#this lecture is super easy I can get it done quickly and go to bed and I want to do that! like genuinely

[exopelagic]

I am in an OBSCENELY good mood considering everything

[solomonish]

Way To Go MC, You’ve Allowed Yourself to be Poisoned (Demon Brothers)

CW for: descriptions of food and eating, brief descriptions of choking-like symptoms. (mainly in the intro, though the individual stories mention coughing, (light) blood and fainting). there will be talk of food and keeping an eye on what is being eaten in the individual character stories as well.

Ahh thank you nonnie! I got tired and stopped at the demon brothers but I’ll finish the nowdateables later if you want! Which let’s be real, I’ll probably do soon because I wanna write for Solomon lol

I hope you like it!

---

It started off like any other night, with you grabbing a seat at the dinner table as the last of the food was placed in the middle. Someone beside you took your plate and gave you your portion for you, smiling at your murmur of thanks as they set it down. You waited until the last person, Levi, sat down, smiling at him as he muttered something about finishing a level to nobody in particular. 

The moment you ate your first bite of food, something felt...off. Your tongue was tingling the slightest bit and you swore you could feel an uncomfortable heat follow the food as it slid down your throat. Thinking it was just a weird Devildom spice - after all, you’ve been here for how long? and nothing has happened yet? - you take another bite and immediately regret it.

Though such a food was no big deal for demons, it was powerful enough to knock you out of your chair and hunch over, grabbing your stomach as you cough forcefully in a desperate attempt to get the food out. Your insides were burning, your airways closing in and your chest crying out in pain the more you coughed. Soon enough, tears clouded your vision, and though you could hear the chaos around you, the only thing you could focus on was what felt like fire burning you from the inside out.

When you start coughing:

The moment you let out a little cough, his eyes are on you curiously. It’s just a remnant of the days when you were still so new to it all: the fragile little human makes a strange noise, be prepared to save a life.

He almost let his eyes fall from you, but he noticed that you weren’t stopping. It wasn’t the first time you had caused a scene at dinner, saying something afterwards about it “going down the wrong tube.” Still, this seemed...different.

When you fall off of your chair, he’s out of his before you even hit the ground. He’s kneeling by your side a second later, trying to tilt your head towards him so he can fully understand what is happening.

He finally realizes that you aren’t just choking and this is much more urgent when the blood starts coming out of your mouth.

He takes his attention away from you for a moment to ask who cooked dinner, and the brothers promptly rat out Mammon.

Though Lucifer is clearly agitated at that, he decides to lecture later and instead ask what Mammon put in the dish. Everyone erupts at once about halfway through because “How could you have forgotten what that will do to a human??”

That’s the last thing you remember for yourself - whether from the poison itself or being unable to breath through all your coughing, you passed out fairly quickly afterwards

Taking care of you afterwards:

Lucifer isn’t the type to panic in the moment. He’s very accustomed to taking the lead and having everything under control.

That’s in the moment, though. When he has Satan mix up the remedial potion, he’s fine, checking over you and keeping his brothers a safe distance away while he makes sure you’re still breathing. Once you’re safely in bed, brothers having been banned from your room until at least morning, and he’s the only one left lingering in the doorway, that’s when it all begins to set in.

There’s less regret and more general uncertainty in these moments - it starts with him wondering if he should really leave you alone, and soon enough it spirals into him reminding himself just how careful he needs to be with you in the Devildom. (And really, after taking charge of seven demon lords on accident, isn’t it just like you to get killed by a spicy leaf? Honestly, he should’ve known better.)

Once you finally do wake up, he tries to act like his normal “down to business” self - “I’ve told my brothers they are not to overwhelm you today, though we both know how that will go. I’ve made Leviathan figure out what bland foods are safe for humans, you’ll have to take it easy for now as your stomach is still irritated. Let me know immediately if you feel woozy or nauseous for any reason-” He prattles on and on, and though you’ve stopped paying attention you can still feel the softness in his tone

He tries to be gentle with you, and you have to remind him that you were just poisoned, not bedridden for months. Sometimes he’ll shoot you a glare and try to justify himself by saying it’s just like you to make another foolish mistake, but others he just won’t say anything and will keep the hand he has placed on your lower back “for safety”

Firmly believes in establishing as many preventative measures to keep this from happening again, so the next few weeks are going to be....a lot.

Sets up an alarm so he can remind you every lunch not to pick any of the “not safe for humans” options. Probably also gets you a seat in a class that goes over poisonous plants in the Devildom. 

Do not try to skip this. It’s easier for everyone if you just let him ease his mind how he likes.

When you start coughing:

At first, Mammon assumes that you just heard the joke he made and (naturally) started laughing so hard your weird little human body couldn’t take it

So essentially, you start choking and he starts laughing at you thinking you’re laughing together

That all stops the moment you fall out of your chair and double over, suddenly dry heaving on the floor.

He sort of short-circuits for a second, not entirely sure what to do until one of the more knowledgeable brothers stoops down beside you

They tell him to just keep your airways clear and make sure you’re still breathing while they go to get the elixir they need, and he does. It’s one of the few times they see him so serious - he just doesn’t want to mess up, so he doesn’t focus on any of their comments or bite back

(”Gee, Mammon’s actually stepping up for once” “Yeah, too bad he was the one that poisoned them in the first place”) 

(Lucifer: he WHAT)

Taking care of you afterwards:

Mammon is usually the first thing you see in the morning, so that doesn’t come as a surprise. What does surprise you is how quiet he’s being. 

When you sit up and groggily ask, “Is something wrong?” (barely getting the words through your swollen lips) he is torn between trying to say something smooth (”N-not now that you’re okay!! not that i care....”) or calling you a dumb human. So instead he just stares at you

Eventually you can get it out of him what happened, and it explains why your face feels like it had been burned and your stomach feels gross

Mammon says he’s going to come up with a surefire way to protect you so nothing like this ever happens again, but his version of protecting you is sticking by your side 24/7 and he already does that so?

You’re the one that’s going to have to take the lead. Make a list of common ingredients that are SUPER deadly to humans and make sure you both have one for reference

Soon enough, though, he figures out how he can help you without your guidance and you catch him pointing out what’s safe without you having to ask

He follows you to the lunch line and examines the clear plastic boxes until he can point out a few human-safe options. He’ll bend to whisper in your ear in line at some fast-food joint. If you’re not sure, he’ll be the first to ask before you even remember that’s something you should be doing anyway.

He’ll even try to make dishes he thinks you’ll like without the poisonous ingredient! Sometimes it takes a few tries but if he wants you to try something with him, he WILL make it himself

When it comes to you, Mammon really will give you the best care he can. Sometimes he just needs that extra push to think things through.

(And if this wasn’t a push. a hard shove. over a cliff. into shark infested waters)

(don’t do this again, mc. his demon heart can’t take it)

When you start coughing:

Levi has never mentioned how his brother don’t normally speak much to him at dinner and he’s just learned to be highly attuned to you. He notices a lot of little things you do, and is normally the first to realize when you’re choking or something.

That’s why, when you start coughing this time, he is the first one to panic. He knows that that isn’t a normal cough, he just doesn’t know what to do about it.

He looks down at his plate and realizes what’s on it, something he cries out right when you fall to the ground, clutching your stomach. You’re on the other side of the table and his brothers are already crowding around you, so Levi doesn’t get to see the blood and can only hear your coughing.

When your coughing gets weaker as you faint, he freaks. the. fuck. out. Did you die?? Even as he tries to look over his brother’s shoulders, he can’t get a good grasp of what happened until somebody tells him.

(It doesn’t matter much though. He’s still stuck in a loop of wondering what he could’ve done if he had gotten to dinner sooner, if he had managed to score a coveted seat next to you, if he had just looked at his plate or offered to take over for Mammon...)

Taking care of you afterwards:

You wake up in your bed and Lucifer is the one who comes in, asking you how you feel and if you’re up to classes to die. 

Being poisoned sure does take a lot out of you, so you ask to stay. Lucifer gives a quick nod and warns you not to shirk your duties, wishing you a fast recovery and letting you know that (human safe) food has been set aside specifically for you.

You doze off soon after (hey, a sick day may as well be spent sleeping in, right?) and when you wake up, somebody else is there, looking at you with inquisitive orange eyes and nearly scaring you half to death.

When you scream, he screams, backing up into your dresser and knocking some of the things off of it. 

“I-I’m sorry-! I was just- told to check up on you- just in c-case....I’ll leave now!”

Boy’s gonna make you chase after him when you’re basically sick smh

If you go to his room and demand to be let in, he will - and he’ll let you stay under the guise of “well if you have to check on me every hour it’ll be less of a hassle if I just stay here...”

You won’t be able to get him to say he feels guilty for letting this happen, but when you pick up on the signs ensure him that he’s doing fine taking care of you. HIs cool room helps soothe your mouth (which is still a little irritated), and you’re honored he has an alarm set to check up on you

You know he’s feeling better about it all when an alarm goes off and he just asks “Hey you good?” and he chuckles a little bit when you respond “Hold on I gotta check my own pulse....... yeah i think i’m good”

Overall he is worried but he doesn’t know how to communicate it? So it’s a lot of quick, worried glances and double checking nutrition facts on packages before he hands them to you.

He kind of leaves you to your own devices, but he does send you worried glances every now and then until you’re recovered. He also makes it a point, when Mammon’s on dinner duty, to tell him exactly how he prepared the meal, though you don’t know if it’s for your sake or just to bother him. Probably both.

When you start coughing:

Satan has taken to leaving his books in his room for most dinner and talks to you in their place, so he notices what’s in the dish pretty quickly.

However, the second step of realizing what it could do to a human doesn’t quite hit him until you’re already on your second bite.

He reaches out to grab your wrist anyway, watching you cough while also staring at him in confusion. As he watches your face redden and your mouth swell, you take your wrist from his grasp and cover your mouth with your hand.

He’s the one who knows what to do, so he appoints someone to keep and eye on you while he runs (yes, runs, but he’ll act all cool about it if his brothers bring it up later) to his room to get some potion that’ll (hopefully) negate the effects

(Don’t let him hear me say this but) he’s similar to Lucifer in that he’s very level-headed when it happens - somebody needs to be focused on the cure when some of his more dramatic brothers are screaming (looking at you, Mammon and Asmo)

Taking care of you afterwards:

Satan might be the best at taking care of you, but he’s probably also the least fun.

Once he realized a while ago how fragile a human could be (and that he was interested in actually keeping you alive rather than just watching how long it takes for something to hurt you), he put in an effort to read up on how to help a poisoned human in the Devildom.

He knows how you must be feeling, and he offers you soothing teas or even a (human safe!) numbing lip balm to help you out.

(He finds great pleasure in how ridiculous you look, now that the danger’s passed - though he won’t tell you outright, you can tell it by the amused grin he isn’t even trying to hide)

Don’t be surprised if you catch him eyeing your plates of food for a while after the incident, and any time you catch him in the act he’ll look at you, take a drink out of the nearest cup and lift his eyebrows in a weird little acknowledgment that he’s been caught before saying “It looks tasty.”

Overall, he’s the standard amount of worried? Even though he will take every opportunity to tease you about how you looked afterwards or how feeble you are to be taken down by something so small (jokingly), he won’t ever get out of the habit of double checking your food to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

When you start coughing:

Asmodeus eyes you warily when you start coughing, but continues with his entertaining until you hit the ground.

He’s by your side in an instant, hands hovering over you as if he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself (he doesn’t).

He doesn’t remember calling for Satan, but Satan is the one who kneels by you, so maybe he does? His focus is on you and deciding on something he can do to help.

This ends up shielding your face, puffy and a mess from your tears and retching, from the others who are all peering over at you in concern. He knows it’s not the most pressing detail, but he figures that maybe he can preserve your dignity a little bit, no?

He follows the action with his hands covering his mouth nervously, watching as they have to force a potion down your throat now that you’re unconscious. He’s allowed to stay by you once they determine that you’re safe since he normally doesn’t cause too much of a fuss - not when he looks as pale and miserable as he does now, anyway.

Taking care of you afterwards:

He’s not too experienced in the healthcare field, but boy does he know self care! He knows how to get your skin feeling less gross after the rather...irritable reaction it had and the best way to rest is if you feel totally physically relaxed, right?

For a while, if your stomach still feels like it’s churning or you’re otherwise unfocused, he’s the first to defend you from anybody who thinks you’re overreacting. 

Also makes sure nobody outside of the house knows how...unsightly of an ordeal it was. He isn’t shaming you internally or anything, but he’d loathe to have such an unpretty picture in people’s heads when you’ve been nothing but showstopping the whole time beforehand!

Will make sure to grab a seat across from you juuust before you take a bite for a while. It doesn’t matter if he’s across the room in the middle of a story or if you’re at a cafe with someone else and he’s still home. You’ll find him sliding in wordlessly to the seat across from you and watching you intently, making sure you’re eating something that isn’t going to burn you from the inside out.

Has multiple websites bookmarked on his D.D.D. that tell him what is poisonous to you and makes sure YOU are aware of what you’re putting inside your body before you eat it. He seems to genuinely think you’ll forget to save yourself from such a life-threatening situation, but the pout he gives you when you try to get him to stop is enough to convince you to live with it.

When you start coughing:

When you start coughing, he reaches over and starts patting your back absently in the way that usually helps.

He notices the way you grasp onto the table in an attempt to keep yourself up, coughing into your other hand as it gets worse by the second. When you almost slip off, he reaches out to catch you before you hit to floor

Is ready to do the Heimlich when one of his brothers stops him because 1) he’d probably snap you in half, and 2) that’s not what’s happening

He watches blankly as Satan approaches him, laying you down gently as instructed. That’s probably worse, watching you writhe on the floor like that.

He’s the one instructed to help hold you down so they can feed you the potion cure. He wants to hold your hand but it’s covered in blood, and he doesn’t want to risk loosening his grip on you and you somehow spilling it.

Taking care of you afterwards:

He’s the one most shaken up about the whole ordeal, I’d think? While the others are definitely worried he’s the one that has the BIGGEST problem with the feeling of helplessness so I think it would bring back some memories

He definitely keeps a watchful eye over you until you can tell him coherently that you’re okay, and even then he’s still treating you like porcelain for a short while

He can’t help it! Any time he’s reminded of just how frail you can be (and how unexpectedly something horrible can happen) he just...needs a few gentle moments to collect his thoughts.

Does NOT want you even looking at anything that has that plant in it (or anything else poisonous for that matter). Will straight up eat an entire dish from the pan if you give it a glance that he thinks means you’re thinking about eating it. He can usually get away with it since that’s similar to what he already does, but every now and then you see the look in his eyes and wonder if there’s something more to it

He’ll warn you in the future if he knows something is poisonous, but if you’re trying something new he’ll automatically ask you “Can you eat that?” If he doesn’t know, he can at least remind you to check for yourself.

When you start coughing:

Very few things can snap Belphegor out of a drowsy dinner stupor. You suddenly falling on the floor and coughing your insides out is one of the things that can.

If his brothers weren’t so concerned with you, they’d have a few quips about how quickly he startled awake

The first thing he does is dart his eyes back to the table, where he quickly realizes that they just inadvertently poisoned you. When he turns back, it seems the others have already come to that conclusion and someone is running off to help you

He knows that he doesn’t have much to offer in terms of help, but he will tear somebody (Mammon) away from you and kneel next to Beel.

He keeps himself under control by comforting Beel as he holds you down. 

There’s definitely a sick feeling in his stomach, something familiar about you lying on the floor and bleeding that he doesn’t like. He pretends to be averting his eyes at the sight of them forcing a potion down your throat and not some regrettable memory.

Taking care of you afterwards:

You wake up and Belphie is curled up next to you in your bed. Nobody else is in the house and it’s 3 PM. You feel gross and you can’t reach your phone to actually confirm what time it is and you have no idea what the fuck is going on until he wakes up

Which he does, after you poke and prod him enough and he’s very grumpy about it

“yeesh, you get poisoned and suddenly you think you’re the princess of the devildom”

“I get WHAT”

Definitely is planning to get Mammon back tenfold

He tries to act nonchalant about it but he does keep waking up ever few hours and lifts his head to like. check that you’re good for the first day or so. 

Sometimes he gets this sad look in his eyes and you have to smooth his hair back and reassure him that everything’s okay. It works a little but if he thinks he can trick you by pretending to sleep and then steal a few moments where he can Brood on his own while STILL cuddled up next to you, he will.

Suddenly takes an interest in what you’re eating. Every day. Every meal. 

He doesn’t go to check on you but he does text you a few minutes before lunch or if you’re getting dinner somewhere other than the house “What are you planning on eating?”

Gets real huffy if you don’t give him a straight answer. Usually will respond with a “Whatever don’t get yourself almost killed again”

If you decide to get cheeky and answer “Probably straight poison, like right out of the mysterious bottle with a skull on it” he will just say “ugh, sounds like you. have fun.”

“...”

“...”

“...seriously, don’t do that mc.”

he sets alarms to wake up so he can make sure you don’t ingest literal poison be a little nice to him please

[wonjaekook]

One Minus One Plus One

Pairing: college student!Mark x college student!reader

Description: In all of the years you’ve known Jungwoo, you should have figured out to not take his words at face value because, though you haven’t even met, Mark Lee seems to hate your guts.

Word Count: 9.9k

Genre: kind-of-enemies to lovers! fluff? angst? humor? I honestly don’t know how to categorize this

Warnings: vaguely suggestive ending, some minor swearing

A/N: This is my (late) holiday gift for a friend and to you all, I suppose. It’s an enemies-to-lovers but not really, as they’re not really enemies and it’s more passive-aggressive!Mark and very confused!Y/N. To the intended - I love and appreciate you so much; thank you for always supporting me and listening to me ramble about even the most ridiculous ideas <3 If you ever need anything, I hope you know that you can always shoot me a text or DM! Please enjoy c:

Mark Lee is always sweet. It’s the kind of sweetness that’s warm and fulfilling, leaving a pleasant feeling in the pit of the stomach, like a steaming up of hot chocolate rather than a strikingly sweet popsicle. His nature isn’t something he particularly prides himself on, as it’s partially unintentional, driven by awkwardness and politeness at times, or by the compulsion to simply make people happy. Jungwoo has told him that he’s allowed to be a little more selfish once in a while, he’s allowed to say no and take breaks sometimes. Except, he’s ever the people pleaser, ever the hard worker, ever the yes-man. Mark Lee is always sweet.

Except when he isn’t.

You’re fairly certain that Mark Lee has hated you since before you even met him. When you decide to transfer to the same university that your high school best friend Jungwoo attends, he talks your ear off about all of his great friends and all of the places he is going to take you and all of the fun you’ll have. He’s always been the descriptive type, telling you far too much about his good pals Mark, Donghyuck, Johnny, Taeil, Jaehyun, Kun, Lucas… and countless others, whose names you sometimes have a hard time keeping track of. Jungwoo has a lot of friends, something which has remained true since high school. Whenever you catch up with him, he speaks particularly fondly about Mark, who is one of his roommates and someone he considers to be one of his closest friends.

“You’ll love him,” he says, “but not too much, I hope. That would be super weird, you and Mark.” He wrinkles his nose at that and doesn’t make any more abnormal comments. You don’t think much of it.

In short, you let Jungwoo decide your opinion on Mark Lee before you ever met him. With everything else about moving to a completely different university occupying the majority of your thoughts, it’s easy enough to accept that Mark will be awkward and painfully sweet and that you will become fast friends. That’s your first mistake.

Before you even finish moving in, Jungwoo drags you over to his place to meet some of his friends, who he insists will become your own. It’s just past noon and he claims that everyone will be awake and ready to greet you once you get there. He’s half right, in the sense that only half of the apartment is awake. The early-risers, who Jungwoo didn’t even have to shake before he came over to get you, are at the table in their common area, sipping on various caffeinated beverages. These consist of Mark and Jaehyun. Donghyuck is presumably still curled up in his bed, asleep after a late night of playing games, and Johnny, who had stayed overnight and doesn’t actually live with them, is passed out on their couch, an arm slung over his face to block the light. Your friend has shown you enough pictures for you to recognize them.

Jungwoo practically deflates as soon as he walks in to see only two members of the current household conscious. “This is why we can’t have nice things,” he grumbles before striding over to Johnny and yanking off the blanket covering his long torso.

The elder groans, clearly having only been dozing and not deeply asleep, and moves his arm so he can glare at Jungwoo. “Your disrespect for my sleep schedule is why we can’t have nice things.”

“You don’t have a sleep schedule,” Jungwoo says back, glaring at his friend with the blanket in his hand. “Plus, Y/N’s here.”

Johnny lazily looks over and sees you in the entranceway, to which his response is to roll slightly so that he’s propped up against the back of the couch with one leg crossed over the other rather than just lying down. “Sup. Name’s Johnny.”

“Ew, don’t use your flirting voice!” Jungwoo whines at his friend, kicking him in the shin. In all honesty, you’re both amused and slightly flattered that Johnny is attempting to flirt with you when he’s just woken up. The messy hair is kind of a look. “Y/N’s a friend.”

“Yeah, we’ll be good friends, alright,” Johnny says, looking directly at you and wiggling his eyebrows in the most ridiculous way. That gets a giggle out of you while Jungwoo gawks, kicking Johnny again for good measure, slightly harder this time.

Jungwoo looks like he’s about to start arguing again when Jaehyun kindly interrupts, shifting the conversation. He gives you a small smile, perfectly polite and handsome, his hair straight and soft over his forehead. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Jaehyun.”

You lower your head to acknowledge him. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” You look towards the other boy at the table, who you now realize hasn’t glanced up at you once. Jaehyun had been at least half watching the mock fight between Jungwoo and Johnny, but Mark had just been staring at his cup from behind circular glasses, not even drinking it. His own hair is slightly damp, curling at the ends, making him appear somewhat young. “You’re Mark, right?”

Finally, he looks at you, but looks away quickly. “Yeah.”

That’s… that’s not right.

You try again, smiling as brightly as you can, even though he won’t glance in your direction again. His side profile is full of both soft shapes and hard angles, afternoon sunlight coming in through the window falls as highlights on his cheeks and nose and chin. He appears exactly as your friend had described him to you, but his attitude proves him to be a walking contradiction. You shift on your feet, grasping for the right words to say. “Jungwoo has told me a lot about you.”

“Uh… yeah. He’s told me about you, too.”

You almost outright frown at that. Isn’t he supposed to be super nice and friendly? Instead, it sounds like Jungwoo has been spreading all sorts of nasty stories about you. Hypothetical stories that, apparently, only Mark has been listening to. Neither Jaehyun nor Johnny are acting strangely towards you at all.

All three of the other boys do seem to notice the change in behavior for Mark, though. There are a few moments of tense silence before Johnny elbows Jungwoo. The latter speaks up. “Hey, Mark, can you go resurrect Donghyuck? I think he might be dead.”

The switch is instant and very startling to you. His face loses all of its tension as he looks at Jungwoo, nodding. “Yeah, sure. If I don’t come back in ten minutes, I’m the one who’s dead.” He pushes himself up out of his chair and exits the common area.

After he’s gone, you look at Jungwoo. He stares back. You make a motion with your head towards the front door, where you retreat to and he follows. You stand somewhat stiffly, hands linked behind your back. “Did you say something to him? About me?”

Jungwoo puts his hands up defensively. “Nothing bad, I swear!” He looks back towards the common area. “He must just be having a bad day or something…”

That doesn’t explain the sudden warmth when someone else spoke to him, though. You frown. “Okay… I guess I’ll just have to try harder to get him to like me.”

Your friend seems to perk up at that. “That’s the spirit!” He proceeds to grab you by the shoulders and steer you back to the common area.

You have an amiable enough time chatting with the boys who had remained there. Eventually, Donghyuck emerges from his room, looking even more ruffled than Johnny had, and Mark shuffles out with him. Once again, he doesn’t even spare you a glance. Every so often, as you’re talking to the others or just listening to their strange, all-over-the-place conversations, your eyes flicker over to him. He contributes to the chatter, but it’s like he’s purposefully avoiding you, even though you’re literally in the room with him. It kind of hurts.

Still, you try not to let it bother you too much. An hour passes, which you realize with a start, and you remember that you’re not even nearly done unpacking. As you’re rising from your seat on the edge of the couch, Jungwoo throws a comment out to you. “You’re welcome to bust in here any time!”

He’s met with a chorus of agreement from the others, except one.

The next day, Jungwoo makes a point to introduce you to the rest of his circle. Not long after, you’re added to a group chat with a whole phonebook of unfamiliar numbers. Most of them, minus several who your friend had told you in the past do a poor job of checking their messages, send their names pretty quickly. Jungwoo tells you who the others are. With a pang of disappointment, you realize one of the missing numbers was Mark.

On your first day of classes, you’re pleasantly surprised to find that you share an economics lecture with Donghyuck, who acts both very tired and also full of energy, chatting your ear off before and after class, but looking as if he’s about to pass out when the professor gives her introduction and starts to go over course material. That day, you also learn that you have an ethics class with Jungwoo’s friend Doyoung, stoic and serious and exactly the opposite of Donghyuck, but still smiling at your lame jokes and carefully making sure you get the homework down.

The second day starts out much more slowly. You settle down for your third class, a curriculum development course, and it takes you about a solid minute to realize that Mark Lee is sitting in the room with you. He had come in while you were busily typing out a text to a friend from your previous university. The classroom is not particularly large and you had taken a seat near the middle, so there aren’t many places for him to hide. When he walks in, he takes a seat by the wall closest to the windows. You consider greeting him, walking to his desk to try and talk to see if he had a change of attitude from the last time you saw him, but then your professor enters the scene. As he passes by the far side of the room, Mark looks up from his own phone and smiles, mouth instantly opening to greet him. You stay in your seat and try to look busy as you listen to them chat amiably. Mark laughs in disbelief at something your professor says about his vacation.

At the end of the lecture, you pack up your things quickly and make the effort to take a few small, light steps to catch up to Mark, who’s already leaving. “Hi, Mark! I didn’t realize we had a class together.”

He gives you a sort of half-shrug, keeping his head pointed straight ahead. Almost imperceptibly, his pace increases. “I guess we do.”

He opens a door to a stairwell, not making any particular effort to hold the door for you. Reflexively, you grab the door and slip through after him. You try again as the two of you head down. “Are you going to be home tonight? Jungwoo invited me to have dinner with you guys.”

“No,” he says, voice edged with irritation. He reaches into his pocket, fishing out his phone and a pair of earbuds. “I’ll be out.”

“Oh.” You slow down slightly. “Well, we should hang out sometime. My next class is this way, so… see you.” By the time you’re done talking, he’s slipped both earbuds into his ears and is pushing the doors at the bottom of the stairs open. You hold back a heavy sigh and shrug your backpack higher onto your shoulders.

As he told you, he’s not in his apartment that evening. Though Jungwoo had invited you to help cook dinner, he shirks his responsibilities, slipping away to play games with Donghyuck and leaving you and Jaehyun to cook, with relatively unhelpful commentary from Johnny, who was once again on the couch when you arrived. At some point, their friend Yuta slips in, steals some noodles, and leaves.

After the cooking is done, you and Jaehyun celebrate with a firm high-five, and Jungwoo and Donghyuck un-disappear, coming out of the younger boy’s dark bedroom. The lot of you are halfway through eating when Donghyuck perks up. “Wait, where’s Mark? He said he would do calc homework with me.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and hold back from saying that he told you he wouldn’t be home.

Thankfully, most of Jungwoo’s friends are nice to you and it’s easy enough for you to make friends of your own. You ease yourself into a routine of classes, homework, and hanging out with your new social circles. Mark doesn’t hide that he tries to avoid you about half of the time. At the same time, you try to split yourself between friend groups, as to not force him either to be around you or to not hang out with his own friends. There are the occasional large scale events that both of you are invited to, but there are enough people that you usually aren’t forced to interact. After a month of classes, you stop trying to start conversations, but you still greet him. He greets you back with the indifference of an overworked, tired stranger. During your class, he firmly ignores you. He does more than ignore you - he speaks to virtually every other person in your class except you. All of your friends carefully avoid the topic of his blatant dislike for you, though you know they all think it’s odd.

