#when will boy related troubles end. WHEN WILL THEY END

[little-wawita]

Im back <3. First of all

and

And the tags in cuestion of course

Now.

VLAD YOU´RE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE. Guy thinks that just because he (nearly) flawlessly hid his lab he wouldn't be discovered? Tell me you've never met a bat without telling me you've never met a bat. Keeping all his incriminating stuff togheter is probably the dumbest thing he's done but Vlad isn't known for being as smart as he thinks.

Also the image of his sorry ass waking up in the middle of the night hearing the-baby-that-refuses-to-be-his-baby chirping for family? baby want family?? but not you, asshole, he's playing with your feelings, go back to sleep (his ass is not sleeping, don't believe what he says, he's a liar who lies) ((he's also screaming his lungs out to the next underling he finds)).

Orphan apearing out of nowhere to help, girl how did you learn that? what do you mean with you worked in construction?? where??? Ask all you want, she's not answering, wait where did she go? whatever, you heard her boys, keep working!

Now, the kids going to the police instead of home? Awesome, everything according to plan :]. Oh, a social worker? Ok, this seems a little bit excesive but they haven't been around for many police related issues so maybe that's how they handle minors? Oh. Their parents are under investigation? The GIW are actually a bunch of humans sopremacist and aren't legal?. Ok, it's fine, they can take it.

(it's not fine, but they can take it regardless)

At least the social worker is nice.

But learning that their aunt won't take the, specially the reason why? DEVASTATING. It felt like that anyways.

I also had to google about the axolotl thing, it shouldn't have been so funny.

Also, Jazz is baby. Please let her act like the baby she is, even if we know she won't. :'((((

THE WHOLE THING JUST TO MAKE JASON RELATED TO THEM. These bitches (bats) aren't just pulling some strings and faking papers, oh no, they are completely puppetering the whole situation so the kids would end up with Jason in Gotham. He IS getting his son, thank you very much. And his son's sister. (he aint calling her daughter unless she allows him to) ((Danny is not getting the same privilege.))

NOW ABOUT THE TAGS

There are going to be so many misunderstandings when they realize WHO, specificaly, Vlad was trying to clone. And his reasons. The little badger thing is also not helping, sorry Vlad. It's also gonna generate so many awkward questions and even MORE awkward-er conversations, sorry Danny.

Jack having five siblings is literally the least surprising thing about this post. He is also the middle child but the physically bigger of all of his siblings, you CANNOT tell me he's not used to having little gremlings and bigger gramlings using him as a literal climbing post. That's why he's so strong, all of his siblings were always on top of him when they were togheter before he was disowned. Too bad there's no one to climb him now.

Anyways. Thank you so much for feeding us with this lovely addition Op, kudos, all the kudos for you <3<3. Also don't stress yourself if you dont have (or dont want) more things to add to this au AND if you do dont pressure yourself to write it quickly or whatever, we love you anyways <3.

Ghost Chirps AU Part 4

A little treat in these trying times

Part 1 & 2

Part 3

***

The first time Daniel chirps (to Vlad’s knowledge, but it’s actually the fifth, he was just out of range in the GZ all the previous time) Vlad responds immediately. 

The boy attacks him just as viciously as ever, and Vlad assumes from then on that the boy is merely taunting him, crying out for family only to go “no, not you.”

Vlad ignores it from then on. It isn’t particularly frequent anyway.

When he hears him chirping back and forth with some other ghost somewhere on the East Coast he feels his eye twitch. 

He dismisses it, however. No doubt it is one of Daniel���s little ghost allies helping him try to antagonize Vlad into showing up just to be rejected again.

Well, Vlad won’t fall for Daniel’s petty tricks. He would be Vlad’s son in time one way or another, no need to indulge the boy’s temporary sense of superiority.

It is grating when it wakes him up in the middle of the night, but he goes back to sleep quickly after.

Midday, he thinks he might have to track down Danny’s little friend for a nice long chat about Not Doing That. But that’s an issue for later.

Before “later” can arrive, Vlad finds himself taken into “temporary custody” while the police search his house.

He goes peacefully, assured that they’ll find nothing amiss, all of his ecto materials tucked neatly away in a lab that is inaccessible any way other than phasing. And wrapped in lead just in case.

He does not notice that a member of the Justice League is involved, nor would he care, certain that none could find his lab. And utterly unaware of the JLD’s existence.

Not that the JLD is needed in this case.

Despite his best efforts to change every copy of the construction crews’ blueprints both digital and physical in order to eliminate knowledge of the inaccessible room, there’s no accounting for memory.

Officer Roger worked in construction before joining the force, and it was only less than a half a year ago that Masters’ Amity home was constructed. Officer Roger still remembers the doorless, windowless box they built alongside the small mansion itself. It’s nowhere to be found on the property, so he brings it up with his superior.

Orphan questions it - nearly giving the whole team heart-attacks in the process - but a simple “I used to work in construction” seems to be enough to satisfy her curiosity.

A two hour sweep with some metal detectors finds nothing.

Then Orphan reappears from the shadows, providing another jumpscare, before pressing a hand silently to the side of her head.

The crew watches in silence as well, giving their pulses a chance to slow.

A ten-count later Orphan’s hand drops, and she strides confidently to the rear-left corner of the mansion and points at the ground.

“200 feet beneath the foundation,” she says before disappearing back into the shadows.

The crew shares a look and gets to work.

The time it takes to dig up the cube is just more time spent in a cell for Vlad, where he waits patiently, assured he’ll be released soon enough.

The lab itself would be only a minor problem - there would be fines and inspections and a heavy watch until everything was brought up to code. Questions about how he accessed it would be a larger problem.

But worst of all, in the comfort of his lab? He’s not much for hiding away incriminating documents. 

Of which there are many, given his propensity for keeping extensive records of his experiments, which include unethical cloning and what sums up to human experimentation. 

Once they find the actual facilities for the experiments in his Wisconsin home? It will all be over for him.

Being a ghost he could, of course, simply flee the cell and start anew somewhere else, with a new identity or even in a new dimension altogether - so long as he could nab Maddie and her children to bring with him.

But within his labs, he also keeps extensive records of himself.

A copy of the Plasmius Maximus.

Other ghost- and halfa-capturing restraints.

When he hears steps approaching his cell 2 days into his stay when it is clearly not a mealtime, he thinks “finally” assured that he is about to be released.

He only registers that it is Batman after he’s been hit by the Plasmius Maximus - cut off from his powers for at least the next two hours.

He has no chance to complain, as he is subsequently tranqued unconscious to be taken to a more secure location.

***

It’s an hour and half after school let out when the cops - who had taken to trying to distract Jazz and Danny with cards games and work stories while they waited - step away to answer their radios. 

When they return, they tell them that it’s “time to go.”

The siblings share a look, then shrug.

It wouldn’t be the first time the cops had to drive them home - rare though it was, there were at least 4 such occasions in their memories. It wasn’t a big deal.

They were less than enthused when the cops explained that they’d be heading to take them to the station instead of to home. Still, they chalked it up to the whole “questions about the Red Hood” thing and moved on. 

At least it meant they could dodge a home visit like Danny had wanted.

Except when they get there, they are taken to a cushy room and introduced to their social worker, a woman with a kind smile and a soothing voice who introduces herself as Bethany Scott, sits them down and explains, very gently, that their parents are currently under investigation.

To her credit, she isn’t condescending. She doesn’t try to hide away the truth; when they ask why, she tells them.

It’s a surprisingly long list of charges. Of everything on it, the violation of the meta protection acts comes as the biggest surprise.

Their parents were obsessive about ghosts, but they were also good at it. They never attack anything that doesn’t have ectoplasm.

Well, barring a few misfires.

Another surprise comes then: the Anti-Ecto Acts don’t exist. Ghosts are covered by the MPA by design, the AEA would never have gotten off of the ground in any legal capacity. It is solely a creation of the GIW, an extreme “‘real’ humans only” supremacist group that had worked at every level to pull the wool over the eyes of the small town’s citizenry so thoroughly that they’d been thought a real government agency - the imitation of which would be just one of the many charges that every member they managed to capture would be facing.

Then Mrs Scott starts talking about placement options.

Their Aunt, they are told, is not an option. 

It comes as a surprise to Danny. On quiet nights, when no ghosts showed up to interrupt him and Sam and Tucker weren’t up to distract him with a game of Doomed, his mind would sometimes wander back to that darkest of timelines.

He’d wondered how Vlad had ended up with custody. Being his godfather made him an option, but Danny would’ve wanted to go with Alicia. Will be damned, Danny would’ve plead on both knees with the judge to go with his aunt. Grieving or not, he’d have wanted as much distance between him and Vlad as possible,

He’d assumed Vlad must have done something to her or paid off the judge to rule in his favor.

To find out it was because she simply wouldn’t take him?

A part of him understands. He doesn't - Aunt Alicia is a kind person, yes, but not particularly loving or caring. When his parents brought up the subject of children with her on one of their rare visits, she described herself as having “less motherly instinct than a starving axolotl.”

Not an encouraging description after he read a book on axolotls for context. 

With their options being “Aunt in a small wood cabin in the middle of nowhere with the emotional sensitivity of a bull in a china shop” and “Rich friend of the family who would enable them to stay in contact with their friends and could hire them therapists even if he’s personally useless for helping them through the grieving process” she probably also figured marking herself down as a solid non-option would just expedite them getting the help they need (because she does care, even if she herself can’t - won’t - be there for them in that way).

He doesn’t hate her, but the knowledge burns. To know that there really was no avoiding Vlad - in that horrible future and in the now - makes him sick to his stomach.

Except-

Except before he can spiral, Mrs Scott tells them that Vlad is also not an option. Because he’s also under investigation.

A hysterical giggle bursts past his lips before he can think to stop it.

“Why?” he asks, ignoring Jazz’ disapproving grimace.

It’s less funny when they’re told that he’s under investigation under suspicion of mostly the same violations as their parents - including MPA violation, given the whole “million dollar ghost” incident and related propaganda. As the mayor especially, he should’ve known the AEA weren’t real and that the GIW were frauds and it was his responsibility to do something about them.

Depending on how he’d interacted with the group, he might be looking at aiding and abetting treason - or just outright treason - charges.

“If Aunt Alicia and Vlad both aren’t able to take us, then where are we going to go?” Jazz asks, shoving her emotions aside to deal with the matter at hand.

“Ordinarily, we would call up a few local fosters and see if one could take you in for a few days while we look into more long-term options. Worst case scenario you would have to spend a night or two in a hotel suite connected to mine while I found someone,” she answers. “But the two of you are in luck; Batman is the one who brought the case to our attention - apparently some erratic behavior from Red Hood brought them here, don’t ask, I don’t have all the details - and offered to run your parents’ DNA to check for other relatives that could take you. There was a match.”

The siblings share another look.

Both grandparents on their mother’s side had been only children and both were dead. Aunt Alicia had already said no and had no children of her own. Their father had been disowned by his family, and even if their other Aunts and Uncles would have been willing to take them in it didn’t matter, because all 5 had died in various accidents on their “hunts.”

“Apparently your uncle, Jerry Fenton, had a fling before he passed with one Ms Sheila Haywood. Their son, Jason, was thought to be the son of Willis Todd and Mrs Haywood until the DNA test today. He was raised by Willis and Mrs Catherine Todd until his subsequent adoption by Mr Bruce Wayne, and is currently living in Gotham.”

And it sounds wrong - the only thing most Fentons could love was mystery and danger - thus why only one out of six had survived. But they don’t know enough to dispute it.

Also. The involvement of another billionaire is setting off alarm bells. On the one hand: this could be a fruitloop paying someone off in order to forcibly adopt them. On the other hand, maybe Jason Todd really was a Fenton and being adopted by fruitloops was some kind of curse on the current generation.

“We contacted Mr. Todd the moment the connection was made. He has expressed an interest in taking you in, and flew out immediately to come and meet you. He arrived not five minutes ago.”

She paused and gave them a sympathetic look. 

“I understand that this is all a lot to take in. Please know that placing you with Mr. Todd is not the end of my duties; even after he takes you, I will be following you to Gotham. I’ll be looking into counselors for the both of you, and we’ll have a follow up on that topic in a maximum of a week’s time. I’ll also be doing regular home checks to ensure you’re both settling in well and that you’re being taken good care of. 

Even with what little I’ve gleaned, it is obvious that the environment you both grew up in until now was neither a safe nor a healthy one. It is my job to ensure that doesn’t happen again. If you have any concerns about your placement home now or in the future, please do not hesitate to bring them up with me. If you worry something is not “important” enough to mention, rest assured that if it bothers you in the slightest, then it’s important to me.”

She gives them each a long look.

Then she brings in Jason.

[written-in-flowers]

Lovesick: Chan x Male!Reader Pt. 4

Pairing: Bang Chan x Male!Reader | Side pairings: Minho x Chan, Minho x Male!Reader (unrequited)

Word Count: 7k

Genre: Horror, Angst, Smut | AU: Yandere!au, Videogame!AU, Highschool!AU

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Summary: After being sucked into the dating simulator "Lovesick", Park YN has to defeat five rivals to reach his goal. However, he soon learns his rivals aren't the only thing he must contend with for Chan's love.

Tags: Graphic depictions of violence, Main Character Death, dark fic, dead dove: do not eat, yandere behaviors, yandere!reader, stalking, murder/violence, blood and violence, toxic relationships, mentions of murder, unrequited love, mentions of domestic violence, school massacre/genocide, implied teacher/student relationship, homophobic parents, mentions of bullying/trauma, obsession, possessiveness, manipulation, high school setting, anal sex, anal fingering, edging, eventual smut, pool sex, locker room sex, blowjobs, choking.

A/N: PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE READING! I'm not responsible for any feelings you end up having because you ignored this warning and the ones above.

Han Jisung: Tuesday < | > Seo Changbin: Monday

****

You arrived at school before either Jisung or Chan reached their lockers. Despite your growing desire to stalk Chan, you followed Jisung instead. You noticed the gift box he carried throughout the school, and wondered what was actually inside. No doubt it will be a new manga or an anime-related item. You briefly thought of what gift you'd give Chan, but instantly shut it down. That’s not who you are. Chan is a game character; you can’t take him home when you win the game. 

‘Ah, but how nice it’d be to keep him.’

You pushed that out of your head and kept walking. You followed Jisung up the stairs to the second floor, and waited for him to enter his classroom. As you stood by the drinking fountain watching the door, someone came up behind you. 

“Ah, Minho-hyung!” you jumped back into the wall, seeing the older boy standing there with a small grin. “You scared me!”

“I’m sorry, YN-ssi,” he frowned, “I didn’t mean to. You seemed deep in thought and I didn’t want to bother you. You’re on the sophomore floor again.”

You’d throttle him if you could. Lee Minho was becoming a pest that you couldn’t flick off. “Um, yeah, I stopped for some water,” you gestured to the fountain. “I was heading up to the library to study some before class.” 

“Wow, such a diligent student,” he grinned. “Most kids go back outside or mess around in the classroom.” 

“I guess so��yeah.”

Minho gazed around the hallway then shortened the space between you. In a whisper, he said, “Look, YN, I’m not going to turn you in or anything, but I wanted to warn you: getting involved with Hwang Hyunjin is a bad idea.”

You froze and examined Minho’s face. He saw the seriousness in the narrow, dark brown eyes, mixing with a tinge of concern. “I don’t know what you mean,” you replied innocently. 

“I was throwing away some trash from the student council room when I saw you talking to Hyunjin in the art room,” he began. “I saw you…purchasing…some stuff from him, and I wanted to warn you that you shouldn’t do it again. What if a teacher caught you with that stuff? You could get in serious trouble and get kicked out of school.”

“What I do in my free time isn’t your business, Minho-hyung.”

“I know it’s not, but I…I don’t want you to get kicked out over something stupid.”

“Why would you care if they kicked me out?”

“Because…” Minho hesitated, swallowing a lump in his throat. You saw him give your face a once over before saying, “Because, the school is known for having high academic achievements. A lot of the students here come from prominent families who want their children to receive the best education. I think having someone like you here makes this place look better. You have really high marks, good examination scores, and you’re part of the school’s swim team. I’d hate to see all that potential go to waste because you decided to start interacting with somebody like him.” 

“I appreciate your concern,” you said, “But, I have my reasons for meeting Hyunjin. We’re not friends or anything. I just needed some stuff from him.” 

“I see…” he nodded. “Still, Hyunjin runs with a bad crowd, and it’d be a shame if you got mixed up in it.” He changed topics and said, “I was actually heading to the library too. The student council is starting a campaign for school safety. The council and I feel it's important we make people aware of safety tips they can use when they’re alone. I was going to start designing the pamphlets to hand out. Maybe you can help me with them; I hear you’re very creative.” 

How could he have heard that? You haven't talked to anyone besides Chan. “No thanks, Hyung. That sounds admirable and everything, but I gotta go do something before the library and I might miss it if I keep dawdling. I’ll see you around.”

 “But, YN-”

You slipped away before he could say anything else. Who did Minho think he was butting into your business like that? He had some nerve thinking you should take his advice. You managed to make it to Jisung’s classroom, and your heart dropped. Jisung’s bag was hanging from his desk hook, but the gift box he’d brought with him was gone. You frantically gazed around the room to see if Jisung left it somewhere else, but it was pointless. Quickly, you went back down the corridor to the staircase. If you were lucky, you might catch Jisung before he gave the gift to Chan. They’d most likely meet in the school garden. You felt your phone buzzing, and you hastily pulled it out.

“Lee Minho seems to really like you.” 

“Whatever. I don’t care about him.” 

“You should reconsider Chan, to be honest.” 

“What?! No way! Then I’d be stuck here!”

“But, isn’t Minho the more obvious choice here? He’s handsome, intelligent, successful, ambitious, and strong. People really look up to him, and being seen with him would raise your reputation A LOT.” 

“My reputation is fine, thanks.”

“His family is extremely rich too. His mother is a politician. His dad owns the largest chain of department stores in the world. He could make you happy, give you the world on a platter. You would want nothing with him on your arm.” 

You stared at the screen. “I don’t want Minho. I want Chan.”

“Okay, yeah, but does Chan want you?” 

“He does! That’s what I rebuilt this whole game for! I rebuilt it so that I could get closer to him and make him love me!” 

The confusion fueled your desperation. Without saying anything else, you put the phone back in your pocket and continued onwards. The phone continued vibrating against your leg. Bott’s dumb advice could wait. You walked through the school until you reached the outside, which was still packed with students heading to their destinations. You’d reached the school garden entrance when you gasped. 

“Here, Chan,” Jisung and Chan stood by the shed again. He held out the white and red gift box, and said, “I got you something. I felt awful about yesterday and the day before, and I hope this makes it up to you somehow.” 

“Jisung-ah,” Chan smiled fondly, “You didn’t have to get me a gift.”

“I wanted to,” he said, a light blush on his cheeks. “You’re…you’re very special to me. I look up to you a lot, and I’d hate it if you thought less of me.”

You prayed that Chan wouldn’t open the gift. You prayed that somehow, someway, he’d save it for later and give you time to replace it with your own. Unfortunately, the cards weren’t in your favor. Chan untied the bow and opened the box. He pulled out a new copy of Eternal Light, which made Chan’s face light up. 

“Wow! Jisung!” Chan nearly laughed, “This is the newest one! How’d you get it? It isn’t supposed to be out yet here for a few months.”

“My dad had sent it to me,” he smiled. “He’s in Osaka right now, and he saw it in one of the anime shops. He thought I’d like to have it. I read it all in one night, and I thought you’d like to keep this one. It's a special edition too! The creator signed the inside!” 

“Jisung-ah, I couldn’t keep this. It’s yours.”

“No, no, it’s okay!” Jisung insisted. “I preordered mine ages ago, so I’ll have my own. I wanted you to have this one.”

“This is…this is really wonderful, Jisung. I really love it. Thank you.”

You bit down on his lip so hard, you nearly drew blood. Everything you’d done yesterday had been for nothing. You wanted to kick something. You wanted to scream. You’d failed to stop one of the interactions. Your odds of ruining their friendship dropped a few points. Rage burned through every vein in your body, scorching the delight to make way for the anger, and the world turned gray and red again. 

“Doesn't killing him sound better now?” Bott’s newest message came. “You lost a chance at sabotage. It'll be hard to make up for that now. Like I said, the second floor is usually empty after school. There's a supply closet with some things you could use. Ooh! There's this cool knife in the Occult club you can use or this big wand thing in Drama. They make great weapons.”

“I'm going to have to do something else. Murder would be too suspicious right now.”

“Where's the fun in that? That's one of the best parts!”

“Maybe I can gossip about Jisung? You know, lower his reputation so he leaves school. If I start now, then it should work by the end of the week.”

“Or you can just KILL THE FUCKER!”

Your heart started pounding in your ears, making it hard to keep your breath steady. You stayed by the entrance as both Jisung and Chan left together, trying to control the anger burning inside you. You observed Chan’s form as he walked away. You wanted him so badly. You wanted every part of him. Nobody would love him the way you would; nobody cared about him like you did. Had you not proved that much with all the trouble you went through for him? 

“Killing these rivals literally makes your life so much easier. It's fun. Not all this sneaking around stuff.”

Wait, no. You are doing this to get home. You had no interest in really staying with Chan. But, you’d bring him along home if you could. Then, you could have him all to yourself. 

“Take advantage of your rage mode, and find Jisung! A little bit of murder doesn't hurt anyone.”

Needing to control your “rage mode”, you stormed up to the boy’s bathroom where solitude lived in the tiled room. Hints of cleaning chemicals and fluids reached your nose as you bent over the sink. You tried splashing water on your face to remove the vision, but it didn’t seem to work. It only grew darker thinking of Chan in Jisung’s arms. You pictured a successful confession that led to the pair becoming a couple, and you receiving a ‘game over’. Then, you’d die. You thought of Chan being kissed and touched by Jisung; them going on dates, going on trips and enjoying life together. That should be you. That was going to be you. You slammed your hands on the sides of the sink as you thought of the couple somewhere else right now. What if all his new coding caused Jisung to reveal his feelings earlier? They could all think for themselves now after all. It was possible. 

You screamed through gritted teeth and smacked the hard porcelain again. You couldn’t let that happen. You just couldn’t. You cursed yourself for having messed with the game’s design in the first place. Pride and ambition put you on this path, and now you have to redo everything over again. You took out your phone. 

“Hello?” 

You gasped at the high voice of Han Jisung from the bathroom’s entrance. You spun around to see him walk in with concern on his face. “Are you okay?” he asked, seeing your wet, red face. “You look sick. You should go see the nurse.”

“And you should stop seeing Chan!” you retorted. 

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I see how you look at him! I see the way you’re always going after him! Leave him alone, he’s not yours!”

“Look, I don't know what's going on with you, but you should probably go to the infirmary and lie down. It’s not good to let stress get to your head like that.”

“You better not confess your feelings before Friday,” you said through gritted teeth, death in your gaze. “Or I’ll kill you. I swear to god! I’ll fucking kill you!”

“You shouldn’t say things like that to people,” Jisung frowned. “That’s a serious threat to make. I could report you for that, but…I can see you’re very upset right now, so I’m not going to take it seriously.” He moved carefully towards you, “Now, as for Chan, he’s my friend. Yeah, I have a crush on him and I want to tell him how I feel, but you’re nobody to be telling me what I can and can’t do. I like him, and I’m going to tell him.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.” 

Too deep in your anger, you had not noticed the change in personality. Jisung was normally soft-spoken and shy. But, here he was standing his ground and almost provoking you. It was a trick. It was a damned dirty trick. 

“Chan probably doesn’t even like you,” Jisung spat, “You’re the weird new kid who follows him around. You think I don’t see you constantly stalking him whenever he leaves the garden? Or how you leer at him during lunch times? I know it was you who stole the book from my bag. I know it was you who poisoned his lunch. I’m not gonna let you keep sabotaging my friendship with Chan because you’re a creepy little shit.”

“I’m not creepy…and Chan does like me! He will like me!” the words ripped through your throat and out of your mouth like venom. You grabbed the sink with trembling hands, trying to steady yourself.

“Psh, as if. Why would he want you when he could have someone who actually cares about him?”

“Because he won’t have a fucking choice!” 

In a howl of fury, you launched forward and tackled Jisung to the ground. Straddling the skinny boy, you grabbed both sides of his head and slammed  it into the hard floor. Too dazed from the first hit, Jisung didn’t have time to try pushing you off or fighting back. Your screams filled the small room. You could feel the tips of your fingers hitting the floor at the same time as Jisung’s head, blood starting to soak through the dark curls and onto the skin. You finally stopped when you heard the final crack, and saw Jisung’s head split like an egg. Blood poured out onto the floor, and pink brain matter showed beneath the split bone. You heard nothing except the loud pumping of your heart. You stayed kneeling on top of Jisung as you took in the boy’s lifeless expression. Pure wrath powered through you, your fists curling as they shook. You couldn’t stop it. Simply seeing his pretty face underneath you, bloody and lifeless, only made you angrier. 

Maybe killing was the fastest way to get home. 

“YN?” 

Through the pulsating grayness, you saw Minho standing at the door. You should scramble from the body. You should come up with a lie that Jisung attacked you; that this was self-defense and you weren’t at fault. However, all Minho did was calmly lock the bathroom door. 

“I guess that’s a wrap for Han Jisung,” he sighed, hands in his pockets. “This won’t be hard to clean up.” 

“Wha-what?”

“Jisung is the sabotage route,” he said, “But I told you murder is a better option.” 

“But-B-But…”

“Don’t worry about the students,” he dismissed, “I sped up time so everyone is in class right now. I normally stick to the phone, but when you freaking ditched me, I might have amped him up a bit. I knew you might crack but, shit, dude…You did a number on him,” he said with a soft laugh. 

His voice wasn’t scolding or angry. It was soft. Soothing. 

“I’ll admit though,” he continued, not concerned by your shocked expression, “Watching you sneak around school and come up with ways to sabotage your rival was getting intriguing. But, when you spurned me today…I guess I got carried away with the coding.” He looked down at Jisung with you, “You know, I never get tired of seeing them killed? I know that sounds weird, but you’d be surprised at the creative ways people think of murdering their rivals. One guy tried setting him on fire once,” he snorted a laugh. “Another player beheaded him. I made so many interesting, unique ways of getting through the levels, and you chose the sabotage route. I used to call it the pacifist route since it doesn’t involve murdering or kidnapping anyone, but you’ve made it quite interesting. Like, that thing with distracting the nurse! Most people waited until she went into the next room. I really like your thoroughness.” 

“What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

Minho pulled out a smartphone from his pocket, started texting and waited. The pink phone vibrated loudly. You fished quickly to pull it out and read Bott’s next message. 

“Hey, dumbass. Did you really think I wasn’t in the game with you?” 

The older boy laughed at your dumbfounded expression. “You’re…Bott?”

“Yup,” he nodded. “I'm the developer’s self insert character. I am Bott, your know it all guide to Lovesick. I usually just drop suggestions and hints on what to do, but you made me curious. I didn’t think you’d explode like this though,” he chuckled. “Jesus, you obliterated him.” 

“I…I don’t know what’s happened to me,” you admitted, looking at the blood drying on your fingers. “I don’t know what came over me. It’s like all the pent up frustration at this game lashed out.”

“That and not having Chan, right?” 

“I couldn’t stop myself. It’s like my anger has this tight grip on me, and makes me do it. When Jisung started saying that Chan would never love me, I lost it.”

“I don’t blame you,” he said. “It was the same for me when I lost Chan.”

“When you lost Chan?”

“The real Chan,” he elaborated. “In the real world, he’d been a guy that I knew from school. I had a super big crush on him, but was too scared to say anything,” he said. “I thought I could make an exact replica of him. He’d be in my image and he’d love nobody but me. I figured if I couldn’t have Chan in the real world, I could have him in a fantasy one. I created Lovesick as sort of an rpg horror game where you had to kill other people who wanted your crush. Chan was my muse, my inspiration, my whole world. I wanted him so badly. I wanted to kill anyone who got in my way.” 

“Did you?”

“Obviously not.” He then said, “Things only got worse when I finally plucked up the courage to tell Chan about my feelings.”

“What happened?” 

“He rejected me…I told him how I’d felt about him for a long time. I said that I wanted nobody but him. He made me feel alive; he gave me a purpose to keep going in life. I told him he’d be happy with me; that we’d be so happy together…but he said no.” You saw sadness begin to creep over Minho’s face, “He told me a friend of his found out about the game. They said that I’d created a love interest that looked like him, and he said it freaked him out a little. I tried saying it was a coincidence, but he didn’t believe me. He said I had no right to use his likeness in a video game without his consent, as well as using his name. He threatened to sue me if I didn’t take him out of the game.” 

“That must’ve really hurt.”

“It tore me apart. I couldn’t give up the game, which was my only source of true happiness and validation. But, I also wanted to keep Chan in my life. Later, I was served papers to either take down the game or remove Chan from it. Lovesick’s Chan was the only piece of him I had left. It was the only thing that still kept him in my life, even if it wasn’t in reality. I wanted to die. If I couldn’t have Chan or Lovesick, then why should I keep living? So, I took a kitchen knife and killed myself…I don’t know how it happened or who was responsible for it, but my soul somehow latched itself to the game. I woke up the way you did: in the bedroom before school.” 

“You played the game then?”

“And won,” he grinned proudly. “I thought I’d finally get to have Chan, and life would be great, but then the game restarted. I didn’t get to keep Chan. I stayed within the game, though Chan continued to be out of reach. It’s like this place is some hellish time loop. Whoever gets stuck here, stays here until they either win or die.” He sat back on the floor, despite the blood pooling nearby. “I continued playing the game in an endless cycle, killing my opponents in a variety of ways just to have a few seconds of Chan’s love. It became tedious. I got tired of having to do all the hard work whenever I killed or ruined someone. Then, it was like the game itself answered my prayers.

“Some idiot picked up the game after it had been developed and released into the world. I don’t know if he died or was hypnotized or what, but he somehow ended up here like me. He suddenly became the game’s main character, and I was booted into a regular NPC. Well, dude, this is my game. I can’t be a damn side character. I made myself a rival by messing around in the control room like you did. I changed my appearance, gave myself top boss-level status, and lived within this little world I’d made in my basement. I created the persona of Bott, a sassy, know-it-all who guides players through the game, and watches the chaos happen. I knew nobody would ever actually reach Chan, since I always outsmarted or simply killed them before they could get to him. When they lost, they’d get a cut scene of me confessing my feelings and Chan accepting them, followed by him kissing me.” 

He turned his head to you, “It wasn’t until you came that things got interesting. I normally keep my distance from players until they reach my level, but when you redesigned the game to work in your favor, I couldn’t help myself. I meant it when I said I’ve never had a player like you before. You’re following the rules of the game, but you’re not at the same time. I’ve really enjoyed it so far.” 

“Um…thanks.”

“I also didn’t expect you to actually develop feelings for Channie,” Minho said. “The other players might’ve found him attractive, but they never tried making connections with him before.” 

“I don’t know what I’m feeling exactly,” you admitted, looking at your blood stained hands. “I thought it might be Sunghoon’s coding still in my system, but it doesn’t feel that way anymore. It feels so…real.” 

Minho stared at you for a moment, taking in your expression and he clenched his jaw. “I know what you mean. Things can feel pretty real in a video game world, huh?” He stood up from the ground, and lent you his hand, “Come on. Lunch time is gonna start soon, and you gotta get cleaned up.” 

You felt too exhausted to say anything else. You helped Minho wrap up Jisung’s body, and clean up the bathroom like you’d done the first time. You carried the corpse through the empty hallways and outside to the school garden. You both thought it’d be fitting for Jisung to be buried near his precious strawberries. You watched Minho as the latter dug up the hole with you. 

His story sounded like something out of an anime or a really cheesy drama. The betrayal and heartbreak made sense, but something about the story worried you. Killing himself over a video game was pathetic. You thought back to Jeongin’s warning from before. He told you not to listen to Him, and you suspected he meant Minho. 

“Well,” Minho breathed out, brushing dirt off his hands, “That’s him settled. Changbin’s next.” 

“I know.”

“Got any ideas on what you’re gonna do with him?”

“Not really. I know nothing about him aside from him being athletic, and that’s pushing it,” you said, doing the same and putting the shovel back in the garden shed. 

You’d have to check the student info before proceeding forward. You figured you’d tail Changbin tomorrow to get a feel of his routine and the people in his life. Perhaps then you could come up with something. You still had many things to process before moving on to the next day. 

“Wanna grab lunch together?” Minho asked. Before you could decline, he added, “Being seen with me would boost your reputation immensely.”

You chuckled, “Eh, I think my reputation is good enough, thanks.” You really wanted to see Chan. Your body ached to be near him. The morning left you feeling drained, and Chan always brought so much relief. “I gotta get started on getting some skill points.”

Minho saw right through the lie, “You can get those later at after-school activities. I’ve seen your friends list, and it isn’t as long or as balanced as you think.” He took your hand in his own. You noticed how cold Minho’s hands were, the bony fingers slipping between your warmer ones. Rather than connecting you, you felt it separating you more. “I’m telling you. Reputation and friends help in the long run. Can’t you humor me for a bit?” You heard the hopefulness in Minho’s tone, “I did just help you bury a body. You could at least have lunch with me.”

Chan might be in the cafeteria by now. You guessed walking with Minho wasn’t as bad as going alone. You nodded, and you both set out for the cafeteria. Walking beside Minho, people smiled and nodded their heads at you. You worried that maybe they knew what you’d done to Jisung, but that really was foolish. You didn’t have blood on you anymore, and all evidence laid buried in the garden. As they walked towards the cooking club room, a younger student came out holding a tray of pecan swirls. You noticed the pink streaks weaved into her thin black hair. 

“Hey YN-oppa! Hey Minho-oppa,” she beamed, “You guys want some swirls? We just finished making them to promote the club!”

“Thanks, Chorong-ssi,” Minho smiled, taking one with a napkin to bite into. He spotted your stunned face, “YN-ah, aren’t you gonna take one? Chorong and the club worked hard on these.” 

“Sure.” 

You took one and bit into it, seeing the pleased smile on the girl’s face. It was delicious, with its mixture of cinnamon and pecan flavors. 

“It’s great,” you grinned at her, “Thanks.”

She smiled, “I hope you join the cooking club, Oppa. We’d love to have you.”

You raised an eyebrow, nodding as you bit into the sweet treat again. 

“See you around, Chorong-ssi,” Minho told her, steering you away before you said anything. 

“What was that about?” You asked once out of earshot. 

