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[docrobinavitch]

tracing back lucky stars

dr. robby x f!attending!reader masterlist content: 18+ mdni, sexually explicit content, infidelity, swearing, angst, usual medical canon events (not much tho), mention of alcoholic parent, other mentions of death, grief, age gap (less than ten year gap) words: 15.4K synopsis: this fic spans over a decade and follows our reader from first meeting robby in a chance interaction in florida as a resident all the way to 2024. all events take place prior to season one. this is inspired by when harry met sally, as requested from one of my beloved anons. lots of will they won't they, robby being oblivious to his own feelings for like ten goddamn years, i guess slow burn ish??? a/n: hi my friends, can't explain just how much fun i had writing this so huuuuuge thank you to the anon that requested it!! i really hope you love it. they will live in my brain space for quite a while i think. title is taken from song lucky stars by haim. as always thank u for being here!! <3 syd

2013 

As you stood at that rental car counter, you decided you hated the south. You hated the way southerners pretended to be nice, but really probably hated your guts. The way they smiled at you and crooned with their syrupy sweet voices that bless your heart, they thought you were a little soft in the head. Everyone always loved to say northerners were assholes, but to you they were just honest. You had infinitely more respect for the guy from Philly who flipped you off in traffic and screamed out his window that you drove like a ninety seven year old lady with glaucoma than the man in front of you who was giving his best Aw Shucks expression as he told you he would not rent his last car to you.

“Ma’am, as I’ve already explained to you, I cannot rent you that car, it’s a manual.”

“And as I’ve already explained to you, Martin, I know how to drive a stick.”

“If that’s true,” He said slowly, “Then why did you select ‘automatic’ for preferred transmission type on the rental form?”

You sighed and let your hands rise and fall loudly with a smack onto the counter, “Because the year is two thousand and thirteen and I assumed that there would be an automatic car available.”

You were running very low on patience after the morning you’d had. After spending the weekend at an emergency medicine conference, you had gotten up at four in the morning to make an early flight back to Pittsburgh. But lovely, beautiful Panama City, Florida had fucked you over from the moment you woke up this morning. 

The hot water in your hotel room had been out and you’d been forced to take an icy shower. You spilt orange juice all over the outfit you planned to wear to the airport and so were forced to instead wear denim shorts that rode just an inch too high. The iced coffee you had made yourself behind schedule to buy before getting to the airport was knocked from your hand by an inattentive cyclist. And you had broken the heel on one of your cowboy boots on your way into the airport. So you hobbled up to bag check only to find out that your flight was cancelled and could not be rescheduled until tomorrow.

You couldn’t wait until tomorrow. You were an R3 and you had a double shift tomorrow and you needed this flight to get back to Pittsburgh at a reasonable hour so you could get whatever sleep possible before reporting for shift. So you really, really needed this fucking car if you had any hope at all of both getting some sleep and making your shift.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m just not comfortable renting you the vehicle. Now, I really need to take care of the next customer–”

“Oh, Jesus, fuck, I’m trying to give you money for a service!” You pushed your credit card and license across the counter, “Please just rent me the car so I can go home!”

“Excuse me,” The voice behind you was rough and warm, and oddly familiar. It took you less than thirty seconds to place him. 

You had listened to him speak at the conference for an hour about how to deliver bad news to patients with the right amount of empathy. You remembered specifically how soothing you had found his voice and found it unsurprising that he would seem so good at delivering bad news. He could probably tell you he had stolen your identity and all money from your bank account and you would thank him.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I overheard you’re also heading to Pittsburgh?” He said to you and then turned to your newly minted nemesis, Martin, “I can drive stick, I could drive us both.”

Well, smooth voice or not, he could get fucked if he thought he was going to steal your rental.

“Excuse me,” You said, turning to the doctor who was way taller in person than you remembered him being on stage, “But you’re not taking my rental.”

“Ma’am, as I’ve said, it’s not your rental.”

“Martin,” You said, your voice high and strained as you whipped your head back towards him, “Could you mind your own goddamn business, please?”

“I— Sorry—“ Doctor Soothing Voice interjected again, “I just, I heard you were going to Pittsburgh and it’s the last rental—“

“So you thought you’d steal it from me?”

He laughed and scratched the back of his head, “No, I thought we could split it.”

Ordinarily, you may have been more polite. You had really enjoyed his talk. But you were very angry and your ankle was throbbing from when you had broken your heel. You wanted a peaceful drive by yourself.

“I don’t share cars with strange men, that’s how you end up on Dateline.”

He nodded, “Yeah, fair enough. What if we grab a coffee first?” He turned to Martin and slid a fifty dollar bill across the counter, “You’ll hold the car for us?”

You watched as Martin pocketed the fifty, nodding politely at Doctor Soothing Voice and you glared at him, upper lip beginning to turn up in disgust. You could already be on the road by now if it wasn’t for this sexist pig who thought women couldn’t drive stick.

“If you keep staring at him like that,” Doctor Soothing Voice whispered from over your shoulder, “You might actually end up on Dateline when they find his body.”

Accepting defeat, you sighed. Grabbing your bags, you began walking away from the counter.

“Have a beautiful day, ma’am.” Martin said as you walked by. 

You gave a short laugh and started to turn back around, “Oh, you son of a—“

“Nope.” Doctor Soothing Voice gently took your shoulders and turned you back in the direction of the door, “Just keep walking.”

Once outside in the oppressive humidity, you shook his hands off you, “You know, I could have handled that myself.”

He nodded, smiling, “I have no doubts on that front.” He gestured down to your heel-less boot, “What happened to your boot, you get in a brawl with a condescending horse?”

You snorted, “A doctor and funny. Though, I guess unsurprising since you work in an ER. If anyone’s gonna be funny it’s emergency medicine doctors. How else do we cope with the horrors?” He frowned at you in silent question, “Oh. Sorry. I should have said, I was at the conference, I saw your talk. Though your name is slipping my mind at the moment.”

He raised his eyebrows and you saw the way his eyes traveled down your legs and back up again, “You were… Here for the conference?”

“What, so, because I wore cowboy boots and booty shorts to the airport you think they’re gonna take my medical license away?”

He laughed, “You’re right, I apologize. Of course you can still practice medicine in booty shorts.” He held out a hand for you to shake, “I’m Michael. Robinavitch. You could also just call me Robby, if you want, that’s what I go by in the ER.”

You shook his hand and gave him your name, “I’m an R3, I work at UPMC Presbyterian.”

“Huh, what are the odds?” He ran a hand through his hair, “So you knew who I was and still refuse to get in a car with me?”

You started rolling your suitcase towards the Dunkin’ across the street, hobbling as you went, “Just because you’re a good doctor doesn’t mean you’re not also a deviant. People are layered and nuanced. And sick.”

His mouth was twitching towards a smirk again as he followed after you. Something about you was very intriguing to him. “Nuanced like how you’re an R3 wearing booty shorts and cowboy boots to the airport?”

“Yes, exactly.” You looked both ways at the crosswalk in front of the Dunkin’ before stepping into traffic, “Besides, I need an iced coffee if I’m about to endure fifteen plus hours in a car with a stranger.”

Robby continues to watch you from behind, eternally amused by your uneven gate, “Don’t you have other shoes?”

“Yes, well, I’ve hardly had the time to dig into my suitcase to find them now, have I?” You turned and walked backwards so you could look at him, “Do you criticize all your residents like this?”

He frowned, “That wasn’t a critique, you just look uncomfortable. Do you get this defensive with all your attendings?”

You turned away from him and he watched your shoulders heave with a sigh, “No. Believe it or not, I’m not normally like this. Must be something about you that gets under my skin.”

“Well,” He smirked and held the Dunkin’ door open for you, “You have about fifteen hours to figure out what it is.”

***

“When was the last time you drove stick?” Robby was holding the keys up just out of your reach. You knew he was trying to see if you would jump for them, but you would not be humiliated. You crossed your arms and glared at him instead.

In the last half hour you had changed your shoes and drank half your iced coffee while Robby filled out the rest of the paperwork for the car.

You shrugged, “I don’t know, more than ten years ago?”

He scoffed, “Okay, you’re definitely not driving then.”

“What, like you drive a stick super often?”

“Yes, actually, the car I own at home is a manual.”

You laughed, “Oh, okay. You’re one of those guys?”

He blinked at you, still smirking, “What does that mean? One of those guys?”

You walked around to the passenger side door, opening it, and standing on the step so you could look over the roof at him, “You know, one of those guys who only drives a manual and thinks they’re better than you for it. And like, probably owns a fucking motorcycle or something that he works on in his garage with his own two hands and talks about like it’s his child.”

You watched with glee as his face reddened, “Oh my God, you do have a motorcycle, don’t you? And a leather jacket?”

“Get in the car,” He said, still blushing as he opened the driver’s side door.

Very pleased with yourself, you ducked into the car.

***

“How’d you learn to drive stick?” He asked once they were on the road.

You were eating a donut with your feet propped up on the dash, the window open and blowing in your hair, “My dad taught me.”

He nodded, “Are the two of you close?”

“No,” You said, mouth full of donut, and then swallowed, “He was an alcoholic.”

“Oh,” Robby said, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Oh, he’s not dead, he’s just dead to me.” You turned to him and smirked as he was blushing again, “It’s okay, I haven’t spoken to him in almost ten years. I’ve moved on.”

He nodded and cleared his throat, “Sounds like that must’ve been… difficult.”

Your smile widened at his attempt to comfort you. Commiserate, even, “We are strangers in a car for fifteen hours together. We don’t have to do all this.”

He shrugged and turned to look at you briefly while stopped at a red light, “Isn’t this sorta the whole point of being alive though? Getting to know strangers?”

He had very intense, very warm, brown eyes. The kind of eyes that seemed to look right through you on first glance, that made you itch to break his stare. For just a moment, your smile slipped, and you tore your gaze from his to look out the windshield, “The light’s green.”

After a few moments of silence, you cleared your throat, “Seems like now’s a good time to mention that I am engaged, by the way. So if you were thinking about falling in love with me in the next fifteen hours, don’t.”

You heard him chuckle next to you, “Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on it. You’re not my type.”

You choked on your iced coffee and turned to look at him, “Excuse me?”

“What?” He laughed, “Are you shocked that the booty shorts didn’t work on me or something?”

You felt your face flush and you turned away from him, “No, I just… men don’t have a type.”

He scoffed, “What are you talking about?”

“Men will fuck any woman who shows even a little bit of interest in them. It’s why they’re incapable of being just friends with women.”

He raised his eyebrows, “You don’t think men and women can be just friends?”

“I don’t think straight men and straight women can be just friends because the man will always be secretly thinking about fucking her.” Robby was shaking his head, “What, you disagree?”

He laughed, “Yeah, of course. I promise I am not thinking about fucking you even a little bit.”

You smirked, “Okay. Well, I guess we can be friends then. At least until you prove me right.”

“Won’t happen.” 

You grinned, “Friends forever, then.”

He laughed, “Yeah, sure. Friends forever.”

***

The sun was beginning to set when Robby pulled back on the highway after stopping for Wendy’s, french fry hanging from his mouth.

“I could drive, you know, for a little while.”

“S’okay,” Robby said, food in his mouth, “I like the driving. Prefer it, actually.”

You nodded, “Yeah, that tracks with the whole thing you got going on.”

He laughed and gave you a quick glance, “You are such a know-it-all, you know? Anyone ever told you that? What thing do I have going on?”

You tossed a chicken nugget in your mouth before answering, “I’m not a know-it-all, I'm just really good at reading people.” You swallowed, “You have control issues.”

He ran a hand over his face, slightly shaking his head, “And how did you arrive at this conclusion?”

You shrugged, “It’s just sorta written all over you. The way you stepped in at the rental counter, the way you insist on driving, even in your talk at the conference you told a story when you were a resident where you ended up stealing a patient from another, more senior resident because you thought you knew best.”

He scoffed, “Yes, but I was right.”

“That time. I’m sure you’ve done that before and been wrong.” He’s quiet and when you look over at him, his jaw is clenched. Oh. You’ve pissed him off. “I didn’t mean to upset you, it’s not necessarily a bad thing. We all have quirks—“

“Like you being an insufferable know-it-all?” He said sharply.

You went quiet. You weren’t offended, exactly, moreso caught off guard that you had triggered him so easily when it hadn’t been your intention. 

“Sorry,” He said after a moment, sighing, “That was unnecessary.”

You nodded, “Let’s take a break from talking for a while.” You leaned forward to start fiddling with the radio before sitting back and humming along.

Robby drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, but for the most part, the two of you sat in companionable silence for roughly a half hour.

Until Robby cleared his throat, “I’m sorry for snapping at you, I know I have control issues. Guess it was frustrating hearing it from someone who doesn’t even really know me.”

You shrugged, “It’s okay. For what it’s worth I have been told I’m an insufferable know-it-all.”

He smirked, “And does your fiancé love that about you?”

You snorted, “No. There’s nothing a man hates more than a woman who thinks she knows more than him.”

The comment struck him as a little too honest. And he thought, perhaps, there was a note of hurt in your voice.

“How long have you been together?” He asked mildly.

You sighed and he saw you examine the ring on your finger out of the corner of his eye, “We dated for three years and got engaged about six months ago.”

He nodded, “You have a date in mind for the wedding?”

You became uncharacteristically quiet and he worried he had pushed too hard, but then, “No, um, we still can’t agree on a venue. And then we just decided maybe it would make more sense to wait until I finished my residency.”

“Oh,” He said, “Well, yeah, that seems reasonable.”

You cleared your throat, “What about you, Robby, you have anyone at home?”

It was not lost on him that you had redirected the conversation away from yourself, but that was fine. It wasn’t his business anyway.

“No,” He said, “No, it’s just been me for a while now.”

You nodded, “How’s that going for ya?”

He smirked, “No one to make a victim of with my control issues, so it’s alright.”

You smiled and then yawned, “Could you talk for a while?”

He huffed a laugh through his nose, “About what?”

“Anything. Medical procedures. Hell, give me your talk again.” You yawned a second time, “Anyone ever told you you have a very calming voice?”

“Oh, so my talk put you to sleep?”

“No,” You settled back into the car seat, pulling the lever to recline it slightly and resting your head against the door, “Your talk was very good, actually. You just have a nice voice. It’s how I recognized you earlier. But now, yes, I would like you to put me to sleep if you don’t mind. I have a double tomorrow.”

Robby smirked and looked at you out of the corner of his eye. Your eyes were already closed, head leaned against the window, arms crossed across your chest.

“Alright,” He said eventually, “If you insist.”

***

It took only about twenty minutes of him talking, redoing the talk he had done the day before, before he noticed you had drifted off. When he could safely get a look at you, he saw your mouth slightly agape and you were snoring softly. It shocked him how endearing he found it, how oddly comforting it was to drive with someone dozing off in the passenger seat.

You had entered your address into the GPS a couple of hours ago and with the street lights illuminating the inside of the car, he pulled up outside your apartment building.

He hated to wake you, you really did look so peaceful, the street lights giving your face an artificial glow. 

He stared at you a beat too long before he reached a hand to your knee and gave it a light squeeze, “Hey, you’re home.”

You stirred, what sounded almost like a mewl crawled out your throat as you came to and Robby fought a smile. “Home?” You asked sleepily.

“Yes,” He leaned away from you, allowing you to wake fully, “You fell asleep.”

You blinked the sleep from your eyes and looked around, “Well,” You dragged your arm at the corner of your mouth, wiping away the drool that had collected there, “I think it’s safe to say you’re no deviant, Michael Robinavitch. Thank you for getting me home safely.”

He smirked and got out of the car to help you with your suitcase, “Anytime.”

Having all your things, you looked from your apartment building back to Robby, “So, we’re still friends?” You asked, smirking, calling everything back to your earlier conversation.

A slow smile made its way across his face. The answer was yes, but he was beginning to wonder if he had more than fifteen hours with you if the answer would eventually be no.

“Yes,” Was all he said, though. You were engaged. Someone else’s. “Friends forever, like I said.”

Your smile widened and you laughed, “Good, excellent. Maybe I’ll see you around then, Dr. Robby.”

He nodded, hands stuffed in his pockets, “I hope so.”

And then he watched, leaning against the car, as you made your way towards the apartment building. You didn’t look back at him. He waited until you were safely inside before climbing back into the car and pulling off the curb.

***

2018

Normally, you could only be found at a local bookstore, but every one you had checked as of late was missing the one book you wanted. So that was how you ended up at Barnes & Noble that day. You were crouched in front of the shelf, looking intently at the spines to locate the title you were looking for and so didn’t notice that someone was now standing next to you.

Successfully locating the novel, you pulled it from its shelf and rose to standing, beginning to read the blurb on the back cover.

Which was how you found yourself face to face with Michael Robinavitch after not seeing him for five years.

“Oh,” You said, “Hi.”

Quickly, you realized it was more than likely he had completely forgotten about you. It had been five years since you had shared that rental car up to Pittsburgh and you hadn’t seen him since. He hadn’t changed all that much, though his beard was a bit more unruly than you remembered.

But then, his face lit up in recognition, “Hi,” He said, seemingly shocked, but pleased to run into you, “I almost didn’t recognize you, your hair… it’s… different.”

You smirked, “Oh, you hate it.”

“No,” He said quickly, “No, I actually think it suits you more than the long hair.”

You smiled, “Nice save. Just as charming as I remembered.”

He shook his head, a flush working its way up his neck, “You still at Presby?”

“Yes,” You nodded, “I’m an attending now, though.”

“Good, that’s good,” You noted the way his eyes fell to your left hand and you knew what he was looking for, “Did you get married, then? You said you were waiting to finish your residency.”

It was shocking to you that he remembered you had said that. At the same time, it sent an ache through you to think about that relationship.

“I did get married,” You said slowly, looking down at your empty ring finger, “We got divorced about a year ago.”

“Oh,” He sighed, “I’m… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s okay.” Instinctively, you placed a hand on his forearm, meant for reassurance. But his eyes stared down at your hand, and self consciously, you pulled away, “We probably shouldn’t have gotten married in the first place,” You shrugged, “Besides, relationships will probably always be doomed for me. Emergency medicine doctors suck at marriage.”

He barked a short laugh and shook his head, “You can’t think like that.”

“Hey, I’m just going by the empirical data,” You tilted your head to the side and narrowed your eyes at him, “Are you… in a relationship? I didn’t see a ring.”

He gave you a lopsided grin, “I’m actually here with my girlfriend, Janey and her son, Jake. Wandered off by myself while they were looking for a book for him for school.”

Oh, it pissed you off the way your stomach sank. He had always said you weren’t his type anyway. He was probably actually telling the truth. It figured the only honest man you’d ever met wouldn’t be into you.

Granted, you didn’t really know Robby, only the version of him that lived in your head from that fifteen hour car ride that you revisited every so often. More so since your divorce finalized. But it was just loneliness, you assured yourself. You had created a version of him in your head that didn’t exist. The man you occasionally pined after was not in front of you, just someone who looked like him.

“That’s lovely, Robby. I’m happy for you.”

He laughed, “You just said ER doctors can’t keep a relationship.”

You shook your head, “Stupid and self deprecating. It’s just a coping mechanism. I’m sure you’re really great at it. Being a boyfriend.”

He scoffed and scratched the back of his head, “I don’t know about that, but I’m trying.” He nodded to the book in your hand, “What’s that?”

You flipped it in your hand so he could see the cover, My Year of Rest and Relaxation by Otessa Moshfegh. 

“Uh, just a book I heard about online,” You shrugged.

“What’s it about?”

You shrugged again, smirking, “A woman who is so sick of everything she gets her psychiatrist to prescribe her enough pills to sleep through a whole year.”

He tilted his head slightly as he looked at you. You had worked with many an ER physician in your career and while in med school. You knew what it looked like when someone was assessing you for injury.

“Should I be concerned?” He asked. His tone was casual, but his posture was anything but.

Your grin widened, “You should always be concerned about me.” You joked, but his frown deepened, “I’m fine, Robby. It’s just a book.”

It wasn’t totally true. You had sought the book out because you suspected you would relate to the protagonist. Maybe too much. But he was a stranger. He didn’t need to hear about your suicidal ideations.

“You still drive stick?” You asked, anxious to move the conversation away from yourself.

He laughed and shook his head, “No, I finally have an automatic like the rest of the population.”

You laughed, “Oh, no. Bummer. You’re just like the rest of us peasants now. Do you at least still have the motorcycle?”

“Sold it a couple years ago.”

You winced, “Man, you’ve really let yourself go.”

He laughed and ran a hand over the back of his neck. You didn’t want to leave, but you felt the longer you stood here talking to him, it threatened to disprove the belief that he could not be as lovely as you made him out to be in your head.

“So,” You said finally and held your fist out to him, “Still friends?”

He gave you a lopsided grin and pressed his fist to yours, “Friends forever,” He repeated the words from five years ago and for a moment it felt as if no time had passed at all, “Like I said. Though I hope to see you again sooner than five years from now.”

“Yeah,” You said, “Me too.” 

***

2023 

Robby had zero desire to meet the new attending Gloria had hired. Whoever it was, they had been hired behind his back and with no warning to him until they were three days out from when they were supposed to start. If Gloria had hired someone behind his back, it had to mean that whoever it was was in her pocket. Or at the very least, Gloria thought that person was in her pocket. And that was enough for him to stay far away from whoever it was.

But what he hadn’t been expecting when Gloria came downstairs, new attending by her side as she gave a tour, was you.

He stopped short and stared dumbly as you and Gloria approached him. Unfortunately for him, he was unable to stop the stupid smile that spread across his face at the sight of you. 

“Dr. Robinavitch.” You said, once you were close enough. Your smile was wide enough to mirror his, “It’s good to see you again.”

He laughed, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You two know each other?” Gloria frowned, looking back and forth between you two.

“Sort of.” You said, “We met at a conference ten years ago.”

Sort of was an accurate way to describe whatever this repeated crossing of paths seemed to be between the two of you. 

“Oh.” Gloria seemed less than pleased at this revelation, “Lovely. Well, I’ll leave you in more capable hands then. Come find me if you need anything.” And then she was gone.

Robby shook his head at you, “I’ll ask again, what the hell are you doing here? Presby get too small for you?”

“Uh,” You shrugged, “I just… really needed a change.”

He smirked, “And… knowing I was here probably made it more enticing?”

You laughed, “You caught me. Thought it was finally time we became actual friends.”

Robby could not explain how pleased he was that you were here. It was stupid that he cared. He hadn’t seen you in five years. And before that brief exchange, he hadn’t seen you for five years before that. So really, he hadn’t seen you in ten years. And yet, he was traipsing you around, introducing you to everyone, laughing a little too loudly at your jokes, like he was a fucking teenager.

Until he was walking you home at the end of the day. Until you mentioned Dean.

“That’s great,” He said when you said it, that you were seeing someone, “So you think you’ve broken the ER doctor curse, then?”

You shrugged, smirking, “Probably not. But I really like him. It feels good, right now.”

“Good,” He said, “You deserve that.” 

And he meant it. You had looked so sad the last time he’d seen you. And even before that, the first time you met, you had struck him as something of a wounded animal. Defending itself with jokes and pessimism. You deserved to be truly happy.

“And what about Janey, how is she?”

He sighed, “Um, we broke up shortly after the last time I saw you. It seems the curse of the ER doctors is still with me. But I still get to see Jake, her son, so I feel really lucky about that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s probably for the best,” He rubbed a hand over the back of his head, “I’ve been a fucking wreck since covid anyway.”

You nodded, “Yeah. It’s been a rough couple of years.” The silence stretched between the two of you. Neither of you brave enough to break it with the horrors you experienced during the pandemic.

Finally, you cleared your throat, “Did you lose anyone?” You asked quietly.

He swallowed thickly, then nodded, “Our Chief of Emergency Medicine, Dr. Adamson. My mentor.”

He heard your sharp intake of breath next to him, “I heard about that. I didn’t realize you were close. I’m so sorry, Michael.”

Something about you using his first name undid him just a little and he had to focus very hard on his shoes and his steps to keep the emotion at bay.

“What about you?” He asked instead, “Who did you lose?”

Because you had to have lost someone. Almost everyone had. Especially if you worked in a hospital.

You sighed deeply, “Our charge nurse, Liz. She was like a mother to me. She’d been charge since I was a resident.”

“Is that why you left Presby?”

“I watched a lot of people I loved and deeply respected burn out and hospital admin did nothing about it. I know too many nurses and doctors both that decided to retire early or completely change careers.” You shrugged, “I don’t know. It felt like I was watching my entire department crash and burn.”

He shook his head, “It’s so fucked.”

“That we’re here and they’re not?” Finally, he met your gaze. Your eyes were warm and impossibly open as you looked at him. If he looked closely enough, he could see his own grief mirrored back at him. He gave you a slight nod. 

“Yeah,” You sighed and looked up at the moon, “It is fucked.”

After a few minutes of walking in comfortable silence, you stopped in front of an apartment complex, “Well, this is me. Thank you for walking me home, though it was completely unnecessary.”

Robby shrugged his shoulders up to his ears, “Let me feel useful, will you?”

You laughed, “Alright. See you tomorrow, then, Dr. Robby.”

He watched you go inside and as he walked away from the building he found himself thinking that he wished you’d call him Michael again.

***

It went like that for weeks. Robby walked you home after every shift, though you insisted it was unnecessary. You talked about everything and nothing. The shift, the hard patients, the ones you lost. To books and music and film. To childhood stories and first loves. It was finally starting to feel like you knew each other, rather than just a projection of each other ten years ago that lived in your respective brains.

But it wasn’t long before he noticed the way you seemed to be shrinking every time he saw you. Your smile just a little less genuine, the spark in your eyes dimmed ever so slightly. And he was too afraid to ask you why.

Instead, Robby started showing up outside your building in the mornings, an iced coffee in hand for you.

A few weeks of watching the two of you walk into the ER together, all smiles and laughs, and Abbot couldn’t keep his mouth shut anymore.

“So,” He said as him and Robby were walking through the ER for handoffs, “You gonna tell me about your girlfriend or am I gonna have to torture it out of you?”

Robby gave him a quizzical look, “What are you on about? I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Oh, okay, so you’re just buying iced coffees every morning for anyone these days?”

Robby laughed, “Are you accusing me of being a harlot because I occasionally buy my colleague a coffee?”

“So she’s not your girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Okay. But you’re sleeping with her?”

Robby huffed and shook his head, “No. We’re just friends.”

Jack narrowed his eyes at Robby, “Friends who… Occasionally sleep together?”

“Okay,” Robby sighed, “We’re done with this conversation.”

Robby walked away and Jack scoffed, turning to Dana, “I’m not crazy, right? They’re definitely sleeping together.”

Dana rolled her eyes, “No, actually. She has a boyfriend.”

“Right,” Jack said emphatically, “And the boyfriend is Robby.”

Dana cracked a smirk, “No, you idiot. She’s seeing someone outside the hospital.”

Jack’s eyes widened, “You’re not kidding? With the way they look at each other?” Dana just continued smiling at him, “Alright, well, no one should be surprised if Robby walks in here one day with a black eye.”

“Who’s punching Robby?” You asked, approaching the hub, “What’d he do now? Is it Mohan? Because, I gotta tell ya, I’d pay to see that.”

Jack laughed, “Not Samira, your bo—“

Dana smacked Jack lightly in the stomach, cutting him off, “You eat anything today, kid? You look peaked.”

You frowned, “I just got here. Are you saying I look like shit?”

“There’s donuts in the lounge, sweetheart.”

“Well,” You pushed yourself off the hub, unable to turn down a donut, regardless of Dana’s implications, “Yeah, okay.” And disappeared towards the lounge.

Dana turned back to Jack, who was rubbing his stomach dramatically as if he’d actually been injured, “Could you not cause trouble on my shift? Go home.”

“Fine, fine,” Jack backed away, headed to the lockers, “But you know I’m right.”

Dana watched Robby as he tracked you with his eyes into the staff lounge, “Man, could you at least try to be less obvious?” She said under her breath, shaking her head.

***

The shift hadn’t been so terrible. You hadn’t lost anyone today and had only gotten yelled at by one patient, and she had been high out of her mind so you didn’t really count it. Still, you were in your head. Or, on your phone. Dean had been MIA for a couple of days now and you were supposed to meet him at his place after your shift, but he hadn’t answered any of your texts or calls.

He had been distant lately. This wasn’t the first time he had disappeared for days on end only to show up later and act like it wasn’t a big deal. You were growing tired of it, of the games. You were forty years old now, you thought once you were this old the men would quit playing games. I mean, fuck, he had you, so what was the vanishing act about? What was he trying to prove?

Grabbing your things from your locker and placing your headphones over your ears, you pressed play on your music and began the walk back to your apartment. You turned the music up loud enough to drown out the thoughts that tornado’d around in your head.

Loud enough that you didn’t hear the man who came up behind you and squeezed your shoulder.

You screamed and jumped back– Only to see it was Robby standing there, hands up as he backed away from you, concern all over his face.

“Fuck,” You swore and bent over your knees, trying to catch your breath after tearing off your headphones.

“Sorry,” Robby said softly, “Sorry, I thought you heard me, I’d been calling after you for a while.”

You straightened, “It’s okay.”

“You, um,” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, “You left without me. You usually wait.”

“Oh–I–Sorry–I–” You sighed, frustrated with your stammering, “I’ve been in my head all day, I just…” You sighed, “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“Hey,” He lowered his head to force you to meet his eyes, a gentle smile on his face, “It’s okay. What’s going on with you?”

You hesitated and then looked away from him, starting to walk again. He fell into step beside you, patiently waiting.

“Would it be weird to talk about my dating life with you?”

He shook his head, “No. Why would it be weird?”

Right, because he wasn’t attracted to you even a little bit. As he was always so quick to remind you. 

You liked being friends with Robby, but working in the same ER you could no longer deny that you found him very sexy. Especially when he caught a rare diagnosis. Or he very calmly and gently explained a procedure to a resident while alarms were beeping around them and nurses were shouting out vitals.

Even just watching the way he rubbed hand sanitizer into his hands between patients had you imagining his hands in… very inappropriate situations.

And all the while you had to remember that he was not, and would never be, into you like that. And also, you had a boyfriend. A very sexy boyfriend in his own right, though my God, could he answer the fucking phone?

“No reason,” You sighed, “I don’t know, um, Dean’s just been a bit distant lately. He hasn’t answered my calls or texts in a couple of days and we’re supposed to meet up today.”

He nodded, “And you’re thinking…?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. He’ll probably break up with me soon. Or just ghost me. That’s what they usually do.”

He frowned, “This happens to you often?”

You smirked, “I know. Hard to believe with how charming and likable I am that I can’t keep a man.”

Robby didn’t laugh, though, just kept walking and silently staring ahead. 

You let the silence stretch and fold between you, Robby clearly holding something back, but refusing to acknowledge it.

“You got something to say?” You said, more casually than you felt.

Robby clenched his jaw and let another few moments of silence pass, “No.”

You gave a short laugh, “Okay.” You said, stretching out the word, “I mean, you can say it, whatever it is. We’re all friends here.”

He shook his head, “I just wonder why you keep choosing men who clearly don’t respect you or even like you very much.”

His words stunned you to a stop. He kept walking for a few steps before realizing you stopped and he turned back to face you.

At the look of surprise, and even hurt on your face, he sighed, “Look, I… I didn’t mean that to come out so harsh, I just don’t understand it. I mean, it was clear even ten years ago from what you said about your ex husband that he didn’t give you what you needed. And now you’re with this loser who can’t even be bothered to answer a text.” He ran a hand over his face, “You could probably have any guy you wanted in all of Pittsburgh, but instead you seem to purposely pick men that disappoint you.”

You scoffed and started walking again, “Okay, so it’s my fault that men treat me like shit?”

“Really?” He fell into step beside you again, “That’s what you’re gonna take from what I said?”

“How else am I supposed to take that?”

He scoffed and shook his head, “I just wish you’d see that you deserve better.”

You laughed and slowed to a stop, “Robby, I’m fucking forty years old. I’m divorced. I’m obsessed with my work. I’m an insufferable know-it-all, as you know. I’m not easy to love. I don’t exactly have men breaking down my door to be with me, alright? Dean is… Not perfect. But he’s all I have.” He stared at you with a look you couldn’t quite place, “What?”

He shook his head and looked down at his feet, “Nothing. Nothing. I’m sorry for what I said… It’s not my business.”

You bit your lip, fighting with the tears that seemed to threaten to overflow. And maybe Robby would think that the tears were just because he crossed a line, but it was more than that. There was something so fucking hurtful about this wonderful man in front of you, who had been so clear that he did not want you, making a whole speech about how you deserved better. Had he not ever once considered that good, decent men just did not love you and never had? Going all the way back to your father who would have done anything for a bottle of scotch but couldn’t remember to pick you up from school?

“Hey,” He said gently, stepping closer to you when he noticed your watery eyes, “I’m sorry, okay?”

He dropped his backpack to the ground and pulled you into his arms, “I’m sorry,” He repeated into your hair, arms tightening around you and anchoring you to his chest. He smelt of clean laundry and fresh pine deodorant. You closed your eyes and for a moment, allowed yourself to be comforted. To imagine what it would be like to be loved by someone like him.

Just for a moment.

***

You sat at your kitchen table, leg bouncing, fingernail gnawed between your teeth as you stared at your phone. It was nearly 9PM and still nothing from Dean.

This was ridiculous. You felt like a teenager waiting by the phone all night. You were just going to show up at his apartment, as planned. Maybe his phone was broken. Maybe a family emergency had come up.

But your earlier conversation with Robby was still playing in the back of your mind. Maybe you should just swear off men for good. Get a cat and dedicate yourself entirely to work.

Sighing, you stood and grabbed your car keys from the hook by the door.

***

You had knocked on his apartment door about ten minutes ago, giving up after a couple of tries. You leaned against the wall beside his door, trying yet again to call him, but it was sent to voicemail. You swore as you hung up, and as you did, the elevator at the end of the hall dinged and you heard the doors sliding open.

A feminine laugh floated down the hallway and you ignored it, still looking at your phone, until the laugh was replaced by silence. No walking. No voices.

You looked up and saw Dean, arms wrapped around a blonde that was easily at least a decade younger than you, probably more, mouth gaped open as he stared at you, “What’re you doing here?” He asked eventually.

What were you doing here? Chasing after a man that didn’t want you, just like Robby said. The tears that burned your eyes were not tears of sadness, but anger and humiliation. You sighed and pushed yourself off the wall, “Don’t call me. I’ll drop off your things next week.”

“Baby–”

“Oh, and just a word of warning,” You turned to the blonde, “He’s terrible at eating pussy.” You said, voice full of venom. 

And then you ducked into the stairwell.

***

You had made it back to your apartment building and after turning the ignition off in your car, had begun uncontrollably sobbing, head resting against the steering wheel.

When the crying began to slow to just hiccups, you took out your phone and dialed Robby.

He answered on the second ring, because he was reliable. Unlike any of the men you’d ever been with.

“Hey,” You sniffled, “You were right about Dean. He doesn’t like me… or respect me.”

You heard him breathe for a moment in the silence as he processed what you had said, “Are you crying?” He asked finally.

