For all he knows, you may not even answer, but there is the urge to hear your voice one more time and see your name pop up on his screen. Wonwoo yearns for you so much so that it supersedes any part of common sense he has left in him. 

[12:52 a.m.]  [wons <3: darling. can we talk? please?]  [not delivered] 

The silence within the four walls of Wonwoo’s bedroom is harrowing. Out of all the outcomes he had considered before he texted you, the outcome of you blocking him was not even on the list. 

Before jumping to some sort of conclusion, Wonwoo’s finger hovers over the call button with skepticism. If you don’t pick up, then that’s it. That would be the definitive answer to all his qualms. 

“The number you have called is not available, please leave a message at the tone,” an automated voice affirmed his suspicions. 

The notification is gut-wrenching, but he can’t just sit here and pretend like it’s okay for you to do this. To decide without any of his input. What kind of friend were you to just drop him like he was nothing but an old toy? How unfair did you have to be to not even try to talk it out before you completely cut him off? 

five. 

Pacing outside the door of your apartment, Wonwoo hasn’t been this nervous in years. He has always been so sure of himself, but it’s almost two in the morning and he’s still continuing to weigh his options. 

It’s either you’ll let him in, and talk for the first time in almost two weeks, or you’ll kick him out before he can step a foot past the door. Desperately, he desires that it be the first option. Losing you over this would break him, and not in the way you would expect. 

He’s already lost his mind. This shouldn’t be the way you two break it off. It won’t be the way you two break it off. Not if Wonwoo has a say in the situation. 

Sweaty palms and white knuckles rasp against the dark oak that barricades himself from you. There’s nothing that Wonwoo wants more than to see your face glowing in front of him. And before he can even get a word out to you, the door whips open. The person on the other side is someone Wonwoo is starting to get really sick of seeing. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Both Wonwoo and Seokmin speak in unison. 

Scoffing, Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his so-called friend, “I think I should be asking you that. You clearly don’t live here.” 

“Minnie? Is someone at the door?” your voice is as sweet as a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day. 

Minnie. Wonwoo almost threw up in his mouth. 

Minnie. The nickname is parallel to nails scraping against a chalkboard. 

“Yeah! Your neighbour just needed to borrow something,” Seokmin goads through a sickly sweet smile, eyes never leaving Wonwoo’s. Without as much as a word of mockery, Seokmin’s expression had said more than his words ever could have. 

Despite his soft demeanour, Wonwoo knew there was something vile hiding under Seokmin’s thick skin. 

A rebuttal to his deception is on the tip of Wonwoo’s tongue, but your melodic voice echoes throughout your home once more. The refute dies within his throat, and he hopes you will come out and see what your “neighbour” is looking for. 

“Okay!” is the only response you give out. The reverberation of the water hitting the shower tiles causes Wonwoo’s stomach to practically lurch out his abdomen. 

“Whatever you’re doing, she’s not gonna fall for it,” Wonwoo jeered, staring at Seokmin with looks that should kill, if he could. 

Seokmin chuckles bitterly, “She already has.” 

There was no need for Wonwoo to put two and two together; he already knew what Seokmin was alluding to. It left a dreadful taste in his mouth. 

Puffing out his chest, Wonwoo takes a step closer towards the man he once considered a close friend. Sizing him up, he knew that Seokmin was the reason for the wedge in your friendship. And Wonwoo had no problem treating him as such. 

“You’re fucking sick, you know that?” Wonwoo practically spits in his face. 

“I could say the same thing for you,” Seokmin mutters, unperturbed, “I didn’t have to do anything you know? Just a little push and she fell into my lap, voluntarily.” 

“I’m not just going to let you get away with something like this. She’s my best friend.” 

“I think the correct tense is was. She was your best friend,” Seokmin taunted. 

He was wrong about Seokmin. Even though he had known about his friend's crush on you for years, Wonwoo didn’t expect the lengths Seokmin would go to in order to cut him out of the picture. 

Before a breath could even escape his lips, Seokmin cuts him off, “I think it’s time for you to leave. She doesn’t want to see you.”

The last few words that he heard come out of Seokmin’s mouth nearly fell on deaf ears. It was practically a whisper, laced with enough malice to almost kill the fighting spirit inside him. Almost. 

“By the way, don’t text her anymore. I’ve made sure she won’t get any more notifications from you.” 

The realization had struck Wonwoo hard. He knew you well enough that you wouldn’t just block him so carelessly, without a word no less. Yet he was no match for Seokmin, not after the fact that you allowed him into your home, your heart, so willingly. 

…

Lying in wait, Wonwoo observes the door of your building once more. The distinct difference this time was that Wonwoo had no guilt left in him to care. Whether you see him or his car across the street didn’t matter to him anymore. The only thing Wonwoo wanted to make sure of was whether or not Seokmin would be leaving your place. 

After what had felt like hours, he watched the same scene from last night unfold in front of him once more. The abhorrent hug goodbye that is exchanged between you and Seokmin is nothing but a cue for Wonwoo to make his move.

With as much grace as a bull in a china shop, he slams the car door shut, not even bothering to lock it before he stalks his way to your apartment. The anticipation caused the hairs on his neck to stand straight up. As he presses the button to your floor, he can only deliberate whether any of Seokmin’s words hold any truth behind them.

 Certainly not, right? Not after all the years you spent together. His friendship with you couldn’t end on this vague note. You were always the sentimental type, holding onto trinkets, memories, and even people for far too long. It should be the same with Wonwoo; he believed it would be the same. 

If there is a chance, you should allow him to talk and voice his opinion. No, Wonwoo will voice his opinion; there has never been a time when you haven’t let him speak. 

As the elevator ascends to your floor, anxiety begins to weigh down his shoulders. The feeling is atypical and Wonwoo hates how his throat constricts. He hates how his clothes feel too tight and stuffy despite his casual attire. Is this how it feels? To actually care about someone and whether their decisions might affect him later on? 

Footsteps echo within the hallway, and with each step he takes, the illusion steadily becomes more vivid. Your front door almost looks like it’ll take a mile before Wonwoo can reach it, rather than a few feet away. 

After what felt like years, Wonwoo stands before the entrance of your home once more. The foreboding tension won’t vanish and it’s starting to make him itch. Without another thought, Wonwoo forces himself to knock on the door knowing it’ll be you who answers this time, not Seokmin. 

“Minnie? Did you leave something agai—,” Abrupt silence engulfs your words, leaving nothing but an echo to resonate within the expanse of your long hallway.

“Wonwoo…” your voice falters, like you genuinely didn’t expect to see him, let alone have him standing outside your door. 

“Did you fuck him?” Wonwoo cuts to the chase, not leaving any room for you to ask questions. 

His blunt words caused a frown to grace your soft pink lips, and Wonwoo almost felt bad for being so frank. But he doesn’t have time to beg for your forgiveness, the anger surmounting to nothing but harsh words and a push past you and into your home. 

“Did you fuck him? Yes or no?”  Wonwoo continues to press you for answers, agitated that you have the audacity to stand there dumbfounded. As if you don’t know who he's talking about. “C’mon, you know who I’m talking about,” he can almost laugh at the situation in front of him. 

How is it that all the rage he built up for Seokmin is being taken out on you? Wonwoo had no clue, but the thought of his friend-now-enemy defiling you, tasting you, while Wonwoo desperately waited for your call caused him to direct all his anger to you. Perhaps it’s undeserving to do so, but Wonwoo’s frustration spoke for him before his brain could even register what he was saying. 

“The past two weeks you’ve been ignoring me, spending your time with him, do you know where his true intentions lie?” Wonwoo continues to rant with unpreparedness. 

He didn’t plan what he was going to say because there was a moment of doubt, he had expected you to open the door just to slam it right back in his face. The look you gave him almost brought him to his knees. Your doe-eyed expression could’ve broken down every wall he’s built if only he hadn’t let his anger proceed him. 

Wonwoo should’ve cried, to plead for you to take him back. To go back to the way things were. He knew he fucked up the moment he uttered a single word. The hurt flashed across your face as though Wonwoo turned your world upside down. 

“Seokmin doesn’t care about you, and I’ll tell you that now because you need to hear it. He just wants to fuck you! And you just gave that to him?” He can’t stop talking. 

“Stop. Just stop fucking talking Wonwoo. Do you hear yourself right now?” You cut off his rant. “Out of all people, who gave you the right to tell me who I can and cannot fuck? Especially knowing the type of person that you are. It doesn’t matter if Seokmin and I had sex. What matters is the fact that you think you can barge in here at two-thirty in the morning interrogating me over a situation that doesn’t involve you.” 

“No. I’m just trying to help you. Seokmin isn’t the person that you think he is,” Wonwoo seethes, annoyed at how you’re twisting his words. 

The bile in his throat rose further, as you stood before him like he had just kicked your dog. Wonwoo’s extremely aware of the hole he had dug for himself, but he couldn’t stop. His urge to self-sabotage overrides his common sense. 

“That is exactly what we’re not going to do right now. Seokmin has been a better friend to me than you have been in all the years we’ve known each other. I have been by your side for years, bending over backwards. I was at your beck and call and I’m tired. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and warn myself about you. I fell in love with my best friend, and the worst part was that you didn’t care enough to notice. 

“I gave up so much for you, Wonwoo. I lost myself trying to please you. But I give up. I was drowning in my love for you. It consumed every part of me to the point I couldn’t even come up for air. And I’m just sick of it. I know there’s a part of you that cares about me too, but it’ll never be equal. I’ll always love you more than you love me, and I don’t want to feel this way anymore.” 

“What hurts me the most, is that you thought it would be okay to accuse me of things I didn’t even do. I did not sleep with Seokmin, but why is that what you care about?  He respects me and just wants to be there for me. And that’s a lot more than I could ever say about you.” 

Your voice was terrifyingly calm, with neither a lilt nor a hiccup during your speech. The heft of your declaration crashed back down onto Wonwoo, leaving him at a loss for words. 

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing to come out of his mouth after a long pause. 

“Please. It’s late, you should go home,” you sigh, but Wonwoo couldn’t move an inch. He refused. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats himself, looking into your eyes, searching for the look of endearment you had always given him. 

“Wonwoo…” there it is. Your voice had broken for the first time since Wonwoo stepped foot in the place. 