“I told you being with me raises your reputation.” He then said, “And, well, you’re attractive and Do Chorong likes any guy that’s remotely attractive.” 

“School slut?”

“Far from it,” Minho explained, biting into his snack again. “I created her in case a player wanted to go the ‘matchmaking’ route with a rival.”

“Matchmaking?”

“Yeah, where you find out what your rival likes in their partner, mold an admirer to their taste, and then pair them up. Since Chorong likes everyone, she’s easy to use.” 

You decided to keep that in mind for another time. 

That was when Jeongin came walking towards you. Minho, busy finishing off the pecan swirl, did not notice the panicked realization that came over him. Other people might not see it, but you did. He looked away from you right as he passed by. You wondered what it could be about before you realized you and Minho still held hands. 

Jeongin meant Minho in his warning. 

Minho walked beside you with a satisfied, happy expression, nodding at faculty and students who recognized him. Someone might have thought he walked on clouds. You were unsure how to feel. A lingering uncertainty bundled as you looked at Minho. A cold sweat rushed over you, sticking to your skin and making your hands clammy, when you realized it. This is a game of manipulation and deception. You tried pulling your hand away, but Minho quickly captured it again when they reached the cafeteria doors. Walking past tables, people saw your joined hands, then started whispering to one another. You caught envious glares or excited faces from other students. You knew what they were thinking, and wished they didn’t. You slid your hand out of Minho’s once more, but he instantly recaptured it. 

“Don’t do that again,” Minho warned. 

“I don’t want people getting the wrong idea about us,” you said, glancing back to the room and searching quickly for Chan. 

“You mean you don’t want Chan getting the wrong idea.” Minho sighed, pushing hair from his face, “It’s only lunch. I want to get to know you, YN. There’s no harm in that, is there?”

“I’m supposed to be trying to get Chan to like me.”

“No, you’re supposed to get your beloved,” Minho corrected you. “Whether he actually likes you or not isn’t important to the goal. All you’re meant to do is get him. It’s not my fault you started messing around with the universe to make things work in your favor.” He gave your hand a soft squeeze, “Don’t worry about Chan for now. Let’s grab some food and talk. I know a nice spot in the courtyard where we can get some shade.”

You guessed you owed Minho that much. If he were after you, he would’ve turned you in when he saw you on top of Jisung, but he didn’t. He’d helped instead. You nodded, and let Minho guide you into the lunch line. You hardly paid attention to the food being served or how Minho took hold of your hand again. You thought back to Chan, who was most likely on his way or would be enjoying himself in the garden. You hoped so, then you could look at him at least. Seeing Chan brought so much comfort, which you needed after today.

You and Minho took your lunch trays to the school courtyard. Disappointment sunk your stomach when you didn't see Chan anywhere. You took a seat with Minho underneath one of the trees, and wished to see Chan soon. The older boy began digging into his meal, while you idly pushed noodles around on your plate.

“What’s wrong?” Minho dared to ask, as if you'd not murdered and disposed of a body two hours ago. “Not hungry?”

“I’m fine,” you said, spooning some broth into your mouth. “Just thought Chan might be here.”

“He’s in the garden,” Minho said, “Probably on his way to the cafeteria.” 

“How do you know?”

Minho smiled, biting into a piece of chicken from his plate, “He was supposed to meet Jisung there. But, now that Jisung isn’t going to show, he’s gonna assume the underclassman forgot about their meeting and go to lunch.”

You washed the noodles down with juice, though you barely tasted anything. “Somebody will notice he’s missing,” you stated.

“And they’ll tell one of the teachers-” Minho nodded.

“-The teacher will then call the police to report it-”

“-The police will probably show up here-”

“-And question everyone-”

“-Decide that they have no evidence or suspects and leave-”

“-And Jisung will be declared ‘missing’.” You then said, “I noticed nobody’s gone asking questions about Kitae. Why is that?”

“The staff did report him missing,” he ate more, “And they questioned some people, but nobody saw anything. They don’t have any reason to question you because you weren’t seen with the body or a weapon.” 

“Did they question you?”

“Of course. I’m the student council president, and Kitae was the Freshman class’s representative. They asked if I knew where he went after the morning council meeting, and I said I had no idea. I told them Kitae and I weren’t particularly close, and they took it as that.” He then added, grabbing a tangerine on his tray. “As easy and fun as murder can be, it wouldn’t be wise to outright murder Changbin. The more deaths or disappearances that happen here, the higher the safety alert goes. The principal already warned the hallway monitors to keep their eyes peeled for any suspicious activity. They’re all anxious to find who’s responsible,” he eyed you as he peeled the skin, “So, we need to make it look like an accident. We need to be careful. We gotta work out a strategy for Changbin.”

“We?”

“I might as well help you openly,” he shrugged. “Bott clearly wasn't effective. If you’d played the game the way you were supposed to, then you would’ve gotten through this level quicker.” 

“But, that’s so boring. It was kind of fun scheming to get my way. Difficult and tedious at times, yeah, but still fun.” You picked at the small section of kimchi the school served, “Changbin’s going to be a challenge though.”

“Why’s that?”

“I know almost nothing about him. I know he’s the athletic archetype, and is on the swimming team. His dad does business overseas, and he’s traveled around, but that’s about it.” You sat in thought for a moment, “I’ll need to tail him when his week starts, and see his routine.” 

“He’s definitely a superstar athlete,” Minho agreed, “He’s not only on the swim team. He does track-and-field and soccer too. He’s got a creative side, from what I’ve seen in the art and photography clubs. He’s reasonably popular around school, but not enough that he’s surrounded by people so less witnesses and more chances to lure him away from crowds.” He looked over your shoulder, “Ah, speak of the devil.”

You glanced over to see Changbin walk into the courtyard with a group of boys. You noticed their letterman jackets all depicting different sport logos on the arms. Changbin had the swimming logo on his right sleeve, along with a running man patch and a soccer ball. He and his friends stood underneath a tree across from you and Minho, not paying attention to the people looking at them. You watched Changbin. He smiled freely and laughed often. You saw that he carried a clear green water bottle. Inside was a thick substance that could only be some kind of protein shake. You were sure Minho threw it in there so the player had opportunities to poison Changbin’s drink. But that would be too obvious and too stupid of a move right now. 

“Is he smart?” you asked, seeing Changbin pretend to box with one of the other boys. 

“Eh…define ‘smart’.”

“I’m sure he has to be if he’s able to stay on all these teams.”

“Not if he’s super good and has won medals and achievements for the school to brag about,” Minho said. “Whenever he obviously fails a test, the teacher passes him anyway. They need to keep their star athlete in school.”

“Why would Chan like someone so dumb? He should be dating someone on his own level intellectually. You know, somebody he can talk to and have deep conversations with,” you said, “Not a neanderthal who can do a few good laps around a pool or a track.” 

“Changbin might have an empty head, but he’s thoughtful and sweet. He’s very passionate about his hobbies and interests, which is something Chan likes. They don’t share similar tastes, but Changbin is willing to teach him and Chan enjoys learning new things. He cares about other people, and always tries his best at anything he does. Chan likes that sort of thing. Changbin likes Chan because he’s athletic too, and very smart. He's Whimoon’s golden boy," Minho said, eating another piece. "Everybody likes him. It’ll be hard to convince people he’s done anything wrong.”

“Okay, so what do you suggest then?” 

“Poison his shake, obviously.”

“Wouldn’t another death put the school on alert?”

“Not if it looks like an accident.”

You thought about it for a moment. Jeongin’s warning floated through your head once again. Play by the game’s rules, not Minho’s. But, surely Minho is the game if he created it? You stared at Minho’s smirk, eyes glinting with mischief, and couldn’t get Jeongin out of your head. 

“Is there anything else I can do?” you asked after a while. “Poison seems so easy.”

“It is. That’s why you should do it,” he said. “It wouldn’t be hard to get poison. You can either make one in the chemistry lab or buy one from Hyunjin. It’ll cost you a lot to buy it from Hyunjin, but I can always change that for you.” 

“Death sounds risky.”

“This game is all about risks. Poison him. It’ll be worth it to see him choke on his gross protein shake.” 

“Shouldn’t I, as the player, get to choose my own route?” 

“I’m the developer. I’m only trying to help you.” 

Play by the game. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll figure out a way myself.” 

Realizing he wouldn’t win this time, Minho sighed defeatedly. “Tail him next week and see if you find anything you can use against him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everybody at this school has secrets,” he said. He moved closer to you and faced the groups in the yard. “Each of them has something that you can exploit if you choose to. Like Song Sungmi? Her parents are actually poor, and she pretends to have money so she can fit in. Jeong Yunho? He runs a secret gambling den in his family’s basement. And let’s not forget Park Yuri who sells naughty photos of herself on the internet.” He took up another piece of tangerine, and said, “Changbin has one. You only need to find out what it is, then you decide what to do with the information.” 

“What’s the secret?” You asked him. 

“Give me a kiss and I’ll tell you,” Minho sneered, giving you a wink. 

“I’ll figure it out on my own then.”

Minho huffed, and moved away from him. “You can do several things with his secret. You can expose it so then he feels humiliated and withdraws from school. You can blackmail him and force him to stop liking Chan. You can use it to befriend him, even.��� 

“Huh, interesting.” 

“Very.” 

Exposing a dirty secret sounded like an intriguing route. You knew another disappearance could make things harder. You began wondering what Changbin’s secret could possibly be, since he seemed far too sweet to have any. You spent the rest of lunch trying to figure out what route to take with Changbin; Minho spent it staring at you. 

****

You sped through the rest of the day to get to swim practice, the only place you saw Chan uninterrupted. You walked into the locker room to see the other team members preparing for the pool. You peeked into the aisles of lockers before finding Changbin. He sat on the bench in his uniform, texting and smiling at his phone. You noticed it wasn’t a smartphone but a slim black device with a plain cover. You took note of this and moved onwards.

You passed by into the next aisle where you found Chan by his locker. Like everyone else, he immediately switched from his school uniform to his swim uniform. You took a second to admire his body in the tight uniform. You'd do anything to steal those trunks and take them home. You briefly thought of the napkin you’d stolen and the faint saucy scent that had been on them.  

“Hi, Chan-hyung,” you smiled, coming up beside him to open your own locker. 

“Hi, YN-ah,” he replied. “I didn’t see you in class this morning. I hope everything’s okay.”

“Oh, everything’s fine,” you said. “My alarm didn’t go off and I overslept.”

“Alright, as long as you’re okay,” Chan grinned. He then hesitated as he reached for his swim cap. “YN-ah, this might sound like a personal question, and it’s none of my business, but I’m only curious.”

Your stomach churned, but you still said, “You can always ask me anything.”

“Are you and Lee Minho dating?”

You laughed nervously, pushing hair from your face, “Um, wh-what do you mean?”

“Well, I was in the cafeteria today and I saw you two holding hands. I thought maybe there was something between you guys.”

You knew this would happen. You scrambled for an excuse, any excuse, to explain it. The thought of Chan losing interest because he thinks you're taken lodged a breath in your throat. “No, no,” you said quickly, “We’re not dating. Minho’s student council president, and he wanted to show me around.” 

“By the hand?”

“I guess. He said it was so I didn’t lose him in the crowds. I suppose people took it differently.”

Chan’s worried expression brightened after this. That must be a good sign. You changed into your own swimsuit, but couldn’t keep your eyes off Chan. Why had Chan worried about you dating Minho? The prospect of Chan developing feelings made you happier than you'd ever been. Perhaps you might get to leave this damned game world sooner than anticipated. But then that meant leaving Chan as well. 

Walking to the pool area with Chan, you imagined him confessing his feelings to you on Friday. The game appeared to be running differently since you reconfigured it. It’d certainly speed things up if Chan fell in love with you. But, the dreadful thought occurred to you again. If you leave Lovesick, then you’d have to go home. You’d go back to your boring life that’s void of Chan. You’d have to continue life without him, and the thought alone nearly brought you to tears. You couldn’t stand the thought of not having him. You needed him. You didn’t care if it was your game files fueling these ideas; you loved Chan. You loved him more than anyone else; your rivals only liked Chan for his looks. You loved him for his heart. 

You considered ways of getting Chan alone before Changbin appeared. Your blood simmered seeing the two exchange friendly words, watching the other members swim. You didn't like how Changbin looked at Chan. You didn't like the way Changbin’s boyish sweetness seemed to shine brightest around Chan. Your Chan. YOUR. Chan. You tightly gripped the towel ends on your shoulders, absentmindedly pulling them tighter on the nape of your neck. You'd love nothing more than to strangle the stupid boy until his face turned purple, but no. Another death on campus could make things more difficult. You needed to know Changbin’s secret.

Quickly, you dove into the pool and began swimming towards Changbin and Chan at the other end. When you reached them, you climbed out and rubbed off excess water from your face. Chan turned his head at the sound. 

"Chan-hyung!" you smiled excitedly, "Did you see my dive? I think it was one of my best."

"I'm sorry, YN-ah," Chan said apologetically, "I didn't. But, I'm sure you were great."

"It was okay," Changbin voiced disinterestedly. "You were a bit shaky at the beginning."

"I'm still getting used to jumping off your boards," you told him, keeping the defense out of your voice. "The ones at my old school were a bit stiffer, and these boards  are so springy." 

"That's okay. You'll get used to them soon," Chan assured you. "I heard you're very good."

"Thanks. You're good too," you replied. 

Changbin's eyes glinted with envy before turning away. 

“Wanna race, Hyung?” you asked Chan, putting a daring tone into your voice. “Loser buys snacks after practice.”

Chan grinned, dimples sinking into his cheeks, “You’re on. Changbin-ah, you want in?”

Changbin stared between them, and shook his head, “Nah. You guys go ahead. I, um, have stuff to do after practice.”

“What’s up? Too chicken to race me?” You challenged with a smirk.

“YN-ah, don’t be mean,” Chan nudged you playfully. “Changbin has a busy schedule, so he’s always running off after practice. He can join in another time, right Binnie-yah?”

“Yeah. Another time.”

He was hiding something; he couldn’t meet Chan’s eyes as he responded. You headed towards the springboards with Chan, but turned to look over your shoulder. Changbin had picked up his phone from the depths of his towel, and was texting someone. A dealer? A secret lover? You were eager to discover it, but you’d have to wait for Changbin’s level. The wait alone could kill you. 

“How many laps?” Chan asked, stepping onto his board. 

“Two.” 

You and Chan began your friendly competition. You won the first round, but Chan won the second. Declaring it a tie, you both left the pool when practice ended. You offered to still pay for the snacks, but Chan’s money hit the snack counter first. He was so sweet. You truly saw yourself becoming Chan’s boyfriend. 

*** Later That Night ***

This was bad. This was very bad. They’d certainly never expected it to happen. 

Minho never revealed himself to players before. He usually stuck to the shadows and played ‘Lee Minho, Student Council President’ as the player stumbled their way through the game. He'd lie in wait until the player reached the final level, then attack. He always changed how he did it too. Sometimes he killed them on the first day; other times, he toyed with them. He'd delete objects from the game right as they'd set a plan. He'd wire certain characters to stop the player from achieving their goals. The players smart enough to outwit him ended up in a fist fight with Minho at the end. He'll usually be a wild animal by then. They particularly liked it when he lost. Fondly, they recalled the time a player, a big brute of a man, grabbed the scrawny boy and bashed him into the wall repeatedly. The Game couldn't help but reward the player handsomely with a female Chan they'd created. 

But, now he's outright revealed himself to you. Of course, Minho lied right to your face, but they knew the truth. 

They stopped. They might not have their own body anymore, but it still stung. The burning hot pain came like a phantom ache, and they recalled the night Minho locked them away. He hacked into the game through the controls, and changed everything the creator built. They'd lost their body and their mind. They became a prisoner in their own home. Watching their captor be tortured and killed became their one source of happiness. 

They went through the camera views to watch you. You laid flat on your stomach in bed, holding a stained wadded up napkin in your hand. This could not be Sunghoon’s coding anymore; other players walked around with his personality and desires, but never acted on them. Did this mean you'd naturally developed feelings for Chan now, no longer restricted to the codes? They couldn't help being joyful at the idea. You having set them free meant they could float around behind the pixels creating their world. They could never touch or speak to you, but they can watch out for you. They could help you. Unlike Minho, who has the minimum control, they made things appear out of thin air. That was the beauty of being the game's true developer. 

That was the beauty of having been Bahng Chan. 

****

A/N: The plot thickens!! Can Minho be trusted or should YN stick to his gut? What's up with our little binary friend too?? We'll find out. Please reblog and like <3

[thebirdandhersong]

.

[rotisseries]

do you want to ramble about botw and totk?

this got long

YESSSSSS OK SO. botw zelda. I'm starting this off with a real attention grabber for you she's strangers coded to me. anyway. plotline of botw. the last time this hyrule has had a ganon encounter was 10k years ago. hyrule's whole thing is that the legend of the knight and the princess and the evil is a legend that has been passed down for generations, (sidenote I kind of hold the fun little headcanon that each zelda game is its own version of the same folktale, as opposed to being part of a real linear history, because frankly I know the devs don't actually care about the canonical timeline and I think some fans care too much. timeline is still fun though) so as you can imagine, 10k years, the current hyrule of botw is VERY divorced from its history, that's a pretty large part of botw in general, reconciling with the past. anyway the sheer lack of knowledge about the legend and the goddess power and anything related to it is making things very difficult for zelda. they have reason to believe that they're gonna have another ganon encounter soon, they've uncovered all these ancient robots and mechas that were used in the last battle, they're assembling a team of pilots for the mechas, they've gotten the current wielder of the master sword to protect the princess (link and zelda are like. 16/17 for the duration of the plot but link got the master sword at like 12. fucked up) and zelda is being expected to access her divine power, she can't. she doesn't know how, and her mother died when she was 6 (she didn't cry at the funeral. fucked) so she can't go to her for guidance, and her father is having her go to, and has been having her do this for years now, to sacred spring after sacred spring to pray in the hopes of accessing it. so she's dealing with a lot of pressure, and she just wants to work on the robots she is such a scientific mind its the cutest, zelink infodumping scenes my beloved, but she's also really focused on the ancient tech cause it's the only way she can think of to help, and her dad just gets more mad (her dad is such a shitbag. at some point he tells her she's the heir to a throne of nothing but failure. asswipe) about it cause he thinks she's not focusing enough on getting her powers so she feels powerless she feels like a failure and when link gets assigned to protect her it causes a lot of initial dislike for him because, to her, he's this embodiment of destined perfection she can't reach. he has the master sword he's their most skilled and youngest swordsman she's just a failure she's convinced he must hate her. he must think she's useless. and link won't communicate with her (this is the first zelda game with voiced lines and so therefore the first one where they give a canonical reason he doesn't say anything in cutscenes. it's because of the endless amount of pressure he's under, he feels like he has to be the perfect stoic swordsman. I could kill myself) so it's not really helping. eventually he saves her life from some yiga clan grunts and the yiga clan are basically evil ninjas and they grow to be friends, she confides in him in cutscenes, she has a diary you can find that implies he confided in her off screen, fun stuff, but she's not any closer to getting her power. then, on her 17th birthday, she goes up to the spring of wisdom to pray, (yes there are two others they are the springs of power and courage) because that's the hyrulean age of majority and adults are the only ones allowed to go up the mountain to the spring, and she has a feeling it's the last time. it will work, or it won't. they come down the mountain to where the champions are waiting (the champions are the aforementioned mecha pilots and I haven't really talked about them but they're all really good characters I love them also totk has a second gen of champions basically that are called the sages and I like the sages but I still prefer the champions I found out at some point not everyone feels the same way which. I genuinely don't get. but I'm gonna shut up about that now) and it hasn't worked. zelda doesn't have her power.

they're in the middle of comforting her, they get cut off by this horrible earthquake, they look towards the castle, and there’s this swirling mass over the castle, ganon is attacking. the champions rush to their mechas, and link and zelda run. the number one priority is to keep zelda alive. they head for hateno fort. (yes as in hateno the town with the house in totk. you can buy the house in botw and there’s a theory it was link's childhood home) they possibly went to the castle first and found out exactly what happened though, because on the way to hateno, zelda has a breakdown, screaming and crying about how everyone is dead and its all her fault, and they ARE dead. everyone at the castle is definitely dead, but ganon also managed to posses every single one of the hundreds of robots they had, AND had put evil blights in the mechas to ambush the champions, and the robots are wreaking havoc and the champions die in a losing battle in what was supposed to be their weapons of war. zelda and link make it to the field outside hateno, but there’s still robots everywhere, and link is on his last legs protecting zelda. he's about to get shot, and then she pushes him out of the way and finally has her divine power, she shuts down all the robots, and then turns to where link has collapsed. he dies in her arms. he gets taken to this shrine of resurrection to be healed until he can fight again, and zelda heads to the castle to hold ganon off until link is ready. she waits for 100 years.

100 years goes by, link wakes up an amnesiac, has to be given the gist of it, and then you wander around hyrule finding out all that ^ through various recovered memories (there’s a similar game mechanic in totk but it doesn't work as well imo bc in botw you can discover them at random and nothing bad happens, you already know how this story ends, whereas in totk it DOES spoil shit) you have to go free each of the mechas from the evil blights (which btw have similar weapons and fighting styles as the champions but otherwise bear no similarities and I just think it would've been fucked if they looked like the possessed bodies of the champions idk) and then you gotta go save zelda from the castle. you and her end ganon, it's an emotional meeting, the ghosts you were haunted by fade, and then the two of them leave, presumably to rebuild hyrule. so basically botw is about reconciling with the past, looking to it for guidance and forgiving yourself for the failures but moving on in spite of it, and I'm fucking normal

and then totk. so. link and zelda are investigating ruins under the castle cause weird shit has been happening lately, gross magic pouring out and making people sick. and then they get really deep, and find the decimated corpse of ganon, the man, being held by a magical hand. the magic is coming from him. ganon wakes up when they get in there, goes to attack them with the magic, link gets his arm fucked up and also the master sword this will be relevant later, and zelda falls down into this pit, link jumps after her, but he's saved by the aforementioned magic hand, he loses zelda. they're reaching for each other. also totk takes place like 6ish years after botw that's his common law wife of 6 years. and they lost each other once already for 100 years. oh god I'm so upset. anyway then the whole plot, is trying to find zelda. you wake up on some sky islands there are sky islands, your arm is now replaced with the magic arm, and the broken master sword has to be put in this mysterious glowing golden light. you go around you get help from your friends, who get dubbed the sages, and you discover, through a game mechanism similar to the lost memories botw quest, that zelda fell back in time. zelda has light powers as a general thing that's usually her power, in some games she also has prophetic visions, and in totk, you find out she also has time powers in her ancestry, and she accidentally sent herself back in time. at least 10k years most likely more. and she's hanging out with her ancestors, the first king and queen of hyrule. (timeline wise they are not actually the first king and queen of hyrule but whatever) the king is an anthropomorphic llama?? from the sky islands. zelda franchise tends to have furry species btw. anyway ganondorf is a threat back then too and zelda has to help the king and queen come up with a plan to defeat him it's a really fun journey she gets a lot of healing to that self esteem that her dad fucked up BUT ANYWAY. they realize they won't be able to permanently get rid of ganon and zelda has unbelievable amounts of faith in link and says that if they can contain ganon for now you can take care of it in the future, the king ends up having to sacrifice himself, and his arm, to keep ganon contained. and zelda still has no way back home to her time. then she sees this glowing golden light, and whoo! there's the master sword! it's still fucked up though. the only way to fix the sword is through bathing it in sacred power, and it's REALLY damaged, and zelda STILL HAS NO WAY HOME. so she turns herself into a dragon. there's these special stones that amplify magical power, she has one, and swallowing it turns you into an immortal dragon, at the cost of losing yourself. she holds the sword to herself, and it's going to bathe in her sacred power for 10k years or more. at the point you find out about this it's so fucked up cause you come out of the cutscene and you're surrounded by silent princess flowers and oh my god I haven't even explained the silent princess symbolism to you oh my god that's a whole other thing, anyway and dragon zelda is flying above you and at this point you've seen her around the map several other times and there were 3 other dragons in botw so you were kinda confused where this one came from but it was cool and it's just. ugh it's so fucked up. I kinda guessed the possibility early I just didn't want to acknowledge it. anyway then you get the sword from dragon zelda and it is stuck in her forehead poor baby and the sword claim scene is GORGEOUS and to the best of your knowledge and link's knowledge zelda is gone forever, and she did this for you. IT'S SO FUCKEDDDD and then when you get to fighting ganon he eventually turns himself into a dragon and dragon zelda comes to help you battle it out with dragon ganon and when you finally kill him the spirits? of zelda's ancestors show up, I think via the magical hand, and the one with time powers reverse both link's arm damage and zelda's draconification, and then you're both falling, and he has to catch her.

and it mirrors the last time she fell, when he lost her, and this time he catches her, and he hugs her to him, and they fall into a pond, and he carries her out and she wakes up and looks at him and says that she was in a deep sleep and woke up when she felt a warm loving embrace and "oh link! I'm home" and AUGHHHHHHGH SHE HAD SO MUCH FAITH IN HIM THEY'RE SO IN LOVE I'M GONNA THROW UP.

anyway so totk continues botw's themes of contending with the past and moving past old failures and making things right, but it also is really good as a sequel to botw in that botw is a very lonesome journey, and everything about totk emphasizes that you are no longer alone. you have friends to help you, it's no longer you alone in world you don't recognize that doesn't remember you, it's you having help. you don’t need to do it alone anymore. and it's just. UGHHHH. I like botw better than totk I think totk's story feels a bit lacking at times? but I think overall it works really well as a sequel in continuing and working with the themes that botw has

[wttcsms]

come right on me (i mean camaraderie!)

ᝰ.ᐟ starting a new job is scary, especially when it seems like you can’t do anything correctly. good thing that your manager is always so kind and reassuring and supportive. when a client meeting ends terribly and runs so late that the two of you have to check into a hotel to spend the night, your sweet manager knows a good way to cheer you up… ( fem!reader )

pairing tetsurou kuroo x reader word count 4.9k content contains praise kink, oh no!!! there's only one bed!!!, coworkers/power imbalance (he's your manager, you're the newest and youngest member on the team), slight manipulation from kuroo (he's aware of your crush on him and uses your admiration as leverage), occasionally refers to you as his kouhai, you call him kuroo-senpai, creampie, sex in an enclosed, semi-public space (the office's supply closet), first time blowjobs kinktober masterlist

If you had known that your transfer would have resulted in you getting fucked boneless in the supply closet of the company you work for…

Well, you would have announced your job transfer a little bit sooner.

“Kuroo— Ah!” You let out a helpless yelp as you feel Kuroo’s teeth bite down on the soft part of your shoulder, sure to leave a mark. “K-Kuroo, slow down!”

“Kuroo? Really?” He snarls, lifting his head up to glare down at you. “Tsk, and here I thought you were a star employee. Is that any way to speak to your manager, or is it because you’re moving that you’re deciding to drop the formalities?” 

Your heart drops at the sound of Kuroo seemingly dissatisfied with you. Out of everyone in this office, he’s always been the one to root for you the hardest. You look up to him! Even when he’s upset, all you want to do is make him feel better. Just like how he made you feel better that time after that horrendous client meeting last month…

“Kuroo-senpai,” you mutter out, avoiding staring at him entirely. “I’m sorry.”

You’re bowing your head in apology, but Kuroo merely laughs, shaking his head.

“Don’t apologize. These things happen.” Kuroo is smiling, and from the crinkle of his eye and the carefree tone he’s using, it’s genuine. Kuroo isn’t upset with you, and somehow, this only makes you feel worse.

“But I ruined the meeting.” You remind him. “I stuttered when speaking to the client, and then I totally didn’t know how to properly react whenever he—” 

This is when Kuroo’s friendly demeanor darkens. “There would be no proper reaction to what he said.” The client, an older man who’s been working for so long in corporate Japan that back in his day, women could only serve as secretaries and belittled assistants, had made a less-than-savory remark on you and the way your pencil skirt hugs your figure. It had been a test of self-restraint for Kuroo to remain civil and smiling and to not punch him from across the table, but you don’t know that. “Our company shouldn’t sign contracts with men like him, anyway. I’ll write up everything in the report, and you won’t get reprimanded at all, okay?” He’s back to his normal, cheery self, and you nod.

Kuroo always knows what to do. 

And in your case, Kuroo is always making you feel better for being inadequate. A fresh college graduate, it’s a wonder how you managed to snag a position on one of the marketing teams for Japan’s Volleyball Association. Now, in your head, it’s a wonder how you manage to keep the damn position. You just can’t seem to do anything right, and even your coworkers are no longer shy in shaking their heads and sighing every time you mess something up. 

The only person who doesn’t seem to mind the little mistakes you make or the minor trouble you cause is Tetsurou Kuroo, the official unofficial golden boy of the sports promotion division. He’s a bit older than you, but still one of the youngest members belonging to the JVA’s marketing and promotional division. Already, there’s whispers about how Kuroo is most likely going to move up the hierarchy and soon — the Chief of Public Relations position will be opening up due to an early retirement from the current chief, and everyone knows that Kuroo has connections with a majority of the monster generation; not to mention, he’s charming enough to get everyone to go along with what he says.

You admire your senior colleague greatly, and because of your admiration and the fact that he’s the most sympathetic towards you, causing him trouble always makes you feel ten times worse than when you normally mess up. Even if he tells you everything is alright, you’re still frowning, staring down at your shoes. 

“Ah, shit.” Kuroo curses, staring up at the darkening sky as rain starts to descend down on the two of you. “Looks like the storm is coming early.” 

“It’s more like we’re just running late.” You say miserably. Because of you, the client meeting dragged on for even longer than scheduled, and the two of you were already running on a tight enough schedule as is. The JVA needed to secure a contract with a sneaker company to do some joint collaboration billboards, and even with a major thunderstorm predicted for this evening, the company was convinced Kuroo would be able to wrap up the meeting (successfully) and get the both of you on the train home before the storm came.

Now, though, it���s later than when you two were supposed to catch the train, and with the way the weather is worsening at such a rapid speed, it seems like making it to the train station before the last one runs will be impossible. 

“Follow me.” Kuroo tells you, trying to be heard over the wind. You nod, but you don’t expect him to grab your hand. With the wind whipping in your face and the chill of rain soaking through your work clothes, Kuroo’s hand is surprisingly warm. You allow yourself to be practically dragged behind him as he jogs to the nearest inn. Even in a soaked suit, running against the storm’s wind, Kuroo still manages to hold his own just fine. You’re glad his back is turned to you; at least this way, you can admire his athleticism in private.

Kuroo leads the two of you into a nearby hotel. The place looks fancy; way out of your budget. You feel bad as you practically stand there awkwardly, wetting the nice, expensive looking marble floors of the hotel while Kuroo talks to the woman up front. You notice that she’s biting her lip, eyeing the way the fabric of Kuroo’s suit clings to his body because of the rainwater. It only serves to emphasize the muscles he continues to maintain despite no longer playing the sport he’s paid to promote. Seeing the way she’s admiring him gives you a weird feeling inside, so you turn away, avoiding looking at them. 

“Bad news.” Kuroo runs a hand through the wet strands of his hair. “Turns out they’re fully booked. There’s only one room left, but it’s a couple’s suite.”

“Oh.” It makes sense that the two of you would have to spend the night in the city. The trains have probably stopped running now, and with the storm, it’s only reasonable to just wait it out ‘til the morning. “Well… A couple’s suite should be big enough, right?” 

“Space wise, yes.” Kuroo clears his throat. “But it’s for couples. There’s only going to be one bed.” 

Oh. 

You feel heat rising to your cheeks as you let this information sink in. A fancy hotel. A fancy hotel with a fancy couple’s suite. A fancy hotel with a fancy couple’s suite that only has one bed. And you’re with Kuroo, your very kind, understanding coworker. Your senior colleague. Your manager. Your totally hot manager. 

“What should we do?” You peer up at him, looking at him for the solution. You don’t know it, but he loves the face you make when you’re asking him for help. Your eyes go all wide and seek him out, eagerly awaiting for him to guide you.

“You can have the room. This isn’t the only hotel in existence, so I’ll probably head out and try to find a room somewhere else.” 

“No!” You’re shocked he would even want to go back out in this storm. Your exclamation is literally punctuated with the crack of thunder booming from the sky. “You can’t go back out there.” And because you’re aware of how rude your outburst was, you soften your voice. “Kuroo-senpai, I don’t think it would be reasonable for you to put yourself in harm’s way. We’re both adults, right? I… I don’t mind— We can just figure out the sleeping arrangements when we get into the room?” 

Kuroo smiles. 

“My kouhai has a point. You’re always so sharp, [Name].” 

You don’t know why, but despite the chill of your wet clothes and the air conditioning of the hotel lobby, you feel a warmth settling in your tummy and rising all the way to your chest as you let Kuroo’s praise blanket you. 

For a couple’s suite, there really isn’t much space to work with. The bed takes up most of the room, a grand king-sized mattress, plenty of space for two people to sleep on (and with each other). There’s a tiny loveseat in the corner that might just have been there for decoration or the opportunity to try out a different position, you’re not quite sure. The bathroom is connected, and the place has rose petals all over the floor and floral scented candles lit up. 

Kuroo lets out a whistle. “They weren’t kidding when they said couple’s suite.” 

You can only nod in agreement. 

“Do you wanna shower first?” The minute Kuroo suggests this, you’re instantly aware of just how wet your clothes are. Your white blouse is clinging to your skin, and when you look down slowly, you’re horrified to realize just how transparent the material got when drenched. Before you can get too embarrassed over the situation, Kuroo puts you (or tries to, anyway) at ease, just like he always does. “I’m glad no one else was in the lobby when we came, because I’m sure I look a mess.”

A hot mess, maybe. And hot in the sense that Kuroo looks too good right now. He looks like he just came straight out of a designer cologne ad or something. 

“Y-you can shower first.” You manage to squeak out. “It’s only fair. You’re the one who’s been doing most of the work all day.” 

While Kuroo’s in the bathroom, you’re practically spiraling. How are the two of you going to explain the charge of a couple’s suite on the company credit card? It wouldn’t have been so weird if you had been with one of your female managers or vice versa, but you and Kuroo are the closest in age to each other. The meeting dragged out for far longer than originally planned, and you’re worried about how the two of you will be perceived. If anything, Kuroo has the most to lose. Any enemies of his could easily use this as a way to stop him from getting his well deserved promotion. Oh God, you definitely ruined his shot at promotion. You’re terrible. You’re—

“Seems like someone’s thinking a little too hard.” Kuroo’s teasing tone pulls you from your rapid fire overthinking. 

