#adding task library

[soboomzen]

Lesson 2

Adding Audio classification to your mobile app simple tracking wawes size windows and the end adding tensorflow lite task library.

*NB: still by the taken capture there dog on microphone tool

[liuhsng]

✩ˎˊ˗ between the shelves ( sjy ! ) — part 1

✩ˎˊ˗ part of the untouchable series | enhypen masterlist

⤷ pairing — jake x fem!reader

⤷ part 1 | part 2 ⤷ word count — 18.7k ⤷ taglist for the series — open !

⤷ warnings — a/b/o au, alpha!jake, omega!reader, fem!reader, foul language, strangers to lovers trope, kinda oblivious!jake, jake is in love-love, tooth-rotting fluff, mentions of the other parts from this series, not proofread

✩ˎˊ˗ summary — as the only son of a prestigious family and the student council secretary, sim jaeyun—or as his friends like to call him: jake has always been at the top. admired, respected, and burdened by responsibility. he’s used to handling everything himself, ensuring perfection in all that he does. and then there was you, someone he had always seen but never had the chance to approach, until fate handed him the opportunity. hiding from relentless admirers, he found himself in the library, where, to his surprise, you weren’t just another passing face. jake has always adored the idea of having a mate, but he never rushed fate, until you. before he knows it, meetings no longer hold his full attention, tasks he once insisted on doing himself are left to others, all so he can be near you.

A thick, leather-bound book rested in Jake’s hands, the pages filled with intricate Old English that he absorbed with minimal effort. The world outside didn’t exist in this moment. No expectations, no responsibilities, just the quiet hum of silence.

As a pureblooded Alpha born into wealth and status, moments like this were rare, but within the walls of the student council room, he could finally breathe.

His desk bore the title Council Secretary, and his scent of pine and oranges lingered in the air. His instincts, so accustomed to composure, were calm.

Until they weren’t.

The sharp bang of wooden doors slamming open shattered the silence, followed immediately by a heavy thud and the unmistakable sound of someone crashing onto the marble floor. A low growl echoed through the room, spilling through the air like a warning, but it was nothing Jake hadn’t heard before.

He shut his book with an irritated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can't even enjoy my mornings because of you mutts.”

Lifting his gaze, he saw Ni-ki sprawled out on the floor, groaning in pain, while Jay towered over him, phone in hand, grinning so wide his sharp canines glinted under the lights.

“That was pathetic,” Jay snickered, snapping another picture of Ni-ki’s crumpled state. “Hold still, I need a better angle.”

“Go to hell,” Ni-ki grumbled, pushing himself up on his elbows, glaring up at Jay like he was debating whether to lunge at him or play dead.

Jake sighed, setting his book down with patience before looking at them both with a deadpan stare. “If you two are done turning the council room into a wrestling ring, get out.”

Jay only grinned wider, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Relax your ass, Sim, we’re just having a little fun.”

Jake arched a brow. “And I was having a little peace. But as always, you two can’t seem to exist without disturbing the entire building.”

Ni-ki groaned again, rolling onto his back with a dramatic sigh. “For the record, I was thrown into the room.”

Jay shrugged. “You were in my way.”

Jake ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. Annoyed but amused, he couldn’t fight the small smile. This was routine, his peace ruined before the day even began. With a sigh, he leaned back. “Where are the others?”

Jay offered a hand to Ni-ki, easily pulling the younger Alpha up with no effort. As he did, he casually answered Jake’s question. “Heeseung, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Jungwon are with their mates doing God knows what, and yeah, we're here, I guess.” He shot a look at Ni-ki, who was brushing himself off, looking more disgruntled than hurt.

Ni-ki, still in the middle of recovering his pride, added, “Jungwon was asking what you'd like for breakfast too.”

Jake leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the polished wood of his desk. He took a second to think, then hummed. “Any sandwich and tea will do.”

Jay raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing at his lips. “So Australian of you.”

Jake rolled his eyes, the smile still there. He couldn’t help it, his friends knew how to get under his skin but also how to make him laugh when he least expected it. “Fuck off,” he said with a laugh.

Jay and Ni-ki grinned before heading to their usual spots, each claiming their own desk within the spacious council room. They sprawled themselves out on the comfortable office chairs, limbs loose and postures unguarded, a contrast to the cold, poised way they carried themselves outside these walls.

Here, there was no need for their masks of control, no need to uphold the weight of their bloodlines with every carefully measured movement.

Jay leaned back, arms behind his head, his smirk fading into something more relaxed. Ni-ki, on the other hand, kicked his feet up on the desk in front of him. There was no need for perfection here, no calculating gazes from the elders who measured their worth in status and tradition.

Jake watched them settle, his fingers still tapping absentmindedly against his desk. It was an unspoken truth between them—this was a place where they weren’t heirs weighed down by the legacies of their families.

Jay let out a long sigh, staring at the ceiling. “So, what’s on the agenda today?” His voice was lazy, but there was curiosity beneath it.

Jake smirked, finally picking up his book again. “Not my problem until the first meeting starts. So, until then, entertain yourselves.” He flipped a page lazily before adding with a chuckle, “Besides, Jungwon’s the one holding it today.”

Jay let out a low whistle. “Poor guy.”

Ni-ki snorted. “He volunteered.”

“Still,” Jay stretched his arms over his head, “it’s cruel of you to let the kid handle all those reports first thing in the morning.”

Jake barely spared him a glance, amusement flickering in his eyes. “He’s the council president. He can handle it.”

Ni-ki hummed in agreement, already reclining further into his chair. “Fair point.”

Their silence was short-lived.

“Babe, I swear it wasn’t me!”

The frantic plea was followed by the sound of hurried footsteps before the doors were slammed open, again.

Sunoo stumbled into the room, half-dragged by Sunghoon’s sister, who had his wrist in an iron grip. Her eyes burned with fury, a stark contrast to Sunoo’s desperate expression as he tried and failed to reason with her.

Behind them, three familiar Omegas rushed in, all trying to calm her down, but their efforts were useless. She wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

The rest of the council members, scattered around the room, barely reacted, other than to smirk at the scene unfolding before them.

Jay leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Well, this is new. Usually, Sunoo's the one doing the chasing.”

Ni-ki snickered. “What did he even do?”

Sunoo shot them both a panicked look. “I didn't do anything!”

Sunghoon’s sister tightened her grip, making the pink-haired Alpha yelp. “Liar.”

Jake exhaled sharply through his nose, snapping his book shut with a dull thud before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Every damn morning with you people.”

Heeseung, Sunghoon, and Jungwon strolled in, Jungwon balancing a tray of drinks while Heeseung and Sunghoon carried bags of food. Sunghoon placed his down on the table with a lazy smirk. “Yeah, because clearly, I’m the one who forgot her coffee order. Really, Kim?”

Heeseung snorted as he set his own bag down. “Man, you really dug your own grave this time.”

Ni-ki snickered. “Or, y’know, not let your mate plot your downfall first thing in the morning.”

Jake shook his head, leaning back in his chair, already done with the day despite it barely starting. “Someone just make sure they don’t destroy the place before the first meeting.”

Jungwon, the only one actually preparing for said meeting, sighed. “Not my job.”

This was gonna be a long day.

Jake sat at his desk, his chin propped up on one hand as he lazily flipped through his book. His classroom wasn’t exactly his first choice for a hangout spot, but with an hour to kill before class started, the others had somehow decided it was the perfect place to loiter.

Heeseung and Jay were sprawled on the desks near the window, bickering over something trivial. Sunghoon sat with his arms crossed, seemingly unbothered, while Ni-ki stole Jungwon’s notebook, flipping through it with fake curiosity. Sunoo was slumped in a chair, spinning a pen between his fingers, looking as if he was ready to nap at any second.

The rest of the students in the room? Staring.

Seven pureblooded Alphas gathered in one place was enough to make anyone second-guess their presence. To most, they weren’t just intimidating—they were untouchable. A different breed entirely. Powerful, respected, envied. Gods among the mortals.

Jay stretched, letting out a loud yawn. “Y’know, for a guy who complains about us ruining his peace, you sure don’t kick us out.”

Jake didn’t even glance up from his book. “Because you’d just follow me somewhere else.”

Sunghoon snorted. “He’s got a point.”

Ni-ki, still flipping through Jungwon’s notes, suddenly looked up. “So, what’s the plan? We just sit here and let people gawk at us for the next hour?”

Sunoo groaned, tilting his head back. “Sounds exhausting.”

Jake sighed, shutting his book with a quiet thud. He knew better than to expect a moment of true peace when his friends were involved.

Jungwon tapped his fingers against the desk, glancing at the clock before looking around at the others. “We could go out and eat an early lunch or something.”

Jay, still balanced on the back legs of his chair, stretched his arms over his head. “Tempting, but do I look like I wanna move?”

Heeseung smirked. “Or… we could buy a new car.”

For a second, the room was silent. Then, with zero hesitation, the rest of them hummed in agreement.

“We should,” Sunghoon said, nodding as if it were the most logical idea.

“Yeah,” Ni-ki added, “we definitely should.”

Jake leaned back, unimpressed. “You guys can barely get out of those chairs.”

Sunoo, still twirling his pen between his fingers, shot Jake a lazy grin. “Exactly. We have the money, the connections, the resources… but no energy.”

Jay sighed dramatically, rubbing a hand over his face. “Such is the burden of being rich.”

Jungwon rolled his eyes. “You guys are ridiculous.”

Heeseung ignored him, leaning forward with a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Okay, but if we were actually buying one, what are we thinking? Another sports car? Something imported?”

“I’m feeling a custom build,” Sunghoon mused, pretending to consider the idea.

Jay grinned. “We could each get one.”

“We could,” Ni-ki agreed, nodding sagely.

They all sat there for a second, deep in thought. Not a single one of them moved.

Jake smirked, arms crossed over his chest. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

Jungwon shook his head, muttering under his breath before sitting up straighter. “Okay, so lunch?”

Sunoo waved a lazy hand. “Too much effort.”

Jay sighed, finally letting his chair drop back onto all four legs. “Then what? We just sit here and rot?”

“Pretty much,” Sunghoon deadpanned.

Jake, who had been half-listening while flipping through the last few pages of his book, finally closed it with a soft thud. He stretched his arms over his head, rolling out his shoulders. “Well, unlike you guys, I actually have something to do. Gotta return this.”

Jay raised a brow. “You need someone to come with you?”

Jake scoffed, shaking his head. “I’m not like Ni-ki. I can survive a walk to the library alone.”

Ni-ki, who had been aimlessly tapping his fingers against the desk, snapped his head up. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jake just shot him a grin before swiftly making his exit, his laughter echoing down the hallway as the youngest grumbled under his breath.

Jay snickered, nudging Ni-ki with his foot. “You gonna take that?”

Ni-ki huffed, slumping further into his chair. “I’m letting him have his moment. He’s gonna trip on air soon enough, and when he does, I’ll be there.”

Sunghoon smirked. “I’ll pay to see that.”

Luminous shades of gold bled through the library windows, casting soft halos of light over towering shelves lined with countless books. Dust particles floated lazily in the air, illuminated by the gentle glow, as the faint scent of aged paper and ink settled like a quiet hum in the silence.

Jake’s slow steps echoed against the polished floor, the only sound aside from the occasional page turning or scratch of a pen. Most students were in class, leaving the library nearly empty, just the way he liked it.

With one hand shoved deep into his pocket and the other gripping a newly found book by some historical author he had always meant to read, he allowed himself to get lost in the moment.

His gaze trailed along the rows of shelves, taking in the endless spines of stories and knowledge, before drifting toward the farthest section of the library, where the soft rustling of pages caught his attention.

There was someone else here. You.

Your figure stood among the books, reaching up to return a few to their rightful place. The way your fingers traced the spines, the natural ease in your movements—it was almost mesmerizing. Like you belonged to this place, like the library itself was an extension of you.

His grip on his book tightened. Where had he seen you before?

His gaze lingered on the soft flush of your cheeks, the way your lips, plump and untouched by any trace of worry, parted ever so slightly as you focused on the books in your hands. Everything about you was delicate, and it made something inside him stir.

Jake swallowed, shaking his head as if to clear the sudden haze clouding his thoughts.

His thoughts were interrupted by the soft thud of a book slipping from your hands.

The moment it hit the ground never came; because he was already moving, instincts sharper than his own awareness. His fingers wrapped around the spine just in time, catching it with ease. The world around him blurred, fading into irrelevance as he looked up, only to find you reaching for it at the same time.

Your fingers brushed against his: warm, soft, fleeting. But it was enough. Enough for something to stir deep within him, a current running sharp and fast through his veins. His grip on the book tightened slightly before he forced himself to loosen it, finally handing it back to you.

“Thank you,” you murmured, voice gentle, but it rang through his ears like a bell.

Jake swallowed. Up close, you were even more unreal than he had thought. The golden light framed you like you belonged to another world entirely.

And then, there was your scent.

Honey and seawater. Sweet, but fresh. Familiar yet foreign. It was intoxicating, wrapping around his senses and settling into his lungs like something meant to be there.

His own scent spiked before he could stop it—warm, rich, deep, like oranges and pine, crisp air after rain. Not overpowering, but enough. Enough to see your breath hitch, your lashes flutter as you blinked up at him.

Jake silently thanked the universe at that moment for making him a pureblooded Alpha. Because if he weren’t—if he didn’t have the control, the discipline, the sheer force of will ingrained into his very being, he might’ve done something reckless.

He might’ve stepped closer. Might’ve let himself breathe you in for a second longer. Might’ve said something that would betray the way his entire body was suddenly on high alert, every nerve tuned in to you.

But instead, he did what he did best. He played it off, a lazy smirk curving at the corner of his lips as if this moment hadn’t just turned his world on its axis.

“No problem,” he finally said, voice smooth, calculated.

He made sure his tone was effortless, made sure his expression stayed composed, like his heart wasn’t hammering against his ribs, like his senses weren’t still tangled up in the traces of your scent lingering in the air.

He let his gaze flicker over you one last time before he forced himself to look away, shifting his weight slightly, fingers drumming against the cover of his book as if his entire body wasn’t still hyper-aware of your presence.

You gave him a small nod, your lips curling into a polite smile before turning back to the shelves. And that should’ve been the end of it. That should’ve been his cue to walk away, to let this moment dissolve into nothing more than a short interaction.

But Jake didn’t move.

Instead, he stood there, gripping his book a little too tightly, watching as you reached for another volume on the top shelf, your fingers brushing against the spine with ease. He watched as a stray beam of light caught in your hair, making it glow, as if the sun itself had taken a liking to you. He watched the way your lashes fluttered when you scanned the titles, the way your lips parted slightly in concentration.

And for the first time in a long time, Jake found himself at a complete loss.

He had met hundreds—thousands—of people. He had seen beauty in all forms, had been in the presence of those who were revered, admired, worshipped even. Yet somehow, none of them had ever managed to unravel him like this. None of them had ever made the air feel heavier, had ever made him question if he had truly seen them before, or if they had only existed in the parts of his mind he hadn’t dared explore.

Why did it feel like he should know you?

“You come here often?” The words left his mouth before he could think better of them, and for a second, he almost cringed at himself. He wasn’t that guy. He could do better than that.

You turned to him, one brow raised in mild amusement. “To the library?”

Jake chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, okay, that sounded dumb.”

“A little,” you teased, your lips curving into the softest smile. “But to answer your question, I do. I help here when I have free time.”

Something about that made too much sense. You belonged in a place like this, where everything was calm, where the scent of books and ink lingered in the air, where the golden light spilling through the windows made you look almost ethereal.

“Huh,” Jake mused, nodding.

Your brow furrowed slightly. “Why? You don’t come to the library often?”

“Only when I need to,” he admitted with a smirk. “Or when I’m trying to get away from certain people.”

“Ah,” you nodded knowingly. “So, I’m guessing today is one of those days?”

Jake let out a breathy chuckle. “Something like that.” He tilted his head slightly, curiosity getting the better of him. “What about you? You actually like being here?”

Your gaze softened, trailing over the rows of books surrounding you. “Yeah. It’s quiet. Peaceful.” You glanced back at him, a playful glint in your eyes. “And usually free of distractions.”

Jake placed a hand over his chest, feigning offense. “Ouch. Are you saying I’m a distraction?”

You bit back a laugh. “I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t have to,” he shot back, his smirk widening.

For a moment, silence settled between you both—not the awkward kind, but something softer, something comfortable. Jake found himself memorizing the way the light reflected in your eyes, the way your fingers brushed against the book in your hands absentmindedly.

Then you tilted your head. “What book is that?”

Jake glanced down at the book he had been gripping this entire time. “Something I just finished.”

“Was it good?”

He studied you for a moment before a teasing glint flickered in his gaze. “Maybe you should borrow it and find out.”

You smirked, crossing your arms. “What if I hate it?”

Jake grinned, tilting his head, eyes glinting with mischief. “Then I’d seriously question your taste in books, and possibly in people.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t help the amused chuckle that escaped. “Wow, so judgmental.”

He shrugged, unbothered. “I have standards.”

You laughed softly, reaching for the book. Your fingers brushed his—warm, electric. Jake’s scent spiked before he could stop it, oranges and pine, rich and inviting.

You didn’t say anything, but you hesitated, your fingers lingering against his for just a fraction longer than necessary. That momentary pause tells him you noticed.

Jake cleared his throat, flexing his fingers slightly before shoving one hand into his pocket. He watched as you flipped open the book, eyes scanning the first few lines. The sunlight filtering through the library windows caught in your hair, giving you an almost ethereal glow. You looked so focused, so at ease, and yet…

There’s something about you that tugs at something buried deep inside him.

“You’re sure we haven’t met before?” he asks, voice quieter this time, like he’s speaking more to himself than to you.

You glance up, brows furrowing slightly. “You seem familiar.” Your voice is careful, as if testing the words. “And not just because you’re the student council secretary.”

Jake watches you closely as you tilt your head, lost in thought.

“I feel like I’ve seen you before,” you continue. “At dinners, at events.” A small sigh escapes you. “But I never really cared to remember the faces or names at those things.”

Something in Jake’s chest tightens.

You weren’t like the others, then. The ones who flaunted their family names, who cared too much about appearances, about impressing the right people. You were rich, sure, but you didn’t let it define you.

And somehow, that made you even more intriguing. A slow smirk tugs at the corner of Jake’s lips. “Ouch.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Don’t take it personally. I just never cared about those social circles.”

Jake hums in amusement. “And yet, here we are.”

You arch a brow. “And yet, here we are.”

Jake’s gaze flickers to the book cart beside you, filled with stacks waiting to be returned to their proper places. He tilts his head, considering, then gestures toward it.

“Mind if I help?”

You blink, caught off guard. “You?”

He raises an eyebrow. “What? Think I’m incapable of putting books on a shelf?”

You huff out a small laugh. “I just figured you’d have a class to get to. Or a meeting.”

Jake leans casually against the cart, hands in his pockets, looking completely unbothered. “My classes don’t even start for at least forty minutes or so.” His lips curl into that signature, lazy grin. “Plenty of time to lend a hand.”

You narrow your eyes playfully. “And why exactly would the student council secretary want to waste his free time stacking books?”

His grin widens. “Maybe I just like the company.”

You roll your eyes, turning to grab a book from the cart, but before you can, Jake leans in slightly, dropping his voice just enough to make you pause.

“Or,” he teases, “are you saying you don’t want a big, strong Alpha helping you?”

You let out a giggle, shaking your head. “Oh, please.”

Jake smirks. “That wasn’t a no.”

You shake your head again, amused, and hand him a book. “Fine, Secretary Sim. Let’s see if you actually know your way around a library.”

He takes it from you with an exaggerated air of confidence. “Prepare to be impressed.”

And just like that, minutes pass, time slipping through your fingers like sand as you and Jake move through the towering shelves, placing books where they belong. What started as a simple task quickly turns into something else entirely, something lighter.

You are nothing but a giggling fit as the pureblooded Alpha standing just a few inches from you recounts stories from his childhood. For someone who always seemed so put-together, so composed, seeing this side of him; one filled with sighs and boyish grins as he talks about his past—it was unexpectedly charming.

“So let me get this straight,” you say, biting back another laugh as you slide a book onto the shelf. “You cried because your tutor forced you to read Alice in Wonderland?”

Jake groans dramatically, running a hand down his face. “I was like… six, okay? And I didn’t just cry—I threw the book.”

You gasp, covering your mouth in mock horror. “The abuse!”

He snorts, shaking his head. “It was self-defense. I thought it was gonna be some fun story about a girl going on an adventure, but it made no sense.”

You stifle a laugh as he leans against the shelf beside you, watching your expression with a knowing smirk. “You think it’s funny?”

You nod, grinning. “It is funny. What kind of kid throws a tantrum over Alice in Wonderland?”

“The kind who got locked in a study room for hours and told he wasn’t leaving until he finished the chapter,” he says, deadpan.

At that, you burst into quiet laughter, shaking your head. “So what changed? You seem pretty into books now.”

Jake exhales, rolling a book between his hands. “Honestly? After that, I refused to read anything for a while. But my mom, she wasn’t having it. She started giving me books that actually interested me. Stories about history, people, real things. And eventually… I don’t know. I got used to it. Liked it, even.”

His voice softens slightly, a hint of sincerity slipping through his usual teasing tone. It makes you pause, watching him a little more closely.

“Guess I should thank my stubborn tutor,” he adds with a lopsided smile. “Even if Alice in Wonderland still haunts me to this day.”

You shake your head, grinning. “Noted. No Wonderland-themed gifts for you.”

Jake chuckles, his gaze lingering on you for just a second too long. Then, with a playful nudge of your shoulder, he steps back, grabbing another book from the cart.

He glances down at the watch strapped to his wrist, and his chest tightens when he sees the time—only ten minutes left before his next class. He exhales through his nose, shoulders dropping slightly.

Why did it feel so heavy to leave? It wasn’t like he wasn’t coming back. It wasn’t like this was the last time he’d see you. But something about walking away now, after all the laughter, after the ease that settled between you both, made his steps feel weighted.

He sets the book down on the cart, rubbing the back of his neck before finally looking at you. “Guess I should get going,” he mutters, not moving just yet.

You tilt your head, a soft, knowing smile gracing your lips. “Duty calls, huh?”

Jake chuckles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. Something like that.”

There’s a second of silence, and he shifts on his feet, reluctant. He knows he should go, his class isn’t going to wait for him—but there's something holding him in place, like an invisible thread still tying him to this moment, to you.

His fingers tap against the side of his thigh, his weight shifting slightly. Then, before he can think twice about it, he blurts out, “You know… I never got your name.”

It’s a poor excuse to stay a little longer, but it’s the truth. He’s heard people mention you before, seen you in passing at events or around school—always just another face in a sea of familiarity. But here, now, under the warm glow of the library, he realizes that knowing of you isn’t the same as knowing you.

And he wants to.

Your eyebrows lift slightly, caught off guard by the sudden shift. Then, as if humoring him, you tilt your head, an amused glint in your eyes.

“You mean to tell me you, Sim Jaeyun—Jake, student council secretary—know the names of half the student body but not mine?” you tease lightly, arms crossing over your chest.

Jake scoffs, crossing his own arms in response, mirroring your stance. “Hey, in my defense, most people introduce themselves to me first,” he says, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You, on the other hand, just threw books at me and insulted my childhood trauma.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Fine, fine.” You unfold your arms, watching him for a moment before finally saying, “(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).”

And that’s it. That’s all it takes.

He just knows he looks stupid right now. Like some love-struck idiot with a boyish grin plastered across his face. But he can’t help it.

Your name fits. It rolls through his mind so easily, as if he’s always known it.

“(Y/N),” he repeats, testing how it feels on his tongue. Yeah. He likes it.

Before he can embarrass himself any further, he takes a step back, pointing lazily at the book still on top of the cart. “Don’t forget to let me know if you hate it,” he teases, a smirk playing at his lips.

You roll your eyes but wave him off with an amused shake of your head.

The brunette Alpha stood at the front of the room, hands in his pockets, the glow of the projector casting sharp shadows across his face.

Another council meeting was in full swing, and the proposal was displayed on the screen behind him—an extensive, well-structured plan covering student initiatives for the next few months. His voice was steady as he spoke.

“As you can see, the proposed projects align with last year’s data on student participation rates. The revisions focus on accessibility, budget efficiency, and—”

A voice interrupted.

“How are you sure this is actually in line with what the student body wants?”

Jake’s sentence cut off. His head tilted slightly, eyes flickering toward the source of the comment—a Beta seated a few rows back, arms crossed, expression laced with casual arrogance.

Silence settled over the room.

Jake didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he exhaled through his nose, his fingers curling slightly before flexing out again.

Then, he let out a quiet scoff. The kind that wasn’t amused. The kind that sent tension through the air.

The Beta shifted in his seat, but Jake only raised a brow, taking his time before speaking.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice calm. Too calm. “Did I just spend the last ten minutes breaking down survey data, feedback percentages, and budget adjustments for you to sit there and ask that?”

The Beta blinked.

Jake took a step forward, slowly, hands still in his pockets. “Tell me, do you think I’m just making things up? You think I’m sitting in my room, pulling numbers out of my ass for fun?” His voice was smooth, but the sharpness beneath it was unmistakable.

The room was deathly quiet now.

The Beta’s smirk wavered, but he pushed back. “I just think we should consider if—”

Jake cut him off. “No, see, I actually consider things. That’s why I have reports—real student responses—right here.” He tapped the remote, switching the slide. Pages of survey results filled the screen. “Meanwhile, you’re just speculating.”