You laughed and wiped your nose on your sleeve, “Yeah, I know, it’s fucking pathetic. It’s just so fucking typical that he would cheat on me with some hot blonde in her twenties and just, like, think I would never find out! He didn’t even try to hide it. Knew we had plans tonight, and– Or, I don’t know, maybe the plans were so insignificant to him he really forgot. I guess on top of being really goddamn annoying I’m also extremely forgettable.” You lightly banged your forehead against the steering wheel.

“You’re not annoying or forgettable.” He said gently, almost sweetly.

“You’re just saying that because I’m crying and you have to be nice to me.”

You thought you heard a quiet laugh, “I remembered you after two brief encounters ten years ago. Thought about you quite often after both run ins, in fact. I would say that makes you pretty memorable.”

Robby was many things, but you knew him to always, always be honest. And so his words sprung new tears from your eyes. What were you going to do when some perfect woman inevitably fell in love with him and he wouldn’t answer calls like these late at night? When you were spiraling and a fucking mess?

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t dispute the fact that I’m annoying.”

Another short laugh, “You are passionate and assertive and intuitive and very funny. None of which I find annoying.”

Your chest felt warm at his praise, “You said I was an insufferable know-it-all the first time we met.”

He sighed, “I was stupid then. Besides, I didn’t know then that you used your teasing as a shield to keep the attention off yourself.” 

His revelation shocked you into silence and for a moment you just sat there, listening to his breathing. It was scary to be known and your instinct was to lash out, but you instead counted your breaths.

“Are you home?” He asked finally.

“I’m in my car, parked outside my complex.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

You frowned, “What? What do you mean?”

“I started walking over when I heard you crying. Sorry, is that not okay? Should I turn around?”

“No,” You said quickly, too quickly, and you squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment, “No, I mean, you should come. I would… I would like it if you were here.”

“Okay,” He said softly, “I’m gonna hang up now.”

“Okay.” You murmured and waited until the line cut out before you lowered the phone from your ear.

True to his word, Robby strolled into the parking lot just a few minutes later. When he saw you get out of your car and lock it behind you, he quickened his pace until he was in front of you, pulling you into his arms. Much like he had earlier that same day.

And again, you allowed yourself to be coddled. Allowed it when he kept an arm around your shoulders as he led you into your apartment building. Ignored the flutter in your stomach when he pressed a kiss to your hair and told you you deserved better.

A couple of hours later, you’re on the couch, both pleasantly tipsy from the bottle of wine you had opened and the tears had long since dried. Your feet were in his lap and while the two of you talked, his hand had been unconsciously running up and down your leg.

He hadn’t seemed to notice, but you had. 

“Did you say anything to him? When you left?”

You shrugged, “I told him I’d drop off his things.” Then you laughed, “I might have said something sort of awful to the girl though.”

He smirked, “What’d you say?”

You hesitated only a moment, flush building up your neck as you stared at the wine glass in your hand, “I told her that he was terrible at eating pussy.”

There’s a second of silence and then Robby bursts out laughing, “Is it true?”

You chuckled, still looking down at your wine glass, for some reason unable to look at him when talking about this, “Yes. He never made me come.”

Robby’s laughter died out and the hand on your leg stilled, “Never? Not even once?” You shook your head slowly, “How long were you dating?”

“About six months.”

Robby let out a low whistle, “Fuck.”

You nodded, “You’d be shocked the number of grown men who are clueless when it comes to knowing their way around…” You trailed off and cleared your throat, “Anyway, most men are pretty bad at it, in my experience, if they even like it.”

He exhaled heavily through his nose, “I just think maybe you have terrible taste in men.”

This again. You rolled your eyes, “As I said, the pickings are slim. Beggars can’t be choosers. Who would you have me sleep with, hm?”

When you looked up at him he was looking at you intensely. If you didn’t know any better, you would say hungrily. But just as soon as you were starting to wonder what it was he was thinking, the expression was gone and he stood from the couch, tossing your legs to the side.

“I should probably get going. It’s getting late.”

You tried not to seem too disappointed, “Right. Of course.”

You stood and led him to the door, “Thank you for coming,” You said as you opened the door, “You really didn’t have to.”

“I know. I wanted to.”

You smiled and nodded, “That’s what friends are for, right?” You said, self deprecatingly. You hadn’t meant for it to sound sarcastic, but you knew he must have heard it anyway.

He nodded and looked anywhere but at you. He was acting very strange. “Right, yeah. Friends.” 

You frowned, “Michael,” You said finally and his eyes snapped to yours, “Did I… Did I do something to upset you?”

He shook his head and then his eyes fell to your mouth, “No,” He said, gaze never straying from your lips, “I’m just tired.” He insisted.

“Okay,” You said slowly. He was drunk. Whatever was going on in his head right now meant nothing. Maybe he was staring at your mouth or maybe you had something in your teeth.

“Still friends?” You asked softly.

That joke. That stupid fucking decade old joke, still a shared line between the two of you, coiling ever tighter as time went on. And now it was fraying.

His eyes met yours and this time there was no mistaking the hunger in his gaze. You had mere moments to process the fact that Robby was looking at you with raw, unadulterated desire before his hands had grabbed your face and his mouth crashed into yours.

You gasped in surprise, but he was undeterred, his mouth hurriedly exploring yours as he moved you out of the threshold of the door and kicked it shut behind him. Beneath your initial shock, your body reacted. Robby was a man you had pined for on and off for more than a decade, and he was kissing you like you were a fresh stream and he hadn’t had water for so long that he couldn’t remember what it even tasted like. It took little more for the arousal to begin pooling in your stomach, for the ache between your legs to grow and expand.

But then, he licked into your mouth at the same time he lightly pushed you down on the couch and you could feel the way you dripped into your panties.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” He said breathlessly as he crawled over you.

You could only shake your head, watching him above you like this. You were so full of want, you leaned up to kiss him again–

But he pulled back.

“I need to hear you say it.” He said, his voice husky.

You swallowed, “Don’t stop.” You breathed.

It was enough. His mouth latched back onto yours, tongue making dizzying strokes against your own, and you were embarrassed when a whine escaped you. You tried pulling him by the shirt, needing him closer. At the same time, you wiggled your hips down until you felt yourself press against the knee he had slotted between your legs, seeking pressure and friction for your throbbing center.

But Robby pulled away, “I don’t think so.” He said, “Think I want to show you how a real man eats a meal.”

Were you dreaming? You felt like you were dreaming. Because there was no fucking way Michael Robinavitch was towering over you, obvious erection growing in his pants as he tugged your ankle to bring you to the edge of the couch. There was no goddamn way he was lowering himself to his knees in front of you, eyes never leaving yours.

But he was. And he tugged your shorts down over your knees. When you went to wiggle out of your panties, he stopped you, “Not yet.”

Slowly, he kissed and sucked his way from the side of your knee, up your inner thigh, until you were impatiently wriggling beneath his mouth. He said nothing, only wrapped an arm around one of your thighs to still you.

Finally, he turned his attention to your clothed pussy, running a finger down the damp spot at your center and sighing when your back arched.

“You’re so easy to rile,” He murmured, “It’s a mystery he couldn’t make you finish. It’ll probably only take me a couple minutes. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

The pet name went straight to your head, blood pounding in your ears. Your only response was a breathy sigh as he began delicately kissing you over your underwear. He began to apply a bit more pressure and you could feel his hot breath through the flimsy fabric.

When you felt his tongue, still over that fucking fabric, you moaned loudly, frustrated, “Michael.”

You felt the smug fucker smile against you before his fingers slipped under the cloth at your hips, pulling down. You lifted your hips eagerly to allow him to pull them off you.

Mercifully, he didn’t tease you any longer, his mouth was back on you immediately. If you were eager, he was desperate now, shoving his tongue deep in you and lapping up your juices. His hands held your thighs down so firmly when you squirmed, you thought he’d probably leave bruises.

He moved his mouth up to your swollen clit, humming against it as he pushed a finger inside you. You were so tight around his fingers, getting wetter and tighter as you approached your climax. With every flick of his tongue, every stroke of his finger, you felt yourself lose a little more control.

When he added a finger you thought maybe your brain was so overwhelmed with the pleasure it had forgotten to trigger your lungs to breathe. But a moment later, he sucked on your clit just hard enough to send you toppling over the edge and you were gasping for air. 

When he felt your orgasm rip through you, he released your hips, finally allowing you to grind against his mouth. He moaned at the taste of you while you tugged him by the hair closer to you, impossibly closer.

When it was over, he pulled away from you, rising up to kiss your mouth, the taste of you still on his tongue. He kissed his way up your jawline to your ear.

“How was that?” He murmured against the shell of your ear.

You were still seeing stars from the intensity of your orgasm, “How do you think?” You gasped.

You felt him laugh against your neck and then his body pulled away from yours. You mourned the loss immediately, but clenched your fists at your sides to stop yourself from reaching for him.

“Could I use your bathroom to clean up?” He asked.

You frowned and looked to his pants, still clearly tented from his erection, “It’s at the end of the hall, but let me—“

When you reached out to palm him over his pants, he jerked away. Rejection coursed through your veins and instantly, you knew you were flushed with embarrassment. 

“It’s okay,” He said and smiled at you, but it seemed strained, “I just wanted to make you feel good. I’ll be right back.”

He turned and walked towards the bathroom without waiting for your reply. 

You were still half naked on the couch, feeling confused and hurt as the high of your orgasm left you. What kind of guy made you come like that on the first try and then didn’t want you to touch his cock? What sort of fucked up point had he been trying to make?

***

Robby splashed water on his face, washing the remnants of you from his mouth and beard, and then looked at himself in the mirror.

Oh, you’ve done it now, man. He thought, You’ve absolutely fucked it.

He’d ruined everything. One brief lapse of self control and their entire friendship was now set to implode. 

But you had looked so goddamn sad on that couch and when he heard that loser not only had cheated on you, but couldn’t even make you come, it had flipped some primal, animalistic switch in his brain.

Until all he could think about was you coming undone under his mouth while you moaned his name. 

Still friends? You had asked at the door and he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t say the practiced words and finish the damn joke like he always did. Friends didn’t wonder what the other’s pussy tasted like or what they sounded like when they came.

What was an orgasm between friends? Maybe he could still salvage it. Maybe they could just pretend it never happened. 

He wasn’t prepared to lose you, not when you had just showed up at PTMC after he had spent years thinking about you. Wondering how you were doing. If you were still here or if you had moved away. If someone was finally loving you how you deserved.

The two of you were drunk. It hadn’t meant anything. You would regret it in the morning and he would graciously act like he didn’t know what you were talking about. He’d give you a few days of space and then he’d show up again with an iced coffee and walk you to the hospital. And everything would go back to normal.

It had to. He wouldn’t accept anything else.

***

Robby had left in a rush that night after he came out of the bathroom, giving you a quick hug and a kiss on the forehead as he did.

You were left feeling confused and hurt, that he had rushed out like that after the way he kissed you and touched you. Tasted you like you were a fine wine to be savored. Then turned around and acted like nothing happened. Like he had just done you a favor.

Your thumb hovered over his contact on your phone for a couple days after. You both had four days in a row off of work, a rare blessing. You typed and deleted many texts. And then there was a knock at your door.

Fuck, was he here? Maybe to apologize, to explain why he ran out like that. He was scared, he wanted you, he was in love with you. You felt like a lovesick teen for hoping. 

More likely, he would say it was a mistake and it wouldn’t happen again. And you would accept it even if it broke your heart because you had no other choice. You could either have this much of him or none at all.

But when you opened the door, it wasn’t Robby standing in the hallway with flowers and coffee. 

It was—

“Dean?”

***

Robby was pacing outside your apartment building with your iced coffee in hand. It had been four days since he last saw you. Four days of replaying that night in his head, getting off to the thought of how you felt and tasted. The way you sounded so desperate for him when you moaned his name.

But that was behind him now, he could forget about it if it meant keeping your friendship.

He froze when he heard your building door open and turned to look— It was you. 

You hadn’t noticed him yet, staring at your phone and headphones over your ears. He watched as your lips parted slightly in concentration, tongue darting out to wet them.

He swallowed and averted his eyes. It turned out it wouldn’t be so easy to pretend like nothing had happened. 

He’d keep trying though.

Finally, you looked up and you gave him a confused look as you pushed your headphones off, “Hi,” You said slowly.

He smiled and held out your coffee. Still frowning, you took it, “What are you doing here?” You asked softly as the two of you began the walk to the hospital.

“What do you mean?” He asked, staring ahead. He could feel your eyes burning holes into the side of his face, but he kept his focus ahead of him. It was all easier if he just didn’t look at you. “We do this every morning.”

“Right…” You said slowly and then scoffed when he didn’t say anything further, “Okay. Fine.”

“What do you mean, fine?”

“I mean if you want to act like everything’s fine, like you didn’t get me off on my couch a few nights ago, then okay. I’ll do the same.”

He inhaled deeply through his nose and kept looking ahead, “Okay. Great.” He could hear the irritation in your voice, but he ignored it, “How was the rest of your time off?”

He could feel you staring at him again, and then he thought he noticed you shake your head in his peripheral.

“It was fine.” You said finally, then you cleared your throat, “Actually, Dean showed up with flowers a couple of days ago. Said it was a mistake and begged me to take him back.”

Robby gave a short laugh, “Would’ve paid to see the look on his face when you told him to fuck off.”

You didn’t laugh with him. Didn’t say anything at all, in fact, and he felt his stomach twist with dread, “You did tell him to fuck off, didn’t you?” He asked quietly.

Still, you said nothing. Finally, he turned to look at you, but you were staring intently ahead. The tips of your ears red with what he assumed was embarrassment. Perhaps shame.

He scoffed, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“The last thing I need right now is you on your high horse–”

“Do you have no goddamn self respect, is that it?” He spat, voice rising, “You chase after men who hate you because you hate yourself?”

You stopped walking then, your whole face flushed with either anger or embarrassment, maybe both. 

“You have no fucking right to talk about the men I’ve been with when you behaved just like all the rest the other night!”

“Me?” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, “What are you even talking about?”

“You fucking ran out of my apartment, leaving me half fucked, and acted like it was no big deal. Don’t call. Don’t text. Then you show up at my apartment with a fucking coffee like nothing happened! Like it meant nothing!” Tears of frustration pricked your eyes, “At least with Dean I know what I’m getting, with you… it’s… it’s hot and cold and I never know what the fuck you’re thinking or what you want–”

“I want to be friends.” He said quickly, “I want to be your friend, I want you to be happy.”

You nodded and looked up towards the trees, willing the tears back into your eyes, “Right. Friends. Friends don’t lead each other on.” You said, lip curled, and then you continued your walk to the hospital.

He stared after you, stunned, and then jogged to catch up to you, “I told you from the beginning you weren’t my type–”

You were drowning. It would have been kinder for him to have tied a weight to your foot and shoved you in the river.

You turned and placed your empty hand on his chest and shoved, “Fuck. You.” He was much larger than you and you had a coffee in your other hand so he remained sturdy, though he fell back a step. Tears were streaming down your cheeks now, “We’re not fucking friends. We’re not anything.” You shoved the iced coffee back into his hand, “Just leave me alone, okay?”

Robby stared after you as you stormed off, jaw clenched and melted iced coffee in his hand.

***

Jack and Dana watched as you stormed into the ER, face red and splotchy. Your cheeks shined with tears under the fluorescent glow of the lights above. Robby strode in only moments later, a melted iced coffee in his hand that he tossed in the trash by the entrance as he walked over to the hub.

You were rushing around after stopping at the lockers, draping a stethoscope around your neck as you ambled right into Robby’s path, causing the both of you to stop short to avoid a collision. Jack and Dana watched as the two of you stared each other down for a few seconds, tension palpable, before you stormed off again. Robby stared after you for a moment before running a hand down his face.

Jack and Dana exchanged a look before Jack stepped to Robby and clapped a hand on his back, “Hey man, why don’t we get some air?”

Robby sighed, “I just got here, Jack.”

“And yet you already look like you’ve been through the ringer, so humor me.” He said and steered the other man by the shoulders to the stairs.

Once on the roof, Robby leaned over the railing and Jack joined him, his eyes roving over Robby, “What happened?”

Robby sighed, “What are you talking about?”

“Come on, man, what’s going on with you and Y/N? You ran after her at the end of the last shift. Now you walk in separately and if looks could kill, my friend, you’d be six feet under right now.”

He shrugged, “I fucked up. Crossed a line I shouldn’t have. I hurt her without meaning to. Now she wants nothing to do with me.” He looked at Jack and smirked, “That’s it.”

“So what’re you gonna do about it?” Jack asked, turning his attention back to the Pittsburgh skyline.

He laughed, “Nothing. She told me to leave her alone, so that's what I’ll do.”

Jack shook his head, “I don’t buy it.” Robby looked at him incredulously. “The two of you have been drawn to each other like magnets over the last, what, ten years? And you’re just gonna let her walk away?”

Robby smirked, “I already told you, it’s not like that with her. We’re just friends.”

“What line did you cross, then, huh?” Robby didn’t answer, jaw clenched as he avoided Jack’s stare, “I’ve seen the way you look at her, man,” Jack shook his head, “It’s not friendly.”

Robby was terrified that Jack may be right. That all this time he had been convincing himself you were just a friend, he had been falling for you instead. He knew the way the staff talked, not just Jack. Again and again, he dismissed them as rumors, a bit of lightness to keep everyone’s head above water. But what if there had been truth to it?

He had been so scared of losing your friendship he didn’t stop to think that the reason he was so scared was because maybe he cared for you more than just as a friend.

And if that was true, he had wasted so much time and energy fighting against it only to lose the war anyway.

Robby rubbed at his beard and shook his head, “Well, it really doesn’t matter because I fucked it, so.” He pushed himself off the railing and started walking towards the door that led back to the Pitt, “I should get back down there. Go home.”

Alone on the roof, Jack heaved a sigh, “I should really be getting paid extra for these free therapy sessions.” He murmured to himself before he walked back to the door.

***

For weeks, Robby tortured himself by reliving your last conversation in his head. The realization that you were hurting and he was the reason, it made him feel sick at times. In addition to that, after his conversation with Jack on the roof, he realized too late that he was in love with you. He thought about telling you many times, but it was so clear you wanted nothing to do with him, he thought it would probably just hurt you more.

The one time he had followed you out of the ER at the end of the shift intent on finally telling you, he had walked out to see your arms twined around Dean’s neck, your mouth smiling into his. His stomach had twisted and he could hear the blood pumping in his ears. It was wrong, it felt all wrong seeing you wrapped around him like that. He knew he had fucked up his chance with you, but it hurt worse that his fuck up had pushed you back into Dean’s arms.

 He did his best to stay out of your way, but it was difficult. Since you were an attending yourself, he didn’t need to be involved in all of your cases, but there were times when you begrudgingly asked for a consult. Or a really rough trauma came in and it was all hands on deck.

It was uncomfortable for everyone on those cases. The unresolved tension between you two acted like a whirlpool, extending out and dragging unwilling participants to the center. You would bicker over treatment plans or silently glare at each other over patients.

Once, when he had walked in to you performing a thoracostomy with a warm water lavage, he thought he might fire you from how frustrated he was.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Hypothermic drowning victim, troponin levels suggested there was a cardiac event, I’m clearing the clots and rewarming with warm saline.” You said calmly without looking up from the patient.

“Did you consult cardio?”

“There wasn’t time.”

“You could have at least fucking called me.”

You looked up at that, and then back down, “He’s back to sinus and at normal temp.” You said and began to deglove, “I’m not going to apologize for saving a patient.”

He followed after you as you walked back to central, “You and I both know you’re supposed to call in your chief attending for approval whenever you want to do some crazy procedure that is outside the standard of care–”

“It wasn’t outside of the standard–”

“You’re not a fucking cardio attending,” He said, louder than he meant to. Others turned to stare at the two of you, “Look,” He said, lowering his voice, “You can hate me all you like, but we have to work together when we’re here. And that means,” You had rolled your eyes here and he had to move his head to force eye contact with you, “That you consult me before you do anything that is considered outside the norm. Got it?”

You sighed, “Loud and clear, boss. Can I go now?”

He stared at you a moment longer and his eyes fell to your mouth. He hadn’t meant to stare, to recall the way your mouth felt against his or how soft and pliant your lower lip was when he pulled at it with his teeth, but that’s what he found himself doing.

And you noticed. He watched as your frown deepened and you turned, walking away before he could say anything else.

“Fuck,” He murmured to himself and laced his hands behind his neck. 

“You okay, Cap?” Dana asked as Robby trudged over to the hub, leaning over on his forearms.

“Just peachy.” He sighed.

“You coming out tonight? It’s Princess’s birthday. Everyone’s going to Monterey’s.”

“Everyone?”

Dana smirked knowingly, “Yes, I heard she’ll be there too.”

He shook his head slowly, “Then, no. I will not be going.”

She sighed, “The two of you cannot keep going like this. If for no other reason than it’s starting to affect your work. Time to put your big boy pants on and face… whatever the fuck is going on with you.”

“What do you want me to do, huh? She wants nothing to do with me. Should I lock us in a room together and force her to talk to me?”

Dana shrugged, “Maybe, if you think that’ll work.” Robby shook his head and looked away, “Come out tonight.” Dana said, “There’s nothing a drink or two can’t fix.”

***

It was 8:30 when you walked into Monterey's, having gone home to change. You hated going out in scrubs, it felt wrong somehow.

You spotted Robby almost immediately where he stood near Dana, but pretended you hadn’t noticed him as you headed to the bar. 

It didn’t seem to matter though, because he was next to you two minutes later as you waited for the bartender to return with your drink.

“Could we talk?” He asked.

Your eyes flitted up to his and you found yourself momentarily distracted by how beautiful he was. The freckles, the crinkles at his eyes. You had had to work very hard not to notice the last few weeks. 

You turned back to the bar, “I’m waiting for my drink.”

“I can wait.” He said immediately.

You drummed your fingers against the bar top, “If this is about earlier–”

“It’s not about work.”

You swallowed, “Well, what, then?”

He didn’t say anything, eyes following the bartender as he made your drink. Once the drink was in your hand, he began walking, gesturing for you to follow as he led you outside.

It was quiet out here. The Sun just barely peeking over the skyline, a faint orange glow illuminating everything. You felt claustrophobic as he led you down an alley on the side of the building. It had felt like forever since the last time you’d been alone together.

He came to a stop and turned to you, clearing his throat, “How are you?” He asked softly.

You sighed, “Robby, I don’t–This is unnecessary–”

“Look, I know I fucked up. I think about it every day. But I can’t–”

“So you regret it then? What we did?” Your voice broke as you said it. There were so many layers to how hurt you still felt after everything with Robby. It was difficult to untangle most of the time, so you had just buried it. But standing here with him so close, you could feel it all clawing to the surface, demanding your attention.

“No.” He said firmly, “No, I don’t. I regret the way I handled it.”

You took a sip of your drink and looked away from him, “I see. So you just wish you had maybe let me down easier, then? Is that it?”

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, “This isn’t coming out right. I’m so fucking bad at this.”

You scoffed, “I’m just gonna go back inside, okay? We’re good, I promise, I will make sure to consult you–”

“I love you.” He blurted out, and you froze. “I’m in love with you. I’ve probably loved you a little bit from the moment I met you.”

For a second you just stared at him, the only sound was the sound of each other’s breathing. 

Then, your eyes watered and you inhaled a shaky breath, “Don’t do this.” It came out breathless, a desperate plea, “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do,” He reached out, grabbing your free hand to keep you from running.

You were shaking your head, turning to leave, then turning back when his hand tightened around yours, “You’re just lonely, you don’t want me.”

He tugged you by the hand until you were just inches from him, “I do,” He said nodding, “I love you. And I can say it as many times as you need me to to believe it.”

You swallowed, “You said just a few weeks ago that I wasn’t your type and you’ve been saying it for ten years.”

He shook his head, eyes roving over your face until they settled on your mouth, “We were both there the night I kissed you. Do you really believe that?”

Not really, no. You could still feel the urgency of his tongue in your mouth. You could still hear his reverent sighs at the sight of you naked. Still, he had pushed you away, left you alone and rejected.

Your chin wobbled, “Michael.”

His name came out in a broken plea. You weren’t sure what exactly you were begging for. For him not to mean it or for him to mean it. 

He laced his free hand through the hair at the back of your neck, “Don’t be scared, okay? I’ve got you this time. I promise. I was stupid, I was so afraid of losing you as a friend I ignored the way I really felt.”

You rested your forehead against his, closing your eyes. You wanted to believe him, but you were afraid, too. Afraid he’d change his mind, like all the rest. Leave you more broken than when he found you. 

“I love you,” He whispered and pulled back to kiss your forehead, “I love you,” He repeated, pressing a kiss to your cheek. And he went on like that, kissing your face all over as he repeated those three words and you felt like your chest was being cracked open. If he reached in to pull your heart out, to hold it, still beating in his hand, you’d probably let him take it. You’d let him do anything he wanted if you could just stay in this moment.

Until you couldn’t take it anymore and you caught his mouth with yours. He pushed you into the brick wall behind you, careful to place his hand between your head and the hard stone. The single act of tenderness had tears springing to your eyes again and you felt so fucking pathetic that you kissed him harder, desperate to drown out the feeling.

He moaned when you pulled gently at his lip with your teeth and the sound had the muscles coiling low in your belly, heat accumulating with every new taste and touch and sound.

Mouth still on yours, he frantically unbuttoned your jeans and shoved his hand down between your legs. You whimpered when he dipped a finger just barely into your entrance, his sigh in your ear sounded like relief. Like he had been dying to touch you like this for weeks and weeks, and finally he was saved.

When he pushed his finger fully inside you, you cried out and he covered your mouth with his own to stifle it.

“Robby,” You sighed as he stroked your walls, thumb coming up to rub dizzying circles around your clit, “We… We shouldn’t… I haven’t—I’m still with De—“

“I know you were not about to say another man’s name when I'm knuckle deep inside you, right, sweetheart? You wouldn’t do that, would you?” He added a finger and you would’ve folded if it weren’t for his body pressed to yours, keeping you steady, “You feel so fucking good wrapped around my fingers like this. You gonna come nice and quiet in my hand so no one hears you?”

God, no one else had this effect on you. No one else could talk to you like this, make you soft and malleable like warm putty. It drove you insane. He drove you to the fucking brink and you knew you would still come back and beg for more. He made you insatiable.

When you didn’t immediately answer him, his hand stilled and you whined, shimmying your hips against his hand.

“You can be quiet, can’t you?” He dragged his teeth down the column of your throat, sending chills down your spine.

“Yes.” You sighed, “Whatever you want.”

You felt his smirk against your skin and his fingers started stroking you again. You had to stifle the moans that fought to climb up your throat as he pushed you closer and closer to climax.

“There you go,” He said, pressing tender kisses to the side of your face, “So close, I can feel you. Be a good girl and come for me, yeah?”

His praise sent shockwaves through your body and to quiet yourself and prevent yourself from crying out, you bit down on his shoulder.

“Did so good for me,” He murmured, pulling his hand out and re-buttoning your jeans for you as you fought the daze of your orgasm. He kissed your head and grabbed your hand, “Come on, follow me.”

“Where are we going?”

“To my place.”

“Oh— What about Princess?”

“She’ll forgive us once the rumors spread about why we left together.”

You fought the smirk on your face, “Dean is expecting me later—“

Robby turned to look at you, “Fuck Dean, alright? Let him wait up for you and wonder where you are for once. It’s more than that jackass deserves.” He started tugging you by the hand again and you found you didn’t want to argue.

You knew it was wrong, to punish Dean the way he had hurt you, but in truth, you didn’t think he’d care much when you didn’t turn up tonight. You wouldn’t tell Robby this for fear he’d show up at Dean’s apartment intent on fist fighting him, but you knew he’d continued cheating on you the last few weeks. 

It didn’t hurt as much as it had the first time you found out. Probably because you had been hung up on Robby. 

You’d break it off with Dean tomorrow. Right now, you just wanted to let Robby have his way with you.

***

Finally seeing Robby naked for the first time felt as close to a religious experience as you thought you would ever experience. In his bed, you were kissing every freckle, every scar, every tattoo you could reach while your hand was between his legs, stroking his erection.

He looked wrecked and love drunk as you worked him. Your lower lip caught between your teeth as you learned what touches had him moaning, which had him gasping for air, and which had his eyes rolling all the way back in his head. 

It wasn’t long before he tore your hand off him and pinned it above your head, pushing his tip teasingly to your dripping core, “That’s enough of that, I think.” He said, broken voice betraying just how close to the edge you had brought him.

Quickly, you watched as he ripped open a condom and pulled it onto himself. Wasting no time, he gripped your hips and dragged you underneath him before pushing himself inside you. The stretch had you gasping, but he bent his forehead to yours, kissed you through it as he pushed into you. Every thrust was slow and achingly tender. His eyes rarely left yours, only to occasionally bury his face into your neck.

Anytime you suggested a different position, he shot you down, “No, no,” He’d repeat, your legs locked around his hips, “Just like this,” He’d pant, “Want you underneath me just like this.”

When he finished, you muffled his moans with your mouth, thrusting your hips up into his when the intensity of his orgasm had him unable to keep moving through the aftershocks.

Afterwards, you stared up at the ceiling fan, your head resting on his chest.

“I love you, by the way.” You murmured when you could feel yourself drifting into sleep, “Don’t know if I ever said.”

He kissed your hair and dusted his fingers over your shoulder, “You didn’t have to.”

***

2024

It was cool and cloudy in San Diego that morning. You fiddled with the ring on your finger as you stood backstage at the annual American Academy of Emergency Medicine conference. 

Michael stood behind you, hands rubbing reassuring circles into your shoulders, “You’re gonna do so good, baby. Nothing to worry about.”

“I’m not worried, I could do this talk in my sleep,” You smirked, “I’m just thinking about the first time I saw you here, when you did your talk.”

He laughed behind you, “Well, it wasn’t here.”

“You know what I mean.” You said and covered one of his hands with yours.

“Yeah,” He said, “If I had known my future wife was in the audience I would’ve picked a better shirt.”

Your grin spread across your face as you looked down at the engagement ring on your finger, “And I probably wouldn’t have worn booty shorts to the airport, but hindsight is 20/20.”

He hummed and then your name was being announced, a brief intro given, and then Michael kissed you quickly before gently pushing you towards the stage.

Later, in your hotel room, the both of you were drunk and sprawled out on the bed. Your head rested on his stomach and he had an arm draped across your chest.

He picked up your left hand and inspected it, “I love seeing this on your finger. Probably should’ve proposed the first time I brought you home.”

You smirked, but there was a nagging thought in the back of your head. One that had been there since he got down on one knee.

“What’s wrong?” Robby asked, even drunk he was ever perceptive of your mood changes.

“Nothing.” You said quickly, “Everything’s perfect.”

He let a moment of silence pass, twisting the ring on your finger between his thumb and forefinger, “You know you can tell me anything, right? Nothing’s too scary or too much.”

You did know, but it didn’t stop your brain from convincing you otherwise. Eventually you swallowed and lifted yourself onto your knees so you could turn to face him.

“Do you ever think about the rate of divorce among emergency medicine doctors?”

He frowned, “Not particularly, no. But I gather you do?”

“I just—“ You sighed, “I love you, obviously, so much. But I—I wonder sometimes if… If getting married just invites the possibility of breaking this. And… And what we have is really good and I don’t—“

“Hey,” He sat up, “Slow down.” He paused, “How long have you been thinking about this?”

You sighed, “I don’t know, since you proposed, probably?”

He raised his eyebrows, “Right, okay.”

You deflated, “You’re mad.”

He shook his head, “Not mad. I just wish you would’ve told me sooner.”

“I’m sorry.” You could feel your abandonment fears dusting themselves off in your head. You had never felt as secure as you had with Robby. You had felt loved and safe from day one. Your fears that he would leave again, he proved over and over were unfounded. No one had ever shown up for you like this. And that made the prospect of losing him even scarier.

“Tell me more about it.” He said, “Your fears.”

You sighed, “I—It’s okay, we don’t have to. I want to marry you, I do.”

“I don’t doubt that, honey.” He said gently and wrapped his arms around you so he could pull you to his chest, “But we should still talk it through.”

You swallowed, “If the rate of divorce for ER doctors is so high, does the rate double when it’s two ER doctors instead of just one?”

He’s quiet a moment as he mulled it over, “You ever think that maybe an ER doctor marrying another ER doctor lowers the rate of divorce, rather than increasing it?”

“How do you figure that?”

“Both people understand the crazy schedule and the difficulties of the job. And if you’re like us and work in the same ER, you see each other day in and day out, even with that crazy schedule. Being colleagues probably increases healthy communication and conflict resolution outside the ER.”

Already, you felt soothed, “I didn’t think about it like that.”

“Well I have even more compelling evidence for you.”

You smirked, “What’s that?”

“None of those ER doctors that got divorced were married to me.”

You laughed and turned in his arms so you could kiss him, “I love you.” 

After a moment, you pulled away from him slightly, gears turning in your head, “How long of a drive is it to Las Vegas?”

Robby stared at you blankly until his brain began to catch up, “You’re serious?” He asked, his voice breathless.

You nodded, “I want to be your wife. Right now.”

His laugh was high and unbelieving as he ran a hand through his hair, “What about our friends and family—?”

“We can have a real wedding. Maybe a year from now, we do the whole thing right, renew our vows. But I don’t want to wait that long to be yours.”

He smiled, “You’re already mine.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Not legally. Besides, don’t you think there’s something really romantic about getting married in secret, just the two of us?”

After a moment of searching your face, probably trying to make sure this wasn’t some sort of mental break, he nodded, “Okay.” He laughed and shook his head, “Let’s get married.”

***

“The only car we have left is a manual.” The woman running the rental counter had bleached waves and thick black eyeliner. She chewed gum as she spoke, “Can either of you drive a manual?”

“Sorry,” Robby said, grin already spreading across his face as he squeezed your hand, “There’s no automatics left, is that… Did I hear you correctly? Only a manual?”

The woman narrowed her eyes at Robby. To her, he probably seemed insane, “Look, can you drive a manual or not?”

He looked back at you, then, smiling and shaking his head, “Yeah, we can both drive stick.”

The two of you had walked out of the rental store, giggling and swinging your hands between each other like children. 

It was a five hour drive, so you bought donuts and coffees. Once in the car, you propped your feet up on the dash and stared over at Robby, who was reacquainting himself with a manual.

“You sure you remember how to drive stick?” You asked, mouth half full of donut.

He glared over at you, but couldn’t resist breaking into a smile anyway, “It’s like riding a bike.”

Placing his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, he started the car and began backing out of the parking lot. As he peeled out and fiddled with the radio, you rolled the windows down and were surprised when tears pricked your eyes when you looked back over at him.

You thought about all the heartbreak and lonely nights the last eleven years. The times you thought you’d be alone forever, or worse, stuck in a relationship with someone who didn’t want you. You mulled over all the nights you had allowed yourself to dream about that doctor you met in Florida. A fifteen hour drive that seemed to have rearranged all the planets and constellations of your life. 