Finally, one of those large events comes to pass via the boy known as Zhong Chenle. He doesn’t go to your school, but is still somehow acquainted with all of Jungwoo’s friends, so he became acquainted with you as well. He’s eccentric and sarcastic and sometimes you see him playing basketball with Mark and Jaehyun in the school recreation center. So, when he rents out the local ice skating rink and invites you, you’re excited to go. It’s not often that you get onto the ice - it’s always a thrill after you re-learn how to skate, and you enjoy the feeling of the smooth gliding and wide, curving turns on the blades. You imagine that you’re painting with your feet.

Things go down smoothly, like you envisioned. After just twenty minutes, you’ve confidently found your ice legs and you’re racing around the rink with Donghyuck, playfully tipping each other off-balance with carefully or sometimes not-so-carefully timed pushes. A few minutes later, a new player enters the arena. Maybe if this new person weren’t Mark Lee, you wouldn’t have noticed their entrance, but your eyes are instinctively drawn to him.

The boy in question is clinging to one Lee Jeno, another friend of Jungwoo and Donghyuck and all the rest of them, as they both try to find their balance. Jeno seems to be having somewhat of an easier time with the skates on his feet, making slow pushes so that he glides short distances with Mark holding onto him. Mark is adorably flushed, in a way you haven’t seen before, his cheeks aflame with cold and embarrassment. His body is swallowed by an overly large hoodie, completing the cozy and cute look.

Your racing buddy has also slowed down to watch with you, staring at the scene. He suddenly nudges you with an elbow. “You should help him.”

“Jeno? I think he’s gotten the hang of it. Plus, I don’t know him that well.” It’s now a game of who can dodge implications rather than who can dodge physical pushes.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, skating lazily alongside you. “You know I’m talking about Mark. This would be a great opportunity to get on his good side.”

“Why don’t you help him? He’s your boyfriend, after all.” If you weren’t focusing on turning your skates and keeping your balance because you’ve reached the short end of the rink, you would cross your arms and huff at him more dramatically.

He clicks his tongue sharply, something you know by now that he does when he’s irritated. “Mark isn’t my boyfriend. Doyoung and Taeyong are boyfriends. Mark and I are soulmates. And he’s still painfully single.”

“So are you!” As you protest, you realize that Mark and Jeno are getting closer. Donghyuck fires something back indignantly, but you’re just thinking about what he said before. The offer to help lies in front of you as a real possibility, but how would you feel if someone you hated came up and asked if you wanted help skating? If you really hated them that much, you would just think they were being condescending. The last thing you want to do is give Mark a reason to think you’re acting that way towards him. So, as you skate closer, you pick up your pace and speed on by, not even glancing at the two boys with their arms interlinked. Luckily for you, Jungwoo is just ahead, so you hook arms with him and jerk him forward with your momentum, making him yell out in surprise.

As you’re gliding along, laughing at your friend’s reaction and attempts to push you, Mark stares at you from behind with a small frown on his face.

“Mark?” Jeno’s voice snaps him out of it and he looks towards the younger boy. “Do you need me to slow down?”

“No,” he says rather grimly, “let’s go faster.”

You don’t speak to each other at all for the entire night.

The next month and a half passes unremarkably. Then, suddenly, midterms are rolling up and you find yourself swamped with work, especially in the class you share with Mark and your new friend Yuqi. At the current moment, you’re at your place with your head buried in your arms, groaning dramatically. “I can’t do this.”

Yuqi nods, looking somewhat dead inside. “Professor Lim hates us.”

“I don’t know what chapters we even covered half of the material in. Did he just make it up?” You lift your hand to paw through the textbook in front of you lazily, so much of it seeming foreign. “It doesn’t help that the Instructional Systems Design Model is such a big part of the project.”

“Maybe that’s in Chapter 1?”

You flip through her suggestion before slamming your book shut. “Nope.”

“I know!” You perk up at your friend’s revelation, looking at her from across the table. “We can just ask Mark! He’s good at this class, he probably knows.”

You stiffen at her suggestion. There was only one time you dared to ask him for help, in which he just brushed you off and said he was busy. Since then, you’ve resigned yourself to only asking Yuqi for help, no matter how clueless she is in this class sometimes. A brief moment of panic sends your heart racing as she whips out her cellphone. “Don’t mention me.”

She turns to look at you, finger poised to press call over her phone. “What?”

You put your head back down, muffling your words. “Don’t say my name when you talk to him.” She gives you a weird look, but shrugs, pressing the call button. “Wait! And put it on speaker so I can hear the answer. Please.”

Wordlessly, she rolls her eyes, but pulls the phone away from her face, setting it on the table in front of her. The call connects after two rings and you hear Mark’s voice with the staticky phone call filter over it. “Hello?”

“Hey, Mark! It’s Yuqi.”

“Oh, hi, what’s up?” He seems to brighten up, showing a pleasantness that you rarely hear from him these days.

“I just had a question about our curriculum development class. Do you know what chapter goes over the Instructional Systems Design Model? I can’t find it.”

“Oh, sure. Hold on, let me grab my notes.” From the other end, you can hear the distorted shuffling of clothes and paper for a moment. “It’s Chapter 4, I think. We didn’t really go over that chapter in class, but Prof. Lim told me when I went to his office hours.”

“Oh my god, thank you so much, Mark! You’re a literal life saver,” Yuqi gushes, about to practically kiss the phone in joy.

You press your hands together in front of you in a silent thank you. Mark laughs lightly into the phone. “No problem! If you ever need anything, let me know. I’m always happy to help.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! Bye, Mark!” After receiving a goodbye from him, Yuqi presses the hang up button. She claps her hands twice in excitement. “That makes things so much easier!”

You’re stuck thinking about what Mark said before hanging up. It’s exactly in line with how Jungwoo used to talk about him - polite, helpful, friendly. An ugly part of you has to wonder what you did wrong once again. What part of you is undeserving of his kindness? An even uglier part feels the green flash of envy. “How do you have Mark’s number?”

“We had a class together like a year ago and he’s a pretty cool guy. Also useful to have around.” The image of them studying together, chatting like close friends, heads bent closely over shared notes, makes the parasite of jealousy dig deeper in your belly. The logical side of your brain knows you shouldn’t be feeling like this, but the two sides of Mark Lee make you want to throw an uncharacteristic fit. She tosses her phone to the side before flipping open her textbook to Chapter 4. “Why?”

“Were you guys ever… like…” You bite the inside of your cheek, not wanting to say it out loud.

“Me? Mark? No, we just worked on a project together. I have no idea what gave you that idea.” She wrinkles her nose at you.

“You just talk to each other so casually,” you huff, trying to expel the negativity from your system, “I don’t know.”

“He’s like that with everyone,” she says easily, leaning back in her chair. “Except you, I guess.”

“Except me. I guess.” You parrot, not feeling any better about the situation. When you proceed to ask her if you did anything weird on your first day of class that would have put him off, she denies it, telling you that you were completely normal. Resigned to forget the mystery for the night, you open up your textbook.

Midterms pass with relative success. At least, with more success than you had at your old university. You’re excited for a break, a reprieve from the pain of studying. Johnny arranges a potluck and movie night at his place, assigning everyone a dish and putting you on dessert.

In your class with Doyoung, who is often assigned as the chef of the group, you pressure him for everyone’s favorites. “Something fruity? Chocolatey?”

“We’re split there. There’s not much you can do that would appease everyone, honestly. Some of them are the pickiest guys I’ve ever met.” He continues to scribble notes as you grill him for info, not even looking up.

“What if I did something different? Like matcha cookies?” You tap your chin in thought and Doyoung lifts a hand to point at you after the suggestion leaves your mouth.

“Yes, do that one. Basically everyone likes green tea.”

“Basically everyone?”

“Not Mark.” Doyoung shakes his head disapprovingly. “He’s not arriving until after we eat, though, so I’m sure it’s fine.”

You’re not sure what to say to that. That night, you work hard making your matcha cookies, setting aside a bit of time for a side project. When you arrive at Johnny’s apartment with two dishes, one quite a bit smaller than the others and labeled with Mark’s name, safely hidden in the pantry until everyone has stepped out of the kitchen area and you can put it somewhere you hope he’ll see it. You can only hope that he at least appreciates your effort. When he arrives a bit later into the night, non-gifting you his usual non-existent glance, you can’t help but impatiently squirm a bit. Before you leave, you make a pass by the kitchen and, disappointingly, but not surprisingly, the container is in the same place as you left it, your note still affixed to the top.

The mystery continues, however, when you approach Johnny a few days later to ask about retrieving your containers.

“There was more than one? I only have that big rectangular one that you brought the matcha cookies in. They were really good, by the way - I can only wish the cookies I make turned out like that…” He scratches his head and you feel like the gesture perfectly represents how you’re feeling as well. If he doesn't have the box… who does?

A small part of you holds onto the hope that the intended person retrieved them after you weren’t looking.

The class you share with Mark is not nearly the most interesting one you have, nor is it one that is particularly memorable most of the time. There’s something so terribly tedious about it that makes you suffer a disproportionate amount whenever you do a chapter of the reading, though you think that you’re usually quite good about your work. Still, though you’re not exactly the most studious of your classmates, you can’t stand resounding silences in the classroom. So, when your professor asks a question and no one volunteers, you try to at least say something somewhat intelligent. Today is one of those days. Except, as you speak, you realize with dawning dread that your words aren’t making any sense of all, are barely related to the question, and are progressively spiraling into completely different subject matter. Still, you find it hard to stop, eventually coming to a stuttering stop with your answer. Even Professor Lim can’t hold back something of a put-off expression. You sink lower into your seat and, as your professor says something along the lines of your comments being “not quite relevant,” your cheeks burn.

You spare a glance to the side, looking for some sort of pity or reassurance from Yuqi, but you end up looking past her at Mark. You half expect him to smirking at your failure, like a villain in a high school drama, but, instead, his eyes meet yours. He offers you the barest twitch of an encouraging smile before looking away, his face neutral again. You’re almost unsure about how to interpret the look - it’s the closest thing to a positive emotion he’s ever shown you. Confused, you fix your eyes on your open notebook and keep them there, scratching random notes and doodles into the margins for the remainder of the lecture.

When you think about Mark Lee, you feel like you’re going insane. It would honestly be pretty easy for you to make one of those crazy conspiracy theorist maps with the red strings and thumbtacks attempting to connect a bunch of pictures with all the strange, fragmented experiences you’ve had with the boy. At one position, you could put all the information you supposedly knew about him before even meeting him, all of the things Jungwoo told you, all the smiling pictures from before you arrived. Somewhere else, you could put all of the times Mark has brushed you off or outright refused to acknowledge your existence. In a third location, you could put all the things you’ve actively seen or heard him do that align with the person you thought he was. Finally, you could put the most recent developments of him subtly starting to not ignore you together. The whole diagram would be circled with giant question marks all over it and one question written in capital letters: WHY?

You’re trying to do your damn curriculum development homework and all you can think about is Mark Lee and the first smile he ever gave you. And, from the way your heart is beating, pushing heat into your face and ears, making you wistful and longing to see his smile again, you think you know the direction your feelings have headed.

The next few times you head over to Jungwoo’s place, it’s hit or miss as to whether Mark appears to be actively avoiding you. Finally, one day, you’re pressed shoulder to shoulder with Jungwoo, your eyes fixed on the small screen of your phone as you show him a funny video you found. You don’t notice Mark until he opens his bedroom door loudly enough that you look up and you meet his cold gaze. He’s in casual clothes, a hoodie and jeans, with earbuds hanging from his ears, his hair slightly tousled from the wind outside. The eye contact lasts for only a moment before his door acts as a barrier to your vision. You blink hard.

“Just when I thought we were getting somewhere…” You sulk, speaking lowly as to not be overheard by him.

“You and Mark?” Jungwoo asks, not even looking up. The video ends and your friend puts down your phone, folds his hands in front of him, and turns to look at you. “Did you ever figure it out?”

“Did I? How could I figure it out when he won’t even talk to me? Did you?” You lean away from him, crossing your arms. “Should we even be having this conversation over here? He’s just in his room.”

Jungwoo shrugs. “He has his headphones in, he can’t hear anything. To answer your question,” he pauses, leaning in closer to whisper like he’s telling you a secret, “I have no idea.”

“You must have some ideas at least?”

“I have many ideas, many theories, and quite a few formulas. Most of which don’t particularly apply to this situation.” You grumble something under your breath about engineering majors as he continues. “For Mark? He might be letting all the negativity he’s ever felt out on you, honestly. Maybe because you’re the same major?”

You sit up slightly straighter. “We’re the same major?”

“Yeah?” Jungwoo replies, giving you a look. “He’s trying to be music education instead of history education, though.”

“I never knew the specifics,” you mumble, letting your posture fall back into a slouch. In reality, it’s more than just not knowing the specifics - there’s very little you’ve managed to learn about Mark that you haven’t actively had to pry out of your shared friends. You know about some of the foods he likes, some of his hobbies, and a bit of general information. It’s awfully hard to get to know someone when they refuse to acknowledge you.

That notion makes your developing crush feel even stupider.

You attempt to turn the subject back to where it began. “Why me, though? Why not literally anyone else?”

“You’re a pretty cool person and you’re good at a lot of things. Mark’s developing an inferiority complex?” Jungwoo taps his chin as though he’s pretending to be some great thinker.

“I’m not going to lower myself to help some man’s ego,” you huff, your nails digging into your palms as you make tight fists. “Plus, there’s nothing I’m particularly good at that he’s not also good at, if not better.”

“It’s not really about ego, I think…” Jungwoo says, trailing off. “I dunno. He’s not like that with anyone but you.”

“No one but me, huh.” Honestly, you’re kind of getting sick of that expression. This isn’t the kind of exceptional you want to be to him. Not at all. You’re honestly not sure when it stopped being a simple need to be on pleasant terms with Jungwoo’s friends and started to get romantic. Your lips press into a thin line for a moment before you exhale sharply from your nose. “Everything is a big ‘I don’t know’ and I hate it. If it’s not an ‘I don’t know,’ it’s still stuck in the ‘why?’ stage.” You lay your head down and you have to resist the urge to scream into your arms. “I’m going to lose my mind.”

“You really make no sense at all.”

“It really makes no sense that I-” You bite your tongue to stop yourself to stop yourself from admitting out loud to the feelings you’ve just recently realized. Jungwoo just gives you a sly, knowing smile that you don’t like the look of one bit.

Before you know it, finals are around the corner and, with it, one of the last organized events you’ll have with your friends until testing is over. This time, it’s a group dinner where people can come and go as they please, and a few of you have taken it upon yourselves to do all the cooking. Namely, you, Doyoung, Jaehyun, Kun, and, surprisingly, Donghyuck. Suffice to say, the kitchen is not enough space for all of you. Still, you manage to pull it off, completing a hearty Korean-style dinner that slowly disappears from their dishes as all of the others eat. By the end, you’re worn out from the sweltering heat of the stove, the occasional bickering with the other chefs (‘Donghyuck, stop eating all the radish!’), and chatting with nearly every single one of your friends. Names and faces scroll through your head and you’re honestly not sure who you’ve seen and not seen by the end of it. Except for one person.

Mark Lee is, once again, nowhere to be found.

You make sure to smack away hands going for seconds in order to wrap up a moderately sized portion of food for him anyways. When all of the food, save for what you’ve set aside for Mark, is gone, Taeyong offers himself and some of the others up to clean, which you and the rest of the cooking boys eagerly accept. Most of them have headed out by now, but the few remaining begrudgingly agree to the job at Taeyong’s call.

You lean against the wall idly, watching the work being done and listening to the rhythmic sound of the water running and the sponge scraping against metal. Finally, Jungwoo happens upon the wrapped plate you had prepared for your missing guest.

“Who’s this for?” He asks to the room, almost salivating at the sight of the food. Damn, that boy can eat.

“It’s for Mark. You can give it to him when he gets back.” Your words are half informative, half threatening. Jungwoo takes the hint and carefully replaces the foil covering the food.

It takes another minute for him to look back over at you, seeing you looking bleary-eyed, close to swaying onto the floor from fatigue. He steps over, patting you on the head. “Y/N, you can go rest on the couch if you want. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I might just do that,” you respond, not clarifying which part of his sentence you’re talking about. At his behest, you shuffle over to the couch. It only takes a moment for your eyes to flutter closed. The music of washing dishes lulls you quickly to sleep.

You’re not sure how long has passed by the time you stir to the sound of the front door closing. You recognize that water is no longer running and that there are only two voices left in the kitchen area. Lying there for a moment, unsure of if you should make your presence known yet, you determine that the voices belong to Jungwoo and Mark.

“Oh, Y/N made sure to grab this for you,” you hear Jungwoo say, followed by the faint crinkling of the foil covering the plate.

“She did?” Mark’s voice is surprisingly soft, warm, everything you’re not used to from him.

The voices drift closer towards you, accompanying the slip of socks against the wood floor. “Don’t act surprised. Also, she’s on the couch sleeping right now. I’ll probably wake her up in a minute so she can go home.”

“Oh.” You’re listening as hard as you can, trying to determine whatever Mark is feeling just by his tone. “Is she okay?”

Your heart beats faster and you want to squirm, ask questions, anything. You remain still.

“Just tired.” A beat of silence. “Why are you looking at her like that?”

“Dude, I just…” Mark has some sort of lightness to his voice that you’ve never heard.  “Nothing.”

“Do you think I can’t tell? Come on, I’ve known you long enough.” Jungwoo would normally be teasing saying something like that, but right now you just hear a kind of weariness that you’re entirely familiar with.

“Not as long you’ve known her.” The sentence comes out bitter, the first negativity you’ve heard from Mark all night, and Jungwoo sighs in response.

“Do what you need to do and then I’ll wake her up.”

They walk farther away. The telltale sound of the microwave opening and shutting after the foil crinkles again, followed by the beeping of the buttons and the hum of the machine, tells you that someone is heating up the food. Under the microwave ambiance, you hear what you think is plastic against plastic. The machine is stopped before it can beep shrilly. The smell of warm, reheated food fills the air briefly. There’s shuffling as Mark presumably walks.

“Night.” Jungwoo echoes Mark’s sentiment and you hear more shuffling towards you. A touch on your shoulder. You keep your eyes closed, trying to control your breathing for a moment longer. Your friend shakes you slightly. “Y/N, wake up.”

You try your best to play up your awakening act, like you hadn’t been listening to the entirety of the last conversation. Rubbing your eyes and blinking, you look up at Jungwoo. “What time is it?”

“Almost midnight. Everyone went home to sleep and study.” You get up slowly, rolling your shoulders once you’ve sat up. “I can walk you back, if you want.”

“That’s okay, it’s not a long walk.” You get to your feet, padding to the kitchen area. There, on the table, is the plastic container you’d brought Mark’s cookies in weeks ago. “Oh, that’s my container. Did Johnny find it?”

Jungwoo reaches up to ruffle his hair, looking between you and the container. “Mark did, actually.” “Huh.” Shrugging, you pick it up and make your way to the door. “Tell him thanks for me.”

“You could tell him yourself?” Jungwoo offers, looking vaguely hopeful.

You smile, but cringe at the same time. “Yeah… you know.”

He shakes his head, seeming disappointed once more. “Fine. Text me when you get back?”

“Will do.”

As you walk home, your container clutched in your arms, you think about how more pieces are being unveiled, but nothing is really making that much more sense at all.

Finals pass as they always do. You study with Yuqi for your curriculum development class. The situation from midterms repeats itself almost exactly at one point, with her calling Mark for help and you staying quiet as he talks, and the test is no harder than any of the others you had previously in the semester. You force yourself to keep your eyes on your exam and to not glance over at Mark except when you’re walking out of the classroom at the end. All you can see of him is the back of his head, his hair slightly disheveled. Idly, you wonder if you’ll get over your baseless crush if you aren’t able to look at him and mull over the problem during class anymore. You think that’s the last you’ll see of him before you run into him at an event next semester.

On the last day of finals, your group chat receives two messages from Jungwoo.

JW: END OF THE SEMESTER PARTY TOMORROW NIGHT TO CELEBRATE FINALS BEING DONE BEFORE EVERYONE LEAVES. ATTENDANCE IS MANDATORY.

JW: I don’t care if you planned a “date” with your “girlfriend,” I expect to see all of you there :))

A minute later, your phone buzzes again with an individual message from the same boy.

JW: Y/N, my lovely best friend, you’re part of the planning committee and you’re going to help me set up. Be there an hour early xoxo

You know there’s no use fighting it so, the next day, you show up to his place as expected. Jungwoo, Lucas, Yuta, and Johnny are all milling about, trying to seem busy but, honestly, there doesn’t look like there’s much to do. Some of the furniture has been moved to the side, there’s a giant mysterious tub that is partly filled with a reddish liquid that Lucas and Yuta are leaning over, and Johnny is affixing colorful lights to a wall. As soon as your shoes are off, Jungwoo is steering you to the common area.

“Y/N, you’re late!”

“I’m like ten minutes early-” You start.

“No, no, no excuses. I have an important job for you!” It takes you a moment to realize that he’s not leading you to the kitchen, but towards someone’s bedroom. “You like crafts, right?”

“I mean, I guess? I-”

“Great!” He pushes open the bedroom door, Mark’s bedroom door, and pushes you not-so-gently inside. Mark is sitting at his desk, bent over something with a look of surprise on his face. He looks cozy, dressed in a simple red t-shirt and gray sweats with circle glasses perched on his nose. “I want to hang about one hundred paper cranes around the apartment to add a little flare to the party. You can’t leave until you’re done, Mark has the paper, bye!”

He shuts the door behind him.

You and Mark stare at each other in bewilderment as you process whatever just happened. You’re in Mark’s bedroom for the first time. You’re also being actively forced to interact with him one on one for the first time. None of your friends had ever forced you to try and work out your issues until now and you’re certain that Jungwoo’s implication was that you’re not allowed to leave until you’ve talked it through. Some part of you knew he would eventually snap and force you to interact, but you always ignored that possibility. Until now.

“Um,” you start, twisting your fingers together in front of you, “he said you have the paper?”

“Yeah…” he looks back at his desk, grabbing some of the myriad of square sheets and holding them out to you. “Here.”

“Thanks.” You carefully make sure to prevent your fingers from brushing against his as you take them from him. Stepping back, you settle cross-legged on an empty spot on his floor. After you sit, you take a moment to look around. His walls have the occasional band poster plastered on them, there’s a hoodie on the floor across the room, and some of his drawers are partly open, illustrating a pretty typical college boy’s room. A couple of books are pushed to the side on his desk as he works on folding the cranes. Remembering that’s what you’re supposed to be doing, you get to work, making careful creases. Your first crane comes to life on yellow paper slightly lopsided. Good enough, you figure.

You’re in the middle of your second crane when Mark’s chair screeches quietly against the floor and he stands up, gathering his paper. To your great surprise, he sits down a few away from you and mirrors your pose. When you meet eyes with him briefly, you look away as fast as you can, returning to your crane before you can even try and read what he’s feeling. The next three cranes pass quickly with your eyes locked firmly on your work. When you dare to look up again, you find that Mark is intently watching your hands. He startles when you see him. Realizing he’s been caught, he speaks of softly. “Do you… know how to do it?”

Even when he’s the one talking quietly, looking embarrassed, you feel so small. You look down at his own paper pile, which has a few crumpled sheets surrounding it. “I can show you.” He nods and you cautiously scoot closer so that you’re side by side. As gently as you can, you explain each fold and he copies your movements. Soon, you have a relatively even green crane and he has a somewhat lopsided pink crane, very similar to your first.

“Thanks,” he says, staring at his creation, “all of the tutorials I googled weren’t making any sense, but I think I got it now.”

“No problem.” You nod, moving back to your spot across from him. Not wanting the experience to end quite yet, you think about what Jungwoo said last weekend. “Thanks for returning my container.”

He instantly knows what you’re talking about. “Thanks for-”

Before he can say any more, he stops and his expression hardens. He proceeds to look back down at his hands, making slow, purposeful folds in the paper in front of him. You frown, but do the same. A few cranes later, you can’t stop it anymore. After months, months, of him treating you like this, you can’t go one more crane without finding the truth. You throw a half-completed crane to the floor and, though the noise isn’t loud, he looks up. “Mark, what did I do?”

He seems entirely too surprised by the question, which sparks a kind of anger that you didn’t even realize you were holding in. “What?”

“What did I do! What made you act like this to me? Did I do something? Do you just hate my face? What did I do wrong?” You squeeze your knees brutally, trying to resist doing something like tearing up the few pieces of origami you had completed.

“Nothing.” His simple, one word answer only serves to make you more upset. Though he appears initially dismissive, he sees that you’re about to start shouting and quickly continues. “You really didn’t do anything!”

“Then, why? Mark, you’re making me lose my mind!” Now, you feel like you’re on the verge of crying out of frustration. So far, you’ve managed to not cry at all about this stupid boy who has largely chosen to ignore your existence, but you can feel the telltale warming of your cheeks and the pout in your lips.

“It’s not something you did! Not really.” He takes a shaky breath, appearing almost as upset as you, though there are no tears in his eyes. “It’s about Jungwoo. Please, don’t cry.”

The initial confusion helps you swallow your building tears. “If you’re upset at him, why do you have to take it out on me? I really wanted to be friends with you, Mark. I really did.”

“I wanted to be different.” Now, he’s quiet, refusing to look at you for the months of shame he’s feeling rise to the surface.

“From Jungwoo?” You’re not quite following still. You just know that, even though he’s subtly broken your heart and led you in circles over and over for the past few months, you want to know why he’s hurting and you want to stop it. Even if he hasn’t been full of kindness to you, he has been to everyone else. And you know almost for a fact that this isn’t something he’s told anyone else.

“From you.”

Pushing aside papers, crumpled partial cranes, complete cranes, you move closer to him. You’re not sure if you’re overstepping your boundaries and you still kind of feel like one wrong move will make you cry, but the yelling has left your system and your instincts say proximity will help you understand. “Will you explain it to me?”

“There was a you-shaped hole in Jungwoo’s heart ever since he had to go to college and stop spending so much time with you.” Mark’s resignation is quiet, soft-spoken, like the boy you’d heard so much about but only now had gotten to truly meet. “Whenever he came back from breaks, he would talk about you so much and about how similar you and I are and it just made me feel… it made me feel… like… I don’t know. Like I’m just replacing you while you’re not here.”

“Mark…” You’re not sure quite what to say that he hasn’t logically figured out for himself already. Maybe it would help to say the obvious anyways? “You’re not a replacement. You’re you and I’m me and he has different places for both of us.”

He lets out a puff of air. “I know that. It’s just the type of feeling that you can’t really get to go away, even when you try really hard to believe the opposite.”

“I get the feeling.” And you do. It’s like the nagging feeling that you’ve had that you did something unforgivable to upset Mark even though you were almost certain you didn’t.

“I was mean to you because at least that would make me different enough to not be replaced, I guess. It worked because you never stooped to my level to be mean back.” Though he hasn’t quite apologized, he sounds genuinely sorry.

“It worked because you couldn’t have been replaced in the first place,” you say back. You look over and he has a small smile on his face.

“That too. Also-” He stops himself, seeming conflicted. “No, it’s a bad time. A really bad time.”

That piques your curiosity. “Huh?” He’s not smiling anymore, instead looking awkwardly to his side, away from you, and drumming his fingers on the bed. “Mark, you might as well say it. Whatever it is.”

“Okay, after a few months, I realized that you weren’t going to replace me and things were fine. But, you know that thing that kids do?” You’re confused and he’s growing red, practically steaming at the ears in embarrassment, which you can see even in the dim light of the room. “So, I kept being mean because then you kept looking at me even though whenever I thought about what I said to you later, I always felt really bad-” “Mark, you’re rambling. What are you talking about?” You ungracefully interrupt him, touching his arm to get his full attention. He seems to grow even redder at your touch and suddenly exclaims his next words.

“You’re really cute!”

Slowly, his words make more sense. You try to piece them together out loud to make sure you’re understanding him correctly. “So… the thing kids do… where they’re mean to the person they like?”