You wish you hadn’t looked up. Standing in front of you is a shirtless Kuroo, his abs tight and glistening with droplets of water left over from his shower. The white towel is wrapped around his waist, but the view he’s providing is already enough to make you acutely aware of the fact that Kuroo is a man. His normally uncontrollable hair is weighed down with water, damp strands hanging in his face. And he has the nerve to just stand in front of you so casually, as if he isn’t practically naked! 

Maybe you’re the weird one. Great. So you’re practically eye-fucking your manager after despairing over how you basically might be the reason why he’s going to miss out on a great job opportunity. Right after you performed horribly during a client meeting, and then made him save you by finding you shelter in a very nice hotel. 

“I’m the worst.” You groan, frowning as you look up at him. 

“Hey, don’t say that.” He frowns right back at you. “That’s not true at all.” 

“You’re just saying that because you’re nice.” 

He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “A lot of people wouldn’t call me nice. It’s sweet that you would, though.” 

“How can that be true? Kuroo-senpai is the nicest person to me at work!” 

“Am I really?” You don’t notice how dangerous the glint in his eyes are, but you do have enough intuition to sense a shift in his demeanor. “Do you like that your senpai is so nice to you?” 

You don’t know what you do to him. It’s why you don’t realize how you’re essentially unchaining the beast locked up inside of him as you reply, “I like everything about Kuroo-senpai.” 

“I’m glad to hear that, because I like everything about my little kouhai, too.” 

Your eyes widen at this confession. The butterflies in your tummy are doing cartwheels right now. You can’t believe what you’re hearing, what you’re seeing. Are you hallucinating right now? That’s the only reasonable conclusion, but as Kuroo leans forward, you find yourself leaning a bit further back, just on instinct. He’s so much larger than you, more imposing. You feel like you have to shrink when he starts to close the distance between the two of you. He places his hands on the mattress you’re sitting on, effectively caging you in between his arms as he leans down even closer to you. So close that a drop of water from his hair lands right on your thigh. 

“Do you like me enough to let me kiss you?” 

Apparently, you like him enough to let him do much more than just kiss you. The kisses start off gentle enough. His lips are a bit chapped, but you like the feel of them against your much softer ones. He swallows up your little desperate whimpers, and he moves at a pace you can adapt to. When he notices you getting more confident in your movements, he gets rougher, more aggressive. It’s not just whimpers that he’s inhaling, now, but moans. Even in the heat of the moment, though, Kuroo still has enough restraint, enough decency, left in him to continue to ask for your permission. 

“Do you like me enough to let me do this?” He asks you, fingers prodding at the buttons of your work attire. You nod weakly, dizzy with pleasure from just a few kisses. He takes a sharp inhale of breath when your bra is revealed to him, and then he’s helping you slip out of your skirt, and he has to take a few seconds to admire the matching lace set you’re wearing. “I didn’t know my little kouhai was hiding this underneath her work clothes.” He mutters, and you can’t help but thrive off of the attention he’s giving you. 

He leans down ‘til his mouth is so close to your ear, you can practically feel the heat of his breath as he whispers, “Does my precious kouhai like me enough to let me play with her cute pussy?” 

You think you’re going to faint. You can barely breathe as you nod your permission, but he merely tsks. “Use your words, sweetheart. Otherwise, I won’t know.” 

He’s toying with you now. There’s a purpose to him asking his questions the way he does; he wants to see how far your admiration, your devotion, to him runs. A workplace crush might let him get away with a few kisses, but what about pounding into your sweet cunt? Do you like him enough to let him do that? 

Apparently, you do. Because you’re getting over your shyness. Because you’re whispering, “Yes. I l-like you enough to let you play with my pussy.” 

“Atta girl.” 

He’s on you within milliseconds. The pretty panties you’re wearing are now on the floor of this hotel room. He’s quick enough to figure out how to unclasp your bra, and that’s thrown to the ground as well. Laying completely bare and exposed, your work senpai wastes no time in having his hands explore your body, feeling out all the curvatures and angles that make you you. 

He takes a finger to pet at your cunt, humming approval when he already feels traces of slick gathering on the pad of his ring finger. “Did you get wet just from a couple lil’ kisses?” 

You don’t want to answer him, turning your head to the side in embarrassment because yes, you did, but his grin only widens. He presses a kiss to your cheek, finding you downright cute. “Don’t be shy. You did nothing wrong.” 

You did nothing wrong. 

He’s always telling you this, and the kind words never fail to make you feel all warm inside. That’s one of your favorite phrases to hear, but somehow, it hits differently whenever he’s pairing that heartwarming phrase with his finger in your cunt. 

“Ah, fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” He grunts out, moving his ring finger in and out, in and out. “You know what I think you need? I think you need your senpai’s help in loosening you up. It’ll be good for you, wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod your head enthusiastically, and because you think he might like to hear you say it, you admit what he already knows. “Kuroo-senpai is right. You always know what I need.” 

“Good girl.” The praise has you tightening around his finger, and your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed. He smirks, pleased with how sweet and pliant you are for him. A few bits of praise thrown your way, and you become a slut for him.

It’s a good thing your senpai cares about you so much. He cares about you so much that he’s adding his middle finger to the mix, curling the two fingers against your walls, relishing in your little mewls of pleasure. He’ll have to stretch you out, get you all nice and prepped for his cock. He cares about you, which is why he’s going to let you cum. 

“Feelin’ good?” He asks, knowing that from your moans of pleasure, you definitely are. His fingers work wonders within you, and Kuroo can’t help but admire how cute you are, his little kouhai. What would you do without him, hm? He loves the way your knees jerk and how you whimper every time his fingers curl right up against that sweet spot inside of you, the one your tiny fingers can’t seem to reach no matter how hard you try. Your cute little cunt is already so wet, so ready for his cock, that neither of you can seem to ignore the squelching sounds it’s making as he continues to work his fingers in and out of you. When he presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing tiny figure-eights on the bud, you cry out his name, tacking on that familiar honorific he loves to hear falling from your sweet lips, as you cum all over his fingers. You cum so much that your essence is dripping onto his palm, trailing down to his wrist, and he thinks that this is exactly where you should be, where you always should be. 

“You’re so good for me. Look at how much my good girl came.” He coos, and you should be embarrassed about the mess you made, but when he sings out his praise for you like that, you can’t help but feel a tiny bit proud. 

“Can my good girl make me even prouder? Can you take my cock right now, [Name]?” 

Even if you couldn’t, you still wouldn’t have denied him. It’s a lucky thing, then, that you’re so desperate for him. You spread your legs even wider, inviting him, and who is Kuroo to leave such a precious girl waiting and wanting? It’d be cruel to. 

Which is why he doesn’t make you wait. 

Instead, he plunges his bare cock right into your pussy, groaning with satisfaction as he feels you clamp down on him. Of course you’d be clinging to him; you’re always clinging onto him, always following after him. Such a sweet girl, his lovely, adorable junior colleague. The kouhai who likes him so much, you’d allow him to fuck you nice and hard, to really make use of this couple’s suite and its obnoxious sized bed. 

He quickens his pace almost instantly, giving you no time to adapt to his girth and length. He grins when he sees your little fucked out expression, the way your tongue peeks out from between your pretty, pink lips and the way your cheeks are flushed, your hair a mess. The soft, breathy moans that escape from your mouth. You’re going dumb on his cock, and that’s perfectly fine by him. Let him do all the thinking, anyway. 

Kuroo places a hand on your lower belly, trying to gauge just how deep he’s thrusting into you, and when he finds out, he applies more pressure, pressing down on your soft skin, forcing you to take every inch he has to offer. He’s wringing out soft “ah ah ah!”s from you, and your legs wrap around him almost instinctively as you warn him that you’re about to cum once again. 

“So soon?” He grunts out, grinning meanly. “Normally, senpais don’t expect such slutty behavior from their coworkers, but since it’s me you’re going stupid for, I’ll let it pass.” Your legs are closing in on his body, your whole body jerking a bit as you start to lose control. “Go ahead and make me proud. Cum all over my cock like a good kouhai.” 

The minute the request leaves his mouth, you do. You cum all over his length, as he instructed, and he lets out a short laugh at how devoted you are to him.

“Good girl, my best girl.” He grunts out, fucking your cunt at a leisurely pace now before stilling, letting his own cum flood inside your perfect pussy. “My perfect little kouhai. You did so good for me.” 

And with your cunt full of your senpai’s cum, his cock still plugging you up and keeping everything tucked safely inside, he gives you a rather chaste forehead kiss that has you swooning.

Honestly, you don’t expect much to change between the two of you. It’s not like you think Kuroo’s just going to get down on one knee and let you take his last name or anything. You’re still trying to convince yourself that that night wasn’t some hyper-realistic dream, and the only proof that it was real was the remainder of his cum still settled inside your pussy when you woke up the morning after. 

Kuroo is still a good work senpai, always coming to your defense and fixing your mistakes. 

But you can’t help but wonder if he thinks that night he fucked you is just another work mistake of yours that he has to fix. Because of this, you’ve gone out of your way to avoid him as much as possible. So when the director of your team calls you to his office to let you know that the transfer request you put in months ago, way before that night at the hotel, finally got approved, all you can do is bow your head in thanks and return to your cubicle in a daze.

You don’t know what to do, and the person you would normally come to for guidance is the one person you’re trying to minimize interaction with.

However, word of your transfer spreads fast. After all, it’s a cause for celebration when the weakest link of the team is finally moving far, far away. Your coworkers are all being much kinder to you, and in the middle of them congratulating you on your move, you look across the room and lock eyes with Kuroo. His facial expression betrays nothing, but he quickly mouths supply closet before sneaking out of the office.

Five minutes later, you manage to follow him, gently opening the door to the closet, only to be dragged in immediately. The click of the door locking is loud, heard even above your rapidly rising heart beat, and that’s how you find yourself being ravished by Kuroo, during work hours, at your workplace.

When he chastises you for addressing him so casually, you immediately feel terrible. 

“Kuroo-senpai,” you mutter out, avoiding staring at him entirely. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah?” He growls out, keeping you pressed firmly against the wall. “What’re you so sorry for? For avoiding me, or for withholding the fact that you’re going to move all the way to Kyoto?” 

You shake your head, tiny droplets of tears gathering up in your eyes. When you look at him like that, like a little puppy who just got kicked, it only makes him want to ruin you some more, if only so he can have the honor of being the one to piece you right back together again. 

“Senpai, I-I didn’t know what to do.” You wail out. “I was scared that that night at the hotel didn’t matter to you, and I was embarrassed of how I acted then, and I applied to transfer to the Kyoto office ages ago, and when they finally approved it, I didn’t know if it would be smart to pull back my request. I’m sorry, Kuroo-senpai. Please don’t be mad at me.” 

He leans down, pressing his forehead against your own. “Not mad, baby. I was just a bit upset, that’s all.” He rests a hand against your hip, toying with the waistband of your skirt. “You shouldn’t have been embarrassed, though.”

“R-really?”

He nods. “Yeah. I fuckin’ love my little kouhai’s reactions. You shouldn’t be embarrassed around me.” He looks you in the eyes, tugging down your skirt and enjoying the hitch in your breath. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I was hurt.”

“I’m sorry!” You squeak out again, and he sighs. 

“If you’re really sorry, you’ll show me.” 

Apparently, the proper way to show him you’re sorry is to get down on your knees, ignoring the cold tile of the closet, and to unbuckle his belt, pull down the zipper of his slacks, and tug at his briefs in order to free his cock. He’s already hard, the tip of his cock an angry red with pearly white droplets of precum already gathering at the head. You shouldn’t be nervous; you had the full length of his dick inside of your pussy, but somehow, the task of taking him down your throat seems rather daunting. 

“C’mon, [Name]. Is my little kouhai getting shy again?” Kuroo teases, gently nudging his cock against your parted lips. Your tongue reflexively comes out, and before you realize it, your giving tiny kitten licks, getting your first taste of salty precum. You must make a face, because he laughs, before carding his fingers through the locks of your hair and suddenly, very suddenly, pushes you forward. 

He isn’t rough, but the presence and pressure of his hand is firm. He doesn’t push you down any further, but the first few inches of his cock is now resting against your tongue, and he’s savoring the warmth of your mouth, groaning as he feels the vibrations of you mumbling something in surprise. 

“Mm, this is a good starting point for an apology, don’t you think?” He muses, knowing that in your current position, you can’t really reply back. “Such a good kouhai for me. What am I gonna do when you move to Kyoto?”

His voice gets a bit huskier as he forces you to take more of his length into your mouth. When he starts thrusting gently, slowly getting you used to the feeling of him fucking your mouth, he lets out a groan. “So good, baby, so good. Do you normally let your senpais fuck your mouth like this?”

You mumble something, finding enough room to shake your head. 

“No?” He says, picking up his face. Every time he thrusts back in, he hits the back of your throat a bit harder, forces more of his length in. “You’re so good at taking my dick right now, though. Don’t tell me that this is your first time?” He looks down at you, eyes lighting up and a smile brightening his expression. “This is your first time sucking off a cock? Of letting someone fuck you like this?” He laughs, the sound full of genuine joy. 

“You’re the fucking best.” He tells you, before tightening his grip in your hair and pushing you down onto his cock. This is the only warning he gives you before you feel spurts of hot cum flooding into your mouth, and your eyes widen in surprise at the sheer amount that’s being poured into you. He lets out a little groan, tilting his own head back in pleasure as he keeps your head pushed down. The stimulation from you gagging around his girth only prolongs his climax, and you still can’t find relief when he pulls out of your mouth because he’s instantly demanding you open up and show him what a mess he made inside of you. 

You whimper, giving into your senpai’s request. You open up wide, sticking out your tongue to reveal the thick globs of white cum coating the appendage. Fuck, just the sight of you all submissive, on your knees, teary eyed and ready to please, mouth full of his cum… It’s enough to get him hard again. 

“You’re the best kouhai in the world.” He hums, patting your head, and you swallow up his praise just like you do his cum. 

[mygnolia]

it’s cupid, stupid! | lhs

୨୧ SYNOPSIS -›  To hell with Lee Heeseung, you couldn't find someone you hated more than the boy who's by your side no matter what. You figured that maybe the summer before university would be the best way to finally let go of him, and to leave the hate you have in your childhood- but no. What do you mean you have to spend ALL summer with him?

୨୧ PAIR  -› golden boy!heeseung x fem-pres!reader

୨୧ GENRE -› fluff, pining, hurt/angst, slow burn (oops), bakery au, summer au, post highschool au | ୨୧ TROPES -› (slightly one sided) enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers | ୨୧ WC -› 20k (jfc)

୨୧ INCLUDES -› CURSING, food mentions, a self indulgent characterization of my grandmother but she’s also everyone else’s in this fic, the bakery has foods from like 40 different cultures, both mc and hee get burned but it’s tiny, heeseung’s parents r lowk overachieving assholes this is NOT a reflection of anyone irl, ew so much banter, heeseung and mc drink from the same straw ik that’s an ick for some LOL, underaged alcohol consumption (and being drunk)…sorry

୨୧ REN SAYS... thank u thank u thank u peng aka @jlheon for beta reading this in one sitting for me!!! your comments were so cute i'm so glad you enjoyed reading it <3

plsplsplspls reblog and send feedback/asks if you liked this!

Lee Heeseung might only have eleven characters to his name, but they spelt trouble in forty different ways. 

It starts with the same old Lee Heeseung spilling his applesauce on you in the first grade, with his cup of mushy lukewarm grossness splattered across your new pants with glittery stars on them. You shriek when it happens, frantically wiping off the mess and yelling at his Lightning McQueen lunchbox with all of the bottled up rage a six year old can have. His eyes are wide, but all his friends laugh and say girls are so angry all the time, so he stops himself from apologizing. Which, you think his friends were being a little rude to all girls alike, but what mattered was that Lee Heeseung never ended up saying sorry. 

But that’s just one way of spelling it. He hit you in the face with a ball, ran into you when your knee was scraped and you almost were bursting into tears, and tripped you in the lunch line. 

Did the universe hate you, or did he? 

You figured it was the latter.

Heeseung’s been stuck to you your entire life with some extra strong adhesive that you can’t seem to get off. You wish you could get some of the same glue that stuck you two to the hip and attach his tongue to the nearest streetlight, but things almost never worked in your favor. If you could catch him, just once, like one of the dumb boys who lick frozen poles in winter, you’d be satisfied. 

The blackmail would trump any sort of Heeseung related adversity your elementary grade self had to deal with. 

Unfortunately, the years have rendered you no protection against him, and in the small victories you find yourself in, you also see Heeseung right next to you. The exam you aced was topped by Heeseung with a 98%, just a bit higher than your 96%, and it couldn’t even feel good to talk about it because you knew all your friends talked about was how he did the best. Better than you. 

There was no accomplishment anymore when Heeseung was around. 

Heeseung was perfect in everyone’s eyes, a golden boy in their praises and a role model for their parents. If people didn’t want to be with Lee Heeseung, people wanted to be Lee Heeseung. That? That was something you hated. How could people want to be someone who you couldn’t stand?

Summer is a new slate- a very humid new beginning for you to get away from people at school and hang out with only your closest of friends and to ghost any new message you get. That is, if you choose to. Or, you could have an objectively more “hot girl summer” where you go to pools and post pictures on social media and talk about strangers on the internet. Unfortunately, none of those things seemed to be a viable option, with your friends in different countries and in cute swimsuits. Your visits to your grandmother had been so pushed back with all of the finals on top of exams and end of the year festivities that it had been a while since you last saw her. Spending time with her this summer was your number one priority- your friends could wait a few weeks to hang out again. 

You spend your first Saturday at her house making pastries with oddly reminiscent spices and a sprinkle of your childhood within every slice. If there’s one person you can trust to stay the same, it’s your dear grandma, with her decade old recipes and hard to find ingredients that she sometimes makes you go on a manhunt for. It’s endearing in a way to know that her cooking will never change, and maybe it’s the reason you make an effort to visit when you can. You love your grandma, and you always have, because she’s the only true constant in a world that’s constantly changing. 

You’ve made a feast by the time the sun barely peeks from the edge of the ground. You’ve measured countless spoons of sauces and powdery substances that all look the same and you're surprised the sauce you burned still tastes good. She’s finished setting up the table, and you two can finally dig into your favorite authentic cooking. Even if you see her quite frequently, she doesn’t always cook. Sometimes it’s leftovers, sometimes it’s take-out. But today was different. 

After you’ve both finished, your grandma hands you plastic wrapped dishes filled with mere fractions of what you two have made. She tells you to go to the Lee’s down the road, and your eyes narrow slightly. Lee is also the last name of Heeseung. So, what would be the odds it was him? 

Not likely. Heeseung would think he’s too cool to live in an area like this. His parents are probably minted- and if not loaded, then well off. 

Well, you were 100% wrong! Lee Heeseung does seem to live here, and you will admit the porcelain figures of calico cats in the dark as shapeless silhouettes were a little frightening at first. Your grandma washed away your previous concerns with a “Of course they’ll be home! Heeseung always answers the door for me.” and pushes you out of the house to deliver the two boxes of leftovers that smell delectable. If you weren’t so full, you’d just take a different route and have it for yourself. 

You can hear the ‘it’s our neighbor!’ And a pair of footsteps tumbling down the carpeted stairs to answer the doorbell. 

Lee fucking Heeseung in his sock and pajama clad glory. How punchable he looked in this very moment, with his warm brown dyed hair and white t-shirt. 

“I have leftovers. For your family.” His widened eyes immediately go back to their normal state, and he reaches out to meet your offering halfway. 

“You live here?” He asks, in a calm, civil manner that you don’t think you’ve ever seen with him. 

“Grandma does- I’m just her errand…runner.” You respond, in a not so smooth way. You wince internally at how choppy your words come out, but make no further effort to fix it. By now, it’s Heeseung who’s holding the styrofoam boxes. Your job is done. “Do you live here?” 

He nods solemnly, a smile filled with a smidgen of pride dusted across his features. He loves this house- Heeseung’s been in it his entire life, and it’s obvious the memories that have stayed with him since childhood make him far from ashamed to say it’s where he’s grown up all these years. But you? Could you say the same thing about the simple abode you went home to everyday? 

Maybe not. Another reason why Heeseung had it perfect, and another reason to resent him. 

You sighed to ease the tension that had condensed between the two of you. His mom wondered what took him so long, and he wondered the same question. 

Before you’re about to turn away, he blurts, “Thanks for the food.” You turn around, nodding a silent ‘of course,’ and walking away. 

At that very moment, there was no reason to hate Lee Heeseung. But as you walked away and back to your house, you hated the calico cats and the gate you entered through the house he went back inside to. 

The nostalgic board game high with your grandma does not last for long. As if the universe needed another reason to hate you, the unfortunate truth was that there was always more in store when you were subjected to a bad day, a bad week, or even a case of bad luck. You come back to the mahogany door to terrible news- your grandmother is sick. You rush out of her house the same day with the names of medicinal cures scribbled on a notecard and an urgency in your step. You buy her enough to last for the next few lifetimes, but it doesn’t matter. Anything healthy you could find in the fresh food aisle, you put in your cart, and when you came home, she was already up and sweeping the cold floors with a cough threatening to overwhelm her. 

Sometimes, you wish she didn’t overwork herself. You gently coerce her into laying on the couch, taking some of the medicine you got with a cup of warm water to ease her throat. She says nothing and you expect nothing in return for the last minute shopping you’ve done, but her eyes hold a sincere thankfulness that you know she will never speak aloud. When she’s retired to her bed, you finish unpacking the groceries and complete the mental task of chores your grandma would’ve exerted herself to finish independently. When you’ve finished, your hands are dry with soap and cleaning products, and your arms ache from the mopping, but the house is clean, and your grandma is sleeping well in the other room. You turn off the tv with one of her shows and switch off the light, heading back to your room and changing out of your clothes. By the time you crawl into your bed and charge your phone, the moon is the last thing you remember seeing before you fall asleep.

Monday comes unexpectedly, despite time still being on its course. You find yourself flipping through the cookbooks that littered the walls in your grandmother’s room, and in turn, the absolute urge to busy yourself in her passions manifested in the impulsive decision to work at her bakery. 

“Could- could I go work in the shop?” 

At first, her rejection was through scowls and furrowed eyebrows wondering why someone like you would want to fill their youthful summer days dusting surfaces with flour and kneading doughs instead of living the dream and swimming in turquoise waters. Her second rejection is easier to register. “I already have Hee helping me.” She states plainly, excusing the idea of two people in one room to run her business. Your nose scrunches up, and the temperature of your blood increases tenfold.

“Heeseung,” she clarifies, with almost too much enthusiasm. “He’s in your grade. Goes to your school, too.” She smiles, brushing a section of hair behind your ear and examining the imperfections on your skin. You frown, the obvious displeasure plastered on your features. It’s not hard to notice you don’t like what she just told you. “You don’t like him?”

“It’s whatever.” You tell her, shrugging away from her gaze and shrinking in on yourself. “I don’t care much for him.” 

What a lie! “It seems like you don’t like him.” She comments.

Of course you don’t like him. Heeseung is stuck up, arrogant, and looks past people like you- people who just aren’t as perfect as him. “I mean, why can’t I help you? Shouldn’t Heeseung….rest for the summer?” 

“It’s fine- he’s helped me out multiple times anyways.” She concludes, closing the book she was reading previously. “I wouldn’t mind you coming down to help, I’m sure 17 year olds like you and Hee can run things by yourself.” You raise an eyebrow at both of your names mentioned, but don’t speak out against her. 

You can run it by yourself, but you won’t, simply because your grandmother seems to have an affinity for some boy you just happen to hate. Plus, if Heeseung messes up, you get all the triple chocolate cake to yourself, so you’ll pray on his downfall until then. 

Wednesday morning is when you head over to the bakery, at a much earlier time than usual. The business doesn’t open until at least an hour later, and you spend the time preparing the mixing stands and covering the sweet rolls to be baked in a light sheen of oil. When the sun shines more vibrantly in the morning sky, and the cars honk at the traffic, a ruffled head of hair enters the building, and you’re very worried that you might’ve forgotten to lock the doors. “Sorry, we’re closed!” You yell out, but Lee Heeseung’s tuft of tinted hair is already in your vicinity. 

“The real question would be why you’re here, Miss _____.” He glances towards you, curiosity glazing his eyes over. You immediately scowl at his slightly teasing tone, one that could feel even condescending if he pushed that boundary just a bit more. Lee Heeseung might objectively be better than you in the eyes of an average high schooler, but frankly, you were just the same, and he had no right to sound that amused when you woke up and came here first. It’s 8:03am, and you already found just one more reason to hate him. 

You roll your eyes, knowing that with your back turned to him, he wouldn’t notice the obvious displeasure. “I can’t help out my grandma?” 

It’s so quiet in the place that you hear him suck on a breath behind you. “She’s your grandma?” 

“Did you not remember when I dropped off the food? Oh right, you probably wouldn’t spend your time on something so…,” you pause, racking your brain for a word you think he would use. “‘insignificant.’” 

Rustling. He takes a bowl and a carton of eggs. “Don’t put words in my mouth. Sorry, it’s just so difficult to believe you’re related to her.” Were you really that detached from your culture, or was Heeseung just mean? 

Lee Heeseung’s words get right under your skin, and it makes you see red. You frown in his direction, disregarding his words and moving on with your day.  “Yeah, my grandma is nice, I just don’t know why she thinks you’re a saint.”

“She thinks I’m a saint?” And you see something for the first time, something that’s akin to stars in his eyes, and the corner of his lips turn in satisfaction. He doesn’t even comment on how you’ve let it slip that you’re jealous of their relationship. 

“Maybe in your dreams.” 

“You just said-“ 

You feel like two cats about the fight behind a dumpster, before the door jingles, and someone walks into your conversation with Heeseung. 

“Sorry, is the shop not-?”

You rush to the counter before Heeseung does, counting it as a mental victory to take the first order. 

“It is! What would you like?” It’s something else you can tell your grandma when you get home- that you’ve been starting off all the work in the bakery, and you’re ‘not sure what Heeseung really does.’

The professionalism masks the irritation on his features, and you would’ve killed to see Lee Heeseung’s frown once more. 

When the customer is done telling you his order, you make sure he gets everything he needs, fully satisfied before the ring of the door is heard once more during his departure. The corner of your lip turns up into a grin, victorious as you childishly tease your co-worker. 

“I’m going to do the most around here, and I don’t need your pretty face getting in the way of things.” 

While he denies the rest, Heeseung doesn’t quite ignore what you said about his features. 

When noon has passed, but the sun still glares down on everyone outside, you work just as hard as the white ceiling fan providing cool air for everyone inside. You work in silence, with a playlist filling the air and adding to the ambience, as you listen to your own music through your headphones. Heeseung works without interacting with you more than what needs to be done, and rarely asks for help. He doesn’t let people down; if anything, he exceeds their expectations, but never yours. It’s been like this since the beginning, and you’re convinced it’s something personal- some wrangle ever since you two learned what cooties were that lasted until now. 

“____,” He starts, turning to you. You glance at him, waiting for the boy to continue. “Can you make the brown sugar milk tea- it’s on the-“ 

“I know where it is.” You snip.

Heeseung makes the right choice (in your opinion) to say nothing as you proceed to grab a cup and open the container of boba pearls. After you’ve taken a few orders, you move to the back of the bakery to pull the tray of matcha sheet cake onto the counter to cool. 

“Have you seen the scissors?” Heeseung asks out of nowhere, startling you from the doorway. 

Reaching for the ones you used to cut the parchment paper with, you hand the pair to him and with a mumbled ‘thank you,’ he makes his leave.

In an odd way, you’re stunned by the silence that follows. A “you suck, _____!” would be more in character for villainous Lee Heeseung than whatever just happened. But you’re way too occupied with the bakery, and go back to cutting squares in the matcha cake. 

It’s the same for the next hour until the rush ends and you get a bit more time to yourselves between orders. Heeseung agrees to wash the dishes and you clean the tables to the sound of your playlist from the speakers. 

“You have good music taste.” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth when he emerges. He wipes his hand on a white towel and you stare at him, utterly puzzled. Where’s the malice? Where’s his snarky comments?

“I’m waiting for you to tell me it’s not as good as yours, or something along those lines.” You deadpan. 

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “I’m not that mean, I can give a compliment or two when I feel like it.” 

“Oh, poor Lee Heeseung only has so much room in his heart to compliment people. How thankful should I be that you spend your daily supply of niceness on me?” You snap, cleaning off the tables. Your chest feels light and you don’t feel as angry as you did this morning, finding your digs to be more playful that serious

Blame it on the lack of sleep.

“I think you should be bowing down to me and only talking when I tell you to.” He jokes, and when you glance up, there’s a semblance of a smile on his face. “Anyways, when are you leaving?”

“Whenever you leave.” You tell him, shrugging. 

“Your grandma said she didn’t want you to stay too late but she also wanted me to take you home, and I think she’d throw a fit if you didn’t. You were dropped off this morning, right?”

“I’d die before getting into a car with you, Lee Heeseung.” 

“If I had to get into a car with you, that’s probably how I’d die.” He responds lightly. You furrow your eyebrows and rack your brain for some sort of retort that hurts Heeseung’s pride, but nothing comes up. 

“My driving skills are very good, I’ll have you know.” 

He jabs, “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“How about, next time you come, you leave with your bumper falling off? Some bad driving, yeah?” 

Heeseung could start feeling dizzy if his eyes continue to roll around in his skull. “Sure, we’ll see what your insurance has to say about that.” 

The aroma of vanilla slips through the air, and momentarily distracts you as you make haste to get it from the ringing oven. Unfortunately, your enthusiasm spills over the rim, and when reaching inside, you feel the burn of the sheet cake as you leave it on the iron rack to cool. Heeseung doesn’t tear his eyes from the way you jump back, squeezing the tender skin between your fingers as you blow on it in puffs. 

“Are you okay? Here-“ He reaches for your hand, but gentle. “Let me see that.” Heeseung soothes the slight pain with his thumb running over the burn, and his breath cooling it down slowly. 

“I’m fine.” You tell him, slowly pulling your finger away. His gaze snaps back up at you, and you feel your disdain for him dwindle ever so slightly. Maybe the Heeseung that rushed to make sure you were okay isn’t so bad. 

“Right. You’ll be fine.” And he doesn’t know if it’s something he tells himself, or if he’s telling you, when he goes to get some ointment. 

“A grad party? With Heeseung? Invited?” 

You can’t see him, but you almost hear Sunoo’s pout from the line. “Yeah, I don’t even know why you two fight anyways.” 

You huff, laying back down on your bed after Sunoo’s confession made you shoot up in surprise. “Have you seen him? He’s the most stuck-up annoying person ever.” 

Your friend hums. “To be honest, I don’t think you really know him.” 

“I know him plenty. And there’s nothing good about him, like, ever!” 

“You barely even talk to him, ____.” The last week proves differently, but you bite your tongue.

“I talk to him enough!” You’d defend yourself until the end of the earth. “He’s just…always around me- not like I even want him to, or he’s always hanging out with my friends, or-“

“Our friends.” 

“Well, not really.” You think hard. “They’re only friends because you and I are friends, so I’m friends with Heeseung in a distant obligatory way. And I need to keep it that way by not coming to this party.” 

“Come on!” Sunoo whines from the phone, and you laugh at his antics. “It’s a grad party, you’ll be too busy talking with everyone else to care anyways.” 

“Well, maybe for a bit.” 

“When’s the next time we’ll even be able to see each other anyways? Considering all of this college stuff.” 

You break his facade. “We’re literally going swimming in two weeks from now.” Sunoo laughs. “No, ____. Swimming is different from eating snacks and playing dumb board games.” 

He’s right, and you admit that it’ll be fun for something once last time. 

Maybe Heeseung won’t even show up. 

The next day at the bakery, you rush to ask him, almost too eager to know his answer. “Are you going to Sunoo’s party?” Please say no please please please-

“Of course. I’m his friend. You weren’t invited, or something?” His tone makes you want to light a fire on his head. 

“I’m his friend, too. I was the first person he talked to about it, so of course I was invited, and of course I’m going.” You say it as if the boy in front of you didn’t make you single handedly question your attendance last night. You say it like your demeanor never faltered, not even once. You say it like Heeseung had no say in the decision.

Because he definitely didn’t.

“I’ll see you there, then.” He smiles at you, a glint of evil in his eyes as he gauges your reaction. You return his scheming grin, frosting a slice of cake before walking out and calling the order number. When Heeseung emerges from the paper white curtains, he sees you engrossed in helping a customer pick out a few of the best options for ‘something not so sweet.’ 

When you’re done, you turn around to take a sip of your iced tea. “Really?” He starts, stirring some milk into a swirling shot of espresso. “The red bean cake is your definition of not too sweet?” Your ear-to-ear smile falls when you hear the off-handed comment from Heeseung, leaning against the counter with his taro milk tea, with close to no sugar. 

“I’m sure if they asked you, they would’ve walked out with a cake that tastes like a sponge.” You retaliate. You do your best not to look so affected, seeing as there were other people in the vicinity. It’s a bakery, you have to keep up the comforting atmosphere. 

“I don’t really think you’re the best person to offer advice for those kinds of things, unfortunately.” His tone snips at your resolve, and with every passing moment you stare at his lips and listen to his words, the more you wish to sew them together. 

“Sure, and they’ll be satisfied with eating basically paper? Your standards are also a little far-fetched.” You busy yourself with cleaning the cups and bowls from this morning, physically turning away from him. 

He walks past you and into the kitchen, but not before saying, “I’m sorry one of us has good taste.” 

You pray to every being that someone keeps Heeseung from speaking another insufferable word. 

Sunoo’s house is as quaint as you remember, and although you don’t find yourself making the resemblance often, it suits him. With one hand occupied with holding a gift, and the other about to press the doorbell, you’re interrupted by an all too familiar voice. 

“I guess you did show up. Sucks to see my dreams didn’t come true.”

“I will throw this at you.” You motion to the neat basket in your hands.

Heeseung sighs dramatically, before continuing in the same feigned tone. “Would be a shame if Sunoo only had one gift from us.” 

“He’d understand.” You turn around to ring the doorbell, and Sunoo emerges, a bright smile on his face. He greets the both of you, and his quick side hug immediately reminds you of why you’re here. 

You will have a good time. And you won’t let any auburn haired boy ruin that. 