“Please. I’m so fucking sorry. For getting angry, for doubting you, for not realizing how badly you were hurting,” Wonwoo resorted to pleading. 

A look of desperation mixed with agony was the only thing you could exchange for his apologies.

The stare of grief you had given him caused a shooting pain to swell throughout his limbs. The one that begins at his fingertips, creeping up to tug at the strings that held his heart together. He wanted this nightmare to end, and he was sure you did too. 

“It’s time for you to go. I’m tired, Wonwoo.”  A single tear slips and trickles down your cheek. 

He regrets not wiping it away for you at that moment. It was the first time he had been so unsure of his actions. So, instead, he walked out of your apartment, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of his cologne and a piece of his heart. 

Wonwoo's world was crumbling underneath him, and there was only one person he refused to let go of. He should’ve known.

He should’ve known that you were in front of him this whole damn time.

end of act one.

⊹ a/n: if you liked this story pls dont be afraid to let me know thru a reblog, comment or ask! also a big ty to my beshies forever @vapidlynn and @bunnyjjongie who i've texted multiple times in the wee hours of the morning for reassurance abt this thing hehe.

[hyperbali]

If you're a Solavellan do not click here lmao

So I've seen that one post going around that's like "people who are shipping Rook and Solas are missing the point, they don't have a deeper connection than he had with Lavellan, Lavellan knew the real Solas"

And I have never seen such obvious cope in my life lmao

Fact of the matter is that they are both a blip in his existence. Solas knew Lavellan for 1-2 years, of course he's going to be more fixated on the romantic/platonic/situationship/whatever that lasted for millennia and literally broke the world, especially when the aftermath is that he feels like he's on such a different level than everyone left that they are pretty much Tranquil to him! This is a thought that he specifically expressed!

And claiming that Wisdom is the real Solas and Pride is not... also misses the point. Solas is Wisdom is Pride. Solas means Pride. At no point in his interactions with either the Inquisitor or Rook is he ever not lying, even just by omission. Neither of them see who or what he is as a whole, both are always operating at a disadvantage based on how much knowledge he's willing to give, and both have the opportunity to genuinely earn his respect.

As genuinely as Solas can get, at any rate.

Bearing that in mind, his chemistry with Rook compared to Lavellan is like a bonfire to a fireplace, in my opinion (bear that in mind oml). Even back in the day, I wanted the opportunity for a rivalmance with him so bad. I wanted to be able to call him out on his shit, to debate with his ideas, to meet him on a level that he was fully unexpecting and he hates that he loves it. Actively HATES it, not just that it makes him sad.

As it is, this "and so the wolf fell in love with the halla" shit is so cringy. Not at all helped by the fact that a romancing Lavellan apparently pined for him for a decade, couldn't do a damn thing to change his mind in the end, and willingly cuts herself off from her life, family, and friends to be a simpering, lovesick sycophant for the rest of her days. Because the Veil is STILL up. She IS dying in a few decades. And all of it will have been pointless.

Canon is a mess, I'm twisting it in other ways regardless, etc. etc. MY POINT IS

Shipping him with another character is not going to somehow make your ship invalid*. You can still make your favourite dolls kiss how you like. Relax about it.

(That last bit is not derogatory, as I am also proudly clanging my dolls together as usual. Just! Relax!! We are all in hell!!!)

*my 'ship and let ship' mantra has an exception and that exception is neve/lucanis. i'm sorry but it was the dumbest possible pairing for either of them and bioware should have let both of their nonromanced pairings be queer

[happylittledrabbles]

Please, Daddy

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Nanami Kento

Character Count: ~8,500K

Rating: Explicit, 18+

AO3

It was a lazy spring afternoon, one that mimicked the dead of summer with its humidity and heat. All the windows were open, but that did nothing to abate the torturous conditions inside the classroom. The curtains blowing offered a promise of some respite, but the wind was just as hot and provided no relief from the blazing temperatures.

Nobara held a small fan to her face while Megumi patted his forehead with a handkerchief, neither of which helped their fatigue.

“This sucks!” Yuji groaned, kicking his feet onto the desk and leaning his chair back.

“You’re going to fall over,” Megumi said, to which Yuji rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, if I was an idiot, maybe,” he retorted. Nobara stuck out her foot and tapped the leg of the chair, giving it that last push it needed to send Yuji toppling backwards onto the floor.

“Oops,” was all Nobara had to say as she watched her friend groan and wriggle around on the floor in pain.

“Kugisaki, you asshole!” he shouted. “As if this day couldn’t get any worse.”

Nobara sighed and got out of her seat, walking over to Yuji and kneeling. She placed a finger on her chin in thought before brightening, her grin catching Yuji off guard. “I know what’ll make you feel better. Let’s gossip about our teachers.”

The three of them huddled in a circle on the floor with Nobara going first.

“Kusakabe,” she offered, with the boys looking up to the ceiling in thought.

“I think he has boner problems,” Yuji said, making Nobara and Megumi wince in disgust. But the more they thought about it, the more it made sense.

“Do you think he takes pills for it?” Megumi asked, but Nobara shook her head.

“I think he’s too ashamed. And then he cries whenever he does it because he can’t get it up, and the woman has to comfort him,” she said, although she quickly regretted it as they all cringed at the image.

“Oh, man, let’s move on,” Megumi said, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I’ll be able to look at him the same anymore.”

“Let’s do Gojo,” Nobara replied excitedly, to which Megumi swiftly shook his head.

“That’s our main teacher! We have to look at him every day—we can’t do him,” Megumi objected, although it was only half the truth. He already saw Satoru as a father figure, as much as he hated admitting that to himself. He didn’t want to discuss his sex life.

“I think Gojo does hard drugs,” Yuji said, ignoring Megumi’s outburst. “Like, cocaine and stuff. It gets him really wired to do it.”

“Oh, gross,” Megumi whined as he buried his face in his hands.

“What’s gross?”

Speak of the devil. The trio’s heads snapped up as the very man they were gossiping about strode into the classroom, a stack of papers and folders in one hand and a mug that read ‘#1 Teacher’ in the other. He set down his things and placed his hands on his hips as he stared at his students, who were gawking at him as if a curse was eating his face off.

“Hello? Earth to idiots?” he said, snapping in the air to get their attention.

Nobara, ever the quick-witted girl, looked between Megumi and Yuji’s shocked faces and smirked to herself. She had thought of an excuse the second she heard her teacher’s voice, but she liked the idea of messing with all of them better. She cleared her throat and said, “We were gossiping about our teachers.”

“Kugisaki!” Megumi and Yuji’s voices overlapped as they exclaimed in horror, turning their irritation onto her.

However, Satoru wasn’t surprised in the slightest. In fact, he rushed over to the trio and grabbed a chair, turning it backward to sit on it and place his arms on the back of the chair, leaning forward in intrigue. “Oh? One of my favorite conversation topics. Go ahead, shoot. What’d you guys say about me?”

Megumi and Yuji’s faces then morphed into genuine interest as to what Nobara had planned. How was she going to get out of the hole she dug herself?

By answering honestly, of course.

“We said you do hard drugs to do it,” she said matter-of-factly. “Like coke. That really gets you going.”

Satoru stared for a moment, shell-shocked, before dissolving into laughter. He slapped his thigh and hung his head over the chair, the trio laughing along nervously at his strange reaction. Once he finally got ahold of himself, Satoru looked back up and inhaled sharply. “Good guess. What about Nanami?”

“Confirm nor deny. Smart,” Nobara remarked, high-giving her teacher. The boys were less than enthused. However, once she processed Nanami’s name, she barked out a laugh. “Nanami Kento? That guy’s a virgin, one hundred percent.”

“Kugisaki, don’t be mean,” Megumi chastised, but he was the sole objection on that one. Yuji and Nobara fell into bouts of laughter while nodding.

“You’re so right,” Yuji said. “How old is he, forty? No way some straight like him gets anything. Can you imagine him flirting?”

“He’s twenty-seven, and no,” Megumi said with a sigh. He knew he was giving in, but it was true: Nanami didn’t seem to have one romantic bone in his body. He couldn’t even picture him with a woman on his arm—the sight would probably send the three of them into anaphylactic shock.

He watched Nobara and Yuji laughing together before he turned his attention to Satoru, who was staring down at them with an unreadable expression. “You’re awfully quiet, Gojo-sensei. Wouldn’t you know better than all of us about him?”

Satoru choked on his spit at that, coughing into his fist as a prickly blush climbed up his neck and blotched his cheeks. “W-what? Why would you think that? I don’t know Nanami at all like that.”

“You’re both teachers,” Yuji pointed out with a shrug. “Wouldn’t you guys talk in the teacher’s lounge or something?”

Oh, Satoru thought with a sigh of relief. They meant it like that. He visibly relaxed, his shoulders dropping as he played with the bottom of his blindfold. “He’s never mentioned a girlfriend. Or any romantic interest, for that matter. No matter how much I’ve tried seducing him!”

Satoru whined to punctuate the fact that it was a joke to his students, who laughed and pulled disgusted faces at the thought of their beloved teachers kissing. However, Satoru wasn’t telling a joke. He had genuinely tried seducing Nanami on multiple occasions, having had a crush on him since Nanami called him up about becoming a jujutsu sorcerer again and he got to see just how much the blond had grown since they were in school together. The scrawny teen with a terrible haircut he had once known had grown into a muscled, attractive, and stoic man who made people think sinful thoughts just by looking at him.

Satoru could barely believe his eyes, although his pounding heart gave away just what he suspected he was feeling: arousal. He hadn’t felt that sensation in a long time, despite what his students—or anybody, really—thought. Nanami had brought it out of him, and the more he rejected Satoru and treated him terribly, the more Satoru wanted him. Frankly, it turned him on, just how respectable and stable Nanami was. A salaryman who took care of himself, who read and exercised and enjoyed the small things in life. Additionally, the sincere concern he had for his students—for any child—made Satoru want to raise a family with him, a thought he’d never had with anybody, ever.

Nanami was perfect partner material on top of being incredibly sexy. He was perfect. Except for the fact that he hated Satoru’s guts.

“Okay, okay, so Nanami,” Nobara said, pursing her lips together pensively. “I think…he definitely has a hidden kink even though he’s a virgin.”

“I’m going to throw something out there,” Yuji said conspiratorially. “I think he has a daddy kink.”