He moves his head up and down in a tiny nod. Now, your face is heating up, too. Even more than it was when you were on the verge of crying. After a moment, he groans and presses his face into his hands. “Damn, I’m such an idiot. I know this is, like, what middle schoolers do, but since the beginning of the semester I’ve just been so confused, except you’ve probably been way, way more confused than me, and I didn’t even think about it, but all of our friends are probably confused, too, and-” As he jabbers, when your thoughts and feelings had been processing slowly previously, you now feel like your whole reality is crumbling. You spent the last while beating down your feelings when he’s become a pile of mush in front of you about the same problem? At this rate, he’s never going to stop rambling either. Not that you particularly want him to. It’s the most he’s directly said to you ever. And it’s adorable. What else would be adorable? You wonder, teasing him a bit before you tell him the truth. For how long he kept you hanging, you deserve to create at least some tension of your own, you figure. Just for a moment.

“- you’re probably thinking about how dumb this is and I don’t know how you’ll ever forgive me-”

You sit up straight and cross your arms over your chest. “Mark.”

He stops talking and looks at you, more panic seeming to rise in his face at the serious expression you wear. “Oh shit, I never let you talk. Y/N-”

“Mark.” He finally stops, staring at you. “I don’t forgive you.” The panic turns into sheer terror. He clearly hadn’t expected you to put it so forwardly. However, before he can say anything truly depressing, you continue. “I don’t forgive you because you haven’t actually apologized yet.”

His eyes are like tiny suns, round and bright and holding all the feeling in the universe. “I- I thought…” He looks to the side, thinking about everything he had said, and realizes that you’re right. “You’re right. Y/N…” He presses his hands together in front of him. “I’m so sorry.”

It’s probably the most succinct and straightforward he’s ever been with you, but you don’t have much time to think about that before he’s leaning forward in a full bow, pressing his forehead to the ground.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m-”

“Mark, stop!” As soon as you realize what he’s doing, you shuffle forward, putting both hands on his shoulders so you can attempt to yank him back upright. “I was joking, please stop!” He remains upraised, once again looking confused. Slowly, you move backwards about two feet to put some breathing room between you. “You don’t need to do that. I like you, too.”

One slow heartbeat passes. Then a second. You’re not sure how long the thick silence hangs between you, but the tension is so heavy that you don’t even hear any outside noise from the other boys who are supposedly getting ready for a party.

“You… what… wait, no, really?” Mark’s baffled face as he stutters back to you paired with the anxiety of the entire situation makes a laugh bubble out of your chest. He seems to be entirely at a loss. He continues to just stare at you wide-eyed, like he’s witnessing some incredible event instead of just ogling you in the dim light of his bedroom.

“Don’t look at me like that…” You can’t help but reflect some of his flustered behavior, eye contact becoming almost painful. He’s never met your eyes with such enormous positivity and cuteness before and it makes you want to run laps around the building or something. “Mark, I’m serious!”

“How could you like me back? When I was so mean to you? For months?” He begins to twist in place, trying to lean over and look at your head from multiple directions. “Did you fall down the stairs on the way over here and hit your head or something?”

“Mark!” You uncross your legs and shuffle closer on your knees, reaching out to still his movement by grasping his shoulders once again. “Please stop.” When you touch him, he freezes, still moon-eyed. After he stops moving, your hands slide down so that you can hold his. His hands are warm and stiff, just like the rest of his body.

He finally breaks eye contact, looking at where your hands are connected. “I just really don’t get it. There’s no way you like me.”

“You almost sound like you’re upset about it.” You tilt your head, smiling at him softly.

“I am!” He’s insistant, his hands holding onto yours firmly now. Though his grip is tighter, he visibly deflates, his shoulders sinking. “It’s so unfair to you. I was such an ass.”

“But you’re not. One ass-like behavior does not an ass make.” You almost confuse yourself saying it, but you continue. “It’s not about the times you were weird to me. It’s about the times you were nice to everyone else. Like when you helped Yuqi with our class. Or when you helped Donghyuck with his calc even though you aren’t even taking it with him. It sounds kind of dumb, but because of that, I knew you weren’t a bad person. Even if you were trying to be one to me sometimes.” Your thumbs run over his idly, making soothing strokes over his skin as you speak. “Still, you weren’t really all that mean to me, per se. More cold, if anything. Then, when you stopped doing so much of that, it got really confusing. I do have a question, though.”

“I’ll try to answer it, I guess.”

“Did Jungwoo really say we were that similar?”

He blinks. “Maybe once or twice? It just really stuck out to me, for some reason.”

“You’re cute.” He blushes furiously at that. Carefully, you untangle one of your hands from his and bring it up to his cheek, cupping his blazing face. “Do you want to try this? The being together thing?”

“I want to, but-” He presses his lips together, making his cheeks puff out slightly as he thinks. “I don’t know. I feel like I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve a chance with you.”

Silence sits between you for a moment. Your hand moves back down so you’re holding both of his again. “I know what you can do to make it up to me.”

His eager eyes on your face prompts you to continue. Slowly, a grin threatens to split your face in half.

“I guess you’ll have to kiss me at least once for every time you were mean to me. Maybe more than once.” Your brilliant smile changes form in the air between you and reappears as the stars in his eyes.

“Practice round? Just to make sure I get it right.” The subtle flirtatiousness of the idea that leaves his mouth absolutely appeals to you and you agree. You move as close as you possibly can, your knees pressed together, your breath on his lips and his on yours, his soft bangs grazing your forehead. The touch of his lips against yours is awkward at first, but transforms into something sweeter with a little time. Once you both pull away, it seems you have the same idea when you both go back in for a few quick pecks afterwards. Finally, when you’re content for the moment, he leans forward quickly to press a kiss to your cheek.

You figure that a return to the work of folding cranes will help calm down your rapid heart rate, but every time you steal a glance at Mark, the butterflies return. You know for a fact that he keeps looking at you, too. By the time the noise level outside of the room increases and music is being blasted through the apartment, you’re nowhere near being done with all one hundred cranes, but both of you are sure your mutual friend doesn’t actually care about that. Together, you emerge from his room. You don’t answer any prodding questions from your friends for most of the time you’re mingling, though you’re pretty sure that a good number of them see him sneaking kisses at least once or twice.

Some of them definitely see when you sneak off to his room again before the clock has even turned to midnight. At the same time, you could be damned if you really care.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Prey for You | Part 5

Genre: Smut, angst.

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary: After finding out what Chan really thinks of you, you’re determined to never let him in again. But he finds a way to sneak back into your bed. 

Warnings: super unhealthy relationship, dom!reader, sub!chan, milking but not the prostate way, use of a fleshlight, cumplay?, degradation, enemies to lovers,  wolf!hybrid chan, fox!hybrid reader

A/N: this is a major risk cuz i don’t even know if I’m done editing this lol so if its a mess let me know and I might fix it lmao. the gif is for the bath scene btw uwu

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 Part 5, Part 6

You wish you could immediately move out and go someplace else, away from Chan and the constant reminder that you’re not good enough for him. But if it was that easy, you wouldn’t have had to move in with him in the first place. Now you were forced to live with the man who everyday reminded you of what you could’ve had if only you weren’t what you were.

For his part, Chan tries to apologize to you, but what use is his apology now that you have confirmation of what he really thinks of you? That doesn’t mean he has let up, though.

“Hey, baby.” The man in question greets you as soon as you come back from a lecture. “I wanna talk to you.”

You can’t keep going through this. Every time he tries to justify himself--to explain why it’s a good idea that people don’t know about you-- it just cements in your mind that he’ll never see you as someone worthy of him, of anyone. So you silently move past him, walking towards your room and hoping that the severe look you have on your face will discourage him this time. But it doesn’t, and he follows you into your room.

“I have something to tell you.” He announces and you turn to face him with an agitated sigh. “Then say it and go.”

You hope this will be quick, at least, but your hope is dashed when he crosses the distance between you and wraps his arms around you, pulling you towards his body. You open your mouth to curse him out, but the smell of him floods your nose with a spicier tinge to it than usual.  

“Oh.” Your mouth gapes in realization. “You’re going into heat.”

He nods, leaning down to nuzzle your nose with his before going further, trying to catch your lips in a kiss, but his lips barely brush yours before you lean back, your hands pushing your body as far away from his as the embrace can allow. “So? That doesn’t change anything.”

“The hell it does.” He grimaces, not pleased with your reaction. “I need you.” 

“No, you need to get laid. You could get that from any of your groupies.” 

He scoffs in disbelief, “So you want me to go fuck other women?” 

You realize how far you’ve let things go when just hearing him say it out loud makes you want to fold in on yourself to protect your heart from getting torn to pieces. You shouldn’t have let things get this far. There is a reason you were so cautious before and you’ve gone and fucked yourself over at the first sign of someone being nice to you, of someone showing you the slightest hint of trust and affection. And you thought you were strong.

“I don’t care what you do.” You lie through your teeth, wishing to at least keep the knowledge of your shameful demise from him. “We’re not together.”

That angers him the most. “Yes, we are!” 

“Really? Because no one else seems to know.” You seethe, and he finally pulls away from you, infuriated at you as if you’re the one being ridiculous. “You’ve seen how my friends reacted. How do you think everyone else is gonna react?”

“That shouldn’t matter!”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t have anything to lose.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe how full of yourself you are! You think I would be so damn honored if people knew I am with the pride of predators that you are?”

“Stop fucking saying that! Do I need to be a mindless brute to earn your respect as a predator?”

“No, but this--” You gesture vaguely towards him with distaste, “certainly isn’t earning my respect.” 

He takes a deep breath, face red and aggression rolling off of him in waves. You wonder if he’ll attack you like last time. But he just grits through his teeth, looking away, “What am supposed to do with my heat?”

“I don’t care.” You mutter, and his eyes snap to you, a little wild with fury. 

You hold your breath as he starts walking towards you, a muscle ticking in his jaw, and you imagine what it would be like if he were to snap it around your neck. Would it hurt more or less than you’re hurting right now? But instead of tearing your throat out, he walks past you and out of the room.

_____________________________

Chan has been gone for an hour now. And your mind was running wild with images of him fucking someone else. You feel stupid. You’re the one who sent him away, but what were you supposed to do? Give yourself completely to him until he has exhausted his need of you and throws you away? He’s made his stance pretty clear, and you’d be pathetic to let him use you like that. 

You're busy beating yourself when you hear the front door open, and you almost jump out of your skin. You whip around towards it, your treacherous affection hoping to see that Chan has changed his mind and came back to you, but instead your all too familiar bitterness takes hold of you as you see him stumbling into the apartment with a girl, their lips locked and their hands all over each other. 

You suppose there must be some truth to the phrase “if looks could kill” because the girl--a bunny hybrid--pulls away from Chan and her big eyes flit around the living room anxiously until they land on you. She squeaks when your eyes meek and she fearfully latches onto Chan’s arm. “You d-didn’t tell me you had a-a roommate.” 

Chan on the other hand is straight up grinning as he sees the murderous look on your face. He bends down to whisper something in the girl's ear that you can’t hear, but judging by the motion of his head and the direction she looks, you know he’s telling her where his bedroom is and to go wait for him there. She gives you one last nervous look before she scurries down the hall and disappears. When she’s gone, he struts over to you like a peacock showing off his feathers. 

“You look upset, baby girl.” 

“You’re a fucking bastard.” You spit out. He smiles wider and leans over you, pushing his hands against the back of the couch and caging you between them. "Last chance, fox. You gonna be a good girl for me or would you rather I go in there and fuck that pretty thing? I know she’ll be more than happy to do anything to please me."

You push him away roughly. He staggers for a second but quickly holds himself upright, grabbing your hands in a painful grip. “That wasn’t so nice, fox.” He grunts, pulling one of your hands towards his crotch and making you feel how hard he is. “But I’ll give you one more chance.” 

“You’re such a fucking slut.” You scowl, roughly palming his dick through his pants. He seems to love it though, biting his lip as a groan slips out of him. Vexed, you pull your hand back and get up, leaning up to hiss at him, "Get her the fuck out and come to my room."

His triumphant smile is met with a disgusted sneer from you. "You think you've won?"

“Kinda, yeah.” He laughs cockily. 

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” 

_______________________

He quickly loses his smile when he steps into your room and sees the items you have on the bed--a fleshlight and a bottle of lube. He gives you a disheartened look. “No, no, this isn’t what we agreed on.”

“We didn’t agree on anything.” 

"I'm going into heat. I need to fuck you not some toy!"

“You can leave if you want. See if the little bunny isn’t too hurt to let you fuck her.” You challenge, confident that he will take anything you give him at this point.  

Groaning in defeat, he slumps down on the bed, and you smile knowingly, ordering him to undress for you. He obliges, although not without a sour pout. When he's naked, you gesture for him to come sit with you on the bed, back pressed against your chest as he settles between your legs. 

He is hard despite his protests, and you open the bottle of lube and squirt some of it on his cock, putting it down then wrapping your hand around him and pumping his cock slowly, just spreading the lube all over it. 

Grabbing the fleshlight with your other hand, you bring it to his lips. "Use your mouth, puppy." 

He groans, reluctantly peeking his tongue out to lap at the toy. You tsk in disapproval. “You’ll never get it wet this way. You’re really big, puppy.” You drawl, dragging your fist tightly up his long member and extracting a deep groan out of him. “Wouldn’t want your cock to get hurt when I fuck you with it dry now, would you?” 

He gives you a dissatisfied grunt but he pushes his tongue out more, starting to lick the opening of the fleshlight more deliberately now. “Good boy. Get it all wet so I can use it to milk every last drop of cum from your balls. Maybe then you’ll behave.” 

His hips buck up into your hands and he starts pushing his tongue in and out of the toy, the wet sounds of his tongue working the fleshlight filling up the room. 

"You're so pathetic. Eating out this silicone pussy so I can fuck you with it instead of sticking your dick in some bitch's warm pussy. All because I want you to, right?" You whisper in his ear before pressing soft kisses down his neck. His breath hitches and he pushes his hips up into your hands again, needing more than the gentle touches you were giving him. 

"You'll do anything if I ask you to." You state, pulling the toy away from his mouth, breaking off the tiny translucent strings of saliva that connect them. Letting go of his dick, you grab the lube again and order him to put two fingers out for you. You squeeze some of the lube onto them then bring the fleshlight to his hand. “Finger your pussy open, baby.” 

“You’re driving me crazy.” He groans as pushes his fingers into the toy, and you laugh. “Aw, is this frustrating for you, puppy?” 

“Yes.” He hisses, his fingers fucking in and out of the toy aggressively. 

“Good.” 

When you’re satisfied with how slick the toy has gotten, and how needy he’s become, you order him to stop and line it over his cock. “Ready, puppy?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be for a fucking toy.” He swears and you smile, plunging the fleshlight over his cock. You don’t need his enthusiasm to do what you want as with a few jerks of the toy, he’s already melting back onto you and moaning out his pleasure, his impending heat already working him to the edge of insanity. 

“See? You’re nothing but a horny dog trying to get off.” You use your free hand to massage his lower belly just above the base of his member, stoking the fire building there. “I should lock your dirty cock in a cage during this heat so you won’t go around humping and fucking whoever you can get your hands on. Only let you out when I want to use you.”

“Then use me, please. Take what you need from me.” He moans even louder, his back arching and his hips fucking up into the toy. “Sit on my face and make me eat you out until I can't breathe or sit on my cock and ride me until you've had your fill.” "And give you the satisfaction of giving me pleasure? No, you don't even deserve that. You'll just sit here and take everything like the selfish dog you are." You slide your hand up his body, brushing your fingers over his nipple. He instantly jerks and tries to close his legs but a harsh growl in his ear is all that's needed for him to swing his legs back open. 

“See? You’re already gonna cum, aren’t you?” You mock, reaching your hand out to grab the small glass cup you left at the bedside table and placing it under his cock.

“What are you doing?” Chan sputters, confused and embarrassed. 

“Wanna see how much cum you have for me, puppy. Show me how bad you need me.” You coax, taking the fleshlight off and using your hand instead, stroking his cock from bottom to top and pointing the leaking tip of it inside the cup. 

“Ahh---that’s filthy.” Chan protests but his eyes are glued to the scene and his moans get higher in pitch as you both prepare for him to orgasm. Your hands continue their rhythmic pumping as spurts of white cum start shooting into the glass, almost as if you’re manually squeezing them out of his dick. 

“That’s a lot of cum. Such a horny dog.” You murmur, taking in the amount of cum collecting in the glass, and he shudders, transfixed by the way your hand is milking every last drop from him. “And you’re wasting all of it. What a useless pup. Should’ve never been a wolf.” 

He growls and lays his head back on your shoulder to look up at you.You think he’s going to argue with you about what you just said but instead he stares at you with his puppy eyes and breathlessly asks for a kiss. 

You could refuse him, of course. He doesn’t deserve it. But you want it too, his plump, red lips too enticing to pass up, and so you close the distance between you and capture them in a lazy kiss. But you barely start before he’s squirming and whining against you. 

“I suppose you still have more to give me.” You murmur against his lips and start moving your hand over his dick again--the wet sounds from your lips against his and your hands over his dick soon filling up the room.

“Such a big boy.” You marvel as you pull away from his slick lips to gaze at his dick, his breath stuttering when you swipe your palm over the leaking head. “But you won’t even get to use it because you’re a dumb, selfish pup.” 

He blinks tiredly at you, apologetically, but you’ll have none of it. 

“Ready to fuck your toy again?” You ask haughtily, and he sighs, nodding defeatedly. 

“There you go.” You put the toy back on him. 

You’re surprised by how vocal he’s being. He’s the loudest you’ve ever heard him. You guess the heat was getting to him as he doesn’t even try to hold back, his moans lusty and shameless. He’s so consumed by the pleasure taking over his body like he’d die without it, and honestly it’s affecting you more than you’d like to admit, your panties sticking to your heat uncomfortably.

"You sound like a whore getting fucked.” You scoff, pumping his dick faster with the fleshlight. "Are you that desperate?" 

“Hmm--yes! Please...fuck me--” He cries, easily giving in as his hips jolt up. “Need your hot---ahh--wet pussy around my cock. You can milk me all you want then. I’ll be all yours. My cum is all yours.” 

“But I don't need to do that when you’re already being such an easy slut for me.” You move your hand up to his chest again, rubbing and teasing his nipples.

"But you want me--" He gasps as you pinch his nipple in retaliation. "Fuck me, please. Need your pussy--oh god.”

“You don’t need it, dumb puppy. You’re cumming fine enough in this toy.” You put your lips to his neck, sucking on the sensitive spot under his ear then laving over it with your tongue. 

“But I want more.. And I know you want---ahhh, fuck--fuck!" He cries out, looking down in time to watch himself empty into the cup again. And like last time, you make sure to catch every last drop. 

“Hah--please.” He pants, leaning back to look up at you, his eyes focusing on your lips. “Kiss...” 

You sigh, kissing him. He doesn’t have to be instructed in this, his lips opening automatically and his tongue pushing needily into your mouth. As his panting moans pick up again, you pull away. 

“Please fuck me.” He draws the request out, pleading. 

“No.”

He whimpers at your definite tone and huffs. “Then let me see you at least.”

“See me?” You quirk an eyebrow at him and he nods earnestly. "Wanna see you."

You move out from behind him and settle between his open legs. “Here I am.” 

But his gaze isn’t on your face, it’s glued to your hard nipples poking through your tank top in arousal. 

“Ah, you wanna see my tits, puppy? Will that help you cum more for me?” You pull your tank top over your breasts, exposing them. He whines at once, struggling to stay in his spot, his tongue swiping over his lips hungrily. 

"What is it? Wanna put suck on them, puppy?" You tease, sitting up and leaning your chest over his face, your breasts just out of reach of his mouth. 

“Yes! Please, can I?” He begs, and just his breath brushing against your nipples is enough to have you rubbing your legs together. You don’t even want to imagine how fast you’d cum if he put his hands on you.

Tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, you push his face into your chest. “Go ahead. You better make it worth my while.”

His mouth immediately latches onto one of your nipples, lathering it with saliva and sucking on it eagerly.

"Fuck, that's a good boy." You hiss, grabbing the fleshlight and pulling it over his cock, not wanting to get distracted. But the faster you work him, the more eagerly he kisses and sucks at your tits, his tongue hungrily licking all over your chest and his teeth insistently nibbling at the skin. 

It's so good the friction you’re getting from rubbing your legs together is enough to make your orgasm build up. You're both impressed and mortified that you can feel yourself getting close just from jerking him off and having him suck on your tits. But you can't dwell on it too much, too busy trying to get him and yourself off. 

You get what you want when he flicks your nipple with his tongue then wraps his lips around your entire areola and sucks harshly, ripping the orgasm from your body. Gasping loudly, your movement over his cock stops and your head drops down. But Chan quickly reaches out and grabs your jaw, pulling your head against his so he can see your face as you cum, the both of you wide-eyed and breathing heavily as the orgasm shakes your body. 

"Fuck." Chan grunt, his hips bucking up into the stationary fleshlight as moans flow through his spit-slick lips. You can tell he’s almost there and you pull the fleshlight away and reach for the cup but it's too late, his seed shooting out and landing on your belly, marking you with it and trailing down slowly towards your pussy.

"Shit, sorry." He groans apologetically but he’s too weak to do anything about it. Exhausted from the three back to back orgasms, he falls back to the bed, boneless. 

You sigh, setting the cup down and getting up to grab some tissues to clean yourself up. When you walk back to the bed, you find Chan struggling to keep his eyes open. 

“No, no, get up. Come on, you need to wash off.” You tug on his arm, but his body is too heavy to budge. 

“I’m too tired.” He whines like a puppy trying to get out of a bath.

“You won't have to do anything. You just sit in the tub and I’ll clean you up.” You try to pull at his arm again but he just buries his face in the pillows and ignores you. You sigh, running your hand over his skin patiently. “Come one, don’t you want a nice, warm bath? Wouldn’t it feel good after all this effort? It’ll loosen your muscles right up.”

He lifts his head up, regarding you, and you brush the hair out of his face softly. “Come on, puppy. I’m tired too.” 

He finally complies, getting up and letting you tug him towards the bathroom. You don’t give him a real bath, you just make him sit in the tub while you scrub and clean his body, letting the warm water stream over him and wash the soap and tension away. 

By the time you’re done, he was starting to doze off again. He looked really cute like that, his eyes almost all the way closed and his lips in a slight pout as he tries to keep his head up. 

You pat his cheek gently, drawing his attention towards you. “Get up, pup. We’re done.” 

He nods groggily and slowly stands up. You dry him off with a towel then lead him to your bed, telling him to wait a minute while you go grab something for him to wear. You know he likes sleeping in only his boxers so you just grab that and come back, handing it to him to put on while you go grab a towel for yourself. 

“I’m gonna go take a shower. I want you back in your room when I’m back.” 

Your words jolt him awake, his eyes wide and alert suddenly. “What? But I thought...” He trails off, looking at you as if asking for you to help finish his sentence. Which is just ridiculous, you don’t, of course. You stare at him with a blank face until he continues in a small voice, "I was hoping I could stay."

“What gave you that impression? You thought you could manipulate me into fucking you and then everything will be fine and dandy?”

“No. I just really miss you.” He states helplessly, and tears spring up into your eyes at that. 

I miss you. You’re special. These are all meaningless words that just serve to put another stab in your heart and remind you of what you’ll never actually have from him. 

“I don’t have the energy for this right now.” You say weakly, turning your back around and heading for the door quickly. “Just leave.”

As soon as you get into the shower, you start to sob. You feel like shit. You've gone through so much abuse and ridicule before but this has to be the worst you’ve ever felt about yourself, for yourself. You have so easily given into him. He’s got you where he wants you again, and he didn't even have to compromise anything to get it. You just walked right into it like an idiot, and now you fear that you feel too much for him to get out of this intact. 

You stay a long time in the shower, waiting for your tears to dry up, but they never do. All you can manage is to get them to stop streaming down your face like the water does, holding them in your eyes and hoping the long shower allowed enough time for Chan’s scent to disperse from your room. 

But when you walk back into your room, towel wrapped snugly around your body, you find Chan himself still in there, sitting on top of your newly made bed. And just like that, the tears fight to be shed again.  

“I changed the sheets.” He pipes up, looking at you for approval. 

“Oh, you changed the sheets? I guess I have to let you stay now.” Your retort is weak and hoarse.  “Baby…” He stands up and walks over to you, reaching a hand out to tug at your own gently, but you quickly snatch it back and take a step away from him, 

”Don’t.”  Your voice cracks and you turn away in a panic, not wanting him to see you shed any tears for him. But it's useless as he easily turns you back towards him and wraps you in his strong arms. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks like he genuinely cares.

"You're what's wrong!" You sob, trying and failing to to get out of his embrace.

“Don’t say that.” He pleads, wiping your tears and kissing each of your cheeks despite your struggles. “Please, don’t cry.” 

“How can I not when I’ve fallen in love with you.” You scream the words at him, hoping that the sheer heartache your voice contains will cast him away from you. And for a moment it seems to work as he staggers at your confession, his face a look of pure shock. This is it. He'll finally take pity on you and stop messing with you. Or at the very least he'll realize that this game isn't fun anymore and he'll back off.

“Just leave me be, please.” You plead, trying once again to pull away from his now loose embrace, but as soon as you move, he snaps out of it, his grip tightening around you even more. Pushing his forehead against yours, he breathes out, “I love you too.” 

Before you can think about it, you raise your hands to scratch at him, anything to defend yourself from the continuous torment he’s subjecting you to. You only manage a weak swipe at his cheek before he has both your wrists in his grip and pinned to your back. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” He curses, the tiniest bit of blood seeping out of the fresh wound in the middle of his cheek.

“Stop playing with me!”

"I'm not playing! I love you." He shouts back at you, and his words hurt like a dozen pellets piercing your skin. Because either he’s sick enough to lie about this, to continue playing with you despite how precarious your position has become, or he really does love you but his disgust at you is so great that it doesn’t matter.

"How can you say that when you’re ashamed of being with me? How can that be love?" 

"You're one to talk! I'm always the one trying not to lose you and you're always the one pushing me away. What does it matter whether people know about us or not when you’re fucking crying at the mere fact that you fell in love with me?"

“I'm crying because the man I fell in love with is so ashamed of loving me that he won't even defend me in front of his friends!"

"And if I do? If I tell everyone that I love you and take all the damage and then you inevitably leave me?" He accuses, so sure of his words like he knows it will happen. All the fight leaves your body at that. He’ll never trust you, will he? 

"Why are you assuming the worst of me?" You snivel weakly.

"No, you can’t pull that shit!” He rages, “You don’t have the right to treat me like shit and then cry about the fact that I don’t trust you! I have every right to be scared that in a couple of months you'll look at me and remember how much of an impotent predator you think I am and drop me."

“Then why do you keep me around?” You ask in a small voice, scared of the answer. 

“I… I don’t know.” 

You laugh bitterly, but Chan stays silent, rooted to his spot and waiting for you to do or say something. You can’t handle this anymore, not now at least. Every time the two of you talk, you hate yourself more. You need to get away from him or you’re afraid you’ll collapse into a void of self-loathing you’ll never be able to pull yourself out from. 

Sighing wearily, you slowly shuffle to your closet. You drop your towel and put on some underwear before you start pulling on a pair of pants and a shirt. 

“What are you doing?” Chan fumes as he realises what you’re doing. “Are you going out?!”  

You stay silent as you pick out some shoes and put them on.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You can’t go out right now. We’re talking!” 

You ignore him once again, walking towards the door. He tries to intercept you, face red, “You’re not leaving!”

“Watch me.” You say coldly, going around him and walking out the door. 

___________

You didn’t have a place in mind when you went out. You just needed to breathe, to get some fresh air. But you soon find that too sobering, the fresh wounds hurting too much for you to feel them right now. So you decided you’ll do the opposite, stop feeling. And how do you do that? Everyone’s favorite poison. And so you head to the nearest bar you can find.

