#especially now as things are really picking up and I have no one to react to

[mrsbarnesblog]

˖˚⊹ old habits

➤ summary: you call Rafe out when he acts disrespectfully

➤ w/c: 1.5k.

➤ warnings: themes of toxic masculinity, emotional confrontation

➤ a/n: really wanted to be a part of @zyafics campaign, and I hope that other writers will consider doing it too <3

masterlist

The thing between you and Rafe was still new and fresh—only a few times going out on dates, lingering touches, and way too many moments that were more than just friendly.

Since the first time you had met him, you thought that he had grown to be a better person. He tried to change some of his old habits to become more mature. And you truly saw that, and it was a reason why you even started to catch feelings. But there were still times when he struggled, when some of the traits of that old toxic Rafe were slipping through, either because it was too hard to control things that he had been taught from a young age or because he truly didn’t see himself being in the wrong. 

That day he invited you to the new cafe near the beach on the mainland, saying that it was the best one. For you, Rafe was a gentleman. He picked you up, helped you to get in and out of his truck, complimented your dress and your hair, and let you hold his upper arm when he was leading you to the entrance.

He opened the door for you, and the place was dimly lit with yellow tones and just radiated warmth. It was a little bit too loud with people sitting everywhere, but if the place was good, you didn’t mind that one bit. You looked back at Rafe, sharing a smile, until the young hostess stepped in front of you. 

“I’m so sorry, but as you may see, we’re full right now. You may sit here until one of the tables is free.” With a polite smile, she gestured to the side. “The waiting time will be around fifteen to twenty minutes, if that’s okay with you.” 

You nodded to her words without hesitation. “That’s totally fine.” 

But beside you, Rafe let out a small breath. Not quite a sigh, more like a scoff. He raised an eyebrow and looked the girl up and down with something colder in his expression than you would’ve preferred.

“You’re telling me you can’t fit two people in? It’s not even full in here.” She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, briefly looking at you to figure out how to react. Rafe’s voice wasn’t loud, but you knew how intimidating and cold he might be, especially to people who were not used to it.

“Rafe.” You said his name sharply, tugging his bicep once in hope that he would let it go. 

He glanced at you, then back at the hostess, not getting the problem that you seemed to have. “We’re literally standing here, dressed nicely, just asking for a table. I’m not trying to be a dick. I'm just saying, you could make it work if you actually wanted to.” You didn’t wait for her to respond. You took a step back, slowly removing your hand from his arm.

“I’ll be outside.” You said. No emotion in your voice, hands already folded across your chest. 

You sat at the bench outside, one leg thrown over another, looking at the ocean and debating just simply going back home. Rafe walked out a few minutes later, with hands buried in the pockets of his pants, looking at you like he genuinely could not understand your behavior. 

“Are you seriously mad at me?”

“I’m not mad. I’m disappointed.” You said calmly, not even sparing him a glance. 

“For what? I didn’t even say anything bad. She was the one who couldn’t do her job properly.”

Your head snapped towards him with eyebrows raised in surprise. “No.” You said sharply, taking him aback. “You were being an asshole because you didn’t get what you wanted. She was doing her job, Rafe.” 

His brows knit. “Jesus, I wasn’t an asshole—I was just calling her out.”

“Calling her out for what, Rafe? For not breaking policy? For not giving you special treatment?” He looked away, jaw clenching. His hand reached his head to rub over his buzzed hair in frustration, while you simply looked at him, seeing the conflict that he had. Part of him clearly knew you were being reasonable, that he might’ve stepped over the line, but the rest of him, the louder part, wanted to be right. Wanted to win.

“I’m not dating someone who thinks talking down to people makes him important.” You said firmly, your voice low and calm but hard to let him know how serious that situation was for you. “That’s not cute. That doesn’t make you look cooler or whatever. That’s not something I tolerate.”

Rafe exhaled hard through his nose, briefly throwing his head back in frustration. “You’re making it sound like I screamed at her or something. I was just—I don’t know—frustrated.”

“Yeah, and she was working. Probably scared of losing her job because of kooks who talk down to her every day. Probably already dealing with a bunch of other men who think that they are better than everyone and that other people owe them something.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t do that.”

You stood up, stepping closer with your heels softly clicking against the wood. You squinted your eyes slightly, tilting your head to the side now that you were almost the same height. “Do what?”

“Make me out to be some kind of monster.”

“I’m not.” You shot back. “But if you don’t like how I make you sound by just talking about your actions, maybe ask yourself why instead of getting defensive.”

The silence that followed stretched long between you. You crossed your arms tighter, mostly to keep yourself from softening, because, God, you wanted to. Because part of you knew that he didn’t mean to hurt anyone, but still addressing the problem was important to prove to him that the said problem existed. 

You watched the gears turning behind his eyes, jaw tight, hands buried deep in his pockets. He looked off toward the ocean like maybe the answer was out there, like it could help him to understand how to break the default settings that were engraved in his brain. 

“I didn’t think it was that bad.” Rafe admitted finally, his voice quieter now, and you could hear the edge of hesitation. “I didn’t even notice I was doing it. That I was acting like…” He trailed off, and you knew what he meant. Like Ward.

“That’s the problem, Rafe.” You said softer now, but still steady. “You don’t even notice when you slip. I know that you’re trying to be better. I see it, but I also need you to acknowledge that sometimes you can still be mean, that sometimes you’re in the wrong. Otherwise we won’t work out.”

He looked at you then, as if hurt for a second, because for the part of him, it sounded like a threat or like a challenge that he didn’t want to accept.

“I don’t want to be that guy.” He said after a moment. “I’ve been trying. You know I have.”

“I know. That’s why I’m still standing here and not leaving.” You stepped closer, but you didn’t reach for him.

“But I’m not going to coach you through being a decent person every time you slip. You have to want it for yourself, not just to keep me happy, because I’m telling you right now, Rafe…” You met his eyes, staying your ground. “If that’s the man you choose to be, I will walk away. Even if I don’t want to.”

His throat bobbed in a nervous swallow, his eyes darted away, then back to yours, as if he was trying to measure if you were bluffing. And when a few seconds passed, when you looked at him steadily, waiting for an answer, he turned and walked back toward the café.

You watched him through the front windows when he hesitated near the hostess stand, tugging awkwardly at the expensive watch on his wrist, and then leaned in to speak to the girl. Her face was surprised at first, then softened as he continued to talk, before she nodded a few times, still slightly hesitant, and said something back to him. 

When Rafe returned back to you, the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease a little bit, though his jaw clenched when he rubbed the back of his neck and stopped in front of you like he wasn’t sure where to begin.

“I apologized. Told her I was out of line.”

You gave him a small nod. “Thank you.”

He shifted on his feet, nervous. “She said the table will be ready in ten.” You nodded again, waiting for him to continue. “You still wanna eat with me?” He asked, almost hesitant, like a boy who'd just been scolded.

“I do.” His lips stretched in a small smile, eyes glimmering with something like surprise and maybe a bit of shyness that you caught every once in a while. Rafe stepped closer, offering you his hand, and you playfully rolled your eyes, smiling back and interlacing your fingers. “Now I’m about to order the whole damn menu, Cameron. And it better be good.” 

[urinarythreatinfection]

Surprise

Shanks x Fem Reader. Smut. 2704 words. Male vers

Desc: You plan a little surprise for your bummed lover.

cw: Lingerie, public-ish sex. unprotected sex. p in v.

You and Shanks don’t get all the time in the world to be able to go on dates, even if pirates are considered to be free. Sure, he has his own treasurer and other crewmates to take care of tedious paperwork, but there are still things that only a Yonko with multiple islands and fleets can do. Managing the crew’s morale, not being far from them, not staying on one island for too long, managing the fleets, avoiding other Yonkos’ territories while moving islands; all of it adds up to a real huge hassle. Now with the new generation there are younger, cockier pirates that try to challenge him too. Even more to manage, which is how the two of you and your date plans got ruined. A young cocky pirate snuck onto one of his territories and caused havoc. Luckily there was a fleet stationed there to avoid casualties but they managed to escape. That means your plans have been cancelled. He’s starting to get really jealous of Luffy and his single crew. The small solace is that the kid will have to learn some responsibility if he really ends up as pirate king, even Roger begrudgingly did in his short time. It’s all been such a bummer for Shanks, and you’ve noticed it as you sail. So what have you decided to do about it?

‘...Maybe this is a bad idea.’ You think to yourself as you stare at the lingerie on the bed. Since your date has been cancelled you’ve decided to try something new, something especially exciting to make up for the ruined plans. You know your husband is very receptive to you, adores you, and is really open to trying… new things; so you came up with a plan. You’ll accompany him to the island meeting, which’ll cheer him up on its own, but you’ll give him a surprise. Lingerie under your clothes and a small vibrator hidden inside you, sending him a risque photo in the middle of the meeting. However, this might be too much even for him. You pick up your little camera snail and the photo snail. You’re starting to get nervous. ‘What if he thinks I went too far and I put him in an even worse mood?’ Your worries tell you. You swat them away. No, you will do this. It’ll be fun seeing how Shanks will react and if he does like it he’ll definitely like it a lot. Plus you already have everything ready. Your eyes trail to the little egg vibrator that'll soon be inside you, feeling your face heat up as you feel the ship come to a stop. You’ve docked. It’s time.

_____________________

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” Shanks tells you as the two of you walk. “It’s not gonna be interesting. It’ll just be about threatening the enemies to back off, make an example, and that’s it. It’s mostly to reassure them.”

“I know you’re not looking forward to it, though. You’ve been bummed since we had to leave to come here. Just thought me being here would give you some motivation.” As you expected he brightens and a happy smile forms on his face as he wraps his arm around you.

“You spoil me, doll.” He kisses the side of your head. “And I’m sorry we had to leave, I know you were looking forward to our date too.” The island you were at has an amusement park the both of you were excited for, but his responsibilities have to come first. People’s lives are involved.

“Oh well, it’s simply how things ended up.” You adjust your bag with a sigh as the two of you arrive, walking inside and into the meeting room. The others are already here, brightening when they spot Shanks.

“Chief!” They surround him, glad that he came. There’s the sound of someone clearing their throat, the governor.

“Settle down, the meeting will begin.” At her words the rest of the workers sit back down. The two of you sit next to each other. You were slightly hoping otherwise but as expected the meeting isn’t very interesting. The good thing, and the main reason why Shanks met with them instead of going straight to fighting, is that the governor and her council look very relieved now that he’s here. It may be a small-time pirate to Shanks, but to them it’s someone that could ravage their island without the redhead’s protection. Thankfully the meeting doesn’t feel heavy at all. No panic or mourning since there were no casualties, which means you don’t have to feel guilty when you carefully slip your hand to your inner thigh and flip the switch connected to the vibrator pressed against your g-spot. It starts to buzz and Shanks looks at you when you flinch.

“You okay?” He whispers and you nod, letting the meeting continue as you squirm every so often. You gulp and take out the photo snail and paper, giving it a small shush so it knows to be silent. Your husband deserves this little pick me up, and this may or may not be for you too. You stand up, excusing yourself to the bathroom; but not after sneakily handing the snail to Shanks with the photo paper. The captain looks confused but takes it, assuming that the squirming must’ve been from you holding your bladder. You head to the bathroom and pull the camera snail from your bag once you’re inside. Shaking slightly, you breathe deeply before dressing yourself down; revealing the lingerie hidden under your clothes. The vibrator has been pressing on your g-spot for half an hour, your panties already slick with arousal. The thought of Shanks’s reaction sends a throb of arousal in your lower stomach and you angle the camera up from below, spreading your thighs enough to reveal the remote strapped to your thigh and the way the cable disappears into the wet fabric of the lingerie.

Snap

It snaps the photo. You take another deep breath before clicking the shell of the snail to send it.

(Shanks's POV)

“Hm?” Shanks looks down at the Photo Snail that had been resting on his thigh. It’s tapping his stomach with one of its eyes to grab his attention before opening its mouth. A photo from the bathroom? Or maybe it’s just a note you wanted to pass, maybe you’re not feeling well and this is your way of telling him. His eyebrows furrow in worry and he gives the piece of paper to the snail. It puts it into its mouth, taking a moment to project the photo onto the paper. ‘I should’ve followed.’ He thinks to himself as the now finished photo is ejected from the snail’s mouth. The redhead picks the paper up and his eyes widen seeing what’s displayed. His beautiful wife in sexy lingerie and a remote strapped to her inner thigh, the small wire weaving underneath her panties and into the tight, wet heat within. You gave this to him before you left. ‘The squirming, she… she’s in the bathroom right now.’ It slowly connects inside his head as blood rushes to his head.

Splurt

“Chief!?” The mayor of the island quickly panics as blood spurts from Shanks’s nose at the sight of your secret nude. The secretary walks to him and the captain quickly hides the photo’s visual from their eyes.

“I’m fine I’m fine.” A tissue is handed to him which he puts to his nose, the bleeding calming down before another wave comes out at the realization that you’ve been wearing that this entire time for him. “Excuse me.” He quickly stuffs the photo into his pocket with the snail, tossing the bloody tissue into the trash before speed walking out of the room to the bathroom. He gets to the bathroom door and you falter, putting your clothes on and opening the door.

“Yes?-” You get that out but not much else as he pushes his way into the room, shuts the door, and kisses you. Your hand reaches behind him and locks it, making him grin into the kiss.

“Hiding yourself from me now, hm?” His hand reaches under your shirt, smiling wider when he feels the lacy bra underneath. “And when you interrupted me so confidently.” He gets close to your ear and slips his hand down your waistband. “So naughty.”

“Shanks..” You shiver and he groans when he slips his fingers to your bare heat, feeling how wet you are. His fingers gently circle your clit before suddenly quickening the speed, making you gasp and moan into his shoulder. He continues while placing loving kisses to your face until you’re close. Before you can cum he stops and pulls his hand away. You lightly glare at him and he gives you a small peck on the lips.

“You’ll get what you want. I just want to get what I want.” He tugs your shirt up, pupils dilating when your boobs lightly bounce. “All prettied up for me.” Shanks kisses down your body desperately, pulling your bottoms down with his teeth and hand on the way down. Once on his knees he presses his tongue to your clothed pussy, savoring the wetness with a groan. His lips kiss where your clit is, his breath heavy as he messily makes out with your cunt; licking and sucking on the fabric until the saliva mixes with your slick. By the time he’s finished you’re shaking, struggling to keep yourself standing. You don’t need to anymore though, feeling yourself being lifted up as he rises with his arm under your knees and the hem of your shirt between his teeth. Once you’re up his body pins you to the wall with your legs at his sides. He leans in and kisses you, prying your lips open with his tongue to transfer the cloth from his mouth to yours. Once it’s bitten down he pulls away. “Hold that up for me, hun.”

“Mm~” You’re only in your lingerie now, your shirt hiding nothing by the hem held between your teeth. You wrap your legs around him tightly and unbutton his shirt, sliding his coat off and shirt off as he holds you up with his body. His hand shuffles down to his pants until you feel his bare length pressing against you. He grinds and you jolt with a small moan, the loveliest sound to him. Next, he pulls your panties to the side just enough so he can fuck you in the lingerie. The vibrator slips out of you with a tug on the cable and he replaces it with his tip to your entrance. His arm tightens around your body and he slowly sinks you down until you two are joined with matching moans.

“Fuck, I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” His cock throbs inside of you, hard and hot from the picture you surprised him with. He pulls back until only the tip is in, then sinks you down again; slow and steady so you can feel every drag of his dick against your walls. It repeats again and again until you whine.

“Stop teasing me..!” He chuckles at your complaint and finally ups the speed, his strong hold keeping you up while he thrusts in and out of you.

“You’re too sexy not to tease.” He mumbles, sucking a mark onto your pulse point. “Pretty girl.” He grinds forward, rolling his hips so his pelvis presses against your clit before going back to his thrusts. “My girl.” While the pleasure clouds your mind you feel his arm pull back before a buzzing sound is heard.

“What?” You question before yelping when the vibrator is pressed to your bud.

“Wouldn’t want this to go to waste, right?” He puts it snugly between your folds. When you squirm he pulls you hard against him. “Nuh uh, doll. This is for you.” Shanks groans as he thrusts quicker. “All for you.” You whimper and dig your nails into his shoulders, the pain making him gasp and throb inside you. It’s hot, the buzzing on your clit, his length, his body against yours. Your lower stomach pulses with pleasure and you moan as a coil forms inside.

“Shanks~!” You moan and he places a reassuring kiss on your lips.

“Go ahead, doll, cum for me. Cum around your husband’s cock as he fucks you.” His words are the last push and you keen as the coil snaps, sending pleasure straight to your head as you climax. He grunts, panting at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and his thrusts slow.

“(Y/n)? Chief?” Someone asks from the other side. Contrary to common sense, Shanks doesn’t stop. Instead he switches to long deep strokes that move your body with each meet of your hips. The movement moves the vibrator from straight onto your bud to the side, yet not enough to stop the buzzing from stimulating you.

“Sorry, she needed a bit of help. She feels sick.” You whimper and he kisses you silent.

“Oh, I hope she feels better soon. The meeting is almost over so she can leave without missing anything important. The only thing missing is your orders.” He pulls away, giving a small shh before speaking.

“I’ll have to help her back to the ship, I can give them to you here.” You clasp a hand over your mouth when he gives a sudden harsh thrust. His jaw clenches for a moment to stop a groan. “..I’ll stay here for a few days to collect info then get my boys to find those troublemakers. We’ll scare 'em then, kill the main ones and you guys-” He gives another harsh thrust. “-can toss the rest in jail. Your choice.” Right after he’s done he presses his lips to yours, his tongue exploring your mouth while going back to his rough pace despite your sensitive body and the person still on the other side of the door.

“Okay then, I'll relay that to everyone else.” They say as Shanks’s thrusts get sloppier, your orgasm is building up again and you don’t know if you can keep quiet enough for them not to hear. You’re trying so hard to hold it in but your husband doesn’t let up at all. “I’ll be seeing you, chief.” His lips leave to press his forehead against yours.

“See you around.” His voice is deep, footsteps getting quiet. The moment they’re gone your control gives out and you cum with a cry.

“Shanks!♡” Your pulse around him and he pants at the feeling, barely managing to ride your orgasm before he finally bottoms out to coat your walls with his cum; keeping his body covering yours until he’s filled you up. Finally the throbbing ends and Shanks sinks to the ground with you on his lap.

“I thought you were going to be normal and slow down.” You state nervously, turning the vibrator off and tossing it to the side.

“I tried, but you were too sexy trying to keep quiet. Hard to keep control.” He gives you a small kiss. “They’ll just assume you were whining from a stomach ache. You look a mess enough to have been throwing up.” A grin forms on his face. “I look close enough when I get real bad hangovers.” His comparison makes you frown and lightly smack him on the shoulder. “Ouch, that's where you scratched.”

____________________

You both fix up the best you can, going with the excuse that you threw up to explain your messiness even when the cum inside you is pooling into the lingerie panties. When you two get back to the ship he cleans you up better, kisses here and there that may have gotten too heated for two people who just got done fucking in a building bathroom; but you do get clean. Since you’re supposedly sick you two stay in the ship and cuddle in bed. Maybe this isn’t as good as a nice date at an amusement park, but the two of you still ended up together; and that's really what cheers Shanks up.

I did it! Ill be making a male version of this too but rn im too tired and i wouldnt bee able to focus okay back yo sleep honk shoo honk shoo.

[witheringwidgetwrites]

Hi☺️🌸 TW for this request: loneliness, angst, depression.

You are 100% allowed to not take this request and if you choose to do so, I would totally understand ❤️

Can we please get a series or even a one shot on how each of the Obey me! brothers (separately or together or maybe a mixture of both) would react to an mc that's just so use to not having any friends or anyone that particularly cares about what they're up to or what's on their mind/how they feel (on top of also being bullied)? An mc with a loneliness that runs so deep that that they end up constantly feeling abandoned and forgotten. For whom none of the friends that they've had in the past ever cared to maintain a relationship with them, which really aggravated their pre-existing rejection sensitive dysphoria (AuDHD). And this mc cares so much and put so much love into their relationships with others. This mc loves hard and was told throughout their life, that that was bad. And no matter what they do, people always end up leaving them or making them feel like they're not good enough - sometimes because of circumstances, sometimes because people (the friends) think they're "too much" or "weird", sometimes because they (the friends) genuinely just don't care. Because that's how insignificant MC is.