Satoru’s previous melancholic expression morphed into intense curiosity. He needed all the help he could get, as evidenced by the fact that he was secretly soliciting his students’ help with hopefully romancing Nanami successfully. “You think so? Like, calling people daddy? Or being called that?”

“Being called,” Yuji replied. “No way that guy gives into anybody. He’s as tightly wound as a stretched rubber band. He hates his job, hates being a jujutsu sorcerer, and is a virgin on top of all of that. He’s going to snap at any time.”

The more Yuji spoke, the more Satoru could understand why Nanami was the way that he was. He’d dealt with more trauma than the general population combined, had to submit to his dick boss every day, then deal with more shit in the way of curses. Plus, blue balls would drive any man crazy.

If he needed to snap, so be it—so long as it was with Satoru in the room. And perhaps being called ‘daddy’ would be the driving factor. At that point, Satoru had tried everything. What was one more shot in the dark?

“He’s definitely DILF material,” Nobara said, biting her bottom lip.

Megumi shoved her shoulder so hard that she fell onto the floor in a laughing mess. “You can’t say that about a teacher! You guys are hopeless.”

“DILF?” Satoru asked, tilting his head. “Is this another young person slang word I’m not privy to? You guys make me feel older every day.”

“No way you haven’t heard of DILF,” Yuji said, dumbfounded. “I mean, MILF? It’s just the dad version. Dad I’d like to…you know.”

That woke Satoru up to the fact that he was having this type of conversation with his students, his children. He stood up and swiftly shoved the chair back in its place before taking his place at the front of the classroom.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he said, sorting through his materials to ignore the horrid blush flaming his cheeks. “Let’s begin class.”

When the trio left the classroom after their lesson, Satoru thought back to Yuji’s explanation and chuckled. He had found a way to seduce Nanami. It was far-fetched, but he had exhausted everything else. And he was going to use it.

The only way to get Nanami to hang out with him was to show up wherever he was unexpectedly and follow him around until he relented. Nanami wasn’t exactly rude. He’d speak to Satoru, albeit sparingly. But Satoru couldn’t shake the fact that they weren’t spending time together—he was just following Nanami while he was doing chores.

Not this time. He was going to force Nanami to spend time with him. Which led him to standing on Nanami’s doorstep with a six-pack of beer in one hand and a movie CD in the other.

When Nanami opened the door, he barely got out a ‘hello?’ before his face dropped upon seeing Satoru.

“Don’t look so excited to see me, old pal,” Satoru said, but he couldn’t hide the sharp pain in his chest on his face. Luckily, he had his black blindfold on, which at least hid half his facial expressions. “Surprise! We haven’t hung out in so long, I decided I’d drop by for a movie night.”

“We’ve never hung out,” Nanami said tiredly. Had he been sleeping? He was in sweatpants and a black T-shirt, a casual look Satoru had never seen him in before. It did nothing to hide the lust building in his stomach just at the sight of Nanami. He thought he was attracted to Nanami in suits, but perhaps a simple pair of sweatpants was all he needed to fold over. It did a great job at highlighting Nanami’s crotch, anyhow.

“Well, let’s start now!” Satoru said, pushing past Nanami into his apartment since he knew Nanami would never invite him in. He set the beer on the coffee table in front of the couch before settling on the floor to pop the CD into the player. “I rented us Inception. I heard it’s really good.”

“It is,” Nanami said, shutting the door behind him. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he stared down at Satoru, not moving from the front door. “I’ve watched it. It’s also almost three hours long.”

“Yay, three hours we get to spend together!” Satoru said with a clap. “Come on, sit down, let’s drink.”

“You don’t drink,” Nanami remarked. He glanced up at the ceiling before closing his eyes with a sigh. After running a hand down his face, he relented and walked over, sitting on the floor across the table from Satoru.

“So I don’t,” Satoru said and tried not to show the excitement on his face. Nanami remembered something about him. He knew something about Satoru, something that would only happen if he paid attention to Satoru. “But it’s no matter! I’ll just watch you drink. You can put the rest in your fridge. Call it a housewarming present.”

Nanami took a beer out of the plastic and stared at it, pushing his hair out of his eyes. It was down and slightly wet at the ends from a shower, and Satoru had to look at the floor to prevent himself from blushing anymore at the sight of Nanami with his hair down. He looked so vulnerable, so in his element.

As Nanami regarded the beer can, Satoru took the opportunity to glance around the apartment. He’d never been inside Nanami’s apartment, and it was exactly as he thought it’d be. Everything was tidy and had its place. The apartment itself was humbly small, with what seemed like only one bedroom hidden beyond a slightly ajar door down a hallway. He had a modestly-sized television set on a TV stand full of books and magazines. His kitchen was spotless, and his small dining table had a vase with a blooming bouquet. It was strange and inexplicable how much the normalcy turned Satoru on. After the life he’d lived, all the trauma he’d endured, all he wanted was to settle down someday.

“Thanks,” Nanami said, the sound of the beer fizzling drawing Satoru back into reality. As he watched Nanami take a sip from the can, he realized that he wanted to settle down with Nanami.

“You’re very welcome,” he said. “That’s your favorite brand, right?”

Nanami swallowed and set the can down on the table. His brows raised high on his forehead as he pursed his lips. Finally, he nodded. “Yeah. Thank you, Gojo-san. I’m not sure how you remembered that.”

I remember everything about you, Satoru almost said but caught himself last minute. “I already told you to drop it with the san. Just call me Satoru.”

“Mm,” Nanami hummed indifferently. His eyes drifted to the TV screen before grabbing the remote. “Are you going to make these movie nights a habit?”

Satoru’s heart dropped at that. Did Nanami truly hate him? Had he been so caught up in seducing him that he had been imagining things, that he had ignored all of Nanami’s rebuffs?

He bit his bottom lip and shrugged defeatedly. “I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t like them.”

He watched as the lump in Nanami’s throat bobbed when he swallowed thickly. “I don’t mind them.” He scoffed. “It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

Okay, they were getting somewhere. Satoru didn’t especially like Nanami having to resort to hanging out with him, but they were at least hanging out. He could work with this.

He leaned forward on his hand over the table, smirking at Nanami as the blond desperately tried to avoid eye contact. “Really? You don’t have any dates or anything? A good-looking guy like you—you should be drowning in women, Nanamin.”

The corner of Nanami’s lip curled at the nickname, but he had learned better than to correct Satoru. “No, I’m not,” he replied, although he didn’t seem too broken up about it. “I’m not a playboy like you.”

Satoru took genuine offense to that, slapping a hand to his chest. “Playboy? Playboy! Nanamin, you’ve burned me!”

If only Nanami knew the lengths Satoru had gone to seduce him, how many people he’d rebuffed at the slightest chance of getting in his pants. But he couldn’t say that. Not yet.

“You know, the students were gossiping about you,” Satoru said, reciting the script he’d created prior to knocking on Nanami’s door.

That took Nanami’s attention away from the movie long enough to glance at Satoru. “Oh? What did they say?” He narrowed his eyes. “And how do you know if you weren’t taking part in it?”

Nanami always knew exactly what to say to catch Satoru off guard. He did not expect that in his script. Nanami spoke so little, it seemed impossible for him to go off-script. Lo and behold.

“I just walked in on them speaking about you and demanded them to tell me what they said so I could punish them, I swear!” Satoru cried, but all Nanami did was look back at the movie. “Okay, but I’ll tell you what they said, and you can decide on their punishment after I tell you. They said that…well, that you’re a virgin. Ridiculous, right?”

Nanami’s expression went blank, and his arm shot out for the remote. He paused the movie and turned to Satoru, who stared back at him with an expectant smile. He took another swig of his beer and sighed. “They’ll have to spend thirty extra minutes every day after class cleaning the school for that.”

Satoru’s smile dropped. “But…but, they’re wrong, right?”

Nanami shot Satoru a look before it melted into something different. Something Satoru couldn’t parse. Was it guilt?

“Yes, they’re wrong,” Nanami said then chuckled humorlessly. “Although, I can understand why they think that. I don’t exactly present myself as somebody capable of…that.”

Satoru didn’t like seeing Nanami sad, but seeing him this dejected hurt even worse. This was the exact opposite of what he wanted to happen. He shuffled forward so that he was next to Nanami, giving him a healthy amount of space before placing a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, what’d I say? An attractive guy like you—it makes sense if you get tons of action. But, I mean, I knew I’d find you at home on a Friday night instead of out anywhere.”

Nanami chuckled again, this time more good-naturedly. He ran a hand through his hair, but his hair just flopped back onto his forehead. “You know me too well, Gojo—ah, S-Satoru. That sounds so strange.”

Hearing his first name on Nanami’s tongue was euphoric. He wanted to hear it more. Hearing it made him feel as inebriated as if he had drank the entire pack of beer. It took away all of his inhibitions—the few that he had—and lubricated his lips so that anything and everything he wanted to say spilled out.

“They also said other things,” he continued, giving Nanami’s shoulder a light squeeze. “They called you a DILF.”

“A DILF? What’s that?” Nanami cringed. “Or do I even want to know?”

Satoru tapped his chin to feign thinking. “Hm, I think you do. To, you know, decide the right punishment.” He leaned forward so that he was mere centimeters away from Nanami’s ear before whispering, “Daddy I’d like to fuck.”

He leaned back quickly as if Nanami would strike him, putting his hands up as he laughed. “Crazy, right?”

However, Nanami was silent. He was a statue, his eyes solidly on the floor in front of him. He was so still that Satoru looked to the remote to see if it was a curse that had somehow paused the sorcerer.

“I mean, you’re not even that much older than them, and they’re calling you daddy,” Satoru continued amidst the awkward and unnerving silence. “Daddy. Funny, isn’t it?”

Nanami showed no emotion. Instead, he shot to his feet and turned off the TV. “I think you should go home.”

No. NO. Satoru couldn’t believe what he was seeing. A harmless joke turned into him getting kicked out of Nanami’s apartment. He never thought Nanami would actually kick him out, especially in such a callous way. He floundered for any way to fix the situation, coming up short. Nanami didn’t stick around to wait for Satoru to leave, instead walking away to his bedroom.