He had been your north star over the last decade, always seeming to guide you back to where you were supposed to be. Which was here. In this car. Windows down as you sang along to the radio. His hand held yours as it rested on top of the gear shift. Taking you to your wedding. Taking you home.

[twinsimming]

Lawn Care by Twinsimming 🍃

This mod spawns weeds on home lots for sims to tend.

This is a script mod that can be placed in your Packages folder. It was built and tested on 1.69 but should work fine on 1.67.

Requirements

This mod requires The Sims 3: Seasons and The Sims 3: University Life.

Overview

Weed Spawning

Weed Removal

New Moodlets

Weed Spawning

At 10:00am every day, there is a 10% chance that between 5 and 20 weeds will spawn on a sim’s home lot. 

For each weed spawned, there is also a chance that common insects will spawn with them.

Sims will get the custom Overgrown moodlet if they go outside and there are weeds present on their lot. This moodlet will go away once all of the weeds are removed.

Neat, Snob, Perfectionist, and Hates the Outdoors sims will be more affected by weeds than other sims.

Slob and Loves the Outdoors sims will be less affected by weeds than other sims.

After 4 days, if there are more than 5 weeds on a home lot, the Neighborhood Homeowners Association will give your household a warning. If the weeds are not removed within 24 hours following the warning, the household will be fined §150 (tunable).

If there are more than 20 weeds on a lot at one time, additional weeds won’t spawn until some of the existing ones are removed.

Note: Weeds will not spawn on home lots with Public Room Markers (ex: high-rise apartments).

Weed Removal

There are two methods for getting rid of weeds: removing and spraying.

Remove Weeds

Weeds can be removed from a lot one at a time with the “Remove Weed” interaction.

Sims with the Loves the Outdoors, Green Thumb, Excitable, and Easily Impressed traits will get a custom Fresh Grass positive moodlet when removing weeds.

Sims at least Level 1 in the Gardening Skill will get a skill bump from removing weeds.

The “Tend Lawn” interaction on weeds queues a sim to remove all weeds present on a lot, similar to the "Tend Garden" interaction for plants.

However, removing weeds this way has a high chance of triggering a sim's allergies and giving them the Allergy Haze moodlet.

Spray Weeds

Alternatively, sims can use the “Spray Weeds” interaction to remove up to 10 weeds at a time.

This weed removal method has a 30% chance of turning your sim into a PlantSim, similar to The Sims 2: Seasons.

New Moodlets

Overgrown: Given when weeds spawn on a sim’s home lot, lasts until all weeds are removed from, -15 mood

Fresh Grass: Given when a sim with the Loves the Outdoors, Green Thumb, Excitable, or Easily Impressed trait removes a weed, lasts 1 hour, +10 mood

Tuning

All of the tunable values can be found on the mod download page under the header “Tuning.”

Conflicts & Known Issues

This is a new script mod so there shouldn’t be any conflicts.

Credits

EA/Maxis for The Sims 3, Visual Studio 2019, ILSpy, s3pe, Notepad++, and deathbypufferfish on Tumblr for extracting the TS4 icons.

Thank You

Thank you to Gamefreak130 and fantuanss12!

If you like my work, please consider tipping me on Ko-fi 💙

Download @ ModTheSims

[thy1quitcentral]

K pop demon hunters

Huntrix vs Saja boys

X Honmoon!NB oc

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

.................💗...................

"leave us alone for a second boys" Jinu looked to the other demons.

"aw man" they all whined but went further down the alley way giving them space.

Honey pursed their lips, they shouldn't be talking to demons. At all, all they did was try to take them from the hunters, who have been caring for them for hundreds of years.

"it's.....good to see you again" Jinu smiled looking at honey with a genuine smile. Not a fake one and not a sinister one either.

"look at you" Honey spoke up and smiled weakly "you haven't changed at all huh star boy?" The deity observed him.

"why are you here?" Honey asked looking down the alley where the other boys waited quitely. Demons were probably up to no good at all, honey wasn't bound to let them get any souls.

"we were tired of down there......we escaped" Jinu explains. The other blinked in shock "I wasn't aware that you were able to do that" they admit, who could they be aware, keeping of the surface and keeping demons below was their job, not watching what they were up to in the demon world.

"I wanted to see you again Honey moon" Jinu hummed, lying through his teeth. The deity blinked and smiled softly at that "I did miss you.... unfortunately" they crossed their arms.

"oh ho ho we playing that game now?" Jinu laughs.

"hm?... game? What game?" Honey looked around stupidly but only giggled and broke their lil act.

Felt almost like old times, warm and friendly.

From afar

"damn, Jinu is good at that" Abby comments leaning on romance. Romance hummed "it's whatever, more souls for us if he gets rid of it quickly" he shrugged. "They are so cute, it's disgusting" Baby smiled brightly.

Mystery only watched and observed Jinus interaction. He definitely looked happy with honey, unlike other times in the demon realm.

That just looks like a mixture of pure failure if Jinu got too close.

***

The two wondered

Rumi was still out and not home, it worried Honey.

"hey what's with the frown?" Jinu asked, lifting Honeys chin up gently. "I'm only worrying for my Core voice" they explain but huffs "but I am not to tell you more" they crossed their arms and looked away.

Jinu rolled his eyes "you know you can tell me anything"

"noooo not really, as much as I knew you, you are a demon and I haven't known you in like 400 years? So nope" walking into the air and Jinha jumps from building to building to follow them.

"let me prove it to you, that I am here to follow the passion I once felt like a lost" jinu said in Ernest. "Give you a true connection that no hunter has ever bothered to form with you" Jinu whispers.

One pause and looked to Honey "music?' their eyes sparkled. They frowned "no....I have my core voice with me and we are making a beautiful process, all my past core voices were my dearest friends" they explain and smiled.

"and somewhat, you aren't golden" Jinu counters, that made Honey quiet.

Jinu smiled then glanced at honeys threads, purple to magenta, their eyes glowing that same color for a moment before turning blue.

Honey flinched at the sudden wave and yelps as he falls. The demon boy jumps down and catches Honey "woah what's wrong?"

"I don't know....I have to go" honey spoke urgently.

"wait but-"

Honey was gone.

The demon sighed softly and looked down. So close wasn't he?

******

Honey had gotten home, both Zoey and Mira making some food this time.

"honey!" Zoey gasped "did you find her?" Mira asked in worry. "No, she told me not to follow her" they held their arm and frowned softly.

"I will respect that"

Mira and Zoey frowned for a second "did you sense a disturbance? Your looking at little...purple" Mira spoke as she put her hand on their cheek and checked.

"I am fine, just need a lil lullaby to soothe me" Honey grinned softly. Mira chuckles softly "of course" she rolled her eyes.

"ooooo yes please, it's always so great to hear you sing Mira" Zoey bounced on her heels then took Honeys hand, pushing them into her pile of fluff.

Blankets and pillows placed all together.

Zoey soon joined and sat on Honeys lap. "Oh! Sorry!" She tensed up and got off, bowing slowly and smiled.

There it was again, ya try to make a connection with physical touch and the humans react how they were told to.

'never touch the Honmoon so casually'

They all danced to Mira's song.

"throw it BACK HONEY!" Zoey yelled out.

They all laugh, Honey smiled and felt shy all of a sudden but paused. "Rumi" they turn to the door. Both Zoey and Mira stood up straight, finishing up setting up the table.

Rumi walked in and looked up, seeing the food then her friends...then Honey.

She immediately felt guilty, she was angry....and she lost control. She didn't mean to hurt them.

Honey only smiled "come on the food will get cold.

******

The girls ate and the deity sat and kept them company.

"I'm really sorry about the show" Rumi sighed "hey it's okay....we can reschedule" Mira states. They had called Bobby but it sounded like he had his hands VERY full.

"that human needs a raise" Honey hummed in thought.

"I don't know if that'll be possible...my voice it's..... something is wrong" Rumi admits. Honeys looked at Rumi with concern

"why would you move the single up then Ru" Honey asked gently. "Because we were so close and this is important" Rumi looked at the other two.

"for you too" she turns to Honey. "You'll be your truest you and your destiny would be fulfilled, humans won't have to die anymore from demons. All the demons would be gone" the girl fixed her shoulder sleeve.

The deity pursed their lips and nods "I appreciate that Ru, but all human are fragile, you should've waited."

"but thats the thing, hunters are not meant to show their flaws or fears. Especially not in our Honmoons precences"

Mira and Zoey both joined in at hunters, they both roll their eyes and giggled

Honmoon rolled their eyes with a small huff and crossed their arms. They say up straight, all high and mighty to please their friends.

Rumi giggled gently.

"but yeah we have to fix it"

"definitely"

They conjured up ideas and settled with Zoey's idea.

******

Late at night, Honey doesn't sleep, they didn't need to. They sat on the rail of their balcony.

"Give you a true connection that no hunter has ever bothered to form with you"

Why did that stick to their mind?

They had connection, they had for many generations.

Rumi and Honey were so close to building it. Honey turned gold ever so slightly

They disappeared, no memories of the rest of the concert, they felt....gone.

Part of Honey

A very small part

Didn't want to turn gold

[harmonysanreads]

── ᡣ𐭩 MILESTONE EVENT : SPECTRUM OF LOVE

𓆩♡𓆪 FOREWORD AND GUIDELINES

-; ੈ♡˳ In celebration of us becoming a coalition of four thousand simps, I'd like to introduce everyone to this event. I really wanted to do something special and ordered instead of a freestyle request taking one. The Arabic language has some very nuanced words for love and honestly, they scratch my brain just right. I'm not a native speaker but I tried my best to understand their essence! Thank you everyone for all the support you've shown me the past few years. I hope you enjoy this little event<3

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Please pick a word from the following section and send me an ask in this format — [ Word ] + [ Character Name ]. Example : Al Hawa + Alhaitham.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 These prompts will be written as an exploration of how the characters would behave, how they'd advance to that stage and little quirks for that particular stage of love and will include an interaction.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 One slot per person please, as there are only fourteen slots. I'll have to not take the request if someone violates this rule.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 The Reader will stay gender neutral for everyone's enjoyment.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You can add any message or tidbits of brainrot in your ask!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Anonymous requests are allowed. But do be careful to not pull any tricks.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 In the case that one prompt has been requested by multiple people, the first person that'd requested it will be prioritized.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 When a prompt has been accepted, I'll add the character that's been paired to it in the masterlist to indicate that.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Please check the list of characters I write for in Honkai : Star Rail and Genshin Impact before putting in a request. For this event, my interest in writing for everyone from that list is equal!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Exclusively for this event, I'll also be writing for Caleb, Sylus and Rafayel from Love and Deepspace and Hero X from To Be Hero X!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 One character can only be paired with a maximum of three prompts, for fairness. If a character has already been requested thrice, you cannot request another prompt for them.

𓆩♡𓆪 THE SPECTRUM

❝ Al Hawa — Attraction ❞

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Mydei

The first degree of love is like the wind ; it is unavoidable, it is felt and it can rise or fall. It brings with it a seed. Countless questions whirl past. But can any of them be answered?

❝ Al Alaqah — Attachment ❞

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sylus

A sapling has emerged. Their hearts are hands reaching out, fingertips halting a breath away from contact. Their eyes chase after your shadow, studying and remembering its every curve.

❝ Al Kalaf — Infatuation ❞

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sunday

From a touch to a hold — the sapling has spread its roots. An ache fills the hollow of your absence ; intensifying, intensifying, intensifying.

❝ Al Ishq — Desire ❞

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Il Capitano

Desire stems from infatuation and begets passion. It canopies their vision like black mist — will they wave it away or will they let it engulf them?

❝ Al Sha’af — Passion ❞

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Zhongli

Passion shall soothe the pain, ameliorate the cracks and keep the plant of your love standing against tumultuous storms. But it is still treacherous, rebellious.

❝ Al Najwa — Heartburn ❞

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Hero X

The flame of passion has engulfed them. Each moment apart burns away at their heart.

❝ Al Shawq — Longing ❞

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Phainon

But is it okay to yearn access to every breath and blink of yours? They question and reflect, drench themselves in guilt and yet, at the end of the day, return to you.

❝ Al Shaghaf — Affliction ❞

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Jing Yuan

A most vicious sickness has sunk its talons into their skin, the fog of that poison blankets their mind. Will the thorns prick the same petals they'd sworn to protect?

❝ Al Jawaa — Grief ❞

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Dan Heng

Untamed affliction will invite destruction, grief will follow its course. Will they choose to move on or refuse to let go?

❝ Al Taym — Enslavement ❞

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Wriothesley

A cage is set around that plant. Their love has binded them in place, they're mere slaves to your smiles. Utterly fascinated by the way it consumes them whole.

❝ Al Istikana — Submission ❞

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Aventurine

The plant no longer dreams of escaping the gilded enclosure. No, it spreads its vines and engulfs the bars of the cage, tender leaves whispering soothing nothings.

❝ Al Tabl — Malady ❞

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Rafayel

The plant's grasp only tightens more and more. But there is still a gap of salvation. Will they choose to utilize it?

❝ Al Tadleeh — Disorder ❞

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Anaxa

The plant rejects sustenance and neither allows the cage to be free from its shackles. For it, to live now is to live for that cage.

❝ Al Huyum — Insanity ❞

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Phainon

The ultimate price for love is madness. The slightest separation shall no longer reward an ache of longing, no, no. It will feast upon their last specks of reason and drive them towards their demise.

𓆩♡𓆪 SOURCES USED

♡ The 11 Levels of Love in Arabic

♡ 14 Stages of Love According to the Arabic Language

[sevarchive]

hey everyone :)

this is honestly really hard for me to write, but i want to be real with you all—maybe for the first time, maybe for the last time.

i made this account during a time when i was struggling more than i knew. before i even started posting, i was already burned out and sinking into a kind of sadness i didn’t fully understand. when school ended, instead of feeling better, things just got heavier. the loneliness crept in so quietly that i barely noticed it at first—like a shadow following me everywhere, but invisible to everyone else. most of my closest friends disappeared after school ended. i told myself they had their own lives and problems, and maybe they did. but that didn’t make the silence any less painful. it just made me feel like i was fading away, like i was slowly turning into a ghost that nobody could see or hear anymore.

for a whole month, i woke up and went through the motions without really living. i’d stare at the ceiling for what felt like forever, trying to find a reason to move. i felt like i was just existing, trapped in a cycle of monotony and quiet pain. i was wearing a mask, a mask so good even i forgot what was beneath it. then, by some small miracle, i logged back into this old tumblr account. and with it came a spark—blue lock, a fandom, a place i loved. slowly, i found myself laughing at posts again, writing little jokes, sharing stories, and connecting with all of you. this space became a sanctuary when everything else felt like it was crumbling. and you—yes, you reading this—became my light in the darkness.

i can’t put into words how much you all mean to me. you’ve been the reason i’ve found the strength to keep going. to wake up wanting to write. to feel joy again, even in small moments. your support, your kindness, your love, support and words carried me through days when i thought i couldn’t carry myself. please know that you’re not just followers or fans to me—you’re my saplings, my family in this little corner of the world. and i love you with everything i have. but lately, the loneliness has been creeping back, even beneath the smiles and posts. and the pressure of real life hasn’t eased up—student council duties, school starting again soon, anxiety that hits harder each night, and panic attacks i can’t ignore. i’ve realized that no matter how much i love being here with you, i have to take care of myself too. i can’t keep pretending i’m okay when i’m not.

so, with a heavy heart, i want to let you know that i will need to take a break from writing for awhile. i need to rest—not just my body, but my mind and my heart too. before my last year as a senior starts again in less than three weeks, i want to try to find myself again and heal the parts of me that have been hurting quietly for a long time.

this isn’t goodbye. this account isn’t going anywhere. and if i have the strength, i’ll still post or write something from time to time. my drafts and plans will have to wait for now, but they’re not gone forever. but i will still reply to any inbox messages y'all will send me and interact from time to time :)

once again, thank you sm everyone. from the bottom of my heart, thank you for staying with me, for your kind words, your messages, your support, and your love. every single one means so much to me. if you want to reach out, i’ll be reading your messages with so much gratitude. btw, please take care of yourselves too. hold on to the people and things that bring you even a little light when things get hard. i’ll be trying my best to do the same.

remember, this isn’t a goodbye. rather, it’s just a see you later.

with all the love i have left,

nat <3

[the-s1lly-corner]

48 hour requests

That's right! It's that time again! As always there is the info! TLDR on the rules under the cut, I do recommend skimming through the Fandom list real quick though as the tags likely don't cover all

Rules and fandoms

NOTE that this blog runs off a queue system, so be patient! The queue is set to post two x reader posts a day by default, should the queue exceed 40 requests it will be bumped to three posts daily

WHAT I WILL WRITE

romantic, platonic, familial... angst, and fluff! anything that isnt NSFW is fine (Ive got a blog for that... requests are... partially opened... kinda... you're free to ask for it so long as you have an age indicator somewhere on your blog. otherwise if you stumble upon it and interact w/o an indicator you will be blocked on sight no exceptions.).. poly is allowed!

readers with traits (can be anything really! hobbies, looks, and so on!), readers are GN by default but you can request a specific gender I just cant say how relevant haha/lh

maximum of 3-4 characters per request, no specified characters will be thrown to a wheel to choose characters. prompt/alphabet requests are limited to 3 prompts 1 character per ask for masterlist purposes

AUs are allowed to a degree- if its a specific AU by someone else it might be rejected due to me not knowing the source/AU

Suggestive requests are allowed BUT there is an unclear line. I will communicate when something teeters too close to NSFW territory

WHAT I WONT WRITE

full on NSFW or hard topics (rape, incest, ect). topics such as ED or SH or past abuse may be asked so long as its not on screen or an endorsement, but even then it may still be denied. fully hinges off of admins mental health that day and what exactly is being requested

some characters are locked for platonic requests only, any requests for romance will be deleted

no character based readers, mostly due to fandom wiki being unreliable and annoying to navigate

NO concealed kink requests. im not dumb, i know what youre trying to do. i do not kink shame but this is not the blog for your request. if you REALLY want to you can ask me about my NSFW (see above in the prev mention of the blog)

WHERE/HOW TO REQUEST

Requests are only to be sent to the inbox. I am not comfortable with requests being sent to my PMs, plus its harder to keep track of. Same goes for requests left in the comments

Asides from that so long as it abides by the above rules you're free to go whack! You may send in multiple requests just be mindful that there are other people requesting and I am only one admin

GENERAL BOUNDARIES

Just be kind man. If I do not see your request or get to it faster please just be patient. Requests will open again soon- do not spam me in my inbox or messages. And because it needs to be stated, do not follow me to my other blogs to badger me about it either

[forthetaintedsorrow-whump]

The following is simply a suggestion on how a Whump Fight (including writing and art) could be run, to include how to handle equity between whumpers/whumpees, and drabbles/art.  Please feel free to use or discuss or whatever ^^  Bit long, so placed under a readmore:

Art Fight Portfolio -> Whump Fight Portfolio

For Art Fight, I gather that each person has a single simple visual board with a few character's heads and that's it.  The simplicity should be kept. 

Whump Portfolio: Visual board with a few character heads, self drawn or Picrew. Character information includes only:

name and age

whether the character is a Whumper, Whumpee, or both

1 primary whump trope trait (defiant whumpee, cinnamonroll, sadistic whumper, etc). 

1 primary behavior trait (always fights back, meek and easily gives up, etc)

About the player section:

player lists a handful (say, up to 10 for simplicity) whump tropes they really love

Any Hard No's (things you definitely do not want in your gift fic/art) 

And that's it.  I'm not in favor of any character backstory, because that impedes the nature of the fight, which is to enable people to easily 'attack' others, and descriptions like that take a lot of time on the part of the Attacker to read and then tailor their Attack to be that super personal.  I personally wouldn't read them and they'd make me inclined not to participate.  I'm sure others believe otherwise, but I'm in favor of keeping things simple.

I view the purpose of Whump Portfolio is to enable quick gathering of the most primary information necessary to stage an Attack, whether written or visual, without cluttering or overloading participants with a requirement to read pages about each player they attack.

Whump Fight

As for the Fight itself, if someone only has whumpees and no whumpers, that makes it very difficult for interaction.  They become basically a receiver and not a giver, and that's no good.  So, for an equitable fight, every participant must equally give and receive (whump and be whumped).  The first round should start with all participants attacking (whumping) a target of their choosing.  Now for people like me who don't have an established whumper character, that's OK.  You just develop a character on the fly for the purposes of the attack (generic Whumper, if you will).

The Attack goes like this: select a player's character (Whumpee).  Write one or more paragraphs (minimum 1) of Whumper whumping the character in a manner of your choosing. 

Hard Rule 1: You must follow your target’s Hard No's for comfort and safety.

Hard Rule 2: You should use the whump trope trait and behavior trait of your target’s character (Whumpee) to guide your (Whumper’s) interaction with them.

Optional: You may use your target’s trope preferences as inspiration. Points: Quality is subjective.  Therefore, the point system should be well understood and simple to apply.  I imagine something like a list of a number of Rounds (say, between 30 and 60).  Each Round (ex. Round 1) has 3 or more whump tropes (ex. handcuffs, collar, manhandling).  Ex:

Round 1: handcuffs, collar, manhandling

Round 2: gags, whipping, threats

Round 3: stress position, stabbing, sleep deprivation

….etc.

A person gains a point for an attack, and an additional point for every whump trope from the Round that their Whumper performs on Whumpee (their target).  In the case of a conflict with Hard No's we can have a list of alternate tropes to choose from.

For artists, their image should depict in some way, each required trope for the Round to get max points.

In addition to tropes, we can add qualitative items, such as Descriptive Areas:

Environmental descriptions

Physical descriptions

Emotional/mental descriptions 

You get one point for adding a detailed description in each Descriptive Area (say, 4+ sentences in each area.)  For artists, that would equate to:

Background

Clothing/accessories

Facial/posture expressions. 

If artists add a background, go beyond a mere simple shirt and pants outline, and take time to render expressions or posture, they get a point for each of those.

Additional points could be obtained by incorporating one or more of the target's favorite tropes from their Portfolio, because those could be seen as the target’s 'weak points' during an Attack.

I'm not a fan of points for color because that implies other mediums (pen, black and white, abstract) are invalid forms of expression.

After the Attack (Whump) each attacked player has the chance to Respond from the perspective of their whumped Whumpee, following the same Round rules that the Attacker (Whumper) used.  They get a point for the Response, plus points for addressing Whumpee's reaction to each Round trope, and additional points for including detailed descriptions in each Descriptive Area.  Whumpee’s Response wins points for Whumpee's team.

Artist responders may feel they have a bit of a challenge as Whump and Response pictures may be similar to each other, but that's OK if they're similar.

Deconfliction Rule: To avoid, for example, 10 Whumpers choosing the same player to attack at the same time and during the same Round, there can be a first come first served rule.  Players must declare a target before gifting.  This marks the target as ‘under attack.’  A player currently under attack during an Attacker's Round can be marked temporarily ineligible for other Attackers in the same Round (like Round 1) until the Attack is finished and submitted (drabble or art submitted).

This also has the benefit of spreading the wealth by forcing people to Whump (ie, write a drabble/picture for) other players instead of paying attention to only their favorite person.

Each player goes through Rounds at their own pace, so one fast player could be attacking on Round 10 while another may be on Round 3.  This also means that a player may not receive attacks from every single individual Round: Over time, they could receive 2 attacks from players on Round 7, 3 attacks from players on Round 21, and so on.  This is fine. 

A player does not need to Respond to every single Attack.

An Attacker does not need to perform all Rounds on the same receiving player.  The Attacker steps through each Round in sequence with each attack made, no matter who they target.  For example, an Attacker might start Round 1 with player Bob, continue Rounds 2-4 with other players, and then happen to hit Bob again under Round 5.

Players who finish the entire Round list with their Attacks (Whumps) could get a bonus number of points for their team.

Players also get bonus points for their team for completing a number of Responses (Whumpee responses) equal to the total number of Rounds.  (Ex. If 30 Rounds are decided, completing 30 Responses nets you this bonus.)  Players have the freedom to pick and choose which Attacks to Respond to.

Example Flow:

Fight start!

All players must declare a target to Attack on Round 1.  The intent to Attack is marked on the receiver’s (Whumpee’s) board.  Deconfliction Rule: cannot attack the same player already under a Round 1 Attack until that Attack is finished.

Players submit their Attack under Round 1.  Round 1 Attack is now considered finished and marked off on the receiver’s board.  Receiver is now open to further Round 1 Attacks if other players still on Round 1 attack them. 

Players finished with Round 1 Attack may move to Round 2 and attack again.  Deconfliction Rule applies.  Receivers of Round 1 may write Response(s) if desired.

Clarifications: A player can be Attacked at the same time by other players who are on different Rounds, just not by multiple players on the same Round.

Players don't need to Respond to every Attack.

Players who love to whump don't need to Respond (Whumpee's role) at all.  They may simply conduct Attacks (Whumping) on others.

But no players may solely receive.  Players who write Responses (Whumpee POV) must at Attack at least once each time they write a Response.  This is to prevent, for example, a society of 100 receivers to 10 attackers, and only the 10 attackers are doing the heavy lifting (the Whumping).  It's my understanding that there tend to be more people who prefer the role of Whumpee to the role of Whumper.  This rule is in effect to establish a fair playing field.

If a player is solely using the role of Whumper (only Attacking) and another player Attacks them, then that Attacker is in effect role-reversing the Whumper.  This is acceptable in the game.

Age Ratings

Two Options

Keeping at T for Teen, with the understanding that people may be interacting with all ages.

Mutual-user choice.  Whump Profiles marked with R18 acknowledge that they are adult and are willing to accept adult whump Attacks (Mature/Explicit smut, gore, etc), and accept personal responsibility if the Attack isn’t their cup of tea.

These are some logical options for how to handle equity between whumpers/whumpees, and drabbles/art.  Please feel free to use as you see fit.

Whump Fight is basically Art Fight... but for whump! And it not only includes art but also writing and (possibly) GIFs and possibly more!

[welcometoteyvat]

me, watching chongming stocks go up: it's all coming together

[apocalypticdemon]

I am so beyond ready to quit this job. Wednesday cannot come fast enough.

[leapdayowo]

Preserving tags from previous

Yes! We are speaking from experience! It has helped me to take regular long breaks and not force myself to make art to post online on a regular basis. The break resets my expectations from being unrealistic so that every interaction means something to me and I start making art because I enjoy making it and sharing it, not just because I’m chasing a ‘high’. Admittedly, the internet has allowed for many artists to get exposure and even use it as a job, but realistically if you are pursuing art as I career look at real life opportunities!! Look for contests and art exhibits to put your work in! That’s the stuff that will matter more than how many people follow you on social media :)

Small artists you need to understand that when you see an artist who you think has 'made it' tells you not to worry about the numbers and to not fret about getting more likes than reblogs they are not telling you it because they think you are stupid for caring or because they dont need to network to survive they are very likely telling you that because they have witnessed first hand the way the numbers game tears people to shreds in terms of mental health and motivation

[jimingyue]

Cat Tumblr Dashboard Simulator

🖋️ meowful-musings Follow

🕊️ birdwatching Follow

what's wrong with dry food??? my humans feed me it all the time and i think it's fine

💀 elusivehider-deactivated948204

op wheres the natural feeding option

🌲 outdoorsy Follow

you guys are getting fed?

#im a barn cat so maybe im missing something here #meowtthew don't look

7,192 notes

☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow

ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE

ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE

YOU ARE NOT LESS VALID IF YOU ARE NOT A SPECIFIC PEDIGREE!!!!!

☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow

extra special shout out to cats who have "common" coat colors. grey tabbies and black cats i am rubbing against your head affectionately <3

🪤 m0usetrap01 Follow

as a grey tabby i really needed to hear this :"3

#i feel like i never see positivity posts for moggies even tho we're the most common type of cat....

154,688 notes

🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow

i cant believe there are cats ACTUALLY advocating for kittens to be separated from their mothers before 12 weeks??? kittens still need to learn how to interact with other cats before being placed into their furever home omg you guys know you're advocating for undersocialized and aggressive cats right

❤️ loving-paws284 Follow

um op some of us??? matured early??????? i was separated from my mother at 7 weeks and i turned out fine... interesting how you assume that kittens being separated from their mothers at a younger age will lead to the degeneracy of the next generation...hmm i wonder where i've heard that before...

🐈 fluffy-the-cat Follow

OP got bit too hard during a play-fight as a kitten and it shows XD

🐟 tunafeesh Follow

also op have you ever considered that just because somecat is kind of scared and unable to deal with strange cats or humans, it doesn't mean they don't deserve to be adopted?? you sound like a vet psyop honestly

🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow

oh meow god saying that kittens should be fully weaned before leaving their mother is NOT veterinarian rhetoric and i never said that they deserve to be euthanized!!! my mother literally died when i was 3 weeks old and it seriously messed up my development so stop putting words in my mouth, thanks

anyway friendly reminder that underweaned kittens are prone to illness and often struggle with basic cat behaviors like litterbox usage, and in some nyavinces it's even considered kitten abuse

#discourse #cant believe "kitten abuse is bad" is controversial now

32,456 notes

🍃 naturalliving Follow

BORN TO DIE

WORLD IS A FUCK

猫神 Kill Em All 1989

I am trash cat

410,757,864,530 DEAD BIRDS

#outdoorliving #outdoorcats please interact #outdoorcat friendly

48,971 notes

🎣 salmonpurina Follow

can't believe cats are uncritically reblogging that born to die world is a fuck post. i know it's funny but op is literally an outdoor cat truther

#like cmon now you just have to go to their blog #lulu speaks

34 notes

💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712

gentle reminder that pushing cups off the table is not cute and can cause a lot of distress in your human!!!! gentle reminder that our teeth and claws can easily hurt them more than they can hurt us!!!!

🐰 evil-tabbystripes Follow

evil reminder that the cup should always be pushed off the table. evil reminder that you should always bite and claw at your human no matter what. you can do whatever you want forever

💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712

make your own pawst

💀 laser-point-deactivated8574721

umm i know a tomcat who did that and his human ended up putting him down so...

👬🏻 nyasunaruenjoyer Follow

Nyaverage shelter cat behavior

#not nyaruto #re-nyab #pickles shut up

545,460 notes

🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow

saw two male cats sleeping together on the porch today. homeow behavior imo

💡 discourse-meows Follow

hey um what the fuck??? it's really not okay of you to go assuming other cat's sexualities, especially cats you don't even know???? as a queer cat i'm VERYY uncomfortable. real-ass cats didn't consent to your nyaoi fetish, thanks

🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow

1. i was making. a joak

2. i'm literally gay???

#literally what's your pawblem

7 notes

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

reblog if you've ever caught the laser pointer

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

i know you fuckers are lying

🍭 gaykittens Follow

this tom hasn't caught the laser pointer

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

shut the heull up

988,653 notes

🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow

grey toebeans >>>>>>>>> pink toebeans and don't let the haters make you believe otherwise

🐁 ladymouser Follow

op shut the fuck up ALL toebeans are beautiful!!! just bc you're miserable and insecure doesn't mean you can bring others down based on things they can't control

🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow

oh so the cat-human separationist wants to preach to us

[mydearzero]

Bribes | Stiles Stilinski x Reader

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You get paired with Stiles to write a paper for Coach's class. But when had Stilinski grown into his awkward features? When had he grown out his buzzcut? Why was he suddenly so insanely fuckable?

Contents: NO Y/N, afab!Reader, smut, Stiles is a bit cocky lmao, fucking in the jeep, reader is related to Coach (wether adopted or not doesn't matter), vaginal fingering, p in v sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, clumsy sex, playful banter, oral sex (v receiving), casual sex, coming inside, mentions of birth control, making out if I missed any warnings please let me know!

3.5K words

Had to get Stiles out of (pls into plEASE) my system SOMEHOW, so here you go. This one is dedicated to @uglypastels for indulging my obsession and continuously sending me Dylan O'Brien thirst edits <3 <3

“Just so you’re aware, this paper is as high on my list of priorities as the Pope is in Amsterdam,” Stiles dropped his binder on the table, startling you out of your daydream. He was exactly 4 minutes late, not that you were counting. It was still impressive, seeing as he just came from practice. 

“Believe me, I, too, would rather be hanging around with Isaac Lahey, yet we’re both here. Let’s just get it over with.” Stiles snorted a laugh, but didn’t comment.

You didn’t not get along with Stilinski. You weren’t sure if you could be called friends, exactly. You’d known each other pretty much all your lives, just like the majority of your school. Beacon Hills wasn’t exactly a metropolis. 

You sighed and laid out your notes, Stiles following your example. You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Those are your notes?” 

There were only doodles, random calculations and sporadic keywords scribbled on the loose piece of crumpled paper he straightened out next to your notebook. 

“I’m surprised, too. There’s actual words. I don’t usually get that far.” The smirk on his face could only be described as smug. You groaned. This was going to take forever. You divided the topics for the paper amongst yourselves and silently got to work. The ‘silently’ part didn't last long, however. It never did with Stiles.

“Are you still living with your uncle?” He questioned suddenly. You frowned at the question, confused, but nodded either way. 

“So can’t you just, I don’t know, cook him dinner and have him give us a good grade?” The gleam in his eyes nearly made you laugh. Nearly. Instead, you flicked him on the side of the head. He whined something about unnecessary violence, but it fell on deaf ears. 

“I’m not bribing my uncle just so you can slack off, Stiles. Besides, I’m never really sure if he even likes me,” you wondered out loud. 

“You and me, both…” Stiles grumbled. 

You glanced at Stiles as he scribbled furiously, seeming to finally get some of his research done. His knees wiggled excessively as he wrote about the economic effects of pandemics. You wrote down a few key parts of the paragraphs in your book before turning to your laptop and beginning the outline of the paper. Stiles hummed quietly as he read the entry he’d just written, tapping his pen furiously against the table. 

“Can you stop that?” You requested, his incessant movement distracting you more than his general being already did. He glanced up, an amused expression on his face. 

“What,” he tapped his pencil faster. “This?” You contained the urge to roll your eyes and stared at him blankly. He stopped the movement for perhaps one whole minute before picking it back up again. 

You only glanced up pointedly this time. He added a jiggle of his knees in challenge. You rose from your chair, leaned over and snatched the pen out of his hand, throwing it across the library. “Fetch.” 

Stiles gaped up at you in surprise. The timing of it was very unfortunate, but you’d never really noticed how Stilinski had grown into his awkward features. Something must’ve shown on your face, because Stiles now looked just as confused, perhaps intrigued, as you felt. While you’d been confident in throwing his pen across the room in annoyance, having him look up at you like that made it so you weren’t sure if you wanted him to get up. You cleared your throat and sat back in your chair. 

“Unbelievable…” Stiles muttered under his breath as he got up to get the pen. It gave you time to recompose. You didn’t look at him as he sat back down, but felt his eyes burn a hole through the side of your head. 

An unfamiliar tension hung in the air while you worked in silence. You snuck glances at Stiles, who was finally focussed on his writing once more. His hair was longer, still messy and unstyled from practice. The grey workout gear perfectly accentuated his broadened shoulders. He bit his lip after reading a complex entry, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like on your own, or on your neck while your hands tugged on his now perfectly tuggable locks. 