You’re barely finished with your first glass when you hear a deep voice digging its way through your fuzzy hearing. “Hey! You’re that fox from Chan’s place, right?” 

Your heart stops at the sound of his name, and you stare at the empty glass in your hand, determined to ignore the intruder until he goes away. But he just plops down into the seat across from you, exclaiming ever louder. “It is you!”

You stay silent, and he carries on, thinking you don’t recognize him. “I’m Felix by the way if you don’t remember.”

You still don’t give him any response, but he doesn’t give up. "I'm sorry, I didn't really get your name last time..." He trails off, looking at you expectantly. Your gaze shifts to him and he falters when he sees the dead look in your eyes.

After some pause, he drops the cheery look from his face, and says somberly, "Look, I know you probably hate us all because of what happened, and you have every right to, but I just want to apologize for what my friends said. They're really good people but they can be a lot misguided."

You snort mockingly at that, but he seems encouraged that he managed to get any form of response from you, and he continues on. “But you probably don’t want to hear that right now. Anyway, I just really wanted to apologize. I know how it feels to be distrusted because of what you are.” 

That gets your attention, and you look at him closely, realizing he is a cat hybrid. They get the same lot as fox hybrids, albeit less severe if the fact that he’s friends with Chan and his pack is anything to go by. 

“But you’re friends with them.” You comment suspiciously. 

“Well, it’s because Chan took me under his wing. When he trusted me, the others did too. I kind of owe him a lot.” 

“Ah, yes, the Perfect Chan agenda.”

“He’s definitely not perfect." He clarifies quickly, and you quirk an eyebrow at that. "Don't get me wrong, I love him like a brother but he can be really stubborn sometimes. He can never let himself be wrong about anything ever or else he'll start spiraling."

“No offense--umm, Felix, was it?” You ask and he nods eagerly, happy that you're talking. “If I wanted to chat about Chan I would've talked to one of his groupies.” 

His face blooms red and he sputters sheepishly, “You're right! I just wanted to apologize.”

“Apology accepted.” You say dismissively, waving him away, but he stays, and you give him an exasperated look.

He breaks eye contact, his gaze dropping to his hands.Fiddling with the cup in his hands, he mumbles quietly, “Can I hang out with you for a bit?”

“Now why would I say yes to that?”

He thinks for a while, a pout on his face as he concentrates on finding an answer that will satisfy you. You can see the exact moment an idea pops into his head as his face lights up with a mischievous smile. “Because it will piss off Chan?”

“A kitty after my own heart.” You reach out to pet his head, chuckling at the blush on his pretty face intensifies at that

 ____________________________________

Felix is something else, you’ll give him that. He’s sweet and cute and he radiates so much warmth and happiness. He’s different from the usual cat hybrids who are cold and aloof even if secretly affectionate. You had wondered at the beginning how a cat hybrid can be so close to Chan and his pack, but it took a whole five minutes of being in his company for you to see it. Simply, Felix exuded a pure, happy energy that was infectious to everyone around him. Even you, down in the dumps and heartbroken, were starting to feel a little better in his presence. 

Or maybe that was the inordinate amount of alcohol you have managed to consume throughout the time you spent together. And you guess it was quite some time because as soon as you stumble through the door to Chan’s apartment, the wolf is on you like a dog with a bone. 

“Where were you? I was worried sick!”

“Now that’s a funny joke.” You slur, laughing stupidly.

“Are you drunk?” He bellows, sniffing you out. Then he suddenly freezes, a low growl rumbling out of him as he grabs you roughly, glaring at you with wild eyes. "Why do you smell like Felix?"

"I met up with him." You shrug, maddeningly jubilant to the livid wolf. 

“What?” 

“I. met. up. with. him” You repeat slowly.

"You went out drinking with Felix?" You grits carefully, and you swear you can almost see his eyes grow dark and menacing. But you’re too blissfully drunk to heed the warning storming inside their depths. 

"Sure did." You reply nonchalantly. 

"I told you…” He says slowly, lips curling around the words and infusing them with a cold fury.  “to stay away from my friends."

"We were just talking." You insist stubbornly, needing him to see for once that you’re not the twisted monster he thinks you are. “He said he’d like to be friends.” 

Chan’s grip tightens even more around your arms, so much so that it pierces through the foggy numbness of your intoxication. The pain brings about a sense of sobriety, and your breath stills as you become aware of much danger you were in right now. 

But Chan wasn’t going to hurt you. Not physically at least. 

You feel the blood return to your arms as he lets you go, a look of revulsion and contempt vilifying his face more than anger or violence ever could. 

“Stay away from him.” He commands roughly, “I actually care about him.”

Any numbness you had gotten from the alcohol suddenly leaves your body and you crash, feeling all the pain all at once. 

I actually care about him. Unlike you. And you’ll sully him if you get close. 

“This--” You gesture between the both of you, face completely devoid of emotion. "is over."

________________________

A/N: you guys still want them together? because I think the next chapter will be the last. i mean it won’t matter anyway cuz I’m pretty settled on the ending lol but I’d still like to know

[bobohu4eva]

Pink Lace - Chapter 2

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn

Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, eventual smut

Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banan @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey​ @deligxt​ 

Masterlist

“God I’m so fucking sick of this semester and it hasn’t even started yet.” You complained, lying on your roommates bed flipping through one of your textbooks for the upcoming semester.

“Relax, at least you have money and you’re smart y/n, you’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re an arts major, not an architecture student.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Nothing! It’s just different!”

“Mhm sure I’d love to see you paint a landscape or sculpt something.”

You gave your best friend a dirty look before focusing your attention back to the textbook.

Mia had been your best friend since 2nd grade and she had lived with you since you were 18. She had always been the more artistic one, doing dance from a young age and taking all sorts of art classes whenever she could. Her overall view on life was quite different from yours. She saw the world through the lens of an artist, and an optimist. 

Her views on relationships were very different from yours as well, with quite the laundry list of exes, each one more thrilling than the last. You honestly loved hearing all her stories and found it impressive how well she seemed to have the dating game figured out. You on the other hand, could count the men you’d slept with on one hand, and aren’t one for parties or anything like that, preferring to stay home and study or watch a drama.

With your dislike for parties and dating apps, you stayed pretty single. Not that you minded, being too swamped with schoolwork to make time for a real boyfriend anyway. Sometimes you thought about going out to parties and trying to find yourself a hookup but you never followed through, not wanting that kind of intimacy with a stranger.

“Did you see Baekhyun again last night?” She asked casually, knowing all about your work. Although for her, asking if he was there really meant ‘are you going to buy me my lunches again this week’.

“Yeah...” You contemplated for a second if you should tell her, but you quickly decided to just say it, not wanting to keep things from your best friend. “I told him my name. Like my real name.”

Her eyes went wide, definitely surprised by your confession. “Wait seriously? Why?”

“He asked and I just couldn’t tell him no.” You replied, much quieter now.

“Well it’s your choice but that really wasn’t a good idea, he’s already way too into you and now he’s just gonna think he actually has a shot with you.”

“Yeah I know I just.. I can’t explain it but it felt different.”

“He’s just another pervy dude who wants tits in his face! There’s a reason he pays you.” 

“He’s not a perv! He’s still a guy of course, but he’s sweet.” You felt a twinge of embarrassment at how quick you were to defend him. 

“All that matters about this guy is that he gives you nearly a thousand dollars every night he sees you, right?” You nodded. “You don’t want him thinking he doesn’t have to pay you anymore do you?”

You stayed quiet, because you knew she was right. This was the nature of your relationship with Baekhyun, and straying from what you had with him now just meant opening yourself up to the possibility of losing a lot of money, money you needed.

You were kind of surprised by how opposite you and Mia seemed to be in this situation. Usually it was you talking to her about boys, telling her not to make reckless decisions.

“Yeah you’re right. I’m gonna go to bed. I have classes starting pretty early tomorrow.” You told her as you left her room for yours.

You needed to sleep, but your conversation with her left you with the same uneasy feeling you’d had after last seeing Baekhyun. The longer you stared at your ceiling, the more you felt like you did the right thing telling him your name. He really liked you and it probably made his day, and you knew he wouldn’t use it against you in any way. He was too nice for that.  What’s the worst that could happen, right?

~

The first few classes of the day had gone okay. Your physics and statics professors didn’t seem like complete assholes, and you only had one class left for the day, philosophy. Part of you was annoyed you even needed to take the class, since you wouldn’t exactly consider yourself a very “deep” person, but you figured it would be easy enough.

Being the good student you are, you decided to get there early to get a seat close to the front to make a good impression on the professor. When you arrived the previous class hadn’t finished yet, so you sat down on a bench nearby and opened a book.

“Hey, are you waiting for philosophy class too?”

You looked up to see a rather cute boy, books in hand, looking down at you with a smile on his face.

“Yeah, do I know you?”

“I’m Lucas.” He sticks his hand out for you to shake, so you do and he sits down next to you. “Are you a philosophy major?”

“No, architecture. And I’m y/n.”

“Damn you must be really smart then! I’m a business major.”

“You also just have to take this for the humanities credit?”

“Yeah, but I’m excited, the professor seems cool I met him earlier today.”

“Really? What’s he like?”

“Super cool and smart, kind of young, but like a genius.”

“Yeah well hopefully he’s nice too. Especially with grading”

Lucas laughed and you noticed the previous class leaving the lecture hall so you got up and made your way in, sitting down in the second row, Lucas sitting down next to you. The professor hadn’t showed up yet so you turned to Lucas again, making small talk to pass the time. As you talked to him you realized he was actually fairly funny, although not the smartest. You had to admit though, he was pretty damn handsome. He had to be an entire foot taller than you, with beautifully tanned skin and a smile that would make any girl weak in the knees. 

“Are you going to any parties this weekend? I’m going to one at my buddies frat Friday night if you wanna be my date.”

You frowned “Sorry, I don’t really do parties.”

You could see the disappointment on his face. “Damn really? Well if ever change your mind you can text me.” He said as he scribbled something down and slid a piece of paper with his number on it across the table to you.

You internally cringed, but took the paper anyway and give him a small thank you. You weren’t lying when you said you didn’t do parties, but you still felt bad shooting him down, especially since he was actually pretty cute. That was the problem with you and dating in college. No matter how cute a guy was, what they wanted and what you wanted rarely added up well.

You’d bought your textbook already so you decide to get back to looking through it before class started. You also just wanted an excuse to stop talking to Lucas. You got lost in the book, finding yourself surprisingly interested in different moral theories and types of ethical arguments.

“Ahem.”

You heard who you assumed to be your professor and looked up, not expecting to see Baekhyun of all people smirking back at you. Fucking smirking.

You almost choked on air when you realized who you were looking at. Not only was it Baekhyun of all people standing in front of you, but he was wearing a fitted white button down and slacks with his hair styled out of his face, and glasses abandoned on his podium. He looked hot. You felt your face getting warmer and warmer.

“Hey you ok?” Lucas asked, having seen your reaction to Professor Byun.

“What? Yeah I’m totally fine why wouldn’t I be?” You responded, too loudly. Loudly enough that Baekhyun noticed. And laughed.

“Do you guys know each other or something?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You told him while giving Baekhyun your best version of a death stare, but he didn’t seem to care.

“Hello everyone I’m Mr. Byun, I’ll be your philosophies of life professor.” He said, starting the lecture with a fairly neutral look on his face, although you noticed him looking in your direction often, and smiling.

You had to admit, he was smart. Not that you were particularly surprised, he seemed fairly intelligent from the conversations you’d had with him at work, but granted those weren’t always the most intellectual conversations either. The way he explained what you had read in the book was both interesting and informative, but you couldn’t focus on him talk about Socrates when just two days earlier you had been grinding on him, and had even let him touch you. Especially when he looked like that now. Your whole body felt hot and you knew you were probably as red as a tomato. 

You tried your best to focus on what he was saying for the sake of your grade, but he wasn’t making it easier by the way he kept looking in your direction with that smile on his face. Now, often looking you directly in the eyes with the same intensity from the club. Only this time, while sounding incredibly, frustratingly, smart.

As much as you tried, you couldn’t focus. Not when you had to process the fact that Baekhyun was now your college professor, and knew way more about you and your life than you ever wanted him to. You were hit with the realization that he now also knew you’d lied to him about nearly everything.

You became painfully aware of how you looked compared to him. While he looked exquisite in his business-casual attire, you had barely rolled out of bed in time to throw your hair up in a messy top knot and apply some mascara. Your hoodie and leggings combo wasn’t your best either, and you started feeling more and more embarrassed by the second.

Every other time Baekhyun had seen you, you had been dressed in expensive lingerie with your hair and makeup done perfectly. You had always been the one in control of the situation. Now, you only felt small and underdressed.

After what felt like hours he finally ended the lecture. But he wasn’t done yet, not with you at least. And you could tell by the way he was staring at you, smile now gone and replaced with a much more serious  expression. As soon as he dismissed everyone to leave, you frantically started shoving your things in your bag, trying to get out of the room as quickly as possible but your hands were shaking so badly that you ended up fumbling and dropping most of what you’d been holding.

“Shit, shit, shit” you whispered to yourself as you desperately reached for your belongings, feeling Baekhyun’s eyes on you, but it was too late and right after you saw the last student leave the lecture hall, you heard your name.

“Y/n come here.”

Not really having the option to say no, you walked up to him, trying to look as annoyed as possible.

“You look cute like this, without the heels and everything. I like it.” He said, now smiling down at you. Despite the mocking feeling of the statement, his face was soft now, the smug smirk from earlier gone.

Baekhyun was absolutely thrilled. The girl he usually looked forward to seeing all week long was right in front of him now, within reach. And he’d get to you see you much more now as well. He had to keep himself from looking too happy since he knew you weren’t in nearly as good a mood as him.  

You’d never wanted to disappear as badly as you did in that moment. Here, Baekhyun was the one with all the power, and you despised it. He was the one all dressed up and making all the rules. You felt small and embarrassed, having little choice but to listen to whatever it is was he had to say to you. You hated the feeling.

“What do you want?”

“You lied to me.” His face didn’t look angry at all, just blank, void of any emotion.

“Why are you making me do this can I please just leave?” You asked, hoping he’d have some sympathy but you have no such luck.

No answer

“Baekhyun, please. Just let me go home and switch into a different section.” You look at him with pleading eyes, wanting this nightmare to be over.

His face hardened, now slightly annoyed.

“Professor Byun, and I’m afraid you’re stuck with me y/n. I’m the only one teaching this class this semester.”

“Well, fuck” You muttered, looking down at the floor. 

“Is that how you speak to your professors?” 

Your head snapped back up, and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“You know, y/n, I’m not mad that you lied to me. I should’ve assumed as much. After you told me your name and I saw it on the attendance sheet I had been hoping you’d been lying.” He still looked annoyed, but his face had softened a bit. 

“Oh fuck off Baekhyun”

Immediately his expression went sour again, jaw clenched and brown furrowed.

“Here it’s Mr. Byun. And don’t use that language with me again, I’m serious.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“What do you mean? I didn’t know you’d be here. It was just yesterday that I even realized your name was on my roll sheet.” 

He had a point. He couldn’t have planned this, you’d signed up for the class months ago and he didn’t even know your name until two nights ago.

“Why aren’t you freaking out then? Shouldn’t you be worried about having me in your class?”

He only let out a chuckle.

“Why would I be worried? As far as I’m concerned this only means I get to see you more often, which I’m fine with. And you need to pass this class to graduate on time, so shouldn’t you be glad you’re already friends with your professor?”

You knew it wasn’t what he intended, but the smile on his face felt like it was mocking you.

“Yeah. Friends.” You scoffed. “Can I go home now?”

“So this is your last class of the day?”

You internally cursed yourself for giving up that bit of information.

“Yeah. Now can I leave?”

“Well you’re not in a hurry are you? Since you don’t have anywhere to be after this.”

“Baekhyuuun” you whined “please, this sucks, just let me go home.”

He smiled, seemingly amused by you begging him.

“Okay. I’m not gonna make you stay any longer since you obviously don’t want to. But let me make it clear, I’m not gonna go easy on you here just because I like you. You still have to try.”

“Okay, that’s fine.” You reply, picking your bag up to leave, wondering what exactly he meant by like you. 

“I’m really looking forward to reading your essays by the way.”

He flashed you a smile as you finally turned to leave, and you hated yourself for not doing a better job at looking mad. As much as you hated to admit it, he had a damn beautiful smile.

“See you on Wednesday!” He shouted after you as you left the room. You didn’t respond.

When you arrived back at your apartment your mind started to fill with panicked thoughts. He wouldn’t come to the club anymore now would he? That meant having to try to mingle with strangers again, something you hated about your work. It also meant less money. It’s not often that customers bought hour long dances.

And what if he did show up again? How would you even act around him? Part of you wanted him to for the easy money, but you just couldn’t imagine grinding on your professor. Your face heated up just at the thought, especially since you knew he could look that good now. Would you even be able to give him a lap dance without losing your own mind?

You had trouble processing the fact that this was even able to happen. You’d  never thought to ask Baekhyun for his last name, and since it had been summer break he didn’t mention his job. The whole situation seemed bizarre. 

And what about class? Will he make it more difficult if he doesn’t get what he wants? 

No. Baekhyun isn’t like that, you tell yourself. As much as you disliked having him in a position of power over you, you’d gotten to know him well enough to know that he wouldn’t abuse it.

The more you’d gotten to know him the more you liked spending time with him rather than other customers, regardless of the money. And for good reason. The longer you knew Baekhyun, the more you realized he wasn’t like the other guys who came to the club. You could tell he was good, decent guy.

He was always there to see you, and only you. You had several other regulars, but none of them had any qualms about talking to and getting dances from other girls. Not that you minded, but you’d never seen Baekhyun even speak to another dancer.

He’s also just nice. The kind of nice that you don’t see in people often anymore. He was always incredibly respectful and would never do anything you weren’t comfortable with. Very few of the guys you came in contact with cared at all if they made you uncomfortable. They’d just assume that’s a part of the job for you.

Baekhyun was actually interesting to talk to as well. Since you’d met him at the beginning of summer, he usually told you about adventures he went on with his friends, most of whom you knew from the night they’d dragged him into the club.

They were a genuinely cool group of people. The one he was closest with, Chanyeol, was a music producer, another named Kyungsoo was an up and coming actor, and the one who’d introduced himself as Jongin was a professional dancer. Chanyeol had been the one to come with the idea of taking Baekhyun to the club in the first place. 

Baekhyun would tell you anecdotes from nights out he’d had with them during college, as well as other wild stories and you’d often find yourself laughing and smiling so hard your face hurt. Ever since your first night with him, you noticed how good he was at making the people around him feel at ease. He always knew what to say and when to make people laugh. 

Baekhyun was different from the other men at work because you liked being around him. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t find him attractive either. If you’d met him anywhere else, and he wasn’t your professor, you’d probably be more than willing to go on a date with him. 

But unfortunately that wasn’t the case.

You tore yourself out of your thoughts and realized how late it had gotten. Although it was only the first day, you already had homework you needed to start on. You spent the rest of the evening trying to be productive, but you couldn’t stop thinking about Baekhyun. How good he had looked, how attractive he sounded giving the lecture, how he wouldn’t stop looking at you. 

He was going to be much more present in your life now, whether you liked it or not.

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

Wednesday morning Baekhyun felt stupid for how excited he was to see you. He’d decided to get up early to work some exercise into his day, and hopefully clear his mind, but even as he took a shower and started getting ready to leave for work, he couldn’t get you out of his head. He’d decided to wear something a bit more casual and stylish, opting for a new pair of glasses, striped red t shirt, and cream slacks. He tried to make other excuses for why he wanted to look nice but in the back of his mind, he knew he wore it because he wanted to look good in front of you.

During the class before yours he noticed a female student in the first row chewing on the back of her pencil as she very intentionally leaned over her desk to grab a pen, putting her cleavage on display to him.

He only rolled his eyes, but he was pleased to see that his outfit was getting good reactions. He just hoped you’d like it.

When the class before yours left, Baekhyun felt his heart rate go up. What if you’d found a way to get out of his class? Would you even show up? Or if you did, would you just end up sitting as far from him as possible?

Usually he’d leave to go get a coffee during his break between giving lectures, but today he stayed in case you came early again. As the minutes went by students started to fill the lecture hall. Baekhyun couldn’t help but keep his eyes fixed on the door every time he heard it open, but he just kept seeing everyone but you. 

A minute before class started, you walked in and sat down in the second to last row.

Baekhyun felt his face light up as soon as saw you, only to immediately turn into a frown when he saw where you chose to sit down. It was as he’d suspected, you wanted to be as far away from his as possible. But at least you were there.

As Baekhyun started the lecture, he couldn’t help looking in your direction every few seconds. Even though you were in casual clothes without any fancy hairstyle or makeup, this was the version of you Baekhyun loved seeing the most. He was used to the perfected product you presented yourself as at your job, and he knew that wasn’t the real you. This was. You in leggings and a t shirt, your hair messily falling over your shoulders as you scribbled down notes. He could watch you like this all day. He noticed how your brows would furrow in confusion whenever he’d bring up a new concept, and how you chewed on your bottom lip when you were concentrating. Ever since he’d seen you like this on Monday, he couldn’t get enough. It was you, the real you.

He also noticed how you seemed to look everywhere in the room except for at him. You spent as much time as possible with your head down taking notes, even when there wasn’t much to write down. Other times your eyes would stay glued to the power point slides, or wander around the walls and ceilings. He understood why you weren’t exactly comfortable looking at him.

Despite being on the other side of the room, he was still able to pick up on little things. He noticed your leg bouncing, fingers tapping on the desk, and how much you would fidget when you weren’t writing notes.

He knew you were uncomfortable, and he hated it. He hated himself for being the reason. He wished there was something he could do or say that would make you enjoy being in his class more. Anything that would make you feel more at ease with him in this situation. If he wasn’t the only one teaching the class he wouldn’t have minded if you’d switched to a different professor, if it meant you were more comfortable. Of course he would’ve missed seeing you, but he also knew that was a selfish thought. He felt guilty that you had to be there and be uncomfortable because of him.

At the end of the lecture he gave the class their first proper assignment, a short essay analyzing Plato's “The Ring of Gyges”. It was an assignment he always gave at the very beginning of the semester, since it was a quite difficult read and gave him a good idea of how everyone would do in the class.

He was especially excited to see how you would do.

When class ended, you were the first one to leave and this time he didn’t stop you. He knew you wanted to leave and didn’t want to bother you again, still feeling slightly sorry for how late he’d kept you the first day. He’d only done it to try to reassure you about having him as your professor, but he hadn’t been expecting you to be as distressed about it as you were. In hindsight he realized he’d probably only made things more stressful for you.

Once the room was empty aside from him he packed up his things and left as well, hoping that you could become less anxious over time, and eventually, maybe even enjoy being in his class.

For now though, class had not been something for you to look forward to at all. You’d been dreading it ever since Monday afternoon.

That morning as you were getting ready, you tried to make yourself look a bit more presentable than you’d looked Monday, not wanting to live through the embarrassment of seeing Baekhyun look so nice while you were basically wearing pajamas again.

For the first half of your day you threw yourself into your other class work, successfully taking him off your mind for a while, but when your physics class ended and your next class was with him you felt yourself starting to panic.

You thought about skipping class, but you cared too much about your grade. You decided your best choice was to just get there as late as possible and sit as close to the door as you could so he wouldn’t be able to get you to stay after class again.

As you walked across campus you felt yourself get more and more nervous. Despite being there 20 minutes early and the room being open to sit down in, you sat down outside. As the minutes drew closer to class starting you felt your heart start to race and had trouble controlling your breathing. One minute before class was to start you got up, walked over to the door, and took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down a bit. You pushed open the door with shaky hands, and the second you could see into the room you notice Baekhyun's eyes on you, and his beautiful smile. You quickly looked down and hurried to the closest available seat in the back of the room, cringing at yourself.

As much as you wished you could, you couldn’t just ignore Baekhyun. He was the professor, you had to listen to him. But you had a hard time doing anything when he looked like he did. His shirt showed off his broad shoulders and he was wearing different glasses now too. He looked even better than he had on Monday. Had it not been for you already knowing him, you probably would’ve found him distracting for different reasons. You did everything you could not to look at him directly, knowing he’d catch you and see you blush. But who wouldn’t blush if he was staring at them while looking like that? You could tell some of the other girls in the class liked his outfit as well by the way they whispered to each other while shooting glances his way.

You wondered if maybe this was something he did often, if he liked starting things with students. If maybe his whole nice guy persona was fake and he really was just another scumbag.

But you soon realized that was just the bitterness speaking. You wouldn’t admit it to yourself but the thought of other girls trying to seduce him was bothering you. Baekhyun wasn’t a scumbag, not when he’d dedicated his life to teaching people about ethical issues and moral arguments.

As the class went on you couldn’t help but fidget and shift around in your seat. Even though you were avoiding looking at him, you knew his eyes were on you for much of the lecture. You’d figured it would be like this.

As it got closer and closer to the end of class you felt yourself get more and more panicked at the thought of him keeping you after again. You didn’t know what he could possibly keep you after for, but you didn’t want to stick around and find out, so as soon as he dismissed the class you nearly ran out without looking back.

“Hey, y/n!”

The sound of your name nearly gave you a heart attack, thinking it was Baekhyun who was going to force you to talk to him like this again but when you saw Lucas waving at you, you let out a relieved sigh.

“Hi Lucas.”

“I thought you’d come sit by me again today what happened?” He asked.

“Sorry about that, I was almost late today so I didn’t want to walk out there in front of the whole class” you said, hoping he wouldn’t see through your lie.

“Well I hope next time you’ll sit with me again.”

You managed to give him a small smile and nod, still a bit too frazzled over everything to want to talk to him.

“I have to get home, but I’ll se you Friday. Bye Lucas.” You waved at him as you went in the opposite direction.

You felt bad for not talking to him any longer, but you just weren’t in the right headspace.

On your walk home you felt weird. Had it really been that bad? Or were you just overreacting? Although he did look at you a lot Baekhyun seemed to teach the class as if everything was normal, more or less unaffected by your presence. He hadn’t seemed to mind your leaving either. Maybe he’d hadn’t planned to make you stay again. Maybe, it seemed, he was going to leave you be.

You knew Lucas would bother you about it if you didn’t sit with him again next time, but would you be okay to sit that close to the front again? Or even worse what if Lucas caught on that there was something going on between you and Baekhyun? He’d already seemed suspicious on the first day.

You decided your best course of action was to just do it and tough it out. All you needed to do was act like you did in all your other classes and everything would be fine right?

First however, you had to go home and face your roommate and tell her about this nightmare, having bottled it up until now. You weren’t exactly sure why you hadn’t told her right away. Maybe you felt strange about it since she had already told you you needed to keep him from getting any closer to you. Obviously that wasn’t going to be easy now.

As soon as you got home and put your things away you knocked on her door.

“YEAH?” You heard her yell through the door.

“Can I come in?”

“One second!”

A little while later the door opened.

“What’s up?”

“Can we have a girls night? I have some shit I need to tell you.”

You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Mia look so excited.

“You?? Have tea for ME??? Fuck yes!”

You thought about it, and this was pretty rare. 90% of the time she was the one unloading her boy problems on you, or any other kind of drama too for that matter. Not that you minded, that was just the dynamic you had gotten used to.

“Wanna order some food and put on a movie?” You asked.

“Sure.”

Your food eventually arrived and you put on a chick flick you’ve both seen a thousand times.

“So?? Are you gonna tell me what’s going on or what?” She asked turning to you, obviously looking forward to whatever you were about to fill her in on.

You sighed.

“So my philosophy professor this semester...” You swallowed, now having trouble getting yourself to say it.

“I know this sounds fucking insane but, Baekhyun’s my philosophy professor.”

The look on her face told you everything you need to know. The two of you had known each other for so long that words weren’t needed.

“I don’t know how it happened either. I signed up for the class forever ago anyway, before I even met him at the club. Just a bizarre coincidence. And he’s the only one teaching it and I need the credit to graduate so I'm stuck.”

“Shit dude.”

“Yeah I know. He kept me after class Monday and it was a fucking nightmare.”