Silence.

Jake’s gaze was cold. The Beta looked away.

“Thought so,” Jake muttered, clicking to the next slide as if nothing had happened. “Now, moving on.”

The tension still hung thick in the air, but somewhere near the front, Heeseung and Sunghoon exchanged a look—one of amusement, a smirk tugging at the corners of their lips.

Heeseung let out a quiet chuckle under his breath, barely audible over the sound of the projector clicking to the next slide. Sunghoon bit the inside of his cheek to keep from outright grinning.

“Damn,” Heeseung muttered low enough for only those nearby to hear.

Sunghoon, resting his chin lazily against his palm, whispered back, “Should’ve kept his mouth shut.”

The Beta had noticeably shrunk in his seat, his earlier arrogance dissolving under Jake’s scrutiny. His grip tightened around his pen, eyes fixed anywhere but on the secretary at the front of the room.

From the side, Sunoo barely spared him a glance before mumbling, “Serves him right.”

Jake, meanwhile, acted as though nothing had happened, his expression schooled back into indifference. He clicked through another slide, eyes skimming over the proposal details.

Ni-ki and Jay, seated near the back, exchanged glances before grinning. Without a word, Ni-ki held up a fist, and Jay bumped his against it—the silent gesture between them going unnoticed by most.

Well, almost unnoticed.

Jungwon, ever the responsible president, was supposed to be the professional one—the peacemaker. He was meant to keep the meetings under control, not laugh in moments like this. But, really, this was what happened when people tried to provoke them.

Despite knowing better, Jungwon let out a quiet snicker, only to quickly disguise it with a cough, covering his mouth as if clearing his throat. The movement was poorly timed, though, and Sunoo shot him an unimpressed look while Heeseung outright smirked.

Jake, standing at the front, didn’t acknowledge any of it, his attention seemingly fixed on the presentation—but the sharp flicker of amusement in his eyes betrayed him.

“As I was saying before we decided to entertain baseless accusations,” Jake continued smoothly, clicking through another slide, “the budget allocations for each committee have been balanced accordingly. If anyone has actual concerns that don’t involve unnecessary questioning of my ability to read statistics, now would be the time to raise them.”

Silence.

Jungwon pressed his fist against his mouth, eyes crinkling as he fought the urge to laugh again.

Jake exhaled sharply through his nose, rolling his shoulders back before giving a curt nod.

“That’s all for today,” he hummed, voice smooth yet edged with the remnants of his earlier irritation. He didn’t bother with any closing remarks or pleasantries, simply gathering his things with efficiency. His movements were controlled—yet the way he shut his notebook with just a little too much force gave him away.

The second the meeting ended, he was gone. No lingering, no small talk, just a brisk exit, bag slung over his shoulder.

His steps were quick, the grand library doors already in sight, the one place no one would dare follow him.

But just as he turned the corner, voices caught his attention.

“Oh! Jake’s free now, should we go talk to him?”

“He always leaves so quickly after meetings… maybe today’s our chance?”

Jake cursed under his breath.

A group of Omegas stood a few feet away, clearly debating the best way to approach him. He didn’t have the patience for this. Not today. He wasn’t in the right mindset to deal with hopeful smiles or small talk.

More importantly, he didn’t trust himself not to accidentally snap. The last thing he needed was to ruin someone’s day just because he was still irritated from some idiotic remark earlier.

And, god forbid, if someone tried to confess their feelings today, he might actually combust.

He quickened his pace, reaching the library doors just before anyone could call his name. Slipping inside, he shut them behind him with a soft thud, muting the distant voices that nearly caught him.

The Alpha took a breath.

The library was cool, quiet—the perfect escape. His sharp eyes scanned the room, quickly bypassing the open tables and the front desk. He didn’t want to risk being found. Instead, he made a beeline for the very back, where towering bookshelves created a maze of hidden seats.

There, near the last row, he found what he was looking for—a section with oversized shelves, their positioning just awkward enough to create a hidden space. It wasn’t a proper seating area, more like a forbidden section of the library, where students occasionally hid when they wanted to avoid the world.

Perfect.

Jake slipped into the small space, sinking onto the cushioned seat against the back wall. The moment he was out of sight, he let his head rest against the wood, eyes briefly shutting.

Finally. No interruptions. No stupid questions. No unwanted attention. Just silence.

Jake had been there for a while now, longer than he intended, but time always moved differently in the library. The quiet had done little to fully rid him of his earlier frustration, but at least it kept him from doing something he’d regret.

A book rested in his hands, something he had picked up absentmindedly from the shelf near his hiding spot. He wasn’t even sure what it was about, but flipping through the pages had given him something to do.

His fingers hovered over the corner of the page, ready to turn it, when he heard it—soft footsteps approaching, barely audible against the carpeted floors.

Jake tensed.

He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. If it was one of his friends coming to tease him, or worse, someone trying to get his attention for another pointless conversation, he was going to—

But then the scent of honey and seawater hit him.

It was soft, familiar, cutting through his frustration like a breath of fresh air. Unlike the overwhelming scents he had escaped, this one simply existed, wrapping around him until his grip on the book loosened.

Then, your voice followed. “Are you okay?”

Jake froze.

Your voice was gentle, laced with concern. Not prying, but still searching. And suddenly, whatever sharp retort he had been about to throw out died in his throat.

His annoyance didn’t seem so important anymore.

Jake swallowed, his lips parting slightly, but no words came out at first. It wasn’t like him to be at a loss for words—not in meetings, not in arguments, not even when he was annoyed. But something about you being here, standing so close, made all the tension he had been carrying shift into something else.

Slowly, he lowered the book, tilting his head just enough to meet your gaze. Your expression was soft, brows slightly drawn together, not with curiosity, but with something gentler. You weren’t here to pry or gossip. You just… cared. And suddenly, his frustration felt almost childish.

“I…” he stopped himself, exhaling sharply through his nose.

He wanted to say he was fine, that it was nothing, that it was just another stupid meeting with people who didn’t know how to keep their mouths shut.

But the words didn’t come out.

Instead, Jake leaned back against the loveseat, gaze flickering to the pages of his book as if searching for an answer.

You didn’t press him. You didn’t demand an explanation or scold him for running off like his friends probably would have. You just stood there, waiting.

And for some reason, that made him want to answer.

“I just needed some space,” he muttered eventually, his voice quieter than usual, lacking its usual sharpness. He rubbed the back of his neck, finally meeting your eyes again. “Didn’t feel like dealing with anyone.”

You hummed, stepping closer. The scent of you made the last of his annoyance settle into something easier to manage.

“I figured,” you said softly. “You looked upset earlier.”

Jake’s brows lifted slightly, surprised that you had noticed. His friends might’ve caught on, but most people weren’t perceptive enough to see through his carefully crafted walls. Yet, you had.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Some beta tried challenging me mid-meeting,” he muttered, irritation creeping in before he caught himself. Shaking his head, he added, “Doesn’t matter anymore.”

Silence settled between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

Jake found himself watching you instead—how you shifted slightly on your feet, how your fingers curled at your sides as if debating whether or not to reach out. The thought made something in his chest tighten unexpectedly.

Then, after a moment, you spoke again.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Jake let out a quiet laugh, not mocking, but almost… grateful. He shook his head, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips. “Nah,” he said, closing the book in his hands. “But… I don’t mind staying here for a while.”

His voice was quieter now, almost hesitant, but the way your face softened told him you understood.

You hesitated before shifting your weight slightly. “Can I sit?”

Jake blinked, surprised by the question, then nodded, maybe a little too eagerly. Clearing his throat, he schooled his expression back to neutral and gestured to the spot beside him. “Yeah, of course.”

You settled down next to him, the space between you small but not suffocating. Close enough that he could feel your warmth, but not close enough to be overwhelming.

Jake exhaled slowly, feeling the last remnants of his frustration loosen in his chest. The meeting, the irritation, the unwanted attention from his admirers, it all seemed a little less important now.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The only sounds were the distant rustling of pages and the occasional creak of a chair as someone moved in the main area of the library. But here, hidden away behind the tall shelves, it felt like a world apart.

His fingers idly traced the book’s cover, though he wasn’t really reading. Instead, he was hyper-aware of your knee barely brushing his, your scent lingering; unexpectedly soothing.

“You always come here when you need space?” you asked after a moment, your voice soft, curious but not prying.

Jake tilted his head slightly, considering. “Not always,” he admitted. “But it’s quiet. And no one really thinks to look for me back here.” He huffed a quiet laugh. “Except you, apparently.”

You smiled, nudging his arm lightly. “I had a feeling.”

The pureblooded Alpha found himself smiling back—a real one this time. Not forced, not out of politeness, but something small and genuine.

Jake eased back against the wall, shoulders finally relaxing. His fingers tapped absently on the book’s spine, but he wasn’t reading, not when your presence felt more real than the words on the page.

“You know, you always seem to know where to find me,” he mused, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

You shrugged, tilting your head slightly. “Maybe I just know you better than most, even if I just met you.”

The words settled between you both—not heavy, not awkward, just honest. Jake felt something unfamiliar stir in his chest, something warm.

He studied you for a second longer before shaking his head with a soft chuckle. “Scary thought.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh, please. You’re not that complicated.”

Jake hummed, amused, but didn’t argue. Instead, he let the silence stretch again, though this time, it felt different—more comfortable. The frustration from earlier had nearly faded entirely, replaced by something far less sharp.

After a moment, you reached over, tapping your fingers lightly against the edge of his book. “So, what are you reading?”

Jake glanced down, suddenly remembering he was even holding something. He flipped the book in his hands absentmindedly before handing it over to you. “Something I grabbed off the shelf. Wasn’t really paying attention.”

You took it, skimming the cover. “Mmh, seems interesting.”

Jake scoffed lightly. “You didn’t even read anything yet.”

You grinned. “I have good intuition.”

Jake shook his head, but the amusement lingered in his eyes. He watched as you scanned the cover, the way your brows furrowed slightly in concentration. He didn’t know why, but the sight of you so focused on something so simple made his chest tighten.

He looked away, clearing his throat. “You can borrow it if you want.”

You glanced up at him, lips twitching in the beginnings of a smile. “You sure? I thought you came here to read.”

Jake exhaled a short laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well…” He trailed off, gaze flickering to yours before looking away just as quickly. “I think I found something better to focus on.”

The words left his mouth before he could really think about them, and Jake nearly winced at himself. But then you laughed, soft and light—and the tension in his shoulders eased.

You nudged him again, a touch more lingering this time. “Flatterer.”

Jake smirked. “Just saying.”

You tapped your fingers against the book’s spine, tilting your head slightly as you considered something. Then, with an easy smile, you turned to Jake.

“Wanna read it together?”

Jake blinked, caught off guard. “Together?”

You nodded, flipping the book open and patting the space between you both. “Yeah. You said you weren’t really paying attention when you picked it, right? So why not give it a proper chance?”

Jake hesitated for a second, then exhaled through his nose, a soft chuckle slipping past his lips. “You really don’t take no for an answer, do you?”

You grinned. “Not when I know it’s a good idea.”

Shaking his head, Jake shifted slightly, leaning in just enough so he could read over your shoulder as you settled into the first few pages. The closeness wasn’t something he was used to—at least, not like this. It wasn’t suffocating. Instead, it felt warm, your scent wrapping around him in a way that slowly untangled the tension from his limbs.

For a few minutes, the only sound between you both was the quiet rustle of pages turning. Then—

“Oh my god,” you murmured, biting back a laugh.

Jake glanced at you, brow furrowed. “What?”

You pointed at a line of dialogue, barely able to hold in your giggle. “My love for you burns like the eternal sun, scorching and unyielding in its devotion.”

You turned to him, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Scorching and unyielding?”

Jake groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I knew I picked up something weird.”

You nudged him playfully. “No, no, this is great. Keep reading.”

Jake huffed but followed along as you continued. Another dramatic line came up, something about hearts entwining like ivy around stone, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling again.

“You’re laughing,” Jake accused, though his tone was more fond than annoyed.

You nodded, grinning. “Because this is so overly dramatic. Do people actually talk like this?”

Jake smirked, flipping the page. “Maybe in, like, the 1800s.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “I don’t know, Jake. I think you should take notes. Maybe next time you wanna woo an Omega, try saying, ‘My devotion to you is like the tides, endless and drawn to the moon’s call.’”

Jake nearly choked. “Absolutely not.”

Your laughter echoed softly through the library’s quiet corners, warm and easy. Jake grinned despite himself, the bitterness in his scent from earlier fading entirely, replaced by something softer, warm oranges and fresh pine, subtle but there.

You inhaled lightly, the change making your chest flutter just a bit. Without thinking, you smiled.

Jake noticed.

His gaze flickered to you, curiosity glinting in his eyes. “What?”

You shook your head, still smiling. “Nothing.”

Jake wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t push. Instead, he let the moment settle, let the warmth of your laughter and the ridiculous book between you both fill the space.

“Alright,” he sighed dramatically, flipping another page. “Let’s see just how much worse this gets.”

For a while, you read in silence, the occasional rustle of a page the only sound. The library's soft glow wrapped your hidden corner in warmth, making it feel even more secluded, like the rest of the world had melted away, leaving just the two of you.

Jake found himself enjoying the book despite its overly dramatic writing, maybe because you were reading it too. Your amused huffs and quiet comments made it more entertaining than it should have been. But after a while, he noticed something.

You had grown quiet.

Too quiet.

Jake subtly glanced at you from the corner of his eye, lips twitching when he realized what was happening. Your blinks were getting slower, your posture more relaxed, and the way your fingers had stopped fidgeting with the edge of the page told him—without a doubt—you were dozing off.

He let out a breathless chuckle, barely a sound, shaking his head. You really do have a way of catching me off guard, huh?

For a moment, he debated waking you, but something about the peaceful look on your face stopped him. Instead, Jake hesitated for only a second before moving carefully.

With the gentleness only a pureblooded Alpha raised on traditional etiquette could have, he shifted ever so slightly, angling his shoulder toward you. Then, just as lightly, he guided your head to rest against him.

You stirred for the briefest moment, instinctively snuggling a little closer to his side.

Jake immediately froze. His whole body tensed.

His heart skipped a beat.

It was ridiculous, but the warmth of you against him, the way your scent wrapped around him so effortlessly, made his thoughts stumble.

He swallowed, exhaling slowly through his nose, trying to will away the sudden tightness in his chest. This is fine. It’s nothing.

You were just tired. And he was just being considerate. That’s what an Alpha was supposed to do, right? Protect, provide comfort, ensure safety.

So why did it feel like something far more intimate?

He swallowed, forcing himself to focus on the book still open in his lap. The words blurred slightly as his mind reeled, but he kept reading anyway, if only to distract himself from the fact that you were resting against him, trusting him enough to do so.

Outside, the library remained as quiet as ever. The world carried on.

But for Jake, sitting there in the dim light, your soft breathing evening out against his side, something shifted.

And he wasn’t sure he could ever shift it back.

Your breath was steady, your warmth pressed lightly against him, and for a moment, Jake thought you had fully drifted off.

But then, just as he was about to return his attention to the book, you stirred slightly, shifting against his side.

Your voice, quiet and laced with sleep, barely broke the hush of the library.

"Wake me up in fifteen minutes?"

You mumbled the words, your voice slurring just the tiniest bit.

Jake stilled.

He looked down at you, watching as your eyelashes fluttered against your cheek, your breathing slow and deep. The way you said it—so trusting, so unguarded—made something warm unfurl in his chest.

He exhaled softly, barely above a whisper, but there was no mistaking the tenderness in his voice when he responded.

"Sure, omega. Sure."

It was the softest he had ever spoken. The gentlest he had ever let himself be.

Jake didn’t know if you heard it, if your drowsy mind even registered the way his voice had dipped into something almost tame.

But he didn’t care.

Because as you let out a content sigh, sinking just a little bit further into his side, he knew one thing for certain—

Fifteen minutes wouldn't be enough.

The library stayed still, the only sound a distant rustle of pages. Late afternoon light streamed through tall windows, casting a warm glow over your hidden corner.

Jake, who had only meant to let you rest for fifteen minutes, had somehow drifted off himself.

His breathing was even, his frame relaxed, and without realizing it, he had shifted closer. His head had dipped, resting atop yours, while your body had curled just slightly into his side.

The scent of oranges and pine surrounded you, warmer now, softened by sleep, no longer laced with the bitterness from earlier.

For the first time that day, everything felt at peace.

Until your eyelids fluttered open.

You blinked slowly, your body still heavy with sleep. The warmth against you registered first, followed by the weight on your head. It took your drowsy mind a moment to process that Jake had fallen asleep, too—that you had both somehow ended up nestled against each other.

Your cheeks warmed instantly.

Careful not to wake him, you shifted, his uniform brushing against your skin. Slowly, you reached into your skirt pocket, fingers curling around your phone. You turned the screen on—

And immediately panicked.

You had overslept.

By an hour.

Your breath hitched, and you nearly jolted upright, but Jake stirred at the movement, a quiet sigh leaving his lips.

You froze.

His head shifted slightly against yours before settling once more, his arm now loosely resting against your side, as if unconsciously keeping you in place.

Your heart was practically in your throat.

You should wake him up. You needed to wake him up.

You hesitated, phone still clutched in your hand as you weighed your options.

Jake was still fast asleep, his breathing slow and steady, completely at ease for the first time all day.

Something about that made you pause.

Carefully, despite the awkward angle, you tilted your head up just slightly—just enough to get a proper look at him.

And for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

Up close, he looked softer, more serene than the composed, ever-efficient student council secretary he always presented himself as. His brows, usually furrowed in focus, were relaxed. His long lashes rested gently against his skin, and his lips, often pressed into a firm line, were now slightly parted.

Even his scent of warm oranges and fresh pine seemed calmer now, no longer edged with irritation or exhaustion.

You swallowed, feeling your heart skip a beat.

Jake had always been handsome, but there was something about seeing him like this, unguarded, peaceful—that made your stomach twist in a way you didn’t quite know how to handle.

The logical part of you knew you had to wake him up. It was already late, and staying like this any longer would only make things worse.

But a part of you, the part that wasn’t ready to let go of this warmth just yet, hesitated.

He just looked so… at peace.

Yet you let out a soft sigh before gently nudging his shoulder. “Jake,” you murmured, voice hushed in the quiet of the library.

He stirred slightly, a low hum escaping him as his lashes fluttered, struggling against the remnants of sleep. His brows furrowed, and he shifted, blinking a few times as if trying to register where he was.

Then, his body tensed.

The realization of just how close you were hit him all at once—your warmth pressed against his side, your head resting against his shoulder, his own head tilted atop yours. His breath hitched as he sat up slightly, eyes widening.

“S—Sorry,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t—I mean, I didn’t mean to—”

You waved a hand, amused. “It’s fine. You looked like you needed that rest.”

Jake blinked, processing your words before exhaling, ruffling his already tousled hair. “Shit… What time is it?”

“Almost six,” you replied, stretching slightly.

His eyes widened slightly as he ran a hand through his hair again, the weight of lost time settling in. “Shit. Did I keep you in here? Don’t you have anything to do?”

You shook your head. “No, there’s a different student covering the night shift," you explained. “Library closes at eight anyway.”

Jake hummed in acknowledgment, but then you sighed, leaning back slightly.

“Great,” you muttered sarcastically.

Jake frowned. “What?”

You huffed. “I have no one to pick me up.”

Jake blinked at you for a moment before tilting his head, expression unreadable. “Huh?”

He didn’t say anything at first, just studying you, but there was something about the way his gaze lingered.

The Alpha tilted his head slightly, brows furrowing in confusion. “Wait, why don’t you just drive?”

You blinked at him before letting out a small laugh, shaking your head. “My car isn't here.”

Jake still looked puzzled. “Don’t you have a driver?”

You sighed, leaning back against the loveseat. “It’s my designated driver’s day off,” you explained. “So, I had to hitch a ride with a friend this morning.”

Jake hummed, nodding slowly, but when you casually mentioned her name, his eyes flickered with surprise.

“Oh,” he said, blinking. “You’re friends with Heeseung’s mate?”

You nodded with a small smile, amused by the way his expression changed, like he was processing that information and filing it away for later. “Yeah,” you replied. “We’ve been close for a while.”

Jake let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “Huh. Small world.”

“You sound surprised,” you teased, raising a brow at him.

He shrugged, a ghost of a smirk playing at his lips. “I mean, kind of? I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

“Why?” you asked, tilting your head.

Jake scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t know," he admitted. “It’s just—Heeseung’s mate is usually around him or the others. I’ve never really seen her with you.”

You grinned. “That’s because we hang out outside of school.”

Jake let out an amused huff. “Figures.” He leaned back against the bookshelf, arms crossed. “So, you really have no way of getting home?”

You sighed dramatically, resting your head against the back of the loveseat. “Nope. Stuck here until I figure something out.”

Jake clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “That’s great,” he muttered, his tone laced with sarcasm.

“Right?” you replied, just as sarcastically. “Super great. Love this for me.”

Jake shifted in his seat, hesitating for a moment. You watched as his fingers tapped idly against his arm, his lips pressing into a thin line like he was debating something in his head.

Then, finally, he sighed through his nose and ran a hand through his hair. “I could drive you,” he said, but there was an unusual softness to his voice, like he was testing the waters.

You blinked up at him, caught slightly off guard. “You?”

“Yeah,” he said, but he looked like he was second-guessing himself. “I mean—only if you’re okay with that. If you’d rather call someone else or wait, that’s fine, too.” He shrugged, aiming for nonchalance, but the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes gave him away. “I just figured… it’d be better than being stuck here.”

You hesitated, not because you didn’t want to accept, but because he looked unsure, like he wanted to help but didn’t want to overstep.

A small smile tugged at your lips as you shook your head. “No, I mean—if you’re offering, I won’t say no.”

Jake exhaled, something in his posture easing at your words. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “That would actually be really helpful.”

His lips quirked up slightly, and he nodded. “Alright. Let’s get out of here, then.”

Jake stood up from the leather loveseat, stretching his arms slightly before turning to you with a playful glint in his eyes. With an exaggerated gesture, he extended his hand toward you, palm up, and dipped his head slightly.

“After you, (Y/N)—the ever-so-pretty Omega,” he teased, his voice dripping with mock formality.

You laughed, rolling your eyes but still taking his hand as you played along. “Why, thank you, my kind Alpha," you replied, matching his tone with an amused smirk.

As your fingers briefly brushed against his, Jake let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re something else,” he muttered, but there was no bite to his words—only a quiet fondness he wasn’t sure he was ready to acknowledge yet.

As you both stepped outside the hidden reading nook, the warm glow of the setting sun filtered through the library windows. The golden light painted long shadows across the floor, making the whole place feel even more serene.

Just as you reached the front doors, you suddenly stopped and turned to Jake. “Wait here for a second,” you told him, motioning for him to stay put.

Jake furrowed his brows. “Where are you going?”

You pointed toward the reception desk. “I need to grab my bag. I’ll be quick.”

He nodded, leaning casually against the doorframe as he watched you jog over. You made your way to the desk, where the student taking over the night shift was already setting up for her hours ahead. She glanced up as you approached, blinking in surprise before a teasing grin spread across her face.

“So… you and Jake, huh?” she mused, raising a knowing brow as she handed you your bag.

You blinked before letting out a laugh, waving a hand dismissively. “Oh, please,” you scoffed. “It’s not like that.”

She hummed, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Sure. You do know he’s waiting for you by the door like a damn gentleman, right? That’s Alpha behavior if I’ve ever seen it.”

You rolled your eyes, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “He’s just giving me a ride home. That’s all.”

She smirked, resting her chin on her palm. “Mhm. And I’m just a regular student who doesn’t notice things.”

Shaking your head, you turned away, laughing under your breath. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you called over your shoulder.

“Tell Jake I said hi,” she teased back, making you shake your head again with a smile as you returned to the entrance.

Jake glanced at you as you rejoined him. “Took you long enough,” he said, though there was no actual bite to his tone.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Patience, Jake.”

He scoffed, but then reached out, tugging your bag off your shoulder before you could react. “Here, let me.”

You blinked at him. “Jake, I can carry my own bag.”

“I know,” he said easily, slinging it over his own shoulder like it weighed nothing. “But I want to.”

He pushed open the library doors with a smirk. “Let’s get going.”

You only grinned, stepping outside beside him, the air crisp as the last remnants of daylight clung to the sky.

The car ride home was comfortable, the kind of quiet that wasn’t awkward, just easy. The city lights flickered past as the sky deepened into shades of navy, the last traces of sunset fading beyond the horizon.

You sat snugly in the passenger seat, curled slightly toward Jake as he drove with practiced ease, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually near the gear shift.

“So, mate,” you said, attempting your best Australian accent, dragging the word out obnoxiously. “Where we headin’, aye?”

Jake nearly choked on his laughter. “Oh my god, what was that?”

“My perfect Aussie impression,” you grinned.

He shot you a look, lips twitching. “That was a crime against my entire country.”

“Oi,” you protested, making your voice deeper. “That’s offensive, innit?”

Jake shook his head, amused. “Now you just sound British.”

You burst into laughter, the sound filling the car. Jake just grinned, shaking his head as he made a turn.

“Take a left up here,” you directed, still giggling.

He followed without question, and as the road stretched out before you, the surroundings became quieter, lined with trees and distant estate homes. Soon, large iron gates loomed ahead.