A few times his eyes met yours. You’d quickly dart them back to your notebook, pretending you hadn’t been looking, knowing damn well he’d seen.  

Oh my god. Get. it. together.

“Did you finish?” You dared ask after a while, having completed your own part. All you had to do was put your parts together, wrap it up and finish. 

“I’ll give it to you, but you have to give something to me first,” Stiles spoke in a challenging tone. For a split second back there you’d wondered how he was still single after all this time, but now you were reminded. He was insufferable. 

“What could you possibly want from me, Stiles? Just give me your damn part.” 

“A kiss.” 

“What? No!” You sputtered. Stiles’ tongue poked the inside of his cheek cockily as he raised an eyebrow, pointing to his lips. 

“Guess you’ll have some explaining to do to your uncle why you’re only handing in half an assignment, then.” 

“This is coercion, Stilinski! Should I call your dad?” You crossed your arms, refusing to look him in the eye. The librarian shushed you loudly. You could feel heat rush to your face, but didn’t relent. Asshole. 

Stiles leaned closer, running a finger over the side of your face. Your heartbeat increased what seemed about tenfold.

“It’s not coercion if you want me to.” His breath hit your neck as he spoke, sending goosebumps down your arms. “And I’m getting the feeling you really want me to.” 

You jerked away from his reach, coming to your senses. You gathered your things into your bag, mumbling something about your GPA being fine, anyway. You stomped away from the table, heart racing. You were mad, not because he was suggesting something you didn’t want, rather that he’d clocked exactly what you wanted so easily. 

Concerned Stiles would follow you out of the library, you hid behind a few bookshelves in a section nobody usually visited. You caught your breath, placing your palm on your chest. You dropped your bag on the floor, turning to peek around the bookshelf to see if Stiles was still stationed at the table. Relieved, you saw he’d indeed decided to follow you out of the library.

You turned back to grab your bag and head out, but were met with Stiles’ face mere inches from your own. You were startled, but he grabbed your waist before you could fall over. His hold was strong. Your hands instinctively went up to his chest, steadying yourself. Had he always been this tall? 

One of his hands wandered slightly lower, rubbing small circles on your lower back. Your eyes met his, which were just shining with mischief and an underlying sense of self-satisfaction. His tongue darted out, licking his lower lip. 

“Can I be frank? You’re incredibly annoying,” you stated, slinging your arms around his neck, finally giving in. 

“You can be whoever you want as long as I get to kiss you, Frank,” Stiles laughed. You groaned but pulled him close either way. 

“Shut up.” 

Stiles obliged and put his mouth to yours aggressively, tugging your body against his. One of his hands wandered up, cupping the back of your head to bring it closer. You tugged at the small locks at the back of his neck, eliciting a sighed moan from Stiles. 

“You’re so hot,” he confessed when you broke apart for a second. He turned you so you were pushed with your back against the bookcase, a few books falling to the floor. Neither of you cared as your kiss continued, deepening by the second. His hands held your hips as he started grinding against you, sweats low on his hips. His mouth made its way down your jaw, moving to suck hasty kisses on your neck. 

“Stiles…” you sighed blissfully. Heat gathered in your stomach at the soft, breathy noises coming from his lips combined with the sound of them against your skin. He put his knee between your thighs.

“Knew you wanted this as much as I did, fuck,” Stiles groaned. The pressure from his knee was delicious, but not enough. It was almost as if he could read your mind as he slid his hand into your bottoms, working your underwear out of the way somewhat clumsily. 

“God… so wet for me,” he moaned. You could only reply with breathy whimpers, trying to make as little noise as possible. Stiles shushed you, placing his unoccupied hand over your mouth as the other started rubbing small circles over your clit. You closed your eyes and let your head fall against the bookcase. Your knees went weak at the sensation, not much holding you up besides Stiles. 

He slipped his hand out of your underwear, bringing a finger up to his mouth. He casually licked it clean. He hooked his thumbs into your bottoms, seeking eye contact and asking for non-verbal permission to tug them down. You bit your lip and nodded enthusiastically. When your underwear hit the floor, so did Stiles’ knees. Your eyes darted around your environment, but the school was nearly empty at this time, especially the library. 

You had to slap your hand over your mouth when Stiles made contact with your clit, his tongue tentatively licking between your folds. Your breathing was laboured, chest heaving as Stiles took his time exploring. Your bottom lip found itself between your teeth, holding in your moans. Your hands shot to Stiles’ hair. Perfectly tuggable, indeed. 

He groaned when you gave an exceptionally sharp tug, taking the time to look you in the eyes. The vibrations of his lowered voice felt good. You had seemingly no control over your hands, fingers tightening their grip the closer you got to the edge. 

“Shit, baby… So good for me. Gotta stay quiet…” Stiles mumbled. A small, high pitched keen left your lips. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to keep the silence up. You looked down once more and saw Stiles palming himself over his sweats as he continued eating you out, rhythmically grinding his hips in time with his mouth. 

The sound of a bag zipper closing got your attention. You smacked Stiles’ shoulder to stop, wanting to whine in frustration at just how close you’d been. Stiles paid you no mind, lost in giving you pleasure. You put both your hands on his shoulders and pushed him away, careful not to tip him over. It was only then Stiles noticed the noise of someone packing up to leave. He scrambled to stand up, trying to help you get redressed. 

“I got it, I got it,” you hissed quietly. 

“Who’s there? You can’t be here anymore! Library’s about to close!” It was the librarian who’d shushed you earlier. You grabbed your bag in a hurry. 

“Would you still rather be hanging out with Isaac?” Stiles asked jokingly, wiping his chin. You whacked his arm, storming past him to the doors. He followed quickly, arm wandering over your shoulders as you walked out of the now deserted school. You didn’t speak as Stiles led you over to the Jeep, insisting on driving you home, at least. 

You sat in the passenger seat as Stiles ran around to the drivers’ side. You wiped your hands on your thighs, huffing a frustrated breath. You hadn’t even finished the paper, and now you got cock-blocked on top of it. So not worth it. You turned to Stiles as he put the keys in the ignition. He’d never looked hotter than that very second, lips bruised, hair tousled and still pent up, besides maybe when he looked up at you with his face buried between your legs. Okay so maybe a little worth it. 

“If you keep looking at me like that I’m gonna pull over and we’re gonna have sex in the back seat like right now,” Stiles joked. Or at least, you assumed it was a joke. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, threat or invitation?” 

“Option D? All of the above? I mean, D is definitely an option.”

“Pull over and we’ll see how much of an option it is.” 

Stiles didn’t need to be told twice, pulling over in a small clearing as soon as he saw the opportunity. He took off his seatbelt, scrambling to get out of the car. He opened the door for you, closing it and letting you in the back seat. You laid back across the seats and manoeuvred your top off, throwing it at Stiles. He caught it, quickly discarding it somewhere in the car. He shimmied his pants down his legs, not bothering to take off his shoes. You did the same, leaving you in your underwear. Stiles stopped to take a proper look. 

“You’re gonna kill me. You’ve already killed me and this is my pre-hell Heaven trailer of what could’ve been. God iwantyousobad.” You pulled him on top of you as you laughed. 

“Less talking, more fucking, yes?” 

“Yes, I agree. Wholeheartedly,” Stiles nodded furiously, tugging his shirt over his head with only one hand. Hot. He finally closed the car door behind him before he could forget. 

“I’m going to assume you don’t just casually keep condoms in your car?” You questioned. Stiles closed his eyes and tightened his lips in frustration, mentally scolding himself. He finally had you in his Jeep, half-naked, ready to fuck, and he didn’t have a freaking condom??? He finally shook his head no, sighing and pulling away from you slowly. 

You leaned up on your elbows and whispered in his ear. “Hmmm… Guess you’re just gonna have to come inside of me… Wouldn’t want to make a mess of the car…” 

Stiles pounced at that, kissing you like his life depended on it. He tugged your underwear back down your legs, now very familiar with your pelvic region. He struggled to undo your bra, cursing under his breath. You laughed and lended a hand, undoing it and slipping it off your shoulders. 

“Holy shit,” Stiles groaned. “Promise me to thank Coach for pairing us up.” 

“You did not just mention my uncle as a reaction to seeing me naked,” you complained. 

“I did. Not sorry. He did me a favour.” 

You ignored the comment and decided to kiss him to shut him back up. Him and his mouth… God his mouth. You were still pent up from the library, and if he didn’t fuck you soon you were pretty sure you’d go crazy. 

“Stiles, want you,” you whined impatiently. He was too busy paying attention to your nipples, taking one between his teeth as he made eye contact. “Shit,” you gasped.

Your hands wandered down his torso, stopping at the hem of his boxers. You tugged them down, setting his very hard cock free from its confinement. The tip was red, dribbling with pre-cum. He was obviously just as pent up as you felt. You gave him a few experimental tugs with your hand before lining him up with your entrance. 

Stiles took over, taking his time to slowly push inside you. You put your hands on his shoulders, holding your breath at the stretch. He was so much bigger than you’d expected. You both moaned when he bottomed out. You felt so full, it was insane. You dug your nails into his shoulders and gave him a nod, indicating he could move. 

He set a slow pace, testing the waters. He was enthralled by the jiggle of your tits with every movement. Typical. His hands moved up to hold them, almost as leverage, as he picked up his pace. 

“Fuck, so good,” Stiles moaned. You were about to move a hand down to touch yourself, but Stiles stopped you. 

“Let me make you feel good, let me make you come.” He put one hand on your shoulder to steady himself and brought the other down to where you were joined. He continued to thrust, putting his fingers on your clit. It took him a second, but he found a rhythm where he could thrust and stroke at the same time. 

“Oh my god, Stiles!” You moaned, the added sensation feeling amazing. The sound of his hips slapping against yours was filthy to say the least. You moved to hold onto something above your head as Stiles sped up. Your hands soon found the little ledge, and you gripped it to the best of your ability. 

Stiles bent down to kiss you, pace still unrelenting. The new angle of him bent forward sent his cock exactly where you needed it. 

“Shit, oh my god.” It was all the confirmation Stiles needed to keep it up. 

“So pretty, so tight around my cock. Such pretty tits. You feel so good,” he mumbled against your lips. 

The pace of his hips became more erratic, both of you nearing the edge. Your knuckles turned white with how tight you were gripping the car door. 

“Gonna come inside you,” Stiles moaned. “Fill you up so nice.” 

“Yes, Stiles, please!”  

“Fuck, so good, so good for me,” Stiles was becoming more talkative and less coherent as he lost himself in the pleasure. He was mouthing at your jawline, sucking another hickey where there were already plenty. 

“Fuck, Stiles, gonna come,” you whined. You could feel his smile against your neck. Smug idiot. He then started rubbing your clit exactly the way you liked it. Combined with him hitting that spot inside you over and over and over again, you were seeing stars. 

“Don’t stop, please,” another moan left your lips. 

“Come for me. Come on my cock. So pretty, so good,” Stiles blabbered. 

“Fuck! Stiles!” You keened, tightening around his dick as you came. He kissed you again as his hips stuttered, thrusting a few more times before painting your walls with his cum. His head fell on your chest as you both caught your breath.

When his breathing had slowed, he groaned before lifting himself off you, chuckling as he pecked both your nipples, then your lips before looking for something to clean you with. He settled on the shirt of his lacrosse uniform. 

“Ugh, gross,” you mumbled as he wiped you clean. Stiles shrugged. “It was going into the wash, anyway.” 

Stiles put his underwear and sweats back on, opening the door and getting out so you could have the space to redress yourself. When you reached under the seat for your bra, you pulled out a baseball bat. “Why do you have a baseball bat in your car?” 

“No… Particular reason. Safety. Lots of dangerous animals… out there.” 

“So you settled on a bat?” You wondered, holding the object. Stiles nodded, not meeting your eyes, his locked on your still naked chest. You threw the bat at him and laughed, reaching under the seat again and this time pulling out your bra. 

When you were finally dressed, you got back in the passenger seat so Stiles could drive you home. It wasn’t a long drive, as you’d already been halfway there before pulling over. He drove up the driveway, and you cringed on the inside, hoping your uncle wouldn’t see who dropped you off. You took your bag and got out of the car, walking around to the drivers’ side where Stiles was already leaning out the window. 

You looked at him and gave him a small smile. You leaned forward to give him a kiss goodbye. “You better email me your part of the paper tonight, Stilinski.” 

“You bet, babe,” he winked and gave you a salute, watching as you laughed and turned to walk inside the house. 

You closed the door and took off your shoes, hanging your coat and leaving your bag by the door. “I’m home!” 

Coach took one look at your appearance and frowned. Right… maybe you should’ve straightened yourself out before walking into the living room. Disheveled hair, hickeys on your neck, it wasn’t exactly rocket science as to why you were home later than usual. 

“If you’re gonna be having boys over, do it when I’m not around, please? I have enough of them to deal with at practice and in class. And at least have the decency to tell an uncle who he’s dealing with.” 

You cringed as the Jeep’s headlights very obviously flashed through the window at that very second, Stiles driving home. It was anything but unrecognizable. 

“Stilinski!? You’re sleeping with STILINSKI?! God, kill me now. If I’m now expected to have him over for Christmas dinner you better throw me off a bridge. And you BETTER use protection because I’m NOT gonna have Mini-linski’s running around.” 

[pirateprincessblog]

sannie, not mr choi (pt. 1)

⚜ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: choi san x f!reader ⚜ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: the tour is over, but san can't rest just yet. he is to attend a fashion show in another country. he is homesick, and tired. he misses his family, and his members, even though they just parted ways two days ago. still, his eyes can't help but catch someone who is having an equally hard time, if not harder. his sweet, lovely assistant. ⚜ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 22.3k ⚜ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: idol!san, personalassistant!reader, angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, heartbreak ⚜ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: just here to say that i'm a sucker for soft sannie. the reader isn't necessarily petite, choi san is simply that big. i spent forever editing, deleting, rewriting, proofreading. i am spent. if you see any typos, pls ignore <3 i'll eventually reread and convince myself that nobody saw anything if there is any embarrassing typos ⚜ 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲. ⚜ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞.

𓆩⟡𓆪

sore feet. swollen ankles. aching arms. dry mouth. eyelids that barely stay separated. little to no free time.

all those are consequences of your not-so-new position that kq has generously offered you. and you have accepted. being choi san's personal assistant had its perks, too. opportunities you could only ever dream of, such as visiting countries you always thought unreachable or expensive, meeting celebrities, even interacting with them, following san to his separate activities. each member had his own assistant. when you applied, you didn't care who you'd work for. you loved them all equally. after all, you have been a fan of theirs since debut.

they didn't need to know that, though. they would've never hired you, had they known that you were a faithful atiny. they wouldn't have believed you even if you swore that you were there to work only, not spy on them or anything similar. you would never do that. you guarded each information about them with your life, and took your job very seriously. being this close to them allowed you to admire them even more, see parts of them nobody else could. the pain, the suffering, the hard work, the love they share for each other, the quarrels, the playful moments. all of it. and you wouldn't do anything to sabotage that.

not even when you were informed that you weren't going back home as planned. choi san will need you with him at the milan fashion week after all. and you were no fool to decline.

even as you stand next to him, ready to exit the hotel, barely keeping your eyes open and your posture perfect.

"stay." he stops you by gently grabbing your elbow, pulling you back before you could step outside and be the first victim of the screams and flashing lights. "you will pass out."

"i'm fine, really." you force a smile. san looks at you, kind eyes filled with worry.

"don't lie to me, please." his voice is a mere whisper. "stay. you can join me at the after party."

you shake your head. you aren't leaving his side. not today. he will need all the support he can get, and even though you are having a hard time yourself, he isn't in any better condition. he misses home, undoubtedly. more than that, he misses sleep. "where you go, i go. i'm bound to you by contract, choi san. you cannot get rid of me just yet."

he chuckles, the sound dear to your heart.

"at least not for another six months, until it expires. or gets renewed, unlucky for you."

he delivers a playful pinch to your side, making you jump and yelp. you slap a hand over your mouth, mortified at the sudden attention that the entire floor of the hotel has given you. hurriedly, you exit the hotel, opening the door of the limousine and waiting for san to greet his fans. his figure is hugged by perfectly ironed black slacks, which you may or may not have almost forgotten to iron this morning, a loose black shirt, with one too many buttons left unbuttoned, and a necklace that sits on his tan chest. naked chest.

"you disapprove of my outfit?" he asks playfully, sipping on his champagne while the limousine smoothly glides over the busy streets of milan, waking each passerby's curiosity.

"not at all, mr choi." you reply equally playfully. you sit across him, maintaining your distance. "i think it's quite lovely. it will attract many fine ladies tonight."

he scoffs. "as if that's what i am looking for right now. oh, how i would kill for ten hours of sleep."

"two more days, mr choi. then, you'll be back home. you'll even miss all this, i assure you."

"i know i will." he sighs. "but right now, i'd rather miss my room and those chaotic idiots i call family."

𓆩⟡𓆪

surrounded by people, yet alone.

that is how you feel at almost every event that isn't a concert. all these people around you exude luxurious energy. the place reeks of expensive fragrances, and the red carpet is covered by all sorts of exquisite gowns. you feel like the odd one out, with your black suit pants and vest which san has picked for you.

"to match with me," he said. "it will look great."

and who were you to refuse him? after all, you were there to fulfill his wished and cater to his needs. free clothes were a bonus you didn't need, but also didn't mind. it is your first fashion show, and san knew that you were as nervous as him. worse, even.

"it will be over soon." he assured you, away from prying eyes. "we can sneak off the party earlier and go rest."

"you know, for people our age, it is a little weird that we aren't eagerly waiting for that after party to get wasted and brag about doing it with celebrities."

"i know, right?" the idol scoffs.

it is the last conversation you have before he gets pulled away into the crowd. his eyes don't leave yours, and a pout is evident on his lips. it is as if he is trying to ask you whether you'll be fine on your own. having no other choice, it doesn't even matter. it is not as if you can leave him here and go rest in your hotel room. you wish you could. he offered, but you'd feel guilty. behind the tough figure, choi san is a soft human. he is the epitome of the term gentle giant. you know that behind his offer he secretly wishes you don't leave him. moreover, he wishes you can follow him around. be in his pocket, he had once said.

your eyes lose his in the crowd, and suddenly, you feel alone. more alone than you've already felt since arriving. even though san is your boss, he is an idol to you first. your comfort person. he brought you peace, and he didn't even know it. you only wished you could do the same with him.

𓆩⟡𓆪

san stays at the after party.

you do not.

he has assured you that he will be fine and that he is perfectly capable of getting his own glass of water if needed. how that water turned into wine, you did not know. you saw the photos on social media. you'd recognize that flushed face from miles away.

as you sit outside on the hotel balcony of your room, with your gaze fixed on the clear night sky and a full moon, your phone vibrates on the glass table.

choi san: i know i told you to go

choi san: but iwas kinds hoping that you stayyed

choi san: am leavinthe place now, couldn't find youu

san seems to have developed a separation anxiety when it comes to you. even on your days off, the man blows up your phone with various messages and pictures, updating you on what he is doing and what you are missing. were he not an idol, and this your job, you would've mistaken it for something else.

your job as his personal assistant did not require you to follow him everywhere. choi san did. he simply needed to bring you along to the restaurant, to the convenience store, to the souvenir shop, to the café. you, and his bodyguard and manager. he would often complain, wishing to only be with you because he felt like he had more "freedom". the manager explained multiple times why it is a bad idea for a male idol to be seen with anyone who isn't a familiar staff member, especially in foreign cities. like paris.

choi san: aryou mad?????

choi san: :(

choi san: ok im ssorry

choi san: you're probbly asleep novv anyvvay

choi san: hey vvhere did the double v go?*

choi san: you knovv

choi san: the upside dovvn M??

choi san: englsh is funny..

choi san: i feel all fuzzy

choi san: i can't find the elevatr

choi san: ilostmybodyguardndmanger

choi san: maanagerr

choi san: icantseethespacebar

choi san: found                      it                               :D

choi san: i tripped on the stairs.

choi san: [image attached]

at the sight of his pouty face and slouched figure sitting on the hotel stairs, your fingers quickly tap the telephone icon in the corner of the screen. he doesn't pick up at first, and worry fills you. then, just as you reach the door to exit your room in search for him, he picks up.

"heya." he casually greets on the other side.

"mr choi." you sigh. "where are you?"

your heart races as someone knocks on your door, and luckily you stand right in front of it to take a peek of who it is. you see a single eye pressed against the peephole. an eye you'd recognize anywhere in the world. with your phone still in your hand, you open the door.

"hey, princess."

as much as the words make your head spin and your stomach fuzzy, you have to put a serious face on. "mr choi, we talked about this. you can't call me that."

"i can do whatever i want." he pouts. "i'm your boss."

"my tipsy boss." you correct. "come, i'll escort you to your room."

as you try passing him, he grabs you by your elbow once again, pressing you gently against the wall. air leaves your lungs. choi san dips his head towards yours so that he is at eye-level with you. "why do you wish to get rid of me so badly?"

"mr choi-"

"sannie."

"what?"

his bottom lip sticks out in a slight pout. such a big man, yet such a gentle heart. "not mr choi. sannie. call me sannie."

"no." you firmly decline. the last thing you need is to be heard by a staff member and get fired. not even san himself could prevent that happening. "i'll show you to your room."

"you're so mean to me." he whines, then enters your room.

"mr choi!" you whisper-yell, suddenly aware of the time. "get out of there, right now."

your words seem to go into one ear and out the other, as the man simply plops down on your bed. face buried into your pillows. the pillows where you just laid before getting bored and moving to the balcony.

a sigh leaves your lips, but you aren't defeated yet. you close the door for now, in case someone's curious eyes decide to wander. "mr choi."

"you're mean." he repeats, words muffled into the soft material. "you hate me."

"you're drunk."

suddenly, he raises his head, jaw dropped. "you aren't denying it. you do hate me!"

"oh for crying out loud." you throw your hands in the air, then make your way to the balcony doors and pull the curtains shut. his room and the managers room are directly in the opposite of yours, and one glance through the window might cost you your job. you then turn around, only to find him sitting with his back leaning against the headboard and arms crossed over his chest. his gaze is fixed on you, eyes squinted and lips pressed in a thin line. you can't help but roll your eyes. "i don't hate you, mr choi."

"lies."

"why are you making this difficult?" it is your turn to whine now. "i promise i don't hate you. you're the best boss in the whole world! now please, please, please let me escort you to your room."

for a moment, you think he will comply. he stands up. takes a few slow steps towards you. finally, you think. but then-

"why do you hate me when all i do is love you?"

-it feels as if all air has been sucked out of your lungs. your tongue is as dried up as a raisin, and a low murmur fills up your ears. san's gaze is intense, crushing your sanity and making the little professionalism that is left crumble beneath his posture. he almost hovers above you, and were someone to walk in, you're sure they wouldn't even see you from his broad shoulders and back. his hair is no longer neatly slicked back, instead disobedient and framing his face, the black complimenting his dark eyes. the eyes that do not flicker. do not blink. only stare at you, waiting for you to say something. anything. fuck.

"why do you keep pushing me away?" his voice is a mere whisper. soothing, not accusing. he wants a reason to be at peace with himself, not a reason to prove you wrong. "what have i done to you?"

"mr choi-" you manage to say. your voice is raspy, like you haven't drank anything for a long time. "you don't mean that. you won't even remember this in the morning."

"you can't call me by my name even when we are all alone?" he tilts his head, giving you sweet puppy eyes. "this isn't a test. i'm not testing your professionalism. i genuinely enjoy your company, i have for a long time now. fine, i might not love you... that was a bit strong. but i like you. i really do. i have feelings for you. i've had them for a while now."

you swallow a lump in your throat. god, you never thought that a confession from one of your favourite idols would hurt like this, if it ever happened. you're supposed to be over the roof, jumping on him, returning the feelings. instead, you gather the little sanity you have left and place your hand on his conveniently naked chest and gently push him away. why does he have to be so warm and inviting? "forced proximity."

"what?"

"forced proximity, mr choi." you repeat, doing your best to maintain eye contact. you need to be strong and firm. he cannot see any shift in emotion. san is observant, always has been. but right now, you can't let him know that pushing him away is hurting you as much as it is hurting him. "you don't like me. you just have the illusion of liking me."

"are you..." he scoffs, taking a step back before continuing, "are you saying i don't know my own feelings? that i am wrong?"

"what i'm saying is that after spending so much time with someone for so long, you are bound to develop a certain... how do i put this?" you sigh, placing your hands on your hips as you think. "delusion. or illusion. whichever you wish."

"you're calling me delusional?" san suddenly seems less tipsy. like this conversation has magically sobered him up. and angered him. "i cannot believe you."

"i'm not calling you delusional. i'm calling these... feelings, i guess, delusional. they don't exist. you might feel comfort, or some type of safety with me. but romantic feelings? think deep down, mr choi. why would you have feelings for me?"

when you said that, you didn't mean for him to actually start listing things. but he does. one by one, and he doesn't stop.

"you're so sweet, and caring. you wouldn't hurt an ant. i know because every time we walk, you tend to look on the ground and walk around ant hills, or any bugs that might be on the floor. you yelled at the manager for stepping on a snail the other day. you care for all members equally, which makes me insanely jealous, because you are my assistant, but i can't deny that it makes me equally happy and warm when i see you do that. you always ask me before creating my schedule, give me choices, even though you don't have to. you give me many days off, you tell the company off many times if you think they are being unfair, you never complain about the tasks you are given, you bring me things without me having to ask, you are here whenever i need you, and you respect my private time and my space. not once did i hear you complaining, not once did you refuse to do what you were told, not once did i see a frown on your face, other than when the management pisses you off. you are the prettiest thing i've ever seen, and just looking at you makes me feel well rested even though i haven't slept. your voice is something i'll never hear anywhere else again, and it's always in my head. when i read your messages, i hear you. when you're not beside me, i hear you. and i hate when you're not beside me. i want you with me all the time, i want you with me behind the cameras, behind the manager, behind the company. i want to take you to a café in paris if i want to. i want to take pictures with you on the bridge in amsterdam. i want to sit on the london eye with you. i want you to open up to me like i open up to you. i want to know what troubles you, not only what makes you happy. i want you to find comfort in me, as much as i find comfort in you. i. want. you."

san becomes blurry before your eyes. were it not for the lack of lights, he would've seen how hard you're trying to keep the tears from spilling. he is making it hard. so hard that you can almost hear your heart snap in half when the sentence leaves your lips. "that is just me doing my job, mr choi."

and you swear you hear his heart burst as well. pain. rejection. heartbreak. it swallows him whole. his figure shrinks, and his voice is small. barely audible. "what?"

"why..." you clear your throat, trying to get rid of the painful lump that is stuck inside it. "why else do you think i do all of it? it is my job. haven't you wondered why i never open up to you? why you only see me at my best? i cannot burden you. you are my boss. you cannot know these things about me. i am here to make your life easier, were it by bringing you a coffee or simply listening to you rant. what you feel for me might be simple fondness, one you might have for a friend. you notice these things because i am constantly by your side. you demand i be by your side. if i don't, you're all grumpy and a menace to the staff to the point that i have to show up whether or not the events have anything to do with me. you've developed separation anxiety, mr choi. you found comfort in me simply because i am the one by your side at all times. were it someone else instead of me, the story would be the same. in conclusion, forced proximity is the answer here. nothing more."

his words die in his mouth. his brows are furrowed. he is hurt. and angry. he has every right to be. you did this to him. you took a loving, kind man and destroyed him. and you'll never forgive yourself, ever. you'll see his face every night before falling asleep as guilt eats you whole.

but you'd feel even more guilty if you indulged. yes, your feelings for him do exist. but what you said isn't completely wrong. san might be under the impression that he likes you, even loves you. but san hasn't had much interaction with anyone else as much as with you. you cannot take his freedom away. he needs to meet other people, he can't settle for you. you wouldn't be the right match. it wouldn't be right in anyone's eyes. after all, you are a fan. he might not know it, or he does. either way, you'd feel weird. as if you took advantage of your position and hypnotized him into being with you. the rest of the fandom would find out eventually, and they wouldn't be kind. hell, they would show up with torches beneath your window, you're sure of it. and you'd maybe do the same, were you to find out that choi san is dating an atiny who just happened to get a job at his company and had the opportunity to work with him.

"okay." he simply says.

you don't respond. the weight of sadness on your chest is too heavy, as is the weight of his gaze.

"good night, miss y/n."

"good night, mr choi."

and suddenly, the words mr choi feel like poison on your tongue.

𓆩⟡𓆪

"you know how i never complain about my job?" you finally catch the manager alone in the hallway once you return to seoul. he is headed somewhere in a hurry, but it is the only chance you have to talk to him.

"no. what's that like?" he simply responds, eyes glued to his phone screen.

"funny. anyways, i don't know how to put this, so i'll just say it." you speed up your pace, only to stand in front of him to block his way and force him to listen to you. "i'd like to switch with jaz."

he almost bumps into you, not aware that you have planted yourself on the ground until you get what you want. "you want to switch? why?"

"i just think that it isn't a good idea to be with the same member for a long time. if you know what i mean."

you're playing a dirty game. and you hope jaz doesn't find out. "you mean... you think there's something going on between jaz and mingi?"

"i didn't say anything." and you wouldn't, usually. but it is the only excuse in your book. you cannot possibly tell him about san's confession. "i just think it would do us all good if we switched places. to avoid favoritism."

in truth, you cannot be near san. the trip back was painful enough, with san avoiding you like the plague. he refused to talk to anyone, really. but only you took it personal. because it was. he had only spared you a glance once you passed by his seat on the plane, and a worried one when one of the fansites almost tripped you. other than that, choi san has maintained his distance from you. it's for the best, anyway.

"you're right.i'll think about it, then text the new pairs in the group chat tonight."

"thank you, sihun. you're the best."

the manager simply rolls his eyes, then circles around you and continues his journey.

in the evening, you receive the long awaited message. you hadn't notified anyone, in case they decide to rebel and talk the manager into dropping the issue. this way it will already be decided, and they won't have any luck in changing his mind. when did you become so mean and selfish?

good evening, everyone.

it has come to my attention that a lot of you have become very comfortable with your idol, while some are still struggling to find a common language with theirs. thus, i have decided to reassign your positions in hopes of switching up the dynamics a little bit. the new pairs will be:

hongjoong and eric

seonghwa and jaz

yunho and gyuri

yeosang and y/n

san and melanie

mingi and thomas

wooyoung and hyori

jongho and sooe

no complaints, i don't want to hear it. this pairing will come into effect tomorrow. good luck.

the separate groupchat, without the manager, is flooded with texts. who ratted who out, plots of convincing the manager to change his mind, even going as far as convincing the members to say something. you occasionally respond with a witty or sarcastic message, trying to blend in and not seem suspicious. jaz and mingi would never forgive you if they knew.

𓆩⟡𓆪

kang yeosang is a sweetheart.

he is so sweet that it is painful. he feels almost fragile, and speaks so softly to you. he doesn't ask anything of you, even when you offer. yunho, mingi and him are the only ones in the practice room so far, aside from you and a few other staff members, preparing new moves for the choreography before others arrive. the rest had the privilege of sleeping in, putting all their trust in the three dancers of the group.

the boys haven't complained about the coupling so far, yunho and gyuri already bickering playfully like siblings and yeosang making small talk with you. mingi is in the corner with thomas as the assistant shows him something on the phone, but you notice how distant mingi looks. it's not like they won't see each other ever again. besides, it would've been too suspicious to ask to only switch you and san.

"i haven't had the chance to say this, or the guts, but i love your hair." yeosang catches you off guard. "it's so pretty."

the doors open, with san entering first. his smile drops from his lips as his eyes lock with you. you don't notice him yet, and it gives him a chance to collect himself. until his gaze lands on yeosang's fingers twirling with the ends of your hair. what the fuck?

"i want to do that for the comeback. talk my hairstylist into it, please?" his fingers smoothly run through the freshly dyed lock of hair. you're happy that it is obedient this morning and not a tangled and frizzy mess. "think i could pull it off?"

"of course you could. you're kang yeosang, you can pull anything off." you playfully nudge him with your elbow. "just don't do the hongjoong fireworks coconut cut, pretty please. that still haunts him. and us."

yeosang giggles, in his own cute yeosang way. he really isn't much different off cameras. "noted."

with that, his fingers slide from your hair, letting it fall and frame your face again. as you turn around, smile still on your face, you find yourself bumping into someone. "oh, sorr-"

firm hands hold onto your waist, steadying you. you don't expect it, especially since you weren't really about to lose your balance. as if this very person just wanted an excuse to put their hands on you. you look up, confused at first. and then, that lump in your throat. san's hands are stiff on your waist, afraid that you'll perish if he lets go of you. he gives you the softest expression you've ever seen, with dark glossy eyes hidden under half closed eyelids, relaxed brows and pretty lips. "gosh, you're so pretty."

words are caught in your throat. you look around, frantically. nobody hears him, you think. your hands find themselves once again planted on his chest, pushing him away. it's what you do best these days. "mr choi-"

"right, sorry." he clears his throat, and just like that, his expression shifts. no emotion is visible on his pretty face. at least not when he looks your way.

you don't get the chance to tell him that you have been separated. he walks over to yunho and mingi who are observing the video they took earlier of the new possible choreography.

"you know, i'm actually so happy i get to work with san. he was my first pick when we first got hired. but you stole him." the redhead, melanie, beams next to you. "oh, just look at him."

you don't want to. but you do anyway. to anyone else, san looks like he is immersed into the video. but you see the subtle glances he is stealing, trying to control himself but not being able to. even though you aren't standing close to each other, he suddenly feels suffocated. he can hear you, smell you, feel you. he walks over to the wall covered in mirrors, thinking that the further distance might help. but his eyes inevitably land on you through the mirror. and this time, you don't look away.

"he has gotten so big and muscular." melanie's commentary is golden as the two of you play an imaginary game of holding eye contact. as if the world will crumble if one of you looks away.

san does indeed look handsome today. he wears a black compression shirt and black sweatpants. his hair is a fluffy mess. he hates combing. even though his shirt is long sleeved, it is so tight that it hugs every curve and dip of his muscles, feeding you sights you are so privileged to see. were you an atiny still behind a fan account, you would've begged him to put you in a headlock. now? you have to force yourself to look away before you become a tomato on the spot.

"what's it like?" she pries. "working with him."

"it's..." everything. "okay, i guess. he's not mischievous, he listens to everything i say. he's nice."

"oh, i can't wait. how does he like his coffee? does he like sweet or savory? what's his favourite dish?"

throughout the dance practice, melanie talks your ear off. first with questions, then with shameless comments. at one point, you have to stop her. "you're not here as a fan. you can't say things like that. it's disrespectful."

"boo-hoo. miss perfect here can't handle a few comments." the redhead rolls her eyes. "they're grown men."

"okay." you give up. san will handle it. he has boundaries. one comment from her and she'll go straight back to her father who arranged this job for her.