“What did he say?”

“Basically just that I’m stuck with him. He also called me out for lying about what university I go to at work. And he said he liked me better ‘like this’ whatever the hell that means”

“He’s like obsessed with you isn’t he? He’s probably over the moon that he has a way into your personal life now which really fucking sucks for you.” She had a point. “Do you think he’ll still come see you at work?”

“I honestly really don’t wanna think about that right now.”

“Be careful, y/n. A customer having a crush on you is one thing but having him in charge of your grade is another. What if he starts trying to make moves on you and you shoot him down? He could fuck up your GPA just to get back at you or something.”

“No.” You responded, perhaps a bit too quickly. “No, Baekhyun isn’t like that. He’s not a bad guy, and I don’t think he’ll try anything anyway.”

“Really?”

“I’m not sure of course but he’s also a lot older than us and this is his job, I can’t see him risking his livelihood just for me.”

“He’s a college professor who’s giving you a thousand dollars a week, how does he even have that kind of money anyway? No way he gets paid enough as a professor to be giving you that much. He either has some other source of income or you’re already making him broke.”

You felt stupid for not having considered that yet. How the hell was he giving you so much? She was right, unless he was secretly rich or something there was no way he could afford to give you so much money every week without fucking himself over. Your stomach started to churn with the idea of him possibly even putting himself in debt just for your Saturday nights together. He couldn’t be that stupid right?

She could tell how much the conversation was stressing you out at that point.

“Listen,” she said, grabbing your hand “you just need to get through the semester. You can handle 16 weeks, class with him will get less awkward, and hopefully he’s at least smart enough not to come see you at work anymore now.”

The thought of him not coming anymore wasn’t a good one either though. You made much more money when he was there, and in under 2 hours. Staying at the club until 3am with school going on now, only to take home less money wasn’t really a good option either.

“I don’t wanna see him there but I need his money.”

“You’ll find some other guy who’s rich and in love with you soon enough, don’t worry, it’ll all be fine.” She said, pulling you in for a hug.

“Yeah..”

You knew she was just trying to make you feel better, but realistically you weren’t going to find another guy like Baekhyun at work, Even if someone came along who gave you as much money as he did, they wouldn’t be as fun to talk to, or as respectful as him. Guys like that just don’t come to strip clubs. You still didn’t even fully understand why he did.

“Just think of him as another one of your professors. It might be tough at first, but I think if you can do that you’ll be okay.” 

“You’re right, I just need to get my shit together and not let him distract me.” 

“See? Of course I’m right.” She grinned, and you couldn’t help but smile back. 

Eventually the movie ended, and by then it was late enough for the two of you to get ready for bed.

Talking to your best friend about it had made you feel slightly better. At least whatever happened, she would be there for you to talk it out with. Baekhyun wasn’t a bad person or anything either, it was just the situation that was stressing you out. As long as you could get ahold of yourself enough to focus on his lectures and do well in the class, you’d be fine. 

You kept reassuring yourself as you closed your eyes, and for the first night that week you didn’t stare at your ceiling for hours worrying, you went right to sleep.

Next Chapter

[foryoumyheroes]

Youtube Miya

[Osamu] has nothing to do at the start of the pandemic when Onigiri Miya closes temporarily other than meal prep for his spouse and wait for his S/O to come home and give him attention, so he starts a Youtube to curb his boredom. 

A/N: 

I know that this is a BNHA blog but I’ve been getting into Haikyuu!! (even though I’m still kinda unfamiliar with it) and this came to me! I hope you guys enjoy! Also I know that Japan’s lockdown was more lenient but let’s ~ pretend. 

He’s legit just been laying at home thinking, “Damn... I have nothing to do.” 

Sure, he can meal prep or whatever, and he makes meals for you every day, but he’s already done with that, and there’s just so much time he can spend making cutesy bentos in fun animal shapes for you no matter how long he stretches the time out. 

He’s just been in bed. Chilling. Yearning. Waiting for you to come home. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. 

He’s not quite sure what inspires him to create a YT channel. He just has the time, he looks for recipes occasionally on there, and he has his camera phone so one day he’s just like why not? 

He’s not that big on mukbangs for some reason despite being a lover of food. 

I think his style of videos is either super calming like Jun’s Kitchen or casual like Imamu room. They’re straight to the point with very little talking, easy to watch. 

The most he talks is his introduction video which I imagine is chaotic for no apparent reason. It starts with him laying flat on his back on the kitchen counter staring up at the ceiling. He’s silent for ten whole seconds of the video and he’s so still that some people think the video’s lagging or just a still frame. Then he turns to the camera with a bored face and says, “I’m Miya Osamu, owner of Onigiri Miya. This is my Youtube channel. I make food.” Then the video ends. 

UMMM?? OK?? 

When he first started Suna helped out by giving him editing tips. 

He occasionally makes super fancy recipes that he hasn’t tried before or ones that he really enjoys, and has a video on making the perfect onigiri where he lectures like a professor with a doctorate about the perfect rice to filling ratio. However, the most common videos and the ones that get the most likes are the ones that document the meal he makes for that day for his spouse. 

It’s titled something generic like, “Bento for my [husband/wife/spouse] #12″ 

BUT HE PUTS SO MUCH DEDICATION AND CARE INTO THE MEAL. 

That’s not just for show or for the camera. He did that years before he started the channel, but now that his efforts are in the public view the comments are all like: 

“Are you guys looking for a third member to join your relationship” 

“CAN YALL ADOPT ME” 

“👁👄👁 me watching the perfect man make meals every day for someone else” 

“IM SICK AND T I R E D OF YOUR PERFECTION SAVE SOME FOR THE REST OF US” 

“MAKING FOOD FOR YOUR SPOUSE DAILY ANNDDDDD MAKING THE PRESENTATION *CHEFS KISS*?? ?  👑 👑 👑 You dropped these king.” 

“We can only see his forearms and hands in these videos and yet im horn knee” 

“We can’t see his face but he’s hot 😩😩 I just know it” 

He reads the comments occasionally for a good laugh and comes to you when there’s something like, “I hope your spouse treats you like a king because you deserve it after all your effort” A comment that hypes him up basically. 

He’ll be like, “You hear that, [Name], you’re married to the perfect man.” 

You: but I’m not married to Kita-san tho???

Osamu:  

He prefers to have you hidden, not even with only your lower body in frame to protect your privacy. 

If the commenters get too pushy and practically continuously demand to have you shown in his videos he just posts a video of him calmly eating plain rice while comments that are being mean and annoying are overlaid over the screen to the sound of the Mii theme. No one knows what it means but the comments stop. 

Okay but imagine that he sometimes puts his mistakes in. Like when he’s scooping rice into your bento box and he accidentally misses the lunch box completely and the rice just splats onto the countertop but he lets out that small snort laugh under his breath??? My heart: taken. 

He doesn’t blow up overnight, but he does get a good following pretty quickly, about 100k in the span in two or three months. 

After Onigiri Miya does open up again the daily videos stop, but he still posts food videos pretty regularly. Instead of one daily video for your lunch, he’ll post like, “Dinner with my spouse on [Day/Month]” occasionally or cram all of your weekly bento meals into one video. 

If he gets noticed in public or in his restaurant he’s still so new to this that when people ask to take pictures with him he’ll just dumbly go, “HUh?” and make a shocked face. 

Atsumu tries to tease him for it but he just shrugs and is like whatever. From the start all he wanted to do was make food for you. Whatever ✨clout✨ that he gets from it doesn’t really matter to him. 

It annoys his brother though because sometimes on the street they’ll be like “ARE YOU MIYA OSAMU’S BROTHER???” 

And Atsumu’s just, “YOU MEAN HE’S MIYA ATSUMU’S BROTHER” and tripping over the reverse uno that’s been played over his life. 

Guess what he does after he gets his first big chunk of AdSense money? You guessed right. He gives u a kiss on the forehead and goes, “We’re getting the fancy wagyu at the grocery store tonight, babe.” 

[matthewtkachuk]

the essay - rafe cameron

rafe’s having issues with his philosophy class, especially the paper worth thirty percent of his grade. you’ve already taken the class, crushed the essay, and rafe offers to take care of you if you take care of the paper for him

warnings: smutty smut smut (sorry not sorry), oral (female receiving), penetrative sex, lil bit of cockwarming, idk man it’s smut

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 2.5k

a/n: surprise smut saturday ig hehe, s/o to @sortagaysortahigh​ for the ffhd universe - here’s frat!rafe being a lil shit 

Rafe has to take a humanities class as part of his general ed requirements and he fuckin hates it. He thinks the prof is an old fuck who talks in riddles and he finds himself falling asleep during the 8 am lecture.

Luckily, you, his super hot super smart girlfriend (yeah, he’s sucking up a little, sue him) already took the course and you’re willing to share your immaculate notes (color coded and shit fuck yeah).

Except, Rafe is lazy and hates the content so much that he literally can’t focus when he goes to try and study your notes, so you decide to help him, sitting cross legged on his bed as he sits in his desk chair. You’re asking him questions and for everyone he gets right you lean over and give him a lil baby kiss.

He still thinks the content is stupid and overcomplicated for no reason, “I don’t understand why they don’t just say what they mean?” He groans as you attempt to explain John Locke’s two treatises of government, explaining that men are by nature free and equal. But, he likes the sound of your voice, and he is actually learning something.

He doesn’t totally bomb his first quiz, pulling off a pretty decent mark for sleeping his way through the class, and you definitely celebrate, with you showing him just how proud you were of him by letting him shove his cock down your throat.

It’s all going well, until the essay. The fucking essay.

Rafe thinks its stupid as shit, he hates essays, he’s a fuckin business major for fucks sake. Humanities can kiss his ass, you know.

He’s sat hunched at his desk, shoulders stiff with tension when you walk into his room, his philosophy textbook that he literally has not cracked once this semester is open beside him. His hair is disheveled from running his hands through it in frustration you assume. You pout, you don’t like seeing Rafe upset like this. Your frat boy boyfriend is usually calm and collected - you’re the one who gets a little too stressed when it comes to school.

Sliding your arms around his shoulders from behind, you press a kiss to the side of his face, “you okay baby?” He groans, and you feel the vibration through your entire body. He leans back into your embrace, letting his head fall back far enough that you’re able to kiss his forehead twice, making him smile

��No, this essay is fuckin stupid,” he grumbles and you can’t help but giggle at the stormy look on his face. He pouts again, turning his head to the side and puckers his lips hoping you get the hint. You peck his lips quickly once, before leaning back.

“It’s really not that bad Rafe, I got like an A on it”. At your words, something flashes behind his eyes, and he’s quick to slink out of your embrace, rolling his chair around and pulling you down onto his lap. You laugh, hands flying to grip his shoulders to keep your balance. He’s just looking at you, a small smirk on his face that makes your face feel hot. Sliding your hands from his shoulders to cup his neck you ask, “what?” But his smirk only grows wider.

Your eyes flutter shut as his lips trace a path along your jaw before he stops at your ear and whispers, “if it’s so easy why don’t you write it for me then?”

You gasp and push against his chest, “No way Rafe, I passed that class once I'm done with it.”

He grins against your neck where his kisses have migrated, his large hands gripping your hips to keep you close, “I’ll make it worth your while baby” you pause for a moment, distracted by the way he’s sucking and biting at the delicate skin of your neck, before shaking your head.

“That sounds like prostitution Rafe,” you attempt to snap at him, but the effect is lost with how breathy your voice is.

“No baby, you’ve got it all wrong,” he punctuates his point by lighting scraping his teeth against your pulse point, “it’s appreciation”

“You’re an idiot” you push against his chest again, trying to wiggle out of his hold, but his large hands don’t let go, his thumbs rubbing against your hip bone.

“C’mon baby,” he whines, lifting his head to rest your foreheads together, “I need your help”. You close your eyes, when his voice gets all whiny like that, it does something for you and he knows it and is using it to his advantage.

“Rafe, that’s literally the definition of academic dishonesty.” You tried to reason with him, but the thing about Rafe Cameron is that he’s not typically very reasonable.

“Only if we get caught baby,” he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, “Just write something shitty.”

“I literally cannot write a shitty essay,” you hissed, but sighed looking at his puppy dog pout, “If I agree-”

He cut you off with a big kiss, “thank you baby-”

You pushed his face back from you and continued speaking, hands holding his face away, “If I agree, I’m just going to formulate your arguments and find you quotes, the only thing I’ll write for you is the thesis statement, the rest you have to take care of.”

“Alright,” he nodded before kissing your shoulder again, “now let me take care of you.”

You sighed and relaxed your tense shoulders, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him kiss you. Before you know it, the kiss is hot and passionate, and you feel your heart in your stomach. His one arm is warm and strong against your lower back, pressing your chests together as you grind down on his lap. His other hand is curled against the base of your neck, pressing slightly into the flesh. Your mind is so clouded over with lust, you’re startled when he lets go of your throat to keep you steady as he stands up from the computer chair. Your legs instinctually wrap around his waist as he carries you to the bed. You whimper at the ease with which he supports you, turned on by the idea of your six foot three boyfriend manhandling you.

He lays you down gently on the bed and loses his shirt before kneeling over your body and leaning down to connect your lips again. Your fingers trace his abs, around his hips and up the smooth muscles of his back, feeling the goosebumps erupt on his skin after your touch. His hand slips under your oversized t-shirt, the cold metal of the ring he wears on his index finger a contrast against your warm skin. He helps you out of the item of clothing, you sit up a little to help get it over your head before your lips are together again.

The lower half of his body grinds against yours, causing you to throw your head back and gasp at the friction you desperately crave in that moment. You feel his smirk against your skin as he resumes his earlier ministrations against your neck, marking up your neck.

“No marks, Rafe,” you whine, already irritated about having to cover up the healing marks he previously left. Your friends giggle and tease you when you don’t cover them.

“You’re my girl, want everyone to know,” he shrugs, continuing his assault on your neck, licking and sucking until purple bruises litter your throat. You can’t help the flutter of your heart at his words, despite your slight annoyance over his possessiveness.

You trail a hand up from between his shoulder blades to pull on his hair, hard enough to pull him from your neck but not enough to actually hurt, and his lust-blown pupils stare into your eyes for a moment before he’s attaching your lips together again. Tongues lazily meeting, his hand finding its place around your neck again.

It’s not long before he’s kissing his way down your neck and across your collarbone before finding your breast. He sucks a few marks against the soft skin of your right breast, as he massages the other. “God, Rafe,” you moan as he pulls a nipple into his mouth, teeth lightly scraping against the sensitive flesh. Your back curves up at the sensation, pressing your bodies even closer together. As he moves to give attention to your other breast, you make eye contact, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth at the sight of him - messy hair and a hungry look in his eyes. This is your favorite Rafe, you muse, unkempt, unrestrained. You know his childhood wasn’t the most pleasant, know that he was saddled with responsibilities and expectations like Atlas was saddled with the world on his shoulders. When Rafe is like this, his guard is down and his state of vulnerability, the one that he only shares with you, makes you feel special.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by the feeling of lips pressing their way down your abdomen and you clench your stomach at the sensation, but a hand softly rubs your hip as he murmurs, “beautiful” against your skin. You can’t fight the small smile, even as he prepares to ruin you he’s offering you sweet reassurances. That’s the duality of your fratboy boyfriend - equal parts saccharine sweet and sultry suggestive.

You tense again as he runs a hand against your clothed heat. “Relax, baby, I’ll take care of you,” he smirks, hooking a finger in either side of your shorts, pulling them down along with your underwear to reveal your bare self to him. He licks his lips before running a finger through your folds, cocky grin returning to his face as he says, “so wet, baby, all for me?” It’s difficult to find the words to respond to him, so you just whimper in response. His thumb rubs circles on your clit as he lowers his mouth to your pussy, tongue probing your entrance. 

One hand grips the sheets, while the other grabs his hair, tugging lightly when he replaces his tongue with two fingers. He fingers you slowly, torturing you with the slow pace before you tug on his hair again and whine, “more, please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he smirks, increasing the pace and curling them slightly inside of you to stroke your walls. “Think you can take another?” he doesn’t wait for you to respond, sucking on your clit between his lips and slipping a third finger into you.

As your orgasm approaches, that familiar sensation begins to pull at your stomach. You try to push his head away from you, the feeling almost too much. He just grabs that hand and links your hands together, the simple act coupled with the way his fingers are curled inside of you has you seeing stars, grinding your pussy against his face as your back arches. He continues to work you with his mouth and his fingers as you come down from your high.

He moves to hover over you again, kissing you hotly as your fingers move to grip him over his sweatpants. He grabs your hand and breaks the kiss, “no baby, I’m taking care of you tonight.” He gets up, slips out of his remaining clothes and easily flips you over so your stomach is pressed into the mattress. Lifting yourself onto your hands and knees, you look at him over your shoulder, biting your lip as he strokes himself a few times. He runs a hand down your back slowly before squeezing your ass with one hand as he lines himself up with his other.

You moan, head falling forward as he enters you slowly, giving you a chance to adjust and catch your breath before he’s relentlessly pounding into you. You’re a whimpering mess, hands desperately clinging to the bed sheets, loving the way he feels inside of you, the way his hands grip your waist. You feel him shift before your back is pressed to his chest, as he continues to press his hips into yours.

This angle does it for you, he’s entering you more deeply and his whiny moans in your ear spurn you closer and closer to another orgasm. He’s murmuring sweet affirmations into your ear, telling you how good you feel, what a good girl you are taking his cock so well. It’s when he sinks his teeth into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, as his hand dips to rub between your legs that the coil snaps once more. You scream his name as you cum, head falling back against him as he fucks you through it.

He’s close now, and you whine as he slips out of you, shifting until he’s laying on his back and you’re hovering over him. His hands grip your hips once again as he helps you lower yourself onto him. You do your best to roll your hips as you ride him, but you’re oversensitive and tired, so he quickly takes over thrusting up into you. This is his favorite view, you with your head thrown back, one hand gripping your own breast, the other rubbing circles on your clit as you bounce on his cock. He doesn’t last much longer, cumming with a whiny groan as he cums inside of you. His hand replaces yours on your clit as he continues to thrust up into you until you cum again, collapsing on his chest still seated on his cock.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, utterly exhausted as you wrap your arms around his body and press a kiss to his chest unable to move any further. He chuckles, moving a hand to run through your hair. It’s silent for a few moments, the only sound in the room your shared disordered breathing.

“Y’know baby I could marry you,” he murmurs in his post-orgasmic state, holding you tightly to his chest. His words awake butterflies in your stomach and you know he feels the erratic beating of your heart against his skin. You can’t deny the feeling of arousal that pools in your belly as you roll your eyes.

“Shut up, Rafe. Talk to me after you’ve finished hazing pledges and I’ve been accepted into my masters program.” Despite your nonchalance, you’ve thought about it. How could you not have thought about it after an imperfectly perfect year with the man at your side. You loved him, all of him - he could be an asshole, but he was your asshole. Always protective, always ready to defend you, always so, so loving, you think you could spend the rest of your life loving him.

“I mean it,” he replies, fingers dancing along the ridges of your spine. You shiver as he leaves goosebumps after his touch.

You pull back slightly to look him in the eye, “I’m not going to write your paper for you,” you accuse, suspicious of his motives. There’s love behind his eyes, but also a dark rim of lust around his pupils.

“Maybe you’ll change your mind after round 2,” he smirks, flipping the two of you so you lie underneath him once more as he leans his weight on his forearms on either side of your face, lowering his lips to yours.

taglist bbs: @velyssaraptor​ @danicarosaline​ @copper-boom​ @x-lulu​ @prejudic3​ @rekrappeter​ @downbytheouterbanks​​ @ilovejjmaybank​​ @bricksatanakinswindow​​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @sunwardsss​​ @rudyypankow​ @im-a-stranger-thing​ @alexa-playafricabytoto​ @maybankfullkook​ @girlsru1eboysdroo1​ @sortagaysortahigh​ @socialwriter​ @bluesiderudy​ @anxietyandtacos​ @diverrdown​ @stargazingstarkey​

[cosmiclatte28]

7 Minutes in Heaven (Jaehyun x you) 🔞

Okay this is suggestive and not suitable for under 18 readers, so please continue only if you’re going to bear the consequences. No it’s not super smuty, it’s just not a good thing to copy :) 

Warning : don’t kiss random strangers, don’t drink, don’t smoke, wrap up or you’re skipping a nine month bloody day :”)... Jungwoo is your bestfriend, Shy!Jaehyun and you’re bold enough to try new things...

anyways this has been in my laptop for a while, wanted to post it on Halloween but didn’t finish it back then... soooo embrace yourself for a new journey of how it might be like to play 7 minutes in heaven with Jaehyun 

here goes my (suggestive) fanfic... hope this won’t make you cringe

________________________________________________________________

“So…you're saying the boys think I am a pure innocent girl?” You scoff and laugh upon the remark Jungwoo just said.

“Well they don't believe me when I said you're totally different outside campus.” The man with blue hair bashfully looks around the canteen.

You pick up your fork and continue poking in chicken chunks to your small mouth, “And why are you telling this exactly?”

Jungwoo deadpan looks at you and leans closer, “Why don't you proof them wrong? They've labeled you as the boring mechanical engineering girl!”

He slams the table a bit dramatically, to which you shudder.

“Easy… you'll break the table! Well sorry, but they're not totally wrong. I'm a regular mechanical engineering girl, boring, studying all the time, nerd, and just never coming to parties!” you give him a dry chuckle.

“Look this is not the true you! I've known you since high school! I know how crazy the boys were whenever you pass by! I'll be honest there were like 5 hot guys who had crush on you in high school, just that sorry I told them you're not allowed to date yet.” Jungwoo trails off and feels a bit guilty when he finally spills the beans he has been hiding.

Your eyes fly open and your mouth too, you drop your spoon and grunt, “Say that again… you cock-blocked me?!”

Jungwoo closes his eyes and inhales a deep breath, “I'm saving your future! I just don’t want them to you know use you and throw you away…”

You hit the spoon to the metal tray, and it made a good “BANG"

“Surprise surprise you told me this after like I don’t know five years maybe. You made the men who liked me back away before even trying to reach me out! Jungwoo all my life I thought I was the one with problem?! I thought no one likes nerds like me; when I myself believe I am a fun girl!” your rage bubbles up from within.

You feel like crying, all these times you thought you were imperfect, you were never a crush for men, you've dealt with your insecurities. You overcome dark times when you see your friends walking through the hallway, having the spotlight on them. You thought you can never be that just because you're an A-grade-student. You did have Jungwoo standing by your side through high school, and he's a good friend who you cannot see as a man.

Your friendship with Jungwoo is indeed a beneficial one, since both of you love science and calculations. You have a study friend and voila you both made it to you best engineering school!

Just as you thought campus life will be lit, since you can “reset" your image, be the fun student on weekend, and study well on weekdays.

But no. You’re overworked with the tasks and quizzes, and to ensure your scholarship is still there, you need a minimum of 3.0 in GPA and that means you’re saying goodbye to parties and hello to enough sleep.

You're mad now when you think of it. Jungwoo has been a cock-block since grade 10 and maybe until today when he finally realized what he had done.

You massage your temple and look in disgust at your unfinished food.

You push your chair back and stand up, “I am mad at you. I don't feel like eating. Good bye Jungwoo..”

“WAIT! i'm sorry I know I was a jerk… but please let me fix it… give me a chance..” he begs you

Your mind is set already, and you shake your head, “I can fix it by myself. So long” you wave and quickly run to the bathroom.

There you let out your emotion in one of the locked toilets and you pull yourself back when you figure a way out to proof them wrong.

You're not the typical book-worm boring mechanical student. You’re you and that will blow the house on fire tonight.

You wash your face in the sink and pamper up yourself from the messy state. You're a fan of make up and you've always had natural looks over your pretty face.

Quickly you draw back your mascara and eye liners, one smack of lip gloss and you're smiling all the way to your next class. Writing.

Johnny greets you in front of the lecture class, he tells you about the upcoming party Lucas will hold this Saturday and Johnny suggests you come and see what it feels like to have some relaxation and fun. He knows midterm has just ended and he is sure you don't have lies to excuse yourself from the invitation.

“Great guess I can make it. Need that fun nights you know. Any theme?”

“Oh, it'll be a costume party since it’s Halloween.” Johnny explains.

You smirk already having lots of ideas in your mind. “Okay see you there then!”

“Nice! Dress up nicely, it's a competition!”

You give him two thumbs up.

--

“Sooo what are you going to wear?” Jungwoo finally gets to talk to you after trying so hard to win your forgiveness.

“I am not going as your couple okay.. I’m going simple this time. I don't want to try too hard.” You smile remembering how you're always prepared for costume parties.

“Let me see, I’ve won Bonnie and Clyde costume… last year we showed up as marry Poppins. Now I just want to enjoy the party.” You plop into your bed and stretch. The party is tomorrow night and Jungwoo is staying over tonight because he needs to finish his costume.

“What? Tell me…” he asks while sticking his props to you don't really know what costume is he going with.

“see me tomorrow okay…”

Jungwoo rolls his eyes when he sees what you appear with tomorrow.

“Seriously?! You’re keeping it a secret. Just to come to the party dressed as a Ravenclaw student!”

You turn around to final check your appearance. Well coming as a Ravenclaw is what you want today.

Jungwoo is by your side ready in his F1 racer costume.

Everything as fun and cool you're having a blast when you see Jungwoo's frats brothers. One man caught your attention when he looks so cute in his Slytherin costume. Your eyes dilate when he flashes a smile to another person, but you caught the smile.

“Whew that is hot.” You whisper to yourself and keep your eyes on him. You never hear Jungwoo talking about him, but seeing him seated nicely between Doyoung and Taeyong, you knew he belongs in that frats. Doyoung and Taeyong are the boys from your music class and they're your best friend.

“hey (y/n)!! Come! We’re playing spin the bottle!” Johnny calls you over to join the table full of 23 men and several girls lounging over the empty seat.

You bring yourself to the seat next to Jungwoo and you're face to face with the cute slytherin boy.

You fix your skirt and calmly cross your legs while watching the man's reaction across you. He was caught watching you but when your eyes met, he quickly averts his gaze away and drinks his cup.

The game starts and you're drowned in alcohols. Well when they ask you stupid personal questions, you're shy to answer, you choose to drink.

Jungwoo keeps on telling you to stop, “Hey enough! You downed three shots .. too fast girl.” He holds your hand before you chug another shot.

Johnny sends a smug look, “Hey Jungwoo why don't you be her dark horse? If you think she drank too much, take a double shot.”

Jungwoo is not the best alcohol drinker and he needs to make sure you got home safe, before he can open his mouth a deep voice makes the whole room move their head to face him.

“I'll take her shots.” The Slytherin boy downs two cups like they were nothing and you catch his ears turning red.

“Thank you…” your voice trails off.

“It's Jaehyun,” he winks.

You pop your lips, “Yeah Jae, thanks!”

The room cheers and starts throwing cat calls to the two of you. You remain calm while deep inside your heart you're dying to squeal and bury your face. Jaehyun on the other side is also turning red, but his sweet smile is still there.

The bottle spins again and this time it points to Jaehyun and he chooses dare.

“Okay Okay this is gonna be fun!!” Mark claps his hands after him and Johnny whisper about the plan.

“Jae, you and the person across you go in that closet and do the 7 minutes in heaven thing… or drink” Johnny clicks his tongue. The room cheers and you can see it's you they meant ..

“Across me?” Jaehyun rubs his neck slowly, he somehow feels shy around you.

“Yeah (y/n)!” Doyoung punches his shoulder, “I'm doing it if I were you"

Taeyong claps his hands and pushes Jaehyun to stand up.

“Just do it!” someone else is also pushing you, it was Lucas.

You did not object and just shrug your shoulder.

Without further ado, you and Jaehyun are forced into the small closet.

They close the door and gosh you hear a click.

It’s dark inside, but somehow there’s a good air circulation at least you two won’t die out of breath.

You can’t really see him, but with the small lights penetrating through the space, you swear your heart is beating super fast. He looks ethereal.

“You good? Sorry they did this to you.” Jaehyun starts the conversation.