Despite being close to Sunoo, you’re not as close to the rest of his friends. He keeps his circle small, only with people he spends time with regularly. Which would be good for any other day, but for today, you feel almost like an outsider. Sunoo’s group of friends greet you all the same, and shower the boy behind you with affection. When you walk towards the kitchen, you catch some more of your mutual friends, and your nerves slowly ease away. You join their ongoing card game, an observer to it all as they yell in success or defeat. 

The group of people playing Taboo suddenly doubles as the six of Sunoo’s friends decide they want in. With the way you move to the floor, you’re so preoccupied with making sure there’s enough space for everyone and that all the cards are there, that you don’t realize where you’re sitting. 

Cross legged, on the ground, next to Lee Heeseung. 

You can’t get up, and you weakly protest against the many thoughts telling you that a game of Taboo with Lee Heeseung would get you so heated that everyone would see steam out of your ears by the end of the first round. 

“You know how to play?” Yuna starts to thumb through the cards, making sure all of them are placed in the right orientation. While the majority of you guys nod, a few of them shake their heads, and it prompts a quick explanation from Ryujin. 

“So, everyone gets a set of cards in a team of 3, and you have to describe it without using the words in the white box below. So for example, if my word is Vanilla, I can’t use the words bean, flavor, ice cream, extract, or chocolate.” She shows everyone the example card, and you all nod your heads. “Okay, now we divide into teams!” You tune out the rest of her words as she divides you all into sections based on where you’re sitting, and it leaves you with a twisting feeling. 

“Blue will be ____, Heeseung, and Jungwon!” 

Truly, was luck ever on your side?

You don’t have time to ponder just how horrible things are going, because Jungwon’s excitedly pulling you two close into a circle to discuss game plans. 

“Okay, just skip the cards you can’t answer, think about references rather than actual descriptions. Guys, the prize is good, Sunoo told me.” And the need to win anything reignites in your eyes, determination being your main motivation. 

Jake, Sunghoon, and Yuna go first, and guess four cards correctly. You feel the excitement coursing through the air like electricity, as everyone’s competitive spirit shows through. 

It’s finally your turn, and you volunteer to be the describer, picking up the cards with anticipation. You share a look with Heeseung and Jungwon, praying they share your wave of telepathy. 

First word- Engine. 

You scan through the words you’re not allowed to use, Jake watching over as your referee in case you slip up. 

“Okay, it’s the thing in the-“ You’re about to say car, but you pause, quickly trying to reevaluate your descriptions. The timer looms, and you feel panic settle in. “The thing that powers the…vroom vroom.” 

In Jungwon’s head, it clicks. “Engine!” You toss the card, reading the next. Egypt? 

“It’s a 3D thing, but it has three sides in north Africa.” 

“Pyramids.” Heeseung answers smoothly. 

You grin unknowingly. “Right-right, okay. Where is it?”

“Egypt.” 

“This is a Jesus related celebration-“ You continue, glancing at the hourglass as the sand slips through.

“Easter!” Jungwon says. “Christmas!” 

“The second one! It’s one of the little things you… put up!” 

“Stockings!” And you shake your head at Jungwon, goading them to think a bit more and guess. You glance up almost sheepishly, at a loss of words and stumbling over thoughts. Heeseung sighs, leaning back before looking at you again. 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” You huff, flicking at the card anxiously. 

“Like what? Like you can’t describe a simple word?” 

“Oh, as if you could-“

“Ornament!” And with that, the timer ends. You glare at Heeseung, hard, and if you were anything like Superman, you really would’ve burned holes through his skull. Thankfully, with Jungwon was your mediator, you don’t say anything snarky back at him, staying silent as the other groups go. 

The first round tension eases as the night carries on. As Jake and Sunghoon score 7 cards in one round, it prompts you, Heeseung, and Jungwon to come together, a jittery feeling as you sip from a can of soda and pray your brain works in tandem with both of them. 

Remembering Heeseung’s your describer, you sink in your seat a little, feeling hopelessness consume your mind- but Jungwon doesn’t let you sulk as he cheers Heeseung on. “Last round!” He says, a sparkle in his eye. The teams are so close, and despite your team having the lowest points by being the last group to go, you know you can score the 6 points needed to beat Ni-ki, Ryujin, and Sunoo. 

The hourglass is flipped, and you hold your breath. 

“Naturally occuring formation,” he says smoothly, glancing at you and Jungwon. “Hot stuff.” 

It clicks. “Volcano!” Jungwon smiles, feeling victory running through his veins. Heeseung’s lip curls up. 

“It’s the saying with too many people, ‘three’s a..” He waits for you both to finish the line. 

“Crowd!” Heeseung and you smile at each other as he continues to rush through the cards, briefly glancing over to the timer. 

He falters slightly, before lighting up. “When you’re excited, you’re on ____ 9.” You finish it quickly, burning holes into the back of his cards before he continues. You have to win. 

“Jungwon, we played this game in 2020 on Discord with the guys!” 

“Among Us.” and you laugh at the references he makes to win.

“____, it’s the 60% thing you like at the bakery.”

Your breath hitches, and you almost forget to answer until you see the way he’s looking at you. 

“Chocolate.” You mumble, and he cracks a grin again, relieved to get it in only four seconds. 

With the way he looks at the words and furrows his eyes, you worry that the sand will slip through the hourglass completely before he can finish explaining the sixth and final word. 

Heeseung chooses to deviate from the normal meaning of the words, and chooses to use a different meaning of it in order to not risk using a word on his unavailable list. “When something is more spicy than you expect, you say it has a little something to it.” 

Your heart is beating wildly, and you’re barely in the same spot as you were when you first started, leaning over and closer to Heeseung’s curly fringe. “Kick!” you yell out, and the room explodes in commotion, carefully counting the tallies under every team name. Yeji sighs as she marks down your final tally, and you stand up, all in a group hug before you even realize it. You watch Heeseung, looking up at the way his eyes are closed and his smile’s wide. The adrenaline keeps you jumping with your partners, unaware of how Sunoo observes the carefree way you cling onto his friend, and the supposed bane of your existence. When you two finally stop cheering at your long awaited victory, you shoot Heeseung a glance, noticing how he’s already looking at you with the same gears turning in his head. Although you’ve created space, he’s zoned out, and you can tell he hasn’t noticed that you two once again make eye contact. It takes a raised eyebrow from you for him to look elsewhere, absentmindedly tonguing the inside of his cheek, feeling almost embarrassed to have been so close. 

There’s a bubbling feeling in your stomach whenever you think about how he remembered- how Lee Heeseung pays attention to the little things. You push it down, because it’s nothing more than what coworkers do for each other. He’s cordial, as always. That’s all it is.

“Didn’t seem like you hated Heeseung much.” Sunoo comments, a smile puffing up his cheeks. You roll your eyes, helping him pick up some of the stray trash from the floor after the party is over. 

“Don’t even!’ You start, debating if you should throw a Dorito in his face. “It’s just for the games, he was literally insufferable every other minute.” 

Sunoo is unfortunately the victim to your back-and-forth, trying for you to see with reason but falling short to your simple petty nature. He fails to see how Heeseung has treated you, but deep down, you see it. You see the occasional stare Heeseung finds himself in with you, the frown on his features or the way he always carries himself  as if he’s somehow better than you. It’s exasperating how easily he surpasses you, and always glances back to make sure you know. The looks he gives you are deceptive, and you basically see his thoughts laid out in front of him before he turns away. You swear to Sunoo that he has it out for you, always trying to boost that inflated ego of his by showing you how much better he is at anything. 

“How are you so sure Heeseung just wants to rub it all in your face? Well, wait.” He pauses, tying a trash bag closed. “Why do you look at him so much that you catch him staring?” 

Oh. You think about it, truly emptying your brain to find a proper answer, but deep down, there was none to be found. 

“I don’t know, Sunoo,” you huff. “He just always looks at me.” 

“Maybe he wants to be friends.” 

Violently shaking your head, you smash in a water bottle, feeling a flash of confusion pass through you. “Why would he want to be friends with me? To show he’s such a nice and caring person?” The boy on the receiving end sighs, slumping to the floor in the kitchen. You stare at him, watching how Sunoo deflates before going to wash his hands in the sink. “You’re insufferable.” He calls out, laughing quietly. 

A frown makes its way onto your features unknowingly, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you truly put yourself in your friend’s shoes. 

Surely, Sunoo sees what you mean, right? There’s just no way Heeseung would want to be friends with you either- it’s not like you treat him any better than he treats you. Plus, Heeseung has had it out for you, always by your side for the best and for the worst times, somehow dampening your mood in both. 

Right?

After a tight hug from Sunoo and your efforts to lift his mood after a long day, you get in your car, a random song from your playlist coursing through the stuffy air. 

There is mutual hatred- well, maybe not hatred, but dislike. A definite dislike between you and some part time bakery employee who also happens to be the worst boy you’ve ever met. 

You’re beginning to think that this feud between you two is a small flame that you’re shoveling piles of wood into, igniting from your own hands. 

You have no idea how to prove it, though. You can’t let yourself look like an idiot by simply being nice to him if he really has it out for you and hates you- or else he’ll get some sort of upper hand. 

Your plan goes like this; You’ll give Lee Heeseung one chance to prove himself as an arrogant and selfish person, and when it happens, it’ll be true solid evidence you have to dislike him. It’ll prove that Lee Heeseung hasn’t changed one bit, and that you were always right in your beliefs. 

You trust the universe will help you out one time, and pray for the best. 

So that’s why, when your grandmother invites you to join her at the Lee’s once again, you agree, finally getting to try not just the leftovers of Mrs. Lee’s delicious galbi recipe. 

And that’s how you're standing in front of his doorstep with a welcome mat under your feet, and a porcelain cat staring up at you from the porch. 

You hear the commotion that follows your knock, and you're greeted with a warm smile from whom you can only assume is Heeseung’s mother. After she invites you in, you meet the rest of the family, and make sure your grandmother has taken a seat. Heeseung glances at you from the stairs, before wordlessly joining the table, quickly grabbing bowls in the kitchen before coming to sit down. Everyone interacts, and you’re stuck smiling and shaking hands with his father and bowing to his grandmother, asking if there’s anything you can do to help. 

When his mother brings the steaming aromatic food over, your eyes light up. “Here, Heeseung, sit next to ____!” 

Your smile drops. 

He takes the empty seat next to you, flashing you a grin. “Long time no see.” You roll your eyes, with the distance between the two of you closer than ever, you lean over to make sure your grandma gets plenty of cabbage kim-chi and warm sauces with her rice, helping her whenever necessary. By the time you sit back down, your bowl already is full of food. You glance over at the culprit.

Heeseung just shrugs when you raise an eyebrow, muttering a thank you before digging in. 

“I hear you’re planning to attend the same university as Heeseung.” His mother’s words cause your eyes to widen, choking slightly on your bite before you feel someone’s hand on your back. “You okay, ____?” And the mirth in his eyes tells you he finds your reaction funny.

You shake your head in earnest, feeling yourself lose even more passion for school. She continues, reaching for some grilled meats with her chopsticks. “It’s exciting, isn’t it? You two are basically neighbors, and you’re always super hard working. Maybe Heeseung could learn a thing or two, since I hear so much about how you help out your grandma.”

You’re pleased to hear she likes you, but it all comes out at once, and her confessions leave you in surprise. You glance over at the boy next to you, hoping to gain some wicked satisfaction from it all, but what you see leaves you with a dejected look. Heeseung’s gaze is steely, and you notice the almost glare his mom sends her son after saying it. He feels small, unlike the confidence that surrounds him after test scores or when he got admitted into his colleges. Something doesn’t feel right, and it leaves a sour feeling on your tongue when you try to make yourself bigger than him. 

“Heeseung has always done well. I’m sure he’ll continue to do well both at the bakery and in school.” You don’t mean to disagree with her, but it’s true. You hate to admit it, at least to his face, but Heeseung’s worked just as hard or harder than everyone else. He tilts his head in confusion as to why you’d voice something like that, and you roll your eyes, hoping that he never brings it up again.  

You continue to talk with his mother, laughing at her comments and going along with whatever she has to say, no matter how traditional her views might be. You thank her profusely for the meal, and she waves you off with a bashful look. ‘It’s nothing,’ she communicates through her laughs and small hug when you two are about to leave.

“See!” Your grandma says on the walk back, as you carry tupperware of marinated meats and soup. “Hee isn’t so bad after all.” 

“I guess.” You really have nothing else to tell her, not wanting to ruin the delicate moments between you two as the sun casts down a slim glow. “He didn’t really say much.” 

His mom, however, made you realize just why Heeseung performs at the standard he does- because he really has no choice but to be the best, or to accept failure in front of his parents’ eyes. It’s a corrosive treatment, one that slowly digs away at anyone’s ability to be passionate about truly anything. 

She changes the subject. “How’s the bakery?” 

You want to tell her that Heeseung is annoying, that he runs around always telling you to do things, that he’s always too busy covered in flour and coconut cream to help you out. You want to tell her that you hate Heeseung, and that your quality of life decreases whenever he’s around. He messes with you, sends jokes and digs your way, and you don’t know how to get him out of there faster. 

“Heeseung’s fine. I know he’s a big help to you.” And maybe, he’s become a big help to you, too. 

There is one thing you’re not sure you can perfect- macarons. 

They’re dumb, take so little ingredients yet such precision- and to be honest, do they even taste that good? In your personal opinion, they’re nothing amazing, and honestly, the scraps of chocolate cake that you don’t use for cake pops serves you well. 

The night before, you and Heeseung both mutually agreed to stay for a bit longer, starting on the macarons so neither of you would mess up tomorrow morning in a rush. It’s a large order, and you get them relatively often. You try to get tips from your grandmother the night before that, writing them down in your phone and making sure you listen to every piece of advice she says. You write down the last thing in your notes, ominously typed out in bold text. “don’t overdo it.” it reads, and you stay up watching videos on how other people make them look so perfect. 

Staying late for the shift meant you shifted your routine by a few hours- showering later, eating a bit later, and sleeping less than you should’ve. You were tired already, but the extra work only added to it, making you feel less and less confident in every piped macaron. 

The alarm reads 8:00am, a criminally late hour if you want to get to work on time. Sending a quick apologetic text to your coworker, you rush out of the house, driving as carefully as you can to make it there while scraping as much time off as you can. Rushing in, you see Heeseung, leaning over and assessing your yellow batch. If the grid you used was supposed to be a 5 by 11 sheet, then there should be 55 macarons- but you notice, in a few places, there are missing confections. 

One culprit. “How childish do you have to be to eat the ones I’ve made?” The immediate accusation has Heeseung looking up at you, straightening his back to narrow his eyes. 

“Some of your macarons were hollow shelled.” 

“What, so you go and throw them away without even asking me?”

Heeseung hates how the mood is immediately dampened, finding himself getting more heated around you. “We literally need 25 of each- only four of yours were hollow- I had to start making another batch because I didn’t want to risk mine being hollow, too.” He tries to explain, tapping his fingers on the counter. Your skin feels hot- how dare he mess with the batch you already worked so hard to pipe and fold? If you were to fish out the shells from the trash right now, you would be positive that they weren’t even that empty. You grab one of the tools from near the sink, going to inspect his red ones. 

His attempt to make himself look human is shattered when you notice that none of his, are in fact, hollow like how he presumes they were. 

“You didn’t even check yours!” You exclaim, feeling targeted. 

He rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t even matter who’s batch it was- why do you care so much that I was trying to help you out because you were late today?” 

That- that was your reason. Lee Heeseung once again spelt trouble, by meddling in your macarons when you could’ve so easily examined them yourself. He turns around to start washing the utensils in the sink, as you stand there and seethe. Blame it on the sleep, or on the stress of rushing out this morning, but all of it makes you walk out of the building, feeling the hot tears fill your waterline before they spill and cascade down your skin. 

You worked so hard to make them- and even if they weren’t perfect, even if what he had to say was right, you just wished you could’ve seen it for yourself. You haven’t worked there much prior to the summer, and macarons have always been something you’ve wanted to nail, so to see Heeseung set the standard according to his own feelings and just throw out the ones you wanted to see- well, it hurts. It’s a jab at your pride, at all the effort you’ve put into learning and watching videos, sacrificing sleep to listen to people croak advice after advice on one of the greatest baking feats. It hurts to see once again that you’ve failed to be like Heeseung, and that he took matters into his own hands by assessing your tray for you

Fishing out your phone, you look for one contact to offer comfort. “Grandma?” You ask, sinking down to rest your head on your knees without sitting on the cement. You’re next to your car, not wanting to go through the efforts of finding your keys. 

“What’s wrong?” She asks immediately after hearing your sniffle, and you tell her. You tell her about how your shells were uneven, and how you worked so hard for them, and how Heeseung threw them away before you could even see for yourself. She understands your pain, and tells you that no one can perfect something as difficult as macarons- and that during spring break, she had seen Heeseung go through the same thing. It helps, just a little, to know that he started from the same place as you, too. You calm down with her further reassurance, and wipe your puffy eyes before coming back in. You’re afraid the patrons will notice something’s up, and ignore Heeseung’s worried looks to pat cold water onto your eyelids in hopes of helping them look less red.

He sees all of it- Heeseung Isn't stupid, he knows what he’s done, but he can’t get himself to apologize. And as you knew, he went through the same heartbreaking process, and in his thorough reassessment of the situation, he doesn’t know why he didn’t see it from your perspective until you stormed out. 

‘I'm sorry,’ he writes on the bag of lemon curd he made for your macarons. But it does little to salvage your disposition for today. You ignore him, never asking for any help, or any opinion even in the times you usually would. It’s quiet throughout the whole day, like a gray cloud has dampened the colors in the sky, and you clock out at exactly the right time after everything is done, put away, and cleaned. you refuse to leave a mess for Heeseung to point out, but you leave feeling angry, sad, but mostly, disappointed. 

The next day, you arrive at the bakery to find Heeseung sipping from a dangerously large cup of instant boba and taro milk. His eyes dart up to witness all of your struggling glory carrying a shipment that came to the house instead of the shop. In a hurry, he grabs a few boxes from the top and sets them down on the counter, and whatever you were carrying follows suit. He treats you as if you didn’t fight, as if you two aren’t filling the room with tension the more you steal glances at each other. He grabs his drink, one that he’s prepared 15 minutes ago, and finishes almost another quarter of it in one long sip.

You want to tease him for how much taro he’s had when it’s barely 8 o’clock, but it’s not the right time. Days like this are always slow, only dragged out longer by the silence and lack of tasks. The awkward silence between you two fuels him to grab scissors and start opening the boxes. 

“I thought your grandma might’ve told you I could handle it.” Heeseung comments, refilling the crushed water and oreo toppings. “I was checking the delivery updates pretty often.”

“Not often enough,” you snap. You fight back a glare, and proceed to open up your own box of extracts. “I’m her granddaughter. Maybe you should go enjoy summer with your friends. Don’t you have a beach trip to thirst trap at or something?” It’s meant to be an insult, but Heeseung quietly chuckles, finding it a little funny. 

“Yes, we are having a beach trip soon. But i already told your grandma I’ll work in the morning before your aunt comes to take over.” You frown, wondering why your grandma never reaches out to you and asks you to help.

With emphasis on the syllables in his name, you fire back, “Let’s be clear, Heeseung, she wants my help much more than she needs yours.” He glares, stirring a cup with his eyebrows furrowed and lips curled down in distaste. 

“I’m sure that’s why she was so enthusiastic about coming over to our house and talking to me.” It’s your turn to scowl, and you’re afraid Heeseung’s comments will only take years off your life and produce wrinkles on your face much quicker. 

“Funnily enough, I heard she didn’t want you working there at all.” You cross your arms to look at him as a way to further your point. 

He responds defensively. “Yeah. as if.” Even the way Heeseung rolls his eyes at you is annoying. “She just wants me around more than you.” 

You can’t feel offended, especially when his tone is so light. It probably isn’t even true- how much your grandmother prefers Lee Heeseung over you, just like anyone else. The feeling burns you and you shrink away from the heat of the sudden fire accompanied by the implications of his words. Heeseung catches on to the sudden shift in your demeanor. 

“Hey, I didn’t mean that.” He tries to apologize, watching you carefully.

The flames leave you angry with his response, feeling once again belittled by him. “Bullshit. Are you glad you’re the favorite for every single person you know?” 

His eyebrows furrow, feeling the bite of your words, and the mood instantly changes. “That’s not what I meant, ____.” 

You roll your eyes. “Of course that’s not what you meant, Heeseung. Of course you’re the one who’s perfect, and I’m simply the one who misinterprets all of it. Of course you have never had a bad intention ever and you are loved by everyone. Why can’t you just go? Do you really have to take one more thing away from me and make it your own?” The years of resentment pile up in the words you throw at him, and the built up wall you’ve created finally shows just why you should despise him so much. “Or was it not your intention to do that either?” 

It’s too early, to be honest, to be fighting like this, and you’re definitely saying things that you’re going to regret. But you’re tired of being second to him- tired of never getting the recognition you so badly deserved from those who you actually wanted to hear it from. You’re tired of never being heard by your teachers, getting grades that swoop right under a certain someone’s. All on purpose. (right?)

Despite the sudden urge to bicker with you about how you think everything is about you, and how you’ve never given him a chance, the boy beside you is observant to how hurt you sound being so vulnerable. Heeseung finds himself trying to rethink the past ten years of shared childhood experiences. He’s never really thought about what he’s done to deserve such resentment from you, but the more he says silent, the more he realizes that he’s always so graciously soaked up praise from everyone, and because of it, you were always left sulking in his shadow. 

“I’m sorry.” But it’s more than that. 

You feel stupid for expecting anything deeper. “Is that all you have to-“

He cuts you off, trying to articulate the words and form reason. “No, there’s more. God- let me just think.” You hear how badly he needs to get it out, and you stay quiet, having let all of your anger out already. 

“I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m not going to apologize for all of the things I’ve achieved,” he says firmly. “Because that’s never how things were for me- I have no reason to feel bad about what I did.” And you can respect him for standing his ground in a situation full of misunderstanding. “I never did it to hurt you, and I never did it to get in your face and show I was better. But I’m sorry for hurting you unintentionally. I’m sorry I never realized that those things were just as important to you, and I’m sorry for always assuming the worst when we’d talk. I’m sorry I never apologized, and held all of this against you, and made this thing between us worse than it was supposed to be. And, I’m sorry, too, about the macarons. That was stupid. I really should’ve known.”

You feel overwhelmed, your mind trying to undo the years of built up feelings towards him under the assumption that he meant to do those things. “I thought you did it because you genuinely didn’t want to see me happy. Like that time you did the extra credit in biology just so you could score better than me.” You breathe, words coming out without really realizing what you’re saying. “Or like that time in first grade where you spilled your applesauce on me, and never apologized. I kept thinking, what the fuck did I do to deserve it? What had I done to make you feel like we had to compete?” Your open ended questions continue to resonate within your co-worker’s mind, and the more you ramble, the more he sees just how twisted he looks. 

“In first grade, that was because the boys said I’d get cooties if I went to talk to you. Believe me, ____, I tried. But every single time I try to fix things between us, you never let me, I swear.” 

It’s your turn to be confused, swearing that you never saw him apologize. “When have you ever tried to be nice to me?” 

“I tried to let stuff go. Like all the little things we’d say about each other- I tried to understand why you were always so unhappy around me. But you always said I was meddling in your business or that I just wanted to find another way to get under your skin.” 

It settles, then, the realization that you’ve turned him into the villain a bit more than you should’ve. You know there’s always been mutual dislike- there are certain times where you know Heeseung had it out for you, with his sneers, his comments or the way he’d smile at your defeat- but you weren’t a saint either. There were other times that maybe, he wasn’t out to get you, but you were always so consumed with the idea of hating Lee Heeseung that you hated the idea of him being a decent person, too. 

“I’m sorry,” You say, leaving your emotions to witness. “I really should’ve paid attention to your genuine efforts back then, too.”

And you’re not the only one who’s at a loss for words this time. Heeseung is in uncharted territory, unsure of how to process the way you’re apologizing, and being so open. And he’s antagonized you too; made you out to be a mood killer and party pooper in every event imaginable, despising the idea of being around you because you two always disagree somehow. 

“But, why do you do it? Why do you come here if it’s really anything personal?” 

He answers in the only way he sees fit. “I want to help her out, she’s always cooked for our family, she’s let me come over a few times, just little things for my family and I. I never meant to take your grandma away from you like that, I promise. She’s just so kind, and she cares so much about me, so of course I want to care for her, too. I just didn’t think it’d be at the expense of you.”

Despite still feeling hurt, you nod, trying to be mature and talking about it rather than burying it deep. “All I hear about is how she wants you to come, and how she never needs my help anymore because she has you already volunteering. It’s like I barely mean anything to her.” Your words sting for Heeseung, but not because there’s any anger directed at him. Heeseung feels a pang of relatability in his chest, the inability to ever be enough for those around you gnawing away at your self-esteem. 

He shakes his head, begging you silently to understand. “She doesn’t want you to work so hard.” He starts, running a hand through his hair. “She tells me about how she’s worried if you’re eating, or if you’re stressed. She’s watched you through-out your whole life, ____. All she’s ever wanted was for you to finally enjoy the summer you worked so hard for.”

“I just wish it felt that way.” You admit.

To hear such high praise from his lips feels foreign- the idea of Lee Heeseung noticing how hard you’ve worked, realizing the amount of effort you’ve put into your standing and accomplishments, it’s weird. You know he understands completely how stressful it’s all been, considering he was stuck to your side the whole time in highschool whether you liked it or not. Lee Heeseung has worked hard, if not harder, than you, and for him to be able to admit that is so much different than what your perception of him would think. It’s awkward to meet his gaze, and his small smile eases the tension a little when you laugh at his attempt to soothe things out. 

“I feel dumb, for thinking so horribly of you. I honestly never thought you looked at me like I was an equal, just someone you could surpass.” He shakes his head, about to reach out and grab your wrist before he realizes just how intimate it would be. 

“You’re not dumb, _____. You never have been. I’ve always looked up to you.” 

There are knots in your chest- the ones that make it feel as tight and hard to breathe as you do right now- that slowly become untangled the more he speaks of you. His words undo them, little by little, and even if it takes a long time to fix the rift between you two, at least you know you have help. 

Internally, your heart begs you to ask. “Why do you even care?” 

He pauses, mulling over his words, and looking for a proper response. “I don’t know.” He sighs. “I just want to, we’ve been around each other since we were kids, and if there was someone who I’d hope to have by my side, whether or not we’re close, it was you.” 

Your breath hitches at his confession, and your mind runs in a hundred different directions, without ever expecting those words to tumble from his lips. You promise yourself to do things differently from now on, not trusting your words to continue the conversation. 

“We should finish unpacking.” And the rest is that. 

When you two leave to go home, the old tension feels different- lighter, almost. As much as you know he would do things to get on your nerves, never understanding just why you were so negative and brooding around him, your perception of him wasn’t the best, either. And still, you may be a bit mad at him, and not exactly friendly, but at least you’ve both let go of the unspoken baggage.  

When you sit in the passenger seat, you’re less inclined to turn away and face the window, and make small talk with the radio on. 

Things aren’t perfect- the years of hurt he’s done to you doesn’t dissipate in a day, but it’s getting better, and you can only hope it continues that way. 

A week passes between the two of you, and time flows easier now that you two talked things out. You don’t dread going to work, and you didn’t refuse when he offered to buy food on the way home a few days ago. Sure, some topics between you two are sore, and you’re not best of friends, but it’s light years ahead of what it was like before. 

You can never truly get rid of the banter between you two- there are clever insults you’ve crafted in your head that you love to see his reaction to, and you’re just the right person for Heeseung to bicker with. 

“Do you ever stop drinking that soy milk?” Your coworker asks. You nurse your cup, keeping it close as you rush to defend your end of shift drink. “You’re like, a baby.”

“It’s lactose free. And a very good basic drink.” You explain, frowning at yet another large cup of taro tea he holds in his hands. “Your drink probably tastes like nothing.” 

He holds it out, and you raise an eyebrow. “Just use the same straw,” he insists. You truly don’t mind, but it’s so weird now to know that Heeseung, like, your friend. But you take a sip anyways, cringing at how your suspicions were right- There’s barely a hint of sweetness in there. 

“Don’t make that face!” He comments when you grimace, and also feels the need to protect his opinion on 15% sweet options. 

“Anyways,” you change the subject, determined to get him to see your sweet tooth ways. “Help me make some creme brûlée for my grandma. I’ve never tried.” And he sets his cup down, and for the first time possibly, Heeseung joins you to do something. 

“It should be easy, right?” He says, and with a look of determination, you set off. 

“Heat the cream.” You tell him, reading the instructions from your phone. 

He retorts lightly, “So rude.” and you turn around to scoff, all in good fun. 

“You’re insufferable.” And he tilts his head, offering you a small pouty smile when he turns on the stove. 

The mood feels so much less stuffy than it did before when he says, “Must suck to always hate me like how you do.” 

“I have an egg yolk in my hand that i’m willing to throw at you.” He chuckles, and peers over at your bowl. 

“You’re pretty good at that.” He notes, and you fight the urge to beam at his compliment for your yolk-separation skills. After he’s poured in enough cream, he grabs the sugar and a measuring spoon, fishing your phone out from beside you and reading the measurements. 

He adds so much less than what the recipe says, and you only know this because when you glance over, the scale reads a number much lower than 65 grams. 

“Heeseung,” You call out, in a playfully stern manner, and the boy in question turns around like he’s been caught. “Bring back the sugar.” 

“We’ve run out.” He says, the lie appearing as a wide smile on his face. Unconvinced, you walk over, and in turn, he holds the jar up out of your reach. You refuse to reach for it, knowing that the boy in front of you is much taller, but also that you don’t want to break the glass with some horseplay.

Your voice goes from demanding to reasoning. “Give it back. God, I can’t stand you and all of your low sugar preferences. The sugar is literally needed for the texture!” He simply shakes his head, walking over to add just one more unmeasured spoonful. “You didn’t even weigh it.” 

Heeseung mocks you- a high-pitched and garbled version that follows the intonation of your words, and you let out a surprised scoff at his immaturity. Getting a whisk, you make sure the newly added sugar is fully dissolved. He returns with the pot of cream that bubbles slowly, with an oven mitt around the hot handle. Without a look in your direction, Heeseung holds out his arm between you and the heated cream, and it really doesn’t do much- but yet, at the same time, it does. It’s something he does subconsciously; and something you do your best not to pay attention to in order to properly reach for the whisk.

He slaps your hand away lightly, and you mumble an ‘ow!’ in response. “Don’t touch that. Let me whisk it. It’s hot.” He reprimands gently.

Yeah, you’re still doing your best not to pay attention to it. 

When the mixture transforms from a deep yellow to a pale banana color, he leans down and checks the side of the bowl for any egg and sugar he’s missed. “Here,” you reach out. “Let me get the pot.” Heeseung glances up, and shakes his head quickly.

“No it’s okay-“ and it happens quickly, the hand that was whisking leaves to swat your hand away, but it instead makes contact with the rim of the metal appliance when he doesn’t pay attention to where his hand is placed. Although Heeseung only hisses quietly at the pain, you immediately feel bad. 

“Just give it to me,” you demand, and pry the pot out of his hand to let him nurse his wound, leaving it in the sink and quickly going to the medicine cabinet for burn relief cream- the same one you used a few weeks ago. After you grab it, you return to him, reaching out your hand and waiting for him to show you the puffy red skin. 

He slowly puts his hand on your palm, and you twist around his finger to apply the ointment, doing your best to spread it without pressing too hard. 

“Thank you.” 

You glare. “Don’t hold hot things if you’re not fully attending to them.” And he puts his hands up in surrender, taking a step back. 

“I’ll be preparing your ramekins, boss.” The nickname has a nice ring to it. 

When it’s done, the creme brûlée comes out with a slight wobble in the middle, indicating a well-cooked perfection. “Grab the blowtorch!” You shove him into the direction of where it is, and he complies. You sprinkle sugar over five of the six dishes, using a spoon to shape the sugar in the last dish into a heart since you thought it looks cute. 

Heeseung comes back from your right, leaning over to watch you intently. “A heart? You make it seem like you’re in love, or something.” He jokes, evading a jab with your right elbow. 

“Shut up.” 

“You shut up.”

“You argue like a-“ you’re about to finish your sentence with ‘child,’ but when you turn your head (in hopes that saying it directly would add more emphasis), you’re face to face with Heeseung, with a proximity between you two that’s far less than expected. 

He takes a quick step away, and you glance somewhere else with a nervousness in your eye. 

Neither of you say anything, not really sure if you should apologize or if he should, and you return to your current task, a small churning turning in your stomach. You take a step back to let him caramelize the sugar, and he holds the blowtorch with his non-burned hand. 

It’s good, is the only thing you think when you crack the sugar and scoop a bit, admiring the texture. When you and Heeseung finished one each, you begin to clean up and wash the equipment you used. 

“It’s late, _____. I’ll take you home.” He states the obvious, and for what?

“How else am I supposed to get back?” You laugh, and in response, he shrugs. 

“Just a reminder as to which one of us is so graciously kind to drive you too and from the bakery almost everyday.”

“If I had a choice, I could’ve easily taken my own car. You know my grandma needs it for her errands. Like her Wednesday bingo night, or whatever.” He chuckles, holding the door open and unlocking the car. 

Being in the same space as Lee Heeseung isn’t as excruciating as how it used to be- and now, it’s just an opportunity for you to finally ask your burning questions. 

“Heeseung, I’m just curious. How did you even meet my grandma?” 

He furrows his eyebrows. “I think it was the mailbox,” he starts, trying to remember. “She dropped her mail, and it blew out into the street, so I went to get it for her. And on the walk back, she just started asking me questions. Apparently she and my mom were closer than I thought.”

“And that’s how you started working?” 

“First, it was community service. Just using the cash register- since we’re cashless, it’s nothing illegal to have me manage orders.”

“And she just thought you were an angel from the get-go, or something?” 

“Who doesn’t?” And you glare, mocking him like what he did to you earlier. Heeseung’s lips curl into a grin at your antics, never taking it to heart. 

“Me, obviously.” And it’s a half-lie, because secretly, Heeseung isn’t so bad. 

“Well,” he starts, motioning. “I don’t think there’s anything I do or could do that you’d like.” 

You splutter, “That’s not true!” And he raises an eyebrow at your indignant words. 

“Name one thing that you like about me.” 

“No!” You refuse, crossing your arms. “You already have a large enough ego from the teachers.” 

Heeseung rolls his eyes at you, tapping his hands tapping on the wheel impatiently. “That’s lame, ____. You’re just further proving my point.” 

With a sigh, you tell him, “I like how you helped us win in Taboo.” And he gives you a look. 