"i'm craving an iced coffee..." yeosang approaches you, fidgeting with the rings on his fingers. who was the idol here again? "would you maybe mind going to the shop across the street and getting one for me? and whatever you wish for yourself, of course."

a black card is placed in your hand. "don't ask me these things, mr kang. just give me an order and i'll do it."

"i can't do that and you know it." he laughs shyly. "but please, would you? i would be grateful."

"of course, mr kang."

the boys are taking a break, and conveniently, san stands right next to the door. he eyes you as you approach him, biting the inside of his cheek. "where are you going?"

"to get yeo his coffee."

"yeo?" he scoffs. "his coffee? since when are you his assistant?"

"since last night." you simply reply.

he doesn't expect it. his brows seem to stay furrowed these days, you being the reason behind it. "what do you mean?"

"our positions were reassigned. i am no longer your personal assistant." you say it so nonchalantly. like you don't care. and you admire yourself for it. you didn't know you had it in you.

"you're lying." his demeanor switches from tough to disappointed, with his arms no longer crossed over his chest but hanging on the sides of his body. "tell me you're lying."

"why would i lie about something like that?" you don't allow him to continue interrogating you, instead exiting the practice room.

he follows, ignoring the calls behind him. "wait!"

"mr choi, i have been given a task. please let me do my job."

"oh, so he's yeo, but i'm mr choi." bitterness is evident in his voice. "you're so- so-"

"what am i, mr choi?"

"mean." he finishes. he looks frustrated with himself. could he not have found a better word?

"i think i heard that one before from you, mr choi. do you wish for anything from the shop?"

"you know what?" he clenches his fists. he stands silent for a while, eyes roaming your face for any indication that you might be simply teasing him and that this is all just a harmless joke. but you don't budge. you look at him, yet it feels like you are looking through him. you don't care. this truly is just a job to you. "i'm glad we switched. at least melanie won't hurt me like you did."

the words make your blood boil. suddenly, you don't feel bad. "excuse me?"

"i poured my heart out to you, and you-"

"do not fucking guilt trip me." you raise your voice. a light gasp leaves his lips, and his fists unclench. he takes a step back as you approach him angrily, finger pointing into his chest, threatening to stab him. "i do not owe you anything. your feelings are not my problem. i meant what i said, every single word of it. this is just a job. you are just my boss. i am here to collect my paycheck and leave. i do not wish to arrive at work and have to deal with this. get your shit together and stop this madness before you get us in trouble for nothing."

your words strike him like an arrow through a heart. a poison arrow. you've never spoken to anyone this way. not even the management. this is a new side of you he is meeting, and he is a fool for falling even deeper for you. "look me in the eyes and tell me there wasn't a single moment when you looked at me and wished for something more than just a business relationship. that there wasn't a moment where you felt so comfortable with me that you wanted it to last forever."

anger overshadows your usual kindness and thinking process. you approach him, unintentionally causing him to further step back and collide with the wall. the height difference is comical, and were it not a serious situation, one of you would've surely made a witty comment about it. to anyone standing aside, it would've been weird seeing someone like choi san get cornered by someone smaller than him. luckily, you are alone in the hallway, and it is now your turn to pour your heart out.

the tip of your nail is buried in his chest, causing him to stiffen and not move a muscle against the cold wall. you look him straight in the eyes as your teeth bite and abuse the inside of your cheek before speaking. "there wasn't a single moment where i looked at you as anything more than my disobedient and spoiled boss."

"you're lying."

"i'm not."

"you are. i don't believe you." he isn't sure who he is trying to convince with his words. you, or himself?

"i am not lying."

"you'll have to do better than that to convince me."

"i will not prove my non existent feelings to you. are you out of your mind?" you are in disbelief.

"you're just saying that because you don't want to lose your job." he argues further. "i'm not insane."

"there wasn't a single moment where i felt anything romantic for you."

"lies."

"i swear to-"

"you're telling me that all those times when i'd accidentally touch you and you'd blush furiously were nothing?"

"stop."

"all those times when i'd lend you my coat because you keep losing your jackets and i'd catch you secretly sniffing it or hugging it after you're done wearing it?"

"stop."

"all those times you stayed up late to talk to me was just work to you? who does that? you could've chosen not to respond. those aren't your working hours. instead, you were always online, whenever i'd send you anything. and don't tell me it's just because you were doing your job. i don't know how much my boss would have to pay me for me to listen to him talk for two hours straight about things that don't even make sense in the middle of the night. no sane person would indulge in the things you did, for a paycheck, and-"

"san."

and that's all it takes for him to stop. his name dripping honey from your lips, but with a bitter aftertaste. he hates that this is the only moment where you have called him by his first name. "yes?"

"leave me alone." you finally say. "we can remain professional, as we were until you ruined it. or..."

as much as he doesn't want to ask, deathly afraid of the answer, the words still see the light of the day. "or...?"

"or i'll leave. and you'll never see me again."

𓆩⟡𓆪

business dinners aren't unusual for the kq company. business banquets that include the staff? a little.

the company is celebrating its anniversary, and has decided to invite all its artists and staff. all those who make this company still stand. you feel proud for being a part from that.

yeosang has forwarded you the digital invitation, and you glance at it once again as you get ready, just in case you missed anything or misread. the dress code is a simple black tie. initially, you weren't taking this seriously. until the private group chat was flooded with images of various gowns, suits and accessories. suddenly, your pants and blazer seemed like sweats compared to what they were wearing. thus, here you stand in an off shoulder black gown with a leg slit in front of your mirror, retouching your makeup. the corset is tight around your waist and ribs, but the rest of the dress falls comfortably and rests against your body. with san, you always opted for pants, jumpsuits, vests. you can't remember when you wore a dress. mostly because you always deemed it impractical for work.

you haven't heard from san for two months now. you see him in hallways, at shows and social media. yeosang doesn't drag you along with him wherever he goes. he values your free time and doesn't like to bother you. deep inside, you miss being tugged all ways at once. it made you feel like you were important and capable. yeosang has given you a vacation, it seems.

the red lipstick is wiped for the third time tonight, making your lips irritated and swollen. it doesn't look right. but you don't have time to reapply or find a new shade, hearing the ride honk just below your window. the five minutes of going down the stairs in your heels, with your hands holding your gown so that you don't trip, feel like a fairytale. it dies once you see the manager in the fancy car, already moody.

"do i want to know?" you roll your eyes as you sit and fasten your seatbelt.

"we asked for artificial flowers. they delivered live ones, thinking that we were picking the cheaper option and they're doing us a favour. in their minds, it was a thoughtful gift. it's-"

"-a disaster." you finish for him. melanie and jaz look confused in the back. you don't. you know exactly why this is an issue. "poor san."

before the redhead can ask, the engine starts, and the manager speeds up so that you can arrive on time. you'd be lying if you said that you weren't bothered by her touchy relationship with san. she always has her hands on him, but in a way that nobody can tell her anything about it, not even san. his hair always needs fixing, his collar straightening, his tie or buttons adjusting. and he doesn't complain. you hate how jealous it makes you. you almost regret your secret meddling in the new pair ups.

the mansion is located just outside of seoul, on a hill overlooking the city and surrounded by a forest. the banquet hall is breathtaking. the first thing you notice is the strong scent of jasmine and honeysuckle. then, endless tables of sweets. cakes, dessert cups, chocolate fondue, cookies, fruit, and whatnot. the colours are inviting, a contrast to the black and white attire that the personnel is rocking. everybody looks breathtaking. you dare say that even the ceo looks handsome tonight.

the seats are assigned, of course. the personal assistants sit at the same table, not in a bad spot. you have clear view of the empty space in the middle of the hall. for dancing, you assume.

"girl, where is your lipstick?" sooe raises her eyebrow.

even if you had it to begin with, it would've been gone with the cake in your stomach right now. "the shade was so ugly that i simply decided not to wear one. red doesn't suit me."

"no, orange doesn't suit you." gyuri corrects. "you haven't tried proper red. here."

she hands you a lipstick. dior, of course. your essence lipstick can't compete with that. "i'm okay-"

"it would be a crime to wear a dress like that and not to have red lipstick on." eric comments, eyes not leaving his plate of food. "this cheesecake is heaven. i won't even need dinner."

a sneeze grabs your attention. nobody pays attention to it but you. you wouldn't either, if you didn't know who it belonged to. before he can spot you, or vice versa, you almost run from the table under the excuse that you're going to apply the lipstick.

the ladies room is empty besides you and another member of staff, who is fixing her hair in the mirror. she smiles as a greeting. relief washes over your body, happy that she isn't one of those your group calls "the bully crew". those are people who have been here since day one, and are impossible to work with. always mean, bitter and judgmental. then they say that the younger generations are rude.

the girl soon finishes, and just before exiting, throws a compliment your way. "you have a very pretty neck."

"that's so random." you laugh. "but thank you."

"maybe it's the dress, but really, i mean it. it's weird to me too, i- oops, sorry. i was just on my way out." before you have the chance to find out what interrupted her, another sneeze echoes through the hallway and the ladies room.

the hand that holds the lipstick stiffens. through the mirror, you can see into the hallway that leads both into the men's room and the women's room. the girl scurries past him, leaving you without finishing her sentence. the person she bumped into starts walking, and you know he has to pass by the open doors of the room in order to reach his destination. like a coward, you hide in one of the stalls. then, familiar voices.

"did you see her anywhere?"

"keep your voice down." you recognize seonghwa. "we just got here. you need to calm down."

san sneezes again, then whines. "i'm going to die here tonight. i won't even see her."

"you're so dramatic. how did she put up with you for so long?" you can almost feel the older man roll his eyes.

"whatever. can't believe yeosang snatched her away from me."

you can almost feel seonghwa roll his eyes. you do, as well. "he didn't snatch her. nobody knew that they would switch us."

"yeah, right. i still want to know why he was touching her."

"her hair, san. i keep hearing this story once a week, and frankly, i'm tired of it. she's not gonna forbid him to approach her."

"you don't get it..." san mumbles.

their voices echo even when they enter the men's room, due to non existent doors. you should use the chance and run away. but your feet stay planted on the ground, and you even put the toilet lid down so you can sit. you might be here for a while, even after they leave. you need time to collect yourself. going back to the table with cheeks flushed and tears in your eyes is not an option.

you miss him. the whole situation seems like a breakup, like san is your ex boyfriend and you both desperately wish to get back together, but you know you can't. it wouldn't work. you hate yourself for thinking that way. all those months of holding back, and now you allow yourself to feel vulnerable after successfully pushing him away.

"melanie is getting on my nerves."

you can't help the snort that leaves you, and you slap your palm over your mouth. seonghwa chuckles. "she's enjoying her new position, isn't she?"

"a bit too much." san's voice is horse, and he sounds congested. "i caught her taking pictures of me in the dressing room the other day. i'm too tired to do anything about it, really."

"san, that's serious." seonghwa's tone changes, as does your expression. he better be joking. "you have to report that to-"

"i really don't have the energy to deal with that. you know her father will convince the management to make her stay."

silence envelops the place for a few moments. you hear soft sniffles, then water running. this might be the moment when you should start meddling. san won't do anything about it, and it will make melanie think that she can get away with it. she won't stop there, you know it. you heard all sorts of comments and fantasies out of her shameless mouth. were you a hypocrite? perhaps. the difference being that you viewed san as a kind, loving person who, if not an idol, would be your dream partner. melanie viewed san as something that you can't describe respectfully even if you tried. she wanted him physically. and she is working on it, she proudly announces it every now and then. nobody in the group bats an eye except you, but you don't say anything. she has already called you out, accusing you that since you were no longer his personal assistant that you had no right to say or do anything that includes him.

this is too far. she is out of her mind. you're sure you'd feel the same disgust and need to meddle if it were another member. this type of behaviour is getting out of control, and you might have to do a little more yelling for the management to wake up and start protecting its artists.

"anyway..." he trails. "i'm going back. do i look less pathetic?"

"no." seonghwa replies. "you look like a dumpling. these allergies have no mercy on you."

san sighs, defeated. "well. this is the best i can do. let's hope i don't see her at all, for her sake."

it should surprise you that san still speaks about you. more than that, it should surprise you that seonghwa knows about it as well. he doesn't scold him. if seonghwa had no problem with it, why did you create one?

"i'll see you there. i'm just going to wash my hands." the older man announces.

you hear footsteps, then water running again. you finally step out of the stall, gently closing the door after you. hurriedly, you rummage through your clutch, and soon enough, you find what you're looking for. you hear footsteps again, except this time, you don't hide. "mr park?"

seonghwa turns around, surprised. he wears simple black slacks, and a black, slightly sheer button up. just his style. "hi, love."

"could you..." you approach him with the item that you dug out, holding it out for him to take. "give this to him?"

the man takes the small bottle of nose drops, then smiles. "you still look out for him."

he doesn't mention anything about you eavesdropping. he's as nosy as you, and you both know it. many times you've found yourselves accidentally looking each others way every time something happened or you'd hear something. and each time you both had to fight yourselves as to not burst out laughing.

"i just had them with me, really." you shake your head. "i don't ever empty my bags. just store things in them until they refuse to close. that has been sitting in there for a while."

"right." he allows you to think you can fool him. "should i say they're from you?"

you shrug. "i can say no. but you'll still tell him, won't you?"

"and you mean to convince us that you aren't an atiny. you know us better than anyone else, and you've been here the shortest amount of time." his hand finds its place on the top of your head, giving you a few pats and a playful hair ruffle, before retreating. "do you need anyone to talk to?"

"no." you quickly reply, flustered. "and i'm- i'm not an-"

"you're not." he nods. "it's our little secret. it has been since the day you walked in and were the only one who didn't want to choose between us."

there goes your meddling. "thanks."

seonghwa then greets you with a smile, and finally exits to find san. the lipstick is applied with shaky hands, and loose hair strands successfully tamed. by the time you get back to the table, the ceo has already stood up to give a speech. luckily, the table is tucked in the corner of the room, saving you from embarrassment of being the only one standing.

as the ceo starts, your eyes wander over the tables. it isn't difficult to find them, their table is at the front, along with the xikers one. san sits with his back facing the room. you wonder if seonghwa has given him the drops already, and if he feels a bit better. it doesn't even matter if he knows who they're from. he can guess, anyway.

the speech is wrapped up, with gratitudes towards the staff, from the older ones to the recently joined ones. "you all make kq, not only the artists." he finishes.

half your table is gone, and you would've stayed sat, were it not for jaz dragging you along to dance with her. your plate of food will have to wait. jaz looks the most stunning tonight. the white dress looks gorgeous on her dark skin, and her usually slicked back hair is replaced by luscious curls that fall over her shoulders and down her back. you feel so basic and underdressed just standing next to her.

"i'm gonna need you to cover for me." she whispers into your ear when a dance move brings her close to you. "mingi wants to use the fact that everybody is here so that we can have some peaceful time alone."

you can't say no. not after you were the one who separated them. "of course. i'll figure something out."

"thank you!" she hugs you tightly. "if you need anything ever, don't hesitate to ask."

there are all sorts of things you need. none of those can be helped by jaz. unless she is a sorceress who can erase your feelings for someone. "i'll keep that in mind."

once jaz successfully slips away, with mingi following soon after, you start feeling tired. it is past eleven, and you don't even realize how long you've been dancing. gyuri and thomas retreat to the table where melanie and sooe haven't moved, and eric is enjoying his third piece of cheesecake and fourth éclair.

"you know that there is a bunch of steaks right in front of you?" thomas playfully smacks the back of his head. "y/n, do you want one?"

"no, thanks." you aren't hungry. not when you see melanie eyeing someone up in the crowd behind you. "i'm going to get some fresh air, maybe when i get back."

you don't know where you are going. the place isn't that big for you to get lost, so you take your time exploring. no balconies so far, and the porch is occupied by smokers. you find a staircase, and that feeling of the fairytale is back again as you take the gown in your hands and start walking. the stairs lead you to a rooftop. you wonder why the event wasn't taking place here. it is as big as the hall, and instead of the dancefloor, there is a pool. the view is breathtaking, with minimal light pollution allowing the stars to glimmer above the still alive city of seoul. the city never sleeps, and is beautiful at any time of day. it's so easy to forget where you are, having to spend all your time inside or wherever your job requires you to go.

the door closes behind you, and you can't help the quiet groan that leaves your lips. you really needed a few minutes to yourself.

"oh, sorry. didn't realize someone was here."

out of all people.

"i just came to catch some fresh air, i'll be gone soon. please don't mind me."

does he not realize who you are? or has he finally come to terms with everything? "don't worry, mr choi. i'm leaving anyway."

when you turn around, you don't know who looks more in awe. more pathetic, better said. his jaw hangs as his eyes roam your figure. you know you aren't masking your expression, because choi san looks absolutely dashing. he wears a white button up, black slacks, a black vest and a tie. you know he dressed himself up because his tie hangs poorly around his neck. melanie must've tried fixing it, she had to. he didn't allow it.

"i don't think i've ever seen you in a dress." he breathes out. such a privilege to have an idol breathless because of your appearance. "you look beautiful."

"thank you. you look handsome as well, mr choi."

he doesn't complain about you calling him so. instead, he walks over, slow and careful. as if he'll scare you away if he moves any faster. he joins you by the fence, and soon enough, his scent envelops you. "i often forget how beautiful seoul is."

you hum, nodding your head.

"enjoying the party?"

"i'm up here. what do you think?"

a soft chuckle meets your ears. you miss hearing that. you allow yourselves a few moments of comfortable silence. nothing but the sound of the leaves rustling in the gentle summer breeze, distant sound of the city, and an occasional cricket. san is leaning on the fence with his arms covering the railing, and his chin resting on top. you, on the other hand, stand still with your palms gripping the same railing. your eyes betray you many times, choosing to glance his way more often than you'd like. he has his eyes closed as he breeze caresses his cheeks and moves the loose strands of his slicked back hair. he looks content.

"you smell cozy." he mumbles, eyes still closed. "like a vanilla candle."

it is your turn to chuckle. "your sinuses cleared up?"

and just like that, you betray yourself. the smirk on his lips is all you need to see. "so it was you."

"guilty." you turn around, leaning your back and elbows against the fence. you tilt your head back, exposing your neck and chest to the breeze. it helps cool you down. "i'm glad you feel better."

you hear him shuffle, before he opens his stupid mouth again. "you don't know how breathtaking you look."

tilting your head to the side, you can't help but glare at him. he is still in the same position, only now his cheek lays on the arms that cover the railing, using them like a pillow as he looks at you. he has never looked more soft and vulnerable.

"you're a dream."

"is this how it will go?" your voice is equally quiet. you don't get angry at him. you aren't irritated. you can't be, not when he looks at you like that. "you'll keep confessing, and we'll avoid each other for a while until you confess again the first chance you get?"

"i'm not confessing. i'm just stating facts. you look gorgeous. any sane man would see and say that if they were here instead of me." he then stands up straight, hands fixing his vest and tie. "i guess i'm just the lucky one. conveniently."

for a moment, you think he is going back to the party downstairs. but he simply plops on one of the deck chairs by the pool. he doesn't invite you over, but you still join him. you opt to sit on it sideways so you can face him. the pool water and the lights in it illuminate his slightly puffy face and rosy eyes. the moments when you hate flowers have become less rare since you started working for him. right now, you despise them.

"i was hoping you were right." his gaze is fixed on the water. "forced proximity. i prayed you were right. but i've seen you for five minutes tonight, and all i want to do is fall on my knees for you. beg you to give me a chance. to show you how good it can be, and how nobody can harm you in any way. to show you what it's like to be mine."

you stay silent. surprisingly, you don't feel annoyed with him anymore. you let him speak.

"i can't believe i ever doubted my feelings. i wanted to, for your sake. because you want nothing to do with me." your heart tightens. "you've made it clear multiple times, and i was trying to decide what you feel for you." the familiar lump in your throat appears. "i called you a liar, and accused you of breaking my heart, when you've rejected me so gently once. i was trying to make you doubt your own feelings." and your eyes sting.

"why are we back on page one?" your voice is hoarse.

san doesn't look at you yet. and it bothers you. "this might be the wine speaking out of me."

"you know you can't drink." you gently scold him.

"i didn't know what to do with myself. i was overwhelmed by everything. knowing that you are in the room but i can't see you. hearing you, smelling you. god, that scent. like the coziest warmest autumn evening. but you were still far from my eyes." the man says. he tilts his head back, resting it against the backrest. "then, i find you here. i told myself i wouldn't put you in an uncomfortable situation. and look what i'm doing."

you try swallowing, hoping to make the lump go away. but it stays stubborn. "it's okay. we're just talking. you're not doing anything to make me uncomfortable."

he closes his eyes again, this time enjoying the sound of the water and your scent that envelops him, even when there's a distance between you. it gives you time to admire him some more. you watch his chest rise and fall peacefully, and when your eyes land on the stupid tie, you can't help yourself. you stand up, walking over to him and sitting on the edge of the deck chair where he rests. he flinches, eyes shooting open. "what are you-"

"shh." you hush him. you've never been so close to him before. your body is pressed against his side as you lean over him, fingers working on loosening the tie so that you can do it properly. you pretend you don't feel his gaze on you. like you don't see his hand twitching, yearning to touch you. "i've spoiled you. you can't even tie your own tie."

he doesn't laugh. he simply gawks at you while you work on the piece of fabric. if he knew that that's all it takes to bring you closer to him, he would've worn his shirt and pants inside out. then, you flinch. your breath stops, as do your fingers. choi san cups your cheek, thumb brushing the corner of your lips. "it's obvious that you never wear red lipstick."

he moves his hand sooner than you'd like. the tip of his thumb is red, and before you can offer him a handkerchief, he brings it to his lips. the action is intimate, and your lips are on fire. you wish you'd smeared it a bit more. your eyes stay locked for a worrying amount of time. but san doesn't move. he doesn't lean in. he doesn't say anything.

you do. you find yourself in a trance, consumed by his scent and very being, and you lean in. slow and unsure at first. then, you feel yourself sliding off the chair. san's hand grabs your waist before you can fall, pulling you back on the chair and on top of his body. you don't resist. his eyes flutter shut first. it's now or never.

you close the gap, inch by inch, until the tip of your nose brushes against his. it's pure torture on both ends. your brain and heart are fighting a battle inside you, and san knows it. it's why he isn't making any moves besides holding your body secure so that you don't fall. he lets you set the pace. his warm breath caresses your lips. you can't help the painful exhale of desperation that leaves you, right before tears swell in your eyes.

"i can't." you quietly cry out. "i'm sorry."

san doesn't have time to process the situation. you are already standing, quickly tapping the corners of your eyes with your fingers and throwing your head back before the tears ruin your makeup. a scoff of disbelief leaves his lips. "why are you doing this to yourself? to me?"

"i'm not doing anything. it is wrong." your voice shakes. "i just- i drank some wine too and-"

"why are you denying yourself happiness?" he stands up as well and approaches you. you take a step back, just in case. you can't be tempted again. this was too dangerous. "why are you hurting both of us like this?"

"look, i'm tipsy. i don't want to do something that will give you hopes when i've told you many times that-"

"so what, you're telling me you go around kissing guys when you're tipsy? that i'm not special?" you know he isn't hurt, because he knows it isn't true. he is just trying to lure the truth out of you by making you angry. "do you do this with yeosang as well?"

"shut up." you sniffle. "don't even."

"talk to me. why is the idea of us so horrible to you?" his words are firm, but his tone gentle. he approaches you, and you can't help but step back, feeling overwhelmed. "you don't even need this job. you could do anything you want, i'd be your biggest supporter. you could quit, and-"

"it's not that simple!"

san is blurry before your eyes, just like the first night he confessed. this time, however, there isn't a wall to stop you from walking behind. but there is a pool.

your next step has your foot hanging in the air for a split second, right before a gasp leaves your mouth and you reach for san. your hand slips through his, and soon enough, your body is swallowed by cold water. san wastes no time in jumping after you. before you can sink any lower, his hands plant themselves on your waist, pulling your body against his as he swims to the surface. you didn't expect the pool to be so deep.

while you are busy coughing water and gasping for air, san has swam over to the edge of the pool where the water is a bit more shallow. his voice is nothing but a hum in your ears as you try to recover. your body trembles against his. from the cold water, and from shock. it's just water. but you never learned how to swim. each attempt resulted in you having a panic attack and ruining the fun for everyone else.

"princess." his voice finally reaches your ears. "i've got you."

"san," you cry out. he hushes you, simply hugging you closer and resting your head into the crook of his neck.

"it's okay. i'm right here." he hates that he breaks the boundary by kissing the top of your head. but it is his way of comforting, and he doesn't think in the moment. "i'm so sorry."

his drenched shirt is scrunched between your fingers, but he couldn't care less. he's glad you aren't running away from him after falling in because of him. "please don't let go."

"i won't, but we need to get you out of the water." he gently tucks his fingers under your chin, lifting your head so that he can look you in the eyes reassuringly. panic sets in, and you start trembling more.

"no, no!" you pull on his shirt, latching yourself onto him. "don't let go, please don't let go. please, please, please, please-"

"princess," he cups your cheek with one hand. "i'm right here. i won't let go of you. can you trust me?"

"no."

san knows you don't mean that you can't trust him. you aren't ready to move, and he understands. he tucks your head back into the crook of his neck, and leans against the pool wall for support. he gently sways you in the water, eyes fixed in the way your hair and gown move under the gentle current of the pool springs.

time stops. it feels so natural, being this close to him. his hand rubs your back in an attempt to warm you up in the cold water. he hushes your quiet whimpers, lips brushing against your ear shell. "i've got you."

"don't let go."

"i won't. i promise." the man assures.

you don't know how long you stay like that. all you know is that san has managed to calm you down and is pulling you out of the water. even though it's summer, you are still shivering. san's brows are furrowed, worry painting his pretty features.

"my phone is drenched, it won't turn on. can you stay here while i go get seonghwa?" he crouches in front of you while you sit on the chair, his vest that he managed to discard before jumping covering your upper body. "i'll be right back."

"okay."

seonghwa doesn't judge. he doesn't have sarcastic remarks. he doesn't scold.

hongjoong does. as if you weren't overwhelmed already, hongjoong has decided that scolding and yelling inside the car was the best thing to do right now.

"let me just make this clear: i'm not mad at her, i'm mad at you." he looks at san through the rearview mirror.

you have sunken into the car seats in the back, wrapped in san's vest and seonghwa's coat. even though hongjoong's words aren't meant for you, you can't help the new wave of tears that coat your cheeks. you have trouble breathing again.

seonghwa notices you detaching again, a new panic attack threatening to pull you into its void. "joong."

"what? i'm tired of him, seriously. why doesn't mingi have any problems? i never had to interfere with him and jaz and save their asses. they're careful, and-"

"joong."

your breathing quickens. san doesn't notice, even though he sits in the back with you. he is busy fighting with hongjoong. the situation you were scared of happening is unfolding right now, and nothing happened between san and you. you have already gotten him into trouble. fingers reach for the button on the car door in an attempt to open the window. once it does, you stick your head out, then try breathing.

"why are you being such a jackass about it? it was an accident! you think i wanted to push her?"

"do you think i care? it's not about tonight only, san. it's about you for the past few months. you aren't subtle at all!"

"guys," seonghwa says a bit louder, eyes switching from the road to the rearview mirror every now and then.

"and just what have i been doing for the past few months that you think you have the right to be yelling at me right now?"

"having to explain why you keep dragging her everywhere, having to convince the manager to even let you do that, going to such lengths to delete videos and pictures of you gawking at her, getting dispatch off our asses-"

"and doing all that for mingi wasn't an issue? for me it was?"

"i didn't have to do it for mingi! he was careful!"

"ENOUGH!"

the car stops abruptly on the side of the road. seonghwa exits, rushing over to your side and opening the door. you fall into his arms, a sobbing mess once again, struggling to catch your breath.

"it's okay." he pulls you into a hug.

"i'm sorry." you feel pathetic. it's all you can say. "i'm so sorry. it's all my fault."

"it's not your fault. hongjoong and san are just being pricks right now." the older man pats your head. "do you want to go home or would you like to stay with us?"

"my home, please?"

"you got it." he helps you sit comfortably again, then fastens your seatbelt for you.

the rest of the ride is quiet, with san fidgeting with the ends of the sleeves on seonghwa's coat that shields and warms your wet body, quietly telling you that he is here.

when you wake up, it is still dark. you rub the sleepiness out of your eyes, and meet san's focused face. he carries you in his arms, going from door to door trying to figure out where you live. once he finds your last name, he struggles fitting the key in the keyhole.

"let me." you whisper. "put me down."

once your feet touch the ground, you need a moment to steady yourself. your apartment is just as you left it: a mess as you tried to get ready for the event. you are grateful that the darkness has swallowed it. san doesn't need to know how messy you are outside of work, where you are always organized and tidy.

"uh... do you want slippers?" you point towards a spare pair of slippers that are only used by your family when they visit. "i mean... if you want to stay for a while. or do you have to go back immediately?"

san looks at the slippers, then at you. "do you want me to stay?"

"please." your voice is so low, that if san wasn't so focused on you, he wouldn't have heard it.

"i'll just text hwa. my phone came to life."

you nod. "i'll uh... go put on some tea, i guess. what's the time?"

"does it matter? if you crave tea, i'll make it for you." he simply replies, eyes glued to his phone as he types a message.

now that you look back at your time working with him, san had moments where he loved acting as your boyfriend. you simply didn't allow yourself those delusions. you ignored them. but san loved buying you things, making you try various food and drinks, took pictures of you, gave you his jacket even when you really didn't need it. the response came so naturally from him, as if he usually makes you tea whenever you crave it.

"well?" his full attention is back on you as soon as his phone is tucked in his back pocket. "what does your heart desire?"

"honestly? i'd kill for a cup of cocoa."

your answer makes san chuckle fondly. he makes his way to your kitchen, as if he knew the place by heart. you're grateful that you've decided to wash the dishes today. you have a habit of hoarding dishes before making yourself wash them. you'll do all chores without a problem, from vacuuming to washing the windows. but dishes? you hate yourself for it. it is such a simple task, really. but your brain makes it hard for some reason.

san rummages through your cupboard, not bothering to ask where anything is. he finds the cocoa powder, then the milk in the fridge. "how chocolaty?"

"i trust you."

the clock shows a little past one after midnight. it is monday, and the boys have a day off. still, you can't help but feel bad for causing a mess and ruining their sleep schedule. while san busies himself with making two cups of cocoa, you quickly text seonghwa.

y/n: i'm so sorry for tonight. please tell mr kim that it is all my fault, that mr choi had nothing to do with it. i'm truly sorry for putting you in those positions. i promise i'll do everything to fix it and assure that it never happens again. again, i am so sorry.

park seonghwa: don't be silly. hongjoong was just being an ass. between you and me, he might've been a bit tipsy. plus, eden is on his back about the comeback. he was just unleashing himself on innocent people. don't burden your little head with it.

y/n: i can't help but feel guilty. no matter what i do, i'm messing mr choi up. i've distanced myself from him in an attempt to fix this, but it's only getting worse.

park seonghwa: san is already messed up on his own, even without you. he's been a menace before you came along, don't worry. he just became worse when you arrived. the two of you should take your time to figure out exactly how you feel. i won't say what i know, or how much i know, but i'll give you one advice: talk. don't hold back. that's the only way you'll resolve this.

y/n: thank you, mr park

park seonghwa: you know, it feels weird having an atiny call me that. you are the only one still calling us that in private among the assistants, and you technically know us longest and best. think you can work on that? :)

y/n: i'll try :)

park seonghwa: yay! now go before he gets all pissy and pouty again. warm yourself up, we don't want you catching a cold. good night, tiny ♥

y/n: good night, seonghwa. ♥

you sigh with content. one thing at a time.

"where's your bathroom?" san asks as he pours the hot cocoa in two cups.

"first door on the left."

he comes back with a towel and clothes. was he in this apartment before, but you weren't aware? how did he find your pajamas?

"here," he hands you the clothes, then turns back to stirring the cocoa.

the drenched gown is replaced by a cozy t-shirt and sleep shorts. you don't pay much attention to what you are wearing, until san looks over and chuckles. "what?"

"ateez world tour." he reads out loud.

you look down, and right across your chest, the words he just said. that bastard. "you did this on purpose."

"i promise, i didn't. it was folded inside out and just laid on your chair on top of a pile of other clothes. i thought it was a normal black t-shirt. the pile waiting to be ironed, i assume?"

right, aside from washing dishes, you hated ironing clothes as well. you can't be bothered to pick up the gown, instead pushing it with your foot to the corner. seonghwa's coat and san's vest are neatly folded and placed in the laundry basket.

"come here." he calls you over.

your bare feet tap against the cold parquet floor as you walk over. at no point this evening did you know what san was about to do next, and neither do you know now. he picks you up by your waist, placing you on the kitchen counter. the towel is soon in his hands, drying your wet locks of hair. he stands between your legs like it's nothing. like you do it every day. like all of this didn't happen because you refuse to say your true feelings out loud.

"i can hear you thinking," he whispers.

"i got it." you snatch the towel from his hand, a little harsher than you wanted. he frowns, but lets you have it. "thanks."

you stay sat on the counter, swinging your legs in the air as you watch him focus on the cups. as if he was making the world's most complicated cocoa, using a dozen ingredients instead of two.

"what now?" you dare ask.

"now..." he sighs. "we drink cocoa."

"you know what i mean." you accept the cup from his hands, and your fingers inevitably brush against his. your skin is on fire, and god, it takes everything in you not to drop that cup and pull him close to you. "are we going to act like this is normal? my boss in my apartment at this hour, while i sit here in my sleepwear?"

"you keep worrying your pretty head with stupid things." san takes a sip of his beverage. he hums, then takes another one. "you were right. cocoa is much better than tea."

"san."

pretty eyes finally lock with yours. his brows relax, and his face softens under your gaze. "yes?"

"you need to put yourself in my shoes. i can't help but feel like i'm taking advantage of you. i'm a fan. a staff."

"so?"

"the fandom will be against it. the company as well."

"and why do you care about their opinion when the only one that should matter is ours?" it feels like he is scolding you. you know he isn't. he is just getting annoyed at the situation both of you are in. "this could be the best thing that can happen to us."

after a moment of silent thinking, you sigh. "i have to sleep on it."

you don't ask san to stay. he doesn't offer to leave. he just takes his place on the couch once he tucks you in your own bed, but not without making a witty comment about the photocard holder and his photocard that lay on the nightstand next to the bed. "you're so cute it hurts. want me to sign it?"

"go away." you bury your head in the pillow. "and leave the door open. i don't like being in the dark, and the street lights have been broken for a while now. leave the bathroom light on, and don't close that door neither."

with each moment that passes, san keeps finding out more things about you. things so unimportant that everyone would forget after a moment or two, but he remembers. it makes him fall for you harder and harder. right now, you are impossibly cute, confessing that you are scared of dark. "i'll be on the couch. if you need anything, don't hesitate to wake me up."

"okay. thank you." your voice is muffled by the pillow. you hear him chuckle, then feel his hand pat your head playfully. "good night, princess."