Jake whistled lowly. “Fancy.”

You snorted, shooting him a look before gesturing around the car’s sleek interior. “Oh, please. Stop acting like you’re not used to the same lifestyle.”

Jake smirked, drumming his fingers against the wheel. “Okay, fair point,” he admitted. “But you have to admit, this is some next-level rich.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Says the guy driving a literal sports car.”

Jake chuckled, tapping the wheel. “Touché.”

The soft purr of the engine filled the space as the car eased forward, headlights illuminating the long road ahead. Soon, the massive gates loomed before you, standing tall and pristine under the dimming sky.

Jake took it in, lips quirking. “Still fancy.”

You hummed, reaching for the intercom, but at the last second, an idea sparked. You smirked and leaned back. “You do it.”

Jake raised a brow. “Me?”

You nodded, barely holding back a grin. “Just say… special delivery.”

He gave you a look, but the amusement in his eyes was unmistakable. With a small shake of his head, he rolled down the window and pressed the call button. A second later, a static click sounded.

“Special delivery,” Jake said smoothly, voice rich with amusement.

There was a brief pause—then, with a soft beep, the gates creaked open.

You burst out laughing, leaning back in your seat. Jake just shook his head as he pulled forward, a chuckle slipping past his lips.

“I don’t know what’s worse,” he mused. “That it actually worked or that you set me up for it.”

“You just have that kind of voice,” you teased, still grinning.

Jake smirked, flicking his gaze toward you. “Oh yeah? You like my voice that much?”

You groaned, reaching over to shove his arm. “Drive, Sim.”

As the gates opened fully, Jake eased the car forward, and the moment you passed through, the estate unfolded before him like something straight out of a movie.

The long driveway was paved with smooth cobblestone, flanked by lush, towering trees that cast intricate shadows beneath the soft glow of vintage-style street lamps.

Vibrant flower beds lined the path, a carefully curated mix of imported and native flora blooming in perfect harmony. The air smelled fresh, carried by the evening breeze.

Jake let out a low whistle as he took in the sight, his fingers drumming against the wheel. “Alright, I take it back. This is next-level rich.”

You smirked, watching his expression shift as you approached the heart of the estate. “Mhmm.”

The trees eventually gave way to a pristine white mansion that stood tall against the twilight sky. The grand structure was illuminated by soft golden lights, casting a warm glow against the cool evening.

Right in the middle of the circular driveway, a massive, intricately designed fountain stood proudly, water cascading from its tiers in a soothing rhythm.

Jake’s gaze flicked to the various luxury and imported sports cars parked carelessly around the front, some you recognized as your family’s, others belonging to guests or relatives who were likely visiting.

At that, Jake let out a scoff, shaking his head with an amused smile. “Okay, now this just reminds me of our house.”

You hummed, tilting your head slightly as you glanced at him. “Told you.”

He snorted. “Our parents really went all out, didn’t they?”

“They always do.” You sighed, leaning back into your seat. “Big houses, big cars, big expectations.”

Jake glanced at you briefly before turning back to the road, guiding the car toward the entrance. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice softer. “Big everything.”

There was a moment of silence, the quiet hum of the car filling the space.

Then, in true Jake fashion, he smirked. “But, to be fair, at least we’re not the ones worrying about car maintenance.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “Small mercies, Sim. Small mercies.”

Before you could even reach for the door handle, Jake suddenly clicked his tongue. “Nope.”

You blinked at him just as he unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out in one swift motion. His door shut with a quiet thud, and within seconds, he was already rounding the front of the car, effortlessly smooth as always.

The moment he pulled open the passenger door for you, he grinned. “Go on, princess. Fancy estates require fancy treatment.”

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head in amusement as you took his offered hand and stepped out onto the driveway. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“And yet, you keep me around,” he quipped, the corners of his eyes crinkling with that familiar, boyish smile.

Before you could fire back a response, the large wooden doors of the mansion suddenly swung open. The warm glow of the foyer lights spilled onto the marble steps, casting long shadows across the pristine entryway.

Standing in the doorway was your mother, poised yet undeniably elegant, dressed in a silk blouse and tailored pants. The usual sharpness in her gaze was softened, just slightly—with both worry and amusement as her eyes flickered between you and Jake, who was still casually holding your hand.

Her lips quirked up the slightest bit. “Well,” she mused, arms crossing. “It seems you’ve had quite the evening.”

Jake, ever the charmer, straightened up, offering a polite yet playful smile. “Good evening, Mrs. (L/N),” he greeted smoothly, his posture changing into something more formal yet undeniably confident.

You, on the other hand, simply sighed and shot him a look before turning to your mother. “Mom, please don’t start.”

Your mother let out a light laugh, though her eyes still held traces of concern. “I wasn’t going to.” Then, her gaze flickered to Jake’s sleek black sports car parked in the driveway. “I suppose I should be grateful you didn’t arrive in something flashier, Mr. Sim.”

Jake blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Wait, how do you know me?”

Your mother let out a soft laugh, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, Jake, dear. I’ve known you since you were in diapers.”

You and Jake exchanged equally confused glances before looking back at her.

Your mother smirked knowingly. “Your parents and I have been friends for years. We see each other at events all the time. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed.”

Jake scoffed in disbelief, rubbing the back of his neck. “Huh. Well, that’s news to me.” Then, he turned to you, raising a brow. “Did you know about this?”

You simply shrugged. “Nope.”

Jake let out an amused chuckle, shaking his head. “Figures.”

Your mother, still thoroughly entertained, placed a hand on her hip. “Well, now that we’ve established that, how about you join us for dinner? I’m sure you’ve had a long day.”

Jake straightened slightly, shifting into that polite, well-mannered version of himself that only surfaced in formal settings. “I appreciate the offer, ma’am,” he said smoothly, voice respectful but firm. “But my parents are expecting me back home soon.”

Your mother hummed, nodding in understanding. “That’s a shame. Maybe next time, then.”

“Definitely,” Jake agreed with a small grin before turning back to you. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “Yeah. Drive safe, Jake.”

He gave you a two-finger salute before slipping back into his sleek black sports car. The engine purred to life, the sound low and smooth, as he backed out of the pristine driveway.

You didn’t move, not even when the taillights faded into the distance. You waited until his car was completely out of sight before finally turning toward the open doorway.

The moment you stepped inside, your mother wasted no time.

“So,” she drawled, shutting the door behind you with a smirk that spelled nothing but trouble. “Jake Sim, huh?”

You sighed. “Mom.”

“What?” she asked, feigning innocence as she followed you further into the house. “He’s handsome. And he clearly dotes on you.”

“Mom.”

“Oh, and the way he opened the door for you? Adorable.”

You sighed dramatically, running a hand through your hair as you kicked off your shoes by the entrance. “Mom, I just met him—literally today.”

Your mother raised a perfectly manicured brow, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned against the grand staircase railing. The warm chandelier light made the gold accents of her jewelry glint as she smirked at you. “Well, he certainly doesn’t act like it,” she quipped. “That boy was looking at you like an Alpha who’s been courting you for years.”

Your jaw dropped. “Mom! That is not—”

She cut you off with a knowing laugh, waving a dismissive hand. “Oh, sweetheart, please. The way he opened your door? The way he stood just a little too close while you were talking?” She shook her head with mock disbelief. “And you’re telling me you just met?”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “I swear, you’re worse than Dad.”

Your mom gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. “Excuse me?” Then, with a knowing smile, she added, “Speaking of your father, I’m pretty sure he’d approve of Jake.”

You stared at her, utterly exasperated. “Oh my god.”

She grinned. “What? He’s well-mannered, respectful, and from a good family. Plus, he drives a nice car. You know how your father feels about cars.”

You groaned louder, turning on your heel. “I’m going to bed before you start planning our wedding.”

“Oh, don’t tempt me!” she called out, amusement laced in her voice. Then, just as you reached your door, she added, “You'd make a cute pair, don’t you think?”

You slammed your door shut as her laughter echoed down the hall.

Lunch had just begun, and the halls buzzed with the usual midday energy, students spilling out of classrooms, voices overlapping, shoes scuffing against the polished floors. Jake walked alongside his usual group, all casually making their way toward the cafeteria.

“Man, I am starving,” Jay groaned, stretching his arms. “What’s for lunch today?”

“Something fancy, probably,” Sunghoon replied with a shrug. “They said it’s steak.”

Ni-ki perked up at that. “Oh, hell yeah.”

“I hope it’s actually good steak,” Sunoo chimed in, adjusting his bag strap. “Not the rubbery kind they sometimes serve.”

The group chuckled, but Jake wasn’t paying much attention. His hands were tucked into his pockets, his gaze subtly scanning the hallway. It wasn’t obvious, he wasn’t desperate or anything, but he noticed the lack of a certain presence.

You weren’t there. It was weird. He hadn’t even known you for that long, yet your absence was noticeable.

His phone remained silent in his pocket, no texts or missed calls from you.

“Hey, we’re going,” Jungwon called over his shoulder as the group neared the cafeteria entrance.

Jake hesitated. “Actually,” he said, slowing his steps, “I need to finish up some paperwork. I’ll eat later.”

That got their attention.

Sunoo immediately narrowed his eyes. “You always say that.”

“Yeah, bro, what’s new?” Heeseung added, shaking his head.

Jay sighed, already tired. “Dude, just go. We all know you won’t eat properly if you’re buried in council work.”

“Exactly,” Sunghoon agreed. “We’d rather deal with you now than later when you’re sleep-deprived and grumpy.”

Jake waved them off lazily. “Yeah, yeah,” he shot them a grin before turning in the opposite direction. But instead of heading toward the council office, he found himself walking toward the library.

The moment he stepped inside, the atmosphere was different, it was quieter, calmer, with the faint scent of books in the air. His sharp eyes scanned the room, expecting to find you tucked away in your usual corner.

But you weren’t there.

He frowned slightly.

Instead, his gaze landed on the student librarian at the front desk, the same one who had seen you leaving with him last night. She noticed him instantly, and before he could even say a word, a slow, knowing grin stretched across her face.

Jake narrowed his eyes. He already didn’t like that look. “Where is she?” he asked, his tone neutral but firm.

The grin only widened. “Oh? Looking for someone, Sim?”

Jake exhaled sharply, unimpressed. “Her classroom. What floor?”

The student hummed, resting her chin on her palm. “And why would I tell you that?”

Jake leveled her with a flat stare. “Because I’m asking nicely.”

She clicked her tongue, dragging out the moment just to mess with him.

“Third floor,” she finally relented, her grin turning smug. “Room 3-A.”

Jake didn’t waste another second. Without another word, he turned on his heel, already making his way out.

But even as he left, he could still hear her barely suppressed laughter behind him.

Jake wasn’t the type to go looking for people. If anything, people usually came looking for him, whether it was for council matters, social obligations, or just random confessions.

But today, instead of heading to lunch with the boys, he found himself climbing the stairs to the third floor, hands tucked into his pockets.

The student librarian had given him your classroom number with an all-too-knowing grin, and now, standing outside the door to Room 3-A, he was met with a scene that made him pause.

You were surrounded.

Not just by one or two people, but by half the classroom. Some perched on desks, others standing, leaning in with animated grins as they listened intently to whatever you were saying.

Laughter echoed through the space, loud and infectious. It wasn’t just that you were well-liked, it was that you owned the room without even trying.

The crowd, the attention, the way people gravitated toward you—it wasn’t new. And yet, as his eyes settled on you, a thought crept into his mind.

Did you even notice him standing there?

But then, as if you could sense him, your gaze snapped toward the doorway.

And suddenly, the noise faded into the background.

Despite being completely engrossed in conversation, despite the people practically surrounding you, your focus changed entirely. Your lips, still curled mid-laugh, softened into something more curious.

Jake hadn’t even taken a full step inside before you were already pushing yourself up from your seat, murmuring brief apologies to your friends as you effortlessly slipped through the crowd.

You reached him within seconds, tilting your head with a knowing smile. “Didn’t see you in the library.”

Jake’s lips twitched. “Yeah, well. That’s ‘cause you weren’t there.”

A teasing glint flashed in your eyes. “So you were looking for me.”

He scoffed lightly, shaking his head. “Something like that.”

Behind you, a whistle cut through the air. “Damn,” one of your classmates muttered. “Didn’t think Sim was into you.”

Jake didn’t acknowledge the comment, but he didn’t need to. You rolled your eyes before half-turning to shoot them an unimpressed look. “Oh, shut up.”

When you turned back, Jake was still watching you.

His gaze flickered over your face, assessing, before he finally tilted his head slightly. “You free?”

You blinked. “For?”

“Lunch.”

A beat of silence. Then—

“You’re inviting me to lunch?” you asked, amusement evident in your tone.

Jake smirked, rocking back on his heels. “I know. Big honor.”

You scoffed, playfully smacking his arm. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Maybe.” He nodded toward the door. “C’mon.”

You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head slightly before casting a glance over your shoulder—because, of course, your classmates were still very much watching. Some wore wide grins, others exchanged glances, and a few were whispering among themselves.

“Guess I’ll be back later,” you announced, sending them a wink before turning back to Jake.

And just like that, he was leading you out the door, the sound of hushed murmurs and not-so-subtle giggles trailing behind you.

The cafeteria was alive with the hum of conversation, the clatter of trays, and the occasional burst of laughter from groups of students huddled around their tables. The sheer size of the place should have made it feel open, but with the lunchtime rush in full swing, it felt like everyone was packed in shoulder to shoulder.

Jake barely hesitated before placing his hand on the small of your back again, guiding you through the crowd with effortless ease. It was instinctual, like he had to make sure you weren’t swallowed up in the mass of students.

The heat of his touch seeped through the thin fabric of your uniform, grounding and steady, but most of all, familiar.

You didn’t move away.

You didn’t want to.

If anything, your body naturally gravitated closer to him, and that realization alone sent a rush of warmth to your cheeks.

Jake, of course, was completely unbothered. He wasn’t even looking at you, his gaze flickered across the cafeteria, scanning the area, before muttering, “You’d think with a cafeteria this big, it wouldn’t feel so cramped.”

His voice was casual, like he wasn’t currently touching you like it was second nature.

You swallowed, trying to will away the warmth creeping up your neck. “What, don’t tell me you’re scared of a little crowd, Sim?”

Jake scoffed, glancing at you with a smirk. “Scared? No. Annoyed? Absolutely.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Such a prince, huh? What’s next? Gonna demand a private table?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

You gave him a look, lips twitching. “Wow. I thought you were the chill one in your group.”

Jake placed a hand over his chest, feigning offense. “I am chill.”

You raised a brow. “You’re literally guiding me through a cafeteria like we’re dodging landmines.”

He shot you a lazy grin. “That’s not me being not chill. That’s me making sure you don’t trip over some random first year’s backpack.”

You snorted. “Sure, Sim. Whatever you say.”

The line moved forward, and Jake’s hand, still warm and very much there, pressed just slightly, nudging you along with him.

The air between you two was light, playful, but underlined with something else, something neither of you was fully acknowledging yet.

Jake didn’t remove his hand, and you… well, you let him.

The line continued moving, and when you finally reached the food counter, he casually leaned in a little closer. “What are you getting?” The way his voice dipped slightly, like he was asking something personal, made your stomach flip.

You blinked, shaking yourself out of it. “Uh. Probably just whatever they have today.”

Jake raised a brow, amused. “That’s not very specific.”

You shrugged. “I’m not picky.”

He gave you a knowing look. “Right. I’ll believe that when I see it.”

You turned to him, narrowing your eyes. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Jake only smirked, looking far too smug for your liking. “Nothing, nothing.”

“No, say it.” You crossed your arms, facing him fully now.

He exhaled a laugh, tilting his head slightly. “I just feel like you have your little food preferences. Probably avoid certain textures. Maybe you don’t like overly salty stuff?”

You blinked. “…Okay, but how do you know that?”

Jake’s smirk widened. “So I am right?”

You clicked your tongue, rolling your eyes, but there was no real annoyance in it. If anything, the fact that he’d picked up on something so small about you after barely a day of knowing you was a little too endearing.

Jake, on the other hand, looked very pleased with himself.

The two of you finally reached the counter, and just as you were about to grab a tray, Jake casually plucked one up first—then handed it to you.

His fingers barely brushed against yours, but it was enough to send a jolt of awareness through your entire arm.

Your breath hitched.

Jake, however, was unfazed. “See? Not picky, but definitely predictable.”

You scoffed, snatching the tray from his hands. “I hate you.”

Jake just grinned. “Nah, you don’t.”

And damn it, he was right.

The two of you moved through the rest of the line with that same easy back-and-forth, Jake making little comments about your food choices while you shot back with equally teasing remarks. By the time you had your trays and turned toward the seating area, you realized something—

Most of the tables were already packed.

Clusters of students filled every available space, some standing and chatting with friends, others laughing loudly, their voices echoing through the massive cafeteria.

Jake scanned the room briefly, his sharp eyes flicking over the crowd before they landed on a relatively empty table tucked into a corner near one of the large windows. He didn’t hesitate—just placed his free hand on the small of your back again and guided you toward it without a word.

Your breath caught for a split second, but you didn’t pull away.

It was so effortless, the way he touched you—like he’d done it a million times before, like it was just natural for him to steer you through a crowded space. The warmth of his palm against your lower back was firm but not forceful, steadying yet entirely casual.

And the worst part?

You liked it.

Maybe a little too much.

You felt your face heating up again, but before you could dwell on it, Jake spoke.

“Looks like the guys disappeared on me,” he mused as you both reached the table, setting his tray down before pulling out a chair for you.

The gesture was so smooth, so instinctive, that it took you a second to react.

You blinked at him. “…Are you always this much of a gentleman?”

Jake let out a soft chuckle, his lips curling into a smirk as he leaned slightly over the chair. “Only for people who don’t make me carry both our trays.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips as you sat down. “I could’ve carried my own, you know.”

Jake simply shrugged, taking his seat across from you. “Sure. But where’s the fun in that?”

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head before picking up your utensils. “Anyway, maybe your friends just assumed you’d be too busy drowning in council work to eat. You are kind of a workaholic.”

Jake raised an eyebrow as he unwrapped his utensils. “Oh? And you know this how?”

You gave him a pointed look. “You just told me earlier that you literally ditched them earlier by saying you had to ‘finish up papers.’”

Jake exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Technically, I didn’t lie. I do have papers to go through later.”

You snorted. “Right. And you just so happened to show up at my classroom instead.”

Jake’s eyes gleamed with amusement as he took a casual bite of his food. “Just a coincidence.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Mhm. Sure.”

He grinned. “What, can’t a guy take a break and conveniently end up where you are?”

Your fork paused midair.

The teasing lilt in his voice was undeniable, but there was something else there, something almost too deliberate in the way he said it. Like he wanted you to catch it. Like he was testing the waters.

And the worst part? It was working.

You quickly stuffed a bite of food into your mouth to distract from the way your stomach flipped at his words.

Jake just chuckled, clearly entertained by your reaction.

The two of you ate in comfortable silence for a moment, the chatter of the cafeteria buzzing around you. The corner you’d picked was quieter, a little more secluded, with sunlight streaming through the large windows beside you. It was… oddly peaceful.

Then, out of nowhere, Jake spoke again.

“I meant what I said, by the way.”

You glanced up, chewing slowly. “…About what?”

His eyes held yours. “That I don’t mind this.”

You swallowed. “This?”

Jake rested his elbow on the table, propping his chin up with his hand. “Eating with you.”

Your heartbeat stuttered.

It was such a simple statement, but the way he said it, the way he looked at you when he did—yeah, you were in trouble.

You quickly looked down at your plate, pretending to focus on your food.

Instead of commenting, he just smiled to himself, shaking his head slightly before picking up his fork again.

But the knowing glint in his eyes told you otherwise.

And damn it, you had a feeling he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

The afternoon sun stretched golden across the field, casting a warm glow over the wide expanse of green. A light breeze rustled through the trees, carrying the crisp scent of grass and the faintest traces of sweat as Jake and Sunghoon tossed the football back and forth.

It was their free period, a rare chance to unwind and let their inner Alphas stretch a little without the weight of expectations pressing down on them.

Jake rolled his shoulders, catching the ball with ease before spinning it in his hands. “Think you can handle a real pass this time?”

Sunghoon scoffed, adjusting his stance. “Think you can throw one?”

Jake smirked, cocking his arm back and sending the ball soaring through the air—

But the second it left his hands, so did every ounce of his focus.

Your scent.

It drifted through the open halls beside the field, laced with something warm that settled into his chest like second nature. Jake’s head turned on instinct, drawn toward the source before he could even process why.

And there you were.

Walking side by side with Jungwon’s mate, your laughter trailing through the breeze.

Jake barely registered the thud of the football landing in Sunghoon’s grip. His attention was fixed entirely on you, the way you were so effortlessly blending into his world without even trying.

He felt something shift inside him, soft, warm, and dangerously easy to get used to.

Because it wasn’t just that it was you, though that alone was enough to mess with his pulse. It was the fact that you were comfortable, that you were talking and laughing with Jungwon’s mate, someone who had already been claimed, someone who was already part of the pack in a way that felt permanent.

And for some reason, seeing you like this, seeing you so naturally fall into step with people who had already been solidified in his life, it made something deep inside him settle.

Like a puzzle piece clicking into place. Like you belonged here.

Sunghoon’s voice barely cut through his daze. “Finally, a decent throw.”

Jake blinked, shaking himself out of it, but the warmth in his chest didn’t fade.

His hand twitched at his side, itching to reach for something, to act on something—but he didn’t even know what. His Alpha stirred, entirely content just from the sight of you.

He swallowed thickly. Then, suddenly, he was moving.

“I gotta—” Jake’s voice came out rushed, unsteady, as he took a step back. “Bathroom.”

Sunghoon didn’t even glance at him, too busy tossing the ball in the air. “Sure, whatever.”

Jake was already halfway across the field, already walking toward you.

The moment Jake started walking, he knew there was no stopping himself.

It wasn’t a conscious decision, his body just moved, drawn toward you like an invisible force had wrapped itself around his chest and tugged.

You hadn’t even noticed him yet, too caught up in whatever conversation you were having. Your expression was relaxed, your smile easy. The sight made something in Jake unravel, it was stupid, really, how soft he felt over something so simple.

But then, as if you could feel him coming, you glanced up.

Your eyes met his, and Jake swore he felt his heart stumble. Recognition flashed across your face, quickly followed by a small, surprised smile. “Jake?”

Jungwon’s mate turned as well, blinking in confusion. “Oh, hey! What are you doing here?”

Jake barely acknowledged her, his attention locked solely on you. “Free period,” he said, voice smooth but just a little quieter than usual. “I was training with Sunghoon.”

Your gaze flickered past him toward the field, where Sunghoon was still casually tossing the football in the air, completely unbothered.

“And now?” you asked, tilting your head.

Jake huffed a small breath, as if he hadn’t just abandoned practice the second he caught your scent. “Now I’m here.”

You raised an eyebrow. “For?”

Jake hesitated for half a second, then shrugged, a lopsided smirk tugging at his lips. “For you.”

Your breath hitched just slightly, but Jake caught it. And so did his inner Alpha, the presence inside him practically preening at the reaction.

Jungwon’s mate, completely noticing the tension settling between you two, let out a knowing hum. “Well, that’s my cue to leave.” She shot you a teasing look before waving. “See you later!”

You barely managed a nod before they slipped away, leaving you and Jake standing there, just looking at each other.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, slowly, Jake took another step closer, close enough that your scent wrapped around him fully. Close enough that he could see the faint pink dusting your cheeks, the way your fingers twitched slightly at your sides.

“Where are you headed?” he asked, his voice smooth, casual. Like he wasn’t completely invading your plans right now.

You tried to answer. Really, you did. But your brain was malfunctioning.

Because—goddamn.

Jake wasn’t in his usual navy blazer, and the absence of it shouldn’t have been this distracting, but it was. His white button-up was slightly rumpled, the top few buttons left undone, exposing just a hint of skin. His tie was loosened around his neck, his sleeves lazily rolled up to his elbows, and worst of all—his scent was stronger than ever.

The crisp bite of pine mixed with the warmth of oranges, fresh and intoxicating, like stepping into the woods after a summer rain. It wrapped around you, pulled you in, made your head feel lighter..

You swallowed, forcing your eyes forward before you got caught staring. “Uh—” Get it together, damn it. “Library.”

Jake hummed, slipping his hands into his pockets as he walked beside you. “Studying?”

“Something like that,” you muttered, still trying to focus on walking and not the way his arm brushed yours every now and then.

Jake glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. “You okay?”

No. Absolutely not.

But you weren’t about to admit that.

“Yeah,” you said, clearing your throat. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Jake tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering in his gaze. “No reason. You just seem… distracted.”

You almost scowled. He knew. Of course he knew. His Alpha was probably reveling in it, preening at the fact that his scent was affecting you this much.

“Must be the heat,” you lied, pressing your lips together.

Jake exhaled a quiet laugh, low and knowing. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice dipping just enough to make your pulse jump.

The Alpha barely gave you a second to react before he was reaching for the books in your arms, smoothly plucking them from your grasp like they weren’t heavy at all.

“Jake—” You blinked, startled.

“You look like you’re about to drop these,” he said simply, adjusting the books against his hip with one arm. The other hand went to your shoulder, sliding the strap of your very, very girly bag off like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Your mouth opened, then closed. “Jake, that’s—”

He swung the bag onto his shoulder without even flinching.