I want to read about an mc who gets surprised when (one of) the brothers decide to sit with them while they're doing something mundane, like homework or studying or colouring (idk i love colouring). And an mc who sleeps holding a pillow or with the pillow against their back, so that they can feel less alone. And can we see the brothers react to all of it? Why would they care about what MC is doing? Do they need something? Is something wrong?

Sorry, I know it's a lot and I really didn't mean to info/trauma dump on you🙏🏽 I just really want to read something that makes me feel seen and represented. Because I'm speaking from experience, unfortunately. And can we also make the mc gender neutral, if that's okay with you?

Even if you don't end up taking my request, thank you for taking the time to read it🙏🏽 I really appreciate it ❤️💖

Okay friend, I am picking one brother for this, and I picked Mammon! Unfortunately I so deeply understand this ask, as someone who has BPD. I desperately need soul crushing devotion and love in my life. Anyway.

So, how would Mammon react to a lonely MC?

I think at first, Mammon would brush off some habits of yours as weird-human-traits until he puts the pieces together. I think the first time it clicks, is the first time he REALLY eats lunch with you, of his own volition. He usually does, not JUST because he's your watchdog, but because ehe does enjoy it. And then, one afternoon he sits with you after not doing so for a few days, and the genuine surprise when you turn your head is a little baffling to him! Your smile lights up a little more than usual, and he notices the sparkle in your eyes. He knows by now that he's smitten, but today is the day he pieces together how lonely you seem.

From then on, he prods a little. Not gently, but gentle for him. Either way, whether you're forthcoming or not, he chooses to push a little more. More sleepovers, more time together, even if it's. most of your time. You'll be able to notice how his comments about humans seem to slip off his tongue more quietly for a while, and then they seemingly disappear almost all together. He does really notice and take these things to heart, especially for you. When you seem more isolated, or even when he's just busy, you'll find that the little crows seem to gather around you during lunch or homework time, and sometimes you'll get a little pebble!

[ohmypawsandwhiskers]

LENOS DESERVED BETTER

[coridallasmultipass]

.

[unluckiestmember]

YAY, YOU'RE BACK TO WRITING FOR ARCANE. How would the arcane characters react (mainly vi, ekko, and jinx because i would marry, marry, and marry them all!!) to a reader who is sooo affectionate and finds every last thing they do so cute they get cuteness aggression and just jump at them like a cuddle bug often? thank you so much!!

Coming right up!

Arcane x Cuddle Bug! Reader

Characters: Powder/Jinx, Violet "Vi", Ekko, Caitlyn Kiramman, Viktor, Jayce Talis, Mel Medarda, Sevika and Ran.

Warning: None really. SFW.

A/N: Am I the only one who wants to snuggle into Caitlyn? Ugh, I love her so much.

Powder/Jinx

“Oh! Hey there, sugar! You want to cuddle? Don’t have to ask me twice! I’ll cuddle you so much that you get tired of me! But you’d never get tired of me, right?”

Jinx is a super clingy person, so for you to be as clingy as her it’s like you two are a match made in heaven. There’s barely any time that passes when you two are not touching each other and she lives for your cuddles. It doesn’t matter if you hug her out of nowhere or she sees you about to embrace her, she is stopping everything she is doing and pulling you into the tightest of hugs.

Most of the time if she isn’t causing mayhem in the streets of Zaun or busy with her inventions, she will spend her time just holding you so close and showering your face with the cutest but most childish of kisses. She doesn’t care if it’s in private or public, she will make it known that you two can’t keep your hands off each other. You are her cuddlebug and she is yours and that won’t ever change.

Violet “Vi”

“Woah there, cuddle bug! You’re gonna make me screw up my workout… Oh forget it. How can I say no to you?”

Because Violet is absolutely touch starved, she will never decline your cuddles, even if you take her by surprise a few times with how you hug her so suddenly. She finds it adorable how you fangirl around her and find everything she does to be awesome or cute. Granted she does wish you’d call her hot or sexy, but knows that isn’t really in tune with your personality.

Regardless, she tries to make sure you know how adorable you are, always telling you while you two are cuddled up together how lucky she is to have you and how you are so adorable. Even when you visit her at work, she’ll try to drop everything and have you run into her arms to pick you up. And every time she’s got time off work or is coming back from a job, she’s automatically looking for you so she could hook you in her arms and never let go.

Ekko

“Y/N, haha! You know we gotta keep this private, babe- The kids are gonna pounce on us any second now!”

Does Ekko love hugging you? Absolutely. The warmth of your arms around his body makes him stop everything he’s doing and just hug you while calling you his firelight or firefly. Unless he’s calling you an angel or lovebug, which never fails to make Scar either look at you two in awe or roll their eyes in mock annoyance. Unfortunately, Ekko does try his best to make sure you two don’t get super affectionate around the children, especially when it comes to hugs.

Why? Because as soon as you hug him, the children find this as an invitation to gather around him and have him nearly die under a cuteness overload of a group hug. It’s nice as a once in a while occurrence, but all the time? Maybe not. Outside of the reactions you two garnish and even the teasing of you being the firelight king/queen, Ekko lives for your cuddlebug energy, wanting to be in your arms after a long day’s work. It’s always the best way to end the night… 

Caitlyn Kiramman

“And that’s why if I am able to block this end of the road, I’ll- Oh!... Oh come here, sweetheart. If you wanted to cuddle so badly, you could’ve asked.”

Caitlyn has always been someone who was more subtle with her love, pulling you into brief kisses, cupping your cheek and holding you by your waist. She usually leaves the more out there gestures like hugging and cuddling for you to initiate. But when you do? It might be harder for you to get her off of you instead of the other way around. It can be at work, in her home, outside of work or at an event. As soon as she feels your arms wrap around her slender body, she’s stopping for a second to hold you back and kiss your forehead.

She will continue working if you interrupt her during a briefing or in the middle of cracking a case, but the entire time, she will have at least one arm around your body and make sure you are comfortable. Her comrades tease her about it and she’ll scowl a bit, but she doesn’t care. As far as she can tell, she’s extremely lucky to have you as a lover.

Viktor

“Ah! Oh, it is just you, zolotse. Remember, you have to warn me of these cute little hugs of yours.”

At first, Viktor wasn’t used to your physical affection and how you were in awe of everything he did. He actually thought you were mocking him at first or being silly. But after a while, especially when the two of you became a couple, he grew accustomed to your affections. He does get a bit startled when you hug him out of nowhere and he does have moments where you cheering him on does make him a bit bashful, but he enjoys your sweet gestures regardless.

He does find it difficult to be as outgoing with his love for you as you are with him, but he does try his best to make you realize he loves you, especially in the form of quality time and calling you by sweet pet names bound to make you blush. Viktor has a tendency to pass out from working too hard and waking up in your arms. And though he’d never say it out loud, you know based on the way he snuggles into you, he adores it and adores you.

Jayce Talis

“I know what you want and I want it too- So bring it in! I’ve waited all day to be in your arms!”

Because Jayce is always out at work, it’s kind of hard for you two to be around one another all the time. That’s why when he does reunite with you after hours or you two can be together on days off, he’s spending the majority of his free time with you or wrapped around you. He sort of craves for your praise and compliments as much as he craves your cuddles.

Many would compare the councilman to a needy dog wanting his owner’s undivided attention and he definitely gets that through you. Though he may try to act all cool or play coy, everyone knows that you mean so much to him and that he becomes putty around you. Even if they don’t, you’re not afraid to say it aloud. Just make sure Jayce isn’t around or that man will become redder than a beet.

Mel Medarda

“What’s wrong?... I know that look. You want to- Ah! Well looks like you beat me to the punch, darling. How about we take this to the bed, hmm?”

Mel wasn’t really given physical affection when she was younger. She was more someone who preferred verbal affection with words of affirmation. So when it came to you and how affectionate you are, she found herself adapting and loving physical affection as much as telling you how much she loved you.

Your cuddles and sweet gestures are her personal heaven she loves returning to after a long day’s work, especially if she can spend an evening with you platonically in your shared bed. In your arms, she feels she can air out anything that’s bothering her or interests her, especially when you admit how cute it is when she does. Though this kind of intimate affection is delegated to private quarters, anyone can know from the way Mel speaks of you outside of home and at events that you mean so much to her.

Sevika

“Yeah! So then I was like screw you, I can do whatever- Hold on. Uh, Y/N. I thought we agreed to not do this at work?”

Sevika is considered the Right Hand of Zaun, a woman who is feared if not respected by her peers. And she’d like to keep it that way. Which means that while you two are at work, she prefers it if you don’t cuddle her around co-workers and give them something to tease her about. You two can only flirt and kiss and even then, it has to be sexy…

But alone, when both of you are away from the public eye, Sevika is at your beck and call wishing for nothing else but to hear your sweet praises and melt into your arms and touch. Expect her to call you the cutest thing ever and tease you on occasion, but afterwards she’s basically a big needy cat, or as she prefers to be called, a panther. It’s moments like these where you can really consider yourself lucky to see a raw side of Sevika. And it was only preserved for you.

If you got any requests for Arcane or X-Men '97, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[parrish-the-thot]

A continuation of this post I made

I imagine Steve genuinely doesn’t think about Eddie, like at all. Besides the occasional “what is he yelling about in that table” or “ Munson actually showed up to class” or once in sophomore year he thinks “how much does Munson charge for an ounce of weed? Would he take a $50 for an ounce” which causes Eddie to wait around all day at the picnic table wishing for some shmuck to offer $50 for just an ounce, but no one shows up (Steve had to go pick up Dustin after school and didn’t want him to find weed the weed when he inevitably starts going through Steve’s car)

The lack of soulmate thoughts really irks Eddie, because he knows his soulmate is in Hawkins, but he never thinks about Eddie, like at all??? Positively or negatively?? Eddie jumps on more tables, he blares loud music from his van, he is in a band, he is the drug dealer for all the teens in Hawkins and all his soulmate thinks is “why the fuck did Munson double park his van, I’m going to be late looking for a parking spot now” it absolutely drives him crazy.

He eventually figures out his soulmate must be a jock of some kind because one day he hears “what is Munson doing under the bleachers?” when some sports team is let out of playing with balls practice. He is briefly heartbroken his soulmate isn’t a nerd like him, but then spends the night thinking about how a certain fluffy haired jock could play with his balls anytime.

Steve isn’t not thinking about Eddie on purpose, but they just don’t run in the same circles, so he doesn’t really think about him too much, just in a genuine, “I don’t know them, don’t interact with them, so I don’t really think about them” sort of way. Especially after befriending the kids, Steve’s focus goes to keeping them safe and being a babysitter instead of finding his soulmate.

Steve’s experience with his soulmates thoughts is completely different. Starting in middle school he heard his soulmate think he was cute which he thought was nice. As he got older his soulmate would still think he was cute, but also handsome or pretty which, he doesn’t know any girls who call their boyfriends pretty but ya know, he can roll with that. He thinks he will have to roll with a lot of stuff, since hai soulmate seems to into a…a lot of interesting things, to say the least. Steve has dated a lot of girls but none of them seemed to want to rub their face in his chest hair like his soulmate did, who also wonder is Steve was that hairy everywhere which- he was but he didn’t think a girl would want to know about that.

He would be in the middle of a basket ball game and he hit with a 15 minute monologue about how wonderful his ass looked in “thise little green shirts that ride up his ass in the best way” and how his soulmate “wanted to be those shorts” causing Steve to miss three different shots. Also with all this wildly kinky stuff and even general sex things Steve has never heard of or thought about he figures he should become more knowledgeable to better be prepared for his soulmate.

One day when Steve is cleaning up a drink he spilled in the cafeteria and heard “god Harrington looks good on his knees, bet he would look even better with my cock in his mouth” figures chances are his soulmate isn’t a girl at all.

With not much else to loose and a new door opened up to him, Steve starts spending time thinking equally horny thinvs about different guys he sees in class, just to see if they will react to what he is thinking. This is how he figures out Eddie is his soulmate.

Steve notices eddies table is getting a little rowdy, as is always does before Eddie gets up on someone’s table and he rants about jocks and preppy girls while stepping on people’s lunches, Steve thinks “what if comes over here, spits in my stretched out hole, and fucks me right next to Heathers Halloways tuna sandwich”

Eddie, whose soulmate didn’t even think about Eddie that one time his car got spray painted a fit was all the school talked about for a week, was NOT expecting that at 12:30 on a Tuesday and promptly trips on a chair and slams face first into the lunch table, breaking his nose.

Eddies friends rush him to the nurse and Steve is torn between this being a sign Eddie is soulmate or Eddie just clumsy, Steve has seen him walk into a door twice, so he don’t 100% sure. Steve decided to test this anytime he has a clear viewpoint of Eddie and starts thinking the most horny, kinky things possibly about Eddie to see if Eddie reacts proves he is Steve’s soulmate (also revenge because Steve had to go through years of Eddie horny pondering interrupting Steve during important tasks games or tests so Steve figures he should pay that forward during eddies dungeons and dorks games)

[moluvies]

in your orbit ꔛ armin arlert x reader

a/n: made the banner in 2 seconds on picsart myb 🫡👍 i usually dont fw the modern/college au for aot but nerdmin has so much potential :3 read part two here !!

words: 5.9k

cw: nerd!armin, college au, she/her pronouns and fem anatomy for reader, somewhat inexperienced armin #idk, armin is actually a nice person in this au, frat boy eren makes an appearance (obvi), armin gets drunk, reader gets drunk, SMUT!!, so drunk sex, mutual attraction, blowjobs, p in v sex, doggystyle, dirty talk, he whines and whimpers 😦‼️, MDNI !!

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

The rec center was lively, as it usually was this time of day. You checked your phone to look at the time—3:56 P.M. Would it be weird to go in 4 minutes early? You wondered to yourself, anxiety getting the best of you. Especially when you couldn't hear even the smallest sound come from the small study room, though you told yourself maybe it was a soundproof design.

Armin Arlert, one of your classmates and now a member of the group project you had been assigned, was the one to set this meeting up. The group project from your astronomy class was a semester-long task, given to you during syllabus week and not to be turned in until finals. Half of the semester had passed and you hadn't even really met the rest of your group members—aside from Armin.

The two of you hadn't really talked, though. You followed each other on Instagram now and you sat at the same table as him in class (along with a few other people you didn't really know). Aside from that, the guy was practically a stranger to you. But you couldn't deny how you admired him. He always raised his hand in class, never sounding too full of himself or annoying like other people typically sounded to you in lecture. He was also helpful if you ever had a question, especially because you hated going to office hours with professors you hardly knew.

Armin had texted the group chat he made with all the group members a week ago asking if everyone had availability that Friday. A couple people said yes while others just put a thumbs up emoji to react to his message. He didn't mind if they didn't show to the first meeting, really. It was individually graded and if they didn't have availability to meet Friday they could have said so.

You took a deep breath, trying your best to compose yourself before you knocked once and then entered the tiny study room. It contained one table with 6 chairs around it, a TV you could connect your laptop to, and a trash can off in the corner.

And it also contained only one person—Armin.

"Hey," you greeted with a smile, shutting the door behind you and seating yourself down in a chair across from him.

"Hi, you made it," Armin smiled, looking up from his laptop as you entered. "I was just setting things up so we all have access to the slides, just in case anyone wants to make changes."

You nodded, putting your bag on the chair next to you and taking out your notebook and your own laptop. Armin turned his screen slightly so you could see the Google Slides presentation he'd already started.

“So,” he began, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “the project is basically split into three parts. We each pick a topic from the syllabus—we're focusing on one planetary system or celestial phenomenon—and then tie it back to a central question or theme. I thought we could go with, like… how different environments in space might support life? It leaves a lot of room for interpretation.”

“That actually sounds really cool,” you said, surprised by how easily the conversation was flowing. Armin was easy to talk to—calm, thoughtful, never pushing too hard. “I was kind of thinking about Europa. Like, that moon of Jupiter? There’s been speculation that it could have an ocean under the ice.”

Armin’s eyes lit up. “That would be perfect for your section. I was thinking of doing something about Titan, Saturn’s moon. We could compare how the chemical compositions of each moon might influence the potential for life—or even just how scientists are studying them.”

The hour passed quicker than you expected. Armin’s presence, though quiet, was reassuring. The two of you bounced ideas back and forth, shared articles, and even got a little distracted googling strange facts about different moons. At one point, Armin laughed quietly at a meme someone had edited into one of Titan's photos, and you felt your shoulders finally relax.

“No one else showing up kinda worked out,” you said as you started packing up your things.

“Yeah,” Armin replied, unplugging his laptop from the monitor. “Honestly, I don’t mind. We got a lot done. I’ll just post our outline in the chat and if they don’t contribute by the next meeting, I’ll talk to the professor. He said we could document that stuff.”

You both walked out into the early evening sunlight, your backpacks slung over your shoulders as the automatic doors of the rec center whooshed open.

As you and Armin stepped outside, the soft warmth of the sun casting long shadows on the pavement, he glanced over at you with a relaxed expression.

“Got any plans this weekend?” he asked, shifting his backpack on his shoulder.

You sighed, a little amused. “My friend’s been begging me to go to this frat party Saturday night. I haven't been to one since my first week of freshman year."

Armin raised an eyebrow, a small grin tugging at his lips. “At Delta Sig?”

You blinked in surprise. “Yeah. Are you in that frat?”

He laughed—soft, a little disbelieving. “God, no. Not even close. But my friend Eren is. Our friend Mikasa and I usually end up at those parties to keep him from doing something insane.”

You tilted your head curiously. “So… you do go sometimes?”

“Sometimes,” Armin admitted, his tone casual. “Delta Sig almost got shut down, actually. They had, like, a ton of hazing violations documented over the past decade. I tried convincing Eren not to rush, but he did anyway. Even after I showed him an article about it online.”

You laughed. “Wow. That makes me feel so great about possibly going.”

He smiled, nudging your arm lightly with his elbow. “If you do end up there, try to find me, alright?”

“Yeah?” you asked, a little surprised by the offer.

“I’m not a big drinker or anything,” Armin said with a small shrug, “but I’ll probably be hanging around Eren and Mikasa, keeping them out of trouble. If you go, say hi.”

You nodded, a little smile growing on your face and a flutter in your heart at the idea. “Okay. I will.”

ꔛ

"I look like an idiot," you whined, eyeing yourself in the mirror as you looked over your outfit. As a freshman, you might've worn something like this to these types of parties, but now you weren't sure anyone should wear this kind of outfit. The top was so low cut and the jeans were just simply not it, you weren't sure if you were going for slutty or casual.

"Come on, you look great," your friend, Hitch, said. Her dirty blonde hair was neatly styled and she wore an outfit combination similar to yours—tiny top with jeans.

"We look like we're matching," you replied, but with no malice. That could be cute, you thought.

"Ugh, you're right. Be right back."

You glared at the back of her head as she turned to presumably go get changed. Your hair looked nice, and so did your makeup. The outfit felt dumb but it wasn't terrible. So why did you feel like throwing up?

"Armin really said to come find you?" Hitch asked when she returned with a grin and different outfit, bringing up the conversation you had in her car when she picked you up. Hitch seemed to be a frequent partygoer to this specific frat, and had met Armin a few times at these functions. When you brought it up in the car, she confirmed that Armin hardly ever drank and mostly stayed near Eren and Mikasa.

"Yeah. He's really sweet, so I didn't expect him to even go to these," you replied honestly, applying more lip gloss. "It wasn't a surprise when he said he doesn't drink, though."

"I'm sure you guys will really hit it off then. You even turned down my 'getting ready shots'."

You rolled your eyes, and soon you were on your way, taking the short walk towards Greek row where the party was presumably already in full swing—Hitch insisting on being late so you two didn't look lame waiting for people to show up.

ꔛ

Armin was a mess.

He didn't know why, or how, but in the hours leading up to the party he convinced himself he was awkward and weird for telling you to come see him. He even went to Jean and Eren and begged for advice.

He had so much trouble reading you, but he knew you were kind. And pretty. What he didn't really know was—well, everything else. Did you drink? What kind of clothes would you wear? Would you care that he didn't like dancing?

None of the questions made sense, but neithed did anything in his mind. Why was he this stressed over a party? He was practically the babysitter when attending, and it's not like he personally invited you. He just said you should come see him. God, was that even more weird?