"good night."

the second time you open your eyes, it is light. for a split second. then, booming thunder. it's been a while since a thunderstorm this strong has hit the city. overcoming your fear of it for a split second, you run over to the windows where the curtains move from the strong wind. the wind makes it hard, pushing the window against you as you try your hardest to shut it. the shuffling and grunting must've awoken san, because soon enough, he gently nudges you aside and closes the window with little to no effort. the room lights up once again, causing you to flinch and cover your ears. your heart beats loud while you await the loud noise to echo in the room.

once it passes, san takes your hands in his, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs on your knuckles. "want to-?"

"will you sleep in here tonight?" you beat him to it. you don't know where you're getting the confidence, or the audacity. you're doing everything contrary to what your previous self wanted and worked hard to maintain.

a few months ago, you were going crazy because san laid on your bed for a few minutes back in milan. now, it is happening again. he tries to cover you with the blanket once he lays down, only to find you completely submerged from head to toe in it. "hey, where did you go?"

"i'm scared. leave me be."

"is this how you sleep when there's a thunderstorm? with your little head hiding under the blankets? suffocating?"

"san..." you whine, begging him to stop teasing you.

you forget how to breathe for a moment when the blanket lifts and san dives in below, joining you. "my name sounds so pretty from your lips."

"i didn't invite you here to flirt." you scold, gently poking his chest with your finger. "if both of us are here under, who is keeping watch out there?"

"my photocard." he laughs.

a gasp of disbelief escapes your mouth. he'll never let go of this. "one more word and you're losing blanket shield privilege."

"is that so?" he cocks an eyebrow. his hand then sneakily finds its way to your waist, only to poke you and make you jolt. his other hand joins, poking at the other side, until you are a laughing and screaming mess and the blanket slips from both of you.

he's strong, and doesn't budge, no matter how hard you fight back. his figure covers your entire body as he hovers above you, pinning your wrists above your head with a single hand while his other hand shows no mercy by tickling you. "stop, please!"

"say i have blanket privilege."

"you have blanket privilege!"

"now say i'm your favourite boss." he halts for a moment, giving you the chance to say it.

you don't, instead sticking your tongue out in an attempt to further annoy him. it works, an exaggerated gasp leaving his lips. you use the chance to slip one of your hands out of his grip, poking his side. he yelps, then falls on the bed next to you. soon enough you find yourself on top of him, giving him a taste of his own medicine.

san is incredibly strong. you've witnessed many situations since you worked here, from carrying two members on his back to picking up his makeup stylist's desk all by himself and moving it where she wanted. he has more strength in his pinky finger than you have in your whole body. yet he still lets you pin his hands above his head, your smaller hand struggling to grasp his wrists. he plays along. he lets you have it.

he isn't that ticklish. but you are too proud and excited that you've managed to tackle him that you don't even notice. your giggles are everything san wants to hear for the rest of his life. your fingers poke at his sides, over and over, and you are so into it. then, a grunt.

you stop, confused. san doesn't say anything. he simply stares at you, soft eyes admiring your features in the dark. it is only when his gaze drops to where you're sitting that you realise. you don't speak. you don't breathe, either. suddenly, you feel him. below layers of clothes, his body burns hot. as does yours, especially your face and core.

when light illuminates the room for a moment again, you flinch a little, but the clear sight below you makes you forget about your fear. san looks... submissive. his hands stay pinned above his head, and you remember that your loose grip is nothing compared to what he can do. his hair falls over his pretty eyes, which stare back at you through half closed eyelids. lips sticking in a natural pout, plump  and inviting. oh, so inviting.

"sannie," you test the waters with a low whisper.

a whimper. a fucking whimpers leaves this man's lips. he doesn't seem to be embarrassed. instead, he gulps, and bites his lip. you roll your hips, so lightly and slowly, not even sure that he'll feel it. but he does. and he shudders. it makes your body feel as if it's on fire. you've never had an effect on someone like this. and you're enjoying every bit of it.

san craves your attention. your validation. he always has. you've just been connecting it to his teasing nature. didn't really take him seriously. now, you have him wrapped around your finger. and you don't know what to do with it. a whole man, many girls crush and fantasy, lays down at your mercy. and you? you move the hair out of his eyes, press your lips against his forehead, and cup his cheek. "one thing at a time."

𓆩⟡𓆪

monday morning comes and goes, with you waking up alone in bed. the storm has calmed at some point during the night, but you didn't feel or hear anything. except the pair of arms that have held you through it all. you didn't push him away. you've worked for him long enough to know that san needs to hold onto something to fall asleep. it wasn't on purpose. he fell asleep before you, and at some point, he let go of the pillow he was hugging and replaced it with you.

san respects your boundaries. sure, you might need to tell him once or twice to stop calling you nicknames or move his hand from your lower back, but other than that, san tries his hardest to keep his hands to himself. you wonder if it's like that with melanie. if enough time passes, will san prove you wrong or right? will he start developing feelings for her? is forced proximity truly the answer?

selfishly, you hope it isn't.

your phone rings early in the evening, the manager's name glaring at you from the screen. you groan out loud. this is your day off. but then again, being yeosang's assistant has given you many days off. you can take this phone call.

"yes, sihun?"

"pack your stuff, you're flying early tomorrow. yeosang has been invited to a fashion show in two days, and because you have decided it would be a good idea to mess up perfectly good pair ups that have functioned from the beginning, the schedules are all fucked up."

"wait, what?" you find yourself standing up from the couch. you swear you can still smell him on it. "also, that was an idea. don't blame me as if you were forced."

"not only was yeosang's invitation to the paris fashion show lost, we also missed an opportunity to collab with a huge western artist. does the name megan the stallion ring any bells? plus, yunho was offered a role in a drama, and-"

"why are you blaming me for all this?" your heart beats fast, threatening to jump out of your chest. "what kind of organization did you have in the first place that a minor change like switching assistants costed you lost invitations and collabs?"

"if you want to return from paris as yeosang's assistant, or just an employee of the kq entertainment, i would recommend to zip it and start packing. five o'clock sharp in front of the building, not a minute late. if you're late, don't bother to show up. at all, ever."

"but-"

"five am, y/n."

and as if that wasn't enough to ruin your evening of rewatching the walking dead and stuffing your face with pringles, a single message causes you to sit back down on the couch.

choi san: you requested to switch? wish i'd known sooner, i wouldn't have wasted both our time. didn't realize you'd go to such lenghts, but then again, i really must be that annoying and can't take a hint. i apologize for crossing the boundary last night. rest assured, it won't happen again.

y/n: it's not like that !message failed to send!

y/n: san? !message failed to send!

this user has blocked you.

you're about to find out whether or not you were right, after all. far from eyes, far from mind.

𓆩⟡𓆪

yeosang wearing prada and sitting front row on a fashion show, looking ethereal and socializing with those around him is all the fandom ever wanted. you proudly watch from the side, and every now and then, yeosang's eyes widen slightly as they frantically search for you. you are being pushed around by photographers, and can't stand still in one place. when he finally finds you, you can see relief wash over his pretty features. you nod assuringly, urging him to talk to the celebrities around him.

if you thought san needed reassuring and validation, yeosang needed it times two. his english skills have improved in the short time you have been working for him, but you are the only person he could practice with. now, surrounded by only english speakers, and without your poor and broken korean to help, yeosang felt like he was thrown in shark water without a way out. you can see panic set in his eyes whenever someone speaks too fast or when he forgets a word.

but all is gone as soon as he locks eyes with you. you are his life jacket, his boat in this situation, and he is holding onto you for dear life as doja cat and zendaya keep talking to him and over him. at one point, yeosang leans back so that the two can speak comfortably, and they waste no time in leaning over him and continuing the conversation. he gives you a funny look, and you can't help the giggle that leaves your mouth.

yeosang doesn't stay at the after party. as soon as everyone has finished taking pictures with him, and before an interviewer can get his hands on him, yeosang disappears into the crowd and finds you. "take me away."

once back at the hotel, he insists that you join him for a late dinner. you hesitate before walking into his hotel room. strangely, you don't feel weird for sitting on his bed and eating with him at this hour, all alone with him. perhaps because you don't harbor the same feelings towards him as you do for san. yeosang is sweet. he isn't a tease, he doesn't make you question your sanity and make you roll your eyes hundred times a day.

"how's the pasta?" he asks, glancing over at your plate of truffle pasta. "any good?"

"it's great." you nod. "how's your steak?"

he doesn't respond, instead nodding with his mouth full. he takes a sip of whiskey from his nightstand, then wastes no time in stuffing his mouth again. you can't help but laugh fondly.

"didn't take you for a whiskey kind of guy." you confess.

"what kind of guy did you take me for?" the man raises his eyebrow playfully.

you hum at first, as if thinking. yeosang cuts his steak in peace, until your answer causes him to stop and gasp dramatically. "honestly? a banana milk kind of guy."

"you take that back." he threatens with his fork. "it's strawberry milk. don't disrespect me."

you enjoy this playful banter. no pressure, no expectations. just the tiredness and tipsiness talking out of both of you. you try the whiskey, he tries the leftover pasta. eventually, half the bottle of whiskey is gone. you didn't think you'd enjoy it that much. yeosang wasn't of any help. moreover, he encouraged you to drink.

now you struggle to move from the comfortable bed you're sat on, even after the man plops on it and closes his eyes, muttering a good night.

"you can't go to sleep with your makeup on."

"watch me." he simply covers himself up to his neck.

your words have no effect on him. they simply enter one ear and exit out the other. frankly, you're not sure they even get to his ear. it feels like they're bouncing off it and hitting you back in the face. in just a few moments, you raid the hotel bathroom in search of wet wipes and any kind of face serum he has brought along. it didn't help that he had a whole line of skincare on the counter. you don't know those things. he'll survive one night without it.

the moment the wet wipe touches his cheek, yeosang's eyes shoot open.

"that's cold." he frowns.

"yeah, well, suck it up."

yeosang's gaze is so much different than san's. san is intense, and dark. yeosang's is curious, and sweet. brown orbs glimmer as he follows your hand movements that reveal his face bit by bit. by the time you have wiped almost everything off, yeosang is wide awake. a light shudder leaves his lips when your fingers brush the wipe over his birthmark.

"there it is." you smile as you reveal it. "pretty."

the man blushes furiously. you think it's the alcohol. he hopes you don't know it's something else.

"close your eyes. you have a bit of eyeshadow left."

you don't need to tell him twice. he makes your job so much easier that you could just kiss him on the head sometimes.

"warning, this is also going to be cold."

you've done this countless times with san. but the moment your fingers touch his skin directly, your heart skips a beat. this isn't casual. not with yeosang. you try not to notice the way his eyes stare at you as your fingers rub the serum on his glass skin. the way he grips the cover. the way he slightly squirms under it. the way he gulps whenever your fingers touch the area around his birthmark.

"almost done," you whisper as your hand moves onto the space between his eyebrows and his forehead. it seems to be another sweet spot of his, because he almost purrs when your fingers gently rub the serum into his skin. you don't want to stop. not when he closes his eyes and hums contently while you do something as simple as putting a product on him, something that he does himself every day.

"no wonder san is in love with you."

you freeze. fuck, does everyone know?

"a person just puts their walls down around you and trusts you completely." he rambles on. "your mere presence is very comforting. i hate that he got to you first."

"okay." you sigh. the wipes are thrown into the small bin near the nightstand, and you have to walk a few steps around the room before you can speak. your thoughts are scattered, and at this point, you might have to ask yeosang to slap you to make sure this is not one of your daydreaming shifts when you used to work at the coffee shop. "let's pause. just for a moment."

"oh, i'm sorry." the man sits up straight, rubbing his eyes. "i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. i just mean that... a person can trust you easily. honestly, since you started working with me, i've stopped using my brain."

"yeosang." you sigh once again.

wide curious eyes look at you, and the words stop in your throat. is it possible that the forced proximity was an issue on your end? this is surely the alcohol. and the way yeosang is starting to act exactly like san. maybe you have a type.

no. what you have is a serious case of delusion. you need a vacation as soon as your feet touch korean soil.

you turn the lamp near the bed off, ensure that yeosang has a glass of fresh water in case he wakes up during the night, and prepare his outfit for tomorrow on the armchair. he only watches, not uttering a word. it isn't until you reach the door and light switch that you hear shuffling, and you turn your head to see him laying back down.

"good night, mr kang."

you miss the pout on his lips once the main light is off, but not the quiet "good night, tiny" before exiting and heading for your room.

𓆩⟡𓆪

your paid time off is approved within a day. manager sihun agrees that you need time away, but for different reasons. you're offended.

"it feels like your quality of work has declined."

you have to hide your snarky remarks. if that is what gets you time off, then let him have it.

in no time you find yourself sipping a freshly squeezed lemonade on your balcony. a book in your hand, fresh out of the shower, hair drying in the sun, with the whole day ahead of you. until your work phone vibrates on the table. you ignore it. you don't know why you even brought it out there in the first place. a habit, maybe.

the page of the book is barely flipped before the phone vibrates again. and again. and again.

"are you serious right now?" you groan.

park seonghwa: hey :)

park seonghwa: can i call you?

park seonghwa: oh wait

park seonghwa: you're on you time off?

park seonghwa: imsosorrypleaseforgivemejustignoremekbyehavefunonyourtimeoffdontmissustoomuch<3

y/n: it's fine, mr park. how can i help you?

park seonghwa: hi!

park seonghwa: oh :(

park seonghwa: mr park?

y/n: is something wrong? are you understaffed?

the dancing dots appear in the corner of the screen near seonghwa's profile picture. then, they disappear. and reappear. and disappear once again.

y/n: mr park, may i know wh|

your typing is interrupted by his name taking up the screen. with a sigh, you press the green icon.

"mr park?"

"first of all, i don't like that." he complains on the other side. "yeosang broke you."

"i assure you, mr kang had nothing to do with anything." you can't help the eye roll. "may i know-"

your words are cut short once again by a voice in the background, then a crash. "san, you absolute moron. i am so sorry, ma'am. we'll pay for that and clean up the mess."

you stay silent, eavesdropping the conversation. seonghwa's voice turns into an angry whisper, but the phone is close enough for you to hear everything.

"pull yourself together. there's six cameras on you, and you're drunk from half a cup of beer?"

"i'm not drunk."

"you're getting there. in the middle of namhae, in broad daylight, fooling around with that gopro and breaking stuff. what else do you call that? you're lucky the staff are busy cleaning what you just did and their attention is off you. i'm calling y/n, just so you know."

"i don't care."

"you don't care? alright. hello, y/n?"

"give me that."

"yes, he's being a pain in the ass. can you come over?"

"give me that!"

"what's that? you'll be here in fifteen? great."

"park seonghwa, give me that phone!"

"too late. she hung up."

you hear complaining and whining, then shuffling. he must've exited the room they were in, because seonghwa is back on the phone.

"i just wanted you to hear how miserable and pain in the ass he is."

"with all due respect, what does that have to do with me?"

"i'll send you a video. i want you to watch it, then come to whatever conclusion you want. i'm not forcing you to do anything, nor am i guilt tripping you. i'd just hate to see two people suffer a heartbreak they don't need. it's all up to you."

once the call ends, you feel as if your head will burst. you selfishly wish seonghwa hadn't reached out to you. just when you got san out of your head. you can't have one day of peace at this job you used to love.

the promised video plays on your screen, showing san in the back of a car and seonghwa next to him. the older man holds the phone so that san doesn't know he is being filmed. the familiar pout is present on the younger ones lips as he looks out the window, arms crossed over his chest.

"sannie, you're sulking again." seonghwa teases.

"leave me be."

"we're filming content for the fans. will you be like this the whole day?"

when san turns his head towards seonghwa, and the camera, you don't expect his eyes to be red and glossy. then, with the tiniest voice ever, he mumbles. "i miss her."

"i know." seonghwa sighs. "but you drove her away. you blocked her number without giving her a chance to explain."

"i know i'm stupid. you don't have to say it." his fingers play with the buttons of his shirt. you can't help but thank seonghwa for giving you the first peek at san dressed in a white shirt and black slacks, sleeves rolled up with his forearms out for everyone to enjoy. "she hates me."

"she doesn't hate you."

"you don't know that. for all we know, she thinks that you hate her."

san turns his head to look at seonghwa abruptly, then starts shaking it. "no. it's not like that."

"well, if i was her, that's the impression i'd get."

"i could never hate her. she could break my heart over and over, and i still wouldn't find it in those broken bits to hate her. she's all i think about. i thought the distance would do us well. it's killing me, especially seeing her near yeosang. or anyone that isn't me. do you know that i haven't washed or used my coat that she wore in amsterdam when it was cold? it still smells like her."

"loser." seonghwa tries to lighten up the situation by pinching his thigh.

"ow! stop it." san isn't having it. "i genuinely miss her. i'm so close to showing up at her door and falling to my knees, i swear."

he then returns to silence and turns his head back towards the window. the video ends with seonghwa smiling at the camera.

choi san will be the death of you.

𓆩⟡𓆪

the week passes fast. you'd wake up in the morning, one past noon being morning to you, rot your brain on social media, and before you knew it, the sun was down and you were transferring yourself from the couch on the bed. your diet consisted of shin noodles and a single boiled egg, paired with unnatural amounts of red bull (i just had to describe myself i'm so sorry <3). luckily, you didn't have any pets. you wouldn't have the energy to walk them or take care of them.

seonghwa's phone call ruined your plans. you wanted to spend the week reading all those books you've purchased and never have time to read, go for morning walks, maybe even go to a spa. but every time you closed your eyes, you saw san.

you saw his hurt face the first time you've rejected him. you saw his pout. you saw his glossy eyes. you heard his voice.

your last day was no different. kuromi pajamas, mouthful of noodles, the new season of your favourite show playing in the background while you mindlessly scroll on tiktok. until the doorbell interrupts you.

when you look through the peephole, you don't see anybody. an empty hallway. just a glimpse of somebody running downstairs. you shouldn't open it. everything about it screams danger. but you do anyway, sticking your head out first. step by step, you make it to the railing, and then lean over it in hopes of catching the person that just interrupted your last night of so called selfcare. he wears a hood, but something in the way he walks is familiar to you.

"hey!" you call out.

the person stops. the hallway lights illuminate the rings on his finger, one of them especially familiar to you. you bought it on your trip to italy, and gave it to none other than choi san for his birthday.

"mr choi." disappointment is evident in your voice. "will you please come back so we can discuss your need to ding-dong-ditch me?"

you can see his figure slouch. slowly, as if he'll scare you if he moves any faster, he makes his way back up the stairs and stops at the top. he doesn't raise his head to look at you yet. not when you step away from the railing, and not when you stand in front of him. only when your hand finds its spot under his chin and raises his head, his eyes find yours. he wears glasses. they give him the nerdy boyfriend image.

"what are you doing with yourself, mr choi?"

"what..." his voice comes out hoarse, and he clears his throat before continuing. "what do you mean?"

your hand leaves him sooner than both of you would like. you step back, then answer. "i mean, what are you doing chasing a fan? a staff member? while your phone is bursting with messages from the most drop dead gorgeous and talented idols."

"you don't know anything." he simply replies.

he doesn't move. you do. you walk back into your apartment, leaving the door open. you only spare him a glance over your shoulder; a silent invitation. he takes it. closing the door behind him, taking off his shoes and placing them neatly on the shoe rack, wearing the slippers he claimed last time. it all felt natural. you felt natural.

"red bull?" you offer.

he can't help the quiet chuckle when he sees your head in the fridge. "no, thank you."

"hmph," you purse your lips. "i've got cola, melon milkis, a week old carton of orange juice, chocolate milk, and two bottles of soju: peach and strawberry. you pick."

"a glass of water is fine."

"boring." you say.

he knows you are joking. still, he rolls his eyes playfully and joins you in the kitchen. "i'll have a red bull, then."

"which one?"

"what do you mean which one? there's more than- oh. okay." you open the fridge door fully and step away, revealing the colorful collection to a surprised san. "you little addict."

"says the man who lives off lays and milkis." you bite back.

"alright. give me the green one."

"which green one?"

"there's two?"

"duh." you say, rolling your eyes. "the light green and dark green."

"i trust you."

in a few minutes, san and you are settled on the balcony couch, sipping the energy drinks and looking at the busy streets below. the couch is big enough for three people to sit comfortably, yet san has squeezed himself in the corner. you sit on it sideways, facing him. it doesn't seem as if he thought any of this through. he came here on impulse, you know it. you know him.

"how's working with yeosang?" he fidgets with the can.

"that's what you came to talk about?" you tilt your head to the side so that it leans against the backrest.

"no." he mumbles.

"you didn't answer my question, san." his name out of your lips has him perk up. "what are you doing chasing after a fan?"

"i'm not chasing after a fan. i'm chasing after my personal assistant. well, ex personal assistant."

"does that sound better in your mind?"

he opts for silence again. you're making it difficult, yet he is willing to try, again and again. he wouldn't have come here for no reason. the man takes another sip of his can, as to avoid talking. your can is downed already, and your lips and throat feel dry. you leave the balcony just to get the two bottles of soju, then plop back on the sofa.

"here." you set the bottles on the table, allowing him to choose. he abandons the can of red bull and reaches for the peach soju.

"i thought i wasn't allowed to drink." he says, then brings the beverage to his lips.

"take small sips, san. we've got time. unless you have somewhere to be?"

he shakes his head. "no. even if i did, i would've cancelled."

"if you say so." you take a sip of the alcoholic beverage, and san mimics you.

his gaze is locked on the city through the glass balcony, and his face is still covered by his hoodie. in an attempt to relax his stiff posture and nervous fidgeting of hands, you sprawl out your legs and rest your feet on his lap. instead of relaxing, san further stiffens, the soju bottle in his hand stuck in a deathly grip. you try to pull them back to yourself, seeing that you've caused further discomfort. yet san's hand simply finds its spot on your legs, thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin where your pajama bottoms have hiked up.

"sannie." you call softly.

you swear you hear a shuddered breath. his head leans on the backrest, and he tilts it sideways so that he can look at you. he scrunches his nose so that his glasses sit better. "hm?"

"talk to me." you urge him. "say what's on your mind. you didn't come here to ask me about yeosang. or to sit in silence."

he hums again. "the silence was comforting. but no, it's not what i came for. though, now that i think about it, i think i did enough talking. i came to hear what you have to say. if you have anything to say."

"you were honest with me up until now. and i appreciate that." you start. it is your turn to pour your heart out. "and it is only fair that i do the same. but i think it would be more interesting to lead this conversation with questions."

"like twenty-one questions?" he immediately gets it.

"right. i'll give you a head start. you can ask me three questions."

"one is enough. as you said, we have time." he doesn't take long to figure out what he wants to ask you. words smoothly slip out of his mouth. "have you slept on it? 

"and why do you care about their opinion when the only one that should matter is ours?" it feels like he is scolding you. you know he isn't. he is just getting annoyed at the situation both of you are in. "this could be the best thing that can happen to us."

after a moment of silent thinking, you sigh. "i have to sleep on it."

right. you left him without an answer. technically, he left himself without an answer. "i didn't get enough sleep to decide."

he laughs. "meanie."

"my turn, then. since you don't want the head start." you take a sip while you think. the gentle touch on your legs is a distraction. for a man so big and tough, choi san has the softest hands in the world. "when did you realize your... feelings for me?"

it feels odd. feelings for you. choi san has feelings for you. such feelings that he keeps coming back, no matter how many times you reject him. if you were him, you'd hate yourself. yet san looks at you with such fondness in his eyes, that for the first time in a while since you parted ways with him, you find yourself looking away and blushing furiously. only he has the power to make you feel small, yet safe.

"well?" you clear your throat.

"it started in london. when i begged you to join me on a secret mission to five guys in the middle of the night, and you came with me. after that we went for a walk because i overate. i think the exact moment i felt something fuzzy in my stomach was when i plopped on the bench and held onto my stomach, and you had the time of your life giggling and taking photos. i realized then that i loved that side of you, and that i might be falling for you. then, i was sure when we went to amsterdam, and you were so excited to go for a walk and buy souvenirs that you forgot your jacket at the hotel. i lent you my coat, and when i saw it on you, i knew that i wanted you to keep borrowing my clothes."

you remember seonghwa's video where san confessed he hasn't washed or used that coat since you did. you look his way again, only to find his eyes still fixed on you. he examines your face in search of any negative emotion. but you only smile at him, causing him to breathe out in relief.

"my turn. did you really mean what you said back in milan? when i first confessed to you?"

"it's hard to explain." you sigh. "just because i was doing my job, doesn't mean i didn't enjoy it."

"so i'm not a spoiled and disobedient boss?" he presses in a teasing voice.

"not all the time. and that's two questions, sir. now i get to ask two." you dig your heel into his thigh as a way to punish him, and he returns the action by pinching your calf. "ow!"

"you're being mean again." he pouts.

"only for you." the alcohol is starting to get to you, because in no way would sober you wink at san and continue the conversation like it's nothing. like you don't see him blushing and looking away, a smile dancing on his lips. "you bring out the worst in me, it seems."

"so it's my fault." he laughs. "go on, then. ask."

"hmm..." you trail, thinking. "you've gotten plenty of confessions from many idols. how come i am the one that peaked the interest of the choi san?"

"first of all, the choi san? i'm not that special."

"yes, you are. you have millions falling on their knees for you. you're one of the most popular and influential idols right now. so many rookies look up to you, want to be you. sometimes it seems like you aren't aware of your popularity. guys want to be you, or be with you, girls as well. and-"

"second of all," he interrupts you, not believing a single word out of your mouth, "all those confessions don't mean much to me. i don't feel any connection to those people, and honestly, i don't want to waste my time to find out whether or not i'll feel any. i like to live in my own bubble, with the guys and our staff. it's familiar. it's cozy."

right, you forgot his introverted side for a moment. "still. as a long time fan of many groups in the industry, i've never seen idols as pretty as the ones in this generation."

"no amount of beauty will make a true man swoon if their personality is a zero. only those who are shallow won't look past a face."

"so you settled for me because i'm a little ugly but have a personality?"

you expected him to laugh with you. it was funny in your head. but the man simply looks at you, brows furrowed. your laughter dies out. you just had to ruin it.

"sorry." you mumble.

"don't ever say that again." he doesn't scold you. he isn't angry. he is disappointed. "i can't believe you would ever think of yourself like that."

"it was just a silly joke."

"i don't like it. it breaks my heart." his voice is quiet. "i have- actually, never mind. my turn, was it?"

"you have...? you have what?" you set the bottle down and sit up straight, legs still on his lap. "choi san don't leave me hanging."

"it's stupid. if i show you, i might as well just jump from here to save myself from humiliation."

"okay, now i need to know. you can't just say that and then move on." he avoids your pleading eyes.

you pull your legs away from him, and before he can protest, you get on your knees, still on the couch, and clasp your hands. he knows he's weak. yet he still looks at you, and he wants to smack himself from the way his bottoms feel tight after seeing you on your knees with big pleading eyes. "you'll think i'm weird."

"i won't! i promise. please, please, pretty please?"

and just how can he say no to you? hesitantly, he reaches for his pocket. he pulls out a wallet, and you're confused at first. until he pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to you. "i'll see myself out."

"you're not going anywhere." you plant your palm on his chest, pushing him back to lay against the couch. you turn the paper over, and your breathing stops. it's a polaroid from back in paris. you remember snapping pictures of him and the manager as a joke. you remember the manager doing the same to you. you thought the pictures turned out bad, you didn't even want to look at them. your outfit was a mess, your hair as well, and you had a chocolate stain on the dress you wore. none of it was visible on the photo. just san and you, acting silly in front of the eiffel tower, smiling wide. sihun was only taking pictures of you, yet san managed to smoothly photobomb and earned himself the cherished polaroid. "san..."

"i know. it's weird. i'm sorry."

it wasn't weird. unexpected? sure. you weren't even aware that you had a picture with san. that day was very difficult for you; you had forgotten to pack san's famous leather vest for the show, you spilled coffee on two of your outfits, and the chocolate from the croissant dripped on your third one. the wind kept tangling your hair, and you dropped your stone magnet as soon as you stepped foot out of the shop and broke it. what was a disastrous day for you was a memorable day for san, it seems.

"oh, san." you become all giddy and soft at the thought of him carrying the photo in his wallet.   "you were just carrying this around all this time?"

"...no?" his pretty eyes lock with yours, the city lights making them glimmer.

he expects you to call him weird. to slap him. to tear the photo. what he doesn't expect is for you to bring the polaroid to your lips, then press a kiss to the back of it.  the action leaves a pink imprint of your lips behind, in the shape of a heart. you return it to san, who is stunned by your action. "you're so cute it hurts."

you stand up and pick up the empty cans, but not before playfully poking his dimple. he is left in silence for a few moments, replaying what just happened. his fingers brush the pink print you gifted him so generously, and he doesn't know what takes him over. he brings it to his face, pressing his own lips on the same place you did. he allows himself a short moment of peace, closing his eyes and inhaling the sweet scent you've left behind. gods, what a fool. kissing a piece of paper.

he thinks that you don't see him. but you do, in the reflection of the open glass door of the balcony. you allow him to have the moment while you rummage through your cupboards. by the time you are back on the balcony, san is almost laying on the couch. his cheeks are flushed both from alcohol and your actions, fingers fidgeting with the polaroid, and his dimples on display as he foolishly grins at the picture.

"i hope you're not on a calorie deficit." you toss a small bag of chips his way. he fails to catch it, and it lands on his face. "oopsies."

"i'm not. i'm bulking." he says as he examines the bag.

"and you hide it all under that hoodie. tsk."

he stubbornly wears the hood still. you don't have a clear view of his pretty face, aside from the glasses that peek out and rest on his nose, and it bothers you. but you won't press him. you'll let him set his own pace. "are we continuing the game?"

"if you want to. it's your turn, i think."

he watches curiously as you open a box of strawberry pepero. "when you got the job and had the opportunity to choose first, you didn't want to choose. why?"

"as a long time atiny, i didn't want to. i didn't want to make it seem like i like one of you more than the rest." you shrug.

"and you ended up with me."

"and i ended up with you." you confirm. "were you disappointed? i don't speak your language. i don't fit the beauty standards. i was pretty clumsy. i wouldn't hire myself."

"you're too harsh on yourself." san scolds. "i was actually happy and excited. i could practice my english with you. and look at me now! unstoppable."

unimpressed, you bite on the first pepero stick. "so i'm just an english lesson to you."

"you're being mean again. anyways, my turn."

the man takes a moment to think as he chews on the potato chips. he politely covers his mouth as he does so, and reminds you just how perfect he is. how something as simple as chewing has you make heart eyes at him you don't know.

"who was your bias before this?"

you choke on the treat. you didn't expect that. the reaction has him perk up. he sits up straight, crossing his legs and looking at you with an amused grin, awaiting the answer.

"well?"

"you won't get mad?"

he already frowns at the fact that it isn't him. "no..."

"alright then." you take your sweet time chewing the treat, making san's patience run dry. "my bias was..."

"you're killing me." he whines.

"wooyoung."

"what?!"

"my turn!"

"wooyoung?!"

"oh, come on. it was long ago. you're my favourite now. maybe. besides, you said you won't get mad."

"i lied."

he lays back down, sulking. arms crossed over his chest, and his lips poutier than ever. "are you really mad because you weren't my bias since day one?"

"no. i'm mad because out of all of them, it had to be wooyoung."

the streets are slowly dying out, and the building lights are dimming one by one. it is well past midnight. san is cozy on the couch, not showing any signs of getting up and leaving any time soon. you don't mind. you're happy that he feels comfort in your place. in you.

once done sulking, he sits up straight again.

"want one?" you point at the box of treats.

"sure."

he watches you pull out a single one. his hand tries to grasp it, but you simply avoid it and aim for his lips. you place the pink treat on his lips, which so obediently part and take the sweet stick between his teeth. you're grateful for the soju. otherwise, you wouldn't have san eating out of your hand as he looks at you like you are his whole world. you gently push the treat as he chews, and when your fingers graze his plush lips once he gets to the end, you have to fight yourself to not jump on him. san makes it hard by mischievously licking his lips, and your thumb in the process.

"another?"

he nods. in no time, you push him so that he leans against the backrest again. he gasps when you sit on his lap, hands flying to your thighs for support. the hood is finally pushed back by you, revealing the pretty flushed face under the moonlight and street lights. his touch burns your skin over the thin fabric of your pajamas. you are in awe of the size of his palm, which covers a significant amount of your thigh.

"open up." your voice is a mere whisper. he does as you say, and you waste no time in placing the pepero stick between his teeth, but not before playfully teasing him and swirling it around his tongue first. the strawberry and ruby chocolate melt on his taste buds, and he wishes for nothing more than to taste the other pink that is your lips. as he bites down, a satisfying crunch meets your ears. "good boy."

he almost purrs when your hand caresses his cheek. he might combust on this very couch tonight.

"you're so pretty. i could just put you on my shelf and watch you all day long." you're not sure where all this is coming from. you had buried it deep down. was the bottle of soju really enough to make all of this flood out of you? curiosity paints his features, resulting in big glossy eyes and furrowed brows. "my pretty boy." 

he almost whimpers. he's lucky he has the treat in his mouth, because he masks the pathetic whimper by swallowing the pepero. he watches as your other hand retrieves another one, this time placing it between your lips. his face feels warm under your touch. his body is at your complete mercy. all he can do is squeeze your thighs from nervousness as your face inches closer and closer to him. the other end of the stick is pressed against his lips, and he takes it again. he forces himself to go slow, and not like a guinea pig eating an asparagus.

eyes are fluttering shut, breathing becomes shallow, and anticipation pools in lower stomachs as the pepero stick becomes shorter and shorter. san feels your warm breath caress his lips. he smells the strawberries and your lip gloss. he feels your hair tickle his cheeks as your upper body hovers above him. he is aware of the burning situation on his lower area where the two of you are connected. he is overwhelmed.

there is a single bite that separates the two of you. san stops. he isn't brave. you stop as well. and for a moment, he panics. his hands squeeze your thighs in an attempt to keep you from running away again. not this time. not again. and you don't disappoint him.

you bite down on the last bit, and finally, press your lips against his. san exhales into the kiss. he has dreamed of this moment every night. every day. every time he'd see you reapply your lip gloss or lip balm. the scent of sickeningly sweet fruits envelops him, and while he would usually complain, he now welcomes it.

every time he smells a strawberry, a blueberry, a cherry, or a chocolate, he will be reminded of the way your pretty lips feel like a plush cloud against his. of the way you take his bottom lip between your teeth, gently tugging it. of the way your hot tongue swipes over the now slightly swollen lip, as an apology. of the way your body yearns for him, fingers tangling into his hair, playing with the strands. hips hopelessly seeking friction. shallow gasps leaving you whenever you pull away to catch your breath.

of the way his hands can't get enough of you. the way they slide under your top, just to rest on your waist. feeling your burning skin under his touch. fingers tracing up your spine and leaning you further against him. like he doesn't want a single atom to stand between you. his other hand gripping the back of your head, deepening the kiss. tasting you like it's his last meal. like he was made to touch you, taste you.

like he was born to love you.

san effortlessly picks you up. he walks over to the nearby wall, pressing you against it. the cold concrete cools you down. soon enough, your clothes are a mess on the floor. you can't help the exhale of awe that leaves you as your fingers trace san's shoulders, collarbones, then his chest and abs. he fails to hide a proud smile, dimples cutely peeking out. his glasses are all fogged up. you don't want to remove them. the contrast between his face and body should be studied.