It was pastel. It had bows. A tiny stuffed bear keychain dangled from the zipper, and the fabric smelled very obviously like you.

Jake didn’t even blink.

You, on the other hand, were short-circuiting. “What,” you finally choked out.

Jake peered down at you, unfazed. “What?”

You pointed, staring at the bag hanging on his shoulder. “That.”

He shrugged, completely unbothered. “What about it?”

“Jake, you’re holding my bag.”

Another shrug. “And?”

You stared at him. “It has bows.”

Jake smirked. “Cute.”

Your brain stopped functioning. “It’s pink.”

“Your point?”

You inhaled sharply, your hands flying up in exasperation. “You don’t care?”

Jake raised a brow. “Why would I?”

You huffed, actually huffed as you let your arms fall to your sides. “Because—because you’re literally walking around like that, unbothered, like you don’t have my pink, bow-covered, stuffed-animal-having bag slung over your shoulder—”

Jake leaned down a little, smirking. “Would it bother you if I cared?”

You gaped at him, caught completely off guard.

You hated how easily he did that, how easily he could flip the entire conversation on its head and make you feel ridiculous for even bringing it up.

“No,” you muttered, pressing your lips together. “It wouldn’t.”

Jake chuckled. “Then it’s not a problem, is it?”

And just like that, he straightened up, walking like he wasn’t carrying an entire armful of your things, including your very feminine, very obvious bag.

You? You were still recovering.

And somehow, you just knew, from the way Jake’s scent curled around you in smug amusement, from the way his lips kept twitching at your stunned silence—yeah, he was enjoying every second of this.

Jake didn’t even spare a glance back toward the field. Whatever Sunghoon was thinking, probably something along the lines of: where the hell did he go?

He should have gone back. He should have at least tossed Sunghoon a quick text to say he got caught up. But the moment he saw you, saw the way you were laughing with Jungwon’s mate, saw the way the sunlight hit your face just right, any thought of returning to training vanished.

Sunghoon would figure it out. Eventually.

The next day, the moment the final bell rang, the hallway buzzed with noise, students shuffling to their lockers, conversations overlapping, and plans forming for the rest of the afternoon.

Jake stretched his arms above his head, rolling his shoulders as he walked alongside Heeseung. “Man, I need something sweet,” Heeseung muttered, eyes glued to his phone. “Let’s stop by the café real quick before we head back.”

Jake hummed in agreement, barely listening. His hands were shoved in his pockets, steps lazy and unhurried, until he saw you.

You stood by your locker, fingers moving as you fixed your books and reorganized your things. Strands of hair fell over your face as you reached up to adjust the top shelf, completely unaware of the way Jake’s attention had locked onto you like a magnet.

Like his feet had a mind of their own, walking past you wasn’t an option. He lifted a hand, waving Heeseung off without a word.

Heeseung, still distracted by whatever was on his phone, just nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Jake took that as his cue and started walking.

He changed course, slipping away so smoothly it was like he had never been walking beside Heeseung in the first place. Within seconds, he was ten feet away from where they had been.

Heeseung didn’t even notice.

Jake stopped right beside you, leaning casually against the lockers. “Need some help?”

You glanced up, slightly startled. “Jake? What happened to—weren’t you with Heeseung?”

Jake smirked. “Was I?”

You blinked. “…Yes?”

Jake just shrugged, reaching out and taking the book you were about to shove into your bag. Without hesitation, he slung your very girly, very bow-covered bag over his shoulder like it was nothing. The sight of it against his unbuttoned navy blazer, his loosened navy tie, and the lazy confidence in his stance, was almost comical.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Jake.”

“Hm?”

“You ditched him.”

His grin was shameless. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Jake—”

“Come on,” he cut in smoothly, already turning to walk with you. “Where are you headed?”

You huffed, shutting your locker. “The student council room.”

Jake raised a brow, a flicker of curiosity crossing his features. “Huh. Didn’t know you were suddenly on council duty.”

You shot him a look. “I’m not. Our class treasurer forgot to submit a report on the budget, so I’m doing it.”

His expression changed, something playful settling in his gaze. “And you didn’t ask me for help?”

You rolled your eyes, hugging the folder to your chest. “Jake, you’re the secretary, not the treasurer. Big difference.”

“Still part of it,” he argued, effortlessly matching your pace as you navigated through the crowded hall. “I could’ve at least made sure you weren’t running around like this.”

You scoffed, but before you could respond, you felt the warmth of his hand press lightly against the small of your back. It was a barely-there touch, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Your breath hitched.

Jake, of course, didn’t seem fazed at all. If anything, he was acting like this was normal. Like the heat of his palm wasn’t sending a strange sort of static along your spine.

“What?” he mused, tilting his head slightly when he noticed you stiffen. “Crowded hall. Don’t want you getting lost.”

You swallowed hard, pressing your lips together as you forced yourself to keep walking.

Meanwhile, a few feet behind, Heeseung who had been completely occupied with his phone, glanced up, only to find that Jake had completely disappeared.

His brows furrowed as he scanned the hallway, but all he could see was a familiar fluff of brown hair moving through the crowd.

Heeseung sighed through his nose, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

The student council room was unusually silent.

No soft hum of pages flipping, no quiet muttering as Jake worked through his usual mountain of files, no fresh scent of coffee filling the air like it always did in the morning.

Just… quietness.

Jay walked in first, balancing his drink in one hand, fingers lazily tapping against his phone with the other. "He’s already here, right?" He barely glanced up, expecting the usual scene: Jake at his desk, half-buried in council paperwork, looking vaguely annoyed that they weren’t being as productive as him.

Ni-ki didn’t even bother looking around. "Duh. Jake’s always here first."

Except, Jake wasn’t there.

Jay froze mid-step, blinking at the empty desk. “Wait.” He frowned. “Where the hell is he?”

Ni-ki finally looked up from his phone, expecting Jay to be overreacting, only for his eyes to land on something even weirder, a stack of neatly arranged documents, sitting untouched on Jake’s desk.

It was done.

All of it. Every single piece of work Jake should've been doing this morning had already been signed, stapled, and sorted.

Jay exhaled through his nose, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Okay. So, either he pulled an all-nighter and got his work done ahead of time…” He trailed off before exchanging a look with Ni-ki.

“…Or he figured out how to clone himself,” Ni-ki deadpanned, poking the paperwork like it might vanish into thin air. “Either way, this is freaky.”

Jay barely acknowledged the joke, still staring at the empty seat. “No, but seriously. Where is he?”

Meanwhile, a few blocks away; Jake didn’t even bother looking up as the café door chimed, signaling more students coming in. He barely acknowledged the low murmurs around them, the not-so-subtle glances.

His focus was elsewhere. More specifically, on you.

You were curled slightly forward, fiddling with your drink, your hand resting on his blazer, which was draped across your lap.

He had thrown the blazer over you without a second thought—didn’t even say anything, just casually shrugged it off and placed it there.

Not that you noticed. You were too busy fuming about your morning.

“I mean, seriously,” you huffed, stirring your drink aggressively. “What kind of professor makes a deadline 7 AM sharp? That should be illegal. There should be laws.”

Jake hummed, lazily adjusting the girly pink bag that was currently on his lap. “So you did it last-minute.”

You shot the pureblooded Alpha a look. “No, because if I finished it early, I wouldn’t be this pissed off about it.”

Jake smirked. “Right. So you did do it last-minute.”

You groaned, pressing your forehead against the table dramatically. “Okay, fine, maybe I did finish it at, like, 3 AM, but that’s beside the point.”

Jake took a slow sip of his drink, watching you. “No, I think that’s exactly the point.” His voice was smoother now, teasing. “You could’ve just asked for my help, you know.”

Your head snapped up. “Oh, please. Like I’d let Mr. Secretary do my work for me.”

Jake huffed out a small laugh. “Yeah, but you let me carry your bag.”

You didn’t even blink. “And?”

Jake blinked back.

Because, yeah, he’d been expecting at least some kind of reaction. A scoff, an eye-roll, maybe even a muttered whatever, Sim. But instead, you looked at him like this was just normal. Like him carrying your pink, ribbon-covered, unmistakably girly bag was something he’d done a hundred times before.

Which, now that he thought about it, he kinda had.

Your omega practically preened at the thought.

It felt natural. Comforting.

Like it belonged there, like he belonged there.

And if Jake noticed the way your lips pressed together like you were fighting back a smile? No, he didn’t. Not at all.

Mornings in the council room were always the same. Papers shuffled, chairs scraped against the floor, low murmurs filled the air as the student council members moved through their routine and Jake’s coffee—always lingered in the air, a signal that their secretary had already buried himself in work before anyone else arrived.

Except today, the room smelled normal.

No coffee, no Jake.

Jungwon, seated at his own desk near the window, skimmed through a proposal, his brows furrowed in concentration. Sunoo, half-awake and nursing his iced americano like his life depended on it, peeked up at the clock.

Ni-ki, on the other hand, had been watching the entrance for the past five minutes.

“Where’s golden boy?” he finally muttered, leaning back in his chair, spinning his pen between his fingers.

Jay, sitting at his own table across from Jungwon, barely spared him a glance. “No clue. Probably overslept.”

Heeseung, who had his feet propped up on his desk, scoffed. “Jake? Oversleep? Yeah, right.”

Sunghoon, who had been absentmindedly flipping through his phone, glanced up, unimpressed. “Maybe he finally decided to quit and live a stress-free life. About time.”

The words had barely left his mouth when the door swung open.

Jake strolled in, hands tucked into his pockets, his usual crisp blazer nowhere to be found. The loosened navy tie around his neck hung effortlessly, and his hair was slightly tousled like he’d been outside for too long.

The Alpha wasn't rushed, not groggy, just calm.

And that was already weird: Jake never looked this relaxed in the morning.

Jay barely lifted his head, but his eyes narrowed.

Heeseung blinked, sitting up slightly. Jungwon paused mid-page turn. Sunoo finally looked up from his drink.

Jake, however, didn’t spare them a single glance.

He just walked straight to his desk, set his bag down, and smiled.

Not his usual morning scowl, not the slightly annoyed expression they were used to, and that alone was enough to make the entire room go quiet.

And then—

“You reek of an omega.” Sunghoon’s voice cut through the silence, lazy but pointed.

Jake didn’t even look up, he didn’t tense, he didn’t acknowledge it. He just shrugged. “New perfume.”

Jay immediately put his pen down.

Sunoo, blinking, looked at Jungwon, then at Jake again. Ni-ki, having just taken a sip of his drink, nearly choked.

“Perfume?” Jungwon repeated, skeptical.

“Yeah,” Jake hummed, still not looking at them. “Wanted to try something different.”

And honestly, it would’ve been believable.

Jake wore cologne. That much was true. But not this. Not this soft. It wasn’t sharp like his usual clean, expensive scent.

It was warmer. Like honey and seawater, subtle but distinct, the kind of scent that only clung to someone when they’d been too close to an omega for too long.

And in a room filled with pureblooded alphas, it wasn’t something that went unnoticed.

But instead of calling him out, Sunghoon just exhaled through his nose, letting it slide. If some omega had thrown themselves at Jake this morning, it wasn’t exactly surprising.

“Damn,” Ni-ki muttered, shaking his head in amusement. “Didn’t know you had a confession today.”

Jake, finally glancing up, raised a brow. “Huh?”

Sunoo smirked. “The omega. They were all over you, weren’t they?”

Jake just rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you guys are talking about.”

But Jay just stared. Because while the others were making their own assumptions, he noticed things.

Like the way Jake’s shoulders were too loose, the way his usually sharp morning glare had been replaced by something almost smug. The way his fingers lingered just a second longer when he reached for his pen.

Jake was weirdly comfortable, and Jay had a feeling it wasn’t because of some random omega.

It was someone specific. It wouldn't take a genius to acknowledge the fact that his scent was all over a specific omega just as much as theirs was all over him.

That same day, the council room was missing something.

Or rather—someone.

Jungwon tapped a pen against his desk, lips pressing into a thin line as his gaze swept across the room. The usual members were in their usual places, some sorting through reports, others murmuring among themselves. But one chair, in particular, remained empty.

Jake’s.

Jungwon turned to the juniors under the secretary committee, his tone expectant. “Did he say anything about missing the meeting?”

The second-years exchanged nervous glances before one of them hesitantly spoke up. “No, President. He didn’t mention anything.”

That made Jungwon pause.

Jake was many things, laid-back, exasperatingly smug, and a flight risk when it came to avoiding unnecessary small talk. But he was also reliable. He never skipped a meeting without at least a heads-up.

Sunoo, lounging lazily in his chair, finally looked up from his phone. “Are we sure he’s not dead?”

Heeseung, ignoring him, strode over to Jake’s desk. His eyes immediately landed on the thick folder placed neatly at the center, its edges aligned with military precision.

He opened it.

Inside were pages upon pages of documents, all labeled, revised, and signed. Every committee task Jake was responsible for? Already handled.

Heeseung huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. “Figures.”

Sunoo leaned over, peeking at the contents. “So he did everything beforehand, left proof, and then just—what? Vanished?”

Silence.

Then he clapped his hands together. “Well, if everything’s here, we might as well start.”

No one objected, except Jay.

Jay, who hadn’t even looked at the documents because he didn’t need to.

Something about this was off.

It was late.

The university parking lot was nearly empty, save for a few scattered cars and the occasional security guard making his rounds. The group were all making their way toward their rides, conversations overlapping in low murmurs.

The day had been long, the last meeting dragging on longer than expected, and now they were finally free.

"Ugh, I swear, if one more junior asks me to proofread their paperwork—" Sunoo grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Maybe if you didn’t baby them so much, they wouldn’t keep asking," Sunghoon teased, smirking.

Sunoo shot him a glare. "Maybe if you actually showed up to the meetings on time, you’d—"

Jay wasn’t listening.

His attention had been caught by something else.

A few steps ahead of the group, his pace slowed, then stopped entirely as his gaze landed on one of the benches just near the lot.

At first, he didn’t understand what he was looking at.

Jake was there. That in itself wasn’t strange. But Jake wasn’t alone, you were there, too.

And that was what made Jay’s breath catch in his throat; Jake wasn’t just sitting with you.

He was practically curled into you, head nestled snugly against the curve of your neck, his face pressed to your scent gland like it was the most natural thing in the world. His arm draped lazily over the back of the bench, one hand resting near your thigh; casual, comfortable, too familiar.

And you? You were just reading.

Flipping through the pages of your book like this was nothing new. Like Jake burying himself against your scent, molding himself into you, wasn’t something worth reacting to.

Jay’s feet refused to move.

It took Heeseung nearly walking into him for the others to notice his sudden stillness.

“Dude, why’d you stop—” Heeseung started, but then his voice faltered when he followed Jay’s gaze.

One by one, the rest of the group turned.

And one by one, their expressions shifted.

“Oh.” Jungwon’s voice was quiet, but filled with realization.

“No way.” Ni-ki blinked.

Sunghoon let out a low chuckle, crossing his arms. “Well. That explains a lot.”

Sunoo pressed his lips together, visibly holding back a laugh as he nudged his mate. “I mean, are we even surprised?”

They weren’t.

Not really.

But seeing it—seeing Jake so effortlessly tangled up with you, as if he’d been doing this for years, was something else entirely.

And Jake? Jake was completely oblivious to the fact that they were watching.

If anything, he only seemed to relax further, exhaling deeply against your skin before shifting slightly, adjusting his position so he could press even closer. His nose brushed against your neck, fingers twitching slightly as if resisting the urge to grip your waist.

The sight of it made something click.

Jay had noticed it before, the way Jake had been disappearing more often, the way he had been skipping out on long hours at the council office, the way he had been coming back with a scent that was unmistakably omega, unmistakably settled on his skin.

But now, standing here, watching Jake press into you, breathe you in, claim you without even realizing he was doing it—it made too much sense.

Jay exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Well. That’s new.”

Finally, Jake moved.

Not because he noticed them, no, he was still completely wrapped up in you. It was because you moved.

Without even looking up from your book, you lifted a hand and ran your fingers gently through Jake’s hair, the motion absentminded and natural, like this was routine.

Jake hummed at the touch, actually hummed, his arm tightening slightly around the back of the bench.

The entire group watched in silent disbelief.

Sunghoon blinked. "I feel like we shouldn't be seeing this."

Jungwon huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, but here we are."

Ni-ki raised a brow. "So, are we just gonna stand here and stare, or—?"

Jake had been careful.

Or at least, he thought he had.

But apparently, not careful enough.

Because the second he smelled it—them, it was already too late.

Jake’s body tensed, his nose twitched, and his fingers flexed against the back of the bench. The comfortable warmth of your scent was suddenly invaded, drowned out by something else.

Jake inhaled once again, and immediately regretted it.

⤷ read part 2 here !

taglist: @hoonbrry @hime98 @chae-darling @moonchus @peatchiedii @creamkwan @nyfwyeonjun @whoe-dis @woonie-muffin @caelumsjy @90sni-ki @leiomorea @junjungsunwoo @in-somnias-world @notcamii @yizhoutv @lovesickth @elairah @graythecoffeebean @skyearby @ikeumina @blckorchidd @littlebambi-isdee @immelissaaa @jakesfurry @dreamy-carat @cristy-101 @m1kkso @h4niyahcar @firstclassjaylee @skyearby @hello0i

© 2025 liuhsng — reblogs are highly appreciated and please don’t hesitate to request some fics here if you want me to write anything !

[etfrin]

⤷❝Mine To Love | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, mentions of killing, mentions of caging/locking you up (doesn't do it though), hair pulling, breath play if you squint, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), pinv sex, blowjob, male masterbation, cunnilingus, mating press, mentions of Lucy Gray, no spoilers | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president Snow x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: Snow realizing his feelings for you, being fucked up about it and fucks you!

⇢☾A/N: don't romanticize, it's dark romance so y'all are warned! This is set in the same au as The Study (you don't have to read it beforehand but it's recommended)

< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > <tag list>

It started slowly, so slow that Snow didn't even realize it. It started with that night in the study after he had you. He didn't touch you again, denying himself of you. You, his wife, a little bird stuck in a cage. The First Lady of Panem was nothing but a doll, a showcase piece for the country.

You played the role well enough, but you weren't a doll at all. You brought life in what was otherwise a stone-cold mannor. The workers cook your favorite, making sure you're the most well-accommodated. Like a Queen. How their shoulders relax and the smile that springs up when they do the tasks that you assigned them. You earned their respect and their loyalty.

You were dangerous yet harmless. It baffled Coriolanus to no end. It started slow. He coincidentally met you in the hallways more and more. After that night, you couldn't make eye contact with him, no longer did you greet him with an awkward hello or a shy smile.

You look down at the floor whenever he passes you by, your body flushing from the mere second of proximity. So obvious and adorable. He loved how easy you were to read, how open you were. Whatever your lips hide, your eyes show. Whatever your soul hides, your body shows.

It started slow. The monthly dinners with the First Lady turned weekly. Every Sunday now he had you sit across him for dinner and he would ask you about your day. Just to be polite, mind you, don't look into it. He would be annoyed by those one-word answers but would never show it. His fingers subtly grasped the glass of wine tighter than he should, his heart pricking his brain into paranoia. ‘What else?’ he wanted to ask, ‘Stop saying it was good. Tell me what made it good.’

Instead of uttering those words, cameras were placed on every inch of the manner with the audio functions so everything is recorded for his and only his view. He watched you walking through the library, your fingertips touching the spines of the books you already read (which was most of them), you didn't even realize new books were added to the collection, all similar to the ones you liked. He watched you stroll the gardens, your face in a frown at the neverending white roses. A red rose and several other flowers were added the next day.

It started slow. He began to talk about his day more and more trying to fill a silence. He started asking for your opinion and oh, how that lighted your eyes up that you were finally doing what you were meant to do. Supporting him not as a doll but as a wife. You begin to talk about your days more, trusting him with your day-to-day activities. You tell him about friends and family, something he wasn't interested in (he has files on every single person you mentioned).

The nights that were dedicated to his needed sleep turned into the witching hours in which he would stroke his cock over the memory of you. His mouth biting into the pillow to stop his groans, hearing them would mean admitting his need for you and he rejected that notion. His cock was oversensitive because he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop fucking into his fist, again and again thinking about you. Not just your pussy but you. Your desperate moans, your lips marking his neck, your slick walls, and everything of you. Your tears, your head on his chest when he had fucked you. Everything.

He wanted to pin you against a wall. He wanted to bend over during dinner. He wanted you on his lap in his study. He wanted to push you to the bed and fuck you until the bed breaks. He wanted you!

The realization made him spill onto his bed sheets for the nth time. A gasp escaped his lips as he realized how deeply you are rooted in him now. He needed to kill you. He can't afford this again. Whatever this is. Obsession? Love? Was there ever a difference? He needed this to end.

‘You don't deserve to be loved,’ he thinks, you were no Lucy Gray after all, you were different. You could never compare to his first and only (not anymore) love. But he had caged you, he had you and knew your every move. The rumors that spread of cheating were seized along with the man who flirted with you. True to your words, you hadn't fallen to the temptations of the Capitol, rejecting their offers politely rather than basking in their attention like before.

‘Good,’ he thought, he had killed everyone who had touched you and it was hard to hide the evidence. “I am so much better than her,” he muttered, “I could do so much better.” He asked himself, ‘Why? After all the promises I made to myself of never repeating the mistake.’

He didn't get a reply but he dreamt of you.

Breakfast had passed, lunch too, he hadn't seen you once today. A quick peek at his monitors showed that you were sleeping in your room. He clenched his jaw, a part of him hating you for sleeping in because it deprived him of seeing you. A part of his heart warmed because your hair was a mess, the shirt you were wearing while sleeping was his, and you looked so darn pretty.

Coriolanus convinced himself that he was going to your room to wake you up. Nobody should sleep this late into the day. It wasn't healthy, and he needed the First Lady to remain healthy. That was all.

He stepped into the room, his footsteps quiet so he didn't alert you. He sits down on the bed, your sleeping figure beside him. Your mouth had dried drool on the corners which made him disgusted but amusement all the same. His hand went to your cheek, he couldn't control the action of his thumb stroking your cheek.

“I should lock you up forever,” he whispered as softly as possible, almost inaudible. “In this room, so no one can see you but me.”

He knew by now his thoughts weren't normal and it would never be. That's him and he had accepted himself. He leaned in closer, his lips inches away from yours. He stopped right before he closed the gap. He takes a deep breath, taking in your scent before pulling back.

His hand goes to your shoulder, he shakes you. “Wake up, bird,” he said, his eyes softening when he saw you wake up and peer at him with confused eyes. You yawn, and sit up, your eyes wide when you look at him. You rub them with your hand and blink.

“Is there anything wrong, Coryo?” You asked softly, “Anything I can do to help.” “You should shower and eat first,” he said instead, “and next time don't sleep in. I don't like indiscipline.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, “I was finishing a book.” Your eyes flicker to him, “It's nice by the way! I will tell you about it during dinner.” He wanted to hear about it now, he wanted to pull you closer and kiss your lips, he wanted to push you into the mattress and breed you. He wanted to clean you up after and feed you every kind of feed.

He clenched his jaw, trying to get rid of such thoughts. “We'll see,” he said before walking out of the room, accidentally slamming the door. The first sign of Snow losing control.

The second sign of Coriolanus losing control was how his breath hitched when he saw you during dinner. You are wearing yet another one of his shirts (how do you even get your hands on them) and that's it. A white shirt that reached your knees, you had forgone pants and opted for shorts that couldn't even be seen. Your legs were in complete view, the same legs he wanted wrapped around his waist.

He didn't say a single comment even when it was clear you were waiting for one. ‘Were you trying to seduce him?’ he thinks, ‘Or something else.’ He felt paranoid about you wearing his shirt. Did you want him? Want him to bend you over, press your face onto the table and fuck you like you were an animal?

He felt his pants getting tighter from his thoughts, flashes of what he could do to you, what he had done to you. He couldn't focus as you talked during dinner, he made a mental note to watch the cameras later to know the words you had blessed him with.

It hits him like a wave when dinner ends and you come to him with a book. Tabs were spilling out and it was a hardcover of an old classic that he had to read during the academy.

“You once told me that you liked this book, I spent last night annotating it! I did a few finishing touches before dinner…”

That explains your attire, you were busy formatting this gift for him. He took the book from your hand, he wanted to throw it across the room, he wanted to set it on fire. It was now his most precious treasure, more important than Panem itself.

The truth he denied washes over him. Making him take a sharp breath and your eyebrows etch together in concern. He had once a girl dedicate songs for him, now he had a wife dedicating booms for him. ‘It would be a mistake,’ he told himself, ‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past.’

The desires he shoved at the back of his mind sprang forward and he made a decision. The third sign of Coriolanus surrendering to himself was that he had everyone including the guards leave the dining room. Making your eyes widen from the sudden instruction.

“Is there anything wrong-” you begin to ask before Snow interrupts you. “Here is what's going to happen now. You're gonna be on your knees, you'll take my cock in your mouth and you'll make me cum. Then I will take you to our room and I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name.”

You blink once, twice just staring into his eyes that revealed nothing before you went closer to him and got down on your knees for him. “Like this?” You asked, breathless, your cheeks flushed. He smirked, “Exactly like this, pet.”