Somehow, some way, Jean and Eren convinced Armin to take some shots. Three shots, actually. To "ease his mind" and to "calm his nerves" apparently.

Now, there Armin was in the back of Eren's car, finding the way the streetlights passed the window and the bass of the music electrifying. Everything was warm and fuzzy, and he felt his head spin the entire drive.

ꔛ

The music hit you before anything else—thick, throbbing bass that vibrated through the concrete steps leading up to the frat house. Red cups were already scattered across the yard, and the dim porch light revealed clusters of people smoking and laughing.

"This is going to be fun," Hitch said, linking her arm through yours. "Come on, let's find your astronomy boy."

You felt heat rise to your face at the nickname. "He's not my—"

"Yeah, yeah," Hitch interrupted with a knowing smile.

As you squeezed your way through the packed living room, the scent of cheap beer and cologne made your nose scrunch. Bodies were pressed together everywhere, dancing and swaying to music that was way too loud for any actual conversation. You were starting to regret coming when Hitch suddenly squealed and pointed toward the kitchen.

"There he is! Armin's over there with Eren and Jean."

You followed her gaze, and sure enough, there was Armin—but not the Armin you expected. His normally neat blond hair was slightly mussed, cheeks flushed pink, and he was... laughing? Not the reserved, thoughtful chuckle you'd heard in the study room, but a full, uninhibited laugh that made his whole face light up.

"Is he..." you trailed off, not quite believing what you were seeing.

Hitch's eyes widened with delight. "Oh my god, I think he's drunk! This is amazing. I've literally never seen Armin anything but sober."

You made your way over to the kitchen, Hitch practically dragging you. Armin was leaning against the counter, talking animatedly with two guys you assumed were Eren and Jean. He was gesturing with his hands, something about... constellations? It was hard to hear over the music.

When he spotted you, his eyes widened almost comically.

"You came!" Armin said with such genuine excitement that it made your heart do a strange flip. He pushed himself off the counter—a bit unsteadily—and made his way over. "I wasn't sure if you would. But you did!"

"I said I would," you replied with a smile, surprised by how endearing his enthusiasm was.

"Hey, Armin," Hitch said, giving him a little wave. "Looking good tonight! Where's Marlowe at?"

"Marlowe? Oh! He's out back, I think. By the beer pong tables." Armin seemed to remember his friends then, turning back to the two guys watching with amused expressions. "Oh! This is (Y/N)," he said your name with such care it made your cheeks warm again. "She's in my astronomy group. We're doing Europa and Titan and life possibilities and it's really cool. And she's friends with Hitch."

The shorter of the two guys—brown hair, intense eyes—reached out a hand. "I'm Eren. This is Jean." He nodded toward a guy with an undercut and a smirk.

"Nice to meet you," you said, shaking hands with both of them.

"You're in Armin's class? Good luck with that. He's been talking about space for the past hour," Jean said, but there was affection in his voice.

Hitch was already scanning the room. "I'm going to find Marlowe. You good here?" she asked you.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you assured her, secretly relieved to have an out from being around her boyfriend. Marlowe was nice enough, but he was so serious it made conversations feel like job interviews.

"Don't wait up," she winked, then disappeared into the crowd.

Armin was staring at you with an expression of pure fascination. "Your hair looks really nice," he said, the filter between his thoughts and words clearly compromised. "Like—like starlight. Did you know some stars have different colors? Red giants, blue dwarfs—"

"You're such a nerd," Eren cut him off, but ruffled Armin's hair affectionately. "Even drunk you're giving astronomy lectures."

"How much did you drink?" you asked Armin, unable to keep the amusement from your voice.

"Three shots!" Armin held up only two fingers, then frowned and corrected himself. "Only three. They said it would help with nerves. I don't usually drink." He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice but still speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear. "I feel weird. Like my brain is swimming."

Jean snorted. "Lightweight."

Eren reached into a nearby cooler and pulled out a beer, offering it to you. "Want one? Fair warning, I think we've corrupted your study buddy."

You hesitated. You weren't planning on drinking much tonight, but Armin was looking at you with such hopeful eyes.

"Please?" Armin said, swaying slightly. "I feel like an alien right now. Everyone's having fun and I'm just... vibrating on a different frequency."

The way he said it made you laugh. "Okay, fine. One beer. Maybe three, eventually."

Armin's face lit up again as you accepted the beer from Eren. You popped the tab and took a small sip, grimacing at the taste. Cheap beer was still cheap beer.

"Well, now that Armin's in good hands," Eren said with an exaggerated stretch, "Jean and I are gonna go find Mikasa. She texted that she just got here."

"Wait, you're leaving?" Armin asked, a flash of panic crossing his face.

"Relax, we'll be back," Jean said, already backing away. "Besides, you've got your project partner now."

Before Armin could protest further, they disappeared into the crowd, leaving you alone with a slightly swaying Armin Arlert.

"They always do that," Armin said, leaning back against the counter for stability. "Leave me places."

"Looks like I'm on babysitting duty," you teased, taking another small sip of your beer.

"No, no," Armin protested, reaching out and nearly missing as he tried to touch your arm. "You should have fun too. Not just—just watch me being weird."

"Who says watching you being weird isn't fun?" you replied, finding yourself genuinely enjoying this uninhibited version of him.

Armin stared at you for a moment, then broke into a wide smile. "You're really nice, you know that? And smart. Your Europa idea was so good. I went home and read, like, three papers about it."

"After our meeting? I thought you said you were going to meet Eren and Mikasa."

"I did! But after. I couldn't stop thinking about the project. And..." he trailed off, that flush on his cheeks deepening.

"And what?" you prompted, suddenly curious.

Armin took a sip from his cup—soda, you noticed—and looked around at the party as if gathering courage. "And I was kind of hoping you'd come tonight. I don't know why. I just... wanted to see you outside of class."

Your heart did that strange flip again. "Well, here I am," you said softly, not sure what else to say.

"Here you are," Armin echoed, his eyes meeting yours with surprising clarity despite his intoxication. "Want to go somewhere quieter? I can't hear myself think in here, and I have so many thoughts right now."

You laughed, finding his honesty refreshing. "Lead the way."

Armin grinned and pushed himself off the counter, taking your hand with a boldness you suspected was alcohol-induced, pulling you through the crowded living room toward the staircase.

As you followed him, fingers intertwined with his, you found yourself thinking that this was definitely not how you expected your Friday night to go—but somehow, it was exactly what you needed.

Armin led you up the stairs, his hand still holding yours as you weaved through small clusters of people gathered on the steps. You were glad for his guidance—the house was a maze of narrow hallways, dimly lit and pulsing with the bass from downstairs. Finally, he stopped in front of a door and turned the handle, peeking in before ushering you inside.

"Jean's room," he explained, closing the door behind you both. The music instantly became muffled, a distant thumping rather than the overwhelming roar from downstairs.

The room was surprisingly clean for a frat house bedroom—minimal clutter, a neatly made bed, and even a small bookshelf in the corner. You glanced around, suddenly feeling like you were intruding.

"Should we be in here? I feel bad taking his room," you said, hovering awkwardly near the door.

Armin shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "He won't even need it until like 4 AM. Trust me. He's either going to be downstairs until everyone leaves or..." He trailed off, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Got it," you laughed, understanding the implication. You took another sip of your beer, feeling the pleasant warmth spreading through your limbs as you made your way to sit on the edge of the bed.

Armin joined you, leaving a respectful few inches between you. "Better, right? I can actually hear you now."

"Much better," you agreed, finding it easier to relax now that you weren't surrounded by sweaty strangers. "So... you really went home and read scientific papers after our meeting?"

His face lit up immediately. "Yeah! There was this one about the chemical composition of Europa's ocean and how it might compare to Earth's deep-sea hydrothermal vents. Did you know there are organisms on Earth that don't need sunlight at all? They just use chemical energy from the vents."

You watched him as he spoke, his hands gesturing enthusiastically, eyes bright with genuine passion. The alcohol had lowered his usual reserve, but it was still Armin—brilliant, thoughtful Armin—just with his thoughts flowing more freely. You found yourself drawn to this version of him, the slight flush on his cheeks and the way his hair fell across his forehead when he leaned forward.

"That's actually fascinating," you said, taking another long sip of your beer. You were starting to feel it now, that pleasant buzz that made everything seem warmer, more immediate. "So you think there could be something like that on Europa?"

"It's possible! That's what makes it so exciting," he said, shifting to face you more directly. "We're just beginning to understand how diverse life can be. The universe is so much stranger than we imagine."

You nodded, feeling a pleasant heaviness in your limbs as you leaned back on your elbows. "I need to catch up to your level of intoxication if we're going to have deep space conversations all night."

Armin laughed, the sound soft and genuine. "Trust me, you don't. I feel like my brain is both racing and moving through molasses at the same time."

"That actually sounds kind of nice right now," you admitted, finishing the last of your beer. The room had taken on a gentle, swaying quality, and you found yourself increasingly aware of how close Armin was sitting.

"Here," he said, reaching over to take your empty can and placing it on Jean's desk. As he moved, his shoulder brushed against yours, and you felt a small jolt at the contact.

When he settled back beside you, he seemed to hesitate for a moment before lying back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You joined him, both of you lying side by side, shoulders almost touching.

"There are glow-in-the-dark stars up there," Armin pointed out quietly. Sure enough, faint green stars were stuck to the ceiling in no particular pattern. "Jean would die if he knew I told anyone. He says they were there when he moved in."

You laughed softly, still tipsy but feeling more sober now.

The dim glow from the ceiling stars cast a soft, ethereal light over Armin’s face as you lay beside him. The alcohol had settled warmly in your veins, making every sensation just a little more intense—the softness of the bed beneath you, the muffled bass of the music downstairs, the way Armin’s breathing had slowed into something deep and steady beside you.

You turned your head slightly to look at him, studying the delicate slope of his button nose, the way his eyelashes fluttered when he blinked behind his glasses. His cheeks were still flushed pink from the drinks, and his lips—soft, slightly parted—were just inches from yours. His hair, usually so neat, was tousled from the night’s chaos, falling in golden strands across his forehead. You had the sudden, overwhelming urge to run your fingers through it, to see if it was as silky as it looked.

Armin must have noticed you staring, because his eyes flicked to yours, and for a moment, the air between you stilled. His gaze was warm, hazy with alcohol but still so Armin, so full of quiet intensity.

Then, without a word, he shifted onto his elbow, leaning over you. His free hand came up, fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear with a tenderness that made your pulse jump.

You barely had time to process it before he was kissing you.

His lips were warm, slightly chapped, and tasted faintly of cheap beer and something sweet—maybe the soda he’d been drinking earlier. The kiss was soft at first, hesitant, as if he was still unsure if this was okay. But when you sighed against his mouth, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer, he deepened it with a quiet urgency that sent heat spiraling through your stomach.

His hand slid from your hair to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek as he kissed you again, slower this time, more deliberate. You could feel the warmth of his body pressing into yours, the way his breath hitched when you nipped lightly at his lower lip.

“Is this okay?” he murmured against your mouth, voice rough.

You answered by tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him back down to you. He groaned softly, the sound vibrating against your lips, and suddenly his weight was pressing you into the mattress, his hips slotting between your thighs in a way that made your breath catch.

The kiss turned hotter, messier—his tongue sliding against yours, his hands roaming your sides, tracing the curve of your waist before settling on your hips. You could feel the heat of his skin through your clothes, the way his fingers flexed against you like he was holding back from touching you everywhere.

Armin’s breath was hot against your lips as he kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue sliding against yours in a slow, filthy drag that sent a shiver down your spine. His hands were everywhere—tangling in your hair, skimming down your sides, gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks. You could feel the heat of him pressed against you, the way his body trembled slightly with restraint, like he was holding himself back from just taking what he wanted.

You arched up into him, grinding your hips against his, and he let out a broken groan against your mouth.

“Fuck,” he panted, pulling back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide with want. His lips were swollen, his cheeks flushed, and his voice was rough when he spoke again. “I—I wanna fuck you. So bad.”

The words sent a jolt of heat straight between your legs. You could feel how hard he was already, the thick line of his cock pressing insistently against your thigh through his jeans.

“Yeah?” you breathed, your own voice shaky.

Armin nodded, biting his lower lip as his hands slid under the hem of your top, fingers brushing against the bare skin of your stomach. “Yeah. God, you feel—you feel so good. Can I—?”

You didn’t let him finish. Instead, you unzipped your jeans and grabbed his wrist to guide his hand lower, past the waistband of your jeans, letting him feel the damp heat of your panties. His breath hitched, fingers twitching against you.

“Fuck,” he whispered again, voice wrecked. “You’re—you’re already—”

You cut him off with another kiss, sucking his tongue into your mouth as your own hands wandered lower, palming the hard bulge in his jeans. He jerked against your touch, hips bucking forward with a desperate little noise.

“You too,” you murmured against his lips, squeezing him through the fabric.

Armin shuddered, his forehead dropping against yours as he let out a shaky exhale. “Shit—shit—keep doing that—”

You did, rubbing him slowly, feeling him throb under your fingers. His breath came in ragged gasps, his hips rocking into your hand, chasing the friction.

“You’re so hard,” you whispered, biting at his jaw.

Armin whined, his fingers digging into your hips. “Because of you—fuck, I—I wanna fuck you—”

His hand slid back down, slipping beneath your panties this time, fingers brushing through your slick folds. You gasped, arching into his touch, and he groaned against your neck.

Armin’s breath hitched when you suddenly switched positions and pushed him back onto the bed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you straddled his thighs. His cock strained against his jeans, the fabric damp with pre-cum, and his fingers twitched at his sides like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you or not.

“You—you don’t have to—” he started, voice already wrecked.

You silenced him with a smirk, taking his glasses off which were slightly fogged up and folding them to put on the nearby nightstand, then popping the button of his jeans and dragging the zipper down agonizingly slow. His hips jerked up, chasing your touch, and you could see the way his cock twitched under his boxers, desperate for relief.

“I want to,” you murmured, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down just enough to free him.

Armin gasped as the cool air hit his flushed skin, his cock springing free—hard, leaking, and so fucking pretty. You licked your lips, watching the way his stomach clenched as you wrapped your fingers around him, giving him a slow stroke.

“Fuck,” he whined, his head falling back against the pillow.

You didn’t tease him any longer. Leaning down, you dragged your tongue over the head of his cock, tasting the salty-sweet pre-cum beading at the tip. Armin’s hips jerked, a broken noise tearing from his throat as you took him into your mouth.

It was messy—you were both still a little drunk, your movements sloppy and uncoordinated—but that just made it hotter. You sucked him deep, your tongue swirling around his shaft as you bobbed your head, spit dripping down your chin.

Armin was losing it. His fingers tangled in your hair, not pushing, just holding on for dear life as he whimpered above you. “Oh—oh God—your mouth—fuck—”

You hollowed your cheeks, sucking harder, and his thighs trembled under you. His cock pulsed against your tongue, and you could tell he was already close—his breath was coming in ragged gasps, his hips twitching like he was trying not to thrust up into your throat.

“I—I’m gonna—” he choked out, his voice high and desperate.

You didn’t let up. Instead, you took him deeper, your nose brushing the coarse blond curls at the base of his cock, and that was all it took.

Armin came with a broken cry, his back arching off the bed as he spilled hot and thick down your throat. You swallowed around him, milking him through it until he was squirming from oversensitivity, his hands weakly tugging at your hair.

“Too much—too much—” he whined, his whole body trembling.

You pulled off with a wet pop, licking your lips as you looked up at him. His face was flushed, his lips parted as he panted, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Armin’s chest heaved as he blinked up at you, dazed and wrecked, his cock still twitching against his stomach. His cheeks burned even redder as he stammered,

“S-Sorry—I didn’t mean to—fuck, I just—”

You cut him off with a kiss, licking into his mouth so he could taste himself on your tongue. He moaned, his hands gripping your hips like he was afraid you’d pull away.

“Don’t apologize,” you murmured against his lips, grinding down against his thigh, letting him feel how soaked you still were. “Just fuck me.”

Armin’s breath hitched, his cock already stiffening again at the words. His hands slid down to your ass, squeezing greedily as he nodded, his voice rough.

“Yeah—yeah, okay—turn around—”

Armin's hands trembled as he helped you turn around, his breath coming in ragged gasps against the back of your neck. You could feel the heat radiating off his body as he knelt behind you, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans.

"Fuck," he groaned, dragging the denim down your thighs inch by inch, his voice thick with want. "Look at you—fuck—your ass is so perfect—"

The cool air hit your bare skin as he peeled your jeans off completely, leaving you in just your soaked panties. His fingers traced the curve of your ass, squeezing lightly before sliding between your thighs, rubbing over the damp fabric.

"So wet," he murmured, his voice wrecked. He hooked his fingers into your panties next, pulling them down slowly, his breath hitching as your pussy was finally exposed to him. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard."

His thumbs spread you open, and you could feel his hot gaze raking over every inch of you—your swollen lips, the way you dripped for him, the way your ass arched back, begging for him.

"Hang on, okay?" He said quietly, and you felt the bed shift with his weight. Then you heard the unmistakeable sound of a wrapper being opened. "Don't ask why I know where Jean keeps his condoms. He... likes to brag," Armin said sheepishly, making you giggle as you heard him whimper slightly as he presumably rolled the condom on.

Armin’s fingers dug into your hips as he lined himself up, the blunt head of his cock nudging against your soaked entrance. He hesitated just for a second, his voice shaky with drunken lust and nerves.

“Fuck—I—I might not last, I’m sorry—”

But you barely heard him, because then he was pushing in, slow, that perfect curve of his cock hitting every sweet spot on the way. Your breath stuttered as he filled you, thick and throbbing, and a greedy moan tore from your throat before you could stop it.

“Oh fuck—” Your hands fisted the sheets, your back arching deeper, chest pressing into the mattress. “Yes—just like that, Armin.”

Armin groaned behind you, his hips stuttering as he bottomed out, his grip on you tightening like he was afraid you’d disappear. “You feel—fuck—you feel so good."

You clenched around him, and he whimpered, his cock twitching inside you like he was already fighting not to spill. But you didn’t care—not when he fit this perfectly, not when every ragged breath he took sent sparks through your veins.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, knuckles white, as you rolled your hips back to meet his shallow thrusts. The new angle let you feel him even deeper, and you gasped, your back bowing as a shiver ran down your spine.

Armin choked out a whimper, his hands scrambling for purchase on your hips as he bottomed out, his thighs trembling against yours. “Y-You feel—fuck—so tight—”

You grinned into the mattress, rolling your hips to take him deeper, and he let out a broken noise, his nails biting into your skin. He was already unraveling, his cock pulsing inside you, and you loved it—the way he couldn’t hold back, the way he was falling apart just for you.

Armin’s hips snapped forward with a desperate, sloppy thrust, his cock sinking deep into your dripping cunt as a broken moan tore from his throat. His hands gripped your ass, spreading you wider as he watched, his dick glistening with your slick as it disappeared inside you again and again.

“Fuck—look at you—” he panted, his voice wrecked, pupils blown black with lust. “Taking me so good—your pussy’s sucking me in.”

You whimpered, your fingers clawing at the sheets as his cock dragged against your walls, the curve of him hitting that sweet spot with every rough snap of his hips. Your vision blurred, pleasure coiling tight in your stomach as he fucked into you with unsteady, frantic strokes—like he was already on the edge, but needed to make you feel it too.

“You’re—ngh—you’re so tight—” Armin groaned, his hips stuttering as he tried to hold back. His cock twitched inside you, swollen and throbbing, his balls drawing up tight. “Gonna—gonna cum—shit—but I wanna make you feel it first—”

His hand slid around your hip, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing rough, frantic circles as he fucked you harder. You gasped, your back arching, your cunt clenching around him as pleasure sparked white-hot under your skin.

“There—right there—” you babbled, your voice shaking. “Armin—fuck—don’t stop—”

He whined, his thrusts turning erratic, his cock pulsing inside you as he teetered on the edge. “You—you like that? Like how I fuck you?” he slurred, his words dripping with filthy praise. “God, your pussy’s gripping me—squeezing my cock—fuck, I can’t—can’t—”

His hips jerked, his rhythm faltering as his orgasm ripped through him. He buried himself to the hilt with a choked-off moan, his cum flooding the inside of the condom.