There was only one thing Satoru could think of that could stop Nanami in his tracks. It had been the reason why he so callously left, but desperation grew like a mold in Satoru’s chest, leaving him unable to breathe or move until he got what he wanted from Nanami: attention. Validation. Anything that wasn’t him walking to his bedroom, alone.

“Daddy, wait!”

Nanami came to a halt halfway through a step, stuttering forward like an unoiled machine. His back was wide and on full display in that T-shirt, and even underneath it, Satoru could see how tightly he was holding his shoulders, his muscles prominent. He had succeeded in getting Nanami to stop: but why? And now what?

However, that question was quickly answered when Nanami turned slightly, and those sweatpants Satoru had been so in love with gave away exactly what had Nanami rushing away so rapidly. His hand was covering most of it, but the grayness put on full display the prominent shadow of Nanami’s erection. Satoru found himself gawking at it for much too long, and when Nanami cleared his throat, his eyes flickered up to the blond’s face emblazoned with a blush whose color rivaled a tomato.

Oh. So it was true. Nanami did have a daddy kink.

The realization, when it finally hit, felt like a semi-truck had run over him. He had already been recovering from Nanami clarifying that he wasn’t a virgin (who had he had sex with? Who?), but the reveal that a kink that was largely said as a joke was true…it was enough to leave Satoru breathless.

“I really think you should leave,” Nanami mumbled, turning his back to Satoru again as he began to walk toward his room. “I’ve embarrassed myself enough.”

Nanami embarrassing himself was unthinkable. The display had been the opposite of embarrassing: it was incredibly arousing. Then again, everything about Nanami was arousing to Satoru. It was time for Satoru to embarrass himself.

He stood up, nearly passing out from the lack of oxygen in his brain. He hadn’t been breathing properly, and all of the blood in his body had been diverted to his groin. None of his bodily functions were working properly, except for his dick. And all of his best decisions were made when controlled by his dick.

“You haven’t embarrassed yourself, Nanamin,” he said, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “I…I’ve been looking for a way to get you like this for so long. To…be excited. So, it’s okay, daddy.”

He leveled his gaze at Nanami before sliding off his blindfold so that he could see just how serious he was about the situation. His eyelids were heavy with lust as he slowly approached Nanami, his footsteps the only sound in the apartment for several moments. He stopped only a meter away from the sorcerer, sweeping a hand through his hair. “You’ve done the opposite of embarrassing yourself.”

Nanami’s eyes dropped from Satoru’s face down to the sliver of skin revealed as he lifted his arm to his hair. He exhaled shakily before glancing off to the side as any sort of eye contact with Satoru proved too difficult. “You’ve been looking for a way to get me aroused?” Nanami shook his head and scoffed. “I thought you were joking this whole time.”

“What?” Satoru couldn’t believe his ears. He was so shocked that he dropped the sex kitten act, outraged at Nanami’s thick-headedness. “Nanami, how many times did I explicitly ask you on a date? Told you I wanted to spend time with you, kiss you even? What is wrong with you?”

Nanami’s eyes were owlish at Satoru’s exclamations, his mouth agape but with nothing coming out of it. He was rendered silent, watching as Satoru caught his breath from his impromptu bout of shouting. Finally, he swallowed and shook his head. “I thought you were kidding all these years…that you didn’t actually like me…that’s why I never reciprocated. Because if I did, you’d be disgusted that I took you seriously.”

“Like you? Nanami, I’m in love with you.”

The admission caught both Satoru and Nanami off guard. Satoru clapped a hand over his mouth, and Nanami dropped the hand covering his erection. He covered his mouth so that both men were mirroring each other in their surprise. The only thing that got either man to move was when Nanami saw Satoru’s eyes drop to his crotch, which was still tented in his sweatpants and fully visible.

“In love, you say?” Nanami said, his voice dropping several octaves. “What does Satoru in love look like?”

Nanami may as well have been purring in Satoru’s ear with how gravelly his voice had grown. Satoru’s eyes grew dazed with desire, unable to focus on anything except the blond man right in front of him. This was happening. Nanami had reciprocated his feelings, feelings he’d supposedly had for years. That was the downside to being a responsible, stable man: Nanami would never put a relationship on the line because he had romantic feelings, unlike Satoru. If he had, they would’ve been together much earlier. So, they simply had to make up for lost time.

“It looks like this.”

Satoru was on Nanami in a flash, Nanami barely able to blink before he felt a pair of soft, warm lips on his. His hands raised in the air in surprise, but when he sensed Satoru’s arms draping over his shoulders, his fingertips slightly scraping his back, he brought his hands down and ghosted them over Satoru’s hips.

“You can touch me, Nanamin,” Satoru mumbled against his lips before diving back into their ever-deepening kiss.

Nanami found himself clutching Satoru’s hips out of surprise when he felt Satoru’s tongue licking his bottom lip for unspoken permission to enter. Once he gained his bearings, he granted permission by invading Satoru’s mouth first, earning a delicious gasp and moan from him. He found his confidence and massaged his thumbs into Satoru’s hips bones, bringing him closer until their chests were pressed against each other.

“I can feel you,” Satoru said, grinding his crotch against Nanami’s and licking his lips at the deep groan that vibrated in the blond’s throat. He could clearly feel the outline of Nanami’s erection against his thigh, and it only made him that much more dizzyingly aroused. There was nothing that could get him off his high now, except for an earth-shatteringly good orgasm.

He lowered his hand to Nanami’s erection, brushing his knuckles over it before grasping it gently with his full palm.

“A-ah, Gojo-san…” he sighed, his fingertips sinking into the tenderness of Satoru’s hips. “That feels—”

“Good?” Satoru whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of Nanami’s lips. “I want you to feel good, daddy.”

“Jesus,” Nanami exhaled harshly, his hands raising to grip Satoru’s shoulders. “I never thought that would get me this way. But of course, it’s only with you. You always make me this way.”

Only when Nanami’s words echoed in Satoru’s mind did he understand the implications of what he had said. Always. Had he accidentally turned Nanami on some other time? Did Nanami think about him sexually? Did he dream about him? The mere thought of Nanami jerking off to him was enough to have him dropping to his knees, face-to-face with the giant tent in those sweatpants that doubled as lingerie with how sexual they were.

“Gojo-san, wait,” Nanami said, his voice laced with panic. His hands wavered in the air much as they did when Satoru first kissed him before settling one of them on Satoru’s head, his fingers tangling in his hair. “You…you don’t have to do this.”

Satoru almost laughed at the suggestion that he was doing this for Nanami. No, he had dreamed about having that giant cock in his mouth ever since the first time he had seen Nanami’s transformation. After bidding goodbye to him that day, he went home and masturbated furiously at the faraway dream that he be able to fuck Nanami—or rather, get Nanami to fuck him so beautifully that he’d never be able to be satisfied without him. Who could have predicted that that faraway dream would be right in front of him one day?

“I want to,” Satoru said. He’d never been more truthful than in that moment.

He traced the top of the sweatpants’ waistband, glancing up at Nanami for permission. When all Nanami could do was grip Satoru’s hair tighter and stare at him expectantly, Satoru didn’t waste any more time. He took both hands and carefully pulled down the sweatpants, but they hitched on Nanami’s erection with how pronounced it was. The visual left Satoru salivating in anticipation, and when he finally was able to pull the sweatpants over his erection, his breath hitched in his throat when he saw that Nanami didn’t have any underwear on.

“Do you always go commando?” Satoru asked, causing Nanami to cover his face with the hand that wasn’t buried in Satoru’s hair. “Or were you expecting me?”

“When I sleep, yes,” Nanami replied, his voice muffled by his hand. Satoru thought it endearing that he could see the blush trickling down his neck to his shoulders, even blotching the top of his chest peeking out from his shirt. Everything about Nanami was delicious to look at.

“Easier for me,” Satoru said before turning his attention to the very thing he’d been daydreaming about for years.

He gripped the base of it with a hand, but it was so large that it made it look no smaller. It left Satoru somewhat intimidated—if he could barely fit it in his mouth, how would it go inside him? Regardless, it’d have to work. He wasn’t going to be leaving himself or Nanami with blue balls. He would be draining them, hopefully multiple times.

Tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, he gave the head an experimental lick. Nanami groaned at that simple touch, and Satoru peered up at him as he got used to the salty taste of precome on his tongue. His Adam’s apple was prominent in his throat as his head lolled backward, the sight pushing Satoru forward to do more. He needed Nanami lost in pleasure, getting so drunk on sex with him that he wouldn’t regret a second of it when they were done.

He stuck out his tongue and took Nanami’s cock in one fell swoop, getting about halfway down before his gag reflex kicked in. He squeezed his thumb in his fist to abate it, breathing in deeply before continuing his journey down Nanami’s cock. Just when he felt like his dinner was about to come up, his nose nuzzled into Nanami’s neatly trimmed pubic hair, and he stayed there for a moment, enjoying the fullness in his throat and the tightness of Nanami’s grip on his hair, his scalp burning, before drawing away and coughing to the side. He inhaled sharply as he jerked Nanami off with all the new saliva coating his cock, leading to lasciviously wet sounds echoing alongside Nanami’s sinful groans.

“You’re incredible,” Nanami murmured, his hand trailing to Satoru’s chin and tipping it up.

He wiped away a trail of spit before his thumb rested on Satoru’s bottom lip, swiping alongside it. His eyes twinkled with fascination when Satoru opened it obediently, those eyes of diamonds settling on him with such a heated gaze, it had his cock twitching. Experimentally, he pushed his thumb into Satoru’s mouth, pressing down on his tongue with curiosity. He sucked in a sharp breath when Satoru’s tongue enveloped his thumb and gave it a warm welcome, bringing his lips around it and sucking on it dutifully.

“Did you learn this somewhere?” Nanami asked, although he quickly found that he didn’t want to know the answer.

“No,” Satoru replied, leaving Nanami at ease. “You made me this way, daddy.”

“Oh, you little minx,” Nanami said, but he couldn’t hide the groan or weakness in his knees when Satoru returned to giving his cock the royal treatment.

Satoru polished the cock as if it were his last meal, making sure no part was left unattended. A string of saliva hung from his chin as he bobbed his head back and forth, stroking the parts he couldn’t reach—which with the size of Nanami’s cock, were significant. He groaned with each tug Nanami gave his hair, his voice vibrating around the cock, which then had Nanami groaning and tugging more in response. It was a brutal pleasure loop that had Nanami slightly bucking his hips forward into the warm hole surrounding his cock, much to Satoru’s delight.