“Cop-out.” 

“What-? No!” Emptying your brain, you try to find something you truly like about the boy who makes life a living hell- or, well, used to (he still kind of does). “Okay, fine. I like that you care about my grandma.” 

Heeseung stays kind of quiet, not really sure what to do now that you’re once again being sincere. “Well, she’s like- the only person who doesn’t expect something from me.” 

Confusion floods your thoughts. “What do you mean?”

“I’m grateful for everyone in my life,” He prefaces. “But it’s no fun having to always work for people’s approval, sometimes, I wish that someone could just appreciate me for me, and that’s how your grandma is. No expectations with her. She’s just happy I’m still around- which, I know, is bare minimum, but at least I don’t have to try so hard for her to like me.” The light turns green, and the car rumbles as he slowly accelerates.

You mull over his confession. “Do I expect something from you then, too?”

“You expect me to perform well, because I always have- and therefore, I have to do well, or else you’ll just rub it in my face.” He states plainly, and you grimace for the second time today. 

“Sorry, I won’t do that anymore.” Heeseung waves you off. 

“It’s no big deal- plus, you weren’t the only one who thought I’d do well all the time. It’s something everyone thought of me. If anything, you were the one who just motivated me to always work harder.” 

“But isn’t that a good thing? To be the best?” 

He shakes his head and when you take a good look at him, Heeseung has a glassy look in his eye. “Sometimes, yes. A lot of the time, no. I just want to do well without anyone forcing that on to me. I don’t want the expectation to be perfect, because then, it’s so much easier for me to stumble.” You don’t realize just how much weight Heeseung carries on his back from the words of his peers and his family. And to you, he resembles a diamond; perfect, but from pressure. 

“Well, from now on, I won’t expect it from you. And if I do better, then I won’t rub it in your face. So that’ll make two people you won’t have to worry about.” The response he gives you is non-verbal, but his change in expression is first laced with surprise, and then silent appreciation.

“Thanks,” he says, once again at a loss for words. “I appreciate it.” 

You send Heeseung a smile, understanding how it feels to always have to do good. You can only hope that he gets his break from the pressure before he burns out. 

“Oh, I should tell you now. I can’t make it next Friday. I have plans, and I’d figure I’d let you know now so you could find someone to replace me.” He announces. When he looks over to see your response, you nod in understanding.

“What are you doing?” 

“Grad party.” Heeseung says plainly. “It’s Jake’s, so if I’m hungover, I’ll try to let you know if I’ll be good by morning.” 

“So considerate.” You comment, albeit a bit teasing. He scoffs, making the final turn before reaching your house. “To be expected from someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” He questions. “And what kind of person am I?”

“Someone who’s going to have to work alone for the next two weeks if he doesn’t shut up.” He laughs, his eyes scrunching up as unlocks the car. “Thanks for the ride.” 

“Of course, ____.”

A few days go by, but one morning, you walk outside to see Heeseung parked in his car, scrolling on his phone- and it takes you walking up to him to roll the window down. 

“You didn’t even text me you were coming,” you start, pouting slightly. 

Heeseung pats the passenger side. “Just- get in, will you?” And you comply, never one to refuse a free trip to work. 

“So why today?” You ask, fiddling with your fingers and bag. “You usually never pick me up on Thursdays.”

“Since it’s your grandma’s birthday and all, I figured I could just pick you up, and drop you off. She called me yesterday asking to come over, and invite my parents, too. And they couldn’t come because of a work trip, but I promised her.” 

You stay silent. “Fuck, that’s today?” And Heeseung laughs- not at you, just at the situation. 

He nods, eyes still glued to the road. “Have you decided what you want to get her?”

“Flowers, definitely. Probably these treats she’s been thinking about getting from the store. I have this really nice collection of kitchen appliances that I know she’ll like.” And you’re rambling, but Heeseung makes no effort to stop you. “She loves to peel stuff by hand, but I was trying this thing out in the store and it actually works perfectly. Here, I’ll pull it up.” And he takes a quick look at the overpriced appliance, realizing that you also care immensely, but in different ways. “I still need to get her stuff, though- I’m not sure how I’m supposed to get to the flower shop if they close when we close.” And it leaves you dejected, since you know what flowers are her favorite, and how happy she’d be if she saw them on the table for a while. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Heeseung promises, and you nod, believing his words. 

You close a bit earlier than usual, and Heeseung writes on a small sticky note for patrons to come tomorrow. The bakery closes at 8:00 PM everyday, and usually 30 minutes can’t hurt- or at least, you hope it doesn’t. 

When you continue to anxiously check the clock, he comes to your side, rubbing your shoulder and telling you that “30 minutes is plenty of time.” 

“We have to walk there though, and clean up. There’s virtually no parking there ever since that other place opened up nearby.” And he curses, not taking something like that into consideration. While you might be ending earlier, you can’t just leave anything out in fear that someone’s going to try and break in, but you also don’t have nearly enough time to properly wash the dishes and wipe down the tables and counters. Instead, you both opt for putting away the large equipment and the food, turning off the lights so anyone who looks in gets the impression it’s closed with the lack of displays or people around. Then, you two can come back to finish organizing and preparing for tomorrow. 

His reassurance is easy to listen to, and Heeseung’s ability to figure out a plan is comforting in and of itself. You’re grateful he’s even willing to come with. 

“You can just wait in the car, really-“ 

Heeseung looks at you like you’re mad. “We talked about this,” he pressed. “It’s dangerous to go out alone. I have nothing to do in the car anyways.”

Finally, you shut off the lights and start dragging Heeseung’s arm, who’s still taking the key out of the lock as he’s being taken away by your impatience. Setting off in a brisk walk, you continue to check your phone, trying to beat time. Heeseung promises you once more that it’ll be okay, and you ask him what he got for your grandma to change the conversation. You both know her well, and your gifts reflect what qualities you care for most. You realize that Heeseung always keeps others in the back of his mind- like his thoughtful gift to Sunoo, with a handwritten card that Sunoo read a bit of to you guys before Heeseung stopped the further embarrassment. You didn’t realize it then, but the people in his life feel wanted all the time because he has the love to give them. 

You get there barely five minutes before 8:00 PM, and the discontent that washes over the shop owner’s face is apparent. “We’re closed,” she says, and you can’t imagine it’s easy to stay by yourself in a room so stuffy and full of pollen. You walk up to her with Heeseung following behind you, observing the way you practically beg for her to let you find some flowers. You promise you won’t take long, and she sighs, unraveling some of the wrapping paper she knows you’ll want. 

There aren’t many left now that the day is over- and you wonder what kind of people frequent the flower shops. Is it apologetic husbands trying to win over their disappointed wives? Is it children buying flowers for their parents and elders? Or is it people like you and Heeseung, who want to gift it to someone they care about?

“Can you trim the thorns?” And she shakes her head, continuing to ring your bouquet up. You feel horrible, understanding exactly how it feels when someone at the bakery asks for something so grandiose near closing, when your social battery has depleted and you don’t have any more smiles to give. And you know this, but you’re willing to go above and beyond if the shop owner is okay with it. The effort she’s put in already to cut the papers and ribbons to accentuate the flowers is already plenty, but it’s your grandma, and you make sure to come back to support her generously again. 

“Please,” you exhale, desperation and anger mixing in your tone. “I’ll pay extra.” With that, the shop owner sighs, taking your forty dollars and looking up as she opens the cash register. “Just keep it.” You say, in apology for earlier. She doesn’t decline the offer, and slides the crumpled bill into the slot with the rest of them, and ties a purple ribbon around the bouquet. 

You almost forget that he watches the whole ordeal, until the owner of the flower shop mutters a “couples these days” under her breath, and your eyes widen.

With profuse thanks, you grab the neatly wrapped flowers and leave, but the moment you turn the corner, you gawk. “Did you hear what she said?”

“That we’re a couple?” Heeseung brushes it off like it’s nothing. “Yeah. But- what kind of boyfriend would I be if I wasn’t the one paying for them?” 

Heeseung paying for flowers to give to you- it’s a thought that leaves you quiet as your feet follow the same steps you took to get there. Of course he would- and you wonder if you’d ever want to be on the receiving end of it from him- or, actually, anyone for that matter. You’re not sure your mind automatically wants such a sweet gesture from Lee Heeseung himself.

“Thank you for coming, again.” 

“Quit worrying about bothering me,” and it’s like he can read your mind. “Believe it or not, I don’t mind being around you.” His sarcastic comment still holds that undercurrent of honesty, and it’s like he knows just what you need to hear. 

The walk back is much less stressful than the walk to. It falls back to that simple dynamic between two people who have begun to tolerate each other, full of little insults, hits to the side, and laughing. You finally make it back, and the sun paints the sky with swirling blue and pink. The sunset illuminates Heeseung’s side profile as he unlocks the door again, and when you finally pay attention to his jawline, or the gentle purse of his lips in concentration, you come to the conclusion that Heeseung is more than easy on the eyes. 

And as you two clean up, the flowers sit in the passenger seat; a symbol of care for your grandmother, and Lee Heeseung’s time well spent with you.

The trips with leftovers become more frequent, and his parents always remember who you are every time you come bearing gifts. “____!” They exclaim, returning the old tupperware with more dishes on top. It feels like at this point, your grandma cooks for them, and they cook for her just as much. 

“Go bother Heeseung, won’t you? We have dinner in a moment, but he’s been so busy with his work.” You smile at her, curious as to what he even has to do now that school’s over. “It’s the room to your left when you go up.” 

You knock on his door and he yells in response, telling you to come in. Under the assumption that it’s his family, Heeseung goes wide-eyed when he notices it’s you in his messy room with his pajamas and old t-shirts strewn here and there. 

“I did not expect it to be you,” he mumbles, quickly getting out of his chair to fix his covers and pick up a sock. A laugh bubbles from your throat with the way he’s scrambling to make things presentable right before you. 

“Don’t worry. I don’t think I’ll be staying long anyways. Your mom told me to drag you downstairs because you were too invested in your work.” He looks sheepish as he mumbles a quick apology, and after the quick tidying, he shuts his laptop and organizes his desk. “What do you even have to do anyways?” 

“I’m just making music- I started this internship with an entertainment company where they let me shadow a producer and offer input on some unreleased songs for their artists- so I’m just looking at the tracks and making demos.” 

“They let you do that? I figured shadowing wasn’t possible for a company so big.” He nods, a smile dusting his features, and you can tell he takes pride in what he’s accomplished.

You’re about to ask more, but a call of your names from downstairs leaves you two quickly walking down. 

“Have dinner with us!” His dad tells you, and you want to tell him you already ate a bit, but the noodles look delicious, and you agree to only eat a little bit. You glance over at Heeseung, but he offers a small smile as he pulls out a chair for you. 

And so it begins again, but just without your grandmother. 

“____, what are you planning to do in the future?” Heeseung’s dad starts. 

“I’m planning to study Biology in the fall at uni.” You start. “I had an internship last summer before senior year, and I really learned a lot from it, so I knew what I wanted to do by the time I applied for schools.” His mother praises you, as all Asian mothers do, and you can see why Heeseung is so kind-hearted by the way his parents speak to you. 

The conversation naturally switches from your plans to Heeseung’s, as they talk about his pursuit in music production. 

“I’m sure he’s doing a good job, I’m always in classes with him, and there’s nothing you need to worry about.”

His mother continues, however. “I mean, there’s always ways kids can get ahead. I always tell him to apply for things early, and he could’ve gotten more scholarships and finished his internship last summer if he wasn’t so behind. But he’s doing it now, so there's nothing we can say about it.” Her words rub you the wrong way immensely. While your own parents were never the most involved in your high school academics and were supportive of any career path you chose, they never placed an expectation on you to do the best and overachieve. But you get the sense that for Heeseung, no matter how supportive they were, it was never really good enough. It’s torturous.

But, you don’t really know how to respond, humming to ease the growing silence instead. “That’s always true, but I know a lot of people look up to him, including me. He’s doing great regardless of when he does it.” No matter how gently you put it, you know it’s in total opposition to how they think and feel when it comes to their own son, but you can only hope that it helps ease the tension.

The rest of dinner goes smoothly, with the discussion of your summer and how things have been with friends, parties, and planned trips. You finish their food quickly, complimenting Heeseung’s mother’s cooking once again and watching her face light up. 

“You should head home, we don’t want your grandma to be too worried.” His dad starts, and you agree, quick to grab your bag. Heeseung takes the containers from your hand and starts putting on his sandals. “I’ll walk you home.” Despite your refusal to let him carry your things, he insists, and you miss the way his mom stares fondly at you two from the kitchen island. 

The warm summer air gives you the illusion that it’s not so late, and with the way light still peaks from the horizon, you feel less tired the later the summer nights get. 

The boy next to you speaks up first. “Did you mean it?” You sneak a glance at his relaxed posture, a hand in his sweatpants and bangs on his forehead. 

“What part?” 

“Any part.” 

You nod, feeling almost incredulous that he thought you’d make up something like that after you two agreed to be on good terms.

“Of course, Hee- I wouldn’t lie about that stuff, especially not to your parents.” 

“I’m sorry about them, by the way.” He reaches up to run a hand through his hair. “They have high expectations sometimes, I’m sorry if it’s uncomfortable to hear them talk about me like that so openly.” The first instinct you have is to reach for his shoulder, making eye contact with him and offering a semblance of comfort before you walk across the street. 

“No, you don’t need to apologize for stuff like that. I’m sorry your parents hold you to those kinds of expectations.” 

“It’s okay, I’m used to it.” 

“But the problem is, you shouldn’t have to be used to it. You’ve genuinely done so much and you deserve some recognition rather than someone always telling you to do better.”

It goes quiet, but you don’t choose to bring anything else up, enjoying the crickets chirping and the gentle breeze that carries you home. 

You stop outside your door and unlock it, inviting him in to say hi to your grandmother.

“Thank you,” you tell him as he’s leaving. “For walking me home.” 

Heeseung simply shakes his head. “It was nothing, really. Thank you for seeing my parents again and whatnot.” He smiles, waving at you before walking back, and a grin makes its way onto your face before you even notice it. 

Your phone dings at an hour earlier than you expected to get up, and it leaves you in an annoyed mood while you turn off your alarms.

hee: dude you HAVE to come in we just got a huge order for triple chocolate cake they said they’d pay extra if we finished by today

y/n: help wtf r u doing at the bakery 

hee: i was making brownies i asked ur grandma this morning if i could

y/n: what for…

hee: because i had a craving ??? what else..

y/n: oh LOL ok ill be there in 30

Originally, you and Heeseung were going to have the day off, and your aunt and grandma were going to work instead- but the tempting offer from Heeseung leaves you explaining why you have to come in for work, and that they should stay at home. You say anything that comes to mind, but they know you wouldn’t let them come with the way you were dressed and already grabbing your shoes and keys.

When you finally rush to the doors, you see Heeseung cutting into the chocolate treats, and when you two make eye contact, he shoves the piece in his mouth and nods. 

“Gross.” You comment, laughing. 

He says something intangible, and you shake your head, putting on your apron.

The amount of work you two have put in is simply criminal to be fake, and the day off you have is getting darker the longer you two stay.

You voice your concerns. “Do you think they’re lying about the tip?What they told you seems like much.” 

Heeseung shrugs, and sprinkles sea salt over the piece he picks up. “I’d hope it’s true. They seemed pretty desperate. I called them back today telling them their order would be done soon, so if they show up and pay more, that’d be great.” 

“I’m glad you’re so optimistic.” You laugh. 

“I have to be, because you’re definitely not.” Heeseung laughs when he sees the scowl on your face. 

“Oh yeah? I think I’m at least a little better than the time you spilled the tapioca pearls and then talked about how everyone had it out for you that day.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Between the two of us, I’ll always hear you saying ‘fuck, i dropped the spoon’ more.” His teasing has you smiling. 

“Focus on your lettering. Or do you need someone to hold your hand and help you?” You lean over to look at him spelling CONGRATS with brown icing. “You messed up.” Nitpicking, you point out a random loop and make fun of him for it despite it not looking bad at all. 

“I did not!” He huffs defensively. “I want to see you try.” He passes you the bag, and you get a piece of plastic wrap on the counter before starting. 

“Lee Heeseung sucks.” He reads. “Did you seriously write that?” You laugh at how offended he is, and the boy next to you is quick to pull the bag from your hand to start piping. halfway through the word ‘hate,’ you elbow his side, and it causes his letter ‘t’ to be dragged too far.

“Hey!” He runs over, smearing a bit of icing on your forehead before you duck and try to avoid all his other attacks. The laughs bubble from your stomach, the adrenaline causing you two to chase each other around the kitchen. You’re not even sure what Heeseung would do if he catches you, but you don’t want to find out. 

“I think we should package those cakes!” You remind him, albeit as a distraction. He sighs, crossing his arms in defeat before agreeing and heading back over. You narrowly avoid his glare, a wide smile on your face as you hum in victory. It’s a bit past closing, and he makes sure to flip the sign, still keeping the light on. 

The customer rings the phone, telling Heeseung that she’ll be there in a few minutes. By the time you’ve boxed all three cakes and cleaned up any edges, she walks in. You ring her up at the counter, and she pulls out her largest bills, telling you to take the change as a gift. You two both thank her immensely, making sure she can carry the cakes out to her car before closing for the night. 

When Heeseung enters through the front door, immediately you start cheering. “We just got paid tonight, Hee!” 

The boy grins, subtracting the total from the amount she gave, and it’s clear that she was being serious when she said she would pay extra. “I think this calls for celebration.” 

You don’t really have an excuse to see him outside of work, and the idea of being alone in a non-bakery setting feels scarily new. 

And you’re about to make up an excuse about how you have to be home (you don’t), but your stomach makes a low sound, and it serves as an answer in place of your faltering words. 

“I’m thinking Korean.”

You don’t expect to learn something new about Lee Heeseung, until you see him order two bowls of stir fried ramen despite the restaurant serving much more elegant dishes. 

“Ramen?” A glance at the menu has you reading one of the more expensive meals offered. “You could’ve had- I don’t know, their Honey Garlic Short Ribs.” 

He scrunches his nose in disapproval as a testament to how much he adores his instant noodles. “It’s just not the same. We barely have noodles at home, since my mom always insists on making it from scratch or boiling them in those big packages. Never just ramen.” You take a sip of your water, surprised. 

“You don’t have ramen? God, come over more often, I’ll make you some.” You suggest lightheartedly. 

He glances over, taking you up on the offer. “Woah- me, in your space?” You send him a glare, looking away and ignoring his laughs. 

The food comes relatively quickly, and he looks over what you’ve gotten to judge it. “It looks good. Let me have some.” He says, reaching over with his wooden chopsticks. 

You gasp at his suddenness, quick to refuse and to drag your plate away from him as you pick up a short rib and eat it before he can. The meat tastes wonderfully marinated and tender, and you don’t realize that the haphazard way you tried to eat it left some sauce on your mouth. Heeseung glances over with a frown, about to comment on how incredibly stingy you are until he notices there’s red sauce on your chin, and grabs his tissue. 

“Here.” He says, tapping you on the shoulder. And silently, he wipes it off, to make sure you won’t have to walk around with people seeing and saying anything. 

“Oh- thanks.” It’s pathetic the way your throat dries up, and how you force yourself to drink your water and move on. You hear about this only in movies- about male leads you turn to burns and wax poetic about how much they love you. You don’t expect it to happen so suddenly.

“Is yours any good?” You ask, averting your gaze. His fried eggs and boiled shrimp sit neatly on his stir fried noodles, the presentation better than you could ever make it at home. 

With a shrug, he replies, “We’ll see.” He tries some, and you see a satisfied grin on his features. 

“Is ramen really that good, Hee?” His enthusiastic nods tell you all you need to know as you continue eating, your pile of bones growing ever so slowly. You two make small talk, about his recent beach trip, or about you rafting with your friends. He talks of college- about going away and his fears of growing up. You tell him you’re scared to dorm, since you’ve been around your family for so long, and you share each other’s sentiments about the rapidly approaching adulthood you’ll both have to face. It’s nice like this, not to bicker and to argue and to despise him. It’s nice to just exist around Lee Heeseung, and you wonder why you haven’t done something like this before- sitting next to him and being able to talk freely about the interests and questions you share. 

You guess that it was just the timing- you were both always so stressed from school, unable to properly sit down to sort out your emotions. And yeah- summer is a new slate, and this year feels just a bit more life-changing than the rest of them. 

“You eat so slow.” And you shoot him yet another scowl, picking up some rice. 

“You ordered ramen and you eat like you’ve been starved for three years.” 

“Whatever. I’ll cover the bill?” 

Narrowing your eyes, you try to remember if you two had discussed anything about payments before. “No- I thought we were just going to split the bill.”

He doesn’t seem to care too much. “I’ll pay for you, since I couldn’t have done it without you,” refering to all the baking you did today.  

Exasperated, you refute his horrible reasoning. “I wouldn’t have even found out about her order if you weren’t there. Just let me split it.” You reach out expectantly, and he retracts the receipt, clutching it close. 

“Just pay me back sometime for something else,” and it’s the last thing he says before turning on his heel and leaving you with your agape. 

When you clean up and join him in the car, the first thing you tell him is that he’s ‘annoying,’ and ‘so stubborn it hurts.’ 

Heeseung just laughs at you, telling you it’s nothing special- like he’s used to paying for others. And thinking about how many people come in to ask him for his number or hope for a date, your assumption makes sense- that he does these things for everyone, and you’re not an outlier in any way. 

When the bakery is one chestnut haired boy short, things are much less interesting. 

“Don’t have too much fun without me.” You joke when Heeseung begins to undo his apron. 

“You can come,” He offers with a small yet sincere smile on his face. “I asked, you all know each other anyways.” You feel your heart stir with the way Heeseung keeps you in his thoughts. 

All you do is refuse his offer. “I have to rewatch my rom-coms.” You wave him off, and within minutes, you’re left alone. The quiet music plays and the bell jingles every so often as patrons come for pick-up orders or drinks. Thankfully it was slow for a Friday, and you weren’t rushing around the shop.

There’s a girl who’s around your age who walks in, curious as to who’s taking her order before making eye contact with you emerging from behind the curtain. 

“Where’s the boy you usually work with?” She says, getting a list of what her and her friends wanted. “I’ve been meaning to ask for his number.” 

You can’t lie and say you’re indifferent to her question, but nonetheless, you take her order and give her his phone number saved in his contact. “He’s not dating anyone, so don’t worry.” You tell her, handing over the receipt. She smiles, and your heart tightens a little at the thought of Heeseung. One of you two is well-liked, one out of the two of you is perfect in every way, and it wasn’t you. 

Without any of your usual weekly plans with your friends, the drive home was quiet as you figured out what to do for the weekend. You would feel bad every time your grandma had to take a shift despite her recovering quickly, and despite her being excited to work again. When home, you decide to make dinner, change, clean up around the house, and retreat to your old room. The show you were catching up on until the wee hours of night was interrupted, and a familiar contact flashes on the screen. 

“Heeseung?” You ask, confused. It’s 12:00 AM. 

“____-ie.” The line giggles a bit before you hear some shuffling. “My head hurts.” 

You’re a bit shocked to hear him like this, but you’re not going to hang up on him and leave him confused. “Did you drink too much?” You ask, trying to choose your words carefully. 

“Yeah,” Heeseung responds, sighing. “I lost a bet, _____. And I lost cup pong, too.” He sounds dejected, like a hurt puppy as he elongates his syllables and pauses between thoughts. “I was going to tell you something.” 

“That you can’t come in for work tomorrow? You sound out of it, Heeseung.” 

He groans, and more shuffling comes from his side. “Yeah, but I can’t drive, ____-ie.” You cringe at the nickname, but refuse to say anything about it with the way he’s acting now.  “No one else can take me home, and my parents can’t know.” He sounds stressed, and you’re quick to reassure him before he starts crying. 

“Where are you?” 

“You’ll pick me up?” Heeseung asks, his tone filled with elation. 

“Maybe. Depends on how I feel in the next 10 minutes.” 

“I’ll cover your shifts anytime, I’ll drive you home, I’ll buy food for you, I’ll sneak you out…” He continues to ramble about all the favors he could do for you, and you laugh before getting out of bed.  

“You better mean it.” 

“I want to see you.” You know he just wants to go home, you know he doesn’t mean anything else with his words. You know he just wants to sober up and go to sleep. 

You know it’s nothing more between you two, yet your heart still beats wildly with every minute you drive, the words echoing in your head. 

“I got you water, and some food- I have no idea if you ate or not.” Is the first thing you tell him when he stumbles out of the house and into your car. 

Heeseung’s one drowsy blink away from falling asleep, and you have to shake him away to make sure he doesn’t fall asleep with a hangover. “Hee!” You rush to park on a random sidewalk before unbuckling your seatbelt. 

You brush back his red hair, pushing his curly bangs away and wiping the sweat from his forehead. He slowly blinks, adjusting to the proximity between you two. You shove a water bottle in his hand before getting a tissue to wipe the light sheen off of his skin. 

“What are you doing, hm?” And his voice, rough with exhaustion, has you quiet for a moment as your skin gets hot. 

Despite your heart thrumming faster, you force yourself to answer simply. “You’re going to have a hangover.” 

He opens his water, drinking almost a third before he leans back. “My head still hurts.” He whines, and you have to laugh. 

“Here,” you suggest, opening the tupperware of fried rice. “Eat.” 

He refuses, continuing to drink from his water, and you don’t have it in you to be annoyed at him. Instead, you grab a spoon. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” You mumble, starting to break up the fried egg and mix it all together.

After the first bite, “It’s good,” He says simply. “I’m glad I got to see you.” 

You feel the incessant pounding in your eardrums and your whole face feels hot. “Eat, before you throw up.” 

“I missed you.” Despite the harmless intention, you can’t stand to let Heeseung sweet-talk you, and it almost frustrates you to know there’s no weight to his words.

You roll your eyes at him and force him to finish his water. “Sober up before you get home.” 

In the quiet of the night, in the small neighborhood with everyone asleep, no one would know about the loudness of your chest, about how his eyes still hold his twinkle as he gazes tiredly at you, letting him dote on him. 

You continue to make sure he drinks and eats, and you’re so engrossed in taking care of him that you don’t realize how little the distance is between you. Making eye contact with him leaves you stunned into silence, but Heeseung says nothing to dispel what’s between you two. He reaches up, his palm cupping your jaw, and you swear, past the alcohol, there’s the faint fresh scent of the ocean, one that you recognize from being around him so often. 

You hold your breath, keeping the box in your steady as you wait for what he’s about to do next. He stares in silent question, glancing only to your lips and back up. It’s like time doesn’t even pass anymore, like a moment written in eternity when you brush away some of his hair.

You swear you’re about to kiss Lee Heeseung for the first time in your life. 

Instead, you cough and duck from his intimate stare, and he pulls away. The heat of his thumb still lingers on your cheek, and the way he looks at you doesn’t go unnoticed. 

“You’re feeling better, right? I’ll drive you home.” 

The wind whips against your window and the streets lay bare as you turn into his neighborhood. It’s all you can do. You can’t be in love, not with Heeseung. 

Heeseung texts you profusely the next day, apologizing before he leaves the house to see you in person. ‘i’m sorry if anything happened last night, please let me know if I overstepped a boundary,’ and despite his words being through text, your mouth feels like it’s dried up, and that you have no idea what to tell him. You send him something vague about driving yourself, nothing that alludes to how your heart raced and skipped a few beats, and how you still think about the gentle way he caresses your jaw. 

How are you supposed to pretend things were the same? Like you weren’t watching him, like his gaze wasn’t with care, and his touches were not electric. How could you pretend that you weren’t slowly falling for Lee Heeseung?

“Did I,” He starts as he rushes through the door. “Did I do something wrong?” 

Shaking your head, you continue to crush up the cookies in their topping container. “I just don’t want to bother you with driving me around anymore.” 

“But you’re not a bother.” Heeseung can barely recall what happened yesterday, and he doesn’t know what caused your sudden lack of interest with your texts from the morning. “Look, ____-” 

In a desperate attempt to push down your unreturned feelings and return things to how they were, you cut him off. “Heeseung, drop it.” 

The day stretches for an eternity, and Heeseung knows something’s wrong. As one last chance to fix things before he goes, he speaks up. “Please, what did I do?” 

And you want to oh-so desperately tell him that last night, you were about to kiss, that the distance between you two was so finite and the way he looked at you had your stomach churning with butterflies. That somewhere, you realized just how similar you two were- that Lee Heeseung understood hard work, he paid attention to the little things, he related to and comforted you in the times that you felt like you were never enough. And those are just the handful of reasons why. You never knew just how well you truly knew him until you evaluated the years you’ve spent together. Some things you pick up subconsciously; like the way he fidgets or nervously smiles when a girl asks for his number, or the way he always looks back at you when he rejects her advances. It’s weird how quickly the knots that made your relationship so complicated suddenly untangle. It’s really just this long windy string that connects you and him, and within the miscommunication, it’s gone awry. 

You and him are in the same vein, and with how much time you spend with each other, it’d be criminal if you didn’t slowly fall for the way he sings along the radio or how he started to open your door. He cares, in all of the minuscule tiny ways that make your heart ache so terribly. “Nothing, it’s…” It’s almost sick how your mind immediately wanders to some stupid scenario where you and Heeseung ended whatever was going on between you two, and you admitted feelings to each other. Heeseung drives you around in his car, Heeseung comes to your house with baked goods he made himself, Heeseung’s eyes glitter when you two get good scores on a test, telling you how happy he is. “It’s just nothing.” You tell him, not really sure what to make of your feelings at all. And while your emotions towards the boy are new and fresh, they're so real- it snowballs fast.

“It’s not nothing if something’s changed between us.” He reasons, a look in his eye begging you to explain. 

“It should be nothing, Heeseung. We’ve never gotten along, so what’s the difference now?” The words leave a burn on your tongue, and you hate the way Heeseung looks away for a moment before he agrees. 

“Right.” He says, monotone and lifeless. “Why bother?” 

And you’re angry with yourself for the way you nod, taking your things. You want to scream in his face that you’ve begun to tolerate Lee Heeseung, in more ways than one. You don’t just tolerate him- you appreciate him, you care for him, you want him to be yours. 

“Okay- Hee, wait.” You falter in your decisions, your heartstrings pulling you in an enchanting way towards him- against all rational. “I’m sorry.” You can’t let a good thing go, you can’t risk never talking to him again, simply because you don’t know what it’s like to live life without him. You see him in every memory, in every class photo, and you can’t bear to be the reason you two stop talking- all because you were too scared to speak your mind.

He turns around, waiting for you to continue, crossing his arms as he proceeds to lean against the counter. If you were honest with yourself, you’d admit that Lee Heeseung is one of the most attractive people you’ve met. 

“Do you mean it?” You ask, feeling foolish. He should be asking you that- after what you’ve just told him.

Heeseung takes a step closer, his gaze on the ground as he nears the cash register, slowly closing the distance between you two.

“Do you mean it?” He asks, his voice small. There’s still space between you two, and it feels like oceans apart. And you soak up his words for consideration, truly questioning if you did. 

“No, Heeseung-“ You stare at the blinds, looking around the space only to realize just how secluded you two were- that no one outside of the bakery would know just what loops and hurdles you two had been through to get here. “I could never. I shouldn’t have said it.” 

“Is it true, then? That we get along, now?” His slow steps finally leave the crunching of his shoes in front of you, and you nod your head. And after he sees your confirmation, he continues. “How do you feel about me, ____?”

Your surprised gaze meets his, and you see the small smile on his lips, and the almost playful look in his eye indicating that he’s not really hurt anymore.

“I hate you, Lee Heeseung.” You say, emboldened by his teasing. “I hated you for spilling all of that applesauce on me when we were eight, I hate how you get along with everyone, I hate how you act like you’re better than me.” You pause, to think of more, but his hand reaches up to cup your chin, pointing up to make sure you’re looking at him. 

“I hate all that humming you do at work,” you start, your voice small, feeling shy now that he’s forced to make eye contact (which is extremely attractive and turns your legs into jelly). “Or your piping skills, or how good your macarons taste compared to mine.”

Heeseung is so dangerously close, like how you were just last night. “What else?” He goads you on, wanting to hear just how much more you have left. 

“I hate everything about you,” You barely murmur above a whisper with him being so close to you. “But I’d hate it if you didn’t return my feelings, either.” 

He smiles, finally hearing you admit the very things that’s been plaguing your relationship with the idea of more. 

“Anything more to add?” 

You scoff, reaching up and tangling your hands in his hair. The last thing that reaches Lee Heeseung’s ears are the words, “You’re so annoying,” before you crash your lips into his. 

Your kiss with Heeseung satisfies a longing that’s lasted for a while- to know what it felt like to be so close to him, to kiss his rosy lips just once. It’s tantalizing- the way you can’t pull away, and the way he doesn’t let you with how his hand rests on your lower back to pull you closer. When your hold on his hair loosens slightly, he gingerly lets you lean back. Your forehead comes to rest with his as you open your eyes, letting out a slow breath as you think about the ghost of his kiss on your lips. He’s hesitant to separate from you completely, and rests his hand on your waist instead. 

You smile, biting your lip so you don’t giggle like an excited girl who’s just told her friends about a measly interaction with her crush. Your heart feels like a floating balloon, and your lips stretch into a grin, prompting Heeseung to smile at you, too. 

An idiot. That’s what you both look like. But when Lee Heeseung presses a small kiss on your forehead and intertwines your fingers, you couldn’t care less. 

“Heeseung, stop piping heart macarons, it’s embarrassing.” He rolls his eyes at you and adjusts the piping bag with red macaron batter inside. 

He mimics you childishly, and you want to scoop the lemon curd to plop on his head. “Stop piping heart macarons, yeah, okay, so why do I see you eating them?”

“I don’t. I’d never.” You’re lying, and you both know that, but Heeseung entertains your false narrative a bit more. 

“I’ll have you know, the lady at the law firm a few blocks down came here earlier and ordered some of them.” He retorts. You stick your tongue out at him and continue to mix the drink you’ve been preparing.

“What does she want them for, hm? I can imagine she’s in the season of love in July.” He laughs at your childish comment, continuing to pipe out almost identical hearts onto the baking sheet. 

“Maybe she loves her partner so much and wants to shower them in affection.” He grins, alluding to your relationship. You want to flick him across the forehead, rolling your eyes and walking over after finishing your drink for a to-go order. 

With an elbow on the counter, you watch him from the side as he diligently fills in the heart outlines. “You’ve always liked my macarons, though.” He reminds you. “Remember? You said it when we k-“

“Can you shut up about that?” You cut him off, feeling embarrassed. “It was like- a month ago.” 