You felt it—every twitch, every throb of his cock as he emptied himself inside you, his fingers still working your clit desperately, like he couldn’t stop even as he came.

“Fuck—fuck—” he gasped, his voice wrecked, his forehead dropping between your shoulder blades as he shuddered through the aftershocks.

You weren’t far behind. The filthy sound of him filling you, the way his cock kept twitching inside you as he panted against your back—it pushed you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you, your cunt clenching around him as you cried out, your thighs shaking, your nails digging into the mattress.

Armin groaned, his hips grinding weakly against your ass as he milked his own pleasure.

“Shit—” he mumbled, dazed, his voice slurred with booze and bliss. “You—you just came on my dick..." He pulled out, discarding the condom into a nearby trashcan.

You laughed breathlessly, your body still thrumming with pleasure as you collapsed onto the mattress beneath you. Armin followed, his chest pressing against your back as he nuzzled into your neck.

“You’re… really good at that,” you murmured, your voice hazy.

Armin huffed a drunken laugh against your skin, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your hip. “Yeah?”

“Yeah," you sighed, grinning as you felt his dick twitch against the skin of your ass.

He kissed your shoulder, his lips soft and sweet despite the filth that had just spilled from them. “...Wanna go again?”

You turned your head just enough to catch his gaze—his flushed cheeks, his messy hair, his stupidly pretty eyes—and grinned.

“Obviously.”

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ UNTITLED kim chaewon x reader

❀ ͘ ⴰ previous chapters | richgirl ⭢ that girl (she’s delicious) ⭢ idon’t smoke ⭢ pretty when you cry ⭢ homesick ⭢ super rich kids ⭢ girl, so confusing ⭢ consume (bonus) ⭢ take your mask off ⭢ carmen

↳ warnings richgirl!yn, eunchae and yn (…) , angst, guilt, a lot of confusion, over working, mentions of fainting, mentions of not eating, more guilt , alcohol, panic attacks

the beat of the music filled the practice room, accompanied by the steady sound of yn’s footsteps of her soft breathing.

slumped against the wall, eunchae took a slow sip of her water, her gaze fixed on yn’s fluid movements. each step was sharp yet effortless, every transition seamless. was it envy that stirred in her chest? or admiration? maybe both.

eunchae struggled to make sense of her feelings toward yn. for the longest time, she never really questioned them, they weren’t truly hers to begin with. they had been shaped by the group, molded by offhand comments, especially from chaewon.

but lately, as she got older, she started to realize that maybe just maybe she didn’t actually feel the way she thought she did.

if she was being honest, she thought yn was pretty cool. her confidence on stage was something eunchae found herself watching closely, analyzing every movement, every expression. there were times she wanted to ask for advice, to learn how yn carried herself with such ease. but she never did. she wasn’t sure how the others would react.

yn’s work ethic wasn’t something the girls ever praised. in fact, it was barely acknowledged at all.

which kind of sucked. eunchae would never admit it, but she paid a lot of attention to yn.

she noticed things the other girls probably didn’t the way yn’s shoulders tensed ever so slightly when someone brought up her family, the look in her eyes, like stars that were about burst and not in a good way, but it was very hypnotizing it was even more obvious when she looked at chaewon.

she noticed the hospital bracelets that would sometimes appear on yn’s wrist, the way she never mentioned them, how no one ever asked. she noticed how yn never cried, not once.

there were times when she wanted to ask yn what was wrong why she wore that hospital bracelet, why her whole body seemed to tense at the mere mention of her family. but she never did. she was always too scared, like she had no right to ask, not after spending so long blindly following the other girls.

but right now, it was just them. alone.

no one was here to watch. no one was here to judge. for once, she could say or do whatever she wanted toward yn without worrying about anyone else’s opinion.

and that’s when it hit her she had never actually spoken to yn one on one before. there was always someone else.

eunchae took a deep breath, steadying herself.

"unnie?"

yn turned around abruptly, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "me?" she pointed to herself, as if unsure she had heard correctly.

eunchae nodded.

there was a brief pause before yn sighed, adjusting the waistband of her baggy sweatpants before finally reaching for the speaker, pressing pause on the music. with another deep breath, she made her way toward eunchae, the confusion still evident on her face.

"yes..." yn dragged out, glancing down at eunchae, who was still sitting cross legged on the floor.

"how do you get these moves down so quickly?" eunchae asked, her voice curious but soft. "you’re always so ahead of us."

yn furrowed her brows at the question, then slowly lowered herself to sit across from the younger girl.

she stared at eunchae for a moment, thoughtful, almost hesitant. then she shook her head. "I can’t tell you that."

eunchae’s face fell slightly. "why not?"

"because it’s not healthy," yn replied with a small shrug. 

“and I don’t want to be the reason you pick up bad habits... gives everyone more reason to look at me the way they already do."

eunchae frowned. she didn’t like that word—unhealthy.

“is that why you always have those bracelets on?” she asked quietly.

yn’s eyes widened like she hadn’t expected that question at all. “what are you talking about?”

“you know,” eunchae said simply, her gaze steady.

yn paused, caught off guard, then scoffed softly. “how do you know about that? did sakura tell you?”

eunchae blinked. she noticed it right away, yn didn’t call her sakura unnie.

sakura had always had her opinions about yn, sure, but lately, she’d been more... involved. 

always asking where yn was, questioning her when she came back late, showing concern in her own awkward way.

eunchae had honestly thought maybe they were getting closer.

but the way yn said her name flat, distant, made it clear she didn’t see it that way. not even close.

“no, she didn’t,” eunchae said quickly. “I’ve always noticed.”

yn kept her gaze locked on the younger girl before sighing, her eyes dropping to the floor. 

“if she did, you can just tell me. she’s been watching me like a hawk lately, like I’m about to break or something. and now you’re here, asking questions too.” she looked up again, expression unreadable. “I don’t get why she’s suddenly acting like she cares. and  I really don’t get why you’resuddenly interested in me.”

eunchae flinched. the way yn said it, like she was catching onto something, like she’d figured her out but she had it all wrong.

“I’ve always been interested in you,” eunchae said, voice quieter now, more vulnerable. yn let out a soft, almost disbelieving laugh.

“it’s true,” eunchae insisted, eyes wide. “I just... there were so many opinions. and I didn’t know what was real.”

“eunchae...” yn said her name like she didn’t believe a word of it.

“I’m not lying!” eunchae’s voice suddenly rose, surprising even herself and definitely surprising yn, who flinched just slightly, eyes blinking fast.

“I was confused,” she continued, breath shaking. “these past few months have been hard for all of us in different ways. and I’ve been watching you... run off to find comfort in another group, and—” she swallowed, “—and it makes my chest feel weird. you’re supposed to be like a sister to me, but you don’t even look at me like that. and it’s my fault, because of the way I acted. I made it that way.”

eunchae let out a deep sigh, like she’d just sprinted a mile, before glancing at yn who was still just sitting there, quietly watching her.

“what part of the choreo do you need help with?” yn asked suddenly.

“what?” eunchae blinked, confused, watching as yn stood and made her way toward the speaker.

“what part do you need help on?” yn repeated, more softly this time as she crouched to pause the music and rewind it a few counts.

eunchae stood up, trailing behind her with a puzzled expression. she’d just spilled her heart out laid it all bare and this was yn’s response?

yn turned to face her again, eyes calm, a faint smile pulling at the corner of her lips. “I might not be able to show you my work ethic,” she said with a small shrug, “but I can help you polish some moves.”

oh.

it clicked then.

yn was a closed off person. always had been. eunchae couldn’t even blame her, just from the stories her own parents told about the moon family, it was easy to understand why yn kept her walls high and voice low when it came to herself.

so if this offer to rehearse, this quiet gesture was yn’s way of trying to connect with her, trying to understand, trying to forgive.

then yeah.

she’d take it.

chaewon was on edge.

she’d been trying to act normal, keyword trying but it wasn’t working. not when her mind kept circling back to yn.

granted, yn was always somewhere in her thoughts. but this time, it was different. sharper. heavier.

she couldn’t stop replaying the way yn had spoken to her brother how cold and commanding her voice had sounded, like she wasn’t asking him to make them leave, she was ordering it. 

how her hand had wrapped around chaewon’s wrist, not too tight but just enough to make her skin burn hours later. and her words low, quiet, like a secret meant only for chaewon to hear. almost threatening. almost dangerous.

and yet, all chaewon could think about was how her heart had raced like yn was daring her to cross a line and how badly she wanted to.

did she even want to? because while chaewon had been spiraling, turning that night over and over in her head like a loop she couldn’t pause, yn had been acting like it never even happened.

like she hadn’t grabbed her, hadn’t said those words, hadn’t left her standing there with a pulse that wouldn’t slow down.

and it wasn’t just her. everyone had been spiraling lately, weeks, maybe months of silent tension. chaewon had started to notice the way the other girls looked at yn now not with annoyance or judgment like before, but with something closer to pity. concern. even fear, sometimes.

except for kazuha. kazuha’s eyes had always been soft when they landed on yn, but now it was different. more constant. like she knew something the rest of them didn’t.

chaewon didn’t get it. when had the switch up happened?  if anything, yn should be the last person anyone was worried about. she was the one with a safety net, a massive one family name, family money, a house bigger than their dorm stacked with backup plans. when things got hard, she could just go home to her mansion. easy.

yeah, yn doesn’t need her concern.

the sound of the door opening broke through the quiet of the dorm, making chaewon glance up from her phone. she didn’t need to look to know who it was who else would be coming in this late, giggling?

“how do you get drunk off soju?” kazuha laughed, her arm looped casually around yn’s waist as she guided her inside.

“i’m not drunk,” yn mumbled, brushing her off with a lazy wave of her hand. “I just don’t drink much.”

“so... people who don’t drink get drunk easily?” kazuha teased.

“you literally just admitted you’re drunk,” kazuha said, laughing as she looked at her.

“can I sleep in your room tonight?” yn asked, her voice soft, almost slurred as she leaned in closer.

kazuha smiled and nodded without hesitation, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

chaewon cleared her throat, loud, pointed. both of them turned at the sound.

her eyes narrowed immediately at the sight of kazuha’s arm still around yn’s waist.

“have fun?” she asked flatly, voice clipped.

“yeah,” yn giggled, leaning further into kazuha, her cheek brushing the girl’s shoulder as she grinned up at her. kazuha just shook her head fondly, like she was used to it.

kazuha guided yn toward the couch and gently plopped her down beside chaewon, flashing the older girl a tight smile. “I’ll be back. gonna set up my room and grab some stuff from hers,” she said before disappearing down the hall.

chaewon opened her mouth to say to protest but kazuha was already gone.

she looked down at yn, whose head was tilted back against the couch cushion, eyes glazed, but still somehow focused on her.

yn mumbled something.

“what?” chaewon leaned in, her tone harsh but curious.

“my mom said some stuff to me earlier today…” yn murmured, voice dragging like she was sleep talking. “I wonder if she even knows what she does to me... probably. you’re lucky.”

chaewon scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I’m lucky? your family is probably one of the most privileged in the country.”

“i hate it when you do that,” yn muttered, looking at her own nails like they were more interesting than this conversation. “you don’t know anything.”

“I know enough.”

“you don’t,” yn snapped, a little louder, a little more slurred. “for someone with such strong opinions on me, maybe you should actually type my family’s name into google.”

chaewon blinked. the words felt like a challenge and a warning.

“maybe I will.”

“okay!” kazuha’s voice chimed suddenly, making chaewon look up. she was now dressed in comfortable sweats, hair loosely tied back, and already reaching down to grab yn by the arm. “we’re off to bed.”

yn let herself be pulled up with a lazy grin, mumbling something incoherent as kazuha wrapped an arm around her waist again.

chaewon watched in silence as the two disappeared down the hall, the door to kazuha’s room clicking shut a few seconds later.

she glanced back down at her phone, her fingers hovering for a moment before she finally started typing

moon family

it’s 3 am.

chaewon’s eyes burned, but she couldn’t stop scrolling.

the soft glow of her phone screen lit the dark room, casting sharp shadows across her face, now pale and tense. article after article… her thumb moved on autopilot. 

she had searched moon family scandals at first, expecting typical rich family drama  inheritance battles, corporate cover ups. but what she found made her stomach twist, nothing she hadn’t heard of before but it felt different actually reading about it.

“young heiress moon yn collapses during charity gala.” “lesserafim's moon yn appears exhausted in recent schedule, fans express concern.” “rumors of frequent hospital visits continue to follow the moon family.”

she had known, everyone had known, in that vague, offhand way the moon family has their issues,they’re all a little unstable, yn’s kind of... different.

but not like this.

not like article after article detailing yn’s episodes.

not like video clips embedded in the text, a much younger yn, dressed in a pale blue designer dress, barely fourteen, suddenly stumbling mid-speech, staff rushing forward as the crowd gasped. the camera caught her face before she went down, eyes wide, glassy, almost confused , like she hadn’t even realized something was wrong.

chaewon’s heart slammed in her chest.

her breath came faster now,  she could feel it. panic.

but she couldn’t look away.

another article

“moon yn escorted out of award ceremony after looking visibly unwell.” “moon yn seen wearing a hospital bracelet while out with ningning of aespa fans voice concern.”

chaewon’s hands were trembling.

a memory came uninvited , yn walking past her one evening, hoodie sleeves pulled down, but chaewon had seen it. the edge of a plastic band peeking out before yn quickly adjusted her sleeve.

at the time, chaewon had just brushed it off.

sakura said something about a hospital bracelet recently… 

she squeezed her eyes shut, god.

her thoughts spiraled.

yn , always sitting out when the food arrived. always claiming she wasn’t hungry, yn swaying slightly during rehearsal, brushing it off like it was nothing, yn brushing past her with that same cold look, one chaewon had assumed was arrogance.

chaewon’s chest ached. her throat tightened.

what have i done?

she couldn’t breathe.

her mind wouldn’t stop replaying the last few months, all the cruel words, the passive digs, the tension she always justified as something yn deserved.

she’s spoiled. she doesn’t try hard enough. she thinks she’s better than us.

but now it all felt hollow.

the cruel, dismissive way she treated her. the things she said. the things she ignored.

what would her iz*one members think? is this the same fun and caring chaewon they once knew? 

snap out of it , she thought bitterly what’s happening to me 

chaewon was shaking now, full body tremors as she tried to take in air. her legs kicked the blanket off the couch in a panic, as if the fabric was strangling her.

she pressed her palm against her forehead, fingers digging into her scalp.

and then  yn’s voice echoed in her mind.

“you’re lucky.”

chaewon had rolled her eyes. you’re the rich one, you’re set for life, she’d thought.

but yn’s voice it had cracked when she said it.

suddenly, chaewon couldn’t stay still. her body moved before her mind could process.

she got up, legs weak, jelly like. her knees almost buckled on the way down the hallway. everything felt distant, her body vibrating with adrenaline and shame. she stopped in front of kazuha’s door, hand hovering.

and then she opened it.

the moonlight filtering through the window made the room glow faintly. there, tangled in soft blankets, was yn  passed out, her mouth slightly parted, hair messily falling across the pillow.

kazuha lay beside her, fast asleep, one hand draped protectively across yn’s waist.

chaewon stared.

she didn’t know what she had expected. tears? peace? answers?

but instead, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding a breath that shook through her chest and slipped out as a quiet, strangled sound.

she closed the door gently, barely able to make it two steps before her back hit the wall.

and then she slid down, all the way to the floor.

knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped around them, her breathing finally slowing but the weight in her chest heavier than ever.

she had just needed to see her.

she didn’t know why.

but she had to.

her mind was spiraling, only with yn, everything just of yn.

yn.

yn.

[partiallysame]

Okay okay, I LOVEE your writing. & I was wondering if you could work your magic for a little idea I had. Hear me out fem nanny x John price .

Price divorced dad of an infant hires a nanny to watch over sweet little baby thing while he's overseas but comes home early in the middle of the night without notice, ☀️ nanny hears footsteps in the house and in a frantic rush grabs a weapon and hides the baby & herself 😭 idk why I need this but I need to know how John reacts

I hope you like it!!!

John Price x Nanny!reader

The last thing Captain John Price ever expected was a week old infant being dropped in his hands from a one night stand but here he was. The only thing that got him through it was you, his new nanny. You came highly recommended from a few different higher ups who had hired you to help their wives while they were away for long periods of time. Years of experience and too many references to count, John didn’t think twice about hiring you, especially after he saw how good you were with his tiny newborn daughter. He was scared to even touch the poor thing but you walked him through step by step how to care for his daughter. He had turned down a few different missions but this one he wasn’t allowed to say no to. Leaving his 6 week old daughter for two months was not what he wanted to do but he trusted you, and was overjoyed when he was able to return home a week early.

The first sign that panicked you was the neighbor’s dogs barking. You’ve been living in this house for almost 4 months now and have never once heard them bark. Then the security lights in the front of the house lit up and you could hear the doorknob rattling. Fuck. You could feel the pit in your stomach growing, something’s wrong. Reaching under the bed to pull out a hunting knife you had found one day putting away laundry. You really shouldn’t have been surprised when you kept finding hidden weapons in a military captain’s house. Knife in hand you made your way to the room next to you, to grab the baby. The creak of the front door opening sent you into full fight or flight. Hearing the heavy steps at the bottom of the stairs, you quickly grabbed the sleeping infant. “We’re gonna play a lil game of hide and seek ok?” you quietly whispered to her, placing a soft kiss on her forehead as you peaked out her bedroom door to make sure the hallway was clear before making your way to the large closet in the master bedroom. The only closet with a lock on it. You could hear the footsteps get closer, your heartrate picking up as you locked the two of you in the closet. Holding the sweet baby tight to your chest.  

Now John began to panic when he went to check on his daughter and she wasn’t there. His feet started moving faster to find your room empty too, a glass of water spilled on the floor, one you hadn’t even realized you had knocked over in your rush out of the room. But what really sent him into a frenzy was the small stuffed bear on the floor in the hallway. The one his baby girl never let go of and would not sleep without. The Captain pulled his gun out and began clearing rooms looking for you two.

As you heard doors begin slamming and the noises of the intruder growing louder you placed the sleeping infant behind a few boxes, out of sight, before standing in front of her and facing the door. The doorknob twisted a few times, the intruder trying to get in, one hand covered your mouth to keep from screaming while the other had a white knuckle grip on the large knife. Suddenly the door flew open, Price kicking it down. You twisted the knife around in your hand, bringing both hands up ready to fight for yours and the child’s life. All you could see was the silhouette of a large man with a gun. The light on in the room behind him, keeping his face dark and identity hidden. Price began to lower his gun, seeing it was you and you started to lunge towards him, knife swinging. He easily dodged and removed the knife from your hands.

“Hey hey y/n. It's me. It's John. You're safe.” You almost didn’t hear him from how hard you had been breathing. His hand went to turn the light in the closet on so he was visible to you. He stood there watching you for a moment, chest heaving and hands still in fists as the adrenaline started to wear off.

“What the fuck John?” He didn’t answer.

“Where’s my daughter?” 

“She’s safe” You stepped to the side and moved the boxes you had hidden her behind. John watched you amazed as you revealed his still sleeping daughter all wrapped up in a blanket, safe and sound. Reaching down to hold his tiny girl in his big hands he couldn’t help but look at you. Your hands shaking, eyes full of fear starting to return to normal. He knew he trusted you with his daughter but now? He’d never let anyone else near her. You were ready to fight a fucking home invader and honestly if it wasn’t him who opened the door, he was pretty sure you would have been successful with the knife in your hand. He’s looking at you, standing in your pajamas, hair messy from sleeping and he’s thinking he doesn’t ever want to be without you.