Satoru popped off Nanami’s cock, keeping it warm with both of his hands as he stared up at Nanami. “You can fuck my mouth, you know,” he said, opening his mouth to reveal his perfectly pink tongue and inviting throat. “Don’t be scared, daddy.”

Each time Satoru used the pet name, it sent rivulets of electricity down Nanami’s spine. He didn’t know when he first developed this kink—all he knew was that he found himself clicking on a gay porn video with a man whose body looked just like Satoru, and he called out ‘daddy’ over and over to the hunk of a man fucking him into the mattress. Ever since then, he searched high and low for videos of men crying out ‘daddy,’ men who all resembled Satoru in one way or another.

The second he heard Satoru use it for the first time only twenty minutes ago, he thought he was hallucinating. He thought that somehow the beer he drank was poisoned or laced with magic mushrooms, anything that would make more sense than Satoru Gojo calling him daddy. But then he said it again, and again. And again.

And now that Satoru was on his knees, sucking his cock so prettily with those flushed cheeks on pale skin and cherry-red lips stretched around his girth, calling him daddy in that wonderfully low, hoarse voice, it took everything inside Nanami not to pull out his phone and record. This was infinitely better than any video he had watched previously. No, there was no competition. He would never watch another porno again now that he had Satoru in the palm of his hand.

Or rather, on his cock.

“You asked for it,” he said, a deep growl in his throat as he fortified his grip on Satoru’s hair and slowly drove his hips further into his mouth. “S-shit…”

Satoru moaned around Nanami’s cock again at the sound of Nanami cursing, something he hardly did. But he was making him feel so good that he couldn’t help but let a curse slip. It was invigorating.

Nanami soon picked up speed, bucking his hips forward into Satoru’s mouth and down his throat. He felt himself falling into pleasure-fueled hysteria, no longer able to control his hips as he thrust into his mouth with full force, feeling Satoru’s nose bump against his lower stomach each time. The wet squelching sounds coming from Satoru’s throat were downright salacious, and his face and Nanami’s cock were a mess of precome and spit. Satoru raised trembling hands before setting them on Nanami’s thighs, sinking his fingertips into his quads and leaving behind crescent-shaped tattoos.

“F-fuck, I’m close, Satoru,” Nanami gasped, throwing his head back as he continued using Satoru’s head like a fleshlight. “Let me just pull ou—”

Hearing his name in Nanami’s mouth made Satoru go as crazy as Nanami did over being called daddy. He wanted nothing less than for Nanami to leave his mouth empty. His throat was rubbed raw, and he’d been fighting his gag reflex with every fiber of his being, but the pain hardly compared to the orgasmic pleasure he was feeling in his groin. So, he moved his hands to Nanami’s ass and pushed him forward so he had no choice but to stay inside Satoru’s mouth.

“S-Satoru—! If you do that, I’m going to…ngh…coming!”

Satoru’s eyes rolled up into his head as the combination of his scalp burning from Nanami’s tight hold on his hair and the semen pouring down his throat hit him. He was finally tasting Nanami’s semen, and while it certainly wasn’t creme brûlée, it was everything he had dreamed about and more. Satoru was certainly a playboy before he got attached to Nanami, but Nanami had thoroughly turned him into a downright whore.

After gulping down what felt like multiple loads of semen, Satoru slowly slid off Nanami’s cock with a pop and wiped away the mess of come and spit mixing on his chin and down his neck. His eyes were bloodshot, his eyelashes glued together from tears that streamed down his cheeks. The more Nanami gazed down at him, the more he felt himself grow harder again despite orgasming only a minute ago.

He reached down and wiped a stray tear away from Satoru’s cheek before bringing it up to his mouth and licking it.

“How many people have you practiced that with?” he asked, although he didn’t want to know the real answer. Satoru knew to play along, and he loved that about him.

“Nobody, daddy,” Satoru said, rising to his feet and pressing his chest against Nanami’s. “I promise.”

“You—fuck.” Nanami couldn’t help the breathless curse that left his lips. He gave Satoru a once-over, taking in his cotton sweater and black slacks, before grabbing him by the neck and tossing him onto the sofa. He loved looking at Satoru clothed, but at that moment, he needed him naked, and fast. “You showered before this, right?”

“Yes…” Satoru trailed off as he watched with poorly concealed excitement as Nanami undid his jeans and ripped them off in one fell swoop, leaving him in his special briefs. They bordered on women’s underwear with how small they were, but they were white cotton, still having that masculine edge while poorly hiding his weeping erection. He had nearly orgasmed just from having Nanami’s cock stretching his throat, and the evidence was plain as day looking at his briefs.

“I…I also prepped,” Satoru said sheepishly, his hand trailing between his legs. “You don’t have to do anything. You can just…fuck me.”

He pressed a finger to his hole, still clothed by his briefs. He stifled a gasp, remembering how thoroughly he fingered himself in the shower before walking over to Nanami’s. He knew Nanami had a big cock, just by the virtue of his being—but seeing it in person was something else. Insecurity sunk in as he realized he may not have been as prepped as needed.

Luckily, Nanami didn’t think Satoru prepping himself was enough. He needed to take it upon himself to pleasure his partner back, the partner he had yearned after for so long and who was now indulging in his most embarrassing kink.

“Come here,” Nanami commanded, grabbing Satoru’s hips and pulling him down. He then raised Satoru’s hips up into the air so that his ass was flush with his face. He licked a line from Satoru’s clothed cock down to his ass, pressing his tongue into the fabric until he could feel the throbbing hole lying past that thin barrier.

“A-ah, daddy, wait! That feels—hah…”

“Good?” Nanami asked, echoing Satoru’s previous purr. “So you knew that we’d be doing this tonight. Did you come over fully intending on seducing me?”

Satoru covered his face with a forearm, but his blush radiated past that. “Yeah, I did. Does that make you…disgusted?”

“Disgusted?” Nanami sounded appalled just at the thought of being disgusted that the man he’d been in love with for so long had wanted to have sex with him so badly he prepped himself before forcing himself into his coworker’s apartment, prepared to put his feelings on the table and their relationship on the line. Luckily for Nanami, Satoru was a bold motherfucker.

“It makes me want to eat you up,” he finished before pulling the briefs aside and diving into Satoru’s heat. He kissed a trail from Satoru’s balls down his perineum and finally, while listening to the symphony that was Satoru’s moans, licked the hole he’d be using and abusing very, very soon.

“Yes, yes! Fuck, that feels so…ngh, good…” Satoru couldn’t help embarrassing himself over and over, and Nanami’s neighbors would certainly hate him after that night. But he had dreamed about this moment for so long that he couldn’t help being overdramatic, couldn’t help wanting to let Nanami know how truly grateful and excited he was to have his coworker eating him out.

Nanami licked and sucked, trailing a hand to Satoru’s cock to stroke him there, too. He pressed a thumb into the head of his cock as he slid his tongue inside him, driving Satoru wild. He watched from his peripheral vision as one of Satoru’s hands gripped the bedsheets while the other came to rest on Nanami’s head, gripping his hair in much the same way as Nanami did with him.

“I’m close, daddy, I’m close,” Satoru breathed, his eyes fluttering closed to process his pleasure. However, he didn’t want the night to end like this. He opened an eye and peered around his hips in the air to see Nanami’s cock standing at attention as if he hadn’t just orgasmed a few minutes ago. After all the excitement that night, Satoru wasn’t sure if he’d be able to keep going after one orgasm—and he wasn’t about to leave Nanami unattended.

“Daddy, fuck me. Fuck me, please. Now.” He wasn’t pleading anymore. He was demanding.

Nanami lifted his head from between Satoru’s legs, savoring the heat of his now-lover’s thighs pressed against his ears. He turned his head and sunk his teeth into the soft inner flesh of Satoru’s thigh, eliciting a yelp from the other as Nanami licked around the bite to seal the deal.

“Are you sure?” he murmured against Satoru’s thigh while gazing at him. “I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back.”

Satoru reached down to his discarded pants on the floor and rifled through one of the pockets, bringing out a condom. Or, what looked like just one condom, before he let the entire roll of about six condoms drop down.

He smirked as he watched Nanami’s face fall. “I’m hoping you don’t.”

He winked as he tossed the stack to Nanami, who set down Satoru’s hips in favor of ripping a single condom packet away from the stack. An entire stack; Satoru couldn’t be serious. But as Nanami swung his gaze back over to the sorcerer, he realized that his playboy label was still true—his sights were set solely on Nanami at that moment. He was insatiable, as evidenced by him spreading his pretty, slender legs dusted with pink blush and a deep bite mark, knowing full well what that would unlock inside Nanami.

“You’re a drug, Satoru Gojo,” Nanami mumbled. “Not only prepping yourself, but keeping an entire roll of condoms…you are one conniving bastard.”

Saying his senior’s full name without honorifics and calling him names were still strange to him. But when he saw how Satoru’s cock twitched after what he said, he realized just how much of a turn-on either saying his name or being called names could be. Perfect.

“Then come have me,” Satoru said, holding out his arms as he watched Nanami tear a condom wrapper and slide it onto his cock. “However many times you like.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Nanami said, guiding his cock to Satoru’s entrance and pressing the head to the rim. Just that small touch had both men breathless, their chests rising and falling erratically to compensate.

“I love games,” was all that Satoru could reply with before Nanami pushed inside. The next thing that came out of Satoru’s mouth was a whiny moan, his trembling legs crossing behind Nanami’s back and pushing him even further inside him.

“Gojo-sa—nn…you’re tight,” Nanami breathed, his arms faltering in their hold on the couch. He nearly collapsed on top of Satoru but managed to keep himself up, one of his arms gripping one of the couch pillows while the other drifted to Satoru's thigh. He ran his fingers up and down that trembling thigh, raking his fingertips until they created light red trails on his pallid skin.

“F-feels…feels so good, daddy,” Satoru said, his voice hitching in his throat with how much every synapse in his body was on fire. It hurt, the stretching sensation from Nanami’s large cock making Satoru bite his lip. But the sheer pleasure he felt from finally being connected to Nanami, to know how his most intimate region felt inside him, to know the face Nanami made when he orgasmed…the pain was secondary. “More…harder, please.”