“Now part those pretty lips for me,” he said as he unzipped his pants and set his hard cock free. He lets out a chuckle as he sees you eyeing his cock like a long-lost lover. Guess he wasn't the only one thinking about that time.

You part your mouth wide enough for him as he pushes his cock in slowly. No matter how desperate he was a gentleman for his wife. He knew better than to gag you. He stopped when his cock had completely disappeared, his length engulfed into your wet, hot mouth.

He throws back his head as his dick hits the back of your throat. He relishes the sound of your choking around his length. He lets out his groan, trying his hardest not to cum down your throat so soon. His hand is in your hair, keeping you in place like an obedient pet.

You try your best to take in a deep breath as your tongue swirls around his length as much as possible. You weren't the best at blowjobs, but you knew the sloppier the better. Saliva ran down your cheek as you tried your best to focus on his cock underside, your tongue dragging itself across a pulsing vein that reached his cockhead.

You moan around his length as the taste of pre-cum bursts in your mouth. You close your eyes and try your best, bopping your head up and down. You clenched your fist, trying your best not to gag when his cock gets deeper into your throat.

Meanwhile, Snow was a wreck of a man, the heat of your mouth ruining his capability of having coherent thoughts. You were sucking his soul through his dick it seemed to him. His fingers tangled in your locks, gripping your hair tighter as a way to anchor himself to reality.

His blue eyes dilated to almost black as he looks at you taking his cock so well. Like you were made for it. Made for his cock. Made for him. Meant to be his wife, his bird, his pet, and his love. It's destiny, he decided as he pulls you off his cock and uses his suit sleeves to wipe your mouth and chin.

‘Everything leads to this,’ he thought, as he pulled you onto his lap and pressed a kiss to your lips. The saltiness of his taste in your mouth does not deter his tongue from tasting you.

“Go to my- our room,” he whispered to you as he broke the kiss. “I'll be there soon,” he promises as he nuzzles into your neck, his lips kissing your skin. You nod and get off his lap. Your feet drag you into his room.

Meanwhile, Coriolanus takes a deep breath, trying to maintain whatever pathetic excuse of sanity he had held. It didn't work. His cock was hard enough to hurt and his brain made him think. He thinks of removing you, he thinks of keeping you. He thinks of plans to protect you, backup plans to make sure you remain untouched while still maintaining the image of the First Lady. His true possessiveness and obsession flares up in his mind.

‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past,’ he told himself, repeating that line to his head.

He takes a deep breath, a glance at the cameras shows workers and guards kept the halls clear and you were in his room and on his bed waiting for him. Waiting for him to ravish you as you kept playing with the buttons of the shirt, and your underwear on the floor. Your face was crimson but your lower lip was in a darker shade of red with how much you bitten it because of nervousness.

He lets out a huff of air before adjusting himself accordingly. Coriolanus Snow was many things, gentlemen included and gentlemen don't keep their ladies waiting.

You freeze as he enters the room. You swallow nervously, your fingers pausing on the shirt button you were playing with. He glances at the panties that were on the floor and he gives you a little smirk. “Take it all off, my wife,” he said as his hands worked to undress him. His suit was on the floor, his shirt joining it soon enough.

You have to press your thighs together as you see his skin again, a whimper escaping your lips at the sight. He was so beautiful, craved by the angels, breathed to life by the devil. Soon, his pants and boxers were getting ridden off.

You check him out, your gaze hungry. Your fingers shake with desire as you take off your (his) shirt. You let it fall, exposing yourself completely to him, like he did for you. His eyes rack you up, causing a flush to every visible inch of your skin.

“Open your legs,” he said, as he walked closer and got down on his knees for you. “I am hungry,” he said, while his lips pressed to your knee and his lustful eyes bewitched you. You had to bite your tongue to not let a moan from his mere words. You spread your legs wide, letting your cunt come into his view.

Your folds that were glistening with your arousal and your slit which was the cause of your juices fluttered around nothing from his gaze. “Exquisite,” he had whispered, the praise warming you up and making your pussy clench harder. “Eager too,” he chuckles, looking up at you but you refuse to meet his gaze.

“Have your meal,” you mumbled, embarrassed. He pressed a wet kiss to your inner thigh, making your breath hitch from the contact. A sharp moan escapes when he bites, his teeth digging into the flesh and your hand falls onto his hair. Your fingers grip the blonde locks but you don't try to push him away. Your legs tried to close around him, but his hands made sure to keep them spread as he liked it.

He pulled away, admiring the mark before he pressed another wet kiss to it. His fingers grip your thighs, they hold tight enough to leave marks too.

He takes in a deep breath, nuzzling into your thigh. Your primal scent makes him go wild, his nail digging into your skin as he brings his lips closer to your pussy. One swipe of his tongue onto your folds and he groans louder than you have ever heard him to do so.

“You taste like fucking candy,” he lets out, as his nose bumps into your clit, his tongue messily swirling around your folds, gathering as much of your juices as possible. Your legs were all on his shoulders now as he all but pressed his face, burying himself in your cunt. He takes in a deep breath through his mouth before he begins to ravish you properly.

His mouth taking in your entire pussy and sucking it with such devotion it made you see stars. He laps at your pussy, his tongue never stopping to devour you. You pulled him even closer, your thighs closing around his head. The action only made him. You couldn't see it, but his eyes rolled back from the lack of air and your taste that quickly became his favorite.

His teeth pulled at the outer lips of your pussy, making you cry out and gush more juices. He licks it all up. Before his attention goes to your little bud, his mouth kisses it at first. Then he takes your clit into his mouth to suck without any mercy.

It makes you cry out, the soles of your feet digging into his back as your hips begin to rut against his face. You have no control over your actions. You were gripping his hair so tight you were afraid that you tore away a few strands. Overwhelming pleasure attacked all of your senses as he didn't stop his merciless actions.

You arch your back, your lips moaning his name as heat begins to gather in your body. You cry out, “Close! Coryo! Fuck!” Pleads begin to leave your mouth as your hips grind faster, your clit nudged his nose as his tongue is now inside your walls, fucking you with his tongue.

Your eyes widen, and you let out a silent scream when his teeth nip your swollen clit. You lay on the bed, panting as your pussy cums on his face. Your arousal makes a mess on his face which makes you even more slick when he pulls back and gets on top of you.

You looked into his eyes, his cold blue eyes that were nearly black now. He was panting, both of your breaths mixing into the air. With whatever senses you have left, you use your palm to clean up some of the mess on his face.

As soon as you finish up, he holds your hand. His mouth on your palm with broad strokes of his tongue he licks the remaining of your juices clean. “Can't let it go to waste, my bird,” he whispered to you as he leaned down. His body caging yours or were you caging him down with your legs around his waist? He pressed a kiss to your cheek. Sweet and gentle, and so unlike him but you don't dare question his affections. May it be sweet or savory, you accept it with your arms wide open.

“Want you,” you whispered to him. “You'll have me when I see fit,” he replied, his mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck before they reached the flesh of your breasts. One of his hands squeezed your breast and his thumb rubbed circles on your nipple. His lips paid attention to the underside of it, licking the skin around the round flesh before his teeth sank in making you gasp. He sucks harshly, his hold on your breast getting rougher as he forms the mark on your skin. When he's assured that a hickey will be formed, his lips pull back and he presses a kiss to the mark.

“You're mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin before he takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks just as harshly as before. You moan, “Yours, Snow!” Your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. His fingers play and squeeze your other breast while he continues to suck your bud. Your cunt despite having a previous earthsharing orgasm begins to pulse with need. You whimper, “Corio, please!”

Coryo pulls away, his eyebrows etched in annoyance, as much as he likes to hear you beg, he would rather focus on his task of marking you up. He leans up and presses his lips to you. You moan into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your fingers tangling themselves into his curls bringing him even closer to you. He breaks the kiss, “I'll teach you to be obedient later, my pet.”

You let out a whimper when he pressed a hard kiss against your lips. His hands travel down to your hips. “Get ready,” he whispered to you, “I meant my words.” I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name. Remembering his earlier words, you whine loudly, “Please!”

His hand grips your hip tightly as his other hand holds his hard cock and guides it to your entrance. Just to be a little tease, he swipes his mushroom tip all over your cunt, his cockhead bumping your swollen clit making you arch your back and your nails dig into his flesh harder, making him moan as well.

He finally pressed his tip into your slit, his cock gliding in smoothly because of how wet you were. He groans as his dick gets sucked into warmth. His head is between the space of your shoulder. He was panting, his hot breath hitting your skin as he pushed in inch by inch. Your hands are on his back, your legs around his waist as you encourage him to go deeper into you with your soft moans.

His teeth sink into your neck to stop a groan, as his cock reaches your deepest spot. While your nails drag themselves across his back to create red lines. Both of you finding ways to anchor yourself to reality, to not go insane with the pleasure you find in each other.

“Move,” you plead, “Please, Coryo, need you to fuck me. Need you!” Snow decided to have mercy on you both, his hips began to move shallowly, and he refused to completely pull back. He refused the concept of depriving his dick of your sweet, wet pussy. “Faster,” you beg, his deep thrust hits at your every spot, some you didn't even know existed. It fried at your senses, your mind going haywire, your body getting desperate for another release.

“No,” he barks near your ear, his mouth biting your earlobe before he begins to kiss your jaw and then to your collarbone. His lips suck purple and blue bruises on your skin while his hips grind into you. Making you go dizzy and insane with how his cockhead kept grazing your g-spot.

“Please, please,” you babble, “You're fucking me so good, Coryo! I can't take it, please! Fuck me harder, love!” His hips had stopped moving as he heard your words. His head leaned up to you, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, “What did you say?”

You looked straight into his eyes, not hiding the love you had for him, letting it flow through your words and your body. “Love,” you whispered, your lips pressing a delicate kiss that could shatter everything you had built with Snow. “I love you,” you whispered. One of your hands moves to his cheek, caressing him. “You don't have to do anything in return, just know that I love you.” You smile at him, knowing it's more likely that he won't ever return your feelings.

You prepared yourself for a harsh rejection but instead, his hips begin to move again. Harder, faster than before, his cockhead kissing your cervix with his thrusts, his fingers digging into your hips marking it. You won't be able to walk later but that didn't matter.

What mattered was how perfect Coriolanus had begun to fuck you. No, it wasn't a fuck. This was something more. Something changed with your confession, something changed and will remain changed for the rest of both of your lives.

One of his hands reached upward, his fingers snaking around your throat. He pressed it in, not enough to block your breathing but enough to make you lightheaded. Your pussy which was already tight, clenched around him further making him groan right against your ear.

“Lover indeed,” he whispered, his words that you nearly missed, your heart understood what he meant. You gasp, “Kiss me.” You knew that even without him saying those words, he could love you all the same.

Snow complies, his lips clashing with yours. His hips rutting into you as his hands guide your legs into the mating press position, making you cry out into the kiss as his cock reaches even deeper than before causing a small bump into your stomach that neither of you notices.

The kiss got open-mouthed, desperate with how his tongue tangled with yours. It was filth filled with the pathetic, insanity of love you both felt for each other. His thrusts got faster, and sloppier as he was close to his end. Your cunt pulsating around his length as you too were close to shattering again.

What it took for both of you to reach the end was him breaking the kiss to whisper, “I should kill you. I should kill you for making me a lovesick fool again.”

The words even when you know can mean your doom makes you cum like nothing else. Your lips cry out as your walls begin to milk his cock for what it's worth. He groans into your mouth, letting himself feel your fluttering cunt before he thrusts into you once, twice, and finds his release. His cock spilling into you, his cum painting your insides white, marking you.

He pulls out, his back covered with scratches, his curls clinging to his forehead and his lips swollen from the kisses. You looked just as much of a mess as he did, with marks all over your body.

He thinks to himself as he lies beside you. He wasn't going to kill you now. Not in ten years or fifty but your end would only be when he decides.

He loves you after all, in his twisted way.

tags : @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @justacaliforniandreamer

[ozzgin]

Yandere! CEO Headcanons

Just a little idea I had some time ago of a rather bizarre dynamic: a CEO with no time to spare, introduced to a young student his wife befriended. Perhaps he does have a moment, after all. (I need to dump my preference for a cultured older man somewhere) Content: female reader, age gap, older yandere, NSFW, dating the wife is optional

[Yandere Masterlist]

Yandere! CEO who is in his mid 40s and terribly invested in his job. So much, that he and his wife agreed on an open relationship many years ago and barely interact anymore. Not a gloomy business by any means: she gets to meet new people and he can enjoy his work and hobbies in peace and without guilt.

Yandere! CEO who doesn't think much of it when his wife brings home a young student she befriended at a convention. He nods dismissively, returning to his papers and phone calls. At dinner, he just hums in acknowledgement and fiddles with the cutlery while the woman talks about you excitedly. "You know, (Y/N) reminds me a little of you." Nonsense.

Yandere! CEO with whom you scarcely interact: he's a borderline workaholic, and your relationship is cordial at best. That is until you're asked by the wife to retrieve some important documents from their ridiculously luxurious apartment. You quietly tiptoe past the office, but can't help glancing at the imposing library, stacked with books. The man's sudden arrival startles and you begin to mumble apologies, but he seems more interested in your curiosity than anything else.

Yandere! CEO who can't believe you both like the same authors. He discreetly removes the folder from your hands, tasking one of the assistants to deliver it to his wife instead. There are more important matters at hand. Have you had your coffee yet? Oh, you must stay longer. What's the hurry?

Yandere! CEO who has become awfully perceptive whenever your name is mentioned in conversations, innocently probing for more details. Naturally, he wouldn't mind meeting you again, but it's not...a need, per se. He was just pleasantly surprised to find someone he could so easily engage in conversation with. Hell, you're old enough to be his daughter. Don't be ridiculous, he'll scold himself sternly whenever his mind wanders too far.

Yandere! CEO who begins to feel like each encounter is a flirty tease. Is it just wishful thinking, or are you becoming cheekier by day? The way you bat your eyelashes, the way you cast your eyes down whenever he looks at you. The next time you're alone in the apartment, he's too far gone in his delusions to act rationally. How unusual for him to act so nonchalant. Unbuttoning your shirt with haste, trailing your neck with hot kisses, lifting your leg and pressing you against the wall. He never considered himself the type to fuck a much younger woman out of raw lust.

Yandere! CEO who loves taking you on dates despite his busy schedule. Art museums, theatres, the Opera. He is eager to introduce you to his interests and will answer any question or curiosity you have. Who would've thought everything is better in two? Of course, there could be other factors involved. Like the added bonus of watching you squirm in your seat and biting your lips to be quiet while he fingers you at the peak of Act 3. Then smirking to himself when everyone stands up for applause, and you have to rearrange your dress to hide the wet mess underneath.

Yandere! CEO who worries about you when he's on work trips, so he tasks his right-hand man to look after you and keep you company. If you ever get lonely, you can rely on his assistant to take care of all your needs. Now, he's not one to share, despite his marital arrangement. As bizarre as it sounds, he just sees the employee as a mere toy, an idle occupation who can temporarily entertain you in his absence. What he does perceive as a threat is swiftly taken care of. It's enough for you to mention another student flirted with you, and you'll never see that person again. You have to understand that he doesn't play around with his assets. One he has something, he holds onto it with ironclad strength. And he's never been more desperate to keep something in his possession.

Yandere! CEO who makes sure to remind you why dating him is your best (and only) choice. You would've wasted your time with boys your age. He can offer you the world and more, all you need to do is ask for it.

[wafflefries13]

Blood in the Water (Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You get your period and Floyd is confused.

AN: Gonna be honest, this is mostly for me. I'm having the absolute worst cramps and writing this is mostly cathartic. I need a good comfort fic every once and a while. Thanks for reading!

Cross posted on my AO3 TheGhostIsTheKitchen

Warnings: AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, menstruation, cramps, nausea, brief mention of assault but no actual assault, can be read as romantic or platonic

There was a familiar twist in (Y/N)’s gut and she groaned. Putting a hand to her stomach, she leaned against the wall in the library, sinking down between the bookstacks as her head went dizzy and a knot of pain grew in her belly. 

When her period had started this morning, two days late, she’d felt mostly fine. Sure maybe a little bloated and sluggish but that was par for the course. For a minute she’d been able to fool herself into thinking this would be one of those easy periods. It would last a few days without the plummeting change in emotions, the barbed wire cramps in her lower stomach, and every inch of skin feeling way too sensitive. Now that seemed like wishful thinking. 

The first time she got her period here she desperately looked through the stacks of pain medication at Sam’s, wrestling with the unfamiliar brands to try and decipher which were good for period pains and which might make it worse. Thankfully, a trans Scarabia student had seen her struggling, pointing out which products they used. Sam had thrown in a free heating pad shaped like a huge dumpling. She’d almost cried. 

She wished she had that heating pad now. She closed her eyes, thunking her forehead on her knees as she curled up. This was supposed to be a free study period, but she now suspected she’d spend the whole hour hiding in the library, afraid to move for fear of agitating the growing bundle of pain in her abdomen. She took a deep breath through her nose, exhaling through her mouth. 

(Y/N) sensed the presence before she saw him. Months of being startled by Lilia or Chenya breaking onto campus had sharpened her skills in being ready for surprise attacks. She cracked open an eye, catching the fleeting glimpse of teal colored hair ducking behind a stack. She pressed her lips together. She normally loved having Floyd around. She appreciated his vibrant, if not volatile, personality, how surprisingly talented he was in domestic tasks like cooking. Jade had once mentioned that (Y/N) was able to sense Floyd’s mood swings with almost as much accuracy as his own brother, anticipating the shift and adjusting accordingly. And, to be honest, she loved how he would squeeze the life out of her at any given chance. But right now, when she was fighting a wave of nausea? Now was not the time. 

She watched from the corner of her eye as Floyd stalked through the stacks, more like a shark than an eel. When she saw him ready to pounce, muscles tensing, ready to strike, she quickly held out her hand in a ‘stop’ motion, cutting him off mere inches from his arms enveloping her. 

“Floyd,” She said, exhaustion seeping into her voice. “If you squeeze me right now I’ll throw up on you. That’s not a threat, it’s just what will happen.” 

Floyd pouted, his posture deflating. “Boo,” He said. He blinked, just now taking in (Y/N)’s curled in form. “You okay, Shrimpy?” 

(Y/N) chuckled mirthlessly. “All my insides want to be my outsides, but other than that I’m good.” 

Floyd blinked, wide eyed, mouth dropping open in alarm. His features almost immediately switched to steely anger. “Who hurt you?” 

If (Y/N) wasn’t so preoccupied by the lethargy pulling her body down, she might have found his protectiveness cute. “Just Mother Nature, Floyd. And I don’t think even you have much of a chance against her.” At his puzzled expression, she added, “I’m on my period.” 

“Oh.” He stood there for a moment, long limbs awkward now that he couldn’t use them for violence. He shifted on his feet before collapsing down to sit next to (Y/N). He tapped his feet, trying to dispel ounces of his endless energy. “So, your period?” 

(Y/N) hummed in response. “Yeah. It’s a few days late, but it’s here. At least I’m not pregnant, right?” 

Floyd jumped, eyes wide. “Pregnant?” He asked, voice cracking. “You have a boyfriend?” 

(Y/N) scoffed, waving him off. “God, no. It’s enough juggling everything else that’s happening here without worrying about a relationship.” 

“Then,” Floyd thought for a second, eyebrows furrowing in anger. “Is somebody hurting you?” 

(Y/N) looked up at him, just now noticing his angry confused face. “Hurting me? No, I’m not - Oh, wait, no! Not like that, no! I’d tell someone if anything like that happened, I promise.” 

“So you’re just seeing someone?” He almost looked hurt with his pout. 

“No, I’m not, casually or anything serious.” 

“But you thought you might be pregnant?” 

“Every girl thinks they might be pregnant when their period is late, even if they’ve never had sex before.”

“When your period is late,” Floyd repeated. 

“Yeah, it’s universal. Ask any girl. Or a person with a uterus. You know what I mean.” 

It was quiet again, Floyd tapping his feet more aggressively this time. Just when (Y/N) was about to ask him to stop, that the tapping sound was adding to her hammering headache, Floyd asked, “What’s a period?” 

(Y/N) turned her head from her knees to look up at him, and, realizing he was serious for once, jerked straight up. “Wait, really? You never heard your mom talking about it? Or any girls you know?” 

Floyd shrugged, looking away and rubbing the back of his head. “I’ve never heard mer-girls say anything about it. And you’re really the only human girl I know.” 

(Y/N) had momentarily forgotten that her and Floyd’s biology was far more different beyond physical sex. Now that she thought about it, it would make sense if mermaids didn’t have periods, right? She found it hard to believe that Floyd could be willfully ignorant of something that affected half the human population, (come to think of it, did beast women have periods? Or fairies?) but if he didn’t have extended contact with humans who suffered monthly, his confusion and concern would make sense. 

“Oh,” (Y/N) said, feeling herself blush. “I didn’t think - yeah, no, I’m fine. This is normal. It sucks and hurts, but it’s normal, I promise.” 

“It’s normal to hurt without getting hit or something?”

“Yup. Totally normal. Did you… want me to explain it to you?” 

Floyd cocked his head, peering at her. “Well, if it’s important to Shrimpy then it’s important to me, right?” 

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and said. “Yeah, sure. Okay, human biology 101.” (Y/N) held out her fist, pinkie and thumb extended. “Okay, so biological females have an organ called a uterus, down in the lower abdomen right above the pelvis. Branching out from the uterus are fallopian tubes connected to ovaries on either side.” She wiggled her pinkie and thumb to demonstrate. “The ovaries have eggs, not like chicken eggs or fish eggs. It’s a cell, like a skin cell or blood cell or something. During the month, the uterus builds up this cushioning of blood and tissue and an egg gets sent down from the ovary. If the egg isn’t fertilized by a sperm cell to make a baby, then the body needs to get rid of that tissue. So the uterus contracts,” (Y/N) opened and closed her fist to demonstrate. “And pushes all that out through, uh, the vagina. You basically bleed for three to seven days down there, depending on the person.” 

“You’re bleeding?” Floyd said in shocked horror. His eyes darted down to (Y/N)’s lap before quickly cutting back up. 

“Yup. Mine usually last four to five days.” 

“And you’re bleeding the whole time?” (Y/N) nodded. “Wow, you’d be calling every shark from miles around in the ocean.” 

(Y/N) smirked. “Then I guess it’s a good thing mermaids don’t have periods.” 

“So how do you, like, stop it? Are you bleeding right now?” 

“Pad or tampons, mostly. I know some people who use a cup but I’ve never tried one.” At his blank look, she continued. “Pads are like a flat piece of cotton. One side is sticky so it stays on your underwear. Tampons are cotton cylinders you wear internally. So if I did want to go swim in the ocean I’d wear one of those. Not sure if a shark would be able to smell me though. You mostly just have to watch out for toxic shock syndrome.”  

“Sounds like something from a jellyfish.” 

“It’s a little more intense, although I guess that depends on the jellyfish. It’s blood poisoning or a bacterial infection, I think? If you keep in a tampon for too long you can get toxic shock syndrome, and that can lead to hospitalization, amputation, or death. I think you’re only supposed to have a tampon in for up to eight hours. Everyone who uses tampons that I know was terrified of it. It’s really rare though. After a while you kind of get used to wearing stuff, but it’s always at the back of your mind.” (Y/N) looked over at Floyd and laughed at his pale shocked face. “Not what you were expecting, huh?” 

He shook his head slowly. “So that’s what’s making you hurt?” 

“No, not that. Like I said, the uterus contracts getting all the stuff out so it causes cramping. It can also make you feel really nauseous, which is what’s going on with me right now. It could be worse. I knew a girl back in my world that had endometriosis. That’s when all that tissue I was talking about grows outside the uterus instead of inside. It can be super painful. But even if you have a normal period it’s a pain. Your hormones get all thrown out of whack. Some people get angry real easy, but I just end up getting really teary. If I ever just burst into tears for no reason it might be because I’m on my period. But never ask a girl if they’re on their period if they're angry or sad or something. There’s this whole thing where people dismiss any extreme emotion a girl has as being because of her period and not a valid reaction to something. It’s super annoying. To be fair, this world seems more up to speed with gender equality, so maybe it’s not that big a stereotype here.” 

Floyd didn’t say anything, stuck in a rare contemplation. “Can I help?” He asked. 

(Y/N) smiled softly at him. “This kind of help, just talking about it. Heating pads help too. Having that pressure helps ease the cramps.” 

Floyd hummed in thought. He reached over and tugged her blazer. “Scoot forward.” (Y/N) quirked an eyebrow at him but did as he asked. Floyd slipped in behind (Y/N), long legs stretching out around her. He pulled her back into his chest, his hands coming down to gently press against her stomach. His thumbs rubbed in small circles. “Does this help?” 

(Y/N) leaned her head back against his chest, closing her eyes. “Yeah, thanks.” 

~

A few days later, (Y/N) was hanging out with Ace and Deuce on the quad. They were talking when they heard a loud, “Shrimpy!” Ace and Deuce flinched back as Floyd bounded over. He stopped abruptly a breath away from (Y/N), arms outstretched. 

(Y/N) laughed and held out her arms. “Go ahead, I finished the other day.” 

Floyd gave a cry of delight and immediately scooped (Y/N) up in a huge squeezing hug, tight enough to make up for the last lost few days.