[pumpkinpaix]

Very curious for your opinion- what do you think of it when people write modern au wwx as being very active in social justice movements? Personally, I can buy it but I don't think it should be a given?

maybe an unwise first question to pick out of my moldering askbox but whatever it's the first one that i felt like i had an answer prepared for off the cuff so yolo i guess!!

short answer: at this point, i don't buy it. It's a detail that I can and have put up with for fics i really like for other reasons, but i think it's pretty far off the mark in terms of how I understand wei wuxian's primary motivating forces.

ok now to get into the weeds! :D

there are several reasons why wei wuxian being heavily involved in social justice movements doesn't ring true to me--the easiest one to point to from outside the narrative is that the sort of activism wei wuxian is written to participate in is often modeled on how social justice circles look in the US. It feels really culturally alienated in a lot of ways. I can't really blame authors for this, though, because it's a very understandable approach to write what you're familiar with--but it does often take me out of the story because i find it kind of jarring, especially if the story in question is ostensibly supposed to be set in China where modern social activism necessarily looks very different than in the states.

but that kind of feels like metagaming the question, so: in terms of interpreting the text, i really just don't think wei wuxian would be inclined to that kind of work for two main reasons.

first: I think he'd be really bad at it lol. social activist movements are necessarily collaborative, and wei wuxian is kind of terrible at playing well with others, compromising, discussing, etc. he often favors action over diplomacy and has terrible impulse control, tending to act first, think later, often to pretty devastating consequences for the people he's ostensibly standing up for. See: antagonizing Wen Chao, which precipitates the chain of events that ultimately leads to the massacre at Lotus Pier; confronting the jins and basically threatening to kill everyone at jinlin tai if they opposed him, thus alienating all his potential allies and leaving the wen remnants essentially completely dependent on his individual power for survival etc. thus dooming them entirely when he died.

(also see: "can we stop talking and just start killing each other" at guanyin temple)

even really minor events in the past show the same kind of pattern, such as at the qishan conference when he throws his support behind wen ning as an archery competitor--wen ning panics in the spotlight and flubs his shots to public ridicule from being put on the spot. jiang cheng is the one who drags him away in mortification while wei wuxian simply doesn't give a shit about how it reflects upon him, not really considering how it might reflect on his sect.

i'm not saying that these were "wrong" actions to take in the moment: wei wuxian has an admirable righteous streak. he does not, however, always take other people into consideration when he makes his decisions. he basically ignores anyone who tries to change his behavior, sometimes carelessly, sometimes reacting with anger (Jiang Cheng, Lan Wangji, literally everyone post-sunshot frankly). that kind of individualist mentality is really ill-suited to activism, which requires an understanding that the individual has less power than the group and that you cannot bend the world around you. a lot of fandom comes down super hard on characters like jiang cheng and yu ziyuan for the things they say to wei wuxian, but i think they're honestly quite understandable, even if the way they express themselves is sometimes cruel or hurtful. the rationale isn't particularly surprising. It's one thing to act in a way that gets yourself hurt. It's another to do so when you know that your position will drag a whole lot of others down with you.

i feel that even if wei wuxian had the interest in joining a social activist group, he would probably eventually butt heads with the others until they either expelled him or he left himself. his thick skin would be a great tool in certain calculated actions (he would do very well as a symbol or a charismatic fall guy) but unfortunately, he's not very good at listening or adhering to a plan.

second: i just don't think wei wuxian thinks about systems of oppression very much. i summarized how i feel about his relationship to class already in this post from like 4.5 years ago (jeez.....) and I still stand by it! wei wuxian is not particularly class conscious because he is, in fact, relatively wealthy. he also like, pretty clearly doesn't think very hard about women's work or status either, except in personal terms--after all, he plays with A'Yuan frivolously, planting him in the dirt and does not think about the kind of work that goes into maintaining a standard of living, which is often women's work. (before anyone says anything, yes, i am aware he is not outright misogynist about women's work). throughout the text, wei wuxian just doesn't put a whole lot of thought into how a woman's gender might affect her status and power.

furthermore, this is kind of mentioned in the class meta, but again--wei wuxian's defense of the wen remnants isn't singularly motivated by the desire to uplift an oppressed class, because the wens are not an oppressed class. They are a sect, which is both familial and alliance-based, not an ethnic group or a class of people. Their treatment is still unconscionable, but it's not systemic oppression. the attempted killing of all the wens is not much different than xue yang's vendetta against the yueyang chang clan, except in scale. and until wen qing comes and personally begs him to help her find her brother, wei wuxian doesn't really have any thoughts to spare for the wen remnants and how they might be faring. he goes to help wen qing and wen ning because he owes them both a serious personal debt, which is something that he feels strongly about! and once he gets to the camps, he obviously isn't going to just ignore the other people suffering (esp because they are the wen sibs' immediate family). he is righteous, after all, but often fails to apply it in a big-picture way.

wei wuxian cares a lot about paying back those who have been kind to him or have helped him, which is pretty evident through his self-sacrificing streak throughout the narrative. he often forgets or deliberately does not take his own well-being into consideration--but, as established, he also forgets that he is not an isolated entity and that his well-being is tied to the well-being of others as well.

throwing himself in front of the brand to save mianmian, making sure everyone else gets out of the cave before he does, immediately coming to terms with having his right hand cut off, giving up his golden core, publicly distancing himself from yunmeng, personally defending the wen remnants, taking jin ling's curse mark onto himself, making himself into the yin flag at the second siege and so on--it's all one long extension of paying back debts, in some way.

personally, I think this is because he considers his entire life to be one that is owed--his life, his skills, his body etc. is all owed to others. I also think, however, that this tendency is often confused by fandom into characterizing wei wuxian as having low self-esteem, which he patently does not. wei wuxian thinks he's hot shit. he's arrogant, a show-off, and is so insistent in his own skills and abilities that he icaruses himself into literal bits. when he thinks he's about to lose his right hand he's like welp. guess i gotta learn how to do this with my left, without really any question about whether or not he can. of course he can! he's wei wuxian! can he bring wen ning back from the dead? for sure!! definitely!!!! can he totally do this night hunt blindfolded? hell yeah he can! and he's usually right. i think wei wuxian has very low self-worth, which is a different thing: he throws himself away at the drop of a hat for others that he cares about or feels indebted to because, whether consciously or unconsciously, he thinks that their well-being, survival, happiness etc. is something he should ensure at any cost, even himself because he owes it to them. he owes his whole existence!

so circling back to the initial topic, I think this pattern of thinking is pretty at odds with social activism. he puts those he feels he owes above himself, but doesn't have a lot of attention to spare for people he considers irrelevant--which is most people. (never learning jin zixun's name, for example). I think that while he understands the nature of systems of oppression to a certain degree (like, he understands jin guangyao's motivations, but he's not particularly interested or sympathetic), it's not something he's really passionate about correcting. his reaction mostly seems to be like "well, that sucks". he only really goes out of his way to defend those that he has personal affairs with or those that happen to pique his notice

wei wuxian doesn't actually have big-picture ambitions. he didn't want to be a leader of anything or start his own sect or anything else. he doesn't spend much of his thoughts on making a better world so much as how he might be able to be content in the world that exists with the people that he cares about. that kind of self-focused drive leaves me unconvinced that he would get involved in social justice in any meaningful way in a modern au. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i think that makes him a really fun protagonist, tbh. the tension between his selfishness and his propensity for self-sacrifice makes for a very interesting dynamic.

.....

:'] i guess i never left the weeds.

(ko-fi)

[kxsagi]

can I request the "think fast I'm another girl" trend (especially with itoshi bros please?)

“𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭, 𝐢’𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥”

a/n: i saw this trend (where you force your bf into emotional whiplash saying "think fast, i'm another girl!" and they have to react as they would if you were a stranger) and thought it would be a bit funnier if you tried to make yourself look different with a disguise, like a wig and sunglasses or something 😭 different makeup and a sexy outfit wouldn’t hurt too ngl

ft. itoshi rin, itoshi sae, isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma, kunigami rensuke, kaiser michael, otoya eita, karasu tabito, yukimiya kenyu

itoshi rin

doesn’t even blink. just deadpans, “okay. i’ll call security.” 

you try to kiss him and he dodges with perfect timing, like you’re a soccer ball he’s parrying. 

“don’t touch me. i don’t know you.” 

actually pulls out his phone and threatens to call sae. 

when you break and start laughing, he side-eyes you so hard. “you’re so annoying. you’re lucky i love you.” but he still doesn’t let you kiss him for the next hour out of spite. 

itoshi sae

you say “think fast, i’m another girl” and he sighs like he’s too old for this. 

“is this one of those tiktok things?” 

you try to kiss him and he puts a spoonful of ice cream in your mouth to shut you up. 

“go flirt with shidou if you want someone who panics.” 

he doesn’t move an inch. just sits there watching you clown around, trying to kiss him all over his face. 

and the minute you break and start laughing? 

he smirks. “still picked me though, didn’t you?” 

you never win with him. 

isagi yoichi

bro jumps back so hard he almost sprains an ankle. hands go up like he's getting arrested. 

“W-WHO ARE YOU? WHO SENT YOU? I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND.” 

looks personally offended like how dare you try to tempt a loyal man. 

dead serious: “i would never betray her. i hope you get the help you need.” 

when you laugh, he’s like: “wait. baby? WHAT THE HELL. you scared the LIFE outta me.” 

starts rambling about loyalty and trust and how he's a one-woman man while still catching his breath. 

bachira meguru

“ANOTHER girl?! okay wait let me text my girlfriend real quick i don’t wanna die yet –” 

runs around the couch like it’s tag. 

“she’s crazy! she’s hot, but she’s crazy!” 

he finally lets you “catch” him but as you try to kiss him he covers your mouth with his hand like “nope. not today, stranger danger.” 

once you admit it was a prank, he dramatically collapses on the floor like, “you almost ruined my life.” 

still makes out with you 2 seconds later. 

nagi seishiro

you go “think fast, i’m another girl” and he just blinks at you like 🧍‍♂️

“what does that mean?” 

you start kissing him and he physically tilts his head back like a confused cat. 

“but you look like my girlfriend. am i dreaming? is this a side quest?” 

gives up and lets you kiss him while lying down. 

“this feels illegal. but i’m too lazy to stop you.” 

when you tell him it’s a trend, he just goes, “eh. weird,” and falls asleep mid-cuddle. 

mikage reo

“EXCUSE ME?? GET AWAY FROM ME.” 

immediately reaches for his wallet like you’re gonna rob him. 

gives you the most disgusted rich-boy expression like how dare you touch this luxury item. 

“i have a girlfriend. she’s perfect. she’s rich. from my money. she has taste. unlike you.” 

throws a silk pillow at your face and starts lecturing you on how you “won’t get a man by being this desperate.” 

when you break and say it’s you, he starts fake crying like, “i KNEW it, i knew you were testing me.” 

chigiri hyoma

you do the trend and he just stares at you in betrayal. 

“another girl? really?” 

backs away slowly like you’re a demon sent to ruin his perfect relationship. 

“don’t do this. i thought we were forever.” 

refuses to let you touch him. 

“i can’t believe this. i waited my whole life to find someone like her and now you’re here trying to steal my heart? no. no, i won’t fall for it.” 

will only kiss you once you say “it’s me, hyoma” three times like a ritual spell. 

kunigami rensuke (pre-wild card)

you do the trend and this man immediately stiffens like a soldier. 

“DON’T YOU DARE.” 

pushes your face away with his giant palm like you’re trying to kiss the hulk. 

“i’m in a committed relationship. please leave.” 

full-on stands up and starts pacing like he’s been traumatized. 

“i should go to the gym. she’d never try this kind of psychological warfare at the gym.” 

ends up sulking and refusing kisses for an hour until you bribe him with protein bars. 

kaiser michael

dramatic gasp. puts a hand on his chest. “whoa whoa whoa, sweetheart, i’m taken!” 

immediately switches into fake flirt mode, like, “listen sweetheart, i know i’m irresistible, but i have a girlfriend and she’s crazy hot so i’m gonna have to reject you.” 

lets you kiss him anyway while saying, “don’t tell her, okay? you’re just too cute to say no to.” 

when you break character he flips the script like, “oh? you’re the one who kissed me, cheater.” 

king of gaslighting his way into being the victim somehow. 

shidou ryusei

bro immediately switches to full diva mode, snapping his fingers. 

“oh, babe. sorry, but i'm gay.” 

“soooooo, you're cute and all, but i’m just not interested in women. not my vibe, hun.” 

puts a hand on his hip and starts twirling like he’s in a musical, fully enjoying this performance. 

when you try to kiss him, he swats you away like a fly and does the full hair flip. 

“please, you’re not my type. i’m more of a… someone who’s more like me kinda guy, y’know?” 

starts blowing kisses in the air like he’s on a runway, living his best life. 

once you break, he laughs and goes, “you almost got me there. if i was straight though, you’d be in trouble!” 

“girl, i’d have you locked up in my love dungeon, but i’m just too fabulous for you.” 

continues to sashay away dramatically. 

otoya eita

“damn, really? she lets me cheat on her now?” 

tries to kiss you back IMMEDIATELY and says, “what she doesn’t know won’t kill her.” 

full smirk. hand on your waist. too smooth. 

“i mean, she’s pretty… but you might be more fun.” 

the second you drop character and hit him, he laughs so hard and goes, “what? i passed! that’s reverse psychology, baby.” 

absolutely knows what the trend is and plays into it just to mess with you. 

ends with you threatening to throw his designer cologne out and him going “whoa whoa whoa, i love you, i love you, chill!” 

karasu tabito

“huh? ew. not interested.” 

does NOT even look at you. 

full-on gives you the back of his hand like “bye.” 

when you try to kiss him, he physically ducks and goes, “are you serious? do you wanna get slapped?” 

“i’m loyal. i’m faithful. i’m sexy. go away.” 

but you keep pushing and he starts freaking out. 

“bro if my girl sees this i’m dead. i’m not dying over YOU.” 

when you laugh and reveal it’s you, he literally starts chasing you around the house yelling, “WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO ME?? I PANICKED.” 

definitely calls you “menace” as a love language after that. 

yukimiya kenyu

he turns around so fast and gasps like a proper k-drama lead. 

“i-i’m flattered, but i have someone already. i’m sorry.” 

puts a gentle hand over his chest like he’s heartbroken. 

“i could never betray her. even if you looked just like her.” 

literally poetic about it. 

“her eyes shine just like yours… but she’s the only one for me.” 

when you start laughing, he blinks and goes: “… it was you, wasn’t it.” 

turns red instantly and hides his face like “gosh, i’m so embarrassing.” 

you keep kissing him just to make him flustered again. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[urinarythreatinfection]

Surprise

Shanks x Bottom Male Reader. Smut. 2790 words. Fem Vers

Desc: You plan a surprise for your bummed lover

cw: Feminine lingerie, public-ish sex, unprotected sex.

You and Shanks don’t get all the time in the world to be able to go on dates, even if pirates are considered to be free. Sure, he has his own treasurer and other crewmates to take care of tedious paperwork, but there are still things that only a Yonko with multiple islands and fleets can do. Managing the crew’s morale, not being far from them, not staying on one island for too long, managing the fleets, avoiding other Yonkos’ territories while moving islands; all of it adds up to a real huge hassle. Now with the new generation there are younger, cockier pirates that try to challenge him too. Even more to manage, which is how the two of you and your date plans got ruined. A young cocky pirate snuck onto one of his territories and caused havoc. Luckily there was a fleet stationed there to avoid casualties but they managed to escape. That means your plans have been cancelled. He’s starting to get really jealous of Luffy and his single crew. The small solace is that the kid will have to learn some responsibility if he really ends up as pirate king, even Roger begrudgingly did in his short time. It’s all been such a bummer for Shanks, and you’ve noticed it as you sail. So what have you decided to do about it?

‘...Maybe this is a bad idea.’ You think to yourself as you stare at the lingerie on the bed. Since your date has been cancelled you’ve decided to try something new, something especially exciting to make up for the ruined plans. You know your husband is very receptive to you, adores you, and is really open to trying… new things; so you came up with a plan. You’ll accompany him to the island meeting, which’ll cheer him up on its own, but you’ll give him a surprise. Lingerie under your clothes and a small vibrator hidden inside you, sending him a risque photo in the middle of the meeting. However, this might be too much even for him. You pick up your little camera snail and the photo snail. You’re starting to get nervous. ‘What if he thinks I went too far and I put him in an even worse mood?’ Your worries tell you. You swat them away. No, you will do this. It’ll be fun seeing how Shanks will react and if he does like it he’ll definitely like it a lot. Plus you already have everything ready. Your eyes trail to the little egg vibrator that'll soon be inside you, feeling your face heat up as you feel the ship come to a stop. You’ve docked. It’s time.

_____________________

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” Shanks tells you as the two of you walk. “It’s not gonna be interesting. It’ll just be about threatening the enemies to back off, make an example, and that’s it. It’s mostly to reassure them.”

“I know you’re not looking forward to it, though. You’ve been bummed since we had to leave to come here. Just thought me being here would give you some motivation.” As you expected he brightens and a happy smile forms on his face as he wraps his arm around you.

“You spoil me, hun.” He kisses the side of your head. “And I’m sorry we had to leave, I know you were looking forward to our date too.” The island you were at has an amusement park the both of you were excited for, but his responsibilities have to come first. People’s lives are involved.

“Oh well, it’s simply how things ended up.” You adjust your bag with a sigh as the two of you arrive, walking inside and into the meeting room. The others are already here, brightening when they spot Shanks.

“Chief!” They surround him, glad that he came. There’s the sound of someone clearing their throat, the governor.

“Settle down, the meeting will begin.” At her words the rest of the workers sit back down. The two of you sit next to each other. You were slightly hoping otherwise but as expected the meeting isn’t very interesting. The good thing, and the main reason why Shanks met with them instead of going straight to fighting, is that the governor and her council look very relieved now that he’s here. It may be a small-time pirate to Shanks, but to them it’s someone that could ravage their island without the redhead’s protection. Thankfully the meeting doesn’t feel heavy at all. No panic or mourning since there were no casualties, which means you don’t have to feel guilty when you carefully slip your hand to your inner thigh and flip the switch connected to the vibrator pressed against your prostate. It starts to buzz and Shanks looks at you when you flinch.

“You okay?” He whispers and you nod, letting the meeting continue as you squirm every so often with your shirt strategically covering your crotch. You gulp and take out the photo snail and paper, giving it a small shush so it knows to be silent. Your husband deserves this little pick me up, and this may or may not be for you too. You stand up, excusing yourself to the bathroom; but not after sneakily handing the snail to Shanks with the photo paper. The captain looks confused but takes it, assuming that the squirming must’ve been from you holding your bladder. You head to the bathroom and pull the camera snail from your bag once you’re inside. Shaking slightly, you breathe deeply before dressing yourself down; revealing the lingerie hidden under your clothes. The vibrator has been pressing on your prostate for half an hour, your panties already sticky with cum. The thought of Shanks’s reaction sends a throb of arousal to your dick and you angle the camera up from below, spreading your thighs enough to reveal the remote strapped to your thigh and the way the cable disappears into the fabric behind.

Snap

It snaps the photo. You take another deep breath before clicking the shell of the snail to send it.

(Shanks's POV)

“Hm?” Shanks looks down at the Photo Snail that had been resting on his thigh. It’s tapping his stomach with one of its eyes to grab his attention before opening its mouth. A photo from the bathroom? Or maybe it’s just a note you wanted to pass, maybe you’re not feeling well and this is your way of telling him. His eyebrows furrow in worry and he gives the piece of paper to the snail. It puts it into its mouth, taking a moment to project the photo onto the paper. ‘I should’ve followed.’ He thinks to himself as the now finished photo is ejected from the snail’s mouth. The redhead picks the paper up and his eyes widen seeing what’s displayed. His beautiful husband in sexy lingerie and a remote taped to his inner thigh, the small wire weaving underneath his panties and behind him into his tight heat. His eyes focus on your strained erection, the way the tip is sticky with pre-cum while your face looks into the camera with the heated expression. You gave this to him before you left. ‘The squirming, he… he’s in the bathroom right now.’ It slowly connects inside his head as blood rushes to his head.

Splurt

“Chief!?” The mayor of the island quickly panics as blood spurts from Shanks’s nose at the sight of your secret nude. The secretary walks to him and the captain quickly hides the photo’s visual from their eyes.

“I’m fine I’m fine.” A tissue is handed to him which he puts to his nose, the bleeding calming down before another wave comes out at the realization that you’ve been wearing that this entire time for him. “Excuse me.” He quickly stuffs the photo into his pocket with the snail, tossing the bloody tissue into the trash before speed walking out of the room to the bathroom. He gets to the bathroom door and you falter, putting your clothes on and opening the door.