Nanami wanted to do more. God, how he wanted to fuck Satoru senseless until he could no longer speak and anything that came out of his mouth were whimpers. But he wanted to admire his lover first, wanted to take in his first time with the man he’d been in love with for years.

He slowly trailed his hands underneath Satoru’s sweater, pushing it up so that those pretty pink nipples he’d seen whenever they’d change in gym class or go to onsens together and had dreamed about. With a final push that fully buried his cock inside Satoru, he leaned over and took one of Satoru’s nipples between his teeth. His ears pricked at the sound of Satoru’s sweet gasp, and he dove in for more, sucking on the entire nipple while rolling the other between his fingers.

“There is…too much…” Satoru couldn’t object even if he tried. The stretching of his hole, the tickling sensation of his nipples sending ripples throughout his body, Nanami’s heat draped over him, everything amassed into a wave that crested and crashed over Satoru when Nanami bit his nipple again. “Too much! C-com—”

Satoru barely finished his sentence before semen spurted from his cock and painted his stomach white. His walls clamped down completely onto Nanami’s cock, causing him to groan and leaving any sort of movement impossible. Not that he wanted to move anyway—he wanted nothing more than to watch Satoru in the throes of an orgasm so powerful, his entire body went still before breaking out into shakes. His back arched off the bed and his legs squeezed Nanami’s waist so hard, he’d surely have bruises the next day.

Everything about Satoru was delectable. The more Nanami looked, the more he saw Satoru’s body as sweet: his nipples were strawberry-pink, his hole cherry-red, his skin milk-white.

“Are you alright, Gojo-san?” he asked sincerely once Satoru seemed to calm down, his chest rising and falling desperately to compensate for the lack of oxygen to his brain. He splayed a hand over Satoru’s chest, but the poor man was so oversensitive that he flinched away at the feather-like touch.

“F-fuck,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as he flung a forearm over his face. “That was…fuck.”

“You orgasmed after I barely put it in,” Nanami remarked, his eyes falling to Satoru’s nipples. “And after I played with you here for a few seconds.”

His hand came to rest over one of Satoru’s pecs, his fingers bumping against the abused nipple and making Satoru squirm underneath him. His eyes flickered back to Satoru’s face with an uncharacteristic smirk.

“You’re in for a long night, Satoru.”

Without another warning, he pulled out, leaving Satoru breathless, before slamming inside him, digging his fingers into Satoru’s waist.

“Fuck! Ah, daddy—it’s too much…” Satoru cried, his arms flailing in the air before coming to rest on Nanami’s shoulders.

Nanami leaned in slightly to make it easier for Satoru to hold onto him. “I thought you wanted more.”

Satoru pouted silently and turned his face away, but his pouting only lasted for a few seconds before Nanami thrust into him brutally again, enough for the wind to be knocked out of him. Except this time, Nanami gave him no breathing room, instead striking up a rhythm that had Satoru gasping for air with each thrust.

“Oh—ngh! Yes, yes, more…daddy…!” The new pet name settled over each man like an aphrodisiac, leaving Satoru hard again and Nanami throbbing inside his lover.

The combination of Satoru’s walls hugging him as if they never wanted to let go, Satoru’s moans, and Satoru’s beautiful expressions were enough to have Nanami fighting the crest of an orgasm from crashing over him. His rhythm gave him enough pleasure to leave his entire body buzzing, but it was punishing and left him racing to the finish. He was fucking into Satoru hard and fast, each thrust sending the couch a few centimeters to the right, the legs scraping against the floor. His fingers were already leaving bruises on Satoru’s svelte waist, and his thighs were littered with marks.

In the few seconds Nanami had left before he succumbed to orgasm, he leaned over and sunk his teeth into the tender flesh of Satoru’s neck, savoring the small cry Satoru let out. A shiver rattled each of Nanami’s vertebrae at the sensation of Satoru raking his fingernails down his back desperately as if he was hanging on for dear life. After releasing the bite and licking it as a silent apology, he turned his attention to Satoru’s ear, licking the shell of it and drawing out another weepy cry from his lover.

“I love you, too, Satoru,” he whispered and smiled to himself when those three words seemed to lead to Satoru’s second orgasm of the night.

But Satoru wasn’t orgasming alone. Nanami was right behind him, his hand shooting out to grip the couch’s arm for support as he slammed into Satoru once, twice, before filling the condom to the brim. He let out a shaky groan, his eyes squeezing shut tightly enough for white stars to break out in his vision.

“I feel it…I feel you,” Satoru whispered, his fingers releasing their hold on Nanami’s back and replacing it with a feather-like touch as he traced shapes into his skin. “Inside me. When was the last time you…”

Satoru swallowed thickly, thoroughly exhausted after his orgasms—the second of which ended up being completely dry. Nanami made him feel so good that his body couldn’t even keep up with semen production to go along with his orgasms. It made Satoru’s eyes drift to the roll of condoms and wonder how many more Nanami could fill up.

“A long, long time,” Nanami replied, slowly opening his eyes after what felt like eons.

His vision was bright at first before adjusting to the living room light. Once his eyes adjusted, he lowered them to his lover and was met with Satoru’s magnificent eyes staring up at him expectantly. He hadn’t masturbated in a few weeks at least, having been too busy with work, curses, and teaching to sit down and watch porn. Besides, he’d exhausted his specific niche of Satoru-lookalikes crying out daddy, and he couldn’t get off to any other video. Satoru had captured not only Nanami’s heart but also his attention. Nobody else was comparable to his Satoru Gojo.

“Well,” Satoru said, his hand moving to the back of Nanami’s neck to bring him down for a kiss. After a shallow kiss, he rested his forehead against Nanami’s and smiled. “Prepare to do it again. And again.”

Nanami’s eyes shifted to the condoms. “Now?”

Satoru licked his lips. “Now, daddy.”

Nanami asked no more questions after that.

[asmogorna]

Okay so there’s this ww artist on ig called like tooth lilys or something and he’s always causing drama in the ww fandom and he mouthed off about your art and now heaps of insta ww fans are like talking about you :| free publicity?

ahhhh so thats whats happening .. lmao thats crazy

i checked out their story, and i sure doooo love how they leave some things out when talking about both situations that they mentioned to make me look worse ..

ok so

warning, yap session incoming

the "will wood in a (miku) binder" thing happened back in fall 2023 when i was still semi new to the fandom and didnt know a lot of things. so tho i to this day i dont think it was that big of a deal, i wouldnt do it today

it was an artwork made for shits and giggles, the context of which i have explained here before. i never meant to imply that will wood is trans and i certainly dont "headcanon" him as that. my curse is that even when joking around i tend to try and make my art look good, so i get why people thought it was unironic. and i know that it sounds like a lame ass excuse, but it legit didnt cross my mind that people would think i drew will wood as a trans guy or smth. legit my only thought process was "funny haha internet thing" + "my favorite thing" = "good idea"

now the usage of his real name is something i am genuinely sorry for, but it was an accident and a genuine mistake on my part. i remember seeing someone mention it casually in some comment section, and assuming that it was ok, since i didnt know he was in any way against it. (i also thought that it was the same name that he used in "the real will wood" in that one section cus it sounded a bit similar).

when i was informed about the fact that he doesnt want it spread around i deleted the post right away and apologized, so bringing it up like something i did on purpose and out of malicious intent is a tad bit .. misfitting, if you can use that word

now the hot topic of the day: my waywood art

i have said this before and i will say this again, how i feel about rpf is solely based off how the people involved feel about it

to clarify: i never drew anything inappropriate or even suggestive with them, the "worst" thing is 2 simple sketches of them smoochin. or. this.

idk if this is what they were referring to when talking about me drawing will wood and gerard way "making out" (specifically. because i think "making out" implies to be more sexual stuff than small kisses). and if so, then it once again feels like blowing things out of proportion

and now the point i want you to get: will wood wouldnt give a flying fuck

like i said earlier, i never drew anything inappropriate, because that would actually cross will's existent and real boundaries. you know, the ones that he stated

im not making some conspiracy theories about him being gay, like some people seem to imply in their inbox messages to me

im not sending a whole ass smut fanfiction to litwtc gmail or something, i dont bother him in instagram dms asking if he wants to fuck gerard way, im not shipping him with people who he actually knows personally and has to look in the eyes of from time to time

im not doing anything that he would actually care about

him and chris have joked about him being attracted to gerard before, and though im not saying that you can joke about everything theyve ever joked about, i feel like in our case its clear that will clearly doesnt care about the implications ? (i generally believe that ww fans would get their panties twisted about less things if more of them listened to what these 2 talk about so calmly on litwtc but i digress)

if he saw that some random teenager on tumblr is drawing him and gerard way (gasp of horror) holding hands, he'd laugh at it max and then move on with his day

people are treating the whole situation like i posted pictures of him from when he was a kid or leaked patreon content or drew him fully naked or anything else that, you know, would actually affect him in one way or another

what im doing is innocent fun which isnt even likely to reach either of them. will wood very rarely checks tumblr and, once again, i genuinely dont believe he would care. and gerard way aint got no internet + he doesnt care x 2

it is weird but rn this is what brings me the most joy, even if its silly to say. both will wood and gerard way mean a lot to me and putting them in situations together makes me happy. i am but a child full of fun whimsy

i wont be posting any more explicitly romantic art to avoid more drama, and i also wont be responding to all the anon messages i received because there are like .. too many of them. an overwhelming amount i'd say. sorry about that

i really didnt mean to cause such a fuss, and i understand why some people might be uncomfortable with what i do

i fully understand why you would dislike my waywood hyperfixation shenanigans, and i dont have a problem w you over that, but treating me like pure evil because of a thing so insignificant is just.. overdoing it

once again, i will be toning it down, but it really isnt the end of the world if i dare to draw will wood and gerard way being a tad bit gay (which is, i apparently need to mention, not me actually saying that will wood the alternative musician is a homosexual gay who is in a genuine for real actual real gay homosexual relationship with gerard fucking way the lead singer of my chemical romance. i think speculating on other people's sexuality and gender identity is boooo tomato tomato tomato)

sorry for the rant and sorry to all who were disappointed by my lack of remorse. come back in a couple years when i turn 18 and stop having fun and artistic freedom

thank you for your attention and i hope i at least cleared some things up to those who werent w me throughout every event where i get involved in fandom drama

bye bye

[7s3ven]

NOTES: angst, reader has divorced parents, Simon and reader lowkey aren’t all that nice to each other, closeted Simon I guess, Simon x Jonny

Simon Riley is a tough lover. You don’t really understand what goes on in that head of his, just that you should leave him alone if he expresses annoyance.