"still think i'm pretty?" he huffs, trying to unbuckle his belt while he still holds your body against the wall. he is insanely strong.

you respond with a courageous act; tongue swiping from his collarbone and up his neck, until you stop by his ear. you bite down on his earlobe, and then graze his ear shell with your lips before whispering:  "the prettiest."

hands clumsily help him undo his belt, and once his pants hit the floor and he is left in boxers only, he doesn't waste time in pinning you further up the wall so that your legs fall over his shoulders. fingers dig into your thighs as he dives in, teeth pulling the thin fabric aside and tongue eager to taste you. you're lucky it's nighttime.

pretty eyes look at you as the tip of his tongue barely grazes the sensitive bud between your legs. watching your face. studying your expressions. enjoying the way your brows furrow and mouth hangs open as he finally tastes you. you hold onto his shoulder with one hand, and pull his hair with the other. sweet moans are music to his ears. he notices you enjoy slow but deep strokes. so that's what he does: savours you slowly, deeply, to your core. it feels as if all air has been knocked out of your lungs.

before you can fall apart in his mouth, your hand yanks his head away. you half expect the moan that leaves his flushed lips. san carefully sets you down. he then watches in awe as you lower down on your knees. the boxers free his needy cock from their grip. it finds relief in your gentle grasp. san hisses as your tongue softly swirls around his sticky tip. he chokes when your lips close around it, barely even stuffing the tip before you gag. tears prickle your eyes as you test your limits, pushing his thick length to slide down your tongue and touch the back of your throat.

you didn't take san as a noisy man during sex. not that you thought about him in that light. once or twice, maybe. you aren't complaining. not as his hand caresses your hair, gently pulling it every now and then, refraining himself from just snapping his hips and making you cry as he loses himself to the feeling. his moans are pathetic. in a hot way. in a way that makes you realize you want to have san squirming, whining and begging under your touch.

so when both your hands join your mouth on his throbbing cock, san loses his mind. his whimpers intensify, and his hips hopelessly move in rhythm with your head. "fuck-"

you pull away, but don't stop your hands from moving. "you close, baby?"

"oh," he breathes out at the new nickname. "so close. fuck, so close."

"you want to make a mess on me?" you offer, sticking your tongue out and placing his cock on it.

"no," he declines.

"why not?" to your knowledge, every man wanted that. you've tried it. weren't exactly impressed. but for san? you'd do it again and again. "you don't want to paint my face? my tits?"

he shakes his head breathlessly. "you are too pretty for that. it's degrading. i don't want it."

and just like that, he makes you melt all over again. just when he thinks you'll tip him over the edge, your hands abandon him. but it's late. his cock twitches, and he gasps in disbelief as he watches himself leak on the floor. he lets out a frustrated grunt from the ruined orgasm. he misses the way your eyes darken at his needy and upset expression. you felt sorry at first. but now, you might have discovered a new side of san you like.

"aw, my poor sannie." you cup his face, thumbs caressing his cheeks. you feel liquid on them. fuck, is he crying? "baby?"

"i'm- it's fine," he looks away, humiliated.

"sannie." like a lost, obedient puppy, san's glossy eyes lock with yours. "you're so good to me. such a patient little puppy."

"i am?"

"of course you are. you're my pretty boy. and i'll reward you for being so good to me."

"really?" he is intrigued. "how?"

"are you feeling frustrated?" your fingers move the loose strands of hair from his face, caressing his head in the process. "did i ruin your orgasm?"

"n-no..." he stutters.

"i did, didn't i? poor baby." you award him with a sweet kiss. enough to have him chase you when you pull away. but you press your finger against his lips, silently telling him to wait. "you want to cum, sannie?"

"yes, please." san breathes out. "pretty please."

"then use me, baby." you give yourself to him, fingers unhooking your bra and leaving you bare before his eyes. "use me, punish me, breed me, destroy me. do whatever you want. i'm all yours."

san's mouth waters. his ears are buzzing. he hesitates, at first. once his hands lay on your body again, fire reignites within him. he pulls you in for a kiss, desperately searching for the sweetness of your mouth. the taste of you melts on his tongue. you let him set the pace. he is so lost in the way you taste that he doesn't even realize he is rubbing himself against you, hips hopelessly searching for friction.

"need any help?" you purr into his ear as he switches to kissing your neck.

he only hums, and you waste no time in gripping his sensitive cock again.

"you have such a pretty cock, sannie."

if only you knew before how hot male whimpering was. you would've found yourself a submissive man as soon as possible. but your patience and unknowledge is rewarded, life gifting you san for what you've missed.

san turns you around so that you are bent over the glass railing. you feel his sticky tip brush past your thighs, rubbing against your clit, before diving into your warmth. when he bottoms out, he releases a moan of pleasure and relief. you wish you could see his face, but you'll settle for shameless moaning into your ear as he presses his torso against your back and starts moving. you feel him deep in your belly, so much that the sight of it has a new wave of arousal gushing out of you.

"you're so pretty," he is a blubbering mess. his grip is strong on your waist, and so is the one in your hair. your head is pulled back so that you can catch a glimpse of his fucked out face. "you feel so good- fuck-"

"come on, baby. use me."

"i want to- i want to-" he breathes out between moans.

"you want to cum?"

"yes, please. please, please, please- i can't- ah!"

he's taken aback when your hips slam into his. he lets you regain control, pathetically clinging to you as you work your hips at a rough and fast pace, inching him closer to the promised orgasm. then, you slow down. you feel his every vein against your walls. you feel his leaking tip kiss your cervix as you take him deep, causing both of you to gasp and reach for each other. not able to take it anymore, you pull out just enough so you can turn around. he slides back in like he was made for you, filling you up to the brim and hiding his face in the crook of your neck, all while his hands leave bruises on your thighs and waist as he tries his best to control himself.

"come on, baby. wreck me." you moan against his lips.

san deliciously grazes your sweet spot, and once he finds out just what you like, he slams his hips into yours. his teeth bite into your shoulder, drops of sweat cover his body and make his hair stick to his forehead. yet san doesn't care. he is lost in the feeling of you. in the sound of you. in the sight of you.

"sannie-" you breathe out. "fuck, baby, you're doing so good. you're such a good boy."

now you're a blubbering mess. orgasm inching closer, san abusing your sweet spot with his hot tip, hitting it over and over until a strangled moan meets his ears and your body starts twitching in his arms. the sight of you falling apart has san finally reach his own release. ropes of cum shoot inside you, giving you a warm sensation as you recover. san shudders under your touch as you rub his back, quiet whimpers leaving him as he sloppily rides out his orgasm.

"my pretty boy." you praise him. his hair is now slicked back due to sweat and your caressing. he finds comfort in hugging your body close to him and resting his head on your shoulder. "you did amazing, baby. you made me feel so good."

"i did?" san asks, then raises his head enough to take a look at you.

you press your lips to his forehead, and finally, remove the foggy and drenched glasses and put them up on your head as a hair band so that he comfortably lays back on your shoulder. "of course you did."

you don't know how long you stand like that. until the sweat on the two of you dries, and a chill enters your bodies. you drag san back to the couch, laying on it first and inviting him to lay down with you. he wastes no time in helping you wear your top, then wears his own boxers. finally, he lays down with you. head snuggled on your chest, arms wrapped around your waist, as if you'll fade if he lets go.

"good night, san."

"good night, princess."

you're both covered with a thin blanket. just when you start falling into slumber, san wakes you with a tiny voice.

"am i really yours?"

"you are."

"can you say it again?" he mumbles, half asleep.

"you're mine?"

"no, the other thing."

"my pretty boy?"

"yes. good night."

"good night, mr choi."

he pinches your thigh under the blanket, causing you to yelp. "sannie, not mr choi."

"i'm just messing with you, sannie. good night."

"good. good night." you don't miss the way his dimple appears, even though you can't see his smile from this position.

and you can't wait to poke it every chance you get.

[adelliet]

Wolverine x f!reader

5 DAYS IN HEAVEN

Summary: Since Wade is going away on a mission, he asks you to take care of his roommate. At first you will refuse, but in the end you will be so freaking grateful.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, age gap, strong language, masturbation, breast play, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected sex (p i v), little blood, reader is smaller than Logan

A/n: This is so freaking long I'm so terribly sorry I got really into it, so I am sorry if there will be some grammar mistakes or some parts that won't make sense, I'm not a native English speaker, anyways enjoy <3

Masterlist

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"Fuck no Wade!" you shut your eyes as you frustrated shouted. "Please I need this!" he kept trying to convince you, reaching for your hands but you flinched. "I'm not going to make you a fucking housewife, have you lost your mind?" you asked, beginning to doubt about men's IQ at this point. “Not for me but for Logan” he corrected you as if that made a difference. “It's literally the same” you turned your back as you walked into the kitchen, Wade following you like a dog on a leash. "Please, I'll do anything!"

You stopped for a second. You've never heard Wade so desperate and you've known him for five years and as a neighbor, you know his behavior very well, this is not like him at all.

"Why do you care about him so much?" you asked, leaning against the fridge with your hands tied across your chest. "He's my bestfriend! I love him-" "Okay now it's getting weird" you turned around again as you poured some water into a clean glass.

"Please I can't lose him because he starved, I need my fuckbuddy-" you almost choked as you heard Wade's words while drinking. Never drink while Wade is talking, noted. "And why can't you just take him with you?" you turn around and furrow your eyebrows. "It's not that easy pumpkin" you rolled your eyes but didn't give up to find some other way.

"So he would order fast food, what's the matter?" "Do I look like I have enough money to feed a giant who eats like a beast?" you sigh in annoyance as you slowly realize that there probably isn't other way to solve this. "Wade, I can't cook for him-" "Why not? You're the best cook I know! Please, just for five days, no more!"

When you saw his beggar eyes, you had no choice. You sigh loudly and close your eyes as your head drops. "Fine." You growl and immediately regretted your decision as Wade grabbed you and spun you around at breakneck speed. "Jesus alright stop I'm gonna throw up!" Wade placed you back on the floor and you struggled to keep your balance. But when your vision was no longer blurry, Wade’s excited face warmed your heart. "Thank you so much! I owe you I swear!"

He gave you one last kiss on the cheek before he left your apartment. You could hear him excitedly screaming in the hallway, even on his way to his apartment. You chuckle and shake your head, he is really a child stuck in a 30 year old body.

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You don't really know Logan. You know that he moved in with Wade and they started living together, but you never found out why. Besides, you didn't even have much interaction with him, mainly because of his expression.

He still looks angry and sour, whenever you see him in the hall, you try to avoid him, because his stern expression sent you dread and goosebumps all over your body. Unlike Wade, he didn't look like a friendly neighbor who comes to visit you when he needs sugar or flour.

Rather, he looked exactly like the neighbor who just complains about you every chance he gets. You were a little afraid of the deal, going to cook for him and who knows what will happen if he doesn't like it. What if he spits on you? Or do anything worse?

You were only comforted by the thought that you would only go to him a few times a day and then you could lock yourself away and be safe. Your thoughts about Logan and the whole deal were interrupted by an aggressive pounding on your door. You immediately knew who it was.

You sighed when you saw Wade in the doorway, rudely barging into your apartment without asking. But you're used to it.

"So when are you moving in?" your eyes almost fell out of their sockets when Wade threw this question at you without hesitation. "What are you talking about?!" you tried not to think the worst, unfortunately it was the worst. "Well, you'll be living in my apartment during my absence-" you pointed index finger at him and shook him. "No no no, you didn't say that!" Wade stopped. "I thought it was obvious..."

Your heart was beating a hundred and six and your blood was at boiling point. "Wade! I'm not living with that psychopath!" you lost your shit and started screaming at him. Wade was still calm. “He's not that bad” you were shocked at his words and how easily he was letting them out of his mouth.

"Wade! What if he kills me?" Wade rolled his eyes and shook his head. "He won't kill you, don't worry, if something happens stab him...even though it probably wouldn't help" you started being red from how angry you were. "Why can't I stay here?" you finally asked him the main question.

"You know, I'm afraid something will happen to him, I want you to watch over him" you just started to mock Wade’s patheticness. Oh you are so done. "No….no! I am not gonna do it" "Ah come on sweetheart" Wade grabbed your hands so tightly that you couldn't even break free from his grip.

"I swear I'll give you anything for this, I'll be grateful to you for the rest of my life...just 5 days, please" even as you fought with every nerve and muscle in your body to refuse, his convincing eyes got you again and you let out an annoyed breath.

Wade immediately understood that you agreed and pulled you into a tight hug. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou" he kept thanking you and you started seeing stars for a moment from his tight grip. Again and again you regretted your decision and wanted to get a fake passport, change your identity and fly far away. Unfortunately, this option will not work.

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First day

The time had come for you to introduce yourself to Logan and move in. You only had a small bag over your shoulders, where were your clothes, hygiene items and necessary things. Even if you miss something, you can always go to the apartment next door, aka your home.

“Look, I'm just warning you, Logan can be a little…rude sometimes” Wade told you and you nodded. You already deduced that yourself from his face expressions. Even so, you wanted to be nice and make an impression on him, maybe he'll be a little softer if he sees you smiling.

“Alright, here we go” Wade looked even more nervous than you. When he grabbed the doorknob and went inside, Logan was nowhere to be found. You slowly followed Wade, looking for the grumpy big guy. But suddenly the door to the room opened and the famous, rude Logan came out.

He was wearing a brown shirt and jeans with a belt, now that you had a chance to get a good look at him, he didn't look so bad. "Logan!" Wade squealed excitedly while Logan still had a stern look on his face.

When his eyes landed on you, he didn't move a single muscle, unlike you. You were sweating, your smile was twitching but you tried to keep your cool. "Who is that?" he pointed at you and slowly walked closer. "So glad you're asking, Logan, this is your temporary housewife"

You were quiet but still smiling, while holding your hand for a shake. Logan rolled his eyes and moved his head from your sight in annoyance. That's a nice welcoming. "I don't fucking need her" you would be lying if those words didn't touch you a little, but Wade warned you, so you were at least half prepared for it.

You slowly dropped your hand back to your body and looked at Wade in confusion. "Well if he doesn't need me, I can go-" "No! Stay!" he grabbed your shoulder and looked angrily at Logan. "We already talk about this, be nice" he hissed through his clenched teeth and Logan just sighed. He looked back at you, that annoyed look still on his face. He was literally screaming through that face that he wants to kick you out and he really doesn't want you here. Your smile slowly dropped and you started overthinking, how the following 5 days would look like, with this grumpy rude man.

"Good kitty" Wade complimented Logan who growled back at him. "Well, the kitchen is over there, I'll show you your room and then I'll have to go, the mission awaits!" Wade got behind you and pushed you forward past Logan, who was staring at you but still with an annoyed and slightly confused expression.

"Well, put your things here and I have to go. Bye bye and thank you, I owe you” Wade quickly led you into the guest room, patting you on the shoulders before disappearing out of the apartment, leaving you and the curmudgeon alone.

You just let out a tired sigh before putting your bag on the floor and looking around the room. It was small but cozy. Even the view from the window wasn't bad, certainly better than in your own apartment.

“What's your name again?” you suddenly heard a deep growl and you quickly flinched as you quickly turned towards the voice. Logan was leaning against the doorframe, his hands wrapped around his chest, his biceps nearly tearing through the soft fabric he was wearing.You swallowed before looking into his face again and began to speak.

“Y/N…yours is Logan right? you tried to be nice again, thinking that the beginning was just a misunderstanding. God you are so pathetic. “Guess” he replied arrogantly and you pursed your lips into a thin line as embarrassment flooded your entire body.

"'kay...well it's kinda late, I'll go prepare some food" you informed him and Logan just nodded before walking off to who knows where. You were relieved when he left. As if his presence made you nervous, but not because of fear, but rather because of another feeling that you couldn't quite describe.

You came to the kitchen and started to assemble the ingredients on the counter. You decided to make spaghetti since that was the only thing they had all the ingredients for and looking around the fridge made you want to buy more stuff tomorrow. Apart from milk, some old rotting food and beer, they had nothing at all, men.

When you were almost done with the spaghetti, it was as if the smell summoned Logan without you having to say anything. He suddenly appeared in the kitchen watching you put spaghetti on two plates and pour tomato sauce over them. “I hope you like spaghetti” you said looking at Logan who surprisingly wasn't looking at the food like you thought, but at you. That caught you off guard a bit but not for too long.

"Mhm yeah" he said and immediately grabbed the plate when you finally added the basil leaves. Why are you even trying to decorate the food, you are not in a fancy restaurant here, but at Wade’s home. You just rolled your eyes and put noodles on your own plate. Logan's hungry chewing was making your ears pop and you couldn't wait to enjoy your dinner in quiet in your room.

No sooner had you added the spaghetti to your plate and decided to go into your room to eat, than Logan was already done with his food and obediently put the plate in the sink. Your eyes widened, Wade was right, this man eats like a beast.

"Do you want more?" he just shook his head as he wiped his red mouth with his hand and went straight into his own room. "m'kay" you whispered to yourself and since he left the living room, you decided to change your plan and eat while watching some TV.

This isn't so bad. If Logan answers with two words and doesn't have any long conversations with you where he just taunts you, 5 days will go by like nothing.

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Second day

You got up early because of the annoying alarm and went to get ready for work. You changed into comfortable but formal clothes, put on some make-up and took your bag. When you left the room, no one was there. You sighed with a smile and went straight to the front door.

Apparently Logan doesn't go to work, which you were a little envious of. He can sleep as long as he wants, then practically do whatever he wants for days, surely he must be a little bored if he's not saving the world.

"Where you're goin'?" you froze in a place when you heard Logan. You slowly turned around, and your eyes widened even more. He had nothing on than boxers, revealing his muscles, abs, and perfect body, which made your saliva fly from your lips.

You quickly wiped it off and looked back into his face. God he was hot. His hair was messy but fluffy, his face looked relaxed and tired but that stern look wasn't there anymore. "I- I am goin' to work" you answered with a shaky voice, for which you immediately cursed.

"What work?" his voice was also grainy and deep, he was literally hypnotizing you right now. "Why do you care?" you finally gain your confidence back and he rolled his eyes. "Geez just askin'" he went to the bathroom without saying bye or something like that. You didn't mind, the only thing that was bothering your brain was, why was he so interested?

Just yesterday he didn't want you here at all and now he's worried about you, that you'll leave him? You probably just overthinking. You took your keys and left the apartment as fast as you could.

When you arrived at the restaurant, your colleagues greeted you and you put on the fake mask with a smile. You changed into your suit and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes with the others.

"Hey everything okay? You look pretty frustrated" one of your colleagues asked and it took you a while to process his question. "What? Oh no it's nothing don't worry" you added a convincing smile at the end of the sentence and continued washing. Of course you're frustrated when you have nothing but Logan in your head, his body, his speech, his hair... this is going to be a fucking tough day.

When your shift ended, you were surprised you hadn't been fired. You were confused all day, mixing up orders, got in the way of your colleagues and even burned food a few times. Each of your colleagues asked you several times if everything was okay and you always gave the same answer. Yes, it is. You didn't understand it yourself, how could you be so stupid today and burn the food? This hasn't happened to you in at least 5 years...

All this happened because of your constant thoughts about Logan. You don't even know how it's possible. After all, he's Logan, the guy you were afraid of and would do anything to avoid him...but that was before you've seen him shirtless in boxers. God those thighs, just thinking about them makes your core vibrate.

Frustrated, devastated and tired, you arrived at your temporary apartment, threw your bag on the floor and leaned against the door with your eyes closed. "Tough day?" you hear that annoying but really sexy voice again, but this time it wasn't in your head.

You open your eyes and saw Logan, sitting on the couch with a can of beer, at least this time he was fully dressed. You didn't even have the strength to answer him with words, you just nodded your head. After that you crawled into your room where you had to clear your head for a while, you laid in bed and just stared at the ceiling.

After a while you heard footsteps, but luckily they crossed your room. Was it really fortunate, or rather unfortunately? Your head was a total mess. Now you could use a hot bath with rose petals and a candle around. This actually didn't sound bad at all, so you decided to indulge.

You got out of bed and went straight to the bathroom where you filled the bath and let out a tired sigh. You probably won't have rose petals and candles, but the bathtub is more than enough. You closed the door, not even bothering about locking it, and took off your clothes. When the water was almost full, you turned the water off and lay down in it, a pleasant growl left your mouth, when the hot water covers all your body. You feel more relaxed than ever.

You closed your eyes and in the blink of an eye, all of your fails today and thoughts of Logan were gone. You listened to the water and the silence around you which was more pleasant than ever before. You felt like you were going to fall asleep in no time, this was exactly what you needed. Until you heard the door slam open.

You flinched and immediately looked at them in fear. Logan eyes widened a bit, when he saw you in the bathtub, but after that one second look he looked down immediately, embarrassed. "Sorry" he said and left the bathroom before you could react in any way.

You were shocked, did Logan really think you wouldn't notice the quick check out before he looks down? Well, now you will definitely not stop thinking about him and it's all your fault. If you'd just locked the stupid door, this wouldn't have happened.

You came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel holding your clothes in your hand. You got another jumpscare when Logan was standing by the bathroom, leaning against the wall. How long was he there? Was he waiting for you or was he eavesdropping on you? You had so many questions but so little time.

"Hey um sorry for that" he didn't even look you in the eyes, apparently he's really sorry. "It's fine just, did you see anything?" Logan took a deep breath and looked into your eyes, giving you a clear sign that he saw something. "Oh my god-" you slammed your hand against your forehead and started flushing.

"Not everything! Just um..." "Stop. Just, act like it didn't happen okay?" you were even more frustrated than before and Logan could tell. He just nodded and walked around you to get into the bathroom. You cursed under your breath and walked into your room, where you finally locked the door and fell into bed.

Is it some kind of sign or bad karma that this is happening to you? First you see him almost naked, then he sees you, why do you deserve this? But the question that really played over and over in your head was, did he like what he saw?

He would have covered his eyes or closed the door immediately, but he just stood there watching you for a while longer. Maybe he was in shock, just like you, and you're overthinking again, or maybe not…

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Third day

You got up in the morning like you always did, did your morning routine and left for work, this time no Logan, no comments from him and it made you feel better. You knew that today was going to be a lot better than yesterday.

You didn't even have to put on a fake mask at work, you smiled for real because you had peace of mind from Logan both in your head and in the apartment in the morning. "Hey why so happy?" your colleague asked and you just shook your head. "I just slept well" which was not entirely true.

You couldn't stop thinking about that motherfucker all night. The way he looked when he saw you in that bathtub, how embarrassed he felt but also looked shy, which you would never say to such a tough guy. How he talks to you much more warmly now and how he even washes his dishes without you telling him to do it. You even had a dream about him that wasn't exactly innocent with rainbows and roses, rather the opposite. But that didn't stop you from having a bad day at work. Until you heard the familiar grumpy voice again.

"Is she here?!" "Sir, you can't talk to her right now-" "I just want to know if she works here!" oh no. You heard the angry punch into the table and knew you had to intervene. You stopped working and went from the kitchen to the restaurant behind the cash register, where was none other than the ass Logan. When he saw you, he immediately calmed down and straightened up.

"Hey, what's going on here?" you asked confused, trying to ignore Logan as best you could. "Um this gentleman is asking for you, is he your boyfriend?" "Fuck no!" you shouted, maybe a bit too much then was a necessary and looked at Logan. "The fuck you doin' here?!" this time you keep your voice low but still rough. Logan took a breath to speak but before he could, you grabbed him and went to the corner, so you won't bother the other customers.

"I um" you were surprised that he was out of words. "Goddammit just tell me!" "I was just curious where you workin' okay?! That's all..." although you haven't known Logan very long and well, you could tell he was lying. However, you didn't have time to investigate the truth so you just let out an annoyed breath.

"You can't be that aggressive here! If you don't order anything, get out!" and with those words you left him behind while walking back into the kitchen. Not gonna lie but you felt a little confident when you did this but you also felt a little guilty.

You are not the aggressive bad type like him, you find sympathy in people and you are a peaceful person who tries not to have a conflict with almost anyone. Logan is a really tough piece.

"Everything fine?" you coworker asked while frying some vegetables and you just nodded. How could you be so naive to think you'd slip through today without a single thought about Logan? You really are pathetic.

When you finished your last order, said goodbye to your colleagues and went to change clothes, fatigue hit you again. Today was better than yesterday, you were more focused and you didn't burn anything, but you still weren't yourself. You were still consumed by your thoughts and memories that your brain repeated over and over again, it was driving you crazy.

The only thing you hoped for now was that last night and the incident with Logan wouldn't happen again. You still can't tell if you liked it or not, but what you know for sure is that you can't stop thinking about that.

You left the kitchen ready to go home until you saw Logan sitting in one of the dining booths, alone, half asleep. He scared you again, like always, and you didn't know what to do, how to react, or what to say. When Logan saw you, he immediately stood up and was like a fresh fish.

"You're done?" he asked, like it wasn't weird at all that he is there sitting and waiting for you like your dad. "W-what are you doing here?" "I was waiting..." he didn't finish the sentence but he clearly meant that he was waiting for you. "Why?" you furrow your eyebrows in suspicion.

"It's pretty dark out there, something may happen" why is he so caring suddenly? Was he really waiting for you here all day, just to give you a walk home? Why? "I've been walking in the dark for years Logan and nothing happened to me" you informed him arrogantly and headed for the exit. Logan chased you like an obedient dog. "You never know" he added and quickly held the door for you like a true gentleman. You paused at his act for a moment before walking out and Logan following.

It was an awkward silent walk next to each other where you said so much but nothing at all. The street was quiet, hardly any cars passed by, and the glowing lamps around gave a pleasant atmosphere. You felt good, and maybe Logan's presence added something to that. After all, you were afraid to walk alone in the evening, even though nothing had happened to you yet, but with him you felt different, safe.

"What's for dinner?" Logan finally broke the quiet silence and struck up a conversation. "Oh um I don't know...maybe salad? If you don't mind there won't be any meat in it" Logan chuckled, hearing that laugh make your heart a little warmer. "Salad sound's good" he said as you arrive at the building.

When you got into the apartment you expected Logan to go take a shower or lock himself in his room like he always did, but this time was different. When you took off your coat and hung it on the hanger, Logan was standing in the kitchen waiting for you. You raise an eyebrow and throw a confused look at him. "You're that excited for the food or?" he shook his head and smiled. That's right, he smiled. You had no idea when did his tough-guy personality snap, but he is way nicer to you and you can't say you don't like it.

"Nope, I was thinking that I could help you..." you froze and just stared at him, still with that raised eyebrow. You were shocked, you didn't recognize him anymore. Logan notices your behavior, immediately having regrets. "but only if you want to-" "No! I mean yeah s-sure" you finally woke up and walked around Logan to get things ready. However, you couldn't escape the smirk that formed on your face.

As you pulled out the bowls and cutlery, you felt Logan's presence behind you. He was huge compared to you, covering you completely and you almost held your breath when you felt him almost touching your body. "What should I do?" he asked, his voice grainy, deep and low like a wolf, making you tremble from excitement.

You needed a second to answer him without any mistake or stuttering. “You can take the vegetables out of the fridge” you pointed your head at the fridge next to you and without a word Logan did as you told him. He put everything on the counter next to you and you couldn't help but watch his hands, how big and hairy they were and a lot of scenarios automatically appeared in your head of what you would like him to do to you with them.

"That's all we have" he breathed out and finally stood next to you, so that his dick wasn't touching your ass anymore. "That's fine, we can make something from that" you grabbed the cucumber and started removing the wrapper. Logan was watching you, really carefully and constantly watching your hand, the way you were holding that cucumber, the way you were taking off the wrapper, god he immediately started getting goosebumps and his dick started twitching in his pants.

"Give me a sec" he said quickly and left. You looked at him confused and flinched a bit when you heard the bathroom door slam. You just shrugged and continued to unwrap the cucumber. He probably just went to piss or something.

After you had almost half the vegetables cut to a small squares and thrown in a bowl, Logan finally returned. "Finally, I was thinking you ran away" Logan just chuckled awkwardly but said nothing. He watched you cut the pepper and finally decided to help you.

He took another pepper and a knife and started cutting it on the table. You didn't really care if he destroyed the table or not, it wasn't your kitchen after all. After you finished chopping all the vegetables, tossed the salad with the dressing, and Logan gave it a good toss, you were ready to feast.

You split the salad into two bowls, the same amount for each, and dipped a fork into it. Logan waited until you filled the second bowl as well, which was a little unusual as normally he would have already started eating and not even waiting for you.

Aftwr you take your bowl and Logan take his, you decided to go into the room to eat but Logan stopped you. "Hey I was thinking if you wanna watch a movie together?" again, his random nice behavior caught you by surprise. Where did the grumpy guy who literally didn't even want you in this apartment go? Apparently he's gone forever.

“Oh um…sure why not” you smiled and Logan went to sit on the couch where he was already holding the remote and selecting a movie. You obediently sat next to him, but at a sufficient distance so that you had enough space and it wasn't some kind of awkward, uncomfortable situation.

"Do you have any ideas?" he asked you as he kept switching between films. "Umm I don't know, I don't really care" you said as you finally took a bite of the salad, which was really fucking good. "Okay, you asked for it" he said and selected a horror movie called Evil Dead Rise. "Awh man this looks nasty" you said as you still chew the salad and scrunch your face in disgust. Logan just giggled and took his first bite too.

After a while watching the movie, you remembered that you are fucking scared of horrors. That film was chill at first, but after the first jump scare, you knew you are fucked. You tried to focus on the salad and not being some crybaby, but your fear got the better of you. When another jumpscare appeared, you almost throw you salad on the floor.

Logan, on the other hand, didn't move a single muscle the whole time watching. He was like a rock with a stern expression. The second he noticed your reaction, he had to look and intervene somehow. "Are you okay?" He asked and you just nodded, but your body said the opposite. You were shaking, wrapped in a ball and your eyes were bawling, the exact definition of a person being terrified to death.

Logan wasn't stupid and he knew you'd probably be peeing with fear in no time. That's why, regardless of the awkwardness of the situation, he scooted closer to you at first, seeing how you're gonna react. The closeness didn't bother you at all, so Logan put an arm around you, making you feel even safer.

"Is that 'kay?" he whispered in your ear, looking down at you while your eyes were securely locked with the TV. You nodded slightly and laid your head on his muscular chest, covered by gray shirt. It was comforting to hear his regular heartbeat. You felt amazing.

You don't even remember the last time you cuddle with someone like that. You don't care that it's Logan, all you focused on was the feeling. The way his body warmed yours, the way he made gentle circles with his finger on your shoulder and the way he breathed, these combinations made you forget about your fear.

After a while your eyelids started to feel heavy and you felt tiredness coming over you. But you were so comfortable that you didn't want to leave anywhere and that's why you succumbed to sleep really quickly on Logan's body.

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Fourth day

You grunted as rubbed your eyes. You lay in bed with your eyes closed for a while until you realized you had to go to work. Your eyes popped open and you sat on the bed as fast as you could. You looked around rashly, realizing you were in your room under the covers. But when you quickly checked the alarm clock, it was damn late. "Fuck!" you shouted and jumped from the bed like a lightning bolt.

You quickly started changing and getting ready for work, even though you were already 3 hours late. The whole time you were cursing under your breath and your heart was beating in the fastest way possible. If they don't fire you today, they never will.

After you were all ready you ran for your bag and went to the door. You've never gotten ready so quickly before. Suddenly you heard the door open and immidiately knew it was Logan. However, you didn't have time for his comments.

"Hey, what's going on?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. When you quickly glanced at him, he looked pretty tired, like he woke up just now. In addition, he had only boxers again, messy hair and his voice was so fucking rough. When you looked at him you felt a weird feeling in your stomach. "I'm late" you said as you were putting your shoes on. Logan was processing your answer for a bit before he spoke again.

"Oh, work..." he groaned as he realized what you were late for. You just ignore him and give him a quick goodbye before you closed the door and ran to the elevator.

As soon as you opened the door to the restaurant, you ran to the dressing room to change. You tried to be so fast but you were just clumsy and rash. Your chef's suit was crooked and not even all the buttons were on when you appeared in the kitchen, trying immediately blend in. "Oh there you are! Where have you been?" one of your colleagues asked, cutting vegetables next to you. You just shake your head.

"Long night" you sighed tiredly and cooperated with preparing the food. "You're lucky boss wasn't here, you would be cooked" you look at him as he said that and you both giggled at that stupid joke. "Go fuck yourself" you nudged him with your shoulder and shook your head. But he was right, you have much more luck than sense.

You spent last night in Logan's arms and after you woke up and put yourself back together, you realized that he carried you into your room. It's not his fault you overslept, it's yours.

You shouldn't have fallen asleep, you should have just gotten up, said good night and gone to set that stupid alarm clock. But whenever you remember the feeling of him caressing you, how comforting his chest was as a pillow, how his chest smoothly rose up and down, every time your knees got week and you feel that weird feeling in your stomach. You knew what that feeling was and you hated to admit it, but you catched feelings for Logan.

You can't stop thinking about him ever since the first day, you have unchristian dreams about him and you always catch yourself watching him for too long. You never thought you'd like a bad boy, but here we are.

When you were already cleaning the kitchen and getting ready to leave, you noticed a familiar person sitting in the restaurant as one of the last ones.

Your curiosity got the better of you and you peeked more into the restaurant. Of course that the familiar figure was Logan. Again, he didn't have anything ordered, he just sat quietly and stared into nothing. You couldn't help but smile at him when.

You went to change and said goodbye to the others as you headed for the exit. You pretended not to see Logan and ignored him until he instantly came up to you. "Hey, how was work?" he asked as he gentlemanly opened the door for you and waited. You felt your cheeks heat up and you had to look down.

"It was fine, except for the morning..." you chuckle nervously. "Yeah, were you too late?" he asked as he walked closer to the road making you back up a bit. Another discreet gentlemanly move. "3 hours late..." "Damn" his eyes widened as his mouth surprisingly twitches. "Yeah, but luckily I didn't get fired so" Logan laughed and nodded his head in agreement.

"Anyway, any ideas for dinner tonight?" Logan's efforts to keep the conversation going tickled your heart. "Mhmm honestly I don't know…how about pizza?" you looked up at his face waiting for reaction. "Like homemade pizza?" Logan looked into your eyes and you tried to hold eye contact as long as you could. “Of course duh” Logan smiled at your addition and nodded his head. "Sure why not"

You were slicing salami while Logan poured a ketchup mix over the pizza dough. "What about some music?" he asked, still focusing on the smearing. You stopped cutting and looked at him. "Music?" you asked, giving him a confused look. He nodded, looking at you too and when he saw your expression, he stopped his actions and went somewhere.

You were watching him, as he walked to the radio and pressed something on it until a song started playing. Your smile widened and you started laughing, when you saw Logan dancing. He was moving his hips awkwardly and you can see that he really can't dance. His danced moves could be compared to dad style in the 80s.