You let out a small chuckle, “No..it's fine. I'm okay… I’m not claustrophobic nor afraid of the dark.”

He laughs nervously, “Nice, me too.”

“Thanks for taking my shot earlier.” You try to break the thin air.

“No problem,” he fidgets with his fingers.

“So… are you gonna kiss me or we're keeping this safe?” you slap yourself for saying that out loud. Jaehyun swears he thank the darkness that his burning red face is hidden.

He chokes and coughs, you quickly apologize “Sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you. Look, I thought you were the kind of guys who will just be straight forward and keep things casual.”

Jaehyun laughs, his laugh sounds sweet you almost melt.

“And I thought you're a shy quiet innocent girl.” He licks his lips. Well he's fast in reading the atmosphere and he knows if the time is right, he'll get that lips he has been eyeing since you entered the room.

You feel your cheek warming, “Ah.. yeah sorry Maybe you don’t see me interesting. I'm just the boring-"

“no. You're not. Girl you're not what people say.”Jaehyun cuts your sentence.

His hands cup your cheeks, “You're brave and oh I am the shyest boy here and I just like girls like you.” He blurts it out.

You feel your heart clench, really a handsome man like him who can win every girl's heart with one smile and wink… is a shy boy?

“You're telling me... you're a shy boy.. even when you can win the girls with one wink and a smile.”

He blushes, “Well… did I win your heart like that??”

You sigh, “Actually you won my heart with the Slytherin coat and you did toss me a smile. My heart somersault when you took my shots.”

He chuckles, “Can I make a confession?”

You nod, “Sure, what happens here stays here.”

He leans closer and whispers, “I've never kissed a girl before and you too look cute little Ravenclaw.”

Your eyes linger to his plump wet lips, you bite yours. Oh gosh you were also a virgin! You've never kissed anyone, but you're going to break that image, right? Tonight, Is the right time you guess.

“May I?” you ask. Fuck the stereotype girls can also start kisses.

Jaehyun did not reply anything instead he brings his hand to cup your face and with one hand in your chin he leans in to mold his lips into yours.

You feel electricity running in your body and your mind is full of stars. Your stomach is doing things and oh you regret not kissing him sooner. His lips indeed taste good and the way he holds your neck is enough to make you squirm.

You open your mouth and his tongue slips in. You're loud. You swear anyone could hear the two of you making out. But his soft touch and his slow head movement makes you crave more.

He almost pulls back thinking you don't want this, but you're faster. You push yourself to him more and run your fingers to his hair. You play with his hair according to how your body tingles by his kiss.

He pulls back to take a short breathing and you smile when the two of you just lean on the walls and take in as much air as you can. Jaehyun feels like crawling into a hole, he just had an intense first kiss with you, the girl he secretly put interest in for the last six months.

“Was I good?” he glances to you.

You smirk, “If this is what I’ll get every time we kiss, I’m addicted already.”

He scoots closer and in that small room, he manages to pull you up on his lap. You chuckle but follow his game.

“Can I taste that soft cherry again?” he whispers hoarsely, and you shudder. Hey, weren’t you going to show how not innocent you are but why are you so pliant and shy under this Shy Slytherin boy?

You peck his lips, “I'm afraid our seven minutes timer is up.”

He brings his hands to your waist, “No one is opening the door yet for us. Might as well seize the opportunity.”

You chuckle, “Good at bargaining huh?” and you lean in for another hot make out session.

“So… can we two be a thing?” he asks with his wet swollen lips.

You put your hands on his shoulder “I don't know. Can a Ravenclaw date a Slytherin?”

He laughs at your obsession of Harry Potter. “I don’t know. Should we test it?”

You bend your neck and hide it on his neck. Inhaling a quick whiff of his musk cologne.

“Well I don’t see anything wrong in trying..”

“I wish I could see your face now. Because right now.. my face is burning… “

“I can feel your heartbeat Honey,” you giggle as you plant your palm over his fast heartbeat.

“Slow down or you'll get a heart attack.” You rub his shoulder blades

“It's getting hot here or is it just me?” he fans his hand

You knock your hand to the door and yell, “Hey guys it's been more than seven minutes! We need air.”

You hear someone shuffle to the door and unlocks it.

You did not move from his lap, you wait til that person is out and when you hear no one else is in the room, you kick the door opens.

Lights come into your peripherals and you quickly close the big room's door.

Jaehyun tosses you a questioning look

You shrug your shoulder, “Happiness can be found even in the darkest place when one turns on the lights.”

“Such a fanatic here!” he picks you up and pushes you to the wall. You can see his starry eyes now under the lights and oh gosh they were so pretty.

You can see his deep dimple showing whenever he gives you a side smile and your hands find their way to cup his face.

Like casted by the love potion you bend your neck to kiss him. His lips is an addiction and you're blaming the alcohol for whatever happens afterward.

“I guess you're going home alone Woo,” Lucas said when he passed by the locked room and his face turns red upon hearing the sinful noises.

Jungwoo chugs down another drink, “Let her, she's big enough to take care of herself.”

“And why are you not bringing her to parties sooner? I thought she was the regular boring student.” Haechan was jealous of Jaehyun. Hell, he found you super intriguing too.

Jungwoo smirks, “Told you she’s not like the others.”

Lucas pats his shoulder, “And you're not the one getting laid. Be patient okay…”

Jungwoo laughs out loud, “Hell no, we're bestie since long time. I can’t see her as a woman. We’re good. Jae can have her.”

Jaehyun looks hot without his coat and after climbing down the high. The best one you two ever had. You were laying down on the big mattress staring to the ceiling and catching breaths with Jaehyun beside you.

“Do you think Jungwoo will hate me?” Jaehyun picks out a cigarette box he found in the closet earlier.

You shake your head, “He'll be happy I got laid finally.”

Jaehyun huffs a cloud of smoke, you ask him “you think the boys will think of me as less? Like maybe they see me as the same cheap sl-"

Jaehyun presses a finger over your lips “No. They don't and won't. They are not that type of men. They respect women's choices. In contrast, I’m sure if they hear our story, they’ll be jealous.”

A small smile comes to your lips, the naughty side of yours is awake. “Oh yeah? Then try it. Tell them about us and see if they're jealous.”

Jaehyun offers you the stick of cigarette, you're not a new smoker. Actually, you smoke sometimes to relax, you smoke a special herbal one… and this is one of it.

“Whaoh you're not a newbie?” he sounds surprised when you did not cough after taking the first smoke.

“I did sometimes the herbal ones.” You blow a cloud of smoke.

“Funny how we have a lot in common, but we just know one another tonight.”

You smile, “in seven minutes actually.”

He hugs you from the side, “Yeah the best seven minutes in heaven.”

*op hides in the corner* end 

how is it??? aaaa I guess it’s soo bad :”)

[helpinghanikan]

Sleeping arrangements

Avengers (and Matt Murdock x Reader)

Sum:  It's late and the bed is so nice. It's time to sleep and to bring your heroes along with you. (Fluffy little snippets of sleepy time with the Avengers)

Steve Rogers:

It’s the last train home and only one thing in this world is warm. The wall of Steve Rogers your head rested against was beating softly through the jacket and shirt he wore. Keeping your arms around his center to keep any of the heat from getting away. His own arm protects around your shoulders, keeping you in and gibing his hand something to do instead.

He could’ve driven, he should’ve driven, instead he wanted to take the train. He wanted to walk around like he did years and years before, but this time with your hands intertwined.

Although far away the train has started to shake the earth. Taking you out of the almost sleeping world and back into this cold one. The change in worlds brings out a yawn and lets the cold back in. It’s been a long day. With your eyes closed and clothes heavier than they could ever be Steve was the only thing keeping you up. His chin rests on your head after a while, thumb rubbing over your shoulder as the train finally pulled to a stop.

Inside it was the same story but in a seated position. Guided into his lap and landing with a groan as it was just so much work. The practically empty strain allowed your legs to stretched straight out over the seats.

Steve could stay awake longer than most, but he was tired. He was cold and annoyed and really wished he had driven instead of taking this stupid train. He took his frustration out on squeezing you tight, holding on as if you were liable to fall right out of the seat if he let go. At least it was warmer inside the train.

Tony Stark:

Someone staying up late, not getting enough sleep, and making exhaustion their personality trait is funny for maybe week. But After days of trying to coax him to come to bed, to try something other than just giving up on sleep or even talking to a doctor it gets concerning. After weeks of these same issues, it becomes frustrating.

Everyone, from Pepper to Peter have done their fair share of lecturing. Happy has gone out of his way in helping you get the dumbass to appointments. All of which he has walked right out because, unfortunately, he was still an adult who could make his own decisions.

It’s only after using the nuclear word that he pays attention.

“Anthony,” You say just before he leaves the room.

Although speaking to his back he does stop. His shoulders have tensed under the t-shirt and he’s listening in.

There’s an audio book’s worth of things you could say about this issue. But it would all be a repeat that he’s heard before, from many different mouths. Instead, you kept it simple, not even bothering to turn on the light.

“You didn’t even try.” It comes out from a tired partner just wanting the best for him. Yet Tony walks away from the advice, again.

Thor:

Power doesn’t stop for sleep. It’s still in the air when he’s laying sideways towards the window. Because of the whole nighttime thing it’s hard to tell if clouds are actually coming in or darkening. Maybe you’re just insane but Mr. Weatherman didn’t say anything about rain tonight, right?

It was a jolt that really woke you up. Looking over your shoulder at the expanse of muscular back. Thor movements were always a bit too…loud for this world. Whether running through a fight or moving in his sleep it calls attention to everyone. He doesn’t mean to, but it does wake you up enough to see your glass is dryer as a bone.

As if reading your mind, the rain has come down. It could almost be described as torrential how hard it was all coming down. Matching the dramatics of rain, a lightning strike coming straight down into some poor tree.

This wasn’t the first time Thor had a nightmare. Asgardians just seemed to be humans 2.0, making Thor just as a victim to horror as we humans are. At the same time, he was still another worldly being, translating to giving him a few feet when waking him up.

Another strike of lightening and another tree is taken out of this world. Without the lights on that blast was your only moment of lightening. The rest of the journey made to Thor’s side of the bed was done in darkness and pounding rain. Following the outlined Asgardian until reaching his shoulder. A gentle hand on his should does nothing. A little shake and a whispered “Thor,” finally does the trick.

The two strikes of lightening outside somehow reached his eyes. For the briefest of seconds blue, cracking energy is directed right at you. Stopping just as quickly as they appeared, replaced with Thor’s regular blue eyes that blink a few times.

“What is it?” he asks.

There’s no point in telling him the truth about his nightmares and their effect. Then again, there’s no point in lying either. Instead, it’s better to distract. “It’s still super early. Back to bed.” You say instead, kissing with until he takes the hit and holds you.

Bucky Barnes:

Sleep is a luxury that isn’t worth chasing. With the pillows and sheets there were nightmares and enemies that could sense his weakness. Trying to get at least six hours and all that guarantees is waking up sweaty and a call to doc, making sure to get everything back in order before you could ever notice.

Instead, he takes walks. Maps out the city at night, the changes and differences that happened without him. He recognizes the buildings, the structures and bricks that were too strong to be a victim to time.

Most of the time he does this alone. Watching a show about nothing until you were asleep before starting his walk. But there were times you catch him, calling out to him like the neighborhood cat trying to get away. Getting on your own shoes and jacket quickly. Then enforcing the handholding during the little adventure.

It’s only when passing by something important that words are shared. “One of my buddies worked here when this place was a mechanic. Broke his leg just before the draft, I still think it was on purpose.” He’d say then never bring it up again.

These walks are always shorter than most. After two times Bucky learned when to make the loop back home with you. When your building comes back into view the handholding has gotten sweaty. The walking had slowed to a crawl and you were dragging him down by the arm. Even less talking was done after getting through the door; just landing face down onto the bed without bothering about the shoes.

These kind of walks were Bucky’ favorite.

Natasha Romanoff:

The bed was used almost exclusively for sleeping. As the couch was both comfy and expensive. And, as Nat puts it, “Should we do it with the lights off too? Under the covers like grandparents?” Although it was probably another reason to use the overpriced couch more often.

Like any good, and overworked, soldier Nat could sleep anywhere. When a mission is done, and there’s nothing to worry about, a shower and a nap is the best in the world.

“I smell nice,” She says walking into the living after the shower. Steam still behind her, hair wrapped up and a sweater purposefully bought to be several sizes too big.

She stretches and lays over you like a cat. Resting as close as possible so you, too, can smell the expensive shampoo she uses. Making sure that the body wash isn’t ignored either as that, too, was expensive.

“Might as well spend this pay on something,” She says when asked about the prices.

Although she asks what you’re up to she won’t be awake for the answer. Already teetering into sleep land when you answer.

Natasha was as athletic as she was heavy. Only sometimes managing to carry her bridal style and most of the time having to walk/guide her into the bedroom. Either letting her drop onto the bed with the same weight you had carried in, or she holds fast and takes you down with her.

Just like a cat, Natasha gets to decide cuddle time.

T’challa:

Although the mattress was new, the bed’s size was traditional, and passed on through generations of rulers. Forget California king bed, A Wakanda king bed was that and a half. Ten feet length, twelve feet tall. Combined with blankets, pillows and more it was easy to disappear into the thing. But it was also easy to get lost in it all.

In the middle of the night, in the very center of this ocean of bed, you can reach out forever. Finding pillows (both the decorative and the usable kind), smaller blankets or stuffed animals that have managed to be added. But it’s a tiresome journey, one that doesn’t seem to have an end even as you stretched to pointed toes and fingers.

It’s only after touching body heat that you can relax. Finally finding your king that turns to your touch. Making his own journey through sheets and bedding. Using you as the trail into his love. Neither of you thinking about the absolute nightmare it will be to make this bed tomorrow.

Pietro Maximoff:

For most of his life Pietro is moving. Be it running or just running his mouth, he’s not the kind of guy to sit still. Unfortunately, this also applies to sleeping.

“He’s been sleep walking since we were children,” Wanda once said. “Our father once found him crying in a puddle. He had slipped and woken up in the street. He’ll deny crying, though.”

As an adult Pietro doesn’t actively get up and walk around anymore. The man made up of strong and lean muscle still moves quite a bit. Waking up from freezing feet finding yours or because he’s sat upright in bed again. Using soft, but firm, pressure to get him to lay back down or to guide him back to his side of the bed. If you weren’t careful his arms would find you, almost dragging you back to his side of the bed.

He'd deny it in the morning. Smiling with barely open eyes as you’re still pressed against him. No matter how much you’re going to insist this was his fault he’d still mock you. Nuzzling in since you insist on cuddling so much.

Peter Parker:

There’s a time limit next when sitting next to Peter. You have ten minutes before his head finds your shoulder. If you don’t shrug or lean away he’ll stay there, slowly leaning in until he’s all settled.

Although not completely asleep he does rest. If your hands are held in those moments you could probably feel his pulse slow down as his breathing slows. Maybe his eyes manage to stay open, but his eyes do get heavy. Someone could say his name, and he’d respond, but it be from his throat. An annoyed groan directed to whoever was ruining this moment. Even if it was usually a teacher or adult.

It’s only when traveling, and you’re sitting for a while, that he completely falls asleep. Progressing past just leaning his head and adding his arms. If you allow him, putting an arm around your back and the other over your center. With your own arm over his back, he sleeps in a position that, although sweet, always left a pain in his neck. Something he’d complain about until you ask if he want’s you to rub his shoulders.

Stephen Strange:

During aura projection Stephen’s body is dead weight. No muscles or bone working with the individual trying to help them. It’s just taken over by gravity and his entire weight wants to be on the floor. Sleep does the same thing.

Short of a bucket of water to his face he won’t wake up. Part of his experience in med school was taking every bit of use sleep could give him. Which leads to sleeping fast, and sleeping hard, usually opened mouth. No snoring yet, but the moment he does there’s an open target for shutting him up.

Matt Murdock:

It’s a mixture of meditation and caffeine that he is still functioning. Too busy, much too busy, as a lawyer for the two of you to share a bed most of the time. Making any comments you have about his sleep schedule mute.

Watching him doesn’t change give any information either. Coffee in the morning, some deep breathing and self-centering in the between moments at work, and sleep ins on days off were all you could gather. Between that it’s easier to just assume he’s fine.

Just laugh at his “not like I need to rest my eyes,” jokes and move on.

Carol Danvers:

After going through every time change known to man, alien and beyond Carol has developed a very specific still. Carol Danvers, woman with the power of a star and to sleep literally anywhere at any time. Be it a cleared-out corner of some ship, an open floor that keeps her hidden from passersby or on your lap. The latter being her personal favorite.

Like a massive golden retriever, she wants to be in the middle of your lap. Close as possible with a arm holding around your shoulder and the other on her toy, or phone.  A being of wiry muscle and heat keeping you pinned to the couch. Most of the time she’s out ten minutes into the movie, most of the time the remotes’ out of reach, and most of the time you gotta go pee.

[kuronanox]

Our little secret-Kaien Shiba

"Kaien Shiba my super hot professor."

(Your Name) day dreams with brightful eyes as she sighs and smiles sheepishly.

"(Last Name)!" Kaien shouts smacking her desk with his rolled up paper as she flinched and looks up to him. His brows were knit and focused. "If you keep day dreaming you'll fall behind!"

"Ahh I'm sorry." She apologizes and bows her head respectfully as he laughs and grins.

"I'm joking, but seriously you should try to concentrate more."

(Your Name) chuckles and mentally screams, her tiny heart would hurt if he actually yelled at her.

"Wait he knows my name?!"

She looks back up and Kaien was already at the chalk board lecturing on the next chapter. With one hand on his hip and the other writing some unknown language on the board.

"Concentrate concentrate concentrate!"

She tries to smack her face lightly as she looks lower to stare at his butt and blushes a bit yelping as the students around her stared and she looked down embarrassed.

Once lecture was done she sighed from exhaustion and packed her bag before her name was called out.

"(Last Name)." Kaien calls out as most of the student cleared out of his lecture room and she mentally cursed.

"Yes sensei?" (Your Name) asks staring at her feet interested with the patterns of her new shoes.

"You can look up." He laughs a bit with both his hand on his hips. His tie moving along with his laugh and his tucked in shirt was so irresistible for her she licked her lips. "Anyways I was looking back at some of your test scores and you are falling behind! Is everything alright?" He asks now a bit concerned.

"No! Everything is fine! I'm just not understanding the material and I don't wanna stop class because of my selfish reasons."

Kaien pokes her forehead and grunts, lightly hitting the roll of paper on her head. "Everyone is here to learn. I guarantee someone else have the same question as you too."

(Your Name) goes back to looking at her shoes shyly as the older man sighs but in a concerning way. "How about I tutor you for 30 min after class each day you are here. Monday, Wednesday, Friday." His eyes raising for her answer as she slowly nods.

"I'm sure you are a busy man and I don't have money for a tutor."

"Don't worry about it, my students come first." He assures her with a smile as she smiles back.

"Jesus he's gorgeous! I can't believe he offered to help me learn on his own time for free!"

"I'll see you next week then!" Kaien cheers smacking her head once again before walking out the classroom.

The following weekend for her was so slow because she was excited to spend one on one time with him.

"He's my professor though! It would be wrong to like him! I'm sure he's married or dating already! I mean I should be too because I'm a junior year college student but still a teacher and student relationship would be to spicy."

Throwing her pillow across the room she squirmed in her bed like a fan girl. "A girl can dream though."

Composing herself she went onto her phone and searched through all social media to "research" him some more but she found nothing.

"Maybe he doesn't use social media? He ain't that old yet though." Putting her phone aside she closed her eyes and waited for Monday to come quickly.

Lecture time came as she sat towards the front of the class to concentrate more. Still this chapter and chapters before overlapped each other and she felt super lost and defeated.

Kaien would teach and sometimes look at her direction and from the expression on her face he knew she was struggling. Once the classroom cleared out he arranged his desk to be more roomy for her to set her things down.

"Cha! Are you ready?" He asks enthusiastically opening up his notes from a few chapters back.

She smiled and sat next to him as they got to work.

Over the course of their their tutoring sessions 30 minutes turned to 40, till it reached an hour and then till after dark.

Kaien didn't realized how much he was enjoyed her company that at times they would get off subject and just talked about themselves or their likes.

"I didn't think a 30 year old man would actually enjoy tutoring." He says to her as she gasped picking up her book bag and getting ready to leave their session.

"To be fair I didn't think a 22 year old girl would need tutoring."

Kaien waved her off, closing his classroom up. Looking out the window it was pouring all day. "Did you park in the garage today?" He asks putting his coat on.

"I did actually!"

"Me too, we can walk together."

The walk was normal it didn't seem like a teacher and student relationship, it was more like friends now. To Kaien there was nothing wrong with opening up your options even though he had none.

"You are still young (Your Name) go to parties and have fun." He tells her as she looks up to him, his eyes showed a bit of sadness but she couldn't figure out what.

"30 isn't old! But then again to see your professor at a party would be kinda sus."

Kaien chuckles and shook his head as they made it to the elevator. It was silent but her heart was racing.

They've spent a lot of time with each other since he offered to tutor her but she wanted to know him more. There was a part of him she could tell was missing.

"How was your college life?"

"Wild I did so many things." He tells her placing his hands in his pockets.

"Ahh me too, there are some pretty crazy frat parties." She tells him lightly as he laughs out loud.

"Tell me about it! I've been to plenty."

As they enter the garage, the rain started to pour harder as lightning mixed with the clouds.

"Will you be okay getting home in this rain?"

"Don't worry! I can wait it off on campus." She assures him as he shakes in head and unlock his car, opening his passenger seat.

"You wanna go to the bar? It's only a block down. We can wait it off there and then I'll drive you back to your car."

A part of her wanted to say no only because it seemed wrong to be drinking with her professor but she knew she wasn't a minor or some kid. It was totally fine and it wasn't like she was sleeping with him for better grades.

With a bright smile she gladly took a seat. "Sure!"

To her surprise the bar was pretty busy and it was blasting with music and people all ages mingling. He asked for a booth and took a seat across from her.

"He has to be interested if he took me to a bar or even offered to go out!"

Looking at the menu Kaien offered to pay for the night.

"Don't worry about it! I'm sure we are hungry also, it's been a long day."

(Your Name) was hesitant at first but gave in only because he wouldn't let her pay for nothing since he invited her out. They had a few rounds of drinks and it was easy for her to talk to him because Kaien was pretty open about everything.

"Yeah I remember falling down the stairs at a frat house blacked out in the bathtub after trying to get home." He tells her laughing his ass off thinking about his college days.

"Yeah it took 7 people to carry me out the house, I was dead weight and woke up in my friends house with different clothes." (Your Name) says sharing her side of stories as well.

"So you're a drinker? I wouldn't have thought." Kaien states as he drank the rest of his water. (Your Name) looks at her watch, it was about to hit midnight and the rain was slowing down enough to drive in.

"It's getting kinda late, I'm pretty sure your family is waiting for you." She says nonchalantly without realizing it may have been a sensitive topic.

Kaien slightly frowns but not enough to show discomfort. He kindly smiles to her after and says "no family, it's just me and I."

Her eyes widen in realization as she quickly apologized and bowed her head. He chuckles and ruffles her hair. "Don't worry, no offense taken. It gets lonely at times but I bare with it. Come on I'll drive you to your car."

The whole night they went out he was a gentleman, opening the car door and the bar door. Holding her bag and paying for dinner. It felt nice.

As they rode back she had to ask him, she wanted to know what this was.

"Kaien?" She asks and the way his name came off her lips felt foreign.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think this is weird? Going out to drink with one of your students and spending a lot of time with me even after tutoring me?"

There was a silence for a moment before he spoke truthfully.

"At first I was skeptical but we are both adults and what we decide to do shouldn't have to matter with imagine or what people think. That means yes I enjoy your company and I do like you."

(Your Name) blushed a bit, he admit to like spending time with her and hinted he didn't wanna stop either.

"How'd you know I like you?"

He smirks and shakes his head before pulling into the garage. "Word spreads fast around my students apparently."

Turning off his car Kaien walked her into her car so she would get home safely.

"(Your Name) if it's out of your comfort zone we could always try after you graduate." He seriously says to her leaning into her window as she gulped to how close he was to her.

"No I don't feel uncomfortable, I just didn't think this would actually be happening."

"Expect the unexpected." He says as she chuckles to how corny that was. "It can be our little secret for a while." Kaien adds with a toothy grin and she smiles.

"Yeah, our little secret for a while."

(Author Note: idk why I feel like I could make this one shot better but then it would turn to a whole story)

[haikyuupaladin]

One Day

Since today is Epilepsy Awareness day, I thought I’d write a fic that raises some awareness for epilepsy. It’s a day in Asahi’s life with epilepsy. I hope you all enjoy! See the end for some important notes!

***

Asahi groaned as he rolled over in bed and looked at his alarm clock. His eyes blew open in surprise when he saw how late it was. “Shit. I’m going to be late for practice.” He ran to the bathroom with his volleyball clothes in hand, splashing his face with water, brushing his teeth, and quickly taking his meds as he tried to get dressed as quickly as possible at the same time. Once he’d done that, he threw some bread in the toaster and scrambled to make sure he had everything he needed for the day in his backpack and gym bag. When the toast was done, he quickly grabbed everything and ran out the door, eating the toast as he ran to practice.  

“Sorry I’m late!” He called out as he burst through the doors of the gym, trying to catch his breath.

“Oi, Azumane!” Coach Ukai called out and he winced. He’d only been back on the team for a week. This was not the impression he wanted to make on the new coach. “Warm up and then I want to talk to you for a bit!”

“Ok!” Asahi yelped. A week of being back and he was sure to get kicked off the team already at this rate. Coach Ukai probably thought he was being lazy and avoiding practice, never mind the fact that the rest of the team had just barely finished their warmups when he’d made it there. Their last coach had been super strict about attendance and Daichi had said that the new coach was his grandson, so Asahi was wary. 

He did his warmups as carefully as possible, putting off the lecture he was sure to receive, but eventually, there was nothing more he could do to warmup. He slowly stride over to where Coach Ukai was sitting on the bench, flipping through something on his clipboard. 

“Sit,” the man gestured to the bench beside him, and Asahi reluctantly joined him.

“I really am sorry I was late today coach, it won’t happen again! I must’ve slept through my alarm but I promise I’ll make sure I’m early tomorrow to make up for it!” Asahi started rambling until he was given a strange look and interrupted.

“What? No no no, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. You’re like… five minutes late, it’s not a big deal as long as you don’t make it a habit to be late every day.” Asahi let out a sigh of relief. 

“What did you want to talk to me about then?” Asahi asked, wracking his brain for any other topics he should be worried about.

“The school just finally gave me your file,” Ukai told him and Asahi froze. 

“If this is about that fight with Noya last year I promise that won’t happen again either!” Asahi panicked.

Ukai gave him a deadpan stare. “Will you let me finish what I’m saying before you start panicking?! You’re not in trouble, that was already dealt with and frankly, as long as it doesn’t affect the team going forward,  I don’t really care. What I do care about is the fact that I’m technically responsible for you kids now. I wanted to talk to you about the medical section of your records.”

Asahi sighed, in relief but also frustration. “Oh. That. Yeah, I have epilepsy, it shouldn’t interfere with volleyball though. Well except for some of my doctor’s appointments but I can schedule those around anything major. I haven’t had a seizure in a year and a half and on the off chance something did happen, all the third years and Tanaka and Noya know and they all know what to do.” By the time he was halfway through his explanation, Asahi was no longer sure if he was trying to reassure the coach or himself. Just because his meds were working, didn’t mean there wasn’t the possibility of a breakthrough seizure at any time, and if that happened, it could interfere with volleyball, and that was the absolute last thing he wanted. 

“Is there anything I should look out for?” Ukai pressed. 

“Trust me, if something happens, you’ll know,” he laughed,  slightly bitter. 

“I know that kid,” groaned Ukai. “I meant like… before.”

“Not really,”  Asahi shrugged. “My parents say they can tell by my eyes but I don’t really know what they mean by that.” 