“Yes?-” You get that out but not much else as he pushes his way into the room, shuts the door, and kisses you. Your hand reaches behind him and locks it, making him grin into the kiss.

“Hiding yourself from me now, hm?” His hand reaches under your shirt, smiling wider when he feels the lacy bra underneath. “And when you interrupted me so confidently.” He gets close to your ear and slips his hand down your waistband. “So naughty.”

“Shanks..” You shiver and he groans when he slips his hand over your erection, feeling how sticky you are. His fingers gently circle the tip before suddenly grabbing your shaft and jerking you off quickly, making you gasp while moaning into his shoulder. He continues while placing loving kisses to your face until you’re close. Before you can cum he stops and pulls his hand away. You lightly glare at him and he gives you a small peck on the lips.

“You’ll get what you want. I just want to get what I want.” He tugs your shirt up to reveal your chest decorated in the lacy bra. “All prettied up for me.” Shanks kisses down your body desperately, pulling your bottoms down with his teeth and hand on the way down. His pupils dilate at the sight of your dick lightly bouncing out from your pants, the fabric of the lingerie barely keeping it inside. Once on his knees he presses his tongue to your clothed tip, savoring the wetness with a groan. He places a kiss onto it, his breath heavy as he messily makes out with your cock; licking and sucking on the fabric until the saliva is mixed with your sperm. By the time he’s finished you’re shaking, struggling to keep yourself standing. You don’t need to anymore though, feeling yourself being lifted up as he rises with his arm under your knees and the hem of your shirt between his teeth. Once you’re up his body pins you to the wall with your legs at his sides. He leans in and kisses you, prying your lips open with his tongue to transfer the cloth from his mouth to yours. Once it’s bitten down he pulls away. “Hold that up for me, handsome.”

“Mm~” You’re only in your lingerie now, your shirt hiding nothing by the hem held between your teeth. You wrap your legs around him tightly and unbutton his shirt, sliding his coat off and shirt off as he holds you up with his body. His hand shuffles down to his pants until you feel his bare length pressing against you. He grinds and you jolt with a small moan, the loveliest sound to him. Next, he pulls your panties to the side just enough to free your erection and reveal your hole to fuck you. The vibrator slips out of you with a tug on the cable and he replaces it with his tip to your entrance. His arm tightens around your body and he slowly sinks you down until you two are joined with matching moans.

“Fuck, I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” His cock throbs inside of you, hard and hot from the picture you surprised him with. He pulls back until only the tip is in, then sinks you down again; slow and steady so you can feel every drag of his dick against your walls. It repeats again and again until you whine.

“Stop teasing me..!” He chuckles at your complaint and finally ups the speed, his strong hold keeping you up while he thrusts in and out of you.

“You’re too sexy not to tease.” He mumbles, sucking a mark onto your pulse point. “Pretty boy.” He grinds forward, rolling his hips so his pelvis presses against your dick before going back to his thrusts. “My boy.” While the pleasure clouds your mind you feel his arm pull back before a buzzing sound is heard.

“What?” You question before yelping when the vibrator is pressed to your frenulum.

“Wouldn’t want this to go to waste, right?” He rips off a piece of the tape strapping the remote to your thigh, using it to stick the bullet snugly onto you. When you squirm he pulls you hard against him. “Nuh uh, handsome. This is for you.” Shanks groans as he thrusts quicker. “All for you.” You whimper and dig your nails into his shoulders, the pain making him gasp and throb inside you. It’s hot, the buzzing on your dick, his length, his body against yours. Your groin pulses with pleasure and you moan as you feel pressure building up inside.

“Shanks~!” You moan and he places a reassuring kiss on your lips.

“Go ahead, hun, cum for me. Cum around your husband’s cock as he fucks you.” His words are the last push and you keen as the pressure bursts, sending dopamine straight to your head as you shoot seed all over your stomach and his. He grunts, panting at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and his thrusts slow.

“(Y/n)? Chief?” Someone asks from the other side. Contrary to common sense, Shanks doesn’t stop. Instead he switches to long deep strokes that move your body with each meet of his hips against you. The movement and jizz causes the vibrator to slide down, yet not enough to stop the buzzing from stimulating you.

“Sorry, he needed a bit of help. He feels sick.” You whimper and he kisses you silent.

“Oh, I hope he feels better soon. The meeting is almost over so he can leave without missing anything important. The only thing missing is your orders.” He pulls away, giving a small shh before speaking.

“I’ll have to help him back to the ship, I can give them to you here.” You clasp a hand over your mouth when he gives a sudden harsh thrust. His jaw clenches for a moment to stop a groan. “..I’ll stay here for a few days to collect info then get my boys to find those troublemakers. We’ll scare 'em then, kill the main ones and you guys-” He gives another harsh thrust. “-can toss the rest in jail. Your choice.” Right after he’s done he presses his lips to yours, his tongue exploring your mouth while going back to his rough pace despite your sensitive body and the person still on the other side of the door.

“Okay then, I'll relay that to everyone else.” They say as Shanks’s thrusts get sloppier, your orgasm is building up again and you don’t know if you can keep quiet enough for them not to hear. You’re trying so hard to hold it in but your husband doesn’t let up at all. “I’ll be seeing you, chief.” His lips leave to press his forehead against yours.

“See you around.” His voice is deep, footsteps getting quiet. The moment they’re gone your control gives out and you cum with a cry.

“Shanks!♡” Your pulse around him and he pants at the feeling, barely managing to ride your orgasm before he finally bottoms out to coat your walls with his cum; keeping his body covering yours until he’s filled you up. Finally the throbbing ends and Shanks sinks to the ground with you on his lap.

“I thought you were going to be normal and slow down.” You state nervously, turning the vibrator off and tossing it to the side.

“I tried, but you were too sexy trying to keep quiet. Hard to keep control.” He gives you a small kiss. “They’ll just assume you were whining from a stomach ache. You look a mess enough to have been throwing up.” A grin forms on his face. “I look close enough when I get real bad hangovers.” His comparison makes you frown and lightly smack him on the shoulder. “Ouch, that's where you scratched.”

____________________

You both fix up the best you can, going with the excuse that you threw up to explain your messiness even when both your and his cum is pooling into the lingerie panties. When you two get back to the ship he cleans you up better, kisses here and there that may have gotten too heated for two people who just got done fucking in a building bathroom; but you do get clean. Since you’re supposedly sick you two stay in the ship and cuddle in bed. Maybe this isn’t as good as a nice date at an amusement park, but the two of you still ended up together; and that's really what cheers Shanks up.

There we go! Took more editing than i thought but i think i got everything to be male instead of fem. I really hope i didn't accidentally miss anything.. anyway i did it. this is my first bottom male reader too, kinda cray z. This doesn't count as my second update btw, thats gonna be a diff thing.

[pencil-n-pen]

PLUSH

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

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masterlist | kofi

alexandria! rick grimes x fem! reader

summary: after settling in alexandria, you’ve put on a few pounds. you’ve never really been all that skinny, but rick is quick to set you straight on just how he feels about your tummy.

cw: reader isn’t like the biggest fan of her weight (rick is in FULL and INTENSE favor of the tummy!) but reader is otherwise not described

a/n: hey i don’t rlly know what happened to me while writing this little blurb. i just feel like rick is one of those guys who goes crazy over a woman’s pouch n stomach fat ESPECIALLY in the apocalypse

brought to you by the weight i’ve gained while recovering from knee surgery

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۫ ꣑ৎ

Alexandria is nice. Comfortable. Safe.

You might not feel safe all the time, but well. Does anyone, with the constant, looming threat of the undead? Alexandria has walls- good ones, but still.

Though it seems your comfortability has gone directly to one place.

It’s the end of the day, and you’ve taken off your usual outerwear and now stand in front of the mirror in the bedroom, the tank top you usually wear under your clothes a little tighter than usual.

You turn to the side, eyes ever critical as you trace the new curves you’re sporting.

Back and forth, side to side, sucking it in, raising your arms above your head, squishing it with your hands. Pulling your tank top off your body a little bit. Now, you have always been on the squishier side, having retained some of it even when food was especially scarce, but now you look more like you did before the world went to hell.

Funny how that works. How there’s hordes of undead not too far away, how society has collapsed, and you’re still staring at yourself in the mirror, wondering if you should try to lose some weight.

Someone clears their throat behind you, and you drop the plush flesh in your hands.

Rick’s leaning against the bathroom doorframe, eyeing you up and down with a certain heat in his eyes.

You haven’t been together for very long. Not long enough for you to know how he’ll react to the sight of the roll of flesh hanging over the edge of your pajama bottoms.

You’re not entirely sure how you managed to capture his attention in the first place, let alone move in together once you reached Alexandria. You were just a loner the group had picked up not too far from the safe zone, desperate for protection and safety in numbers.

And well. Who can look at Rick and not want his arms around you in every conceivable way?

“What d’ya have there?” He asks, pushing off the doorframe and making his way over to you.

You avoid his gaze (it still makes you nervous) and turn back to the mirror.

“Nothing. I guess I’ve been eating better since getting here.”

“Mm,” He hums, deep and throaty. “I like it.”

You frown. “You don’t have to—“

He comes up behind you, chin hooking over your shoulder and hands coming around the squeeze and roll the fat between his hands.

“You don’t like it?”

You make a non-committal noise.. “I think most girls don’t, really. Well, maybe not. I can’t speak for all women. But,”

You shrug. “I’ve never really been skinny, so. I don’t know.”

Rick’s hands are warm and hot where they hold and squeeze your tummy.

“Do you not like it when I do this?” He murmurs, lips against your neck.

It’s a conflicting feeling. On one hand, Rick is ridiculously attractive, and his hands feel amazing on your body.

On the other hand, the squeezing and rolling accentuates and draws attention to the fat there.

“I don’t know,” You decide to answer honestly. He hasn’t responded negatively so far. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the weight I lost when I was alone. Kind of a fucked up thing to think, I know.”

You sigh. “I appreciate what my body does for me.”

Rick just hums, arms around your waist. “You look healthy. Makes me happy to know my woman,” He mouths at your neck, “Is provided for. I’m a man, sweetheart. The only thing I want to do with this here,”

He rolls the fat in his hands for emphasis. “Is bury my fuckin’ face in it.”

Your skin feels hot and cold at the same time, and you squirm in place at the attention.

He holds you in place. “You know what it means? Means my woman is taken care of. Means I’m doing my job. What kind of man would I be if you were all skin and bone? Couldn’t call myself a man.”

You huff, leaning back into his chest a little. “I thought flat stomachs were the beauty standard.”

“Sweetheart,” He groans, “I don’t fuckin’ care what the standard is. You think the Greeks were carving women with flat stomachs?”

“No, but—“

“No, nothing. You look sexy as hell. ‘Sides. It’s protecting an organ I happen to like very much.”

You smack his arm. “You’re terrible.”

He kisses your cheek. “No I’m not. Come on. It’s too late for you to be worrying about anything.”

He turns off the lights while you get comfortable, then quickly settles in bed with you, arms circling your waist and pulling you flush to his chest, hands sliding under your tank and immediately resuming their ministrations.

“Rick.” You say warningly.

“What?” He murmurs, voice already rumbly and slow. “M’ just getting comfortable.”

“You’re such a tease.”

“Is it a crime to love on my woman? All of her?”

“It is when we’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“Fine, fine,” He grumbles, burying his face in your neck, hands stilling but remaining where they are.

“Can’t believe you don’t like it. S’ so soft. So nice to hold. One of my favorite things.”

“Oh really?”

“Mmm,” He gives it one last squeeze. “Yeah.”

Well. In the face of dedication like that, who could deny the man?

You let out a long exhale, relaxing into his hold and allowing him the comfort he so clearly desires. Rick makes a happy noise in the back of his throat and rubs your stomach a few times before well and truly settling into sleep.

With his warm hands held fast around you, you follow soon after.

۫ ꣑ৎ

[shoukokus]

How would the door leaders (Housewardens) react to an extremely flirty reader (if the housewardens flirts back the reader would double down with even more flirt)?

I love this. Where my fellow don't know when they're flirting people at?

Riddle Rosehearts

You'll have to give him the most obvious flirtatious comment for him to realize that's what you're doing. But once he gets it, oh boy.

Turns ridiculously red, whether you're together or not

If you aren't, he says with a huge stutter that you need to watch what you say

If you are, he tries to be smoother with it

"Ah, yes, thank you..." He clears his throat. "You look lovely as well."

Please just don't do it in front of people, he'll clam up and be very uncomfortable

Leona Kingscholar

Bold little thing aren't you?

Don't you know what flirting with a prince means? Are you prepared to spend life by his side, saying things like that in public to him...

He'll flirt back whether you're together or not

It kind of becomes a competition of who can fluster the other one more, but I warn you he's a tough rival, he's got plenty to say about you

I'll give you a little hint though, get really genuine with it. Say how intelligent he is, how his country is lucky to have him, give him all the praise!

The two of you can go back and forth for hours, while everyone around you has died of embarrassment awhile ago

Azul Ashengrotto

Are you trying to kill him?

You know that cliche anime glasses crack? That's him the first time you flirt with him

He doesn't even know how to be suave in response (especially if he really likes you) he's just too flustered

Flirting with him is fun and all, but the thing that's really gonna make him melt is genuine praise. His intelligence, his business sense, his dedication.

I mean you can turn that into flirts.... just saying..

Won't flirt back unless you're in a relationship, and even then it's very awkward. He doesn't know how to do it, but an experienced flirt like yourself can teach him

Kalim Al-Asim

He honestly just thinks you're being friendly

You could straight up say the most romantic pick up line on the planet, and he'd just smile and say it back. Then walk along like nothing happened

If you're serious about him, you'll have to grab him by the shoulders and say that you've been flirting because you're romantically interested

If not, then yall will just have fun!

He can effortlessly make your heart pitter patter, you know he means everything he says

In a relationship or not, you can have a really fun back and forth with him

Vil Schoenheit

He hears basic flirting all the time, you're going to have to get creative

Perhaps compliment his skill, get personal with it! Say that no one else could play the roles he's getting

Once you get there, that's when he starts responding and genuinely enjoying the flirting you do

It's nice to be appreciated in such a genuine manner, and not just someone after his fame or looks.

Occasionally flirts back, but frankly he's not the best at it! You may think he's smooth and a natural flirt, but honestly he's never felt the need to respond back before. He likes learning what makes you blush though <3

Just make sure he's the only one you're flirting with now, okay?

Idia Shroud

Spontaneously combusts. Good job, you killed him

He's fun to tease, he has the best reactions to even the simplest of compliments

However he's not going to do anything in response until you get real with him. So unless you're in an established relationship, don't expect much back

MIGHT tell you not to do it in public, that stuff is too cringe to say out loud!!

But he also gets a sense of pride from it

Can't flirt back to save his life. Tried once, hated it, never did it again. He's fine with you being the flirty one

Malleus Draconia

Is so old school about it, to him flirting means courting

The second you flirt with him, he's giving you hand written notes about how lovely you are.

Honestly? He's better at this than you are and he doesn't even know it

That probably makes you want to up your game though, right? He just likes having all your attention and praise, it makes him a very happy dragon

You'd need to actually explain flirting/pick up lines to him. That you do it when you're interested in the person for a variety of reasons (romantic or otherwise), and want to see what it takes to fluster them.

Maybe gets a little down after that, thinking it was just for fun and not serious. Please tell him it was serious and then swear he's the only one you're interested in <3

Requests are open!

[luvbinnies]

i made a promise, to distance myself

A boy who kept his feelings locked away and someone who wore their heart on their sleeve. When he walked away, it was without warning, without reason. And they refused to wait for an explanation. Now few months later, forced to work together on a project neither can escape, old wounds resurface. Silence turns into stolen glances, resentments bleeds into something dangerously familiar, and the past refuses to stay buried.

Genre: fluff, angst, exs to lovers, el oh el.

warnings: swearing, isaac newton mentioned, could be sad ig (?), i can't think of anything else

a/n: im back from the dead, recently fell under a moving car and got dumped el oh el, some parts in here are inspo by like my actual life, i have a list of all the similarities if anyone is curiosu at the end of the story. basically wake up from a dream where me and my ex got back together and wrote this.

wc: 9.6k (longest fic ever el oh el)

Jumping off a flight of stairs was probably not the best idea, but it was the only thing you could think of at the moment.

Reluctantly moving down the stairs and following the loud clunk sounds of your stupid bright neon green water bottle. Books and papers of drawings and blueprints that won't fit into your messenger bag without getting damaged. Maybe you should’ve listened to when people said getting a regular backpack was much more convenient than the bag you had now, but it was much more fashionable. 

Landing at the bottom of the staircase, take a moment to breathe and prepare yourself for having to go back up five flights of stairs to get to class. Because even though the school is one of the prestigious in the country, they refuse to have any sort of elevators to ruin their “dark academic” aesthetic of the building. 

Eyes traveling on the old cobbled stoned flooring, trying to locate a neo-coded water bottle, your mother insisted on getting since she read somewhere green is this year's lucky colour. Probably found in some ridiculous article, really got to get her off social media. 

Bright neon green slipped through your peripheral vision, turning to face the still rolling bottle and walking towards it before it makes you late for your next class. It stops in front of a pair of solid black shoes, one that looks all too familiar. The figure stops at the feeling of the ratchet bottle that wants to ruin your day even more than it already has. 

A recognizable pale hand, with a silver ring on the index,  hesitantly drops down to pick up the bottle that led you down a path to the literal pits of hell for you. Eyes not dare looking up from the ground, taking your somewhat free hand and extending out your pinky to the now stranger you have a bitter taste in your mouth everytime you come near. Once the feeling of your pinky is weighted down by the feeling of the water bottle’s hook, you take off up the stairs with energy that you didn’t think you had anymore left of, as it’s your third time climbing these stairs in the past ten minutes. 

Not a care in the world if a stranger walks by and deem you as a rude bastard who can’t even say thank you, because you can;t even say a word to the “nice stranger” who handed you your water bottle. All you can do around him now is just run and avoid. That’s what you continue to do until you reach your class, probably looking a little weird as you were also cursing at your bottle and gravity, mainly isaac newton, he’s usually the bane of all your problems lately, besides the man you used to call yours. 

—

His friends would sometimes joke to him that the world is too fast for him at times, usually when he doesn’t get a joke right away or for him zoning out, especially as it has been worse in these past few months. 

But that happened so fast, he has no idea what to do, or how to react but just to stare at your figure rushing up the stairs. Sunghoon’s jaw tightens as you fade away up the many flights of stairs. Acting like he is some contagious virus, even afraid to touch him, much less look at him. 

He would remember when their friend group was still intact and when they would all hang out, how sometimes the gang would get too overwhelming, even from the other side of the room you would catch his eye and always give him a comforting smile. And the simple eye contact with one another, while the world moves along around them. 

But he had lost that with you and it’s all his fault. 

—

Taking a little break from the assignment in front of you to angrily tap on your phone so the ads on your music app stop, knowing you aren’t really actually doing anything to get rid of them unless you become one of the apps victims and pay for music. But your stubbornness and being broke, so aggressively hitting your phone is your next best solution. 

The little silence after the ad is finally done and the next song is about to start, you can hear a mechanical pencil roll off of a desk. A quiet clatter could barely be noticed in the slight hum of the library. You didn’t hear it at first, the angry high you had because of the ad made you lock out of concentrating from your work— until you noticed the hand reaching for it making you pause.

Long pale fingers. A silver ring on the index.

You know those hands, it's your second time seeing them in… you weren’t too sure the last time you saw those hands when they were wrapped around your water bottle. All you knew was that you were seeing those hands much sooner than you needed to. 

Those hands, you remember the weight of those hands in yours, the way they used to hold your face and caress your cheek, the way they tug at your sleeves on your sweater absentmindedly. 

And you recognize the pencil.

It’s yours.

Not exactly, but you did buy that pencil. 

Something in you starts feeling nauseous, or light-headed, you couldn’t really figure out in the moment because without thinking, you reach out and yank that pencil right out of his grip. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have done that, because now that gross boy opened his mouth, but you didn’t care. 

Sunghoon blinks. “Hey did you just—”

Whenever you were bored in class you would always do fun pencil tricks and even taught him how to do some with this said pencil in your hands. 

Spinning the pencil around, inspecting it with feigned interest, not caring about the boy next to you with his mouth open like a fish staring at you. “Huh. I forgot how nice this pencil was.”