It’s your exasperation that fuels him to tease you further. “It was a good kiss, was it n-“

You bump his shoulder, and he messes up one of the macarons, pausing before looking up at you. “Hey!” He whines, frowning. “These are supposed to be for that lawyer, remember?” 

You roll your eyes, and you know when Heeseung lies through his teeth. “Yeah, yeah,” You mutter, using a clean finger to wipe at the edge to make it look nice once more. You play along with his lie. “And we definitely fell in love because of cupid.” 

my baby is done!! as always pleaseeeeee let me know what you think!! even if it is just 'hdefhjfhds' that means the world to me!!!

reblogs are appreciated!! reblogs w comments are da best and asks !! let me know what you think NO JUDGEMENT!

tagging @sumzysworld !

send ask or dm if you'd like to be added to my perm taglist

[gothamite-rambler]

The batgirls on their period and how the boys handle them. My Aunt Flo is visiting this month and period woes should be told. All right, let’s do this thing!

Stephanie rested on the floor in the fetal position. She groaned from the intense cramps her period bestowed on her. Tim walked into the living room spotting her on the ground next to the couch.

Tim: Why are you on the floor?

Stephanie (uncomfortable): I attempted to readjust myself on the couch, and then I was on the ground. That's when the stomach cramps entered the mix and I am in too much cramp pain to want to get up. Why are these always so... intense?

Tim: You might have a medical condition related to the-

Stephanie: I need you to stop doing what you usually do. I seriously don’t want to kick you in the crotch and mind you I’m at the level to do so.

Tim (not concerned): Sorry, it's hard turning it off. Um, do you... Do you need anything?

Stephanie (sardonic): For us to switch places and you go through this.

Tim shakes his head.

Tim: Nah, I'm good.

Stephanie: It feels like an elephant is standing on top of my ovaries and… bouncing.

Tim: That is… oddly descriptive.

Stephanie chuckles raising her hand to talk with it.

Stephanie: Because it’s real, mon frère. At least I still have my humor.

She moans once more from the elephant bouncing pain.

Stephanie: I think this is it, Timothy. Leave me here to die. Tell my family I loved them and tell Kite-man not to attend my funeral. I’m serious, lock the doors if he tries to step foot at my burial service.

Tim rolled his eyes and helped his friend up.

Tim: At least lay on the couch.

Stephanie: Yes, I'll lay here and suffer.

Tim laid her on the couch and placed a pillow behind her head.

Tim: I can get you an ice or heating pack. That helped when I got kicked in the stomach.

Stephanie: Hmmm, bring me the warm one and Nutella and more carrots... And pain meds. The kind that will let me sleep like a baby.

Tim: Gotcha. Anything else?

Stephanie, raising her pointer finger.

Stephanie (sounding like an old lady): Blanket, child. A fuzzy one.

Tim (kind tone): You just rest. I will take care of you until your period ends. I'll also tell Bruce you're too... Sore is the word I want to use, yeah, too sore to go out tonight.

Stephanie: Thank you. You're the best.

Tim: I try to be.

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

Dick Grayson got the angry side of the menstrual cycle. Something he dealt with since knowing Barbara and it was never a fun time. Barbara was not happy with her replacement cake. A vanilla and chocolate mixed cake that Dick bought at the grocery store.

Barbara: This isn't the same cake! It has vanilla in it! You bastard!

Barbara tossed the cake at Dick, hitting him in the face. The cake fell off his face, leaving only icing and bits of cake on his face. He breathed heavily.

Dick: Maintain peace. Maintain peace.

Barbara (crying): Why did you eat my cake? I needed it at this time!

Dick wipes cake out of his eyes.

Dick (as calm as he can sound): Maybe you shouldn't have said I could eat the rest.

Barbara: You shouldn't have listened to me! I was naive back then.

Dick: It was… two days ago!

Barbara pouts and then bursts into more sobs.

Barbara: You YELLED AT ME!

Dick: Don’t cry- How was I supposed to know your period was coming on?!

Barbara: You live with Bruce Wayne! The man tracks everything! I thought you'd have the knowledge to do the same.

Dick: I really don't. You seemed to fail at that too.

Barbara: I was a few days off okay?! This is such shit! I’m tired and bloaty, and I can’t focus! I want to get to work, but my brain is foggy. Worst of all... you made me cry!

Barbara sobbed covering her face while doing so. Dick sighed, cautiously walking over to her.

Dick: You are going through a lot due to… a specific week of troubles and I really can't go through a sore foot again. I can do this for you, you just take a break, shut down this room for the night and rest up. I can buy you a big box of... Your favorite chocolates and a teddy bear that you can hit instead of me and give you some space until you’re up to going back to work.

Barbara (sniffling): That might help. I'm sorry for yelling at you and rolling over your foot. The cake throwing was uncalled for too. My PMDD makes me a little bit difficult to deal with.

Dick (sarcastically): No really I couldn't tell.

Barbara: Can you not tell anyone I cried either?

Dick: I’d rather forget all of this happened, secrets safe with me.

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

Jason got lucky with the chill side of the cycle although Cass is shy about this stuff. Her birth father wasn’t the type to want to raise a daughter correctly, Bruce tried, but it was awkward with him as well, but Jason was a better person to drag to a local convenience store for menstrual supplies.

Cass walked over to Jason, holding four different brand boxes of menstrual pads.

Cass: I couldn't figure out what to get so I picked each brand they had. I swear you think one brand will do its job and then… it doesn’t.

Jason shook his head not wanting to think about what she meant. Jason closed his eyes, regretting what he was about to say.

Jason: Never tell anyone this, but Artemis recommends the Playtex. Just get that so we can go.

Cass: Artemis suggested that? Okay, that’s the one to buy.

Cass hands Jason the playtex box then shoves the other brand boxes on a store shelf.

Jason: All right, take this back please.

Cass giggles

Cass: I'm glad you took me to the store, you’re the best.

Cass attempts to hug her brother, but he steps to the side.

Jason: Don't hug me in a convenience store as you're shopping for pads. I’m just as uncomfortable as you.

Cass (smiling): I'll give you that hug later. Oh if it's okay can you buy me a lot of caramel candies? I'm not a chocolate person honestly and these pads are expensive. 

Jason grabbed five bags without hesitation.

Jason: As long as I'm not paying for the...  Pads.

Cass: You so silly. You said Artemis has her own time of the month.

Jason (blushing): Yeah I don't- I don't help her out with that. Amazon women... not nice during that time. She screams at me if I talk to her during that pe- ti- situation. At least you're not as... Punchy as she is.

Cass: Yeah I'm pretty mellow during this time. Just bad cramps and feeling mushy.

Jason: That's... not mood swings, good… for you. I think.

Cass laughed, patting Jason on the arm.

Cass: Pretty much. I'm surprised you came in the store with me though.

Jason: I mean I wanted to help you out... because I care about you and I saw how nervous you were.

Cass sniffled with a smile.

Jason: Yeah I know I'm awesome. Let's check out. You go first.

Cass: I don't blame you.

...

Kate has been through her cycle enough times to be used to it. Her and Bruce were at Chili's (Not by Bruce's choice) and talk about menstrual cycles. Kate does all of the talking, Bruce is regretting ordering the burger.

Kate (chewing): I swear this one week is the bane of every woman who has to suffer through it. Blood coming out of that area, the aching and throbbing can be intense when my cramps start. It’s like someone is drilling a corkscrew into my uterus. The entire week is nothing but exhaustion, even walking is difficult. Then there’s the diarrhea and your breasts-

Bruce drops his fork and slams his fist on the table to stop his cousin from talking. She chuckled.

Bruce: Why are you telling me this while we're at a chain restaurant?

Kate laughed, taking another bite of her steak. 

Kate: You're my cousin and that gives me the right to gross you out. That and you have to know this by now. You have daughters.

Bruce: I'm starting to wish I had all boys.

Kate km(mockingly): You boys are so sensitive about this stuff. How do you think we feel? 

Kate takes a fry from Bruce’s hand and eats it. He was going to eat that.

Bruce (monotone): You want the rest of my fries?

Kate: N- I’ll take a couple.

Kate grabbed a fist full of fries and plopped them on her plate.

Kate: Brucie, just support us like you do already and we won't cuss you out.

Bruce (doubtfully): Yes you will.

Kate: I’m lying you got me. You're doing a great job though, cuzzo.

Bruce (sweetly): I’m glad that I am.

Part 1

[qwimblenorrisstan]

ACOTAR Masterlist

🥀 = Angst 🌼 = Fluff

🌸 = Comfort 🌹 = Smut

Request Guidelines

Azriel

~ Free Fall | Azriel x Angel!Reader 🌼

Summary: After you fell from the sky into his arms, Azriel finds you as his mate, and finally introduced you to his family.

Part 1 | Part 2

~ Blood Red | Azriel x Cassian’sister!Reader 🥀🌹🌸

Summary: After both you and Azriel are left, abandoned and replaced by those close to you, you find company with him in a night of drunken lust, only for old secrets to be unburied in the morning along with a mating bond.

~ Kindred Spirits | Azriel x Rhys’daughter!Reader 🌸🌹

Summary: Amidst Starfall, Azriel discovers that he has a mating bond with you, Rhysand’s daughter, and after pleading his case, he gets to spend some quality time with you at the cabin.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

~ Candles and Cuddles | Azriel x Reader 🌸🌼

Summary: You take Azriel to get a personal wax mold of your hands intertwined, and after overcoming insecurity, settle into each other’s warm embrace.

~ The Clandestine Culinarian | Azriel x Reader 🥀

Summary: Azriel requires a deadly poison, and the only place he can get acquire it is through a bakery in Hewn City, and in the process grows closer to you, the owner of the shop, and is there for you when tragedy strikes.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

~ Snow Bunny | Azriel x Reader 🌼🌹

Summary: After the bat boys enjoy their annual snowball fight, in which Azriel wins, he gets the best prize of all, a night alone with his mate.

~ Short Drabble | Azriel x Reader 🌼

Summary: Sleepy mornings with your mate.

~ Catch of the Eye | Azriel x Hippy!Reader🌼

Summary: After you moved into Velaris, your bright demeanor and clothing seemed to demand Azriel’s attention, as well as the rumors of the Princess of Autumn’s disappearance.

~ Dawn Daydreams | Azriel x Peregryn!Reader🌼🌹

Summary: While visiting Dawn Court with his High Lord and Lady for political relations, Azriel finds himself falling for you, Thesan’s sister, from a distance, only for the bond to snap in the middle of the High Lord’s meeting.

~ Home, At Last | Azriel & WitchDaughter!Reader🥀🌸

Summary: Unbeknownst to Azriel, an encounter he had with a witch nearly three centuries ago will come back to haunt him when his shadows begin speaking of you, his “daughter”, a witch in danger of being thrown out of her coven.

~ Glimmering Shadows | Azriel x Reader 🌼🌼

Summary: While visiting Spring Court on political business with Rhys, Azriel meets you, a Faerie with little glimmering sparks that help you in the same way his shadows help him, and he decides that visiting you a few more times afterwards couldn’t hurt.

Part 1 | Part 2

~ Wine-Nights And Shadow-Sneezes🌼🌼

Summary: You are an artist in Velaris, and a popular one at that, leading you to befriend Feyre. She invites you over to drink wine with her, only for you to later be left alone with Azriel as he confesses something he never thought he would.

~ A Silver Storm | HockeyPlayer!Azriel x FigureSkater!Reader🥀🌼

Summary: Shortly after moving to a new school for better opportunities in figure skating, you meet Rhys, Cassian, Azriel and Feyre. After accidentally getting you in trouble with a teacher, Rhys invites you to a party to make up for it, and at the party you and Azriel end up getting a lot closer than you would’ve imagined.

~ Insufficient | Azriel/Eris x Reader 🥀🥀

Summary: After a few months of dating, your relationship begins to crack, and the truth behind Azriel’s odd behavior comes out.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

~ To Be Known | Azriel x Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: You’ve always been afraid to confess to Azriel about your feelings for him, but after a hookup gone wrong, everything begins falling apart, and he’s there to pick up the pieces.

~ Subservient | Azriel x Orphan!Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: Rhys’ reputation in Hewn City is less than stellar, so when an orphanage becomes overwhelmed, he offers to take some in. His plan doesn’t turn out how he expected when he’s instead sent you, an employee there, sent to scope Rhys out before sending children to him. And in true High Lord fashion, he unceremoniously dumps you off on his brothers.

~ Treason | Azriel x Reader 🥀🥀

Cassian

~ Put Back Together | Cassian x Nurse!Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: After the recent attack on Velaris, you, a nurse, find yourself struggling with all the death surrounding you. However, Cassian is always there to put you back together.

~ Just This Once | Cassian x Witch!Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: After a witch has been discovered in Windhaven, Cassian has been sent to bring the creature back, and ‘domesticate’ her, according to Rhys. It proves a difficult task, but he soon discovers that you aren’t as ‘strong and independent’ as you seem.

~ Cassian Hc’s 🌸🌼

Summary: How Cassian would interact and care for you, his teenage daughter.

~ Loving Lies | Cassian x Reader 🌸

Summary: Only a few days after the war with Hybern ends, Cassian discovers that you, the “male” that’s been his Second in Command for nearly a decade, are a female in disguise.

~ Beach Day | Cassian x Reader🌼🌼

Summary: During a lengthy visit to Day Court with the Inner Circle, so Rhys and Feyre can discuss political matters with Helion, you and the Inner Circle find more entertaining things to do, such as have a beach day.

~ Lazy Sunday | Cassian x Reader 🌹🌼

Summary: Lazy mornings with Cassian don’t always go as planned. Today is one of those days.

~ Blizzard | Cassian x Reader 🌼🌼

Summary: During one of the worst storms in Illyria, Cassian, of course, decides to visit you and travel through said storm.

~ Bloody Cuddles | Cassian x Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: Cassian has no where else to go except to you when he shows up at your door in the middle of the night, beaten and bloodied.

Rhysand

~ Never Again | Rhysand x Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: Rhys has been too caught up in his work lately, not giving you any of his time. After forgetting the date you'd both scheduled tonight, that was the last straw, and you go out with Azriel instead, only for Rhys to plead for your forgiveness.

~ Dreamers | Rhysand & Daughter!Reader🥀🌸

Summary: After Madja is away in business for two months, he has to find a healer to replace her in her absence, which happens to be you, his bastard daughter, and unbeknownst to him, Azriel’s mate.

~ Saving Grace | Rhysand x Reader 🥀

Summary: The war between humans and Fae is about to happen, and you, desperate to save Autumn Court, your home, from the destruction to come, are going to attempt a political alliance with the current High Lord of Night Court’s son, Rhysand.

~ Reaching | Rhysand x Reader 🥀🥀

Summary: Your mate isn't the same after coming home from Under the Mountain, but despite how frustrated you get, you'll keep reaching out your hand.

Poly!Bat Boys x Reader

~ Insatiable | Bat Boys x Reader 🌹🌹

Summary: Rhys didn’t expect you, his mate, to have so much energy when the frenzy began, leaving him worn out, and so he calls Cassian and Azriel to come assist him.

~ Meaningful Mistakes | Azriel x Cassian x Reader🌹🌼

Summary: After what you had thought to only be a simple one night stand with Cassian and Azriel, you discover that you’re pregnant, and while delivering the news, the bond between the three of you snaps.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

~ Bondage w/ Bat Boys Drabble 🌹🌹

~ Cocooned | Cassian x Reader x Azriel 🥀🌼

Summary: During a storm, you cuddle up with Cassian, and reminisce about Azriel.

Eris Vanserra

~ A New Dawn | Eris x Reader 🥀🌼

Summary: Feyre grows closer to you, a close friend of Lucien’s, as you visit him while she’s in Spring Court. During that time, she learns of you being given to Eris as a servant by Amarantha, but no one could’ve suspected how deep the relationship between you and the Autumn Court heir went.

~ An Exchange in Etiquette | Eris x Reader 🌼🥀

Summary: When a poorly mannered royal his age shows up at the ball, teenage Eris can’t help but take pity on her, offering a deal, that he give her a lesson in etiquette, in exchange for a lesson in defiance.

Lucien Vanserra

~ Missing You | Lucien x Reader 🌸🌹

Summary: After coming back home from a long trip to Autumn Court due to his emissary duties, Lucien is exhausted, but still more than willing for whatever touch you’ll give him.

~ Distractions | Lucien x Reader 🌹

Summary: You’re struggling to write the script for the next chapter of your novel due to overthinking and self-doubt, and Lucien knows exactly how to distract you from it.

~ Onesies | Lucien x Reader 🌼🌼

Summary: A girl’s night with Feyre, Elain and the Valkyries leads to your mate being stuffed into a onesie much too small for him.

~ Unveiled | Lucien x Reader 🌸🌹

Summary: You find yourself insecure one afternoon while going out with Rhys and Feyre with Lucien, and your mate seems to have picked up a few suggestions from the Illyrian.

Elain Archeron

~ Allergies | Elain x Reader 🌼🌼

Summary: Elain wants to visit the new cat cafe in Velaris, but can’t because of your allergies, so she comes up with a creative solution…

Nesta Archeron

~ Bewitched | Nesta x/& Reader 🌼🌼

Summary: Nyx’s Halloween costume doesn’t fit; you and Nesta have a solution.

[xmalereader]

Bruce Wayne x Male Reader

☆ — MASTERLIST — ☆

REQUEST: Could you please write Burce wayne x male reader who has trouble ordering food. Like in a restaurant when the waiter asks, he either stutters or goes completely quiet, and that's why he asks Bruce to order for him. And i would like to see Bruce's reactions when a waiter is like "you don't have to order for him. He can order for himself. I wasn't asking you, i was asking him" just the waiter assuming that Bruce is kinda controlling. The reader is silently crying in his seat, having to order on his own, like he knows the waiter was trying to do something good. (Totally not speaking from personal experience 🤭)

WARNINGS/CONTENT: Fluff, mature language, social anxiety, Bruce is a good boyfriend, mentions of fears, judgment, request, relatable events, everyone struggles.

TAGS: @one-green-frog

WC: 1.5K

NOTES: I used to struggle with ordering food due to anxiety and fear of people judging me 😩 but as I got older they fear kind of went away and I’m able to do it with no problem but everyone deals with anxiety differently and takes time to get come it so I ain’t judging. It’s like that with my older brother he’s 26 and still makes me order for him due to his own anxiety. But hopefully you enjoyed this shot and apologize for the long wait!

Everyone has social anxiety.

Y/n struggled with it at a young age, not being taught how to speak with others in public without getting the intense fear of judgment from others. He figured that he would improve as he got older, but it didn’t change and still struggled with the simple things. He could go out and run errands alone without any struggles since majority of place now had self checkout which was a god send for many.

He’s able to hold a conversation with strangers or with people he knew in the area, but his anxiety would get to him when it came towards the simplest tasks. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was an over thinker and would think that he did something wrong or if he perhaps pronounced something incorrect, thinking that people were judging him for the smallest things. It took time for him to improve but the anxiety still remained during important moments.

One of the easiest things that many were able to accomplish is ordering food. Their were times that he hesitated or froze up when ordering his own food, having to apologize each time he orders and forcing a nervous smile or laugh in hopes of getting through the few minutes that he is there. He struggled even more when he went out on dates.

Very few people knew about his anxiety and very few friends were kind enough to do the ordering for him without hesitation and providing the assistance that he needed. With strangers it was a whole other story, he didn’t want to force them into placing his own order due to his own fear and would struggle with speaking the words.

His dates never went well after that and hated the way he felt each time he stumbled upon the problem. If the waiter or waitress wasn’t staring at him intensely he’d probably order his food without a problem and his day would go fine. But the feeling of their eyes staring at him as he looked at his choices of food made him stutter and grow nervous when ordering.

Forcing that smile as always and getting through the day of embarrassment.

If he had this kind of anxiety how was he suppose to handle his future dates when he couldn’t do a simple task? He’s able to do a whole presentation in a room full of board of directors but he stutters and hesitates when it comes towards ordering a simple meal or even asking for help whenever he’s in public.

He figured he’d spend his days locked indoors while making his own meals while watching a good movie.

He didn’t think he’d end up bagging Bruce Wayne. Gothams Golden boy.

Y/n had thought that this was all a trick or a joke when Bruce first asked him out. He wanted to laugh at the mans face and tell him that he doesn’t need to make his life miserable by playing a mean joke, only to realize that Bruce was in fact not joking around.

Y/n worked at Wayne Enterprises but in a lower department not expecting himself to bump into Bruce Wayne and getting asked out by the man himself. Their first date was simple with a cup of coffee and muffins. He would have thought that bruce would take him someplace fancy on their first date, but when he didn’t he was a bit relieved.

Bruce was a great man and didn’t do anything that made him uncomfortable. Y/n figured that he’d only get lucky to have one date with bruce and then never see them man again, only to get asked out again and again and again. The first four months went well without any problems and enjoyed his time with Bruce as their time together grew their dates slowly got fancier.

Resulting into Y/n confessing to Bruce about his anxiety and fear of others judging him because he couldn’t do a simple task that only required a few words. He thought Bruce would laugh at him or use it against him and force him to confront his fear, instead Bruce smiled at him and asked.

“Do you want me to order for you?”

He said it with the most calmest voice ever showing no hints of judgment.

Y/n wanted to cry that night. It was a simple favor, but it meant a lot to him.

As their dates continued they created a routine each time they went out to eat. Y/n would either look up the menu online ahead of time and already have his order in mind and tell bruce before getting their orders placed. Bruce even memorized the dishes that Y/n liked whenever they went to a repeated restaurant and would for him on the spot without needing to be told what he liked, already knowing the mans interests.

A year into dating and it became a normal thing between the two.

During their one year anniversary, Bruce decided to take him to a new restaurant and getting seated in a nice secluded area and away from others. Y/n scanned the menu and hums. “This looks good.” He speaks up as he checks the different dishes until one caught his eye.

“You know the rule, order whatever you want.” Said Bruce, always reminding him that he can get whatever he wanted. Y/n was hesitant about the prices at first but with time he got adjusted to the idea of Bruce paying for everything and no matter how many times he tried to pay himself, Bruce had already paid ahead of time.

“This pasta looks good.” Y/n points out on the menu and shows Bruce who looked up form his own menu and smiles. “Is that all you want?”

“Can I also get this for dessert?” He points behind the menu where a picture of a nicely desert is presented, getting Bruce to chuckle as he nods his head. “You better share with me because I already know you won’t eat it all.” Y/n laughs at his words and sets his menu down, leaning back in his seat as he looks around the restaurant and takes in the interior, distracted by the place that he doesn’t notice the waitress coming over.

“Are you ready to order?”

“Yes,” Bruce smiles at the women and starts with his order first, letting her know what he’d like. “And for you?” She turns her attention to Y/n who gets his attention pulled away from a painting he was staring at and looks at her with wide eyes. “I…”

“He’d have the pasta and the chocolate desert.” Bruce is quick to cut in when he noticed Y/n freeze up.

The waitress gives Bruce the stink eye by how he interrupts Y/n. “You don’t have to order for him. He can order for himself.” Bruce froze with wide eyes, opening and closing his mouth in shock. “I wasn’t asking you I was asking him.” She points her pencil at Y/n and puts her attention on him.

Y/n can only gap at her, opening and closing his mouth as he tries to speak but I can’t. He was caught off guard and reached out for his menu. “I’ll like…the—the…” He’s stuttering and doesn’t know what to tell her. “Do you need another minute?” She asks which only make the situation worse, he’s turning to Bruce and staring at him with eyes full of fear and hesitation silently screaming for help.

“I assure you miss my partner would like the pasta and desert.” Bruce says again in hopes of getting her to note down the order and she does, not without rolling her eyes which only makes Y/n whine.

“Your food will be ready soon.” She said while taking their menus and walking away, leaving them in silence.

Y/n lets out a deep sigh of relief. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to say, she probably thinks you’re an asshole now.” He groans out while covering his face with his hands. Bruce can only chuckle while shaking his head and reaching out to grab him by the wrists. “Don’t be, not everyone knows about your fear and besides she was only doing it because she probably thought I was controlling.”

“You’re not!”

“She doesn’t know that. If I wanted to be asshole I would have yelled at her like other people do, but I’m not doing that. It was a simple misunderstanding.” Bruce reassured Y/n as he held his hand and smiles. He didn’t think that something like this would happen since they’ve never had this issue in the past at the other places that they visited.

“All you have to worry about is eating all of your food and sharing your desert.” Bruce tries to lighten up the mood which works for Y/n as he chuckled and nods his head. “Fine and then after we go home and watch a movie and not come back here again.” After this misunderstanding its most likely he doesn’t want to come back and face the same issue again.

“We stick with Jimmy’s…” He mumbled out, referring to his favorite restaurant that serviced amazing chicken wings and fries. Bruce laughs while nodding. “Next time we go out will go to Jimmy’s.” At this point they were already considered regulars that the owner memorized their orders, which made it better for Y/n.

[norrizzandpia]

hey, totally ok if it’s not ur vibe, but i’d love to see an oscar fic where he’s helping his girlfriend or a childhood best friend when she’s feeling a bit down.

i keep thinking about that man helping clean a depression room and telling his girl not to be embarrassed and he’s there to help and they get it sorted and he just holds her. makes sure she’s eaten and drank something.

even if it’s just a drabble, i’d really appreciate it :) need that kinda care in my life rn, even if it’s fictional.

I made this girlfriend because it just felt softer idk

To Be Loved Is To Be Seen (OP81)

Summary: Oscar knows his girlfriend well and it’s obvious to him when she starts breaking down. He’s happy to help or, more specifically, remind her how worth it she is.

Warnings: this one is HEAVY on the family trouble, depression, anxiety, VERY ANGSTY but def cutest HAPPY ENDING

Note: i didn’t know if you wanted reader to be in a rut or have a reason for it so i just made a reason

Y/n’s first few months of university were hard. Not only was it due to the new course load, but also because of her parents lack of interest when it came to her life. It had been a gradual shift, starting from her last two years in high school and only getting stronger as time went on. They had always been there, overbearing at times, but, now, they posted pictures of their trips around the world, failing to answer her calls and texts. She felt selfish for wanting her parents’ attention as much as she did, but it was hard to fight. There were situations she had never dealt with before, she wanted her mom’s wise words and father’s funny remarks to get through it all. But, she sat alone in the darkness of her room without the guidance counselor she usually could count on. It felt as if she wasn’t enough to keep them there anymore. It was heart wrenching and it stewed within her at such volumes, it became too much.

That’s when Oscar noticed. Her boyfriend had always been attentive, noticing small things about her that no one else did, but the second her smile didn’t reach her eyes and her text messages became less frequent, it was almost as if he was staring her down in anticipation of some sort of sign. He didn’t begin to realize it was related to her parents until he caught a glimpse of her phone when they were together, the screen open to her conversations with her mother and all of the recent texts going completely unanswered. He knew she had always had a rocky relationship with them, but she spoke about them with such respect, he knew it would’ve bothered her to feel so unimportant.

Knocking on her door, his hands clutched the bag of her favorite food he had got on his walk to her apartment. He had planned this evening out for weeks, not telling her about it in worry that she would slip into a facade put together with a fake smile that made his skin crawl.

She opened it, her body tense and tired in a ratty shirt and shorts, “Oscar? What are you doing here?”

It was as if he saw her front go up, her posture straightening and that haunting smile which told him all too well how much pain she was in. He smiled softly, “I thought we could spend the night together.”

She closed the door enough to only peek her head through, “Osc, I’m so sorry, but I can’t tonight. I’m so busy.”

He stayed put, “That’s okay. I can wait on your couch.”

“No, Osc,” She said firmly, her face turning in the light and exposing the dark bags under her eyes.

He stepped closer to her, putting his hand on the door and looking down at her with a look that made her feel loved, “Y/n, let me in. I know you’re going through it. Let me be with you.”

Her resolve cracked, her smile dropping for a second and water suddenly pooling in her eyes, “You don’t want to come in here.”

He leaned against the door and cupped her cheek, “It won’t make me love you any less.”

With a sigh, Y/n pushed the door open, beckoning the boy into her home. He knew what to expect, he knew what it was like to reach the place she was in. So, when he saw the piles of clothes, half-eaten food on the counter with old dishes in the sink, and her little accessories put in the wrong places, something she would never usually do, he wasn’t surprised. If anything, he was happy she had let him in, literally and figuratively.

She picked at her nails beside him, swaying on her feet as she analyzed his every move. Part of her was trying to ready herself for him to walk out the door, give up on her because of whatever stood before them, but he gently set the food on the floor and ushered her into his embrace. His cheek laid against the top of her head, nestled in her hair, as he tightened his grip around her body. She smelled his cologne and felt his sweatshirt which made him feel all the more warm. There was something about his presence, she would later learn it was how safe she felt, that made the turmoils of her mind quiet as she began to cry. Y/n had promised herself that she wouldn’t cry for people who clearly didn’t care, but as Oscar rubbed her back and whispered how much he loved her, she realized it was never going to work.

Her breaking down wet the material of his sweatshirt, but Oscar just held her tighter, whispering how it was going to be okay and this would all pass.

“You’re so worth it all, Y/n,” He whispered, pecking the top of her ear as he smoothed down her hair.

She clutched his back before Oscar was moving her hands under his hoodie to feel the bare of his skin. He knew she loved that. And she did. Y/n’s tears began to dissipate as he told her why he was there.

“I’m with you in this. You aren’t alone. I’m here for you and I always will be. This,” He gestured to the space around them, holding her face in his hands and forcing her eyes to meet his, “doesn’t scare me at all, love. What does scare me, though, is the attempts at eating on the counter. Have you been eating other than that?”

She shook her head, “I tried. It’s too hard. I’m not hungry ever anymore.”

He titled his head with a small frown, “Well, maybe your favorite food will help, yeah? We’ll sit together and eat. We can go as slow as you want, or as fast. All up to you, baby.”

He kissed her forehead lightly before guiding her to the living room, one of the less dirty places, and setting her down on the cushions. He set it all behind him, not wanting to overwhelm her with everything he got, and took out what he knew she would want first. There was a dull sparkle in her eyes when he handed it to her, his heart lifted. It hadn’t been there when he first arrived.

She opened it slowly, eyeing the food she once ravished in seconds, and taking a utensil to pick at it. He looked at her, waiting patiently for her to take a bite. When she did, however small, he did too. When she did again, he did too.

She stopped, “Why aren’t you eating faster?”

He smiled, “Because I’ll take a bite when you do. I don’t mind, Y/n. I told you I’m in this with you.”

Her eyes gloss over as they dart between him and the food before taking another bite, giggling a bit when Oscar takes one of his own dish. She eats, he does too and their eyes never leave each other, offering unspoken support.

When the plastic boxes are gone and empty, Oscar has glasses of water randomly appearing in his grip, offering them to his girlfriend who has found herself tangled in that soft blanket he got her last Christmas. Her cheeks are a soft pink from the warmth of it coupled with the candle he lit in the midst of their dinner and she smiles when the cool liquid flows down her throat. Oscar stands over her, hands in his pockets and wondering how anyone could possibly ignore her texts. He wants to take a picture of her, remind her parents of the beauty they have in their reach. But, he also knows that any text he sends to them wouldn’t be one he should send to his potential (very likely) in-laws. So, he stays quiet and looks at her with the love she deserves.

“Do you need anything else?” He asks, pushing the hair out of her face.

She shakes her head, “No, I’m good. What movie do you want to watch?”

He kisses her cheek, “It’s up to you. I won’t be watching.”

Her eyebrows knot together and she cocks her head, “Why not? Is this some random pickup line where you’re going to tell me how you’ll only be watching me?”

He laughs, his head back, as he walks toward her room, “No, but that’s a good one. I’ll keep that for later. You put on whatever you want, baby. I’ll be cleaning.”

She crawls to the corner of the couch, watching him begin to pick up her room, “Clean? What? Why?”

He stops, turning around to look at her through the door, “Because I want to help you feel better and I know your apartment is stressing you out. You shouldn’t have to worry, love. Just relax. I’ll be done in a few hours.”

Her mouth is agape as he moves throughout her room, putting things away as if he knows where everything goes. He does, apparently. And when the shock of it wears off, a smile cements itself on her face as she turns on a random movie. She enjoys the soft humming of Oscar in the other room, answering his occasional question about the plot of the movie she’s watching. When he moves to the kitchen, out in the open and available to see what’s on the screen, Y/n falls asleep to the picture of her boyfriend doing her dishes and taking out her trash. Falling asleep with a warm heart mended by someone that has always loved her unconditionally.

—

She’s awoken by the feeling of soft mattress beneath her and Oscar’s arms heavy around her torso. He’s deep in sleep when she opens her eyes, has her completely enveloped in his grasp on her side. The room is dark, the window open and allowing for a cold breeze to flow through the room. She loves it. It’s cold outside, but Oscar keeps her warm. Her hands move their way up to his head, playing with his hair and staring at the man who has treated her so gently.

Tears fall down her face all so suddenly, sniffling lightly but still waking Oscar in the process.

He’s immediately worried, “What’s wrong?”

Her head drops to his chest, “I just love you so much and can’t tell you how much it meant to me that you stayed here even after seeing the state everything was in, including me.”

His soft hands leave her body and pull her face up to him. His eyes are dilated as he looks at her, “I would’ve done it yesterday and I’ll do it for the rest of our lives. I don’t want you to struggle alone. You don’t deserve that. You’ve done too much of that before you met me.”

If only her younger self could see her now. A younger girl worried she’d never find a man who loved her by seeing her now wholly adored by someone who didn’t just see her, but understood her too. She doesn’t even need to utter the problem, he already knows and she’s caught on to that since the moment he showed up at her door. His carefully chosen words about her worth and how easy it is to love her were all strategically placed in order to fix the cracks deep in her soul that have come undone at the hands of her parents.

“It’s just upsetting that they only loved me.” She whispers and for a second, Oscar doesn’t understand what she’s saying. But, the tense of her words dawns on him and the look on her face unleashes anger in his body. Loved. It’s upsetting that her parents loved her. They no longer do in her eyes. She once had parental support, love, but it’s obvious how transactional, conditional it was now. She got a taste of what it was like to be loved by them, but it was taken away when she needed it the most. She had mentioned to him before that growing up, she felt as if they used her presence to shy away from the problems of their marriage. When she was out of the house, she thought they would separate, but the opposite has happened. She served her purpose, now they throw money at trips to fill the void of what they have refused to face. Disregarded and thrown away, that’s the implications of what she’s confided.