You needed to cover your mouth and hold your stomach, because the laughter started to hurt, but you couldn't stop. Logan looked at you and held out his hand in front of him as he approached you. You shook your head and almost collapsed on the ground laughing. "Come on!" he shook his hand, convincing you to join him.

After a lot of refusing and giggling, Logan finally convinced you to dance. When you grabbed his hand, he immediately took advantage of it and pulled you a little closer to his body. You squeal a bit at the sudden move, but you immediately cooperated.

You held each other's hands and did little circles with them as your legs scuttle back and forth. You laughed and squirmed, Logan spun you around from time to time and you enjoyed it as much as you could. This is one of those moments that sticks deep in your head. A memory that will always popped up, whenever you hear Logan.

The music pulsed softly through the air, a fast, intoxicating rhythm that seemed to wrap around you and Logan like a delicate thread, pulling you closer. You couldn’t help but glance up at him, your eyes locking for a heartbeat too long, and the intensity there sent a rush of heat to your cheeks.

You tried to focus on the steps, on the sway of the dance, but something about the way Logan’s body moved with yours was deeply distracting. His scent, clean and warm, enveloped you, making your pulse quicken in ways you couldn’t ignore.

Then, without warning, your leg caught the edge of his, and you stumbled, your balance suddenly thrown off. Logan’s arms shot out, catching you before you could fall, pulling you tightly against him to steady you. For a moment, everything seemed to stop, your breath, the world, even the music seemed to fade into the background as you realized just how close you were.

Your faces were mere inches apart, your lips almost brushing his. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, his gaze dropping to your mouth for just a fleeting second before meeting your eyes again. The air between you crackled with tension, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. Everything about this moment screamed for you to close that agonizingly small distance, to let yourself get lost in the magnetic pull between you.

Logan’s grip on you tightened ever so slightly, his chest rising and falling in sync with yours as he fought against the same urge. You could see it in his eyes, the desire, the restraint, the way he was holding himself back even though every inch of him seemed to be aching to close the gap. His gaze flickered down to your lips again, and this time, it lingered longer. You swallowed hard, your lips parting slightly, as if you were subconsciously inviting him to make the move.

For a moment, you both stood at the edge of temptation, teetering on that invisible line. Neither of you spoke, afraid that even a whisper might break the fragile tension and push you over the edge. Your bodies pressed together, heat pooling between you, your breaths shallow and in sync.

But then, something held both of you back. Maybe it was the weight of all that had led to this moment, the fear of crossing a line you couldn’t uncross, or maybe it was the unspoken agreement to savor this tension just a little longer. Neither of you moved, though the pull between you was undeniable. The space between your lips remained tantalizingly close, yet untouched.

“Close call,” he murmured, his voice a mixture of humor and the tension he was trying so hard to rein in.

You smiled, feeling your own pulse slowly return to normal, though the lingering heat of the moment still burned between you. “Too close,” you whispered back, your eyes holding his for a second longer before you reluctantly eased back, just enough to regain some space, some clarity.

“We should finish that” Logan gently let go of you and pointed his head to the half-done pizza in the kitchen. You nodded in agreement, still dazed from the situation that just happened and from the feelings you experienced. You were a little disoriented, just as Logan except, he could hid it better.

After you finished the pizza, the atmosphere wasn't so stiff anymore. Logan was telling funny stories about his past and you just laughed and tried not to get overwhelmed by his gorgeous face. Sometimes when you listened to Logan, the world slowed down and everything was black and white except for him. He shone like the brightest star in the darkness.

After enjoying dinner, cleaning the dishes together and saying good night, you couldn't even fall asleep. You couldn't shake the thought of Logan, that moment when your lips were so dangerously close and even though you didn't have any superpowers, you could feel that he wanted it just as much as you did.

Feeling his beard brushing against your soft skin, feeling his tongue inside your mouth, you could just dream about it. Also, tomorrow is the last day. You don't know if it's good or bad, you don't know if you're happy or just afraid, you don't know anything at all. After all, deep down in your head you had a soft spot and a longing for Logan.

Inwardly, you longed to spend a few more days with him, a few nights alone and see what would happen. This overthinking went too far, you kept your eyes open all night and stared at the ceiling, while outside the birds started whistling and sun rising.

It's here, the last morning in this bed, the last dinner with Logan, the last day.

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Fifth day

You stayed up all night, your stomach churning at the thought that today is final day. At the same time, you couldn't get that moment between you and Logan out of your mind, when just a milimeter was missing and your lips would be stuck together. The desire for Logan, the need to always have him with you and not let him go, was growing by every minute. His smell of cigarettes and scotch always tickled your olfactory cells. Every time you felt him, it was like your heart burst with excitement. But now you couldn't smell it, the only thing that tickled your nose was the steam from the food in restaurant.

"Hey, are you okay?" a colleague nudged your shoulder. "Huh? Yeah I am fine, I am fine..." you weren't fine. The thought of packing up your clothes today and moving back to your apartment, alone. That there will be no one here to hug and protect you while watching a horror movie, that no one will help you prepare dinner, these thoughts were pressing all the points to make you cry.

Despite all these emotions, you tried to keep yourself in check and continue working as if nothing happened, as if the world wasn't practically collapsing before your eyes. You tried to think positively and looked forward to Logan waiting for you again in one of the booths and escorting you to the apartment and making dinner together while talking.

When you finally finished your shift and said goodbye to the others, you walked out of the kitchen looking for Logan with hope in your eyes. Unfortunately, you couldn't find him anywhere. There was no one in the restaurant anymore and your positive thinking was gone. You went alone with gloomy face. This is last night and he just ignore you like that?

When you arrived at the apartment, upset, you were a little surprised to see Logan in the kitchen making dinner. He looked behind his shoulder and his corners lifted up a bit when he saw you. "Hey...sorry I didn't pick you up today, I was preparing dinner" he excused himself and your anger towards him was gone immediately.

Your face softened and your heart melted. He's also sad that it's the last night and he wanted to make it up to you somehow. He doesn't even have to say it with words.

"It's f-fine..." you said, still a bit shocked but more flattered. You walked up next to him, curious about what he is preparing. "Spaghetti?" you asked, even though you saw exactly what he was doing.

"Yeah, we had them on a first night, remember?" he looks at you and you chuckle at the memory. "Oh yeah, you were all grumpy and just took it" Logan scoffed and nodded. "Yeah..."

"Well, it'll be done in a bit, so do your stuff and then we'll go eat, hm?" you just nodded excitedly and fought the urge to kiss him on his cheek as a grateful gesture. You literally ran to your room, closed it and wanted to change into some comfortable clothes. The thing was that all your clothes were dirty and even when you tried really hard to find at least a one clean shirt, it was pointless.

You sat on the bed with a sigh and wondered what you were going to do. "Hey um I just go take a quick shower okay?" Logan burst into your room without knocking and you jumped a bit. He was gone before you could even answer him.

"Okay...." you whispered under your breath and immediately got an idea. You sneaked into Logan's room looking for his shirt. After all, he won't notice that you're wearing it, and if he does, you can explain it to him.

You didn't look long and saw a gray shirt thrown on the bed. You shrugged, grabbed it and walked out of his room into yours. You instantly stuck it to your nose and inhaled its scent. Cigarettes and scotch, oh the combination was sending waves of pleasure between your legs and you couldn't take it anymore. You quickly removed all your clothes and put on his shirt. It was huge on you, it touched your knees and you laugh.

You could still feel him as if he was with you, on top of you and that was exactly what you wanted. You laid down on the bed and closed your eyes, your brain immediately cooperating and starting to create million scenarios while you were still smelling him. The vibrating between your legs started being unbearable and you had to stop it somehow.

I slowly moved my hand to the fabric of Logan's shirt. I stopped between my legs and lifted the shirt up, a sigh left your lips as you felt the cold air touching your folds. Your hand moved down, your fingers slightly touching your folds, making gentle friction. Your moves were slow and sweet, just heating up before you started putting more pressure.

Your jaw fall open as you inserted one finger in, twirling inside and stretching your walls. You imagined that it was Logan's finger that worked a miracle, that filled you with emotions and the need to feel something inside you, to feel him inside you. You desperately tried to reach the sponge spot, that whenever you touch your head you go dizzy in a second.

You needed more, that's why you insert another finger inside you, moving in unison with your hips. You tried to catch up with your orgasm with gentle but eager sensations, Logan's images replayed in your head over and over and your sighs got louder and louder.

“Hey have you seen my gray T-shirt anywhere-“ Logan walked in, not bothering to knock. You gasped at the surprise and immediately covered yourself with a blanket. Logan weist was wrapped by a towel, making you even more wet at the sigh.

"Oh shit" he looked away embarrassed, but you were the one who should be. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why didn't you knock?" you asked, trying to wash off the embarrassment and replace it with anger.

Logan shook his head, still looking away from you. "Look I'm so sorry I was just looking for my T-shirt" "Well I don't have it so go check somewhere else" you said, your voice calm but your heart beat fast. Logan finally gains the confidence to look back at you, furrowing his eyebrows. "Wait, is that my T-shirt you're wearing?"

You tried to be as calm as possible. “What? No, why would I be wearing your shirt?” All your muscles were tense and you prayed that Logan wouldn't notice. “No that's definitely my shirt” he look at the piece that protruded from the blanket as his corner of his mouth lifted up a bit.

You quickly tried to hide more even tho you knew you were fucked. "No...it's not" Logan came closer to you. "Hey, stop tryna hide under the covers..." he grabbed the blanket and tried to pull it off of you, but as hard as you could try, he was much stronger than you.

"Let me just see it" after an unfair fight, Logan won and tore the blanket off you, revealing his shirt on your body. A devilish smile appeared on his face as he saw you. “So you are wearing my shirt” he narrowed his eyes and you started to panic.

“Yeah and what about it? It's the only clean thing I could find and it's comfortable” although you were telling the truth, it wasn't completely true, because deep down you know very well why you took his shirt. Logan chuckled at your answer and came even closer to you, standing right above you.

"So you're telling me it's just a coincidence that your hands are between your thighs wearing the same T-shirt I was just wearing?" oh you were so cooked. "It's not even like that..." you still tried to save it, but it was already too late. Logan giggled again, grabbing your chin, making you look up at him. "I'm not dumb, I know what you're doing"

Oh he was so freaking hot right now, and he knew it. "You're so fucking desperate" now there was nothing and no one to stop Logan in his way. He completely ripped the blanket off of you and got on the bed above you. In this moment you realize, all your desires are finally coming true.

He didn't hesitate for a second before pressing his lips to yours, aggressively and roughly. You immediately cooperated, your arms wrapping around his neck and your legs unintentionally removing Logan's towel as you wrapped your legs around his weist. You could immediately feel his length, making you whine a bit in the kisses.

Logan's hands were not docile and explored your body. He started from your thighs, continued under your t-shirt to your stomach and finally ended on your breasts, which he squeezed and massaged. You pulled out of the kiss, your eyes shut tightly as you sighed his name. Oh he loved the view he had right now. But he still needed more.

He attacked your neck with aggressive bites, leaving marks that will heal for a long time. "~Logan~" you moaned his name as you grabbed his fluffy hair and tugged them whenever he found that sensitive spot. You could feel his smile forming on his face, while sucking and licking your, now red neck.

Logan felt your wetness, your arousal. How he was grateful for those urgent instincts right now. He finally removed his teeth from your neck, but he definitely wasn't done with you. You opened your eyes as you watched him creeping down. His devilish smile not leaving his face for a second. The image of Logan's face between your legs drives you crazy and you couldn't wait to finally feel him. "You smell so fucking good kitty" he said before his lips leaned against your folds.

His hot breath on your bare core was sending shivers down your spine and you fight against every nerve in your body not to burst your hips into his face. He notices your desperate face and your shaking body, so he decides not to torture you anymore. He licked your fold, incredibly slowly but intensively, that you had to arch your back.

He repeated this move a few times, sucking all the wetness you could give him from the outside, before he burst his tongue inside you without any warning. You scream his name and pull his hair as his sudden move catches you off guard, making him chuckle.

His tongue was swirling inside you licking up all your juice, you were delicious. His nose was poking your sensitive clitoris, sending you even faster to your edge. Your hips were moving along his tongue, desperate for more friction and tried to reach your orgasm.

Logan stretched your walls even more, eating you like you were the best meat he had in years, his speed was unbelievable and the pleasure in you indescribable. You feel the tightening sensation in your lower abdomen and you knew you couldn't hold it in for long. You clenched around Logan's tongue, making it harder for him to continue, but he didn't stop. You tightly shut your eyes and throw your head back, as you almost pulled out some of Logan's hair.

He holds you firmly by your thighs, as your hips lose control and after few more twirl moves of his tongue inside you, the feeling of relief wash over your whole body, goosebombs appeared on your skin and your chest was rapidly rising and falling.

You smile, trying to catch your breath but your eyes were still shut. Logan climbed higher, he was now face to face. You felt his heavy breath against your cold nose, so you opened your eyes and smiled even more. Your juice glistened on Logan's beard and his hair messy, proof of your work.

He giggled as he saw your cheeks all red, your forehead sweaty and your hair destroyed, he loved what he was doing to you. "You're fucking beautiful princess" he said before he kissed you, giving you a taste of yourself. You loved the way he kissed. Hungry and furious kisses, but also sweet and gentle and si was his touch.

He explored you with his massive hands, his fingerprints all over your body. You looked really small in his hands, the sigh makes him even harder.

He couldn't get enough of you, he longed to hear you scream his name.

He quickly adjusted his hips and checked down, before he rammed into you, without any warning. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, as you felt his massive length inside you. The joke was, he wasn't even fully in yet.

You bite your lips, trying to be as quiet as you could but Logan didn't make it easier for you. He was inserting himself deeper, stretching your walls as far as they could go and he finally let out a big sigh, when he was balls deep in.

You felt so full, that every place inside you was now completely filled and there wasn't even room for air. You hold tightly Logan's neck and started making a blood mess on your lips as you dug into them with your teeth.

He chuckled and gave you a few hungry kisses, before backing up to get a good look at you. "Don't hold it in princess, let me hear you" his grainy voice tickles your eardrums and right before he finished this sentence, he started moving his hips. Just small smooth movements at first, he barely got out of you. Even though they were peaceful movements, it sent you sky high.

Your lips parted as you started leaving a quiet whispers and whimpers, barely heard but Logan heard them very well. Those pretty sounds of yours makes his mind go wild and he started gaining speed and strength in his hips.

Those smooth sweet movements? All gone in a second. They were fading into lustful, rough and uncontrollable thrusting, that makes those regular clapping sounds.

You rolled your eyes as he was hitting just the sponge wet spot inside you, you tried to desperately reach yourself before. "Hey, look at me" Logan growled through clenched teeth, and you with a bit of struggle manage to look at his focused face.

His hands find their way to your hips, keeping you in a place while he was pushing into you, desperately trying to catch up with his orgasm. He sat on his knees, looking at you from above, clearly showing who is dominant here.

You just seductively let him do anything with you he just wanted. You loved it, the feeling, the situation, the atmosphere, Logan. Everything together was sending you closer and closer to your edge. Sice you lost your hold spot when Logan sat down, your hands found the sheet around you and held them tight.

The wet sound started to permeate the whole room, after a while even the entire apartment. Your brain stopped controlling your body, which is why you started letting out loud moans and whimpers of Logan's name. It was pleassure to his ears.

He stopped counting how many times he imagined you like this, beneath him, fucking your soul out of you. How tears stream down your face and you beg for more as you scream his name. These thoughts and these dreams kept him awake and he himself is surprised that it took him so long to do this, to fuck you properly.

He feels that he is close and so were you. Another orgasm of the day was approaching very quickly, making your legs started vibrating. Logan growled, sigh softly, keeping his eyes on your face the entire time. Well, not the entire time, just a few times he checkedthe part where you were connected.

You started feeling that familiar urge to pee, while Logan's dick was twitching inside you, but not stopping hitting that juicy spot. You were over the edge now. You tried your best not to close your eyes and not release already, even though you knew it would come in any second. Logan also fought all the demons so he wouldn't cum into you and empty his balls, but he wouldn't last long either.

“Fuck” he huffed, dropping his head down while his hips lost control. His movements defied all laws of physics, the entire bed creaked with you and your entire body tensed.

"Logan I-" you couldn't even finish your though before you tightened around Logan, arch your back and close your eyes, finally letting the climax get you. Logan didn't stop, he couldn't, when he was so close to his orgasm too, his precum already mixing with your juice.

Logan felt it, he quickly leaned forward so his stomach was touching yours and he pressed his face into the pillow right next to your head as he thrust into you one last time with the most force. You moaned by his hit, still feeling dizzy from the recent orgasm. He growls like a wild animal as he cums into you, his fingers digging into your skin, definitely leaving bruises there.

You both breathe heavily, staying in this position for a bit. Your bodies were hot with sweat as you still processed the moment.

When your breathing finally calmed, Logan unhooked his face from the pillow and looked at you with a smile. "Don't look at me like that I look like a total mess..." you chuckle from embarrassment and close your eyes. "Said something bad about yourself again and you won't be able to walk for a month" your breath got caught up in your throat as you heard those words. He said that so casually.

"You're gorgeous" he added at the end and kissed you softly, calming your pulse and heartbeat down. After that he slowly pulled out of you, both groaning from the friction again and Logan collapsed next to you. You didn't wait and scooched yourself on Logans body, your leg laying on his while your head listening to those cute regular beats of his heart.

Logan immediately pulled you closer to his body and caressed your shoulder, making gentle circles on it. Your eyes were closed, trying to rest while being still full of the hormone of happiness. Your smile couldn't leave your face and neither could Logan's.

"What about the spaghetti?" you whisper softly, making Logan giggle. "They're probably cold now" he sigh, keep caressing your shoulder. You just grunted, too tired to answer that or even think of an answer. "Are you hungry?" Logan asked immediately with concern and you shook your head with a bit of burden. He relaxed after that and closed his eyes too. Both of you were tired and too lazy to get dressed.

"Would you look at that!" Suddenly you heard another male voice, this one was annoying and quite provocative. You both knew who it was right away. You quickly jerked away from each other when you looked at the door. Wade was leaning against the doorframe, his hands crossed on his chest and his smile was so fucking annoying.

You and Logan were frozen in shock, not knowing what to say or how to even react. "You take the 'take care of him' a bit seriously, don't you think?" you tried to defend yourself, explain it somehow, but you can't get out of this situation.

"Get out" Logan growled sternly but it didn't scare Wade at all. "Wow I mean damn I...I don't really know what to say-" "GET THE FUCK OUT!" Logan screamed this time, even you got goosebumps when you heard him. That already took its toll on Wade. "Okay okay chill...I'm just happy for you guys" he slowly closed the door but right before the end, he quickly opened them again.

"How many rounds did you have?" "GET OUT!" you both scream in union and Wade finally closes the door fully, leaving you two in a very uncomfortable situation.

You slowly looked at Logan and he did the same, but your staring contest broke as you both burst out laughing. You didn't know if it was the adrenaline you still had in your blood, or just a copy mechanism when something really embarrassing happened, either that you were crying from laughing, still laying next to each other, still naked and still in love with each other.

No one warned you that these five days would be the best of your life.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

[lostalioth]

☆ hi my loves here we go with a what 3rd or 4th i don’t even know attempt at doing kinktober lmaoo. now as always i can never seem to finish kinktobers which is why i lower how many days i do as well as i pick a variety of characters to write for so i don’t get bored writing all month for the same 3-4. the same as last year i will plan on posting a fic sort of every other day so (sun, tue, thur, sat) which is why it’ll be 18 days and not 31. if you recognize any as repeats in last years kinktober prompt lists, yes i carried some over from past lists that i didn’t get to.

☆ i do not do taglists on any of my fics and kinktober is no expection however you can follow my library acc → @aliothslibrary i reblog all my fics on that account seconds after i post it, and only my fics so if you wanna be notified of my posts for kinktober follow that acc and put notifications on :) you can also search up the tag #lostalioth kinktober for all my past kinktober fics etc.

☆ MY BLOG IS 18+ MEANING MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!! ALL OF THESE FICS INCLUDE SMUT AND EACH WILL HAVE THEIR OWN INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS.

day one → body worship + love marks w/ roommate!stucky

day two → dry humping + handcuffs w/ steve harrington 

day three → high sex + bribery w/ eddie munson

day four → bondage + fingering w/ tasm!peter parker

day five → creampie + master kink w/ loki laufeyson

day six → face sitting + thigh biting w/ marc spector

day seven → piercing + cock worship w/ bucky barnes

day eight → pain kink + praise w/ dean winchester

day nine → obsession + belly bulge w/ logan howlett

day ten → overstimulation + hand job w/ sub!miguel o hara

day eleven → semi-public sex + against a wall w/ steven grant

day twelve → dacryphilia + corruption w/ perv!bsf!eddie munson

day thirteen → cock warming + begging w/ steve harrington

day fourteen → free use + primal play w/ logan howlett

day fifteen → lap dance + choking w/ mob!bucky barnes

day sixteen → edging + sir kink w/ steve rogers

day seventeen → caught masturbating + anal w/ sam winchester

day eighteen → double peneration + drunk sex w/ steddie

☆ hope you enjoy my babes!! please send me feedback, don’t be shy to comment or reblog your reactions to the days as i love seeing how you guys feel about my fics :) thankk you so much for reading and supporting my writing if you do and if you don’t for whatever reason that is perfectly fine as well!!

[mwahgo]

LOSER VIRGIN

— Trafalgar Law x Crewmate!Reader

[+18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+]

Summary: Law is a loser virgin and this is first time seeing a woman naked.

Word count: 2,914 words

Tags: P in V, unprotected sex, virgin!Law, fingering, mentions of masturbation, breasts fondling, examination table sex, begging, gynecology check ups

Mwahgo's notes: I read this one tumblr post where i think they head cannon law is a loser virgin and I agree :33 that man is a pathetic virgin. Also, feel free to point out stuff because most of the medical terms i used here are either from google or my own experience so if it’s wrong, please point it out so i can edit it :3 requests are closed for now since I wanna work on my own fics!

Shachi stepped out of the medical bay of the Polar Tang, knees shaking and he looked like he’s about to pass out, “So, how did it go this time?” Penguin asked, grinning smugly.

“I-It was worse.. ugh, Captain didn't have to be that harsh,” His knees buckled as he fell to the floor before Penguin started laughing at him.

“I told you, man, you shouldn't have ate that bag of sweets,” Penguin snickered, putting his hands behind his head.

“Oh but it was so delicious though!” Shachi whined as he plopped on the floor, defeated while Penguin giggled at his devastated reaction.

The Heart Pirates are currently having their monthly check up performed by their own captain and doctor, Trafalgar Law. And as a strict doctor, he recommends his crew to stay in shape and be healthy to being able to fight well and not catch the sickness easily. Law is a meticulous doctor, he gets into detail on what’s wrong with you and what you should do about it, so if he spots something unusual, it’s best to tell the truth than him forcing to use his devil fruit on you.

Speaking of being meticulous, Law does every medical examination under the sun, from general check up to getting your blood samples. He just wants what’s best for his crew, even if it takes too many steps further. He does accepts refusals if the crew doesn’t feel uncomfortable doing certain check ups, he doesn’t want to lose the trust from them so he respects their privacy.

As Penguin, Shachi and Bepo talked among themselves, you stepped in the hallway—yawning heavily before spotting the crew next to the medical bay, “What’s going on?” You asked with genuine confusion.

They three of them turned to you and greeted, “Oh hey (Y/N)! You’re just in time. Captain is having us our monthly check up,” Bepo smiled.

It took you a couple of minutes to understand the situation—since you obviously looked like you just woke up from a nap, you let out a small “ah..” before sitting next to Bepo, “Well, looks like I don’t have any other choice.. I don’t want the Captain to haunt me in my sleep,” You joked, making them chuckle.

“How come you never heard about the check up? Captain usually announces that prior,” Shachi wondered.

You shrugged your shoulders, but before you answer, Law steps out the medical bay—clipboard in hand, “Penguin, you’re next,” He called as he looked up from the clipboard, “Oh (Y/N), you’re supposed to be here 30 minutes ago,” He glared, crossing his arms.

You sweatdropped from the intense glare as Shachi and Penguin snickered at you, “H-Hehe… Sorry Captain, must’ve forgotten the memo,” You scratched your head in shame.

Law just sighed, “Doesn’t matter, you’re here,” He said, “Penguin,” He called strictly before heading back inside with Penguin following behind him.

“Well, me and Shachi are going now, (Y/N). Law asked us to do something around the storage room,” Bepo stood up from the bench and Shachi rose from the floor.

You pouted, the thought of being left alone as you wait for your turn for the check up. Shachi and Bepo just looked at you with sympathy as theybid their goodbyes to you before leaving. You sighed sadly as you swing your legs in boredom, waiting for Penguin to come out and to be called for your turn.

Penguin finally got out of the medical bay with a bottle of medicine in hand as Law stood behind him, “Remember to take that every 5 hours, you can start later at lunch,” He instructed.

Penguin saluted playfully, “Aye, sir!”

Law just sighed as he turned his attention to you, “(Y/N), it’s your turn,” He ordered as Penguin left and you entered the medical bay.

The medical bay was quite large, with two examination beds in the center, machinery placed on the corner and some medical supplies placed in their own storage. You sat down on one of the examination beds as Law flips through your charts, “Have you been feeling sick lately?” Straightly, he asked.

You shook your head no, “Taking any medicines?” You shook your head no again.

“Any allergies?”

You shook your head.

“Is anyone in your family has some sort of sickness that can be passed down?”

You shook your head.

Law checks the boxes off your chart, showing that your completely healthy as he moves to some of the medical equipments on the table, “Alright, we’re gonna start your physical exam,”

Law grabs the stethoscope from the metal table and as he turns around, his eyes widened when he sees you zipping off the top part of your white overalls.

His cheeks blushed as he turned away immediately, “Y-You don't wear a shirt underneath that?” He stuttered.

You looked at him confusedly as you looked down to your sports bra covering your chest, “Oh! It’s because it’s too hot in this uniform and this is much more comfier,” You answered

The doctor just sighed as he puts in the earpieces on and placed the diaphragm on your chest. Quietly, he listens to your heartbeat—monitoring it as his golden eyes wandered downwards, ogling at your cleavage. Law wasn’t an open book to easily read, he tries to be as professional as possible but the sight of your plump breasts peaking through your sports bar, it made Law’s demeanor crumble. His cheeks blushed as he lost focus on listening your heartbeat.

“Captain, everything alright?” You asked.

He jumped slightly when you called him as he immediately pulled away the diaphragm away from your chest, “Normal heartbeat,” he said flatly.

You furrowed your eyebrows in Law’s sudden unusual behavior as the check up continues. Your captain checked your blood pressure, breathing patterns and tested your reflexes. After the exam, he busied himself checking some things of your chart—most of the test you came out either fine or negative so there’s nothing wrong with your health.

Law came back with your chart as you waited patiently for his results, “Well, all of your tests came out, no abnormalities or problems,” He flips through the clipboard, “So, obviously, you’re healthy, (Y/N),” He announced.

You smiled brightly, “That’s great to hear, Captain! Thanks,” Law dismissed you for today as you got off the examination table and left the medical bay.

The moment the door closed behind you, Law let out a sigh of relief as he glanced down at the raging boner through his jeans. Throughout the whole check up, he tried his best to hide the obvious tent between his legs, he tried his best to not stare at your at your chest but his thoughts yells at him, begging him to grab a handful of your soft breasts, how it feels in his rough palms.

Law knew to himself that he’s still a virgin—being focused on studying and travelling as a pirate, Law doesn’t have time to mingle around with women, he doesn’t reciprocate the flirting that some women give him and he gives off a very intimidating vibe. But back in his study room, he would often blush like a school girl over illustrations of breasts in an anatomy books or his cock would harden as he reads about the clitoris. Every night, after a few study sessions, he would masturbate at the images of a naked woman in those books. Law is not stupid, he knew to himself he’s a virgin who wanted to see a woman naked.

You, on the other hand, you giggled to yourself as you left the medical bay. Law may not be an open book to easily read, but his body gives hints of his sexual frustration. The obvious boner in his pants almost made you want to call him out, but you didn’t want to embarrass the captain like that. His red face almost made you smirk triumphantly, his walls crumbling just from the sight of cleavage and every bite of his lips made you want to tease him more. Law is a reserved man, but his body craves something more.

The next month, Law announced to the crew that there will be another monthly check up and ordered everyone to meet him up in the medical bay. As the others conversed to themselves about some recently changes they’ve been noticing, you have a bit of concern you want to address to Law regarding your health. After the crew had their breakfast, they split into groups—some went around the ship to do their assigned chores, some went to the control to manage navigation and the crew members who have nothing much to do, they went to the medical bay to meet up with Law for the check up. You were one of those people as you arrived to the medical bay, you saw Law talking to Jean Bart.

As the big man left, Law’s eyes met with yours as it widens and his cheeks blushed, “Come in, (Y/N),” He said, entering the medical bay with you following behind him.

Law started the check up with the usual stuff—checking your blood pressure, testing your reflexes and checking your heartbeat again. He examined your body for any abnormalities or bumps and so far you were doing good. As Law was checking your chart, you spoke up, “Uhm, Captain.. Can we do another check up?”

Law didn’t bother to glance but he was listening, “What is it?”

You fell silent for a moment, choosing the right words to ask him, “Uhm.. C-Can you do a check up for my.. private parts?” You stammered.

His breath hitched when you mentioned you wanted a check up for your reproductive organ. He never did that examination before since most of his crew members are male and they don't really mention a more detailed examination on them.

“I mean it's okay if you can't do it! It's just that I would sometimes get that check up—” Law cuts you off.

“N-No, it's fine. You’re concerned with your health so I’m here to assure you that you’re healthy,” He insisted.

Law instructed her (he tried his best) to take off her uniform and her undergarments and told her to lay down on the examination table. As Law turned around to start the check up, he saw your naked body laying on the table as his breath gasped. He felt his cock harden in his pants but he tries to hide his arousal and focus on the current task in hand. He approached your relax body and sighed, mentally preparing himself as his hands reached out and grabbed your breasts.

Suddenly, you let out a small whimper and Law jumped back, “What the hell? Are you okay?” He asked.

“O-Oh I’m sorry, you could’ve warned me that you’re going to start,” You said as Law sighed.

He continued the examination on your breasts—his hands feeling the soft flesh, looking around for some lumps or abnormalities while he lowkey enjoys being able to fondle your breasts. Then, his hands lingers downwards to your stomach, pressing it down to feel around for some lumps as well. His tattooed hands now descended between your spread legs as Law breathe shakes, his body buzzing in adrenaline and his eyes admired your cute pussy. He had only seen these on medical books and now he gets to touch them in person. He gulped nervously as his fingers grazed on your labia and your clit, inspecting if there are any signs of deformity. Every slide of his fingers on your labia makes your hips thrust up which made Law weak, thinking if this is your reaction if he fucks you hard.

His hand pulls away from your pussy as he grabs the lube and coated his two fingers, “… Are you a virgin, (Y/N)?” Law asked.

You shook your head, “N-No…” You answered.

Law hit a pang of jealously, knowing that you had someone before him but he disregards that idea as he went back to your spread legs, “I’m gonna need you to breath steady here, it might feel uncomfortable,” Law assured.

You nodded as he slowly inserts his lubed fingers in your pussy. Your lips let out small whimpers as Law almost moan at the feeling of your spongey walls engulfing his fingers, his breath hitches at the sight of his fingers inside you. He blinked back to reality—almost forgetting he’s on a medical check up right now as his other hand pressed down your abdomen so that he can easily feel around inside you. You took deep breathes as Law continues to press his fingers inside your pussy, feeling your around your vagina for any thing unusual but your small moans took away his attention as he glanced up to see your expression—your eyes closed and your brows furrowed as you try to suck in your moans, but Law’s fingers feels so good.

The doctor gulped as he pulled his fingers back before sliding them back inside as you let out your moans of pleasure, “Fuck.. Feels good, yeah?” He asked as the hand on your abdomen moved to your hips, caressing the soft skin.

You nodded as Law slowly fingers your pussy, “Yeah… Feels really good,” You whimpered, “Law.. Please, I want you,”

His golden eyes widened, “Wh-What?” He stuttered.

“I want you to fuck me, p-please. I know you’ve been wanting this, baby..” You bit your lip as your hips thrusts back on his fingers.

Law paused for a moment, radically thinking about the situation. Sure, he wanted to see a woman naked but it was all a fantasy of his, he didn’t expect it to make it this far. You were already willing—begging him almost to fuck your needy pussy and Law couldn’t refuse because he didn’t want you to feel betrayed.

Law nodded as he pulled out his fingers—you whined in the emptiness before he unbuckles his pants and pulling his boxers down, revealing his hard cock. You bit your lip at his size as your foot rubbed his sensitive cock, making him groan, “You must’ve been desperate, right Law?” You smirked.

He growled in annoyance as he coated his cock with some lube before positioning it on your pussy. You gasped as his cock penetrated your pussy and Law bit his lip—sucking in his groans as he feels the sensation of your pussy wrapped around his cock. He looks down and his knees almost passed out when he sees his cock buried deep inside you, creating a slight bulge on your abdomen, “H-Holy shit… Feels so good,” He whimpered.

You let out a small giggle as your hips grinded on his cock, “Please.. F-Fuck me Law, hurryyy,” You begged.

Hearing your pleas, he nodded and retract his hips back—leaving the tip of his cock inside before plunging in back as you both moaned in pleasure. He picks up the pace wanting to reach into you deeper, fucking you hard on the examination table. His hands grabbed your legs and hooked them on his arms, making his cock go into you deeper as you moaned loudly, “Oh fuck Law! It feels so good!”

Law panted heavily, “Y-Yeah, I’ll make sure to… fuck you real good,” He whimpered as his pace quickens.

The examination table starts to shake as Law took an aggressive pace, your skins slapping against each other as the sound echoes inside the medical bay along with your moans and his deep grunts. Law glanced down at your reddened lips as he leans down and kissed your lips. Your eyes widened in surprise but time went on and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer while he maintains his pace.

You pull away from the kiss, “O-Oh Law, I f-feel something!” You moaned, “I’m gonna cum!”

Law pushed himself up with his hands as he felt the tight knot in his stomach, “Fuck, (Y/N). I’m g-gonna cum too..” He groaned, “Can you cum with me, p-please?”

You almost laughed at his pleas as you nodded before you felt your orgasm hit you. You throw your head back as your moans escaped your lips and Law quickens his pace before cumming inside of you, his deep groans mixed with yours. His hips stuttered as his body plopped on top of your sweaty body as you both panted.

“Damn… I didn’t know.. you had it in you,” You teased your captain.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance, too tired to argue, “Yeah well… this is the wrong time to say this but.. I kinda like you for a while,” He blushed, “… And I’ve been wanting to do this with you,”

Your eyes widened at his confession as you started giggling, “Well.. At least, we can do it all the time now,”

Law snickered as he leaned down and kissed you passionately—with you wrapping your arms around his neck and kissed him back.