Ukai nodded. “And let’s say something does happen, what should I do?” 

“Mainly just time it and get anything I can hurt myself on away from me” Asahi mumbled wanting to get away from this conversation now. He knew the coach was trying to be helpful, but talking about it like this was making him more nervous that something would happen, and that was the last thing he wanted to think about right now. “Can I go join practice now?” 

“Sure,” Ukai pinched the bridge of his nose, looking frustrated. “Just… let me know if you need anything, okay?”

Asahi nodded cautiously before running off to join the rest of the team in spiking drills. 

***

“What was that all about earlier?” Suga asked when they stopped for a water break. 

“You’re not in trouble or anything are you? I can talk to coach if you are,” Daichi chimed in.

“It was nothing like that,” Asahi shook his head, appreciating his friends’ concern. “He wanted to talk about my epilepsy.”

Suga raised an eyebrow at that. “Really? He does know you haven’t had a seizure since first year, right?”

“I mean, it makes sense though,” Daichi shrugged. “I don’t think he has any experience with that sort of stuff, makes sense he’d be a little freaked out I guess.” 

Kiyoko nodded quietly beside him. 

“It was kind of embarrassing though,” Asahi admitted, whining. 

“Why?” Daichi laughed.

“I’m pretty sure none of the first years even noticed,” Kiyoko said, placing a hand on Asahi's back comfortingly. 

“Hinata and Kageyama definitely didn’t,” Suga said, eyes sparkling with laughter. “They were too busy fighting, I’m not even sure what started it,but Tsukishima was encouraging it.”

“And you were doing nothing to stop it,” Daichi pointed out. “I can’t believe you’re my vice captain sometimes.”

“Hey! Let me have my fun!” Suga complained. “I would’ve stepped in if it got out of control but it was amusing and you seemed to have it under control anyway.”

Asahi relaxed as the conversation turned towards the antics of the first years. Suga always knew just how to steer the conversation how he wanted to, and not for the first time, Asahi was glad that Suga used that for his benefit sometimes. 

***

The rest of practice had gone by without incident, Kiyoko and Suga were right, nobody else had even noticed Coach Ukai calling him over, or if they did they’d chosen not to ask about it. The conversation had made Asahi more aware of potential auras than usual though, and it had been hard to focus in class. He had a weird headache for a bit during third period and he’d spent most of class muttering to himself and fidgeting with his hands, trying to focus on the fact that his jaw and hands seemed to be working just fine, finding reassurance in that, though he was still nervous.  He’d have to ask Kiyoko for the notes later. 

It was lunchtime now though, and Asahi hoped that his friends would be a welcome distraction from his worries. “Asahi! Hey!” Noya called out as Asahi exited his classroom. He chuckled fondly and shook his head.

“Hey Noya, what’s up?” 

Noya regaled Asahi with stories of his day as they walked to meet up with Daichi, Suga, and Tanaka. How Noya always had so much to say, Asahi would never know but he was grateful for it right now, the conversation kept him from getting too stuck in his own head. He grinned as they spotted the others and joined them, the rest of his worries melting away for the moment as they fell into easy conversation, Daichi scolding Noya and Tanaka for their antics as Suga egged them on. 

After practice, Daichi, Suga, and Kiyoko walked home with Asahi for their weekly movie night. He’d been avoiding them during his time off the team, but it was nice to see how quickly they fell back into these old habits with him. He’d missed Daichi and Suga’s teasing and their laughter and how they would jostle him around, and he’d missed how Kiyoko would giggle at their antics despite her halfhearted futile attempts to get them to behave.

He was even more grateful for how easily they fell back into old habits when the movie they chose ended up having more flashing lights than he remembered. On another day he might’ve been able to brush it off and keep watching, but despite having calmed down from earlier, he was still being more vigilant than usual, so he covered his eyes and looked away. Suga noticed and paused the movie.

“Shit, sorry Asahi, we forgot how bad this part can get. You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Asahi mumbled, a little self conscious about how nervous he was. On any other day he’d be able to handle this so it was a little embarrassing to be avoiding them right now.

“So how are we doing this?” Daichi asked casually. “Different movie or do you want us to narrate for you?”

Asahi laughed. He’d almost forgotten how easily his friends adapted to these situations for him. 

“Narrating’s fine. We all like this movie and if we have to pick a new one we’ll have to reschedule movie night with how long it’ll take us to decide.”

Daichi laughed. “That’s true. Ok then, you ready to start back up?” 

Asahi nodded, and soon the room was filled with more laughter than before as Daichi and Suga humorously described what was going on, with Kiyoko chiming in with quiet corrections or details that the other two were forgetting to mention. Asahi couldn’t help but laugh at some of the descriptions his friends were using and his heart filled with warmth as his friends did their best to make sure he didn’t miss anything about the movie, even throwing in some of their usual jokes about the movie in their descriptions.

***

Later that night, Asahi’s friends escorted themselves out and headed home. He still lay on the couch, too tired to move, but groaning as he knew he had to. He wanted to pass out on the couch, but he had to go take his nighttime dose of his meds. He lay there for a few more minutes before finally deciding if he didn’t get up now, he wasn’t going to be able to and dragging himself off the couch. He walked drowsily to the bathroom, blearily took his meds and then stumbled to bed. It had been a long day, but a good one, he smiled to himself as he fell asleep.

*** 

Notes time! First I want to make it clear that the medical side of things depicted here is based on my personal epilepsy and should not be read as a one size fits all type of deal. 

Second, Ukai’s assumption that it will be noticeable when Asahi has a seizure is accurate for Asahi, but not for everyone. Some types of seizures are barely noticeable on the outside, if at all, and even then you have o know what you’re looking for. 

Third, Asahi’s explanation of seizure first aid is not a complete explanation, for more on seizure first aid please look at https://www.epilepsy.com/living-epilepsy/seizure-first-aid-and-safety (I’m not making it a link so it will show up in the tags, but I have provided the entire url).

Fourth, an aura is a warning sign or set of warning signs leading up to a seizure. Not everyone has one, and it can be hard to recognize it if you do sometimes. 

And fifth, Please take today as an opportunity to learn more about epilepsy. www.epilepsy.com and www.talkaboutit.org are my personal favorite starting points to recommend, as well as reading through some of the blogs in the epilepsy community here on tumblr. 

[atsukashii]

❝soft hours❞ // k. bakugou

SYNOPSIS:  ➛ The world knows Katsuki Bakugou as the explosive number two pro hero. You know him as your husband who is soft for only three people on the planet; you and your children.  

» CHARACTER PAIRING: prohero!katsuki bakugou x reader

» WORD COUNT: 3.3k

» GENRE: pro-hero!katsuki, aged up characters, dad bakugou

» WARNINGS: swearing, fluff to the max & dad katsuki

« masterlist || ao3 »

Being a mother is hard work. 

You aren’t sure how your own made it look so damn easy, because it is anything but. When it was just you, your husband, and your son it was easy enough. But adding another baby to the mix? 

You have never been more tired in your entire life.

For the past month of her life, Koharu had been a good sleeper, with a chill and calm temperament that you, your mother, and mother-in-law; Mitsuki Bakugou all agreed did not come from your husband. But the past two days were a lot different. She had regressed... A lot. With Katsuki back at work, barely able to take time off due to being a high ranking pro hero, you were left to your own devices with the newborn. He had offered to help of course, but you had this. How hard could it be? You’d said confidently.

You’re not so confident now.

Just yesterday, you had struggled to put her to sleep when Katsuki came and managed to do it in less than ten minutes. And honestly, for a second were jealous of your husband. But then he had stumbled over nothing, swearing like a sailor and the wailing began again.

“Suki, don’t swear at the baby!” You had laughed

“I didn’t swear at the baby sweetheart, I swore at the fucking toy Kazuto left on the floor”

“Suki!��

“Kazuto, how many times do I have to tell you to pick up your toys once you're done playing with them?”

“Sorry, dad!” That moment had made you feel a lot better about your parenting abilities. 

Today, however, with Katsuki out on patrol, and your son at preschool, it left you and Koharu alone for some girl time. Time, that was spent with you completely frazzled and desperate to help your baby to stop crying and go back to sleep.

But. Nothing. Was. Working. 

After four hours, she finally fell asleep purely out of exhaustion, but not before you had called your own mother, crying on the phone. You weren’t a bad mother, you were just adjusting… Right? All parents had off days with their children, no one was perfect. Though when you had picked up your phone in a moment of peace and mistakenly opened up Instagram, you took one look at a young influencer and her designer baby, looking like she stepped out of a damn magazine… You couldn’t help but compare it to the sweats you wore to bed the night before that you still hadn’t changed out of, the spit up on your shirt, and the bags under your eyes. This is normal, you’d had to remind yourself over and over again as you had put your daughter back into her crib.

Stirring the curry you quickly threw together for dinner, you are ripped from your gloomy thoughts as the noise of the front door opening meets your ears. The door was quickly followed by the voice of a very energetic three-year-old carrying what you know to be the Red Riot merch backpack he takes everywhere. It was a gift from his Uncle Kirishima that Katsuki hates, but puts up with for the sake of his son's happiness. You also know that he has a Chargebolt T-shirt in his closet that he wears to preschool sometimes and cherishes it dearly. His favorite though, is his mini grenade toys based on Katsuki’s own hero costume. For Kazuto’s first birthday, you’d had a hero theme and you couldn’t help but dress him up like your husband, but when you did - with his white-blonde hair and red eyes - he looked like a tiny Katsuki. It was too cute. 

“And-and then he kicked the villain SO HARD that he flew across the sky! He’s so cool!” Explains Kazuto, jumping up and down in excitement. 

“Mmhmm,” Katsuki adds, making it sound like he was paying attention, and encouraging his son to keep rambling about his enormous love for heroes. You won’t be surprised if he follows in his father's footsteps and becomes a pro hero in the future, with his quirk already arrived and causing havoc through your home. 

Your own quirk - Bloom; allowing you to create whatever kind of flora you want, wherever you want, had gotten you into the general studies course at U.A. Which is where you had met your platonic soulmate, Mina Ashido. You had instantly clicked with her when you had met at the end of your first year, and then through her, you met Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, and Katsuki. At first, you hadn’t known what to think of the explosive blonde, and he didn’t seem to want much to do with you. That was until one day when you and Mina had convinced them all to hang out at an arcade, a villain attacked the street outside. Being not in the Hero course and not having a provisional license, you had left your friends to do their thing. It wasn’t however until the end that you had noticed a young boy, crying and calling for his mother. The villain had a super strength quirk and ended up throwing cars out of his way in an attempt to escape. Seeing what was about to happen before it did, you had lunged into action, throwing yourself over the boy and activating your quirk around you to create a wall of wooden spears the size of Redwoods. You had saved the child, gotten the lecture of a lifetime from Katsuki that ended in him confessing more than he wanted about how he felt about your safety. You were dating a month later and had been together ever since. You had also discovered what you wanted to do after school that day. Deciding you wanted to help people, you became a social worker that helps children who have lost their families.

Your son Kazuto’s quirk was closer to yours than your husband’s quirk, with the three-year-old having the ability to manipulate earth. His favorite thing was watching Avatar: The Last Airbender and trying to recreate what the Earth Benders did - in your living room, much to your chagrin. And you had a feeling that Koharu’s quirk was going to be something like Katsuki’s due to the fact that the baby smelt similar to your husband. 

“Hi, mum!” Kazuto shouts loudly, poking his head in the kitchen. He flashes you a smile broken by a new missing tooth, before racing down the hallway like he is set on a permanent setting of a sprint. 

“Hi you two,” You say, smiling as your husband comes into the kitchen in his casual street clothes, opting to change at the agency. 

“Hang up your bag Kazuto!” Bakugou yells after him and you pray that you have remembered to shut the nursery door. You hear a muffled response form your three-year-old before the sound of his feet dashing up the staircase and the momentary silence that follows has you sighing in relief. She's still out.

Walking over to you, Katsuki wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder. His strong arms pull you back to his chest as he looks over your shoulder to see what you’re cooking. Really, the quick curry was a bit pathetic, but after your long day, you didn’t have the willpower to cook anything fancy. As is sensing the tension in your muscles, Katsuki didn’t say a word about the food, which was a first. You were actually a good cook, but your husband was better and loved to tease you about it any second he could. So the fact that he currently stands behind you not saying a word was odd. 

“Your mother called me today.” Katsuki murmurs, his voice soft and full of concern. You sigh glumly knowing where this conversation is going. You had hoped your mother wouldn’t say anything to Katsuki after you’d called her today, in tears from frustration and insecurities falling from your lips like a boiling pot. It had been a bad day, everyone was allowed to have some bad days.

“Sweetheart, if you need help with the baby-” 

“It’s really fine Suki, it was just an off day.” You say, leaning your head back on his chest and tilting it back just enough so that you could meet his ruby gaze. “Besides, you can’t take any more time off work.” Leaning back up again, you grab the wooden spoon and stir the red sauce. Katsuki lets out a breath before moving with you, pressing a soft kiss to your neck. 

“I can take a fucking day off Y/n.” He mutters against your skin. A shiver runs up your spine and spreads down your arms, making your hair rise. Even after all these years, he still has the ability to render you to a pile of mush. 

“Your team will have my head if you take another day off, Suki.” You point out.

“Then I’ll blast them to hell after I fire them.” His response makes you smile, as he turns you around in his arms. His signature scowl covers his face, but it's the concern in his eyes that has your heart squeezing tight. He’s really worried, you realize. “Let me help you, sweetheart.” 

“Suki-” The sound of Koharu’s ear-piercing wails breaks the silence and has you resting your forehead on your husband's chest. “I’ve got her.” He says, placing a kiss to the crown of your head and giving your hips a reassuring squeeze before slinking out of the kitchen. You are so lucky to have him. 

To this day, Katsuki is still blunt and rash with the media, but people don’t really get to see the side of him that comes out with his family. He tries not to let his friends even witness it because they all give him endless shit about how much of a softie he is for his family. He denies it to hell whenever one of them brings it up, but after both the kids were born, Katsuki cried. Not a lot, just a few stray tears that engraved itself into your mind so heavily. With a sappy smile, you move the curry off the stove and begin dishing it up. As you finish, Kazuto comes wandering in on his own accord which surprises you. Normally, either you or Katsuki would have to go and get him or yell that dinner was done for the three-year-old to make an appearance. 

His vermillion gaze meets yours, and smiles. “Dad sent me down, he’s trying to put Koko to sleep,” Kazuto explains. You nod in understanding, walking the food over to the dining table. You only serve portions for you and your son, knowing that there's a chance Katsuki might not make it back down in time to eat with you. Once you are seated, you look at Kazuto and smile which is enough of an open look to make him start rambling about his day. Pro Hero’s are the first thing to come up, re-explaining the battle that one of his teachers had shown him through lunchtime, followed by his friends and then what he ate for lunch - as if you hadn’t been the one to make his lunch.

“It’s ‘Bring your parents to class day’, soon. Will you come?” His words shock you, and for a moment you just sit there blinking at your son. Kazuto looks up at you with such hope in his eyes, it makes you want to cry.

“You don’t want your dad to go?” You ask. You love Kazuto endlessly and would do anything for the sake of your children's happiness and safety, but you know that Kazuto and Katsuki have a special connection. One built on trust, love, and how much Kazuto looks up to his father as a pro hero. He truly is his father's biggest fan and honestly, it's beautiful. 

“It’s during the day, so he will probably have work. And I want you to come, you're a hero too mummy! You help save kids and help them find families.” Tears spring to your eyes, both at his admiration and the fact it's been a long day, and you so needed to hear that. Because you were a hero in your own way, you were a savior to the children you worked with. Guilt then followed behind the thought. Would I be a bad person if I didn’t go back to work then? If I wasn’t there to help them? You shake the thought from your head and look back to your son. 

“Thanks, honey,” you subtly wipe under your eyes and shove another spoonful of curry back into your mouth. “I’d be more happy than happy to come, but you might also want to ask your dad too so he doesn’t feel left out.” Kazuto nods his head ecstatically at your words before shoveling more food into his mouth. You muffle a quiet laugh at his antics. Yeah, he’s your son when it comes to his love for food.

“I also decided about my party this year for my birthday,” Kazuto says again. 

“Your birthday?” You ask, pretending to think. “No, it can’t be coming up. I clearly remember your birthday being last year!” The teasing tone goes over his head as he scrunches his face up in a pout. 

“It is! I’m four!” He argues, and you don’t hold in the smile 

“Are you sure?” You feign ignorance like you didn’t remember your own son's birthday. Finally catching on, he groans at you. 

“Muuuuummmmm...”

“Your birthday…” you begin and Kazuto beams in response before continuing on.

“Can it just be us at my party? With Aunt Mina and my uncles and cousins? I know they all might be really busy being heroes…” He asks and you're once again surprised by your son. Not one for flashy things, and not wanting to spend his outside of school time with his friends, but his family. It's adorable. His temperament at times like these takes after you so much, even though he’s the carbon copy of his father. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” you say winking, knowing that your friends would do anything for your little family. Including taking an afternoon off to spend it with their godson. Noticing he's done, you move to get his plate and gesture towards the stairs. “Why don’t you go clean up and check on your dad.” Kazuto nods and quickly scampers out of the room.

You clean up the kitchen quickly, putting leftovers in a dish and placing them in the fridge for Katsuki to raid later on. Leaving on the kitchen light, you walk out of the kitchen and past the living room to go up the stairs when the TV catches your eye. In the lounge, your eyes fall to the couch which holds your now sleeping husband and your one-month-old daughter, completely comatose on his chest. Old reruns of Friends plays quietly in the background, a show you watched compulsively whilst you were pregnant with Koharu. Squatting down next to Katsuki, you can’t help but smile at the peaceful expression on their faces. 

As if sensing your presence, Katsuki cracks open an eye, instinctively finding you. “Finally got her down I see,” you whisper, thumbing the blonde hair on the baby's head.

“Our kids fucking love me. I’ve got the magic touch.” He says and you grin.

“Oh, I’m fully aware. Mr. Tough-Explosion-man to the world, but here at home - with a sleeping baby on his chest. You’re really soft, Suki.” He now smiles at you but doesn’t make a move to reject the statement.

“Where’s Kazuto?” Katsuki asks, looking over the back of the couch to the clock on the back wall of the lounge. 

“He’s gone to wash up.” You reply, leaning forwards and picking up Koharu with very practiced and perfected stealth to take her to her crib. “He should be done by now. I’m going to put this one in her crib.” You finish, walking up the stairs and into the nursery. With baby blue painted walls and clouds that you had painstakingly illustrated whilst you had left all the assembly of things to Katsuki because the man practically growled at you when you moved to lift something. Turning on the baby monitor in Koharu’s room before quietly slipping through the door, you trudge down the hall towards the master bedroom. On your way past it, you innocently pole your head into Kazuto’s room, seeing Katsuki leaning against the wall next to Kazuto’s bed as they speak quietly amongst themselves. Every time you come into your son's room it makes you smile. The walls are covered in pro hero posters of people like his uncles and his dad. There’s even one of Deku that Katsuki doesn’t like, but once again, puts up with for his son. Kazuto’s eyes lock onto you whilst still talking to his father and you blow him a kiss before leaving the boys to their chatter. 

Closing the door behind you, you make quick work of jumping in the shower and washing your hair for - when was the last time you had washed your hair? To be honest you weren’t sure. 

With that thought, you finish your bathroom routine and get into your comfiest pajamas which consists of one of your husband's t-shirts, a favorite of yours since high-school. Beelining to the bed, you crawl under the covers and let the exhaustion of today leak out of your bones. Tomorrow was a new day, you remind yourself. It was something you found yourself frequently saying when you were overwhelmed and today, you had reached your limit. You only just close your eyes when your door opens, and Katsuki’s walks in. He’s quick and quiet like usual, but as soon as he gets in the bed, he pulls you towards him. He holds you tightly, your back against his chest - which you know won’t last for long because it's summer and the man is like a walking furnace. Placing a kiss against the back of your head, you finally decide to voice the thought that had been plaguing you all day.

“I’m thinking of taking more time off work.” Katsuki’s arms solidify around you. “Like, longer than my maternity leave.” You finish. To be honest, you weren't sure how best to broach the topic with him, even though you’ve been married for over four years now and together twice that long. You’re a very independent person and always liked having your own source of income. And relying on someone for that - there’s nothing wrong with it, you just weren’t sure that was for you. But lately, something changed. Maybe it was adding another baby to the mix, but you’ve been wanting to spend more time focusing on your kids and your husband, rather than work. 

The agency would be fine without me. Katsuki’s arms tighten around you as he helps you roll over towards him. His eyes are filled with pride and love as you look up at him. Placing his hand on your cheek, Katsuki gives you a soft smile.

“You know I’ll support everything you do. The other people at your agency will struggle for a while without you because you basically carry everyone in that fucking place.” Katsuki says. “But they will be okay. You’re the love of my life y/n, a great wife and the best mother to our little gremlins.” The buildup of stress from today bubbles over and you can’t hold in the tears. As fast as they fall, Katsuki brushes them away before placing a soft kiss on your lips. 

“I love you so much sweetheart,” A broken sob breaks out of your mouth before you can stop it which has Katsuki kissing your forehead and grasping you tighter, tucking your head under his chin. 

“Shitty woman, let me fucking help you.” He whispers and you nod against his chest. 

“I love you, Suki.” Your voice is smothered against his skin, so you place a tender kiss to the bare skin of his chest in response. Running his hands down your spine and his warm body pressed to yours, you slowly drift to sleep. Your husband really is a softy at heart. 

©️ 2021 all rights reserved to atsukashii, do not change, edit, translate, or repost any works on any platform.

[ikehorganics]

HOW TO REDUCE BINGE

EATING OVEREATING,

AND BORED EATING:

disclaimer: i am aware that binge eating is an eating disorder, but not a lot of people have access to professionals to help them, and this guide could help a number of people struggling with binge eating, it could be successful to some binge eaters but not all. i hope this assists you, and this all comes from a place of good faith not malicious intent. i am also aware that binge eating does NOT equate to bored eating or overeating.

skip the preface if you want to skip straight to the tips!

PREFACE:

I have been in quarantine for nearly nine months, and I have struggled with multiple aspects of my everyday life that have had to be changed and adapted to the new rules of society. Since the beginning, I have always preached about staying in doors, social distancing, not going out to into open places without a mask etc because this is a direct reflection of the respect you have for yourself and the people around you. In this strong belief, I found myself struggling to juggle being a first year university student, my fitness, mental health, food and constantly being bored within my house.

Food was the hardest aspect, and with being surrounded by food 24/7, weight gain was inevitable. At first, I had not realised how I ate on a regular basis, I woke up at 6am, and would be at uni between 8am and 5pm from monday to thursday, where i would usually only eat one meal and a snack between that, whether it be left overs from dinner for lunch and an apple or piece of fruit for when i feel a bit peckish, and 2litres of water. My day consisted of four lectures ranging from 1 hour to two hours and walking around a lot because I hated sitting for a long time, and occasionally doing summaries or watching netflix between lectures. And when i got home, I had dinner and would go to bed. That was my routine and it was never truly surrounded by food constantly available at my every beck and call.

During quarantine, I was filled with procrastination and demotivation to attend lectures online or read my books. And all that extra time was filled with having an efficient workout routine and eating, but then that eating turned to eating quite frequently whether i was watching television, and mainly eating for the sakes of eating and in gross portion sizes because it was now available. Let's talk about how I broke out of that cycle of over eating and bored eating:

1. PLAN YOUR DAY PRODUCTIVELY.

I needed some direction in my life, I forced myself to plan every hour of my day so I can do something productive for myself. I planned the times from when I would wake up at 8am, to the time it took to fix my bed, brush my teeth, workout, stretch, eat my meals, nap, spend time outside, spend time on social media and more. Not only did my eating habits straighten out, but I got more done with my day.

2. SET EATING TIMES.

Setting eating times was the best thing I had ever done. Breakfast was always at 12 midday, lunch at 2 pm and dinner at 6pm, but these were my eating times, especially since i was intermittent fasting. These times helped me plan my day accordingly, between eating times I would usually fill my day with studying, and doing summaries, catching up with work I had missed. This helps especially if you have a restrictive diet or fast a lot! Restricting calories and fasting for extended periods of time only adds to the urge of falling into a binge cycle because your body feels the needs to refeed!

3. LISTEN TO YOUR CRAVINGS.

Listening to your body is so important. If you want to eat pizza for lunch, don't eat a salad, eat the pizza because it will be mor satiating than that salad or pasta that you might not want as much. Because that pizza might just pop into your mind late at night and you will have a little late night feast, this applies especially if you are counting calories. Having cravings are normal, and unless you are on a no bs diet that is extreme, you shouldn't deny yourself of something that you really want for something that won't leave your soul satiated.

4. DRINK WATER DURING MEALS.

I won't say much on this, but having water before, during and after your meal is so important. It aids in better digestion and adds to the feeling of being satiated when you are done eating, plus it's an easy way to get your water in. Replace that coca cola or soft drink with water, especially if you know you don't get enough glasses of water into your day.

5. LEMON WATER.

A cup of warm water and a wedge of lemon juice squeezed into it is super refreshing, sip on it throughout the morning before breakfast, to aid in digestion. Lemon water is a thing that is constantly brought up, and shut down for being "ineffective" but it works for me, and I believe that it is a phenomena of the mind. If you believe lemon water can help, it will definitely help you because you have manifested its impact on your health. Lemon water and warm water is one of those things that 'curb' hunger, and if you are one of those people who sometime wake up hungry but can't bring yourself to eat so early because it could make you nauseous, then water lemon water in a glass is the drink for you.

6. EAT WHOLESOME AND NOURISHING FOODS.

Calories are a touchy subject, and they add up very quickly very surprisingly. A bowl of oatmeal will have a lot of volume, leave you satiated and keep you full longer than toast and nutella. No one is saying do not eat the nutella, but adapt it into a meal that will leave you full and satisfied for example, if you want something sweet, heave oatmeal with a tablespoon of peanut butter or nutella inside of your oatmeal! Eat foods that will nourish you and give you enough energy to go about your day.

7. PORTION CONTROL AND PHYSICAL FULLNESS.

Portion sizes are all up to you as an individual and how satiated a portion size leaves you. Eat portion sizes that leave you satiated, but remember that being satiated does not equal to being so physically full that you feel uncomfortable as a result of eating too much. Being satiated is very difficult because sometimes you eat food that tastes amazing, and even though you are physically full, you feel like you could eat more and that becomes problematic because you've eaten past your bodies physical limit. Eating what you are craving ( number 3 ) comes into play with this aspect, as you have to be able to know when enough is enough. If you feel as if your portion sizes are huge and want to reduce them, then reduce it gradually whether it means you want to go from eating 4 slices of pizza to 2 slices of pizza, then begin with eating 3 and a half slices or eating one less scoop of pasta than you usually eat. If you have no idea how to stop eating past your physical limit, eat until you feel like you're just about to be physically full, do this for a week, and see how you will become satiated with the portions you are eating, gradually lessen the portion sizes overtime until you are happy with the amounts you are eating! This won't happen immediately, it is a gradual process.

8. DON'T EAT TOO FAST. CHEW YOUR FOOD.

A lot of the time, we do not realise how fast we eat and how we don't thoroughly chew our food. The food isn't running away, take your time to enjoy your meal and chew it instead of swallowing after a few times of grinding your teeth. Take in the flavour of your food and really enjoy it in the moment.

9. IT IS OKAY TO FALL INTO OLD HABITS, BUT BREAK IT AS SOON AS YOU CAN.

Nothing in life happens in a linear manner, everything is gradual and has its ups, its downs, its regressions and just general moments we are not proud of. If you find yourself in a binge cycle or overeating cycle for a day or a week, it does not meal all progress is lost. It means you are human, you are not engineered to be perfect constantly. Have a mantra for yourself that you repeat to comfort yourself: “it is okay, tomorrow will be better.” or “it was just one day, i can go back to normally eating tomorrow.” or “I shouldn’t be too hard on myself, it happens to everyone.”