He nods, tears in his eyes, “It’s so unfair of them to treat you this way. They’re your parents. They should be there for you, but they have never known how to love and you were just an unnecessary victim in it all.”

She wipes the moisture from her face, “I should just move on from the way they’ve treated me. I should give them grace because they’re my parents. I should just make peace with it all because this will never be fixed in the way I want it. But, I can’t.”

Oscar kisses the top of her head, “It’s okay that you can’t. That’s completely understandable. Giving grace just because they’re your family members isn’t right, Y/n. Just because there’s a blood relation doesn’t mean you can excuse their behavior. They’re your parents and they have neglected you for ages. You can’t keep giving everything to them, only to get nothing in return. Parents or not, you distance yourself from people who bring you down as much as they do.”

More tears smear against his chest, “But, they’re my parents, Osc.”

It’s as if he doesn’t know what to say because he knows how much she praises their drive and determination, giving her a life of privilege. Though, he stands firm on the idea that no one should be given a second chance if they “love” this way.

“I know, Y/n, and it’s so horrible that you’ve been put in this situation, but I think it would do you some good to let go of a part of them. You’ll go home and see them for birthdays, Christmases, but, in the time between, you don’t have to chase after them. You can find love in other things, happiness in other things. I’ll even do some of it with you. We can take up painting classes like you always wanted, walks in that park down the street that you love, studying in coffee shops, and watching the sunset. Life without them can be freeing.”

He’s right, she thinks. Life without them will be freeing. But, the story of letting go is never easy and finding yourself flipping to past chapters to hold onto something that isn’t there anymore is usual.

However, as she lays tangled in the limbs of Oscar, she finds future chapters to be more exciting, more fulfilling. Her whole life is ahead of her, one including Oscar, and that sudden revelation fills her with an overwhelming relief. His listing of all the things she loves, wants to try desperately reminds her just how in love with her he is. Every action of hers is noted by him and she’s spent years begging for that from her parents. She never got it, but maybe that was because something else softer lied in the cards for her. At times, her parents needed her, but they would always need something else more. Glamorous, shiny, new things that would satisfy them for a time. She would never be enough in the minds of them, but in the mind of Oscar, she was more than enough. It was clear she was everything to him.

A life with him would be different from the one handed to her on a broken, rusty platter. She wanted that with him and the way he looked at her told her he did too. Letting go of the dismissal of people she has killed herself for to make proud was maybe for the best, pushed her in the direction of focusing on Oscar and everything she’s ever wanted. Was this her mending old, deep wounds?

Loved and cherished, she found sleep once more, rejuvenated with hope and a sense of moving on.

[wonyourdreams]

The Manager

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Ateez!OT8 x male reader

Warnings: Gang Bang, Slutshaming, Degrading, Penetration, Polyamory relationship

It’s been eight months since you became Ateez’s newest manager after the two other previous ones ran away because of how they were chased by Jongho and Yeosang telling them they’ll end up like the apples Jongho broke with his two bear hands

Technically you became the group’s longest manager to stay since the last two didn’t even make it a month

Which is understandable since being with them is like hell, and by hell, IT’S LITERAL HELL trying to tame eight spans of Satan in one go

Let’s just say they didn’t know their limits and dragged you to every trouble they could put you in

But strangely enough they started to be a bit more quiet lately, it started past month when you accidentally walked in Wooyoung masturbating he started to be more quiet, when Yeosang accidentally walked on you taking a bath, though he didn’t clearly see you just your figure through the glass, when you cleaned the house everyone just kept quiet and looked at you which was wierd

Now your walking towards the laundry room holding Wooyoung’s basket taking it to the rest of the baskets that were piled up in the room

“What the-“ you exclaimed as you saw that the baskets were flipped over and most of the clothes are piled down on the floor

“Ok who did this?!” you shouted but nobody showed up or answered your question

You put down Wooyoung’s basket on the side and started to pick a random basket and putting all the rest of the dirty clothes, not caring anymore who owns which

You aren’t suppose to do their laundry but the boys begged you to do it despite having a bad relationship with them

“Be their manager they say” you mumbled out “its gonna be fun they say” you added

As you were picking up clothes you felt something hard wrapped in one of the underwears, you unwrapped it and it was a purple dildo

Your eyes widened as you stared at it it wasn’t big neither was it small

Looking at it turned you on to be honest living with eight good looking boys turned you on everytime they changed in front of you or jokingly flirt with you despite the bad relations

You liked it when they tried to sexually touch you in certain parts of your body

You took off your shorts and looked around before finally taking off your underwear with it

You sucked on the dildo making sure it was slippery and wet, gagging yourself in the process

As you were already certain it was ready to put inside you, you arch your back a little as you reach the dildo to your back and slightly push it in you

You whimper and moan out Yunho’s name as you try to push it in while your other hand grips tightly on the pile of clothes in front of you acting as a support to not lose your balance

As it goes deeper you moan out each of the members name randomly

You continued moaning, when you feel like you couldn’t take anymore you stopped and adjusted

You let go of the dildo for a while as you feel your hand was tired from holding it, you adjusted for a while

When you felt like you were ready you tried to reach for it but felt a slap in your hand and someone pushed the dildo in your eyes widened as you let out a moan pleasure and pain at the same time

You felt a hand holding your right arm to keep your balance and another hand in your left

It was Yeosang and Jongho as you felt a whisper from behind “You dirty little Slut” Wooyoung said as he continued to fuck you with the dildo

You moaned loudly and shamelessly as you were being fucked with the dildo washing out the thought that someone might hear you

As you were being fucked you see Seonghwa, San, Hongjoong, Yunho, and Mingi in front of you smiling and staring at you

“Who would’ve thought our manager turned out to be a cock hungry little bitch, that fantasizes about eight men banging him” Hongjoong says as he kneels in front of your fucked out state who was still a moaning mess

He grabs you by your chin and looks into your eyes admiring your pure innocent looking face that’s now crying and drooling over a dildo that was inside your ass

“Don’t worry we’ve also been thinking of doing very dirty things to you” he says as he leans in and kisses you whose mouth was agape and tongue out

You kissed back hungrily, and you whined as soon as he pulled away

“I-I w-want k-kiss” you try to let out but they just smiled at you as they were all taking off their pants

Wooyoung continuously murders your hole with the dildo as you tightened your grip on Yeosang and Jongho on either your side

Yunho kneels in front of you and kisses you and roams his hands all around your body until he stopped in your still soft sensitive buds he plays with it as you moan on the kiss

As soon as Yunho parted, Mingi kneels in front of you presenting his monstrous dick, "Suck" he said as he slapped his manliness in your face multiple times

You couldn't do anything but obey, you took him in your mouth, you were struggling, given how big he was, "Fuck hyung, I've always wondered how you felt around my cock, your mouth is tighter than all the girls we fucked on tour" He whines while his head hangs all the way back and eyes are closed

"I think he's ready" Wooyoung said, "Who wants to go first?" he added

"May I?" Jongho asked while looking at Hongjoong, Hongjoong just nodded and quickly Jongho went to your back

Wooyoung removed the dildo, you whined at the loss, Jongho proceeded to rub the tip of his cock in your slightly gaping hole

"Hyung, fuck, ngh, so tight" he bends his head back

"That's right you slut" Hongjoong said as he grabbed your hands and wrapped it around his dick, while Yunho on the other side

Jongho continuously ravaged your ass while Mingi mouthfucked you, while Yunho ang Hongjoong on both saides of your hands the rest of the group just watched and masturbated

"I'm gonna cum!" Jongho says, "Me too" Mingi exclaims and just like that they both came on your holes you two came untouched while Yunho and Hongjoong also came on your hands

They removed themselves from you, you were going dumb, dizzy and lids half closed

You were tired, you whined when they removed themselves and left you on the floor

"I want a turn" Yeosang said, "Me first!" San said while trying to push Yeosang

They both started bickering, wanting to go first but Hoongjoong thought of something and smiled

"Why not at the same time?" he said, Yeosang and San looked at each other

San manhandled you and placed you on his lap and started rubbing his tip

He slowly pushed his cock inside "Fuck" he leans his head back and closes his eyes "Still so fucking tight, fuck" he groans

You moaned at his sudden intrusion "Enough" you faintly said

Seonghwa laughed, "Enough? just a while ago you were whoring yourself out over a dildo, next time you should be mindful cause your not the only one who lives here" he mockingly said

San started moving upward, your back and head leaning on his shoulders and chest, you also started rubbing yourself on his cock trying to meet his thrusts

"He's so hot" Wooyoung said

"He's ready" San said looking at Yeosang

Yeosang moved in front of you and started making out with you, spitting in your mouth every once in a while and kiss you

"N-No! Don't" you tried to complain but Yeosang was determined, his and San's growls getting louder at Yeosang's intrusion, you screamed at their cocks

San alone was already hard to take in because of his size not as thick as Jongho but definitely longer, Yeosang was shorter than San but definitely girthier, which made it difficult to take them both in

"Fuck hyung!" Yeosang cried, "So tight"

Yeosang was fully in you, two cocks were in you, both men were moaning at how their dicks were against each other being hugged by your tight hole

"Fuck I can't take it anymore" Seonghwa said and held your chin and pulled to face the side

He presented his cock in front of you "Open your mouth" he commanded, you did as you were told and he spit on your mouth

Seonghwa stared at your face for a few seconds, red cheeks, dried tears and sweaty face, traces of cum still evident in the side of your lips

"Filthy, I like it" he said and shoved his dick in your mouth "Fuck so tight and warm" he leaned his head back and closed his eyes

Wooyoung on the other hand proceeded to take your other hand and wrapped it on has manhood

They all started pushing together, you felt euphoric, you felt a mixture of pain, pleasure, and you felt tired but still wanted to keep going

You came as Hongjoong played with your cock as they all were thrusting in you, the rest of the members were biting you and making out with each other and Jongho and Mingi played with your nipples while still masturbating

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum" Yeosang said between kisses with Hongjoong

"Me too" San said as Mingi fucked his ass

Yunho was also fucking Seonghwa who was busy with your mouth and same goes with Jongho to Yeosang while he was busy with fucking you and making out with Hongjoong

Your fuck session went on for another hour you cumming five times

All of them as they reach their high tried to cum inside and on your face

After fucking you they cleaned you up and rested you in your room

"So what's the plan?" San asked

"We keep him" Hongjoong said

"What if he hates us for doing all those?" Yeosang said worried

"Then let's be nicer, No more pranks, No more demands, let's have him as our boyfriend" Seonghwa said

"All eight of us?" Jongho said

"Why not right?" Woo said

"Ok then let's be nicer" Yunho said

Ever since that day the boys were well behaved, all of them listened to you, they bought you gifts and started being touchy

Casually they would gang bang you but sometimes on tour you get used like a clock sleeve by who ever needs to release

—

A/N: This was a draft from 3 years ago, I wrote this during the pandemic but I never actually continued it till now, but since I wanted to get this out there I finished it, also as a thank you for 200 followers!!! This is just a little gift for all of you readers! Hope you enjoy this

[lizzy06]

Shinsou Hitoshi x Reader Fics Recs!! (Tumblr/Ao3/Wattpad)

My Hero Academia Fic Rec Masterlist

ab intra ✨✨💖💖by andypantsx3 (humor, eventual smut, brainwashing)when a wave of disturbing crimes sweep the city, pro hero Hitoshi Shinsou is assigned to work the case with you. What's even more frustrating than his obnoxious personality is the fact no one will tell you why he’s involved. Things only get more suspicious from there.[COMPLETED]

no grave to hold my body down✨ by Hawnks (supermintfluff) (oneshot, hurt/comfort) Kindness is its own superpower. Love is, too.[COMPLETED]

Jealousy✨ by @alienaiver (oneshot, fluffy banter)Shinsou wants your attention after coming home, but you are preoccupied.[COMPLETED]

 The Sports Festival✨ by @writing-freak(oneshot, fluff) reader with a weather quirk faces off against shinsou in the sports festival[COMPLETED] pt 2: Parties for No One ✨by @writing-freak (oneshot, fluff)you consider approaching shinsou after the sports festival. an unlikely friendship commences. [COMPLETED]

Why aren't you scared of me? by @bakugohoex (oneshot, slight angst, fluff)in which shinso joins class 1a and whilst everybody seems to be scared of him out of fear he’ll use his quirk, you try to befriend the boy and he develops feelings as soon as you talk to him.[COMPLETED]

Diary by @onyxiana-is-obsessed (oneshot, fluff)Shinsou finds your diary where you’ve written way too much about him. Good thing he feels the same way.[COMPLETED]

Speechless by @alaskamonsters (oneshot, first meetings)[COMPLETED]

18 by @songbirdsingingthings (oneshot, jealousy, fluff) .[COMPLETED]

how to start an office romance✨ by animepseud (multipurposeroom) (fluff, humor, angst, slowburn)When a serial killer shows up to terrorise the neighbourhood, who do you call? According to the neighbourhood, not Shinsou.is there a better time to pursue romance than in the midst of a serial killing investigation?[COMPLETED]

Friendly Reminders & Math Equations✨ by kingyohno (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff)What one person writes on their skin also appears on the skin of their soulmate. Reader is forgetful and Shinsou is bored. Awkwardness ensues.[COMPLETED]

lilac eyes | shinsou x reader✨ by personb (strangers to lovers, fluff, angst)You just wanted to live for one night at a party with Jirou, though it seemed your night was going to be far more eventful than you anticipated. And you welcomed it, well him at least, with open arms. And to be fair he was very, very hot.[COMPLETED]

Your name on my skin✨  by  @dira333 / Fogfire (oneshot, soulmate au, )What your soulmate writes appears on your skin.[COMPLETED]

Two mind related quirk users walk into a train  ✨ ✨ by  wotefokizbrunch (oneshot, mindreader! reader, humor)When Shinso is sleep deprived his inner monologue just rambles non-stop and you, being a mindreader, find it hilarious.[COMPLETED]

Heart & Mind ✨ by orphan_account (oneshot, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort)You have trouble finding a sparring partner because of your Quirk. Few are willing to have their emotions manipulated, after all.[COMPLETED]

Love at First Sight by ScatteredScribbles (oneshot, fluff, coffee shop au, love at first sight) Even though Shinso knows better, some part of him still wants to believe it’s possible–that there’s a single person in the world made for him, and they’re lounging about in the coffee shop he works at.[COMPLETED]

Just Say It by @sunnieskies02 (oneshot, soulmate au, hanahaki disease, slight angst with happy ending) [COMPLETED]

Show Me by hunnybby(oneshot, crush, fluff, humor) Shinsou Hitoshi's classmate just won't leave him alone. If she wanted to know his quirk so bad then she should have paid attention.[COMPLETED]

We Really Need To Stop Meeting Like This by spicyNess (oneshot, tooth rooting fluff, crush)The more you bumped into him, the more you wanted to.[COMPLETED]

Late Night Visits by candlelight27 (oneshot, college au, fluff, smut, idiots in love)A not-so-innocent game of truth and dare and all your conspiring friends might give you an opportunity to sort out the feelings you have for your best friend, Hitoshi Shinsou.[COMPLETED]

 Heroes Together by @writing-freak(oneshot, fluff)after growing up close friends with shinsou, you are forced to move away and leave your home behind. years later, you return, reunited with the best friend who doesn’t seem to remember you. [COMPLETED]

In All Honesty by Avistella (oneshot, fluff)People have always been wary of talking with Shinsou, but not you. When you start distancing yourself from him, Shinsou becomes worried.[COMPLETED]

Chocolate kisses and Catpuccinos by HydrangeaPartridge (coffee shop au, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, smut)In which you are an accident prone-waitress in a cat café where Pro Hero MindJack (aka Shinso Hitoshi) likes to spend time. How will your relationship evolve through the four seasons of one year?[COMPLETED]

[sinofwriting]

lover - Oscar Piastri

Words: 2,958 Summary: Press and fans find out during the Australian GP that Oscar isn’t single, in fact he is married. The more troubling part is the rest of the grid finding that out as well. Note(s)/Warning(s): Some drivers aren’t portrayed greatly in this, not because I don’t love them, but because they're a bit dumb and stupid. Some interesting thoughts about Lando and Max and Mclaren and Red Bull. Some angst. Logan is protective of Oscar and Oscar’s wife (his self proclaimed little sister). Slight NSFW at the end. Once again stating that I love all the drivers mentioned and written in this fic. (If anyone is interested in knowing more about my thoughts on the whole Lando, Mclaren, Max, Red Bull thing, send me an ask.)

Masterlist | Support Me! | lover verse

“Hey, Apples.” Oscar greets when he picks up the phone. “Os,” He frowns, stopping in his steps, ignoring how Lando is trying to wave him over for something. “What’s wrong?” She sighs, “You know how I said I wouldn’t get lost?” He breathes a sigh of relief that it's nothing serious, smiling again. “Lando’s trying to get my attention for something, but I’ll text Logan to get you. That okay?” “Yeah. I’ve missed our American boy.” Oscar scoffs, “you’ve missed him. I’ve had to deal with him.” She laughs, “Uh huh. I’ll let you go, but have fun talking to Lando. I’ll see you later, Os.” “Later, Apples.”

Ending the call, he quickly messages Logan. The message brief and he’s not surprised when the American driver sends back quickly a simple thumbs up.

“What’s up, Lando?” He asks, when he finally gets close enough to his teammate. “You’re married?” Oscar blinks at the British driver. This is what Lando had been waving him over for? Something he already knew. “Yeah. Have been.” His eyebrows press together. “Are you alright? Hit your head or something?” “No!” Lando shrieks, making him jump back. “You’re married. When did that happen?”

His shriek and loud words catch a few other drivers' attention and before Oscar can process it, he has Charles, George, Checo, Mick, and Lance also surrounding him, asking him if he’s really married.

The repeated question has him blinking widely, wondering if there’s something in the air that’s making them all have memory loss.

“Yes, I’m married. Why are you guys acting like this is new news?” “Non.” Charles says, eyes wide. “You can’t be married. You are a baby. Younger than Arthur.” He rolls his eyes at the words. “Fuck off, mate. I’m not a baby.” Charles pouts. “But you are so young to be married.” Oscar’s nose wrinkles at the words, lips pressing together. “Right.” He nods, holding back what he wants to say. “I don't know what to tell you guys. I’m married and I thought you guys knew.” George scoffs, “none of us had any idea. And twitter is going crazy, mate.” “What do you mean twitter? I’ve been married since I was eighteen. This isn’t a new thing.” “Eighteen!” Oscar nearly throws his hands in the air. “How did not one of you know? It’s public knowledge. Like all marriages.” He doesn’t mention the fact that he has definitely mentioned his wife in infront of all the drivers, they all obviously had trouble listening. Lando flushes, “I mean, you don’t really talk about yourself. So, I guess it just never got brought up?” He offers, though it feels a little weak and Lando can’t help but wonder if Oscar had mentioned it but he had just thought that it was a joke or had been tuning him out because it wasn’t team or race related.

“Late congratulations then Oscar. She is here, no?” Checo says. Oscar smiles at the older driver. It had felt odd that he had joined the rest of them, but it was clear he had joined because of the mention of another driver having a wife. They were few and far between. “Yeah, first race weekend this season.” “Give her my congratulations as well.” “I will.” He tells the older driver, watching as he leaves before turning his attention back to the other five.

“I’m private, but I’m not that private, you guys.” He says, and before one of them can say anything an American voice is speaking up from behind him. “Private about what?”

Logan eyes the five drivers surrounding Oscar, nearly cornering him. The girl next to him breath catches a little at the sight and he squeezes her a bit closer before dropping his arm from around her shoulder.

“Everything alright?” He asks, no one having answered his previous question. Oscar turns his head to throw him a grateful look before completely turning around seeing the girl beside him, a smile blooming across his face. “Logan find you okay?” He can see from the corner of his eye, her nod shyly, fidgeting under the stares of five complete strangers and Logan gives the girl he considers a little sister a light push to Oscar. Knowing that they’ll both feel better with some contact.

Logan turns his head to face her when she gives a light tug to his shirt and he easily tilts his head a little downwards to receive the kiss on the cheek she gives as silent thanks, trying not to smirk at the wide eyed looks the other drivers are giving him. He turns his head back to face them, when she joins Oscar, the youngest driver on the grid, easily wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close, though keeping her slightly tucked behind him.

“No one knew I was married.” Oscar tells him, answering his question from before. Logan’s eyebrows furrow. “What? It’s public knowledge.” He shrugs, “twitter is apparently going nuts. No one knew.” He then nods his head towards the five drivers in front of them. “Including other drivers.” He scoffs, “that’s a joke right?” None of them say anything and Logan can feel a simmer of anger starting in his gut. “Seriously. I’ve heard him mention her when all the drivers were around. Mark made a joke at the first race about him being married.”

No one of them say anything to that and Logan can feel his eyes narrow seeing Lando and George exchange a quick look.

It wasn’t necessarily surprising to hear that people on twitter were freaking out about it. It wasn’t something that first came up when you searched Oscar Piastri. But for not one of the drivers to know? Especially after hearing Oscar mention her? Mark make a joke about it? It rubbed him the wrong way.

He wondered if it was because when they all did a quick google on Oscar nothing about him being married came up. A combination of money buying a little privacy, though not enough to bury or hide a public marriage, and how private Oscar was as a person. He didn’t like talking about himself, was a little hard to make friends with unless effort was really put in or you were around him often enough. He also doubted that any of the drivers had really tried to get to know him due to the whole McLaren thing and the Alpine drama of last year. They only knew so much about Logan because everything was online about him, a problem with too much money, and he was willing to play into the whole about himself American persona.

It also makes him wonder if Oscar had been lying when he said that Lando and him were getting along. It was still early days, but for Lando not to know that Oscar was married? It spelled something that Logan didn’t like and the thought of Max not being the only teammate killer crosses his mind before he can stop it and he shakes his head. It was far too early for that and unfair to both Max and Lando. They weren’t the true issues or at least at the moment in Logan’s eyes Max wasn’t, their teams were.

Logan shakes his head at the silence from the other drivers still. He didn’t know what to say. Other than he wanted to tell them all to get their ears fucking checked. But he holds his tongue.

“Well now you guys know.” He tells them after another moment of silence. “This is Y/N, Oscar’s wife. And you already know all these guys.” She nods, giving them a small wave that Lance and Mick return before quickly walking away with quiet apologies. “You are a baby as well.” Charles says, eyes widening right after, clearly not having meant to say that. She looks at Oscar and then Logan. “I thought you guys said that Arthur was worse than him.” Logan laughs at the way Charles looks offended, mouth open in shock. “Charles has his moments.” Feeling a slight tug to his hoodie, Oscar gives a nod to his teammate and the other two drivers. “We have to get going. Talk to you tomorrow.” He tells them, before stepping away, knowing that Logan is following just barely not on their heels.

Logan and her both hang outside of the McLaren headquarters for the weekend, waiting for Oscar to come back from a quick talk with his race engineer.

“Lando.” She begins and she can feel Logan’s full attention on her. “Do I need to worry?” “Everyone likes him. He’s likable.” He tells her, trying to ignore what she’s getting at. Doesn’t want to think about the thought that popped into his head barely fifteen minutes ago. “Logan,” Her voice is a little harsh. “Do I need to worry about Oscar being teammates with him? We all saw what happened with Daniel at least with what the media said. And I’m grateful that McLaren gave Oscar one of his dreams. But do I need to worry that they will ruin him for Lando?” He can’t make his eyes meet hers, can’t when he can’t give her a sure answer. “I don’t know. Lando to McLaren is like Charles to Ferrari nearly, just not as predestined, I guess.” The words are sour sounding. “He still has good relationships with Daniel and Carlos.” “Max is called a teammate killer and he’s got a great relationship with Daniel. A fair one with Alex according to your texts. And we all know that it’s not him, but Red Bull that’s the killer.” He can’t help but glance around despite their whispers, wincing as she repeats his thought from earlier of Lando being perceived as a teammate killer. This really wasn’t the place to have this conversation, but he understood her need for some sort of answer. “I don’t know.” He repeats. “It’s still early. I want to say that McLaren will be fair to Oscar and treat him well, won’t treat him like a second class driver, but after them breaking a contract with Daniel.” He swallows harshly. “I don’t know.” And he hates that.

Getting into Formula 1, getting the chance that nearly all drivers dreamed of but only some got was supposed to be fun. Sure there was always going to be pressure and stress, but no one had warned him about the politics of it all.

“Okay,” she tells him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug and he can’t help but rest his head on her shoulder. Letting her bear his weight for a moment. “It’ll be okay Logan. And thank you.” “Of course.” He mumbles. And suddenly there’s another set of arms wrapping around him and her. He only doesn’t move or lift his head because he knows those arms and there’s an Australian accent in his ears.

“You alright, Logan?” He lifts his head to nod, not wanting to hurt her. “Yeah, just stress.” He squeezes them both a little tighter. “Can say that again.” Logan smirks, beginning to open his mouth but then a finger is poking between his ribs and he’s jumping out of the hug, rubbing at the spot with a pout. “Hey!” She shakes her head at him, pressing closer to Oscar as he presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Don’t get cheeky. You still coming to dinner with us?” Logan scoffs, “Of course. I’m not missing out on seeing Nicole and Chris.” “My parents will be there as well.” Logan throws his hands in the air, starting to walk backwards. “Why are we still here then?”

“Still missed him?” Oscar asks her as they start to follow him. She laughs at the dry but teasing tone. “Of course. He’s a great older brother.” “He is, isn’t he?” He has a put on suffering face, but there’s a fondness in his eyes as he looks ahead to where Logan is. “He is.”

“Is everything alright?” He asks, slowing their pace a bit more. She hesitates. “We’ll talk about it after dinner, but it should be.” His brows furrow at the response and he can’t help but squeeze her closer. “Are you okay?” “I’m all good, Os. Just worrying.” “Promise?” “Promise.”

—

“You’re worried.” He brings up nearly five hours later as they soak in the bath together, her back to his chest, his fingers interlaced, hands resting on her stomach and her hands resting on top of his. He can feel her breathing stutter and his heart clenches inside of his chest at the reaction. She had always been a bit of a worrier. He wasn’t exactly sure where she got it from, no siblings to inherit the trait from and her parents were fairly laid back. But this seemed different, more serious. “I had some thoughts about McLaren. I needed to talk to Logan about them. He had some of the same ones.” “Like?” She pauses, lips pressing together for a moment. “McLaren gave you your dream.” “One of my dreams.” He corrects her, picking up her left hand and pressing a kiss to her ring finger. Her wedding band and ring sitting on the bathroom counter instead of being where they belong. “One of your dreams.” She corrects. “They clearly favor Lando.” His hand and hers settling back where they were. “Lando’s an experienced driver, Apples.” he lets out a small laugh. “It’s only my first season. I’m a rookie.” “Oscar,” she turns slightly to look at him. “Daniel was a more experienced driver. He even got them their first win in how many years and look what they did to him?” He winces at the reminder. It would always slightly haunt him that the only reason he had a seat at McLaren is because they tossed Daniel like trash practically. Didn’t sit right with him and suddenly the solemness on her and Logan’s faces earlier made sense. “You two think they’ll do the same to me?” “I think that as long as Lando gives them some sort of positive result he’ll always be their number one. Even if you perform better.” He swallows at the words, because fuck it was looking like that wasn’t it?

Lando was a great driver, amazing, Oscar was thrilled to get to be his teammate and learn from him. But Daniel had pulled results from the McLaren, even if he hadn’t gotten as much as Lando did from it last season. It made no sense to get rid of an experienced driver or push him aside for a younger driver that would have years more left on the grid. And as he sits thinking about it, he’s reminded of how much last season McLaren put Lando first over Daniel, despite Daniel having a better chance or opportunity. Remembers some of the races he attended seeing Daniel’s frustrated, tired face as he got out of the car.

“You think Lando’s going to get called a teammate killer?” He knew her mind, knew it wasn’t a far stretch considering how Carlos was perceived at Ferrari and how Daniel wasn’t even racing this season. “I think that if people are willing to call Max one when Red Bull is clearly the problem, it’s a miracle that he hasn’t been called it already.” “Fuck.” He whispers, dropping his head to rest it on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.” She whispers and he lifts his head back up. “Don’t. We’re a team. This would have driven you mad keeping it to yourself.” It was a lot, but he was thankful it was being brought up now. Gave him more time. And god he’d have to bring it up with Mark. He could only imagine that the man would want to talk to her. Mark had always appreciated her thoughts and knew that they were a team. He didn’t just bring things to him, but to her as well.

“Charles doesn’t like me, I think.” Oscar can’t help but laugh. The tension that had filled the bathroom, leaving. “You did say that he was worse than Arthur.” “In that moment he was.” She defends and he presses a kiss to her cheek, still laughing. “Once he gets over being told he’s worse than Arthur, he’ll like you just fine.” “Think so?” “Know so.” He corrects. “Not many people dislike you, Apples.” “But you like me best.” She says, smiling. “Like you best and love you best. Love you so much.” He murmurs before pressing a series of kisses to her cheek making her giggle and then squealing when he manhandles her until she’s facing him, straddling him.

“Hi, Apples.” She beams at him and he can’t help but swallow at the brightness of her eyes. “Hi, Os.” “You ready for bed?” She lets out a little hum, wiggling her hips and his hands grasp at her waist, the lust that had started to simmer inside of him when he had turned her around growing at the pressure against his dick. “You have a race tomorrow.” “Is that a no?” “We haven’t had sex during a race weekend in over a year now. Don’t want you to be tired tomorrow.” “I’ll be alright.” He tells her, pressing her down a bit and can see the way her eyes dilate at the feeling of him growing hard underneath her. “Might even make me place higher.” “Well, only if you think it’ll make you place higher.” She teases and he can’t help but lean forward and kiss her.

She sighs into it, pressing closer to him, chests touching as he bites gently at her lip. “I’ve missed you.” She breathes when they separate, her eyes on the slight flushed face of her husband. “I’ve missed you too.”

---

Tagging: @ireadthensuetheauthors @copper-boom @lpab @gemofthenight @peachiicherries

[neteyamsheart]

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 – 𝐃. 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘰 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘰𝘺 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘰 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘰𝘺, 𝘈𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢 𝘎𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k

𝐓𝐖: 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘋𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘔𝘢𝘺, 𝘈𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢 𝘎𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴'𝘴 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘰 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘰𝘺, 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘯. 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘥𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳: 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘰'𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘵.

It was difficult. Difficult for Malfoy's wife, Astoria Greengrass, to understand her husbands withdrawal–the lifeless look in his eyes, the loss of appetite–every May, around the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts 3 years ago.

Typically, he was the loving and devoted husband she adored: bringing her favorite flowers after long days of work, listening patiently to her rambles, and reciprocating her affection.

But during May, he became a completely different person, haunted by the day he ended up losing you.

–

Astoria vividly remembered the first time she had met him, as a young girl visiting the Malfoy estate with her family. Coming from a pure-blood family, she often attended these meetings though they were extremely boring.

That day, her mother was awfully anxious, reminding her, "Darling, remember to speak nicely and become friends with their son, Draco," whilst nervously adjusting her black gloves.

Her father, far more relaxed, greeted the Malfoys like old friends, immediately sparking a discussion of the Ministry's troubles as her mother was swept away by Narcissa to discuss recent pure-blood marriages.

Feeling out of place, Astoria stood awkwardly by her sister as the manor's grand doors closed behind them. The Malfoy manor being too cold and empty, much to her disliking. It was the complete opposite at her home which was fully encompassed in warmth and comfort.

"Astoria, I'll be a moment," Daphne, her older sister, suddenly said, nudging her forward, "Find something to do. I'll be there later when mother calls for dinner".

Astoria nodded slowly and began to wander aimlessly through the manor, just passing through the living room before a sharp voice stopped her.

"Greengrass, what are you doing just wandering about."

Astoria turned to see platinum blonde hair, a boy older than her, staring at her blankly with piercing gray eyes–an air of entitlement surrounding him. Her heart raced as she stood frozen, being drawn into the intensity of his gaze and his alluring confidence as he leaned against the doorframe, a flutter of excitement igniting in her chest.

Then, it immediately dawned on her who he was.

Draco Malfoy, the boy her mother encouraged her to be friendly with.

She watched his expression contort into a mixture of curiosity and annoyance, hinting at the layer of arrogance that she had heard so much about from others. But in that instant, time stood still, and the feeling as though a spark had been ignited made Astoria realize this was more than a passing attraction–something profound.

The beginning of her journey to falling in love with Draco Malfoy.

–

When Astoria became a 1st Year at Hogwarts, Draco was in his 3rd year and Daphne was in her second. Having not seen the older boy for a while due to school at Hogwarts, she was excited to see him again in hopes that they would kindle a strong friendship and possibly something more.

But her hopes were short-lived when she learned of you, and your relation with Draco.

You were a Slytherin, like him in your 3rd year, but unlike many in your house, you were more kind-hearted and well-liked by many of the students. Never once did you trample on others or comment negatively about other students.

Yet, at the same time, you were just like the other Slytherins. You were prideful, loyal, and cunning when you needed to be.

So to many, it was a surprise knowing that you were one of Draco Malfoy's closest friends. Though the two of you weren't especially close during your first year, over time your bond deepened and the two of you developed an unspoken understanding of each other.

You knew each other so well to the point where words became unnecessary, communicating effortlessly through shared glances and gestures. This unspoken language was enough to convey everything the other was feeling.

So, every day to Astoria, watching the closeness between you and Draco was unbearable and incredibly difficult. But, she never stopped trying to achieve that same level of closeness with him: inviting him to study sessions, engaging in Slytherin's Quidditch Practices and cheering loudly for him during games to receive a smug smile from him whenever he noticed her in the stands.

However, she quickly began to realize that all of this was futile. Why would anything she do matter when he had you?

You, who never needed to ask him to participate in activities. You, whom he had invited to the Yule Ball and asked to accompany him on every Hogsmeade trip–always remembering to buy you your favorite candy from HoneyDukes. You, who he was always side by side with, chatting and laughing so carefreely.

You, who brought out a different side to that arrogant, prideful boy–wiping away the familiar sneering and haughty look from his oh-so-handsome face.

Astoria was jealous of you. Extremely jealous. It was so painful for her to watch from the sidelines, feeling no matter how much she liked Draco, you would always come first.

There were times she often wondered if there would ever be room in his heart for someone other than you. Would she be overshadowed by your connection? Would he still think of you when spending time with her?

She'd figure that out soon enough. Even when she would find herself in rare moments with Draco, talking about their similarities, she could see him peeking over her shoulder in the library to stare at your figure as you laughed with friends from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor.

It was then that she knew, you would always be the center of his attention.