He’s more of a distant partner than the boyfriend you used to spend every waking hour with. You aren’t married but sometimes you wished he’d pop the question. Or break up. Anything to ease the tension that had settled between the two of you.

You aren’t an easy person to love either. You overwork and sometimes you’re a little over ambitious. You’ve made time for Simon in your busy work schedule but he never seems to do the same.

Sometimes he comes home, other times he doesn’t. On the rare occasions you hear him creep into your shared bed, you often feel his arm sling around your waist, pulling you closer in an attempt to deny the feeling that your relationship was falling apart.

You love Simon more than anything, perhaps more than yourself. There is nothing you wouldn’t do for him and that fact alone seems to scare him.

You don’t predict the intense argument between you and Simon after you find him in a bar, looking a little too comfortable with Jonny.

You’ve always known there was a spark between them but you’ve done your best to ignore it.

“You said you were at the gym.” You snap. You and Simon are standing outside the bar in the chilly air, entirely aware of how his coworkers are watching through the tinted window.

“I did. Then I stopped by the bar and ran into ‘em.” Simon gruffly responds but he’s never been good at lying, especially not with you.

“I don’t care if you wanted to go to the bar. You should’ve told me. I would have let you go.” You fold your arms over your chest in an attempt to cover up your freezing limbs.

Simon says nothing for a second. “You don’t like Jonny.” He pauses, “If I told who you I was with, you would have gotten mad.”

“So you thought lying was a better option? Simon, I work in this area. Besides, you know why I don’t like Jonny.”

“I ain’t gay, love.”

You stare up at him through your lashes, quirking an eyebrow. “Then how come you never look at me the way you look at him? We used to be close, Simon. Then you joined the military and I barely hear from you. You disappear for months without telling me and just when I’m ready to give up, you come back. It’s a continuous cycle that I can’t stand.”

“My job is demanding.”

You have the urge to slap him. “So is mine. That leaves you with no excuse. You don’t come home in days where I know you’re at the base. And when you do come back, you smell like him.”

You don’t have to specify who you’re referring to. Jonny’s cologne is strong and sharp, a smell you can’t miss. Even now, Simon reeks of him.

“You aren’t perfect either.” Simon chimes in. You roll your eyes, fully aware of your flaws but at least you don’t brush past them. You acknowledge them unlike Simon.

“Simon, I’m going to be direct with you, we’ve been dating for… well, most of our lives. I don’t want to waste any more years on a man who doesn’t love me back.”

Simon knows what you’re suggesting. Either he pops the question… or he risks watching you walk away. “But I do love you.” He insists but you can’t hear any genuine emotion. He’s always closed off, never open with you anymore.

You’re sure Jonny knows more about Simon than you do. You barely even know his favourite color now.

“Then why don’t you fucking act like it?” The way Jonny is staring at you so innocently riles you up. “Ever since you met Jonny, you haven’t treated me the same. Face it, Simon. Between me and him, you’ll always choose him.”

“I can’t love someone who refuses to love herself first.” Simon harshly retorts.

You furrow your brows. “Think about it, Simon. I care deeply for you… but nothing is stopping me from leaving.”

You’re a few steps away from Simon when he speaks again, always wanting to have the last word. “The reason you can’t love yourself is because you are the product of two people who couldn’t love each other either.”

It takes only a second for you to retrace your steps. You’re standing in front of Simon again, silent. Then, without another word, you lift a hand and punch him square in the nose. “As if your parents were any better.” You sneer. “Don’t bother coming home. I’ll leave your things outside for you to collect.”

You spare Simon one last look. Your lip curls into a frown as you glare at him. “Jerk.”

Simon says nothing as you walk off for the second time, successfully disappearing from his sight. His nose is heavily bleeding but he almost doesn’t feel the pain.

His ears are loudly ringing as he stares at the spot where you once stood.

A few years ago, Simon was over the moon for you, despite not visually showing it. Things had changed; he had changed.

In the end, you were right. Between you and Jonny, he would always pick the latter. Once upon a time, you were his top priority but not anymore.

It was just sad seeing a person he knew so well in the past walk away.

That was the problem with your relationship anyway. The two of you were always stuck in the past, trying to rekindle a flame that had already died, refusing to believe that this was the inevitable end.

[supernotnatural2005]

Imagine sending Jensen a thread of filthy texts whilst watching him perform a gig 👀

AN: This was purely based off of this gif set. Because hot damn!!! 🥵🥵

Warnings: Language, suggestive texts, smutty thoughts - 18+ ONLY

Main Masterlist

Jensen's Masterlist

You stood at the back of the crowd, figuratively keeping your head down as you quietly supported your boyfriend’s band, Radio Company. 

Jensen had a lot of fans, even in your hometown of Austin, and you wanted to keep a low profile so as not to draw any attention to yourself. You were not a celebrity by any means, maybe now by proxy because of your relationship with him, but still, you liked to maintain your privacy. 

Jensen just handled the attention better; he was a natural. Maybe it was for the fact he’d been in the limelight for the better part of over 3 decades, but you think it was also because he was just so genuine. You truly admired him for it. Supernatural had created such a loving and welcoming fanbase that exceeded even beyond the show's eventual end. 

It was incredible to witness and even be a part of for the last few years. So it was no surprise to you that they would support him with his other talents. 

You watched on in astonishment, as per usual, as he sang the last lines of their song—Drowning. One of your personal favourites because it showcased just how beautiful Jensen’s voice really was. He never ceased to amaze you, even now, nearing the 4 years you’d been together.

However, you too enjoyed keeping him on his toes. It was only fair. Though, the way he looked up there, glistening with sweat from his efforts and from the August heatwave up here in Austin; his sleeveless arms gloriously tanned and toned, his longer locks damp and slicked back with a casual hand and bearded jaw. He was only to blame for what you did next. 

You pulled out your phone as the band took a mini break to take a drink and talk to the crowd and opened your text thread with Jensen. 

‘You have no idea how hot I am for you right now.’ 

‘What I’d give just to kiss you, to touch you, to taste you.’ 

‘I’m so wet for you I can feel it between my thighs, every time I move.’ 

‘I wish you could come find out what you do to me.’

The words kept coming, flowing through your thumbs as you tapped away at the keyboard, sending one after the other, getting filthier and filthier with each one. 

‘Fuck, I’m so horny I’d let you fuck me in the restroom after your set.’ 

‘Would you like that baby?’

‘Feel your big cock slip so easily inside me?’

You bit your lip, blushing at your boldness and the increasing wetness between your legs. You were only torturing yourself at this point, but as you looked up, you saw your boyfriend’s frown and him reaching for his phone in his jeans pocket. 

Your heart began to race, heat, other than from the warmth of the room, licking up your spine, tingling your fingers through to your toes. You watched his face go from confused to bewildered to mad. His jaw ticking and the tightening grip on the device were telltale signs you’d pushed his buttons. 

His eyes flicked quickly to where you stood in the back, flipping you off with a look that would only intimidate the unexpected. But you knew differently. That was a look that said, “You’re going to be punished for that when we get home.” The thought alone sent another thrill of excitement through you.

AN: oof 🥵😅 just a quick little impulsive imagine that hit me. But can you blame me! Look at him! 😍 (also as a side note: i have nothing against his wonderful family, this is just purely fiction.) As always, feedback is much appreciated! 💕

[megzscribbleznwordz]

ok....murderface with a partner who loves him exactly the way he is BECAUSE he's so grumpy and yucky

oh you mean me (silly.) For real though, I love the idea of Murderface being able to be his real and nasty self with somebody... He deserves to be happy in a relationship AND be himself, goddamnit! I had a lot of fun writing these :)

William Murderface

At first he’s genuinely confused, like befuddled at the fact that they love him for these things. The same things that make him the most unpopular member of the band, the same things that are constantly held against him and made out to be negatives

These are the things that endear his lover? He’s flattered, unsure entirely how to respond besides asking why. Why do they find these things endearing? Why are they not put off by him?

Once he reconciles this confusion, it quickly goes from complete and utter loss into teasing. He knows they love him how he is, and he continues unabashedly being himself while at the same time utilizing his partner’s attraction to him and teasing them for being so endeared to his yucky charms

It gives him a confidence boost definitely; having someone love him for who he is and not holding any of it against him is a breath of fresh air compared to how most view and treat him.

Murderface is a lot more comfortable in the relationship once his partner’s opinion is made clear; he doesn’t feel the need to walk on eggshells around his partner or the need to alter anything about the way he acts or speaks, something he always thought whatever potential partner would request of him

With his growth in confidence and comfort comes a growth in public acts of affection. He feels more in expressing his love how he sees fit, which involves a lot of hands and snarky smirks. Before, he’d been a bit apprehensive at casual affection, fearing the intimacy and nervous about the idea of being pushed away.

Once Murderface is aware it’s his nature that his partner finds endearing, rather than just his fame and money, he’s a lot more confident in showing his true and genuine affection and letting other people be able to see how much he cares for them

[minimomoe]

Fever n Frosting

here's a little sneak peak of something in my wips... Toji centered, ofc. fluff and whatnot

“Don’t look at it.”

“I don’t even know what I’m looking at.”

“God, it’s ugly, that’s why,” you cried out. 

It was a new week, new day. You have since gone back to work in good health. Your subordinates had left a plethora of messages and emails the days you were out, wishing for a speedy recovery as you have never missed a day of work since… well ever. The day after you packed your own lunch, smiling fondly at yourself at the nikujaga in your thermal cup that Toji had cooked. You loved it so much that you tried your hand in the kitchen. Baking, to be exact. You thought that it would be easier and wanted to surprise Toji the next time you saw him. You were horribly humbled by the deceptively easy food blog.

Toji stared at the cake on the countertop, and then stared some more. It was uneven for one, the left side much lower than the right. You put icing on it before it completely cooled and the pink sugar dripped down onto the table, exposing the yellow cake that laid beneath. Toji wasn’t sure how exactly he could tell, but it looked dense. 