[demonlorddiva]

Obey Me! Side Characters Accidentally Hurting Mc

I had ONE person ask for the dateables so here ya go! Not the best at writing them but I’ll do my best! No Luke I don’t wanna see him sad 😭

Diavolo

Lucifer tasked you with delivering some papers for Diavolo to sign

Barbatos greets you at the castle doors, telling you he’s in his office

Meanwhile, Diavolo just had the best idea for a new school event he wants to have

He throws the doors of his office open in excitement ready to tell Barbatos about his idea

…the second your right behind it ready to knock

The force sends you and the papers to the floor

It takes him a second to realize what happens before he absolutely freaks out

“Oh my goodness! MC! Are you alright???”

He thinks he’s killed you, or broken a bone, or both or anything terrible that could happen to a human

He’s on the ground with his hands on your shoulders

Meanwhile your giggling, telling him your fine and to calm down

When he sees your fine, he pulls you into a bear hug

“Thank the stars your okay”

Barbatos

Your helping Barb cook in the castle

He’s trying out a new dish you showed him from the human world

As your chopping the vegetables, he’s called to help Diavolo with something, so you tell him it’s fine and continue with the recipe

While he’s gone, you find yourself in your own little world, doing a recipe you’ve done so many times

You don’t notice when he walks back in the kitchen and he thinks you do

He walks up behind you, admiring your work

“Have you finished chopping?”

His words startle you, causing you to drop the knife your holding onto your hand, slicing it

Immediately he grabs your hand and spins you around so your facing him, inspecting your wound 

“Apologies MC, I thought you heard me, and now look at you.. we’ve got to get this cleaned up”

Before you can even think, he’s got you sitting on the counter with a first aid kit bandaging your hand.. looking very apologetic might I add

You have to tell him your fine a million times before he believes you.. at least you think he does

Once he’s done patching you up he kisses your hand where the bandage is 😭💕

Simeon

Your partners in a project at RAD so your at the library with him sorting through books to help you study

He’s on the ladder handing down the books while you set them on the table

On the last set of books Simeon loses his balance

Sending you, him, and the books to the floor

He manages to catch himself before fully landing on you but the book he was holding hits you square in the face

“Oh MC! Are you alright?”

His hands are on your face, checking to see any injuries

Your blushing and stammering out that your okay

Finally the realization hits him. He’s on top of you, your face is so close…

He sits up, looking away but you can see his cheeks are RED

He helps you back to your feet

While you guys continue to study after, you can’t help but notice how he looks at you and how he blushes when he looks away

Solomon

As his apprentice, helping him with his experiments and potions is a regular thing for you too

So when he asked you to come over and help him with his latest potion, you agreed

Everything was going according to his plan, this was gonna turn out amazing!

They were just about done, all of the sleepless nights of working on this project will finally be completed

“MC, could you put the contents of that container into the cauldron?” He says across the room, checking his spellbook

Unbeknownst to the two of you, Solomon mislabeled the contents of that certain ingredient in his tireless haze to finish the potion

That mistake had big consequences, as soon as you added some of it, the contents of the cauldron exploded, sending the scalding potion to burn your hand hovering over the pot

He was quick enough to send a protection spell so the potion didn’t spray over your entire body, but not quick enough to keep you fully unharmed

He quickly ran to you, inspecting your hand with gentle hands looking completely baffled at what just happened as were you

When he realizes his mistake he’s incredibly sorrowful. His own negligence caused his favorite person to get harmed

“I’m so sorry MC, my poor judgment caused you so much pain. I hope you can forgive me.”

Luckily, being the worlds greatest sorcerer came with his perks. Before the pain can set in too bad, he chants a spell until your hand returns back to its normal state before the incident

Afterwards, your in charge of reading the spell book while he deals with the potion. At least if he messes up again you won’t be hurt.

Definitely try’s to cheer you up by teaching you some spells you’ve been wanting to learn

“All right my little apprentice, since you’ve been good how about I teach you that illusion spell you’ve been so excited about huh?”

I mayyy have been drinking when I first made this and forgot to add Solomon. But here he is! In my defense my phone froze and deleted most of this before I could upload and I had to rewrite everything. So sorry but he’s here now!

Hope y’all like it! Got a lil spicy with Simeon there at the end but I just can’t help it 😫

Comments are appreciated! Always trying to improve on my writing!

[jaeyunluvbot]

bite the hand

genre/tags 𝟅𝟈 enemies to lovers-ish, college au, hockey player!sunghoon, slightly nerdy!reader, angst, happy ending

word count 𝟅𝟈 4.6k

NOT PROOFREAD

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You take a deep breath, staring at your computer screen as you will yourself to finish your lab report before the weekend. The soft hum of the fluorescent lights above only makes it harder to focus, their droning buzz tugging at your already fragile attention span.

Groaning, you bury your face in your hands as another burst of laughter erupts from the table next to you. The group of students there seems oblivious to the library’s supposed quiet rule, their chatter growing louder with every passing minute. A part of you wants to tell them to shut up, but the thought of confronting them fills you with dread.

Your eyes drift back to the unfinished lab report, mocking you with every cursor blink. Defeated, you shut your laptop with a sharp click and shove it into your bag. You’ve had enough of the noise, deciding that the solitude of your dorm is a far better place to work—or nap.

As you sling your bag over your shoulder and stand to leave, you throw one last glare at the rowdy table. Your irritation deepens when your eyes meet Park Sunghoon’s. He’s sitting there, mid-laugh, but the second your gazes lock, his amusement falters into surprise. Embarrassed, you look away and hurry out of the library, the encounter making your retreat feel even more awkward.

On your way back to your dorm, your phone buzzes in your pocket. A quick glance reveals an email notification from your professor. You unlock your phone, opening the email and skimming its contents. He’s asking if you’d be willing to tutor a struggling student who’s in danger of failing their class. There’s payment involved, and the arrangement would look good on your resume, but the thought of adding another task to your packed schedule makes you hesitate.

After weighing your options, you sigh and type out a reply. I’ll do it.

Reaching your dorm, you toss your bag onto the floor and collapse onto your bed without even bothering to change your clothes. Sleep comes quickly, a much-needed reprieve from your overworked mind.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

A few days later, you walk into your chemistry lab, a wave of exhaustion washing over you. You’d managed to finish your lab report over the weekend, but at the cost of the recovery time you desperately needed. Now, the decision to tutor feels like a mistake. Scanning the room, you notice several students looking as lost as ever, and you dread the thought of figuring out which one you’d be charged with helping.

Once the lab ends, you pack your things and prepare to leave, but your professor’s voice cuts through the buzz of conversation. “Y/N, could you stay for a moment?”

You pause, your curiosity mingling with annoyance. As you approach his desk, you notice someone standing beside him. It’s Park Sunghoon.

Your stomach sinks. He looks as sheepish as you feel, his hands shoved into his pockets and his gaze fixed somewhere on the floor.

“Y/N,” your professor begins with a smile, “I’d like you to meet the student you’ll be tutoring—Park Sunghoon. Sunghoon, this is Y/N. I’m confident you two will make a great team.”

Sunghoon glances at you, his lips quirking into an awkward smile. “Uh, hi,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

You force a smile, your irritation at the boy bubbling up despite your best efforts to bury it. Of all people…

You clear your throat and nod stiffly. “Hi,” you reply, finding it difficult to keep your voice level.

Your professor beams, clearly oblivious to the awkwardness between you. “Why don’t you two exchange contact information so you can set up a time to meet?”

Sunghoon hesitates briefly, then pulls out his phone. You mirror the action, feeling your stomach twist as a rush of old memories surfaces—memories you’d rather forget. He recites his number, and you type it in, deliberately avoiding eye contact as you save it to your contacts under a simple Park Sunghoon.

“I’ll text you later,” you say sharply, locking your phone and slipping it back into your pocket. “We can figure out a schedule then.”

“Yeah, okay,” he mumbles, his voice softer than you remember. He fidgets, glancing at you briefly before looking away, not that you noticed, having avoided contact, visual or not, with him since you left high school.

Your professor clasps his hands together, clearly satisfied. “Perfect! Thanks again, Y/N—you’re doing a great thing.”

You force a tight smile, muttering a polite response before excusing yourself. The moment you step out of the classroom, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

Park Sunghoon. Of course, it had to be him...

The walk to work feels longer than usual, your mind spiraling as you replay the memories you’ve worked so hard to bury. Sunghoon hadn’t been the worst person in high school—not overtly cruel, at least—but he had been a part of the group that made your life hell. His hockey teammates were relentless with their taunts, mocking your clothes, your grades, even the way you walked. And while Sunghoon never joined in directly, he never stopped them either. He just stood by, laughing along like it was some kind of joke.

You swallow hard, your grip tightening on the strap of your bag. Maybe he’s changed since then. It’s been a couple of years, after all. People grow up, right? But the thought of spending time with him—helping him, of all things—makes your stomach churn.

By the time you reach the café, your frustration has morphed into a simmering resentment. You shove your bag into the staff locker and tie your apron around your waist, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand.

The hum of the espresso machine and the steady stream of customers provide a welcome distraction, but Sunghoon’s face lingers in the back of your mind. What was your professor thinking, asking you to tutor him? And why had you agreed so quickly?

You paste on a customer-service smile as you take another order, trying to shake off the unease. Maybe this would be fine. Maybe he wasn’t the same person he used to be. But as much as you want to believe that, a voice in the back of your head whispers otherwise.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next day, after exchanging a few brief texts with Sunghoon, you agree to meet in one of the smaller study rooms in the library. You keep the messages as formal and impersonal as possible, giving him the time and location with no room for small talk.

When you arrive, he’s already there, slouched in a chair with his phone in hand. He looks up as you walk in, straightening slightly but not saying anything. You drop your bag onto the table and pull out your notebook and laptop, keeping your eyes on your supplies instead of him.

“Let’s get started,” you say curtly, flipping open the notebook to the notes you’ve prepared. “What exactly are you struggling with?”

Sunghoon shrugs, leaning back in his chair. “Pretty much everything.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Of course. “Okay, well, we’re going to start with the basics. If you don’t understand those, there’s no point in moving forward.” You flip to the beginning of your notebook, clearly having underestimated just how behind he was.

Sunghoon listens, his expression unreadable. He nods occasionally, jotting down notes without comment. Every time you ask if he has questions, he shakes his head, his indifference irritating you even more.

The air between you feels tense, the silence only broken by the sound of your pen scratching against the paper or the occasional rustle of Sunghoon shifting in his seat. You stick strictly to the material, explaining concepts and walking him through problems all while avoiding eye contact with him.

After about an hour, you close your notebook with a decisive snap. “That’s enough for today,” you say, packing up your things quickly. “Practice these problems before our next session, or this’ll be a waste of time.”

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow at your tone but doesn’t say anything. “Got it,” he says, his voice as neutral as yours.

You sling your bag over your shoulder and stand, eager to leave. As you head for the door, Sunghoon’s voice stops you.

“Hey,” he says, and you turn reluctantly to face him. He looks at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Thanks, I guess. For doing this.”

You blink, caught off guard, but quickly school your features into neutrality. “Don’t thank me yet,” you say, and walk out without another word.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

It had been weeks since you started tutoring Sunghoon, and while he had made some minimal progress, his commitment—or lack thereof—was driving you insane. With the big exam coming up, you’d been trying to schedule an extra session to review the material, but every time you texted him, he either claimed he was busy with hockey or straight-up ignored your messages.

You slammed your phone onto your desk after yet another unread text from him. Why am I even trying?

By the time your next class rolled around, you were on the verge of screaming. As soon as the lecture ended, you spotted him at the back of the room, chatting casually with one of his friends. Your frustration boiled over.

“Sunghoon!” you called sharply, cutting through the buzz of students packing up.

He glanced over, startled, and his friend quickly ducked out of the way, sensing the tension. You marched up to him, your jaw tight and your eyes blazing.

“What’s your problem?” you snapped, ignoring the stares from a few lingering classmates. “You’ve been ignoring my texts for the last week. I’m done.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you wasting my time,” you hissed. “I’ve been trying to help you, but you don’t even care enough to show up half the time! Do you think I don’t have better things to do?”

He frowned, his expression darkening. “I do care. I just—”

“No, you don’t,” you cut him off. “You care about hockey and parties and whatever else you’re doing instead of studying. But you don’t care about passing this class, and I’m not going to keep wasting my time on someone who obviously doesn't care or respect my time.”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue. Then he said, his voice tight, “If I fail, I can’t play. I’ll get benched.”

You stared at him, was he seriously saying that right now? “And whose fault is that?” you asked sharply. “You think I’m the one who’s been skipping sessions and ignoring texts? This is on you, Sunghoon. Not me.”

His face flushed, whether from embarrassment or anger, you couldn’t tell. “Fine,” he muttered, grabbing his bag. “Do whatever you want.”

“Fine,” you shot back.

He walked past you without another word, leaving you standing there with your fists clenched at your sides. The stares from the remaining students felt like needles in your skin, but you ignored them, storming out of the room and heading straight for your dorm.

As soon as you got to your desk, you opened your laptop and began typing out an email to your professor. You kept it short and professional, explaining that you could no longer tutor Sunghoon due to his lack of commitment and unwillingness to prioritize his studies.

After hitting send, you sat back in your chair, rubbing your temples. You wanted to feel relieved, but the knot in your chest only seemed to tighten.

Why do I even care? you wondered. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the image of Sunghoon’s frustrated expression—or the way his voice cracked when he said he couldn’t play.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The big exam had come and gone, with you achieving a perfect score, as usual, and for the first time in what felt like ages, your schedule had a lull. No tutoring, no extra shifts at the café, and no urgent RA duties. You spent most of the afternoon snuggled up in bed, watching your favorite movies and generally rotting away. You’d stopped thinking about Sunghoon entirely—except for the occasional pang of irritation when you remembered his smirk or the way he shrugged off your tutoring sessions. Whether he passed or failed, you didn’t know, and frankly, you didn’t care.

By evening, Liz and Wonyoung showed up at your dorm with all the energy of a cheer routine. Liz, your partner in suffering as a chemical engineering major, was insisting that you went out with them.

“You’ve been cooped up for weeks,” Liz said, digging through your closet. “You need a break. And a drink.”

“I don’t know…” you hesitated, but Wonyoung cut you off.

“No excuses. It’s Friday night, and you deserve to have some fun for once.”

Before you could argue further, Liz pulled out a dress you hadn’t worn in ages—a sleek, flattering number that made you feel good about yourself, but nervous at the same time. They practically shoved you into the bathroom to change, and when you finally emerged, their reactions made you blush.

“Okay, wow,” Liz said, grinning. “You look amazing.”

“Absolute goddess,” Wonyoung added. “You look perfect.”

Despite your initial hesitation, you agreed to go, your nerves bubbling under the surface. You couldn’t help but worry if Sunghoon would be there. After all, hockey players and college parties went hand in hand, and you knew his teammates and old friends would be out in full force.

The party was already in full swing when you arrived, music thumping through the walls of the off-campus house. You stuck close to Liz, nursing a drink she handed you as you tried to shake off your discomfort.

“Relax,” Liz said, nudging you. “You’re allowed to have fun, you know.”

You took another sip, then another, letting the alcohol lessen the weight of stress on your chest. The more you drank, the less out of place you felt—though Liz kept an eye on you.

“Maybe slow down,” she said after your third drink.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, waving her off. “I just… need to relax. This helps.”

But your slight sense of calm shattered when you saw a group of people from your high school clustered near the back of the room. Among them was Sunghoon, leaning against the wall with that same effortless confidence that had always irritated you.

You tried to ignore them, but it didn’t take long for the group to notice you.

“Isn’t that Y/N?” one of them said, their voice cutting through the noise of the party.

“Oh my god, it is,” another chimed in. “Didn’t she always have her nose in a book back in high school?”

“And now look at her,” someone else snickered. “Trying way too hard.”

Your stomach sank, and you turned to walk away, but their laughter followed you.

“Shut up,” you heard Sunghoon say, his voice sharp.

The group fell silent, and you glanced back to see him glaring at them. For a split second, your eyes met his, but you turned and hurried toward the door before he could say anything.

The cool night air hit you like a slap, and you started walking, the alcohol making your steps uneven. You just needed to get home, to get away from all of it.

“Y/N, wait!”

You groaned, hearing Sunghoon’s voice behind you. “Go away, Sunghoon.”

He jogged to catch up, falling into step beside you. “You can’t walk home alone. You’re drunk.”

“I don’t care,” you muttered, picking up your pace.

He grabbed your arm gently, stopping you. “I care. Even if you hate me, I’m not letting you do this.”

You yanked your arm away, glaring at him. “Why do you care now? You didn’t care back then. You just stood there and let them treat me like garbage.”

He flinched, his expression softening. “I know,” he said quietly. “I was a coward. I should’ve done something, and I didn’t. I’ve regretted it ever since.”

“Great,” you snapped, your voice trembling with anger. “You regret it. That doesn’t change anything.”

He looked at you, his jaw tight. “I know it doesn’t. But I’m sorry. For all of it.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, but the anger bubbling in your chest wouldn’t let you accept it. Without another word, you turned and marched up to your dorm, slamming the door in his face as soon as you got inside.

Your phone buzzed with a text a few minutes later:

Park Sunghoon: Are you okay? Please let me know you got home safe.

You stared at the screen, your emotions a tangled mess. But you didn’t reply.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You’ve managed to avoid Sunghoon for weeks now, successfully shoving thoughts of him to the back of your mind. For once, your schedule feels manageable—no last-minute tutoring sessions or stressful emails from your professor. You even have some free time to relax, which you’ve been using to catch up on sleep and unwind.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon feels like his guilt is eating him alive. Every time he sees you in class, he wants to apologize again, but the memory of your anger and disappointment keeps holding him back. His friends don’t make it easier.

“Forget her, dude. She’s just some uptight nerd. She's not worth it,” one of them says during lunch, laughing like it’s the funniest thing in the world.

But instead of agreeing, something inside Sunghoon snaps. He realizes that every time he’s around them, they make him feel worse about himself. About everything.

“You know what? I’m done,” he mutters, standing up and walking away, ignoring their confused calls after him.

For the first time in a long time, Sunghoon feels like he’s doing something right.

He starts studying more seriously, forcing himself to focus during lectures and spending time in the library instead of at parties. It’s frustrating at first—everything feels harder without someone to guide him. But little by little, he starts to understand the material.

When his professor hands back their graded exams weeks later, Sunghoon’s heart pounds in his chest. He flips it over and stares at the bold “B” at the top of the page. It’s not an A, but it’s the best grade he’s gotten all semester.

He wants to text you immediately, to show you that he’s not the same person you yelled at. He types out a message, attaching a picture of the exam: “Look, I actually passed! I wouldn’t have been able to do this without your help."

But the text sits unread, as do all the other ones he had sent you.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You’re just leaving work when you see him waiting outside, a piece of paper clutched tightly in his hand.

“Sunghoon?” you ask, stopping in your tracks.

He looks nervous but determined. “Can I talk to you? Just for a minute?”

You sigh, crossing your arms. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

He steps closer, holding up the exam. “I just… wanted to show you this. I got a B.”

You glance at the grade and then back at him. “Ok,” you say flatly, trying to walk past him, but he moves to block your path.

“Please,” he says. “I need to say this.”

You pause, your exhaustion fighting with your curiosity. “What could you possibly have to say to me?”

“I’m sorry,” he starts, his voice soft but steady. “Not just for wasting your time or blowing you off during tutoring. For everything. For how I treated you in high school, for standing by when my friends were jerks to you. I was a coward, and I didn’t know how to deal with… anything, honestly.”

His words catch you off guard, and you find yourself staring at him, speechless.

“I’m not trying to excuse it. I just wanted you to know that I hate the way I treated you. I hate that I hurt you. And I hate that I gave you every reason to think I’m just some… useless asshole.” He takes a deep breath. “But I’m trying. I’ve been trying to change. To prove to myself that I’m not that guy anymore.”

You let his words sink in, the anger and hurt you’ve carried for years simmering just beneath the surface.

“You’re right,” you finally say. “You were a coward. And you did hurt me.”

He flinches, but you keep going.

“But… I can see you’re trying. And I respect that.”

His eyes light up with a glimmer of hope. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

You hesitate, your heart pounding. “It means I’m not as mad at you anymore. But trust takes time, Sunghoon. You’ll have to prove it.”

“I will,” he promises, his voice earnest. “I won’t let you down again.”

With that, you finally let yourself smile, just a little. “We’ll see.”

As you walk away, you can’t help but feel like something has shifted. Maybe, just maybe, people really can change.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

It’s been a few weeks since the two of you started working together again. Sunghoon is doing better in class—much better, actually—and has taken a noticeable turn for the better in life. He’s distanced himself from his old friends, who never did much for him except drag him down.

As much as you still don’t fully trust him, you can’t ignore how much he’s changed. He’s more focused now, more respectful, and maybe, just maybe, even a little bit likable.

And to your surprise, you’re starting to enjoy spending time with him, both in and out of tutoring. He’s always there now, walking to class with you, grabbing coffee, or just hanging out in the library when you’re working on assignments. He even comes along with you, Liz, and Wonyoung for some of your late-night hangouts, laughing along with your jokes, even if he doesn’t quite understand all the girl talk.

Liz and Wonyoung start giving each other knowing looks, and one night, after Sunghoon heads home, Liz grins mischievously.

“So, what’s going on between you two?” she asks casually.

You freeze. “What do you mean?”

Wonyoung snickers. “You two spend so much time together, and we see the way he looks at you. You sure you’re not into him?”

You shake your head, a nervous laugh escaping. “No. Definitely not. We’re just tutoring partners.”

Liz raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, right. If that’s true, then why are you so distracted every time he texts you? Why do you smile like that when his name pops up?”

You feel your face flush. “Shut up,” you mutter, pulling a pillow over your face. “I don’t like him. I just—he’s been there for me, ok? He’s changed.”

“Sure, sure,” Liz teases. “But you’re definitely into him. Don’t worry, we won't judge you.”

You groan into the pillow, but part of you wonders if they’re right. You’ve been trying to ignore the flutter in your chest when he’s near, the way your heart speeds up when he smiles at you or gives you one of those rare, genuine compliments. But you push it all aside. You don’t want to get hurt again, not after everything that happened in high school.

So, you keep things casual. You hang out, study together, laugh at his lame jokes, but you keep a distance.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, has been wrestling with his feelings for a while. He knows, deep down, that he likes you. And not just in a surface-level, "oh, she's cute" way. He values your company more than he thought possible. Your patience, your intelligence, your warmth—everything about you pulls him in, and every time he sees you, he wants to be closer.

But you’ve been pulling away recently, and it’s driving him crazy. He doesn’t know what’s changed, but he can feel the distance. And he doesn’t like it. Not at all.

So, after days of thinking it over, he makes up his mind. He can’t keep pretending he’s okay with just being your friend, your tutoring client. He decides to tell you how he feels, ignoring the risk and the burn of anxiety in his chest.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

It’s another Friday night when he shows up at your dorm, unannounced. Liz and Wonyoung are with you, watching a movie and chatting when you hear a knock at the door.

“Ugh, who’s that?” Liz mumbles as she gets up to answer it.

When she opens the door, Sunghoon stands there, his hands in his pockets and an anxious look on his face.

“I need to talk to Y/N,” he says, glancing over her shoulder at you.

“Uh, no, we’re having a girls’ night,” Liz says with a playful but firm tone. “What’s up, Hoon?”

Sunghoon looks from Liz to Wonyoung, then back at you. “I—I need to talk to her. It’s important.”

There’s something so serious in his eyes that it catches your attention. You stand up slowly, excusing yourself from the couch.

“Fine, fine, I’ll leave you two alone,” Liz says with a wink, grabbing Wonyoung’s hand and dragging her out of the room.

Once the door clicks shut, Sunghoon steps forward. His nervousness is palpable.

“Listen, I don’t know how to say this properly, but I can’t keep pretending like I don’t feel this way,” he starts, looking at you with a vulnerability that’s hard to ignore. “I’ve been an idiot, and I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t. But I like you, Y/N. I don’t know how else to say it, but I do.”

You blink at him, taken aback.

“I like you,” he repeats, more firmly this time, stepping closer. “And I think… I think I’ve liked you for a while now. I know this might sound out of nowhere, but I’ve been holding it in and pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. You’re the person I want to be around. You’re the person I want to be with. So, I’m asking you…” He takes a deep breath. “Will you go out with me?”

You stand frozen, feeling a rush of emotions flood over you. The mix of confusion, joy, and fear swirls inside you. Your heart races in your chest as his words settle in.

It feels unreal—like this is some dream where everything is finally falling into place. But even so, you hesitate, unsure if you’re ready to take the leap.

But as you look at him, his earnest face, his sincerity, and the way he’s looking at you with so much hope, you can’t help but say it.

“Yes.”

Sunghoon’s face lights up, relief flooding through him as a wide smile spreads across his face. He reaches out to take your hand gently.

“I promise I won’t mess this up,” he says, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next day, Liz and Wonyoung don’t waste a single second, pouncing on you as soon as they see you.

“You’re dating Sunghoon now, aren’t you?” Liz asks, her grin stretching across her face.

You try to act casual, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you. “I guess I am.”

Wonyoung jumps up from her seat, practically tackling you in a hug. “Oh my God, we knew it! We knew it!”