Now his mouth is close as he clenches his jaw, his  stare sharpening. “You can’t be serious.”

Finally turning your head to look at him, trying to maintain the emotions on your face. Instead of saying something you might end up regretting, in the fear of sounding cringe, you just shrug. 

“Give it back.”

“Why?” Resting your chin on your hand. “It’s mine.”

He exhales sharply, the kind of exasperated breath he used to let out when you teased for taking things too seriously. Except now there’s a little bit of an edge to everything. 

“You gave it to me.”

You tilt your head “Did I?”

You weren’t sure if he could clench his jaw any harder, but somehow he does. “Yeah. You did.”

Your grip on the pencil tightens. You can’t say you remember everything that was said the night of the break up, but you remember the way you felt, the way he left without explanation— like he couldn’t bear to stay with you any second longer. As if he couldn’t stand to hold on to something that was already slipping away. 

He didn’t even let you have a say, you didn’t get the chance to do anything, not even fight for what was yours then. 

So now you hold on to that damn pencil. 

“Well,” you say, voice light, “technically, it was mine first.”

Sunghoon lets out a humorless laugh, one you don’t recognize in this fever dream daze of nostalgia. Leaning against the table, he’s close now, closer than you could've prepared for. You hate the way your heart stumbles over itself at the lack of distance, at the way he still smells the same— like something clean and sharp, a little cologne you had bought him about a year ago for his birthday. 

His voice drops an octave. “You’re seriously pulling this shit?”

Shrugging again, simply just pulling a stare you hope doesn’t reveal how fast your heart is beating stupidly like it used to. 

He watches you for a long second, his brown eyes scanning your face like he’s trying to figure out what type of game you were playing. But then, not arguing, instead of pushing back, he just exhales softly. 

“Fine,” he mutters, “Keep it.”

And then, right before he turns away— so quiet you almost think you had imagined it—

“It suits you better anyways.”

You blink.

Before you could say anything, maybe asking what the fuck he meant by what he said, he’s already walking off. Leaving you with a mechanical pencil in your hands and this time you watching him as he walks away, with a taste of words you don’t quite understand.

—

Two year ago

Rain pitter patters against the windows, a dull hum in the background in the near-empty classroom. It’s late— too late for anyone to be here— you didn’t care, you were too stubborn. Chewing on your nail, brows furrowed in concentration as you glare at your notebook, completely oblivious to the fact that Sunghoon hasn’t turned a page in the last ten minutes. 

He should be focusing. He should be running through formulas in his head, thinking about the test tomorrow, or at the very least be pretending to be studying. Instead, he’s watching you— watching the way you puff out your cheeks when you stop understanding what you were just doing, the way you spin the pencil in your hand absentmindedly, the way you whisper to yourself while doing each exercise when you think no one’s listening.

You’re always like this– loud without meaning to be, pulling attention without even trying. 

He should’ve known sooner. That you were dangerous in the kind of way that crept up on him, slipping past his defenses before he had the chance to stop it. 

“Sunghoon.”

Your voice snaps him back to reality, he straightens, forcing his face into something neutral. “What?”

Pushing your notebook towards him, sighing dramatically. “Did you do this one yet? I don’t know if I did it correctly.”

He glances at your notebook, eyes widening a little, as to the most he could see on the page was a bunch of scribbles and some incoherent formulas and calculation. Having a hard time reading it , before shifting his chair closer. You don’t think twice about it when your shoulders brush. You never do. 

But he does.

He always does. 

“Is this your answer, at the corner?” he asks, taking your pencil without thinking, to circle the little number at the bottom of the page. Your fingers graze for a second, and he wonders if you feel the static the way he does. Probably not. You’d pull away if you did.

He attempted to go over your work, commenting on what you have written in a voice that’s much steadier than he feels. You nod along, resting your chin on your hand, eye flickering between his face and page. 

“I hate Isaac Newton and that stupid apple.” you grumble.

Sunghoon huffs a quiet laugh shaking his head. “You just overthink everything.”

You groan. “I wish that apple killed that stupid white man.” 

He watches as you bury your head in your arms on the table, tapping your forehead lightly with the end of the pencil before setting it back down. “Just stop overthinking and wishing death upon an already dead man.”

Lifting your head, you blink at him, lips parting like you want to argue, but for a brief moment, something passes between the two of you— something neither of you have a name for yet.

And then you roll your eyes, reaching for your notebook. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever, idiot.”

Sunghoon watches as you turn your pages to start a new question, completely unaware of the way his fingers twitch against his knee, resisting the urge to brush a stray strand of hair from your face.

Yeah.

He’s in trouble. 

—

A few months ago

The night air is cold, but not as cold as the space between you.

Your arms are crossed. His hands are shoved into his pockets.

A street light flickers overhead. A car passes in the distance. 

Sunghoon exhales, steadying himself.

Then. before he can stop it— before he can think too hard about what he’s about to lose—

“I think we should break up.”

Silence.

The kind that swallows everything whole.

Your lips part, but no words come out. 

Your lips part, but no words come out.

The look in your eyes— confusion, disbelief, then something else, something that burns— 

“What-Why?”

He doesn’t answer. Or maybe he does, but it’s not the right thing.

It’s never the right thing.

The air is heavy, thick with things neither of you are saying.

Then, finally— your voice, quieter this time.

“Okay.”

A single step back. Then another.

And then—

Nothing. 

—

The classroom hums with chatter, students moving around and the teacher speaking about some project, but you were barely listening. Your attention is elsewhere— on your notebook, on the scratches of pen against paper, literally anything but him.

He was two rows ahead, resting his chin on his hand, half-focused on his laptop. Almost similar to you right now. Too similar. 

You don’t look at him. You don’t let yourself.

But then—

“For the project, you’ll be working in pairs.”

There is a ripple of movement through the room, students glancing around already choosing their partners. 

“I’ve assigned them to you.”

Your stomach twists. 

You sit a little straighter. Your fingers tighten around your pen. 

 The professor starts listing off names. One by one, students find their partner. You’re holding your breath, waiting for—

And then—

Your name.

And then, immediately after—

His. 

You freeze.

The room suddenly feels too small, the air too thick. 

Someone nudges your arm, murmuring something about how lucky you are since you get to work with the “hottest guy on campus”, but their voice is distant, muffled by the sound of blood rushing in your ears.

Slowly, hesitantly, you lift your gaze. 

Sunghoon had turned in his seat. 

For the first time in months, you’re looking at each other. 

And the worst part? He doesn’t even look surprised. 

—

Sunghoon doesn’t hear from you for the rest of the day. 

Not a text, not a call— nothing.

And the, at exactly 11:51 pm., an email lands in his inbox.

Subject: Project Task

From: yn@beliftuniversity.com

To: parksunghoon@beliftuniversity.com 

Attached is the project outline. I’ve divided the tasks. I’ll handle the structural analysis and concept sketches. You can do the mechanical components. Tell me when you are done. 

Sent from my phone

That’s it. No greeting. No unnecessary words. Not  even your name.

Sunghoon exhales through his nose, clicking open the file. You’ve already set up everything— titles, labels, even deadlines. You’ve practically built a wall of professionalism between you, as if you were never anything but classmates. 

And it pisses him off.

Fine. two can play this game. 

He types a reply, short and to the point.

Subject: Re: Project Tasks

Got it. 

He doesn’t hit send. 

His fingers hover over the keyboard. His jaw clenches.

Then, in a moment of stubborn impulse, he types—

You can’t avoid me forever.

And hits send before he can take it back.

—

“You know, he’s right.”

You shoot a glare over at Sunoo. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, kicking his feet up on the bench. “You can’t ignore him forever.”

“I can, actually.” you sip your matcha pointedly. “It’s called email.”

He snorts. “You sound like a middle-aged professor.”

“Good. Maybe he’ll leave me alone then.”

Sunoo raises an eyebrow. “He literally told you, ‘You can’t avoid me forever.’”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, and? I don’t care.”

The words are barely out of your mouth when Sunoo suddenly stiffens, eyes darting over your shoulder. 

“Uh—”

You don’t even have to ask. You just know.

There’s a familiar shift to the air, an awareness pressing down on your skin. 

And then, just to confirm it—

“Shit,” Sunoo mutters. “He’s down the hall.”

You don’t think. You just move.

Your hands shoot out, gripping his sleeve as you drag them down the corridor. 

“Are you serious?!” he hiss between stumbling steps.

“Shut up, shut up , shut up—”

“Please can we stop running, I don’t think he would be chasing us down for sport.”

You don’t care. You don’t turn around because you know if you do, you’ll see Sunghoon standing there, staring after you, that unreadable look on his face. 

And you are not giving him that satisfaction.

Not today. 

—

Staring at your laptop screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard, the flashing cursor blinking back at you in defiance. You’ve been avoiding this email for days— every time you think about it your stomach churns, and you mind races with excuses. 

You don’t want to deal with him. Not now. Not ever again.

The project, the meeting, the unavoidable tension. You had hoped, foolishly, that you could really just avoid Sunghoon completely��� keep everything strictly professional, send email, handle the assignment without having to face him in person. But that plan was crushed the moment the email landed in your inbox, his name in bold. 

“Let’s meet in person tomorrow to go over the project. I’ll bring the drafts.”

Of course, Sunghoon had to take the initiative. You had a suspicion he’d never let you hide behind your screen forever. He was stubborn, too, in a way that always seemed to get under your skin. 

You arrived at the library, dragging your feet, already feeling the weight of the situation settle in your chest. The project was an assignment, but the real challenge was having to sit across from him, pretending that nothing had happened, pretending that the last year— no, the last months— hadn’t been a whirlwind of frustration and heartache.

But here you were, faced with reality. You walked into the library, hoping to avoid eye contact, but you couldn’t escape the familiar sight of him sitting at a table with all his papers neatly organized, a slight form on his face as he scanned the documents. 

His eyes flicked up when he saw you enter, and for a second, your heart skipped a beat. But you force yourself to remain calm. He was just a classmate now, just another part of your academic routine. Nothing more. 

You set your things down at the table across from him, pulling your laptop out with the practiced motions of someone who had done this a thousand times before. You weren;t going to make this more personal than it had to be. No small talk. No catching up. Just the project. 

“Hey,” Sunghoon greeted, his voice neutral but carrying the weight of something unsaid. He glanced at the papers in front of you and then back to you. “Are you okay with everything so far? I made some revisions to the outline.”

You didn;t look at him. Instead, you glanced at the project papers and began sorting through them, avoiding his gaze entirely. “I’ll read them over later. Just… let’s focus on getting it done.”

You felt his eyes on you, the tension palpable in the air, but you refused to acknowledge it. You had your own part to do, your own work to focus on. Nothing else mattered right now. The project was the only thing that mattered. 

—

Sunghoon sighed, and you could hear the edge of frustration creeping into his voice. “Look, I know this isn;t easy for either of us, but we’re stuck with each other for this project. We might as well get it done right.”

“I’m not here to talk,” you snapped back, the words sharp and defensive. “Just focus on your part. I’ll handle mine.”

His expression hardened , but he didn’t push it any further. He opened up his own laptop and began typing, the sound of the keyboard tapping filling the silence between the both of you. 

For a while, it was quiet— just the sound of typing, rustling of papers. But no matter how hard you tried to focus, you couldn;’t shake the nagging feeling that he was watching you. His presence was like a shadow that followed your every move you made, and you hated how it made your chest tighten. You shouldn’t feel like this. You had no reason to. This wasn’t supposed to be personal. It was just a project. 

But then, suddenly, Sunghoon spoke again, his voice quieter, almost reluctant.

“You know,” he said, voice low but insistent, “we used to work well together. Back in high school. Why are you making this harder than it has to be?”

You froze, your fingers still on the keyboard. You could feel the old pain creep up your throat, but you swallowed it down, shoving it away. No. Don’t go there.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, your voice steady but with a hint of something you don’t want to put a name to. And then, with a sigh, he turned his attention back to his laptop, typing in silence for a long time. 

—

Two year ago

 It had been a late night at the library, the kind where the air felt thick with concentration and the promise of deadlines hanging over every student in the building. You were sitting at the same table as Sunghoon, both of you buried in textbooks, trying to get ahead before the weekend.

It was supposed to be just another study session, but something felt different. Maybe it was the way the soft overhead lights cast shadows over his features or how the silence between you two wasn’t awkward but comfortable. You couldn’t help it— his face was so focused, his lips slightly pursed in concentration, and for some reason, the sight of him studying like that made your heart skip. 

“Is there something on my face?” he asked, his voice teasing but gentle.

You blinked and quickly looked away, flustered. “No … it’s just, you look… nice when you study.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. He leaned forward slightly, his voice lower than usual. “Nice, huh? That’s a first.”

You wanted to curl up and die from embarrassment, but instead you found yourself smiling despite the heat in your cheeks. Something about being with him felt so easy, so natural.

And then, before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out. “You look… pretty. When you study.”

There was a long pause, and then Sunghoon chuckled, his smile widening. “Pretty, huh? Well, that’s new.”

You couldn’t help it. You laughed too, the awkwardness melting away in the warmth of his gaze. That moment— when you both realized that maybe there was something more there— was when it all started. 

—

The silence in the library stretches again. You go back to your laptop, trying to focus on the work in front of you. But the memory of that moment, of those words you’d said so long ago, hangs in the air like a ghost.

Sunghoon’s presence is undeniable now. Every time his shoulder brushes against yours as he reaches for his drink, it feels like a jolt of electricity. You grit your teeth, forcing yourself to keep working, to ignore the way his proximity makes your heart race. 

“You know, if we just worked together instead of pretending we’re strangers, this would be a lot easier,” Sunghoon says again, his voice a little more insistent now, but still carrying that gentle tone. 

You refuse to look up, clenching your jaw. “Just finish your part. I’ll finish mine.”

“I’ve always liked how stubborn you are,” he mutters, but there’s a soft fondness behind the words. “But you’re going to make this harder than it has to be, aren’t you?”

You bite your lip, fighting the urge to snap back. But the reality is that he’s right. You are making this harder. You’re making everything harder by refusing to acknowledge how much you still feel for him.

But you can’t admit that, not now, not when the walls between you two are so high, so insurmountable. 

—

It’s late—too late for anyone to be at the library anymore. The harsh overhead lights flicker in the empty room, casting long shadows on the tables where students usually sat, buried in their books. But not you. You’re still here, alone, a stack of textbooks and papers spread out before you. The hum of the fluorescent lights fills the air, broken only by the soft tapping of your fingers on the keyboard.

You’ve been here for hours, the deadline looming closer with every passing second. Your mind is tired, but you won’t leave until you finish. It’s like a race against time. A way to distract yourself from everything else.

But then, you feel it. A presence.

You look up, and there’s Sunghoon, standing by the entrance, his gaze scanning the room. You immediately look away, pretending you hadn’t seen him. Why is he here? You weren’t supposed to see him, not tonight.

He walks toward you slowly, his footsteps soft but deliberate. You keep your eyes down, focused on the papers in front of you, but you can feel him getting closer.

“You’re still here?” Sunghoon says, his voice low, like he’s not sure what to make of the situation.

You sigh, unwilling to make this a conversation. “I’m working. Is that a problem?”

“No,” he answers quickly, but there’s a softness to his tone now. Something gentler. “Just... thought you’d left by now.”

You don’t look up, but you hear him pull out the chair opposite you. He sits down, but doesn’t speak immediately. You don’t say anything either. It’s awkward. You try to focus on the work in front of you, trying to ignore the feeling of his presence, so close but still so far away.

You keep your head down, but the longer you stay in the silence, the more you feel the walls you’ve built start to crumble, piece by piece. He doesn’t push you. Doesn’t force a conversation. He just... stays.

You try not to think too much about it. It’s just Sunghoon. Just a classmate.

But then, hours later, you’re blinking, your head feeling heavy as you try to focus on the screen in front of you. You hadn’t realized how tired you were until your eyelids started to flutter. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the exhaustion catches up with you.

You don’t even realize you’ve nodded off until you’re suddenly jerked awake, your head jerking up from the desk. The library is quiet, almost too quiet, and the light from the desk lamp casts a soft glow around the room. That’s when you notice it.

A jacket—dark, heavy, and familiar—draped over your shoulders.

You blink, still groggy from sleep, and turn to see that Sunghoon is gone, his chair empty. You try to shake the fogginess from your mind, but there’s no denying it: He left his jacket with you.

You didn’t hear him come back. Didn’t feel him approaching. But somehow, he’d slipped it onto you while you were asleep, without a sound.

You sit there for a moment, the jacket still warm against your skin. His scent clings to it, and you find yourself unable to take it off. It feels wrong to just leave it behind, but you’re not sure why it feels so important to keep it on.

You look down at your own hands, your fingers grazing the sleeve, feeling the weight of the jacket, both literally and emotionally. You’re not sure if it’s the jacket that’s weighing on you or the memories that come with it. But it’s there. And so is he.

You stay there for a few more minutes, just sitting in the quiet, knowing that it would be impossible to get anything more done tonight. You pack up your things, but you don’t take off the jacket. Instead, you walk out of the library with it on, your heart a little heavier than when you came in.

—

It was dark outside, and the bus was filled with the soft chatter of your classmates. You and Sunghoon were sitting in the same seat, your shoulders brushing as you both leaned against the window, tired from the day’s activities.

You’d always been close, never quite aware of how it felt to have someone just be there with you. But that day, there was something different about it. It was like you both had settled into this quiet rhythm—comfortable, easy.

You leaned your head against the window, gazing out at the passing lights. The bus was warm, and your eyes were starting to grow heavy from the day’s exhaustion. Without realizing it, you drifted off, your head slipping onto Sunghoon’s shoulder.

He didn’t immediately pull away, didn’t complain. He just let you sleep, his body slightly tensing at the sudden closeness, but not enough to push you away.

And when you woke up, it wasn’t awkward. You just rubbed your eyes, looked up at him, and smiled.

“You’re comfy,” you murmured.

Sunghoon chuckled softly. “You really just fell asleep on me, huh?”

You laughed, feeling a warmth in your chest. “It’s not like I did it on purpose. I didn’t even realize.”

And even though it had only been a few seconds, you both lingered in that moment, your eyes meeting briefly before he gave you a smile that made your heart flutter.

You’d brushed it off as nothing—just a friendly gesture.

—

You’re still sitting in your room, the jacket still on your shoulders. It feels like a weight, not because it’s heavy, but because of the memories it brings. The warmth lingers on your skin, but so does the uncertainty. You can’t figure out why this is bothering you so much.

Your phone buzzes on the table, pulling you from your thoughts. A new email. You don’t need to look at it to know it’s from him. Sunghoon.

The message is simple: “Still need help with the project. Let me know if you want to meet up.”

You close your eyes and let out a slow breath. You want to ignore it. Pretend you didn’t see it. But you can’t. Because part of you wants him to be there. Part of you wants him to still be the one to help you, even if you don’t want to admit it.

You stand up, pacing around the room, the jacket slipping slightly off your shoulders as you move. You pull it tighter around you, almost subconsciously.

You know you’ll have to face him again. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe sooner. Hopefully later. But right now, with his jacket still draped over you, you’re not sure if you're ready.

But for some reason, you know you’re going to have to take it off.

—

You walk into the classroom, clutching the jacket in your hands. It’s been a couple of days since you woke up to find it draped over your shoulders, Sunghoon’s jacket—a silent gesture that spoke more than words ever could. He hadn’t said anything when you first found it. It had simply been there. At first, you thought it was an accident, but the longer you held onto it, the more it felt like something else. You hadn’t returned it immediately, unsure why you kept it. But now, with the fact the two of you share a class together, it felt like the right time.

You spot him sitting by the window, alone, lost in whatever thoughts occupy his mind. He doesn’t notice you as you approach, and the moment feels strangely... intimate, even though you're still far from the comfort you once shared.

You stand in front of him, holding out the jacket, but he doesn’t immediately take it. His eyes flicker up, and for a split second, something unreadable passes between you. He reaches for the jacket, but as his fingers brush yours, it’s more of a reflex than any real desire to touch.

Before you can pull away, a voice from behind you cuts through the moment.

"Are you two... together or just friends?"