“You don’t have to eat it—“

“I’m eating it,” Toji cut you off. You gave him a look of horror.

“I didn’t even ask you if you liked sweets! Spare me the embarrassment,” you squealed. 

“Nah, you made it for me. Might as well give it a taste,” he said. 

Toji ignored your pleas and rummaged through your cabinets for a plate and fork. He cut a hefty slice and held up the fork for you to taste first, which you profusely shook your head at. He then shrugged and shoved the fork in his mouth. Toji was quiet as he ate, only looking at you with little reaction. You held your breath as you waited for his verdict. 

“Are you sure you were trying to make a cake?” 

“Oh kill me now.” You threw your head in your hands. “Is it really that bad?”

Once again Toji held the fork up for you, gently nudging it on your lips. You opened your mouth, suddenly more embarrassed at the fact that he was feeding you than the failed baking experiment. He stared at your mouth while you stared at his face, noticing how his mouth slightly parted when he slipped the cake behind your teeth. His eyes flicked up to yours and you found it hard to chew. 

“Speak, woman.”

It was a dry, crumbly mess that wasn’t even sweet. Your eyebrows then flew up in realization for the odd taste. Once again, you wished the floor would open up and swallow you. 

“I forgot sugar,” you groaned. You groaned again, a long and exasperated one, resting your head on the countertop in hopes of expelling your failures. Unexpectedly, laughter fell onto your ears. You peeled off of the surface to gape at Toji and he was laughing, a genuine one, not the half chuckled he usually handed out that brought color to his face. It was a beautiful sight to bear that lifted your spirits a bit.

“It’s been a while since anybody made me something,” Toji said softly after he was done. The look on his face stirred something in you. Ruddy blush painted over his cheeks and the crows feet around his eyes deepened. “It’s not the best but trust me, I’ve eaten worse.” 

“I’m not too sure if that's a compliment. It certainly doesn’t make me feel any better.” 

What a lie. His words warmed your face. You shoved the wretched butterflies that wanted to dance in your stomach down by scooping icing up with your finger and eating it. 

“This doesn’t taste bad.” 

“Let me have some more,” Toji said, licking the remaining off of your finger. His hand wrapped around your waist and your wrist as he stood behind you, and your jaw tightened as you felt his tongue pad moved on your skin. “You’re right. I bet it’s store bought.” 

“Hush you,” you nervously giggled. He remained standing behind you, his body caging you to the countertop, eating his slice over your shoulder even when you told him you wouldn’t take it personally if he heaped the whole thing in the trash. He offered you bites every so often, and at the very last bite you accepted it. It was just as tasteless as the first, but when he cupped your chin to face him so he could kiss you, it was as sweet as could be. 

M.list || Twitter || Ao3

[wren-galathinyus]

a little late to this game and I can't even give my full notes like the previous two times (I'm at work and can't do the second watch through I do to take note of my thoughts) but I would like to scream regardless, sp here are a few disjointed thoughts and feelings I'm screaming into the void!

as always, spoilers for arcane, the final act, under the cut

-LESBIAN SEX LETS GO WE FUCKINGGGG WOONNNNNNNNNNNNNN 🎉🎉🎉🎉🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

-but on a serious note for that thought, I'm so fucking happy that we got to have this. these two complex, beautiful, awful amazing women who are unapologetically queer and finally get their shit together to realise, the world isn't gonna wait for us, let's have sex, let's enjoy it. the fumble that vi makes with caits fancy belt, the delicate and healing way that cait holds and undresses vi, the full shot of vi's back tattoo, the fact that they can't keep their hands off each other and can't stop smiling! fuck! this was everything to me if you couldn't tell. also so much appreciation to the fact that this scene is an exact parallel to their first meeting!

-yes Mel get it with your sexy golden magic. I can't wait for the spin off series that will come from thus show cus I think it'll explore the black Rose and noxus war and I can't wait to see more of them!

-cait fighting desperate and dirty while still being so smart you have my heart (also cait with an eyepatch, fuccckkkkkkkkkk

-Maddie's betrayal lol, and the thanks for the warmth, bitch what warmth, cait was so mean to you even when you were sleeping together 😂

-the alternate reality???? oughh, oug oww, I need to lie down and cry for a whole week about that. everyone being alive except vi??? that shit hurted. also, domestic and therapised powder was everything I didn't know I needed and I'm so glad that when ekko figured out the anomaly that that timelines ekko came back to her. timebomb so cannon (also adore ekko for this entire act, every single second of it)

-jayvik mutual destruction is so them actually, and I'm glad they were together in the end. also sorcerer older vik had to be my favourite of his character designs. he looks so soft and at peace

-ambessas death is really not something I though we would see, or at least not in the way that it happened. but it's almost bitter-sweet that her death was nesacary for Mel to graduate to wolf in her eyes

-look, heimerdingers sacrifice was cute and heartfelt, but I really didn't have any attachment to the guy and was just glad that ekko made it home. very cute little song though

-Jinx is fucking dead and I hate it. yes it was in character, she did her one last good thing and just wanted to rest, but damn why did it have to be like that , but on the other hand, it leaves open the spot for powder to take hold of the narrative, because don't think I didn't see those hextech gems girl. she is everything to me and I really hope she's apart of whatever story comes next (I'm praying that powder gets to see vi all grown up, and that her older sister is okay, and that vi gets to see powder, the girl she might have been, and also that vi can see her brothers all grown up) (but that's all just wishful thinking)

-btw!! I always had faith in the writers. I love how this season came out on the full. it's absolutely amazing to me how they have managed to create on of if not the highest quality animated TV show ever. it was admittedly rushed, and I would have loved to see all these plot threads tugged at thoroughly before being tied up, but I still think what we got was a masterpiece

-jayce I did not like you in season one but I loved you in season two, and I held out hope that we would see why you did what you did, and it was so fucking perfect I would like to kick all of the jayce haters, just a little in the shins

-back to Jinx, it was genuinely so heartbreaking to see her catatonic over the loss of Isha and I hope they're together again now

-final form (herald) vik was pretty cool I like how it looked compared to his LoL design

-cait and Mel team up was something I didn't know I needed but damn it was good. the gays and girl kissers were eating well this weekend

-the animation of powder and ekko dancing? think I'll just go cry for another week for that alone, and their kiss!!??!? screaming crying

okay that's all I can think of for now. I may post more, I may not. I will absolutely be reposting like crazy though. agree or disagree with me, I want to hear your thoughts!

[shiningxfates]

Even without him being around, his contracts would know he wasn't dead. That much they could reassure the other residents if asked. With Lucifer already informing Charlie that he'd be gone, that shouldn't be too much of the case. Knowing Charlie was worried did bring him a little comfort. He didn't particularly like being worried about or being seen as weak. This instance was circumstantial. Defending the hotel and taking on Adam is what got him into this mess. The failure ate at him, more than anyone would know. Lucifer had made sure that he'd never forget this failure, even if it wasn't intentional.

This was Hell. Having to take time to recover wasn't very favorable. His eyes did turn up at the little line. He supposed no one was immune to this feeling. The interest was there. He did want to know. Any sinner who had half a braincell would be interested in the individual that held the actual lore of Hell. This was something he knew better than to inquire about. Keeping his thoughts to himself, he also decided to focus on the food in front of him.

"With all due respect, I don't particular like to eat with company around." It wasn't that he was messy. In fact he was quite proper when eating at the table. It was more a habit he had developed from not really wanting to be around other sinners. Then again, he wasn't at the liberty to be making such requests. Lucifer had been kind enough to bring him something to eat. The least he could do is eat a little while he was there. Retracting his earlier statement, he slowly removed the lid, letting it rest to the side of the bed. The dish was simple, a little stew but with the raw pieces laying on top instead of cooked in. It brought a genuine smile to his lips. Even if it was for show, he appreciated the gesture.

Alastor took a couple small bites before setting the utensils back down. "It's acceptable." He shook his head, giving a little laugh. "More than acceptable." If he was being honest, he didn't trust most of the hotel staff and guests to cook anything for him without a little guidance. Another thing he was used to doing on his own, and a hobby that transitioned from his previous life to now. This was just a situation that couldn't be helped. And as much as it did warm him, there was the constant reminder that this wasn't because Lucifer wanted to.

"I'm sure you're quite busy with the hotel. Please don't let me keep you." The sooner Lucifer left, the sooner he could go back despising this whole existence. He continued to be the fool here. Mistaking Lucifer's obligation to the deal for anything positive towards him would be his downfall.

The devil's lips quirked up in a small smile at the other's answer about not feeling quite like death. The pain was expected, he may have healed a majority of the wound but it would still feel tender. At least once they got through the second session of healing, the sinner would feel as good as new. It was good that it didn't feel like he was one wrong move from reopening the wound, though if Lucifer hadn't healed the internal damage, it would've been more like one wrong move from falling apart. Literally.

The fallen angel listens to the way Alastor admits that he doesn't have the energy to do his daily routine around the hotel brings little joy to him at the moment. Normally, he would absolutely relish it. But this wasn't something stupid that had knocked the Radio Demon on his ass, this was angelic power. He's more impressed that the other was able to bounce back so quickly and had lasted as long as he has. Not that Lucifer was going to say that out loud.

          "Char Char is worried about you," Lucifer answered after a moment of staring at those fluffy ears that were laying flat before moving his gaze back to Alastor's face. "I didn't tell her why you're out of commission. I don't precisely like lying, especially to her. I just told her that from my understanding, you needed to deal with a personal matter for the better part of the next week and a half or so. That you were cagey and didn't give me an exact estimate."

He shrugs a shoulder.

          "Besides, taking time to rest for recovery isn't something to be ashamed of. Everyone goes through it. Me included," He continued quietly and then averted his gaze from the sinner's to look at the still covered plate before pointing at it. "Eat. I was told you like raw venison. Which seems kind of cannibalistic in a way given the attributes you have. So I made you something with that in mind. I've seen nastier stuff eaten in front of me, deer boy."

Better to focus on the food instead of focusing on the bit of himself he told Alastor. He has had to recover from his own injuries. His Fall was not gentle. It had been violent and traumatizing, the night terrors still got to him and his wings would ache from just thinking about it. So, yes, better to focus on the food.