Liz joins in the celebration, and you can’t help but laugh, even as the excitement bubbles up inside you. Sunghoon might’ve been a jerk before, but now, he’s someone you can trust. And for the first time in a long time, you’re excited to see where things go from here.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

AUTHOR'S NOTE 𝟅𝟈 ummmm i can't tell if i like this or not but oh well i'm too lazy to rewrite it. also sorry for so many text breaks i'm so bad at writing transitions. also thanks to my pookie kenzie for helping me think of the plot :3

[poisonlove]

Absolutely ignore/get rid of this is you don't wanna do it buttt

Can I request a Wednesday x Fem!reader where Wednesday has a general disregard for everyone and their feelings EXCEPT for her little situationship (reader) and it's just little instances where she's softer with her?

YOU | w.a

pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

A/N : I tried to satisfy your request as much as possible but Wednesday and reader don't have a situationship, they will develop... something ;)

"The most precious things in life are usually the most helpless." Penn Badgley

Wednesday Addams walked along the corridors of Nevermore Academy with a brisk yet graceful step, the sound of her shoes against the cold marble determining her hurry to get to the library. The other students stepped aside as she passed, probably intimidated by her dark and menacing gaze that seemed carved into her features.

"Addams, one word"

Wednesday reluctantly stops, turning slightly and raising an eyebrow. Yoko Tanaka strides toward her, sunglasses perched on her head revealing a pleading look. Wednesday had no intention of wasting her time with her roommate’s best friend, but seeing the vampire in such a state of despair piqued her curiosity.

"What do you want Yoko?" Wednesday asked, her tone of voice deliberately rude. But the brunette didn't care at all.

"I need your help," Yoko began, trying to keep calm, but her voice betrayed a certain frustration. "Could you help me with Thornill's homework? I can't find the damn Moon Flower anywhere."

Wednesday could hardly believe her ears: how dare she interrupt her plans for something so stupid? With her classic impassive gaze, the brunette stared at Yoko in a prolonged silence that made her feel more and more uncomfortable.

"I don't care," Wednesday finally replied with venom and disinterest, surprising the vampire. "If you can't do such a stupid task, maybe you deserve to fail," the brunette added in a cutting tone.

"but it doesn't cost you anything!" Yoko exclaimed in despair.

Wednesday's behavior annoyed her deeply, but Yoko had hoped that following Enid's advice to be kind and tolerant would at least provide some relief. Apparently she was wrong.

"I said no, Yoko," Wednesday replied, her tone even more icy. Her gaze was steady and impenetrable, and her patience, already thin, was completely exhausted.

Yoko sighed deeply, realizing that pushing further would get her nowhere. She put her sunglasses back on in a quick, controlled motion, hiding her annoyance behind a forced smile. Her grin revealed her pointed canines, a gesture that might have seemed threatening in other circumstances, but here it only served to hide her irritation.

"ok, Addams"

with one last look, Yoko walked away, keeping that forced smile until she turned the corner. Wednesday didn't follow her with her gaze, already tired of that brief and, in her eyes, pointless interaction.

As she set off again, determined to finally reach the library, she was interrupted again. This time it was her two friends Ajax and Xavier who stopped her. The two approached quickly with an air of urgency that seemed to want to drag her into some other stupid discussion.

"Wednesday, can we talk to you for a moment?" Xavier asked hesitantly.

the brunette stopped again, clearly irritated now. her gaze narrowed to a slit of annoyance as she waited for them to speak.

"I have a problem with my new work... and I think you can help me," Xavier said, trying to be persuasive.

Wednesday looked at both of them coldly, her patience crumbling with every passing second. All of Nevermore ignored her and labeled her as the school freak, psychopathic and creepy... and now, by some strange twist of fate, everyone needed her today? She simply wanted to go to the library to further her research on poisons and their uses , see you , continue writing her story, or go to the cemetery later.

“I don't care,” she replied coldly, hoping Xavier would understand that she felt some urgency in leaving.

"Addams," Ajax intervenes, "I wanted to ask you for advice... you know that I'm interested in Enid and since you're her roommate..." the gorgon continues, purposely leaving the sentence hanging.

Wednesday stared at them in silence for a few moments, her impassive gaze betraying her impatience. "I don't care in the slightest about your problems and if you don't get out of my way immediately, I won't hesitate to make you regret this conversation" the brunette threatens in a low and cold tone.

Ajax and Xavier look at each other in confusion and fear, pondering Addams's words. They both knew Wedsnesday's reputation and the very real danger of being killed by the shorter girl terrified them.

they decided to step aside.

Wednesday continued on her way, completely ignoring them, while the two boys exchanged glances of resignation. The massive wooden doors finally loomed in the distance and the swarm of students' voices faded as she entered the less frequented part of Nevermore.

"WED!" an all-too-familiar voice shouts enthusiastically.

For the third time that day, Wednesday had to stop. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to suppress the killer instinct that threatened to surface and put an end to her blonde roommate's irritating exuberance. She was seriously starting to believe that it was a curse cast by her mother, some sort of psychological torture designed to test her patience. Unfortunately, it was far from her favorite torture, and she focused on something she knew would calm her down: you.

"Wednesday," Enid exclaimed, catching up with her with a beaming smile, "I was just looking for you... The Poe Cup is coming up again and we have to defend the title! You'll be there, right? We can't do it without you!"

Wednesday stared at the blonde, impassive. Entering the Poe Cup again was the last thing she wanted to do, but she knew Enid wouldn't give up so easily.

"I'll think about it," she replied, keeping her tone detached. She didn't want to seem too involved, but she didn't want to completely dampen Enid's enthusiasm either.

"Awesome!" Enid clapped her hands, thrilled by the response. Then she walked away, skipping happily down the hallway.

Wednesday watched her go, mentally wondering how Enid managed to maintain all that vitality. With a barely audible sigh, she finally resumed her walk towards the library. The brunette lifts the corners of her lips as she enters her haven of peace, looking at the shelves covered in books and dust.

the sound of footsteps echoes throughout the library, her figure getting lost among the endless avenues of shelves and books of Nevermore. Her diligently runs her fingers through the tomes, grazing their rough and fragile covers, the wisdom that hides within them. The few students who were there were busy reading or studying among the various desks scattered around that place, the silence broken only by the sound of the pages being turned.

but it is among those shelves that she finally sees: you

she knew basically the essential things about you: your name is Y/N; you are a year older than her, you are Italian, you love blue and your power is to control fire. You were very good friends with Yoko, for some strange reason, and you were a person who despite the aura of mystery and darkness that surrounded you, smiled and was kind to everyone.

she noticed you a few days ago and still hasn't figured out who you are. Were you really that nice? what's really bothering you Y/N?

Wednesday watched you intently, savoring your every move. She noticed the way you brushed your hair back from your face, the smile that lit up your face when you read something that excited you, and even the grimaces you made in response to bizarre or banal passages you encountered.

Some might call it stalking, but she's really just trying to understand you better.

her black eyes never left your figure: you were tall, you had a sharp jaw that accentuated your strong face and you had full lips that were somehow always ready to whisper something provocative or sarcastic. at that moment you had chosen to gather your hair in a messy bun, a practical choice but one that added a touch of carefree elegance to your appearance.

you were struggling with a pile of books that seemed to have a life of its own. Some had already fallen, scattering across the floor. You quickly bent down to pick them up, but each attempt only seemed to make things worse.

Were you disorganized or did your hunger for books make you so careless?

Wednesday realized it was the perfect time to come out of hiding. She approached you cautiously, then crouched down and picked up a couple of books. Her cold fingers landed on Wicked Plants: The Weed That Killed Lincoln's Mother and Other Botanical Atrocities by Amy Stewart, and a thin smile threatened to appear on her lips. She was almost certain that she was the only one, aside from maybe Thornill, who had read that book in the entire school. Finding out that you shared the same literary tastes hit her in a surprisingly pleasant way.

“Here.” Wednesday’s voice was almost a whisper, as if she were intimidated by the idea of an interaction.

your eyes lift from the floor to meet hers.

Wednesday held her breath. They were the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. You looked at her with curiosity, maybe surprise, but there was something in your eyes that made her feel strangely vulnerable.

“Thank you,” you croak embarrassedly, your cheeks pink knowing someone had witnessed your disaster.

“Maybe you should stop devouring more books than you can handle,” Wednesday said venomously. Her words were a wall behind which she hid the slight agitation she was trying to ignore.

you smile. Shouldn't you be annoyed by my answer?

"What's your name?" she asks curiously

Wednesday stared at you for a moment, cold as ever. “Wednesday,” she replied dryly, not giving anything away. But when you smiled again, the brunette felt a shiver run through her mind, one she tried desperately to ignore.

“Happy reading,” Wednesday adds quickly, turning around as she notices the slight look of confusion crossing your face. It was clear that you wanted to continue the conversation, maybe tell her your name, but Wednesday couldn’t stand there beside you without feeling her body boil.

she needed to leave the library and distract her mind

would have continued after the search, with the necessary calm

but there was an unexpected relief in knowing that she now knew her name

just like she knew yours.

A/N: yes I know, very inspired by the YOU series

[honeyryewhiskey]

but, i'm a cupid!

or, you’re a cupid, you can’t help the natural call to make two beings fall in love. even if it means bringing critters into the bunker when no ones looking.  cw!! fluff, spn lore on cupids is bland so yes i’m adding to it, grumpy x sunshine trope 1.3k words

the bunker had been under a quiet hum for quite some time now, sam in the library organizing and filing while dean sat in the war room looking for cases. the older winchester had nearly forgotten about the little angel cas left in their care a few weeks ago. a cupid, to be precise. 

at first he absolutely refused, claimed they weren’t a daycare for heaven’s flight crew. but cas, being a busy man, simply left the brothers standing in the bunker with a smiley little cherub. unlike most angels dean has met, you were sickeningly sweet, incredibly helpless at times, and though he would never admit it— adorable, too. 

you tried to be helpful, like quietly stepping in to do the chores sam and dean argued over. but it’s not like you really knew what you were doing. like the time dean tiredly shuffled into the kitchen one morning, opening the cupboard to find bacon, milk, and eggs stashed in there. when he started on an angry roll of name calling, it was your tear filled eyes and pouty lips that made him shut up quick. that afternoon was spent teaching you what food goes in the fridge. 

or the time you tried to fix up the impala, completely unaware that spray paint doesn’t cover up scratches. when dean strolled into the garage, expecting to take a sweet sunday joy ride just to find his baby had been vandalised, his shouts damn near shook the entire bunker. when he found you with paint stained fingertips and that pathetic wobbly lip, his anger dissipated. you settled on a promise to never under any circumstances ever touch baby again. 

now, as he sits before the glow of sam’s laptop, the quiet begins to feel entirely unsettling. he leaves his spot, heading for the library. when he doesn’t see you taking on your usual little helper tasks with sam his brows furrow. 

“have you seen the little bird?” 

sam looks up from his pile of books and paper, “no,” he shrugs, “i thought she was with you.”

that damn cupid is up to something, he thinks to himself. 

with a sigh dean turns, setting off to sweep the bunker. the kitchen is quiet, empty. at least the food is safe he assures himself. heading down stairs into the hall of bedrooms he finds your room empty as well. as he heads towards the dungeon, the last place he’d expect you as you once described it as dark and spooky, a muffled giggle stops him in his tracks. 

he waits, listening, as he hears it again coming from sam’s bedroom. he quietly approaches the door, gently pushing it open to find you kneeling on the ground with your back to the door. 

“what the hell are you doing, lovebird?” he crosses the room, standing over you and what he can now see to be a pair of brown fluffy rabbits. 

startled, you look up at him with wide eyes, “nothing.” you smile. his heart does that stupid little flutter that seems to only happen when you smile at him like that. all sweet with a pinch of mischief. 

“right,” his brows knit together as he points at the rabbits, “this is nothing?” 

a little humph leaves your lips as you rise to your feet, crossing your arms and looking up at dean with a determined scowl across your face, “i’m matchmaking, if you must know. these two have been hopping around outside for days and i could practically smell how much they need each other.” 

he looks between you and the critters a few times, “yeah, no, we’re not doing this. no rabbits— no animals of any kind allowed in the bunker.”

 his heart pangs as you jut out your bottom lip, eyes growing glossy. damn this pathetically cute little thing. his hands instinctively cup your face, “hey, hey, lovebird. no crying, remember?” his voice gruff, barely masking his annoyance.

you sniffle, biting your cheek to stop the tears brimming your lashes. you can’t always help the crying, cupids are naturally empathetic creatures with no qualms about showing their emotions. dean thumbs your cheeks, giving a light squeeze to one side. 

“but i’m a cupid!” you cry out, “i can’t help wanting to help them fall in love.” 

“rabbits don’t fall in love!” he drops his hands from your face, trying to find his words despite the absurdity of yours. “they mate, like the saying, ‘mate like rabbits’ there's no love happening here.” 

you stare up at him, wiping stray tears as some terrible thought makes your face turn sour. “so, like you?” your voice reflects the absolute devastation you feel at the realization. 

“oh what now?” dean groans.

“they’re like you! mating with no love.” you whimper. it’s no secret dean moves about women with everything except love. it was one of the first things you noticed about him, a spider's web of potential love stories that never takes because he’s swatting them away before anything divine can happen. you could have easily fixed this, but something about dean getting sweet with another woman makes your heart feel heavy. besides, dean asked you specifically not to matchmake with humans while you were on earth. so, the itch to use your skills was killing you and a perfectly innocent set of rabbits happened to be right outside the bunker. 

dean shoots you an incredulous look before shaking his head, “alright, i’m gunna pretend you didn’t just say that, little bird. we’re getting these things out. now.” he brushes past you, reaching for the rabbits far too slowly and aggressively, making them scurry off in opposite directions. 

“great!” you shout, “you scared them! now they’ll never even mate!” you drop to your knees, cooing gently at the fluff hiding underneath the bed. 

dean paces behind you, eyes squeezed shut as he musters up all the patience in the world, “hold on,” he stops abruptly, tilting his head to you, “why are you in sam’s room?” 

a shy smile finds your lips at you meet his quizzical gaze, “sam doesn’t say no nearly as often as you do. i thought if he saw how cute the bunnies are, he’d be on my side and i’d get to keep them and their love babies.” 

as much as dean would love to think your words fill him with nothing but anger and annoyance, your innocently sharp manipulation is rather fascinating. you were right, sam doesn’t like to say no and he was more fond of having pets than his older brother is, but dean would have put an end to this little scheme one way or another. 

as you lie half under the bed now, reaching for one of the rabbits, dean notices the little black droppings peppering the room. sam’s room.

“actually, lovebird,” he smirks, “why don’t we leave those two alone for a bit, see if your matchmaking skills really can work on the wildlife.” 

your excitement at his words makes you scramble off of the ground, peering up at him with a hopeful smile, “really? you think it’ll work?” 

“mhm,” he grins, stealing your hand in his, “let’s give ‘em some space, i’ll watch that reality show you love and let you tell me which ones are fated souls and all that cupid stuff you talk about.” 

➹

you sat with your legs crossed on the couch, dean beside you with a beer in hand and an amused grin as you raddled off all the little quirks that are tell-tale signs of a cupid’s work. on the other side of the bunker there's a clunk of commotion that startles you, but dean hardly reacts, his grin morphing into a satisfied smirk. 

“what was that?” you grab dean’s arm, shuffling closer to him.

“give it a sec.” he responds cooly. within seconds sam is stomping into the room, bewildered and clearly annoyed. 

“why,” he huffs, “are there rabbits shitting all over my room?” 

“oh no.” you whimper, sinking deeper into the couch, hiding your head under dean’s arm. 

“the little angel brought you a gift, sammy,” the older winchester let’s out an uncontrollable laugh, watching his frazzled brother with pure amusement, “don’t you just love it?” 

y'all i am not used to writing without angst or an emotional overtone so pls lmk if this sucks lol

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hi 👋🏻 Lou!! Congratulations 🎊🎉 on 6k!!

So how about Arranged Marriage w/ Simon?

Again congrats to 6k 🙃💛🦡

.⋆｡Give 'Em Hell｡⋆.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x plus size reader

Your parents think you need to get married and settle down, so they called in a favour. A big military man of a husband might do you some good just not in the way they think

Warnings: arranged marriage, sort of sugar baby/daddy relationship, misogynist parents, future revenge, mention of hook-ups WC: 986

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You often wondered about the true scope of your family’s stupidity. Sure, there were moments in your childhood where you had the vivid thought that no one could be as ignorant and blatantly idiotic as your parents were but somehow, they had absolutely hit rock bottom of moronic decisions.

“What the fuck do you mean I’m getting married?” Your mother gasped.

“Watch your tone young lady, that is no way to speak to your parents.” She scolded as your father’s expression hardened. There was no question that your parents were ‘traditional’ believing that women were less than their male counterparts in every way but while they had constantly lectured you on those beliefs, they hadn’t gone so far as to inflict them upon you, until now at least. They even helped you and encouraged you through college!

“You’ve been running wild long enough, it’s time for you to do your duty,” you fought the urge to roll your eyes, “We’ve let you chase your silly little dreams but you’re getting older and your clock is ticking.” Your father clicked his tongue and reached for the tumbler of expensive bourbon on the table beside his recliner.

“We’ve picked out a good man!” Your mother chirped from her place on the expensive love seat next to your father, “He’s highly decorated in the military, he can give you a good life.”

“I don’t give a shit about that! I’m not marrying anybody! Period!” You snarled. Anger curled in your gut, turning your tone sour.

Your father’s glass slammed down onto the wood, making your mother flinch. “You will marry him or I will make your life a living hell. I make one call and no one will want to hire you, not even as a fucking garbage collector. You know the connections I have. Suck it up and be a responsible adult for once.” 

——————

“I don’t want a husband.” The man across from you made a sound that you thought might have been a laugh. Simon, as you had learned from your parents, was a Lieutenant in a special ops task force. Never married, no family to speak of and copious amounts of money, your mother had gleefully added as she literally dragged you into the official-looking building where you would be meeting your future spouse.

He was by all means, an intimidating man. Almost 6 and a half feet tall and wearing a stupid balaclava with a skull on it, he looked more fitting being in a slasher movie than in a conference room negotiating marriage stipulations. His bulky, tattooed arms were crossed over his chest, somehow making him seem even bigger to you, as he leaned back in his chair.

“I don’t want a wife.” Your eyebrows furrowed at that. 

“Then why are you here?” 

His massive shoulders rolled back as his head tilted, cracking his neck. “Same as you— orders.” You hummed under your breath and forced your gaze away from his tanned arms and up to his eyes. He was obviously a quiet man but in no way did that intimidate you. He seemed more pissed off at your father who had so rudely guided (shoved) you into the room than he did at you.

You cleared your throat. “I won’t fuck you.” This time, his laugh was more discernible. His broad chest rumbled with the sound.

“‘M not expecting you to, not unless you beg,” you made a face at him but Simon continued, “I get deployed most of the time, I’d just like someone to take care of the house and spend my money.”

“So I would be your sugar baby.” He shrugged.

“If that’s what ya wanna call it. Do what cha want, I don’t care. We just need to show up to official events together.” 

You planted your elbows on the table between you and stared into his brown eyes. Simon didn’t waver. “So you wouldn’t have an issue with me getting a job?”

“None.” He answered quickly.

“Going back to school?”

“I’d happily pay for it.” You raised an eyebrow before a devious smirk crossed your lips.

“Get a lover?” His eyes blazed while he mirrored your position, the swivel chair beneath him groaning with his mass as he leaned forwards, planting his massive palms onto the table.

“I’d like to see you try.” Against your will, heat raced through your body, setting your nerves alight with the thrum of arousal.  Simon’s mask shifted and you imagined that he was smirking at you. 

You tamped down the feeling of wetness between your soft thighs, forcing yourself to remember exactly why you were in this situation in the first place. “You’re a lot different than I was expecting.”

He huffed. “So are you. Thought I was getting stuck with some bratty trust fund baby who’s never even set foot in a thrift store.”

“I thought you were gonna be a crusty old man who wanted me to put out so he could feel better about his broken dick and receding hairline.” Silence settled between you before suddenly, you both broke into peels of laughter, an oppressive weight suddenly lifted from the room. 

You were relieved; Simon seemed at least like a decent human being if nothing else and it appeared that you could continue living your life, although without the occasional hook up here and there. But considering how handsome you presumed your almost husband to be, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

“I guess we both got lucky didn’t we?” You wiped the tears from your eyes.

“Or just benefitting from the sheer incompetence of the people that thought this was a good idea.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“So, should we do this then?” You asked. Simon rose from his seat and offered you his hand, which you didn’t hesitate to take. As he pulled you to your feet, he uttered:

“Let’s give ‘em hell.”

Modern Warfare Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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Ghost/Simon Riley

@babygirl-riley

[brights-place]

Can i request Jack, who asks Leona for advice on how to confess to the reader? (But the advice is bad:)))

[TWST] Jack Howl x Reader

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: OKAY SO I STUDY ANIMALS MOST AUTHORS THAT IM MUTUALS WITH KNOW THIS because I love animals so I 100% love this request because I can nerd out! and I made this a one shot because I LOVE THIS REQUEST SO MUCH!

Summary: Jack Howl fell in love with the Ramshackle prefect and he couldn't help but ask Leona for some advice on how to court you into a relationship which seemed to have gone... wrong in very awkward ways...

Jack Howl, seemed to start clinging around you more. Standing beside you in most situations, glaring down at those that hassle you, making sure to help you by carrying your things and daily tasks. He waved it off as he wanted nothing out of it and he wanted to help as he said you were struggling so he helped nothing else.

Yet you always noticed how his tail puffed out ears twitching, trying to hold back a small flushed reaction to whenever you praise him or hold his hand dragging him away to do something ‘fun’

But throughout the weeks he started to grow more fond starting to feel his chest squeeze tighter when you were around, finding you whenever easily due to his keen sense of smell, and slowly these feelings grew more that when you cupped his face in your hands and went to take off something from his hair he knew that he wanted to court you. Who better than to ask advice than Leona Kingscholar himself.

Jack stared at Leona who was laying on his bed shirtless form a nap, lazily pulling himself up ear twitching and glaring at Jack who spoke “I need advice to court the prefect” Silence filled the room.

Yet in a short moment Leona let out a snort, a sly smirk reached his lips “You want to court the herbivore?” the stern nod that Jack gave made Leona let out a huff knowing that the wolf beast man would not leave until he would help.

1. Create more Social interactions, try to get closer to them Jack was sat beside you in the library. The Group of first years hanging out for a study session chatting away in the background like empty noise. His attention only watching you, how fingers wrap around a pencil, eyes focused on what you were sketching noticing the detail and effort you added onto the paper. His voice was slightly gruff as he awkwardly spoke looking away, ears twitching "Is that one of the plants from your world?" Your eyes lifted from your page. The flower drawing on your page was small but detailed. "Yeah... it's my favourite... they all have meanings" Jack blinked nodding his head noticing how your lips twitched up as he leaned closer to here you talk more about it blinking and nodding his head watching how animated you got talking about things... His tail slowly moving back and fourth.

2. Assert Dominance (What the fu-)

Jack blinked confused at Leona's words. The Lion beastman raising a brow at Jack who spoke "Assert Dominance...?" "Get all the other meatheads away make sure they know that your courting the herbivore" "Did you have to say it like that" "Lions have rules through courting you could ask these questions to Ruggie yet we all know... Hyena beastman rituals are different to others" Ruggie deadpanned holding a basket of Leona's laundry and spoke "I don't see you having a partner" Leona sneered at Ruggie who rolled his eyes taking money sneakily out of Leona's wallet. Jack stared at the scene huffing before leaving to find you. The past day's Jack has stood around you waving off any other people who showed interest in courting you. Subtly of course but He knew how you were trying not to giggle when a student was glared at by him or how he'd subtly shield you from others glaring at them. 3. Mark your partner, scent or show signs or actions of being able to take care of them

Jack wasn't one for grand gestures. He wasn’t smooth like some of the other students, didn’t have the charisma or charm to fluster someone with a wink. But he paid attention.

Your bag was heavier than usual. Books, maybe. Or those herbs you liked collecting from the greenhouse and Jack notice. He didn't say anything he just quietly took the strap from your shoulder and slung it over his own as you walked side by side. When you looked up at him, surprised, he muttered a quick, “Looks heavy,” before facing forward again, ears twitching nervously.

You passed a stall in the courtyard that sold food from different regions. Your eyes lingered a second too long on a pastry. The next day, it was in your locker no note, but the wrapping was fresh. Jack walked by you later, like nothing happened, but his tail flicked faster than usual.

He wasn’t loud about it. But in every gesture quiet, thoughtful, deliberate Jack made sure you knew that he cared.

4. Confession

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting warm golds and soft purples across the Savannaclaw training field. Most students had cleared out already, but you stayed behind, leaning on the fence watching Jack finish his cooldown routine. His movements were sharp, practiced. You could tell he’d been pushing himself harder lately. He jogged over, fur slightly damp with sweat, panting lightly. “Didn’t think you’d still be here,” he said, catching his breath while you shrugged smiling at him softly “Figured I’d wait. You looked focused.”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck, ears twitching as his tail slightly moved “Y-Yeah... had some stuff on my mind.” You tilted your head, sensing the shift in his energy. He wasn’t looking at you yet, eyes fixed somewhere near your shoes, tail swaying low behind him more.

“I’ve been thinkin’...” he started, voice unusually careful. “You’re... important to me. I notice when you're not around. I find myself wanting to talk to you, be near you. I’ve never really done this kind of thing before, but...”