–

During the final moments of the Battle of Hogwarts, Astoria frantically looked around for Draco and Daphne.

Despite knowing he was on the Dark Lord's side, she still loved him dearly, harboring the same emotions she felt ever since she was a little girl.

But as she turned the corner, she saw Draco kneeling over you, as if the two of you were in your own little bubble. His body trembled violently as he cradled you so gently, grasping at your figure with such a tightness as if he never wanted to let you go.

All the chaos of the battlefield began to fade out as Astoria watched Draco whisper soft words to you–words she couldn't hear but feel in her bones and soul–as you looked up at him hopelessly with a sad smile on your face.

Tears streamed endlessly down Draco's face as your lungs tightened and your eyes began to close; Astoria slowly saw Draco reveal a vulnerability he rarely ever showed–so different from his typical cold demeanor.

She watched silently, remaining unnoticed, as tears brimmed in her eyes watching the melancholy scene unfold in front of her. Oh, how she wished it was her he was crying over.

Draco hadn't taken notice of her until he lifted your body carefully in his arms, facing Astoria with a raw look in his eyes clearly filled with love and heartbreak.

Astoria's heart ached.

This was something she'd never seen before. Something she knew only belonged to you.

–

Since then, Astoria had always known: she was simply a placeholder of you.

Still, she had hopes of being capable of taking your position.

She chose to pursue Draco, somehow becoming his "girlfriend" a year after the Battle of Hogwarts, and his "wife" two years after.

But deep down, they both knew that titles like "wife" and "girlfriend" carried little meaning in the shadow of his true love for you.

But Astoria wanted to be selfish. She chose to put her desires first.

So despite knowing that if you were still alive, Draco would leap into your arms, abandoning the life Astoria and he had built just to be with you again, She didn't care.

So, every May, Astoria chose to be reminded of your significance to Draco.

She chose to hopelessly cling onto an opportunity that would never come–the chance to be Draco Malfoy's true love, one that would forever belong to you.

Authors Note: my first fic ever! please enjoy <3 also GUYS PLS IGNORE MISTAKES IM FIXING THEMMM AS WE SPEAK

divider creds:: @issysh3ll

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Joel Miller X Reader: A way to quiet the mind

Warnings: Smut, blowjob, dirty talk, use of pet names, sexual content, masturbation, description of sexual relations, cum eating, Oral(Female and Male receiving), creampie, penetration (p in v ), unprotected sex, swearing, rough sex, after care, fluff.

Summary: You are having trouble sleeping and Joel decides to help you out.

Word count: 2,8K

This was beyond stupid.

You shouldn’t be feeling like this, not with everything that was going on. What type of fucking person gets horny in the middle of an outbreak? It was a natural feeling, you knew that but you couldn’t help cursing your body for being so good damn needy. This is what happens when you have time to start thinking about things in peace, you start feeling things. 

Ever since the outbreak you hadn’t really had enough calm to think about your “bodies needs” your mind was too busy wondering if you’d survive until the next day to worry about something like that. But since last week you and Joel had found yourselves in a less infectaed area which meant you could relax a bit. You’d found a house that actually had beds that weren’t completely broken and covered in dirt and dust and decided it was safe enough to get a night's sleep. Bad idea. The whole “homey” atmosphere was what was igniting the burning in between your legs. You were sure if you were lying in a ditch instead your brain would be filled with other thoughts. Or maybe not. It didn’t matter in the end, after all this was your reality. Horny in and apocalypse, who would have fucking guessed. 

You let out a sigh of discomfort, turning to lay on your back. You could hear Joel's breathing a couple of steps away, causing you to look over at him. You admired his frame move as he breathed, his muscles shifting with the action. Dammit why did he have to take his shirt off to sleep. The sight of him bare wasn’t helping you situation. You let out a grunt trying to think of your options. You could try to get some sleep but you knew that would be impossible. And faking that you’d slept through the night would be a waste of a good mattress. The first good mattress you’d had available for a good while and maybe the last good mattress you’d have for a long time. You glanced at Joel one last time. Despite everything, that man slept like a rock. You made up your mind, you'd make it quick and once you were satisfied you’d go to sleep. Easy peasy. 

You pushed your hand inside your shots, slipping a finger between your folds and playing with your wetness before pushing a finger inside. You let out a sigh of relief as your body got what it had been wanting. Your eyes went over to where Joel was, trying to see if he’d moved at your noise. The man was in deep sleep so you continued your actions, your eyes closing as your mind conjured a little fantasy for yourself. Images of Joel flashed through your brain. The sound of his voice against your ear, the feeling of his body pressed against yours, his gorgeous smile, the way his muscles flexed when he shot a gun. All of these images combined only helped your arousal, your lips leaving a small gasp of Joels name as you moved your fingers faster. You didn’t think it was an issue, you were being quiet and Joel was asleep. 

Or so you thought.

Across the room Joel was wide awake, his body rigid as he tried not to move. He’d woken up at the sound of you sturing in bed. He had been about to turn and call you when you let out a moan of his name. His eyes had widened at the sound, realisation hitting him like a stone. You were getting off. At the thought of him no less. Joel had always found you attractive and he knew that you weren’t opposed to the sight of him. He’d often flush at you calling him a ‘pretty boy’ whenever he scored a shot. He flirted with you and you flirted back but he always assumed it was friendly. You only had each other and Joel doubted you’d see him in a more romantic manner. Neither of you had time for that but humans will be humans. And, whether he’d admit it or not, humans developed feelings for people they found themselves around constantly. So it shouldn’t have surprised him to hear you moaning his name as you tried to get yourself some release but nevertheless it did. Joel could feel the boner forming in his pants, the jean material making it quite uncomfortable. You let out a louder moan and Joel felt himself twitch.

“God damn.”

He’d often wondered what you would sound like. His imagination had nothing on the noises you were making. Joel knew it was risky but he wanted to look at you. A quick glance would do it. Oh was he wrong. The moment he turned to face you, his eyes being greeted by the sight of your body sprawled on the bed, your hand inside your shorts as the other played with your breasts he knew that looking wasn’t going to cut it anymore, he needed to feel you. Needed to make you scream. And that is exactly what he planned to do. 

You didn't hear him get up, had no idea Joel was awake, your mind so foggy with your oncoming orgasm you didn’t even register the presence beside you until Joel's hands made their way onto your wrist. Your eyes snapped open at the feeling of skin on yours. The moment you saw Joel's face you turned crimson red, your hand hulting its movements.

“Joel when did-”

“Shh. Keep going.”

You had to be dreaming, this couldn’t be happening.

“Here let me help.”

You let Joel tug at your arm, removing your hand from its position and replacing it with his own. Joel let out a moan at the feeling of how wet you were.

“God damn babygirl you're soaked.”

“Uhh Joel.”

Joel's ears perked up at the sound of you moaning his name, his fingers sliding into your hole in an attempt to make you let out another moan. To his delight you squealed at the motion, your hand latching onto his arm. 

“Jesus Joel right there!”

“You like that baby?”

“Uhuhmmm”

Your hips bucked up to meet Joel's movements, your body searching desperately for release. You could feel the coil tightening inside your stomach. Joel could tell you were close by how hard you were clamping down on his fingers and as much as he’d love to see you fall apart there was something he needed to do. You whined as Joel stopped moving his fingers before removing them completely. You stared angrily at the older man, your mouth opening to complain but closing upon his words.

“Take your shorts off.”

You looked at him in confusion.

“Take them off. Now.”

You did as you were told, removing your shorts which left you only in your underwear. It wasn’t anything special but the sight of your bare skin was enough to drive Joel wild. He hooked his fingers on your panties tugging them down in a quick motion before kneeling down and tugging your body closer to the edge of the bed. It was then that you realised what he was about to do. Joel, this big hunk of a man, was about to eat you out like a starved man and god you could have cum just at the thought. Not that you needed to think for too long because a second later Joel had delved into your pussy, his tongue lapping at your folds as you screamed out.

“Shit! Joel-uhh- fuck.”

Joel's hands gripped onto your thighs for dear life. It had been so long since he’d had the pleasure of eating someone out and the fact that it was you only made it better. His dick pulsed in his pants but he’d deal with that later, right now he needed to make you cum. You weaved your hands into his hair eliciting a groan from him. Ah, so he likes it rough. You could deal with rough. Joel's nose bumped into your clit as he moved his head making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Joel, do that again.”

You didn't have to ask him twice. Joel repeated the action and just like that your orgasm ripped through your body.

“Ahh Joel!”

As you recovered from your orgasm Joel kept lapping at your cunt, small moans leaving his lips as he did so. You had to tug him off of you, the overstimulation making you sensitive. Joel closed his eyes as you tugged at his hair a groan of pleasure leaving his mouth. He looked fucking wreaked. Your cum was all over his chin covering his beard. You’d be lying if the sight didn’t make you even wetter. Before you could think properly you were dragging him up by the chin, your free hand looping into this pant buckle as you dragged him on top of you. You lips crashed into his, the taste of your juices filling your mouth as the two of you shared a sloppy kiss. Joel couldn’t help but grind against your thigh, his hard on making it difficult to think straight. You got the message your hand finding its way to grope him through his jeans.

“Your turn, pretty boy.”

Joel shivered as you whispered in his ear, his dick twitching in anticipation. You pushed Joel off of you with a shove of your foot. He looked at you as he took him in. Gosh he was beautiful.

“Stip.”

Joel rushed to get his jeans off, his despair causing him to tug his boxers down along with them. His dick sprung free, the tip dripping pre-cum. You looked at his member bob, your mouth salivating at the size. You pushed yourself up from the bed, your hands grabbing the hem of your shirt and tugging it off before making your way to Joel. You watched Joel take a deep breath in as he watched you, his hands clenching and unclenching at his side. You gave him a sly smile, your hands going onto his chest as you explored his bare skin. Joel watched as you sank to your knees in front of him, his hands instinctively grabbing your hair into a ponytail. You smirked up at him enjoying the way his adams apple bobbed in anticipation.

“Don’t hold back on me big boy. Be as rough as you’d like.”

You paused for a moment to kitten lick the head of Joel's shaft.

“I can take it.”

Upon your words Joel wasted no time pushing his dick into your open mouth, a moan leaving his mouth as your warm lips engulfed his pulsing cock. You relaxed your jaw trying to take as much of him as you could. Joel looked down at you as you gaged lightly, the sight of you making his hips buck faster. Your hands found his balls and began to toy with them.

“Shit baby.”

Joel threw his head back with a groan. He wasn’t going to last long if you kept going. You took a deep breath in as Joel pulled you off his shaft.

“Everything okay, pretty boy?”

“Won’t last if you keep going baby. Your mouth feels too good.”

“But isn’t that the point?”

“Yeah but i wanna fuck that pussy of yours, darling.”

Your thighs pressed together as Joel's words. As much as you’d love to have Joel buried inside of you it didn’t seem fair to you that he’d brought you to heaven using his mouth and you weren’t going to do the same for him.

“I’m not in a rush.”

Before Joel could retort you latched your mouth onto his dick bobbing your head at a rapid pace as your hands fondled his balls. 

“Ahh-fuck-just like that baby. Such a good girl-shit!”

You smirked at Joel's praise, your tongue searching for the bulging vein you knew had to be nearby. Once you found it you gave him a good lick and just as you did Joel came. You kept your mouth on his dick as his seed slipped out making sure to swallow every drop. Joel dragged you up by the chin, his hands weaving into your hair as he pulled you into a steamy kiss. His tongue prodded at your lips and you opened your mouth for him, your tongues dancing in tandem. Joel pulled your head to the side, his lips latching onto your neck. You were sure there would be hickeys the next morning but you couldn't give a shit. You took Joel's hands into your own, guiding them to cup your breasts. Joel got the message, his fingers tweaking at your nipples which elicited a moan out of you. You didn’t even notice Joel had been guiding you closer to the bed until the back of your knees hit the mattress. You licked a stip down Joels chest before laying down on the bed your legs opening wide. Joel started at your bare cunt a boner forming once again.

“So wet already?”

“It's not my fault you’re so hot.”

Joel laughed at your compliment before crawling on top of your body. His hands caressed your body in search of the parts that made you let out those pretty noises he adored so much. You wrapped your legs around Joel's hips pulling him closer to you. You both let out a moan as his dick pushed against you folds.

“Eager are we?”

“I thought you were the one who wanted to fuck me.”

“I do. But I thought you weren’t in a rush.”

You groaned at Joel's words trying to pull his body more flush to yours.

“That was back when I wanted to give you head. Right now i want you to fuck me so hard i can’t walk.”

You watched as the lust entered Joel's eyes at your words.

“You asked for it. Don't complain later.”

Just as you opened your mouth to speak Joel pushed into you cutting your words off with a moan.

“Ah shit baby. So warm.”

“Ahugh Joel!”

You listened to your pussy squelch as Joel thrusted into you, the heels of your feet pushing against his ass so that he’d go deeper. Joel understood  your request, fastening his thrusts.

“So fucking wet for me. Could live inside this pussy.”

“Who’s stopping you?”

“Ah fuck.”

Your hands yanked at Joel's hair causing the man to moan. He placed one of his hands on the wall for support as he tugged your leg over his shoulder. The new angle hitting a spot inside of you that had you moaning.

“I’m…I’m close!”

“I know, baby I know. Just a little longer.”

Joel latched a hand onto your breast tweaking at your nipple and you were done for. You let out a scream as you came. Joel grunted as he felt your juices cover his cock. 

Your body moved as Joel kept thrusting into you in search of his own high. He glanced down to look at your face. You were so cockdrunk you were practically drooling. His eyes trailed down your body to watch his dick going in and out of your pussy.

“Joel…”

Your moan made him look back up at your face.

“Yeah baby?”

“Hand.”

Joel let you pull his hand away from your breast and drag it closer to your mouth, his eyes looking at you questionly. You pulled two of his fingers into your mouth and sucked. The image brought back the memory of you kneeling between his legs, drool coming out the side of your mouth as you gaged aground his cock. And in that moment Joel was a gone man. He came with a groan, his seed filling you up.

The two of you stayed wrapped around each other's embrace for a moment before Joel got up and made his way to his bag. You pushed yourself onto your elbows to see what he was doing. You watched as Joel pulled out a shirt and water from his bag dunking the cloth in the liquid before coming back to you. 

“Let’s clean you up babygirl.”

You smiled at Joel, opening your legs for him and allowing him to clean the cum off your thighs. He cleaned himself up and joined you on the bed once more, his hands wrapping around your waist. Your eyes closed sleepily, the pent up energy you had finally having been spent. Joel could tell you were about to fall asleep.

“Baby?”

“Hum.”

“Next time you can’t sleep, call me.”

You smiled at the suggestion hidden beneath Joel's kind words.

“I might just have to take you up on that big boy.”

Joel placed a kiss on your head nuzzling into you.

“Night babygirl.”

“Goodnight.”

For what felt like ages you got a full night of sleep. Maybe it hadn’t been a waste of a  good mattress in the end. When you woke the next morning you were delighted to find Joel sleeping next to you. It hadn’t been a dream after all.

[shixcherie]

Damsel In Stress | Jeong Yunho & Song Mingi ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 04 : Bodyguards, Shower Sex

↬ [ Synopsis ] : When your bodyguards, devilishly handsome and undeniably sexy, promise you a night to remember, you take it all in stride. Whether it’s bending the rules or indulging in steamy shower sex, you’re ready to embrace the thrill, surrendering yourself completely to the experience.

Word Count : 3.9k Genre : Smut, Angst, Bodyguard Au. Pairing : Bodyguard! Yunho x F.Reader x Bodyguard! Mingi

WARNINGS : Pure smut, shower sex, double penetration, dom/sub undertones, multiple orgasms, praise, petnames ( doll and princess), playful banter and flirting, big dick agenda, mention of alchol and drug consumption.

Tag list OPEN! - let me know if you want to be tagged for this Kinktober list

☆☆☆ NOTE : Day 4 is here, and this is huge just like our handsome boys, Yunho and Mingi. :P . Hope you enjoy this ma chéries. This story contains themes related to alcohol and drug use. Reader discretion is advised.

“Yunho, ahh... keep going, please don’t stop” you cried as Yunho mercilessly pounded deep into you, his thrusts turning your brain to mush. “So good, princess, taking us so well.”

Us? Did he just say “US”?

“Is this what you wanted, doll?” Mingi's deep voice purred from behind, sending a shiver down your spine. “Feels good, doesn’t it… being taken care of like this?” His words heightened the sensation of being at the mercy of your two deliciously handsome bodyguards.

As you pieced together the situation, it felt messy, thrilling, and was definitely going to be hard to explain to your daddy.

Wait… how did you end up here?

Let’s rewind a bit.

—

Your friends called you “Damsel In Distress” for being daddy’s little princess, constantly getting saved by him and your bodyguards Yunho and Mingi and being the mischievous talk of the town. Causing trouble was not something you chose to indulge in voluntarily; it was just that wherever you went, trouble followed you like a loyal dog following its master.

Coming from an opulent family didn’t help either, because people loved to pick on someone who had everything that they didn’t and couldn’t have. Taking behind your back, purposely messing up your drinks to see daddy’s little princess act crazy, and snatching your boyfriend Mingyu were a few things that you had been dealing with for the past six months. With your best friends turning their backs on you, your situation got a thousand times worse. Bullying turned into actual harassment, and this daddy’s little princess went feral.

Up until a point, you did tolerate it; you got your dead mom’s patience after all. You didn’t want anything from a woman who cheated on your S-tier, greenest of the green flag, ultra pro max gentleman daddy, but fate had a way of shoving things down your throat that you didn’t want to be associated with at all. Hence, you were a spitting image of your mom, but the good thing was you got your dad’s behavior and morals, making you the most loyal person you would ever meet.

You were more like a “Damsel In Stress” after multiple failed relationships and a damaged reputation in university. The only people you could gawk at without getting labeled as a “creep” were your handsome bodyguards, Yunho and Mingi. Tall and handsome with Greek god-ish builds, they made anything in their vicinity appear minuscule, and your 5’3” tall frame didn’t help much.

But where your height lacked, you made up for it with your attitude (short girlies for the win). The last six months were the most nightmarish months of your whole freaking life; getting addicted to substances, smoking weed, and sneaking out at late hours to attend God knows what kind of parties became your choice of escape. Your only option.

These were the only things that somehow filled the empty void, hence your daddy decided to ignore it for a while, as long as you were safely back home at dawn, and Yunho and Mingi, being the most dutiful and uptight bodyguards, made sure of it.

Tonight was different, though.

Why? Because you met this girl online, her name’s Ryujin.

You both clicked instantly, shared similar past troubles, and were freshly single, addicted to drugs. You girlies had been planning a getaway to spend a wild night out.

Ryujin found this party happening a few hours' drive from your mansion, kinda illegal with everything from dangerous drugs to premium liquor available, but promising a wild night.

You needed that.

Hence, you sneaked out again without anyone noticing, not even your bodyguards. You sneakily tranquilized their drinks, hehe, not advisable, but kinda the need of the hour.

Then how did this perfectly well-planned night take such an unexpected turn?

You were here to forget all your sorrows, so why were you lying on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, disgusting, your body so limp it felt like you took a thousand fucking punches, not remembering a single thing? The last thing you remembered was Ryujin crying on her knees beside you, fear calling your bodyguards. Yes, they were saved on speed dial just so you could escape out of situations like these without daddy noticing it.

But what happened with you? Did you drink too much? Ingest something so strong that it blacked you the fuck out?

A thousand questions swirled around your mind as darkness took over. You could feel yourself being picked up off the cold and dirty bathroom floor, Ryujin thanking Yunho as he offered to drop her back home, which she declined sweetly, mentioning she could drive back as she had bought her car and had almost sobered up. Fucking traitor! Why call them?!

Wait, Yunho?! What about your drugged drink? Did it not work on them? Who the fuck is carrying you? Is it Mingi? Not complaining at all; you had dreamt of moments like this.

But when—how did they know—why—what the actual motherfucking fuck is this mess?

Yeah, your intoxicated brain couldn’t handle any more, and you passed out.

When the tiniest consciousness slipped into your brain, you opened your eyes to gaze upon the glorious sight in front of you: fine-as-freaking-wine men driving you somewhere.

“What are you guys doing here?” you asked, even if you knew what was going to come your way. “Aren’t you both supposed to be... umm... sleeping?”

It's our job to take care of you.

“It’s our job to look out for you, doll” Mingi replied with a small smile,just the way you expected, his deep voice slightly registering in your intoxicated mind, and huh, did he just call you doll?

“Sleeping? That’s cute. Aren’t you supposed to be in bed by now, princess?” Yunho asked you, a smug look adorning his face, still not answering your question, his sexy smirk visible from the rearview mirror.

What the fuck with these nicknames?

“Guess the dosage wasn’t strong enough, huh?” Mingi chipped in, his handsome frame in the driver’s seat way too distracting for you to register whatever the fuck he said, something along the lines of dosage being strong.

Huh?! You just got caught. Is there a way out of this? Will daddy find out? Will you be punished?

“He-hehe, what dosage are you talking about?” you nervously laughed, thinking of what to say next.

“Can we not play dumb anymore, princess?” Yunho teased, giving you a look that clearly said daddy’s princess just got caught. “Sorry to disappoint you, but boys don’t take naps on the job.” That sealed the deal for you; even the freaking drug betrayed you.

Your lips formed a thin line, your mind made up that any more excuses you planned on coming up with were not going to work on them anymore. You sighed in defeat, earning a chuckle from both of them.

A piercing silence fell over the car, soon replaced by a thick tension that made you shift uncomfortably in your seat, filthy thoughts flickering through your mind like a movie reel.

Was it the sexual frustration building up over the last six months, or the effects of the intoxication? You couldn’t pinpoint it.

But every time you caught Yunho's intense gaze through the rearview mirror, a jolt ran down your spine, heat pooling low in your stomach. His smirk never faltered, his eyes shifting between you and the road, as if he knew exactly what was running through your head.

Mingi, sitting beside him, wasn’t any less subtle. His broad hand casually rested on the steering wheel, but his eyes would drift toward you whenever he thought you weren’t looking. That small smile from earlier still lingered on his lips, making your pulse quicken. You couldn't shake the way his deep voice wrapped around that nickname, “doll”. It felt too intimate, too... dangerous.

Why were your bodyguards acting up today? Was it the aftereffects of the drug, or perhaps... they did feel some kind of way towards you?

So, it wasn’t just you after all, was it? They had been battling with the same thoughts, the same desire simmering beneath the surface. You could feel it—thick in the air, undeniable. A flush creep up your neck, only heightening the tension.

“What’s wrong, princess? Feeling a little too warm?” Yunho teased, his voice laced with amusement as he noticed the way you shifted in your seat again.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing, but there was no escaping the heat radiating from both of them.

They knew exactly what they were doing to you.

As Mingi turned down a quieter street, the path leading exactly where you feared, their house, your fears were confirmed. Or perhaps, it wasn’t fear at all... but excitement for what was about to come next.

Mingi pulled the car to a stop in front of their house, your pulse quickens heart racing a million miles in equal parts anticipation and fear, as Yunho opened the door for you, his hand reaching out to help you step down. His fingers brushed against your skin, seemingly innocent, but it sent a spark of electricity through your body.

No words were exchanged as they led you inside, the door closing behind you with a soft click. The air was thick with unspoken tension, the kind that had been building for months. You were halfway across the living room when Mingi’s deep voice broke the silence.

“You’re trembling, doll” he murmured, stepping closer. His proximity was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched. “Nervous? Or is it something else?”

Before you could respond, Yunho was behind you, his breath hot against your neck as he leaned in. “You didn’t think you could drug us and just walk away, did you, princess?” His voice was low, teasing, and far too close for your mind to stay clear.

You turned to face him, heart hammering, but the words stuck in your throat as Yunho’s eyes darkened. In one swift motion, his lips claimed yours—demanding, taking what had been simmering between you for far too long. His kiss was messy, mind-numbing, filled with hunger. A hunger you hadn’t fully realized, or maybe one you’d knowingly ignored given the forbidden nature of your relationship with them.

Before you could catch your breath, Mingi was there. His hand gently tilted your chin toward him, his lips hovering over yours as he whispered, “We’re not finished with you yet.” The words sent a shiver through you. And before you could process the weight of them, his mouth was on yours—slow, deliberate, and utterly consuming, like he had all the time in the world.

You were experiencing things you had once only dreamed of, especially given the state of desperation you felt a few months ago. Even though you had deliberately ignored the hints Yunho and Mingi dropped, this moment felt like a culmination of all those unspoken desires.

A wave of validation washed over you, filling your heart with satisfaction as you realized that they shared the same hunger and lust that had been simmering within you for so long.The hunger that had been building for months had finally ignited, and there was no turning back.

As Mingi continued to kiss you, Yunho decided to take over your neck, decorating it with butterfly kisses. “You taste so sweet,princess” he murmured, nipping at your skin, urging pretty moans from you that were muffled by Mingi’s skillful lips.

“Is she always this responsive?” Mingi teased, pulling back slightly to glance at you, his eyes dark with desire. “We could get used to this.”

“Don’t let it go to your head” you shot back playfully, but your breath hitched as Yunho continued his trail of kisses.

Purple marks blossomed along your neck as Yunho explored further, nibbling on your earlobe before kissing you behind the ear. “You’re driving me wild,do you know that ?” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “We might just want to keep you like this forever.”

“Guess I found your sweet spot” Yunho smirked, oblivious to the way your body reacted as he kept kissing and nibbling that delicate area.

“Mhmm… Yunho… don’t stop” you gasped, earning a chuckle from him at the way his name rolled off your tongue. Your hands tangled in Mingi’s hair as he maintained his steamy kiss.

Mingi pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his voice low and husky. “Just imagine what else we can do to you, doll.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it” you chuckled softly, meeting his gaze. With a playful smirk, you added, “Have a feeling you two won’t disappoint me.”

Yunho caught your eye, his grin playful. “You have no idea how much we’ve been wanting this, do you?”

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you teased, “I might have had a hint… but now, I want a full demonstration.” It was true, tensions had always heightened between the three of you. But given the restrictions and the lack of loose moments like this, it had kept you from exploring each other,until now.

Mingi leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll give you a show you won’t forget.”

Mingi's hands found the hem of your top, pulling it up slowly. “Let me take this off for you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as the fabric slipped away, leaving your skin bare to his hungry gaze. His gaze had you wet down south, aching to be touched and devoured.

Yunho stepped closer, his fingers eagerly working on your jeans. “You look incredible, but let’s make it even better, shall we?” he teased, his breath hot against your ear as he slid your jeans down your legs, pooling at your feet.

The cold air making contact with you sent goosebumps all over your body, excitement coursing through you.A faint sound of water running caught your ears—was it the shower? A knowing look spread across your face. Ah, so that’s what these two had been planning.

Quite steamy, you thought, and utterly exciting.

The idea of the three of you under the shower, bodies pressed together, both your holes stuffed to the brim,had your arousal pooling, your core dripping with desire.

“Figured it out already, doll?” Mingi chuckled, a knowing look in his eyes as he glanced toward the bathroom where the water was running.

“Then, princess shall not wait any longer” Yunho added, his voice low and sultry, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

Both of them took your hands, guiding you toward the bathroom. As you stood under the shower, water cascaded down your body, the heat mixing with your own as you surrendered to the moment.

Yunho's hands cupped your breasts, his touch igniting a fire within you. He played with your now-hard nipples as your head rested back on his shoulder, eyes closed, a disheveled mess with your lips caught between your teeth.

Mingi knelt before you, his gaze intense as he admired how the water glistened on your skin. “You’re absolutely breathtaking” he said, his fingers teasingly grazing your inner thighs before moving higher.

Your breath hitched as Mingi's fingers finally found your dripping core, sliding through your folds that left you gasping. “How does that feel, princess?” he asked, looking up at you with a smirk, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“Unbelievably good” you breathed, leaning back against Yunho, who continued to play with your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples, making them harden under his touch.

Mingi’s fingers skillfully explored your slick heat, swirling and teasing, collecting soft moans from your lips. “Cum for us, doll. Just enjoy this moment with us” he whispered, his voice dripping with seduction as he picked up the pace, each back-and-forth movement driving you wild.

Yunho's hands moved from your breasts to your waist, steadying you as Mingi's fingers worked their magic. The tension within you built, a delicious pressure threatening to consume you.

Yunho’s breath was hot against your ear as he kissed the delicate spot, quickening your heart and serving as the final blow that made everything come undone.

With a soft gasp, you surrendered to the waves of pleasure, losing yourself completely in the moment as you released onto Mingi’s fingers.

Your head slumped against Yunho’s shoulder as he held you, and you watched Mingi lick your juices off his chubby fingers before shoving them into Yunho's mouth. The sight in front of you sent butterflies racing in your stomach; watching them taste your slick made your core throb with a desperate need for attention.

Without wasting any more time, Yunho twisted your body toward him, his lips glistening with remnants of your juices as hot water cascaded down his face. His hands pulled you closer, signaling you to jump. You wrapped your legs around his waist, a sense of urgency consuming you. In one swift motion, he thrust his hard, aching length into you, filling you completely.

“God, you feel incredible, baby” Yunho groaned, his eyes dark with lust as he relished the sensation of you around him, your walls hugging him providing a warm yet tempting sensation. He was hungry, yet he held back, waiting for Mingi to join.

Taking the cue, Mingi closed the distance, positioning himself behind you. “You ready for more, doll?” he asked, his voice low and sultry, sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded eagerly, excitement pooling in your stomach.

With a firm grip on your hips, Mingi pressed himself against you, slowly pushing his cock inside your ass. “You’re so tight” he grunted, a mix of pleasure and disbelief in his voice as he slid deeper. “You’re going to feel amazing filled up by both of us.”

The sensation was overwhelming; the hot water, both your holes occupied, and the intoxicating feeling of being completely claimed by both men. You let out a breathy moan, a mix of pleasure and slight discomfort as you adjusted to the sensation.

“I’ve never felt anything like this. Boys, please move.” you gasped but responded to them, your body trembling with delight.

Yunho tightened his grip on you, his thrusts steady and deep, matching Mingi's rhythm as he began to move behind you. “Just relax and let us take care of you” Yunho whispered against your ear, his breath hot and inviting. “You’re going to love this.”

“We’ve got you, princess” Mingi encouraged, his hands finding your waist, guiding your movements as they both took you to new heights of pleasure. “Close your eyes and let loose.”

You obeyed as their pace quickened, drawing a chorus of moans from your lips, leaving you breathless. The overwhelming sensation, mixed with the heat of the water, only heightened your arousal. The boys were just as breathless, groaning with each hard thrust. Mingi's lips parted in a string of "oh my gods" as he pushed deeper inside you. You could feel him on the edge, just like your own release was building to its peak.

Suddenly, Yunho slowed his thrusts, savoring the moment as he realized both you and Mingi were hovering on the edge. “What’s the rush, baby?” he teased, his voice low and sultry. “We want to feel every single second .”

Mingi chuckled, pressing his chest against your back, his hands gripping your hips firmly. “Let’s take our time” he whispered hotly against your ear. “We want to enjoy you completely.”

The change in pace drove you wild, and you squirmed between them, desperate for more. “Please… don’t stop” you gasped, the need overwhelming you.

“Such a needy little thing” Yunho murmured with a wicked grin. “Just the way we like it.” With that, he picked up the pace again, thrusting into you harder, while Mingi added more pressure from behind, teasing and heightening the electric pleasure surging through you.

The urgency in your core built up rapidly. “I’m so close” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut as everything else faded away, only the two of them and the pleasure they gave you remained.

“I can’t hold on much longer, gonna cum.” you gasped, your body trembling between them. An urged need to release and break apart washed over you pushing you more and more and over the edge.

Yunho and Mingi exchanged knowing glances, their thrusts becoming more conssitent and delicious. “Cum for us, doll.” Mingi urged, his sultry voice in your ear. “We’re right there with you.”

With a final deep thrust from Yunho and Mingi's teasing dicks, pleasure crashed over you like a huge wave. A loud moan escaped your lips as your release hit, sending shock waves through your entire body. “Holy fuck”

Feeling you clench around him, Yunho groaned, his grip tightening. Mingi pressed against you from behind, both men overwhelmed by your powerful release had their cocks twitching for a release.

“Damn, you feel incredible” Yunho breathed, thrusting erratically. “We’re right behind you, princess.”

With one last powerful thrust, Yunho filled you, followed by Mingi, their warmth mingling as waves of pleasure crashed over you once more.

As they pulled out, you leaned back against Yunho, feeling blissfully satisfied. “Best shower ever” you murmured, wrapped in the warmth of their embrace

"I can’t hold on much longer,please…aa.aa, gonna cum” you gasped, your body trembling between them. The overwhelming need to release washed over you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Yunho and Mingi exchanged knowing glances, their thrusts becoming more consistent and deliberate. “Cum for us, doll” Mingi urged, his sultry voice in your ear. “We’re right there with you.”

With a final deep thrust from Yunho and Mingi's teasing strokes, pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave. A loud moan escaped your lips as your release hit, sending shockwaves through your entire body. “Holy fuck…”

Feeling you clench around him, Yunho groaned, his grip tightening. Mingi pressed against you from behind, both men overwhelmed by your powerful release, their cocks twitching as they chased their own.

“Damn, you feel incredible” Yunho breathed, thrusting erratically. “We’re right behind you, princess.”

With one last powerful thrust, Yunho spilled into you, followed by Mingi, their warmth mingling as waves of pleasure crashed over you again.

As they pulled out, you leaned back against Yunho, feeling blissfully satisfied. “Best shower ever,” you murmured, wrapped in the warmth of their embrace.

Truly that was the best shower and the best sex ever.

Yunho and Mingi stepped out of the shower, with Yunho carrying you. They took care of you, drying your hair and helping you get dressed before cleaning themselves up. Being taken care of like this was something you hadn’t experienced in a while, and it felt nice, you heart did a happy dance as you smiled at them, soaking their warm energy in.

Once dressed, you and Yunho settled on the living room couch, flipping through random channels on TV. Mingi soon joined, bringing refreshments, and settled on your left. The three of you cuddled on the couch, with you sandwiched between their warm, muscular bodies.

“What about my dad...?” you trailed off, the thought of explaining this to him crossing your mind as he was set to return from his business trip.

“Let’s worry about that later, yeah princess?” Yunho suggested, stealing a quick peck from your lips.

“Let’s just enjoy being together now, doll” Mingi added, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

Yeah that for the future you to worry. We’ll take care of daddy, lets enjoy the present for now.

For Now, Damsel no longer in stress.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.