10. INCORPORATE HEALTHY FOOD GROUPS INTO YOUR MEALS.

Make your meals satisfying and as colourful as possible! Don’t just eat pasta or pizza, eat it with something healthy like a side salad or a side of fruits or a side of healthy carbs like roasted potatoes! Never just eat one thing especially if it doesn’t have any greens or vegetables!! It doesn’t have to even be a salad or anything fancy! It can be cut up tomatoes, or cucumbers or apples!

11. HEALTHIER ALTERNATIVES MEAN YOU CAN EAT MORE FOR LESS.

Your oven, grill or airfryer is your bestfriend. Fried food is delicious, but you feel insecure at times after eating something that was cooked in heaping amounts of oil. Remember an airfryer is just a small oven, and can do wonders too. If you want a burger and you have time, home made burgers are always amazing and tastier than their fast food counterparts! Make your burger at home so you can control what goes into it, or make your fries in the oven so you can have a much more healthy alternative for less calories, and have more of it! I’m not saying make your burger buns something like lettuce buns, but making your burger at home can significantly reduce the calories in comparison to ONE mcdonalds burger, and you can have two for less calories than once burger if you make it at home.

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Hopefully these tips can assist you day to day, and you take them into consideration and even test it out! These tips worked for me, and I know they won’t work for everyone but some of them might be helpful to you!

[hailing-stars]

@febuwhump day 21: torture

a phone call away 

summary

“Tony,” he said. He opened both eyes just as Tony put the Gatorade and the pills on the bedside table. “What happened?”

“Don’t remember?” asked Tony, with a smirk that told Peter doom was imminent.

Peter stared at the Gatorade bottle, then looked down at the bright red cast on his arm. He wondered how he was expected to open bottles using only one hand. “This really sucks.”

“Yep,” said Tony. “Sounds about right. That’s what happens when you drink half your weight in alcohol.”

OR

Peter copes with his post-snap trauma by drinking. Tony worries, and helps. 

Peter opened his eyes, only to quickly shut them after being assaulted by the lights.

His headache blared to life, and his right arm was encased in a cast. He couldn’t remember what he’d done to earn this trouble. What he’d done to merit this rude awakening in Avengers Tower medbay, but he had a sinking suspicion it had all started with Flash and Abe bringing out the keg.

He groaned and pushed his head into the pillow and wished he was literally anywhere else.

“He’s alive.”

Peter popped one eye open and saw Tony by the doorway with Gatorade and a bottle of pain relievers in his hands.

“Tony,” he said. He opened both eyes just as Tony put the Gatorade and the pills on the bedside table. “What happened?”

“Don’t remember?” asked Tony, with a smirk that told Peter doom was imminent.

Peter stared at the Gatorade bottle, then looked down at the bright red cast on his arm. He wondered how he was expected to open bottles using only one hand. “This really sucks.”

“Yep,” said Tony. “Sounds about right. That’s what happens when you drink half your weight in alcohol.”

A memory hit him. One of the white hot pain in his arm, and one of having his head in the toilet, puking, while Tony hovered somewhere above him telling him to get it all out.

Peter groaned again. Maybe it was better not to remember.

“From the baby-monitor cam-”

“-really wish you’d stop calling it that-”

“-it looks like you were swinging under the influence,” said Tony, ignoring his complaint about the name, “and at some point you swung into a building, fell, hit the sidewalk and landed on your arm, all before trying to fight a trash can.”

“Did I at least win the fight?” asked Peter, miserably.

“You tell me.”

It was obvious, even to Peter, that he’d lost.

Peter vaguely remembered a swirl of streetlights, the impact of a brick wall, and flailing his legs and arms as he fell. It was clear from his harsh landing on the pavement that in his drunken state he hadn’t been quick enough to save himself from the fall with his web shooters.

“And if you’re a little foggy on the first part of your evening,” said Tony. “You might wanna turn your attention to Thomson’s Instagram.”

Peter closed his eyes, and muttered, “He didn’t.”

“Oh, he did,” said Tony.

“I’m gonna kill Flash.”

“If May doesn’t kill you first,” said Tony. “Or me, for that matter. What were you thinking?”

“I dunno. Maybe I wasn’t. It was just, a party, you know? It was fun. Was being the keyword I think,” said Peter. He lifted up his broken arm. “This definitely isn’t fun. How long do I have to have this on?”

“Forever.”

“Funny,” said Peter. He sighed. “So much for super healing.”

“Yeah, well, all that alcohol probably put a damper on your freaky spidey healing, so you’re just gonna have to heal like us normal folks, at least for a couple of days,” said Tony. “Which is just as well considering your aunt is probably gonna ground you.”

Peter groaned, threw his head back into his pillows, and stared at the unattainable, frosty Gatorade bottle. He tried to ignore his pounding headache, the way his eyes hurt and begged for the lights to be dimmed.

This hangover was torture. Though he probably deserved it.

“Do you mind, uh, opening that?” asked Peter, pointing at the Gatorade with his free hand.

Tony took the bottle from the nightstand, opened it, and handed it to Peter, who accepted it with his good hand and gulped down half the Gatorade in one drink. He left it open when he put it back down on the nightstand.

“Are you sure this was really just about a party?” started Tony. “That you really just having fun, because I -”

“-Tonnnyyyyy,” said Peter. The headache was torturous enough. He didn’t need a lecture to come with it.

“Kid, I’m just saying,” said Tony. “Take it from someone who was lucky Instagram didn’t exist during his party years.”

“I’m not you.”

“I know you aren’t,” said Tony. “But it can happen to the best of us, and Pete, this is the third time in a month you’ve been caught with alcohol. I’m supposed to believe there were times you weren’t caught?”

“You’re not supposed to believe anything,” said Peter. He closed his eyes, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Can you dim the lights, please?”

Tony did what Peter asked, and dimed the lights. He sat back down in the bedside chair with a sigh. “I’m just worried about you. This isn’t like you at all -”

“-Can I please just rest?”

“Fine,” said Tony. “Fine. But we’re gonna have to talk about this sooner or later, and you know, I’m always a phone call away.”

Peter didn’t open his eyes again until he heard the doors just, until Tony was gone, and he was no longer at risk of having to talk about things.

*

Peter was supposed to be grounded.

May had reacted exactly the way Tony had told him she would, and sentenced him to two weeks in his apartment with only schoolwork and chores to keep him company. Chores that he couldn’t even properly do with one arm.

That hadn’t been such a big deal after a couple of days, which was the amount of time it had taken Peter’s arm to heal and for his cast to get taken off.

And when his arm became free, breaking grounding became easier, so he did, to escape his quiet apartment and his loud and menacing and threatening thoughts.

He crashed a party.

Someone at Midtown hosted it. He didn’t know who, really, and didn’t care to ask. He noticed none of his circle were around. Not even Flash, who usually got invited to every party and rarely turned down an invitation. He didn’t like it. The way parties and large rooms felt lonely and desert when they were absent of his friends.

Peter stayed only long enough to get a buzz going. It wasn’t the good kind, either. His thoughts stayed loud, only they were also swimming, and he’s sloppy as he stumbles around on the dark, New York street.

It occurred to him that was lost, and he was hit with that familiar dread that had occupied him while he was in space. That he may never get home. That he might disappear into the wind before he’s got the chance.

He shook and his breath came fast. He sweated, and wanted to cry, and wanted to be back in his bed or just stay in his apartment, watching TV with May.

“You know, I’m always a phone call away.”

The memory of Tony’s words broke him out of his panic, and slipped his hand into his pocket and fumbled around with his phone until he managed to press on Tony’s contact.

“Peter? What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry, Tony,” said Peter. He didn’t like the sound of his own voice. How desperate it sounded.

“It’s okay,” said Tony. “Where are you?”

“Lost.”

“Sit tight, alright? I’m gonna find you.”

They hung up, and Peter sat on a bench under a streetlight. He waited.

*

Peter didn’t throw up, but he wished he could.

He woke up the next day at Tony’s penthouse. He was nauseous, and shivered, even from under a pile of blankets, and he wished desperately that he could forget the night before. That wasn’t possible. His memories might have gaps in them, but he’ll never forget the paralyzing fear of being moments away from vanishing.

Tony must have been alerted that he’d woken up, because he pushed open the door to the guest room almost immediately.

“How’re you feeling?”

Peter sat up, slowly, and hugged the blankets closer to his body. “Like shit.”

“Sounds about right,” said Tony. “We still gotta talk about it, though. I let it slide last time, and it was a mistake.”

“My mistake,” said Peter. He shivered. “And don’t worry. I’m never going to drink again. Not after last night.”

Tony let the uncomfortable silence settle over them, and Peter didn’t like it. He had to fill the air with his explanation.

“Maybe I was using alcohol to escape,” he admitted. “You know it’s like sometimes my head is just so loud, and it feels like I’m going to be obliterated at any second, and alcohol numbed that. Made me forget.”

“Until it didn’t?” Tony had phrased it as a question, but Peter had no doubt the man knew where it was going. That maybe he’d been there and experienced it himself.

“Yeah,” said Peter. “Last night it just made anything worse.”

“That happens,” said Tony. “Alcohol magnifies your emotions. Not a great way to deal with your trauma.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me.”

Tony squeezed his shoulder in a sign of support, and there was relief written on his face. As if he’d been worried that entire time, but instead of helicoptering over him, had let him work it out on their own. Maybe they were both growing.

“Now the question is,” said Tony. “How do we prevent it from happening again?”

“I’m never going to-”

“-but you might. Shit happens, and if you don’t figure out a way to deal with these feelings, they’ll eat you alive, or make you turn to some pretty desperate solutions.”

“Talking to you and May helps.”

“Yeah,” said Tony. “But I think you may need to talk to someone else, like a professional.”

“You want me to go to therapy?”

“I think it would help you,” said Tony. “I speak from experience, I go, and it helps me, and if it can help me, it’ll help anyone.” He paused, chewed on his lip. “And hey, you’ll have someone to complain about me to.”

Peter laughed. “I don’t know if any therapist has that much time or patience.”

“Brat.”

“Just being honest,” said Peter.

“I’m gonna make you an appointment,” said Tony, quickly, before Peter could even properly make a decision either way.

“Yeah, okay,” said Peter.

He didn’t know if he would’ve agreed if Tony hadn’t made his choice so easy and clear, and although he was sure therapy would be difficult, he was content, thankful even, that he had people like Tony pointing him in the right direction.

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Always By Your Side

Read here on AO3!

Summary: 

The kid looks horrible, full offense. Tim is wearing one of Dick’s old Hudson University sweatshirts which just about swallows him, hanging a full inch over where his fingertips end. His hair is tied up in the messiest bun Jason has ever seen, and there’s a purple welt on his chin big enough that a helicopter could use it for a landing pad. His lip is swollen, blood still crusted over where Tim’s teeth must have torn it open on impact. Big yikes.

“If you’re here to raid my fridge, then you already know it’s bad pickings. I haven’t been shopping in weeks.”

“That’s not why I’m here, actually.” Not the only reason, at least. Multitasking is key when you’re a semi-contract killer who needs Sundays free for tea time with Alfred.

(Disclaimer: THIS IS THE ONLY BAD PARENT!BRUCE FIC I WILL EVER WRITE OKAY I SWEAR I ALWAYS AVOID THOSE KINDS OF FICS BUT I’M SALTY THAT THEY NEVER ADDRESSED BRUCE PUNCHING TIM IN COMICS SO I HAD TO DO IT MYSELF.)

It doesn’t take long to break into Tim’s apartment. Record time, actually. In less than ten minutes Jason is sliding up the window to Tim’s kitchen and climbing over the sill, easy peasy. He should really talk to the replacement about his lack of security against fellow batkids. “Timbo?” he calls, closing the window and re-locking it. “You here?” He’d better have the right place. It’s so hard keeping track of everyone’s safehouses these days, and Jason is not eager for a repeat of what happened the last time he got it wrong. That old lady looked scared to death when Jason crawled in through the air duct, covered in blood that was only thirty percent his own. (The lady was super understanding when he explained the situation. She even fixed up his stab wound with her sewing kit and made him some freshly squeezed lemonade. Jason drops by every couple of weeks to check in on her and her cats.) But Tim is the priority now. “Come out, come out, you little shit.” Jason crosses the kitchen toward the living room, then stops and backtracks. He opens the fridge for a beer, momentarily forgetting that the kid is a hopeless health nut. Jason resigns himself to a package of deli ham only two days past the expiration date. It smells fine, so it must be safe to eat, right? Of all Tim’s apartments, this one is by and far the nicest, barring the expired deli meats and un-Jason-proof security system. The living room is pristine with white sofas and a glass coffee table, making the whole setup vibe more like a hotel suite than an actual home. Definitely not Jason-proof. He sits right in the middle of the fancy sofa, kicking off his boots. “If you get mud on my carpet, you’re cleaning it up.”

Jason looks up at Tim in the doorway and grins. “Don’t I always?” The kid looks horrible, full offense. Tim is wearing one of Dick’s old Hudson University sweatshirts which just about swallows him, hanging a full inch over where his fingertips end. His hair is tied up in the messiest bun Jason has ever seen, and there’s a purple welt on his chin big enough that a helicopter could use it for a landing pad. His lip is swollen, blood still crusted over where Tim’s teeth must have torn it open on impact. Big yikes. “If you’re here to raid my fridge, then you already know it’s bad pickings. I haven’t been shopping in weeks.” “That’s not why I’m here, actually.” Not the only reason, at least. Multitasking is key when you’re a contract killer who needs Sundays free for tea time with Alfred. “Just leave whatever data you have here and I’ll look it over in the morning.” “Again, not why I’m here.” “Then can you just tell me whatever it is so I can go back to bed?” It’s five in the afternoon. “Well, jeez, kid. You don’t have to rush me out the door.” Tim’s eyes flit to the ground and stay there, giving the impression of a puppy put in his place. “Sorry.” Jason eyes Tim carefully. He takes in the timid stance, the way Tim wrings and twists the sleeve of his sweatshirt until it’s stretched beyond saving. He clearly hasn’t showered or even bothered tending to his face, like keeping the wound fresh is his way of punishing himself. “You doing okay?” “Fine, why?” “Because you look like shit, that’s why.” “It’s been a hectic few days. I’ve been meaning to crash for hours.” “How about that bruise you got there? Looks nasty.” Tim touches the bruise as if he forgot it was there, biting back a wince. “It’s fine. I got it on patrol and haven’t gotten around to icing it yet.” “Must have been a big guy to do that kind of damage.” Tim’s eyes narrow. Jason eats his ham, a picture of innocence. “If you’re trying to get me to circle around and ask you about your problems, then I’m sorry, but I’m really not in the mood to play therapist tonight. You can stay here as long as you want, but I’m going to bed.” He turns and starts toward his bedroom. “You’re really not going to tell me who gave you that bruise?” Tim stops, a shudder running down his spine. He doesn’t turn, not yet. “Did Barbara tell you?” “I can’t believe you didn’t. What, did you think this would all go away if you just kept quiet about it?” “There’s nothing to talk about. Nothing happened.” “My ass nothing happened. Bruce hit you last night. He hit you over nothing.” Tim whirls around, fists clenched. “So? I get hit all the time. Am I supposed to have a breakdown every time someone punches me?” “Getting hit by a criminal and getting hit by your dad are not the same thing, and you know it.” “I’m a big boy, Jason. I can handle it.” Jason leans forward, forgetting all about his rancid ham. “You realize how fucked up this is, right?” “Oh, give me a break—” “Hey. The adult is talking now. Our father nearly shattered your jaw a few hours ago and here you are, hiding from him like it was your fault.” Not that Jason blames him for not wanting to be near the manor after what happened; he wouldn’t either if he were in Tim’s place. Hell, he was in Tim’s place. “You weren’t there, Jay. You have no idea what happened.” “Oh, yeah? Enlighten me, then. What gives that asshole the right to put his hands on you?” “The fact that I shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place! Bruce was dealing with enough as it was without me making it worse.” “Only if you call trying to help someone ‘making things worse.’ From what Babs told me, you didn’t do Jack shit to deserve what he did.” “I don’t care what Barbara told you. I was there, I know what I did wrong, and I’ve accepted that.” “Except you did nothing wrong.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Tim’s voice is raised, his eyes narrowed. “You didn’t see how upset Bruce was. He wasn’t himself. I should have seen that and backed off, but I didn’t. He was hurting and angry, and...I provoked him. It was my own fault.” “Do you have any idea how insane you sound? You tried to help him, and he punched you in the face for it. I know you’ve dealt with this exact situation a million times, you know the protocol.” Tim rolls his eyes. “This is completely different.” “Why? Because you’re not a minor? Because Bruce isn’t your father? Or maybe because you threw the first punch? Oh, wait. None of those are fucking true.” “What do you want from me? Do you want me to start crying, call up child services and tell them that my adoptive father gave me a little bruise because I was being insubordinate while we were all dressed as vigilantes? Will that magically ease your conscience?” “I want you to stop fucking covering for him,” Jason says. “You know that there’s no excuse for a parent hurting their child.” “I’m not a child!” “Sorry to break it to you, pal, but you fucking are! And Bruce? He’s your father. It doesn’t matter if you’re twelve or seventeen or thirty—his job is to be a fucking parent to you. And instead he punched you so hard Babs said you were unconscious for a good thirty seconds.” Tim crosses his arms and leans on the wall. He doesn’t try to come closer or sit on any of the furniture, keeping his distance from Jason. “You’re blowing this way out of proportion. Maybe those rules apply to normal people, but we’re different. Violence and anger, that’s how this family communicates. Hell, Bruce and I spar all the time and you’ve never lectured me about it being abuse until now.” Jason runs a hand over his face, thoroughly done with this shit. “I can’t believe you’re still trying to rationalize this.” “Because it’s a rational thing!” “Is it?” “Yes.” “Would you ever hit him?” “It wouldn’t be the first time.” “No, I’m not talking sparring or some stupid teenage angst-fueled outburst. I’m asking if you, Tim Drake, would ever intentionally hurt Bruce in a way that would do damage. Even if he did something shitty to deserve it. Would you hurt him?” Tim hesitates. He bites his swollen lip. “I might. If I were really angry.” “We both know that’s bullshit. The guy’s got a hundred pounds on you and your hand would probably shatter if you tried to sock him in the face, but you still wouldn’t hurt him.” “So?” “So, he knows you’re a twig and he beat the shit out of you anyway. That’s not fucking okay.” “It wasn’t on purpose,” Tim says, but he’s losing momentum by the second. He looks years too tired for this conversation as it is. “It was...instinct. A spur-of-the-moment reaction. It’s not—I mean, he’s Bruce. He would never hurt us intentionally.” “He already did.” “And I’m perfectly fine. It’s not like he punched Damian or Cass, just me. He knew I could take it, and he was right. I’m fine. This bruise will heal up in a couple days, and then we can all forget it ever happened.” “I won’t.” “Why not? Why are you being so goddamn uptight about this? It has nothing to do with you, anyway.” Jason can feel his eyes smolder Lazarus green as he surges forward and hisses, “It has everything to do with me.” Tim flinches. It’s not major, barely even counts as a real flinch, but it happens. Tim flinches away from Jason, and the anger dissipates as quickly as it came. Jesus, what did Bruce do to this kid? Jason sits back, takes a breath, tries to make his voice gentler. “Bruce hurt me too, okay?” Tim’s expression doesn’t change but for a twinge of his eyebrows. “It was a misunderstanding, but...he hurt me. Badly. I was out of commission for two fucking months. Probably would have died if it hadn’t been for Roy.” That gets a reaction. Tim’s mouth drops open and he flounders for a moment, like he can’t put the two things together. Bruce attacking Jason? No results. Does not compute. “What—why would he do that?” “It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that, as irritating as you are, you don’t deserve to be treated like that.” Like he has any right to be saying this. Tim still has the scar on his neck from when Jason’s brains were made of gruel. “Not by a parent. Not by someone you’re supposed to trust. So this is me looking out for you, alright?” Jason reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulls out a crumpled paper. “I know you’ve got your own setup for when you need time away from the manor, but these are all of my addresses and phone numbers. If something like this happens again, I want you to call me.” Tim takes the paper but protests, “It’s okay, really. I don’t need—” “Yeah, yeah, you don’t need to be coddled. I get it. But keep it anyway. And if you start feeling unsafe at the manor, you call me and I’ll take care of it. I already gave Damian, Cass, and Duke copies too. Just...look out for yourself, alright? All of you. Look out for each other.” Tim folds up the paper and slips it into his back pocket. “What about you?” “The old man and I are…” That’s a whole other can of worms Jason really isn’t in the mood to unpack right now. “It’s still rocky between us. I’m keeping my distance. But for you guys, I don’t care. If one of you needs help, I’ll be there. Got it?” Tim blinks, and lucky for him, Jason is courteous enough not to make fun of the tears he is clearly holding back. “Thanks, Jay.”

[volleyball-dontknowher]

congrats on 1.3k babie!!! you super deserve it!!! your writing is immaculate!!! can i request kenma + asking you out on a date and the actual date? hihi im just so whipped for this man <33 thanks babes!!!

AWWW YOU ARE SO SWEET!!! YOU ARE IMMACULATE!!!!! I went a little crazy with this one and wrote over 1.8k because I just needed this

Kenma + Asking you on a date + the date

He was so nervous, sweaty palms, shaky legs and butterflies flying around so rampant in his stomach that he felt like he might lose his lunch. Kenma had talked to you countless times before, you were friends on your switch’s and played games together all the time, but this, this was different. He couldn’t find it within him to even go up and say hi to you like normal, hell, it took Kuroo pushing him into the classroom as he walked by for him top even muster up the courage to do that. When you saw him you gave him that smile, that damn smile, the one that made his cheeks flush with a soft pink and his ears heat up as his heart began to race. He must have liked you for a long time because for as long as he can remember this was his reaction to seeing you, but he only realized recently and was embarrassed to say the least. He sat in his usual seat next to you, hands shaking and ready for the lecture to begin so he can get today over with, but it wasn’t that easy, you had already asked him questions about his new game and about his morning which he was forced to answer. Worst of all, you told him that you liked his new sweatshirt, and with this he couldn’t help but blush a deep red as he tried to stutter out some form of a thank you, which ended up being more of a little whisper because he didn’t trust his voice. Lucky for him the teacher walked in at that exact moment and he knew that he would have a couple of hours to think about exactly how he was going to do it. Kenma didn’t listen to a word the teacher said the entire class and you were busy taking notes and focusing on every word so you could teach him later. This was typical between you two and it was one of the many ways you found excuses to hangout with each other.

Kenma started off by thinking about asking you out then ended up worrying himself silly about what would happen if you said no, what if you laughed in his face, how could he handle that? What if you really don’t like him and it is all a joke? How can he know? Were the little brushes he thought was flirty just you being you? What if he gets friend zoned and you lose your friendship?

“HELLLO EARTH TO KENMA” you practically shouted as you waved your hand in his face. Shocked, he blinked a couple of times and came back around to see you leaning over his desk and upon further inspection he realized that the classroom was empty, he had really just missed the whole first half of the day. Kenma followed you to the cafeteria where he idly listened to you and Kuroo gossip about something in a magazine that was completely over his head. Sick of being swarmed with these negative thoughts, Kenma pulled out his switch and began playing a mindless game to get him through lunch. The bell rang and you were back to class quicker than had been expected. The afternoon lecture went just the same as the morning one, Kenma didn’t care to listen to the boring discussion on calculus and instead stared ‘out the window’ which really meant that he was looking at you and admiring everything he thought was pretty about you. He loved your hair, your smile, the little wrinkle between your eyebrows that only occurred when you were concentrated, how your laugh lit up the room and how everything you did filled him with more happiness than anything else. Kenma wanted to ask you out and just watching you that afternoon brought him the courage. After class he was again the last one up out of his seat as he collected his things and swung his back over his shoulder, you standing ready right behind him. He took a couple steps towards the door before stopping suddenly and turning to face you.

Not wanting to break his sudden burst of confidence Kenma looked you dead in the eyes, “Y/n, do you want to go on a date with me?” He quickly questioned, his eyes wide. You took a sharp inhale before looking at your feet, this had done it,he just ruined everything. Before you had the chance to answer Kenma had left the classroom and taken off down the hall. You didn’t know what to say or do and honestly you were left in complete shock that he had just said something like that and left. You went immediately to go find him, knowing exactly where he would be. Swinging the club room door open you were panting hard as you scanned the room for any sign of Kenma. Instead you were met with Kuroo’s confused look.

“K-kenma, where’s kenma?” You panted, completely out of breath from the unexpected run.

Kuroo looked around the room as if to signal that he wasn’t there and that you were possibly crazy.

“I need to tell him that I would love to go on a date with him,” you sighed, “he ran off before I got the chance, I was just surprised and it took me a second and now he thinks that I don’t like him and that’s not it Kuroo, I like him a lot and I want to go on a date with him so bad but I just ruined it,” you had no idea why you were telling Kuroo all of this but you had to get it off of your chest as you felt the tears brimming and your heart pounding.

“Y/n,” you heard weakly from behind you. Whipping around you saw Kenma and immediately burst into tears as you ran up to hug him. You wrapped your arms so tight around him that he was convinced that you were going to strangle him, but he said nothing and instead lifted his hands to wrap back around you, patting your back lightly.

“I heard it all,” he murmured into your ear, “let’s go out Friday after school, okay?” He said in an uncharacteristically sweet voice. You couldn’t make yourself say anything in fear of choking up so you just nodded your head and pulled away from the hug, wiping your tears as you looked at him one more time. You gave him another quick hug before letting go and taking a few steps away from the club room, “Friday?” You asked.

“Friday.”

Friday came and you were as nervous as ever, you and Kenma were going to a little arcade cafe (they are super duper cute, they have one in my hometown) as your date. You were so nervous and you wanted to look your best so you rushed home after school and immediately took a shower and changed your outfit so that you could feel your best for your date. You had been on several dates before but this one made you the most nervous because it was with your long time crush, Kenma. You two got along in every way and had the best times together and you didn’t want this to make it awkward and ruin things. Lucky for you, Kenma was just as panicked as you were and spent his time before the date laying on Kuroo’s bed complaining about how he didn’t think he had anything nice enough and that he was going to make an ass of himself. Kuroo followed this with some...unhelpful advice that was really just how he picked up girls for hookups. So needless to say Kenma wasn’t going to follow any of his advice.

Kenma was so excited to go on the date that he showed up almost ten minutes early and was just waiting around to see you there, his heart fluttering. After a couple of minutes a deep panic set in, what if you didn’t show up? How could he ever show his face again, what would happen, and right as he began really panicking you showed up. You were smiling and somehow looked even more adorable than usual, Kenma was completely in awe and didn’t even respond to your “hello,” as you two entered. THe little cafe was absolutely adorable with a lot of little vintage game boxes and game themed little pastries. You played Kenma in several rounds of Pacman before going on to play pinball and Tetris. Most games ended in Kenma winning because he’d played them for hours before but whenever you would win he would always tell you that it was a good game and that he thought that it was broken (always in a joking way of course) and when you were done playing games (which was not for a long time, you both had a great time playing games with and against each other trying to see who could beat the other one and you even got him to do a round or two of Dance Dance revolution which he was absolutely horrible at) you ordered a strawberry shortcake, some chocolate cookies and a chocolate croissant to share as you sat at one of the little booths. You both shared the pastries and ended up talking for over an hour about your favorite games, movies, shows, best ways to spend a weekend, whether big or small dogs were better and if you thought that lasagna was actually as gross as the name sounds. You two made each other laugh more than ever and at one point you placed your hand down on the table and Kenma took the opportunity and held your hand from across the booth. It was super sweet and you both couldn’t help the pink flush that covered both of your faces. After your ‘official’ date the two of you went back to your house and played games and studied together for another several hours before he said goodbye and went back to his house. The whole day was absolutely adorable and talking with Kenma always felt like talking with someone you’d known your entire life and it was the best feeling in the world. Your relationship was so perfect, he was there when you needed him and you were always there when he needed you and you were both so sickeningly sweet. Lucky for you Kenma could never say no so if you wanted cheesy couples pics or to go shopping together all you had to do was ask and he was completely on board.