You glance over to find a couple of classmates watching you both curiously. It’s a casual question, but the curiosity in their eyes is unmistakable. Sunghoon’s hand freezes mid-motion, his fingers still hovering over the jacket. He looks back at them briefly, his gaze faltering, not quite meeting yours.

For a moment, you’re not sure what to say. You notice how Sunghoon looks at the ground, avoiding any real response. His lips press together, his hand still unsure of whether to take the jacket back or not. He’s hesitant, as always.

You, on the other hand, feel the weight of the question, but you don’t shy away from it. Not this time. You stand tall, glancing over at your classmates and meeting their gaze.

“We’re just friends,” you say, your voice steady and clear. “Nothing more.”

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything. He just takes the jacket from your hand, his fingers brushing yours again, but this time it’s almost mechanical. You turn away quickly, the moment lingering behind you like an unspoken tension.

Your classmates exchange glances, their curiosity piqued, but they don’t push further. They turn their attention to the front of the room as class starts, but the question still lingers in the air.

You sit down at your desk, feeling the eyes of your classmates on you for a moment longer than usual. You force yourself to focus, pretending it doesn’t matter, but the thought of that brief interaction, the way Sunghoon avoided the question, settles heavily in your chest.

The class continues, but your mind drifts, back to that jacket and the weight of unspoken words. You can’t help but wonder what he might’ve said if you hadn’t answered for both of you.

No, that’s what he should’ve said because you guys were not dating, he broke up with you, and now the two of you were simply forced to work together. That’s it. 

—

The autumn air was crisp, carrying the scent of fallen leaves as the two of you walked side by side down the quiet street. The school festival had just ended, and the distant hum of laughter and music still echoed behind you. Groups of students were lingering back at the event, but somehow, the two of you ended up here, together, away from it all. 

It wasn’t planned. It never was with him. It was just how things always seemed to happen.

You hugged your arms around yourself because of the cold, cursing at yourself for not bringing a bigger jacket knowing the weather but wanting to look good for the event. He walked a little ahead, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jackets, his head tilted slightly towards you as if he was waiting for you to say something. 

You had always been the talker between the both of you. The one who made friends easily, the one who never hesitated. But right now, the words sat heavy on your tongue, unspoken. 

He let out a small sigh, looking up at the sky. “It’s late.”

“You should’ve left earlier then.”

He huffed, a tiny, almost-smile tugging at his lips before he looked back ahead. “You didn’t have to leave, you know.”

You shrugged. “Didn’t feel like staying.”

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. The festival had been fine, fun even. But then you’d seen him standing by himself, lingering near the edges of the crowd, not quite a part of it. And suddenly, the excitement of it all had dimmed. 

He kicked a small rock with the tip of his shoe, watching it tumble along the pavement. “Didn’t think you were the type to leave a party early.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

A breeze picked up, and instinctively, you crossed your arms tighter over yourself. Without a word, Sunghoon shrugged off his jacket and held it out to you.

You blinked at him. “What are you doing?”

“You’re cold.”

You scoffed. “I’m not cold.”

He didn’t say anything, just kept holding the jacket out with that blank expression of his— the one that meant he wasn;t going to argue. You hesitated for a second too long, and then, as if deciding for you, he draped it over your shoulders himself. 

You looked up at him, a retort on the tip of your tongue, but then you caught the way his fingers lingered just a second longer against your shoulder, the way he swallowed, like he wanted to say something but thought better of it. 

It was nothing.

It was everything.

Your heart did something stranger in your chest, a quiet stutter. But then he pulled away, shoving his hands back into his pockets, eyes flickering elsewhere like it was no big deal.

Like he didn’t just leave you standing there in the middle of the empty street, drowning in the scent of his cologne, trying not to overthink what had just happened. 

“Let’s go.” he said, his voice calm, steady. Like always. 

You didn’t move right away. You just watched him, this boy who always seemed out of reach.

Then you exhaled and started walking again, side by side, your steps falling in sync.

And if your hands brushed once— just once— neither of you said a word about it. 

—

After class, you head out of the room, your mind still lingering on the awkward exchange. As you walk down the hallway, you notice Sunghoon a few paces behind you, his expression neutral. You don’t turn around, but you can feel his presence. It;s the same as always, but somehow it’s different.

The hallway stretches ahead of you both, and you find yourself wondering if it’s the same for him, if he’s feeling the same weight of the unsaid words hanging in the air between you. But then you push the thought away. You can’t keep thinking about it. Not now. Not like this.

The day continues, but it doesn’t feel the same. Something has shifted again. Not a big thing, just the subtle change in the air whenever Sunghoon is around. But for now, you focus on the present. The project. The work. There’s no room for anything else. At least not yet. 

—

Sunghoon hated studying in public places. He hated the noise, the crowded spaces, the way it was impossible to concentrate. But for some reason, he was here.

With you.

The library was dimly lit, the only sounds coming from the occasional turning of pages and the soft clicking of keyboards. It was nearly empty at this hour, just the two of you tucked away in a corner, buried under textbooks and notes.

You sighed dramatically, stretching your arms over your head before slumping onto the desk. “I’m going to die here.”

Sunghoon didn’t look up from his notes. “You say that every time we study.”

“Yeah, and one day it’ll be true. And when that day comes, I hope you feel bad about it.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Dramatic.”

You turned your head to look at him, resting your cheek against your arm. The lamplight softened his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the curve of his nose, the way his lashes cast faint shadows on his skin. 

He was so pretty.

Unfairly so.

You frowned, furrowing your brows. “Do you know you’re pretty?”

That finally made him look up. He blinked at you, pen pausing mid-air. “What?”

“What?”

There was a flicker of something in his expression— surprise, amusement, something unreadable. He tilted his head slightly. “I don’t think about that kind of stuff.”

You scoff. “Oh shut up.”

Sunghoon shook his head, turning back to his notes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“Because it’s a weird question.”

“It’s not weird.” You sighed, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. “I just think it’s unfair that some people get to be smart and pretty.”

His lips twitched, like he was trying not to smile. “You’re calling me smart too?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

You hadn’t meant anything by it. It was just a passing thought, casual observation. But for some reason. Sunghoon kept stealing glances at you for the rest of the night, his fingers tapping idly against his notebook, like he was trying to figure something out. 

—

The library is quieter than usual tonight. The steady hum of air conditioning fills the space, and the dim, golden glow of the desk lamps casts long shadows on the wooden tables. It’s late— too late to still be working— but neither of you have left.

At first, you barely acknowledged each other. The project was the only thing keeping you here and even then, you refused to speak unless absolutely necessary. You typed your sections. He worked on his. Simple.

But at some point, between the furious clicking of keys and the scratching of his pen against paper, something shifted. 

The silence wasn’t as sharpe anymore. The air between you wasn’t quite so cold.

You were still stubborn, still keeping your distance, but Sunghoon had started to slip through the cracks. 

It was in the way he quietly slid your match closer when he noticed you reaching for it absentmindedly. In the way his eyes lingered a second longer than necessary whenever you furrowed your brows at the screen, lost in thought. In the way he wordlessly handed you a new pen when yours ran out of ink, his fingers brushing yours just for a second.

Little things.

Things you didn’t want to acknowledge.

Things that made it harder to pretend that you hadn’t missed this— missed him.

You force yourself to focus on the words in front of you, but your mind is elsewhere. On him. On the past. 

—

It had been a long night.

You weren’t supposed to stay out this late, but somehow, time slipped away. It was just the two of you, walking home after an evening study session, the sky stretched out in a blanket of deep navy blue. The air was crisp, autumn settling in with a quiet chill, and your footsteps echoed against the empty sidewalk.

“I can’t feel my fingers,” you muttered, shoving your hands into your hoodie pockets.

Sunghoon glanced at you, amused. “Then why didn’t you bring gloves?”

“Because I didn’t know it’d be this cold.”

“You say that every year.”

You huffed, nudging him with your shoulder. “And every year, I am caught off guard.”

He rolled his eyes but reached for your sleeve, tugging your arm towards him. Before you could react, he took one of your hands in his, tucking it into the pocket of his jacket along with his own.

The warmth of his palm against yours sent a shiver up your spine— not from the cold, but from something else. 

Something you hadn’t quite named yet.

Neither of you said anything about it. You just kept walkin, the streelights casting soft golden halos around you.

You reached your doorstep too soon. 

Sunghoon stood there, shifting on his feet, his fingers still loosely curled around yours.

You should’ve pulled away. You should’ve said goodnight. But instead, you just stood there staring at him.

The light from the porch illuminated the sharp angles of his face, the way his dark eyes softened when they met yours. His gaze flickered down— just for a second— before he quickly looked away.

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you were. “Are you gonna keep standing there, or—”

“Shut up,” he muttered.

And then—-

He kissed you. 

It was hesitant, barely a whisper of contact. But it sent your heart into a frenzy, your breath hitching, fingers tightening around him without thinking. 

When he pulled away, his ears were red, and he wouldn’t meet your eyes. “I— I wasn’t planning to do that.”

You blinked at him, mind still catching up. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” you repeated, this time smiling.

Sunghoon exhaled, sometimes easing his shoulders.

“You;re still holding my hand.” you pointed out. 

He let go immediately, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Shut up.”

But you could see the way the corners of his lips twitched upwards. 

—

You stare at the screen in front of you, but the words are a blur. The memory lingers, making your chest feel tight.

Sunghoon shifts besides you stretching out his arms. His sleeves push up slightly, revealing the faint outline of veins along his forearms. You look away quickly, annoyed with yourself. 

This is ridiculous.

You don’t care. You don’t.

“Take a break,” he says, voice low.

You exhale, rubbing at your temples. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

You shoot him a glare, but he’s already looking back at his screen, unaffected. Typical. 

Silence settles between you again, but it’s different now. He’s too close, the air between you too charged. 

And then—

“Do you still hate me?”

Your breath catches. The question is quiet, but it feels deafening.

You turn to him, meeting his gaze for the first time in what feels like hours. His eyes are steady, but there’s something else there— something raw, something careful. 

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

He swallows. “ you won’t even look at me.”

You force yourself to scoff, to roll your eyes. “I look at you all the time.”

“Not like before.”

That makes you freeze.

Because he’s right. 

Before— before everything— you had looked at him like he held the universe in his hands. And maybe, in some ways, he had.

But that was then.

And now—

Now you don’t know what to do with this version of him, this version of you.

The air is thick with something you don’t want to name. 

And before you can think better of it, before you can stop yourself—

You kiss him. 

It's reckless, desperate, a collision of past and present, of things left unsaid and things you don’t want to admit.

His lips part slightly in surprise, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans in, his fingers grazing your jaw, like he’s afraid to break the moment.

And maybe you are too. 

But then—

Reality crashed back in.

Your eyes widen, and you pull away abruptly, breathless, heart hammering.

Sunghoon blinks, still processing, “Wait—”

But you’re already pushing away from the table, standing up too quickly, your chair scraping against the floor.

“I have to go,” you say, voice unsteady.

And before he can stop you, before he can say anything else—

You turn and walk away.

Leaving him sitting there, watching you go.

Again. 

—

Avoidance has always been your best defense.

You mastered it after the breakup, convincing yourself that if you could just stay out of Sunghoon’s orbit, then none of it— none of the pain, none of the unanswered questions, none of him— could touch you.

But ever since that kiss, it’s been impossible to keep up the act.

You stop sitting in your usual spots in the library. You change your walking routes between classes. You leave early to avoid any chance of running into him. Your emails about the project become even shorter, even more detached.

And still— it doesn’t feel like enough

Because the problem isn’t just him.

It’s you.

It’s the way your mind keeps replaying that night in the library, the way your lips still burn with the memory of his, the way your chest aches everytime you think about how you didn’t pull away immediately.

You shouldn’t have let it happen.

You shouldn’t have wanted it to.

But worst of all— you shouldn’t still want it now.

You tell yourself this over and over again. But nine of it matters when you turn the corner one evening, only to find yourself face-to-face with the one person you’ve been trying so hard to avoid. 

Sunghoon.

Waiting for you.

Like he knew.

“You’re avoiding me again,” he says, his voice eerily calm.

You grip your bag tighter and look away. “I’m busy.”

“Liar.”

The word lands heavier than it should.

You take a step back, but he matches it, blocking your way. His eyes search yours, and you can feel how tired he is— tired of the silence, of the pretending, of whatever this is. 

“Do you hate me that much?” His voice is quiet, but there’s an edge to it, something sharp and desperate. 

You exhale hardly. “Sunghoon—”

“Just answer me,” he pressed, jaw clenched. “Do you hate me?”

The words catch in your throat. 

You should say yes. You should give him the finality he seems to be looking for. 

But you can’t. 

And maybe he sees it— maybe he sees the way you falter, the way your fingers tighten around the strap of your bag— because his expression shifts.

And then—

The door beside you suddenly swings open. A group of students spills out, laughing and chatting, shoving past both of you. 

You barely register it before someone crashes into you from behind, sending you stumbling backwards—

Right into the supply closet.

And of course— because the universe must hate you— the force of it slams Sunghoon into the tiny space as well. 

And before either of you can react— click.

The door locks

Silence.

Then—

“You have got to be kidding me,” you hiss. 

Sunghoon tries the handle, but it doesn’t budge. He exhales sharply, resting his forehead against the door for a second before turning back to you. 

“Great.”

You let out a bitter laugh, crossing your arms. “What, you think I planned this?”

“No, but it’s convenient, isn’t it?” He glares at you, frustration bleeding into every word. “You’re always running away, and now you can’t.”

Your pulse spikes. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he mutters. “You left the night. You’ve been avoiding me ever since. You won’t even talk to me—”

“Because there’s nothing to say!” you snap.

“Bullshit!” His voice rises, his patience unraveling. “Don’t act like you don’t care. You kissed me, and then you ran away like it meant nothing.”

You freeze.

Because he’s right.

It wasn’t nothing.

But admitting that? Giving him that satisfaction? You can’t.

So you do what you do best. 

You push back

“You don’t get to act like you’re the victim here, Sunghoon,” you say, voice colder now. “Not when you broke up with me.”

Something flickers across his face.

“And not just that,” you continue, the weight of everything you’ve bottled up finally breaking through. “You left me without any warning. You didn’t talk to me about what was wrong. You didn’t even try. You just decided one day that it was over and that was it.”

—

It had been an ordinary afternoon. You remember it oo well— how he wouldn’t look at you, how his hands trembled slightly as he shoved them into his pockets.

And then—

“I think we should break up.”

The words hit you like a slap.

You laughed at first, thinking it was some sort of joke. But then you saw the way he avoided your gaze. The way his fingers curled into fists.

“Why?” Your voice had cracked. “What happened? Did I do something?”

He had only shaken his head. “It’s just…. I don’t think this is going to work.”

“What—”

“I am not sure I am what you really need.”

It was the last thing you expected to hear.

But it was the only explanation he ever gave you.

That's what started it, why you just started running away from him. 

—

“You thought it wouldn’t work?” you glare at him now, eye burning. “What the hell does that even mean?”

Sunghoon pressed his lips together, like he regretted saying it. But it’s too late.

“You didn’t even give us a chance,” you continue, voice rising. “You just decided that it wasn’t going to work out for the both of us.” 

“I wasn’t sure if I was what you really needed.”

Your breath catches. “Sunghoon—”

“You’re always surrounded by people. You make friends so easily. I wasn’t like that, I am not like that.” His voice is quiet now. “I feel like I was always holding you back.”

You shake your head, feeling something sharp and painful twist in your chest. “That’s what you thought?” You let out another bitter laugh. “You know, I thought that’s what brought us together. That we were so different. That worked because of that.”

Sunghoon looks at you then, something unreadable in his expression. 

“There were two people in our relationship, you and me. You made that decision that we don’t work well, for the both of us.” you say, voice shaking. “And now you think it’s going to work now just because you want it to?”

He doesn’t answer. 

And you hate how much that silence still hurts.

You exhale shakily, turning away. “I don’t trust you., Sunghoon.”

His jaw clenches. “I know.”

“And I don’t trust myself to let this happen again. Because if you could leave that easily once, what makes you think I believe you won’t do it again?”

This time, he doesn’t try to deny it. 

Because he knows.

Because he did leave. 

And you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to forgive him for that. You hated yourself for never being able to hate him at all. 

The only sound in the tiny space is the faint buzz of the overhead light—

And the deafening weight of everything left unsaid. 

The supply closet is cold, but the tension in the air is suffocating. When the door finally swings open, neither of you move right away. Sunghoon steps back first, his jaw clenched, like he’s holding back something he’ll never say. You follow a second later, not looking at him as you walk away.

After that, things are different.

You don’t avoid him anymore. Not really. You still exchange emails about the project, still sit across from each other in the library, still in the same space without outright hostility. But the sharpness between you dulls— replaced by something softer, something sadder. 

One night, long after the library should’ve closed, you look up from your notes to see Sunghoon staring at you. He doesn’t look away this time. Neither do you. For a moment, the world stills. 

Then you blink, and the moment is gone.

—

The project ends.

So does your reason to stay in each other’s orbits.

You expect things to go back to normal, whether normal is supposed to be. You expect distance to creep back in, the silence to settle. 

But somehow, Sunghoon lingers. 

He doesn’t force conversation, doesn’t push. But you catch him in the corners of your vision— watching, waiting, hesitation. As if he’s waiting for you to decide what happens next.

—

Then one evening, you run into him.

It’s late. The air is cold, thick with the scent of winter. Sunghoon is standing outside the campus gates, hands shoved into his pockets, the street lights casting long shadows around him. He notices you before you can turn away.

“Hey,” he says, voice quiet.

You hesitate. Then, “Hey.”

There’s so much unsaid between you, so much left unfinished. 

A part of you wonders— is this it? The last conversation before you both fade from each other’s lives completely?

Sunghoon opens his mouth, like he wants to say something more, but you shake your head, stopping him. 

“It’s okay.” you say. “You don’t have to.”

His throat bobs as he swallows. He nods.

The streetlamps flicker above you. A car passes, its headlights flashing between you like a border, a final dividing line. 

You should say something else. You should tell him you’ll see him around, that you’ll stay in touch, that you’ll find your way back to him someday.

But you don’t.

Instead you step back, offering a small, almost imperceptible smile.

“Take care, okay?”

For a second, you think he won’t respond. But then, finally— softly— he nods.

“You too.”

You turn around first. You don’t look back.

Sunghoon watches you walk away, his hands still in his pockets, his lips parts like he wants to stop you— but he never does.

The night swallows the both of you whole.

And just like that, it’s over. 

—

The city hums in silence in the distance, but here, on the rooftop, it’s quiet/ the two of you sit side by side, legs dangling over the edge, the skyline stretching endlessly before you. The night is warm, the stars barely visible through the glow of streetlights. 

“You’re gonna fall,” Sunghoon murmurs, eyeing the way you lean forwards slightly, hands bracing against the ledge. 

You grin, tilting your head towards him. “You’d catch me.”

He doesn’t answer, but the corner of his mouth twitches, like he wants to smile but won’t let himself.

A soft breeze ruffles his hair. You reach out before you can stop yourself, fingers brushing through the strand, smoothing them down. Sunghoon stills at the touch, but he doesn’t pull away. 

“You do that a lot,” he says after a moment.

“What?” 

“Touch my hair.”

You blink, your hand dropping back to your lap. “Does it bother you?”

He exhales, looking away, down at the glittering streets below. “No.”

That’s all he says. But in the way his fingers clench slightly against his knee, in the way his shoulders stay tense even as the night air cools his skin— you realize something.

Sunghoon likes it.

He likes being close to you.

The thought makes your chest feel warm, something soft and fluttering settling behind your ribs. You don’t say anything about it, don’t tease or push. Instead, you lean back on your palms staring up at the sky. 

“Feels like we could stay here forever,” you murmur.

Sunghoon glances at you, his expression unreadable.

Then, so quietly you almost don’t hear it—

“Yeah.” 

-

author's note: basically everything in here thats inpso from irl with my actaully ex. the water bottle incident but it was in a classroom. us actually having fucking class with each other the next semester. me running away constantly every time i see him now. me buying him a pencil as a present and him still using it (i really want to steal it back). him asking me if i hate him cuz i keep running away and even dragged a friend as i run away from him. him saying "i dont think it's going to work out" and thinking becuase im very outgoing and him being a big introvert was something that would lead to us breaking up, haha but it was just him and him not communicating with me about his feelings. el oh el.