Now he looked at you steady, but a bit nervous. His brows furrowed in that familiar way when he was trying to be brave. “Could I... Would you want to date me?” he asked, ears pinned slightly back, voice rougher than usual but completely sincere. “Like... officially. Not just... whatever this is now. I wanna be someone you can rely on. Someone you can count on.”

There was a silence that felt full not awkward just hanging between you like a held breath. Then your smile came, and when it did, Jack’s ears twitched forward, hope flickering in his eyes like a flame waiting to catch.

Your hands held his as you smiled “So that’s what your behaviour was all about.” “I was trying to court you...” Jack muttered, looking away He tried to downplay how he felt much more, but you only smiled wider voice lifting through the air “You free Saturday?” “Uh—yeah...” Jack said quickly, eyes wide. Maybe taking Leona’s advice had been worth it after all.

[midnitetech]

Holistic Health Consultant Career (Semi-Active)

Hey everyone! I (finally) have a brand new career for you to play with! This has definitely given me a few headaches fixing annoyances and making it just how I envisioned, but I'm very happy with the result- I really hope you like it!

It's a full-time, semi-active career, with 10 levels, countless assignments/tasks etc. There's a different Daily Task for every single level, and I've created Chance Cards, Adventure Moments, plenty of buffs and new, immersive interactions.

For those of you (like me) who don’t fancy trekking to Granite Falls every time you need ingredients, I’ve added a custom rabbithole shop: The Green Apothecary! It stocks all the essentials for leveling up your Herbalism Skill and crafting remedies, making things much more convenient. 🌿

If you have Discover University and a Biology degree, you’ll jumpstart your career at Level 4! I’ve set this up as a start level modifier to avoid conflicts with other creators’ career tuning files, but if you prefer the standard approach, let me know.

I can’t wait to hear what you think—happy Simming! 😊

⚠️REQUIRED⚠️

🌐Lot 51's Core Library ����midnitetech_modlibrary 🎮Required DLC: 🪷Spa Day 🏕️Outdoor Retreat

ℹ️ Note: To prevent potential game-breaking updates in the future, I've removed all override tuning files. Now, you can publish your Wellness Books through Simazon, or the new custom mailbox options using my Write Books Overhaul mod!

Get help, reach out, or explore more of my creations—all in one place!

Download to C:\Users\....\Documents\Electronic Arts\The Sims 4\Mods Don't forget Lot 51's Core Library and 📁midnitetech_modlibrary—script files must be no more than 1 folder deep.

PATREON (free)

[wordsarelife]

—august

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: mattheo chose you and still you wonder why he even broke up with his ex in the first place

warnings: feeling like the wrong choice, insecure reader, angst but fluff ending

notes: i just wrote a little drabble since i already had a planned fic ready for lacy, i hope you still like it!

her hair was flowing effortlessly over her shoulders, caressing her back like it was some sort of clothing. she looked effortlessly pretty in general, soft pink lips and warm brown eyes reflecting the light of the sun when she would walk through the courtyard.

and the worst thing about her? she was nice. simply put. you couldn’t even manage to hate her, because next to being beautiful, she had a charming personality, a great sense of humor and friends everywhere she went.

you had understood if she had hated you. you, the new girlfriend of her first great love. but she didn’t and that made it impossibly worse.

“hey, y/n” she had greeted one morning, a smile plastered on her face and happiness reflecting in her eyes. “theo mentioned that you had some problems regarding the divination essay” she said and added, before you were able to retort something: “i finished mine a few days ago and thought it might help you to read over it. it was indeed a very hard task, i struggled too”

“oh” you had said, dumbfounded, and stared at the pieces of parchment she was holding in your direction. “thank you, aurora”

“no problem” she grinned. “and rory is fine, all my friends call me that”

she had left in a hurry, having to return books to the library, and you spent your time looking after her in awe, surprise and insecurity flooding your features.

it was beyond you why mattheo had decided to break up with her. aurora turner was simply perfect and you certainly weren’t.

"what's going on in there, huh?" mattheo slipped into the space beside you, touching your head with one of his fingers softly.

"oh, nothing" you quickly excused, taking your eyes off of aurora and looking to the book in front of you. "this reading for muggle studies is just taking up my brain"

"romeo and juliet?" mattheo questioned, studying the leatherbound book.

"yeah" you sighed. "the english is kinda off"

"i know" he shrugged, turning the book around in his hands and opening it to a random page.

"you know?" you repeated, trying not to laugh. "i never as much saw you look at a book before"

"i liked this one" he smiled.

your smirk died down. "oh, i didn't know that" you tried to find his eyes. "why did you never mention it? i would've read it sooner then"

"it's not a big deal, that was ages ago" he paused, unsure if it was okay to finish the sentence, but you urged him on, nodding repeatedly so he would continue. "rory liked it"

"oh" you said plainly, before you realized that your reaction was all the more telling of your inner jealousy and insecurity about his old relationship. "i mean cool"

"y/n" mattheo muttered, laying the book down in front of you. "it really doesn't matter. we don't even have to mention it again"

"i don't want you to feel like you can't tell me something, just because you experienced it with your ex" you smiled, but it was costing you all your strength. "you can talk about the past, it doesn't bother me"

"that's clearly a lie" mattheo saw through you completely. "you shouldn't have to hide your feelings to make me feel better"

you sighed, realising that it was to no use to lie to him. "sorry, i just—" you shook your head "i don't even know why you decided to break up with her in the first place and i think i'm scared that you'll realize that at one point too"

mattheo looked at you with a soft smile, his gaze searching your eyes as if trying to convey everything he felt with just that look. "y/n, i'm gonna be honest. it’s not that rory wasn’t great," he began, his tone gentle. "she is a really good person, and there was nothing wrong with her. but that doesn’t mean she was the right person for me."

you blinked, trying to process his words as he continued.

"i realized that being with someone just because they seem perfect on the surface doesn’t mean it’s the right fit. we just didn’t connect in the way i needed. with you..." he hesitated, as if searching for the right words, "...it’s different. you make me feel understood. you get me in a way that no one else does."

you looked at him with so much admiration that he had to look down, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red.

"look" he said, when he was able to look in your eyes again. "dating rory was like constantly standing on a pedestal and people expecting me to be something different than i was. that didn't feel right, and it shouldn't. but being with you feels like coming home after a long day, realizing that there's someone in my corner even if no one else likes me for who i am and not for who they see in me"

"i didn't know you felt like that" you muttered, ashamed that you had possibly made him uncomfortable.

"i don't, not anymore" he smiled. "not since i met you. because i don't care about the others. i just care about us, you and me"

"i love you" you said as he kissed your cheek, pulling you closer by your waist.

"i love you" mattheo mumbled against your mouth. "don't ever think you're worth less than her, just because you're not her. if anything that's what makes you more special to me"

you nodded, teary-eyed, as he pushed his lips forward to meet yours. your hands toyed with the hem of his curls as he deepend the kiss.

after that day you never questioned mattheo's choice again. and you could see that both him and rory held a lot of respect for each other. but both were not even interested in anything deeper. mattheo never looked up when he heard her voice anywhere. rory never came to the tree you had often seen them kissing at, back when they had been together.

you realized that being enough for mattheo had never meant being perfect—it had only ever meant being yourself.

[aheathen-conceivably]

The makings of a library were whirling to life around Zelda. For now, it was filled with the sounds of a construction zone - hammers striking, heavy boots stomping, the rough voices of a dozen men filling their work day with crude jokes and whistled radio tunes. Somehow, even amidst the noise and dusty work, Zelda’s voice was loud enough to be heard. 

“Well the collection should be here by the end of the month so proceed with the shelving first. We can retrofit the fixings in the bathroom after that, but that way we won’t have to find a place for the books while it’s being done.”

The foreman nodded his head, mentally adding every word she spoke onto the ever growing to-do list in his hand. “And place an order for the wallpaper in the children’s room. If we want it done by opening it will need to ship by Monday, and I know their deadline is at the end of the week. We’ll need six rolls if my count is correct.”

The foreman nodded, moving his pen to jot down her order when she noticed Alexander approaching. Seeing him, Zelda gestured back toward the list they had been writing, anticipating that the foreman would want to inquire with Alexander about how to proceed as well. Instead Alexander waved his hand slightly, nodding at her as he spoke. “No, no. Don’t let me interrupt.”

She turned back in the foreman’s direction, his eyebrow still slightly raised and an empty line next to the amount of wallpaper he needed to ordered. For a moment she thought to look back at Alexander, but even with him standing there she realized that the foreman was looking to her for confirmation. 

“Yes. It's six rolls. And another quart of adhesion for application.”

His footsteps moved away, joining the noisy hubbub coming from what had once been the silent dining room. Zelda watched as he called out instructions and familiar jokes to the men working there. She had thought that the workers’ presence would disquiet her, disrupting the ghosts and the dust that she had found so mesmerizing when she had first arrived; but with every patched hole and cleaned window, she could feel the life returning to these rooms.

She turned back to Alexander, who had been looking up toward the scaffolding while she was musing. She cleared her throat gently, as they often did to get one another’s attention, and he turned back to her readily. “Oh! Perfect. Will you come with me for a moment? There’s something I’d like to show you.”

She followed him upstairs into the main hall, where work was ongoing for what was to become the children’s room. Layers of old, mildew-worn wallpaper had been stripped to be replaced by new patterns of forest animals and plants, just as her childhood bedroom had once been. They turned just before it, stepping over errant nails and boards as he reached to open the door to a small room. “Your office, Mrs. Duplanchier.”

Her eyes stayed trained on him, somehow a bit in shock after working from whatever clean corner they could find for weeks. “My - my office?”

“Well ours, technically. ‘Library Administration’, but the city has elected for me to keep my space at town hall, so I imagine it shall be mostly yours, if you’re up for the task.”

There wasn’t much to it. A pair of windows, a desk, and a chair that looked like it had been there since 1909. But mostly, it was filled with books that Alexander had transported from town hall one by one, each too rare or old to be moved stacked in boxes or in the back of rented grain trucks.

For no reason in particular, the simplicity of it all gave her confidence.

“I am.”

“Good.” He spoke kindly, walking into the space and absently wiping some dust away from the desk. “It appears that the WPA has taken an interest in the town. They haven’t said anything to the public yet of course, but they’re opening a field office here. They’ve written to me to collect information about potential projects. My primary goal will still be at the library, of course, but there’s alot of good we can do if we direct those federal dollars in the right way.” 

The scale of it all suddenly stupefied Zelda. After weeks of sorting through grant money and federal funds she had thought that she understood the purpose of it all, but when she considered it all in its totality - on a national level - it was beyond her. Bridges and dams. Roads and schools. Projects in the arts and culture. So many lives would be changed; and there was so much to it that even the concept of a field office - here - was enough to send her mind into a tizzy. It was hard to even formulate a full question about it.

“Potential projects?”

“Infrastructure, mostly. At least for now. Roadwork, bridge repair, that sort of thing. They want a list of working men as soon as possible. I’m sure they’ll hire more, but at least a starting few so that when the office opens they can begin right away. If you know of anyone it’s the least I can do to repay the trust you had in this project from the start.”

If you know of anyone. “And the project will be moving forward? You’re certain of it?”

“With surety. They begin work on the first of next month. Although I’m sure they’ll want to train a starting crew before that, so get any names you’d like to me as soon as you can.”

If you know of anyone. Her heart sank at the thought, immediately seeing a face in her mind as she turned to look out the window of her new second story office. Because every morning before work she looked out at her own backyard, just hoping that she would see miracle there. But instead, day after day, she only saw a single pair of slumped shoulders standing amidst the withering crops at sunrise.

Previous / Next

[mananoir]

Sol dating someone with ADHD (Tkatb)

Would listen to your hyper fixations all day everyday, he would smile, nod along, even break into your house and leave you things related to your hyper fixation! (he wants his soulmate to be happy)

Y/n is sitting next to sol on the rooftop rambling on about their latest hyper fixation “Sol! Did you know that sharks don’t have the ability to get cavities Oh and um they also develop…” Sol nods along to their rambling adding “really” here and there, little did y/n know tonight a new shark plushy would show up on their bed smelling exactly like sol… weird!

If you have sensory issues when it comes to food (like me) Sol would definitely make a whole new bento box just for you and your sensory issues (Hyugo gets really annoyed you get a better lunch)

The group is sitting in the library, as usual y/n talking about the new task their professor has given them “this uni is going to be the death of me you know guys” they say sighing slumping on the back of the chair. “Don’t get so knocked up about it y/n, at least we have Sol’s bento boxes” Hyugo claims, y/n swears they saw Hyugo lick his lips when he sees Sol place the three bento boxes on the table, handing them out one by one. Sol hands y/n one of the bento box’s with a slight smile, “I hope you like it y/n” he says, “I’m sure I will Sol!” Y/n chirps back. Opening it up they sees it’s completely different from the other two, no harsh smelling food or stringy pumpkin. It’s all the food they love! “Hey! Why does y/n get a better lunch than me!” Hyugo shouts looking at y/n’s bento box, Hyugo shouting cause Sol to flinch “be quiet” Sol says looking at y/n with a smirk as they look and inspecting the food. “Sol you didn’t have to do this, I mean making a complete different lunch for me? How did you even know these were my favourite?” They say glancing up at him. “I have my ways” sol says smirking.

If you have something coming up, maybe a meeting or something and you haven’t wrote it down on your physical planner, sol will go out of his way to break in and write it down so his little soulmate doesn’t forget! always and I mean always adding a „<3“ on the date.

It’s midnight and Sol is waiting outside y/n‘s window for them to go to sleep, hearing their breathing steady and little snores here and there he knew they were asleep. He stands up, opens their window and quietly sneaks in, Sol walks over to them grabbing their face gently. „Oh pumpkin, you’re so beautiful in your sleep“ Sol comments, resting his head on y/n‘s bed looking up at them. He stays there for a bit, watching them. After a bit Sol stands up his tall lanky figure stalking over y/n in their sleep, he then makes his way to their planner „what do you have on tomorrow pumpkin?“ Sol looks at their planner and realise they haven’t wrote the important job interview they have been talking about for months. „Oh my forgetful little pumpkin.“ Sol claims as he reaches for the pen to write it down so they don’t forget. “Job interview <3”

On the topic of forgetting important things sol loves your forgetfulness like loves it, why? Well let’s say you forgot to get the groceries again for the third time this week, he loves that he can pretend to be your little househusband running errands for you maybe even cooking for you sometimes, He just loves taking care of his pumpkin!

Y/n’s room was cold from the window being left open, moonlight filled the room as they twitch and and wiggle around in their sleep. Deep in sleep they didn’t even notice the whistling coming from the other room. fridge open, groceries on the bench and Sol putting them away one by one so his soon to be partner will be well fed for the week. “There we are, now pumpkin won’t go hungry” Sol claims as he closes the fridge walking to y/n’s bedroom. He walks over to them and places a kiss on their forehead. “goodnight my love”

If you get overwhelmed easily by uni work or your job, sol will be there for you when your freaking out.

„it’s okay pumpkin, don’t worry about one assignment“ Sol claims as y/n sit in his lap crying on his shoulder „I-i don’t understand it.“ they claim in between sobs and sniffles. Sol sits there trying to be in control and not loose it as they move around in his lap. He feels bad, he swears but their just so cute crying on his shoulder all weak. „Shhh it’s okay, how about we ask the professor about it? Would that help pumpkin?“ he runs his hand through their hair while he says that. „Y-yeah that would.“

[hazelfoureyes]

⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania

˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2 ˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦 ˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦

Alastor demands you tell him what you’d consider a nice date, which makes a surprisingly lovely time in the library. Dancing leads to… not dancing and a minor rearranging of your guts. And finally, you try to shame Alastor out of Mania and Alastor finds himself having to explain, well, Alastor.

「warnings/promises: Smut, guts➡️rearranged, kinda dub➡️con cuz Alastor still doesn’t listen, but funnily enough neither do you?, lots of interrupting each other, Luci’s hat, you’re down so fucking bad lmao」

🎶 minors DNI 🎵

Angel was live blogging everything you said when you recounted what happened to you after returning to the hotel.

“Wait there’s a character limit, I gotta make a new post.” He was wiping actual tears from his eyes, “Fuck this is funny.”

“Hmmph,” Alastor offered a small noise from his end of the sofa. Neither of you had mentioned or even referenced the sex. There was a strange feeling between you that it didn’t happen so it didn’t need a discussion. But also that it had absolutely happened, as Alastor’s hands found renewed vigor in their search for you when in public and private and your body seemed to respond in kind. You’d still occasionally move his hand off of you, but there was a pulse of electricity every time. When his hand would come to rest on your upper thigh while seated beside each other in the common areas, you let it linger. What harm was it? Heaven wasn’t fucking watching.

Everything aside, the sex had done nothing to dispel his interest. Perhaps you’d only made it worse, for both of you. 

By midweek you found the sling useless, happily tossing it aside and beginning gentle stretches. That was more progress than you'd made in your main task. 

Every morning you woke up beside Alastor, every day you had him in your orbit, every night you fell asleep feet from him.

Had Mania not taken him he would be a prime candidate for showing the virtue of true love. He was already fucking there, a captive audience. But that wasn’t how it worked. Cupid-induced manic love could never be true. Nothing you created was true, really. But atleast with Eros or Agape you could still have added the notion of  true love to the mix. His heart would still be receptive and open to the idea. The way he was now, you could proselytize until you were blue in the face and he’d still think manic love was true love. 

An unintended consequence of living with Alastor was discovering you both had quite a bit in common, as much as that information irked you. He enjoyed horror movies such as ‘Dracula’, you enjoyed horror movies as well, just newer ones. Ones in color. He could cook quite well, something you enjoyed to do. And his taste in music was actually lovely. You had assumed he listened to screams on a 7 hour loop.

Actually, upon closer inspection, Alastor was nothing like you had initially assumed. While he had shown you he was capable of terrifying feats of strength and power, he was also remarkably gentle. Every time you descended the stairs his hand was barely felt as it hovered at your elbow ready to save you. 

Early in the week you fell asleep watching the group play a board game, somehow redemption related, and awoke with his coat laid over your body. When you thanked him, he just smiled and continued enjoying watching Niffty hide the play money.

You were finding yourself more and more wishing the arrow had never fallen. If you’d just met him as you fell, perhaps you would be staring into that portal home. There were definitely worse options around. Even his imposing height had begun to…not bother you, perhaps was the best way to say it.

Or his large hands. There was a safety in the way they rested on your back. Speaking of…

Your throat ran dry when he leaned into you, one of those hands sliding across your thigh,  and asked against your ear, “Ready to go?”

He had to have seen you licking your lips to unstick your teeth. With a nod, he stood and offered a hand to you. 

You both were already out of the elevator and walking to your room when he slowed, coming to stop just in front of you. 

His room, fucking hell. 

“You know, I was thinking,” he wasn’t looking as he spoke to you, which was odd given how often he stared at you. “If you’re going to be here with me from now on-“

You opened your mouth to argue but he put his hand up, “I’d like to know the things you enjoy doing with your romantic interests.” His smile was almost pure, you could tell he was genuinely asking.

“Well I don’t have any so, why would you care?”

“No things you enjoy?”

“No romantic interests.”

His head lolled to the side, “Sometimes I think you say things just to bother me.”

You did.

“I do.”

You thought if you kept being rude maybe you could keep him at an arm’s length. Not get too attached. You’d been kind to people you didn’t like before and eventually you started to like them. This was that. But opposite.

He stared down at you, taking a step closer. You took one back. That smile shifted from pure to sinister, his eyes half lidded. You could almost see the thoughts playing on his face.

“Alastor-,” your back hit the elevator doors. The pounding of your heart when he brought his face to yours drowned out the sounds of the button being pressed. When the doors opened you fell backward with a yelp, but a strong arm caught you by the waist.

“You have twelve floors.” His hand hit the first floor button, “You can share with me your idea of a quality date. Or I can show everyone,” that clawed hand came to your neck, sliding down the evidence of your pounding heart, “how pretty you scream.”

As soon as the doors closed you were pressed against the elevator wall, right leg pulled up and around his waist. “You wouldn’t dare.” You had meant it to sound strong but instead it was half whispered with a shaky voice.

He popped a button off your blouse, “Maybe!” Warm mouth now on your neck, his tongue ran over your pulse, “I wonder if everyone is still in the lobby.”

Over his shoulder you watched the numbers counting down. The hand that cut off the button slid down to your bottoms, slipping under the waistband.

On the 3rd floor the elevator stopped. When the doors opened a demon you didn’t recognize was standing there, eyes wide and mouth open. He didn’t make a move to enter, Alastor looking over his shoulder and sharing what you could only assume was a death glare. The flickering lights were a giveaway to his anger.

His fingers dipped down and cupped your sex, hot palm pressing into your folds. 

The doors closed again and you watched the second floor light up. A finger bent and pressed into you.

A nibble at your ear, “You know I’ll win, regardless.”

He was right. Which was the smaller defeat? Humiliation or just telling the bastard your idea of a nice time?

“Books. Drinks.” You squeaked, the first floor lamp now aglow. His hand pulled away just as the doors opened. 

Expecting him to gloat you were surprised he just hit the 10th floor button. The library. 

He opened the door for you. The library’s main area had two reading chairs bookending a long antique sofa. You took the chair furthest from the door, hearing the door lock.

With a snap, the entire bar with Husk included seemed to fall three inches out of thin air.

“Oh for fucks sake.” Husk looked around, already annoyed, “You coulda just fucking asked for drinks to bring with you. You know cups are portable, right?”

It was nice, actually. Husk poured, you both read. There was an unnecessary fireplace crackling behind you. Cozy. And it got cozier and warmer the more you drank. Your shields softened as the glasses emptied. 

Your book was good, but as you felt the alcohol hit you were reminded of the last time you’d gotten a little past tipsy. Sneakily, but not at all, your eyes wandered over to Alastor.

His legs were crossed, but you could remember looking down and seeing them spread open beneath you. Open. Did many people see him like you had? Had his talk about a disinterest in sex actually been a trick to intrigue you? It hadn’t worked, you genuinely didn’t care what his preferences were. If anything it made you less likely to make a pass.

Your eyes wandered down his slender neck to his wide shoulders. Less than a week ago your arms were resting there. Further down, you remembered that soft bit of fur at the base of his cock, a small trail from his belly button. 

Husk watched your face turn pink, “You good?” Your head whipped around, looking confused. “You’re getting red.”

Oh. I was just thinking about my pussy drowning in Alastor’s cum.

No, obviously not!

Alastor’s eyes left his book and found yours. They were so red; his eyes, not your cheeks. No one in heaven had such wicked an appearance. When you didn’t reply, busy staring back at Alastor, Husk groaned, “Aah fuck.”

“What are you reading?” You asked, clearly able to see the book title from where you sat. 

Alastor held it up, “Oliver Twist.”

“Never read it.”

You had read it.

Setting your book down, you tried to walk as straight as a line as you could to him. You took the book from his hands and sat down on his lap, back against his chest, before picking it up again. “What page are we on?”

“You can leave, Husker.” Alastor didn’t even look at Husk when he said it, eyes still on your face.

When the door closed and Alastor could lock it with a snap, he uncrossed his legs. “Would you like to start over dear? From the beginning.”

Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Can we?” You leaned your head onto his shoulder. When had he become so comfortable…?

“We can.” The book was set aside, his left hand pulling your chin up, “I think we skipped a few chapters before.”

You opened your mouth, “I don’t like kissing.” 

“You will.” 

The front part of your brain dissolved, you were sure of it. Your decision making abilities were entirely eradicated as his lips pressed into yours. Fuck, maybe even your basic motor skills had been fried, his tongue swiping across your mouth before you just—opened. Your hips ground down into his lap, and you felt his smile widen against your lips.

“Stop smiling. I just like warm bodies.” You reached for the book and opened it to the first page, “and you’re so fucking warm.”

He began to read, but between the rumble of his chest, his voice in your ear, and the heat of his body, you fell asleep.

No matter. Alastor just hummed. With a summoning of his shadow you both sank into your shared bed, where he continued reading with you against his chest.

You dreamt about home. About red eyes and warmth.

Was it so bad, being in hell? Sure you had a fucking deer demon as guard dog but it seemed his mania was … not so terrible. Honestly he seemed relatively normal now. He would wander off for significant lengths of time, even leaving in the mornings while you were still lazing about. A kiss to your hand was the indicator he would be popping off somewhere.

Alastor still wouldn’t let Lucifer alone with you, but otherwise everything was okay. You’d even come to enjoy certain aspects of his possessiveness. That ever present hand, for example. Even when it wasn’t on you, you could still almost feel it. It had become second nature now.

The week was actually peaceful. Your pain was entirely gone, you could move about freely. Despite that Alastor still would press up behind you and offer to help dress you. An offer you declined, but every time he asked you paused longer and longer before saying no.

Alastor was happy to find you in the library toward the end of the week, you having wandered off when he was called away. He summoned a confused but pissed off Husk again, who was midway through making someone else’s drink. He set it aside, pouring Alastor his whiskey. You decided against drinking, you knew you always made poor decisions. Like sleeping. 

Delighted by the impressive collection you found a non-fiction and settled into the same large chair.

“Reading is a virtue.” He said to himself yet out-loud, taking a seat and setting the radio on from across the room. Etta James. ‘Somethings got a hold of me.’

“A little past your time, isn’t it?” You smiled, you liked songs about love. Not because of who you were, you just liked the idea of someone so enamored they have to make art.

He laughed, “Nosey little bird, have you been asking about me?”

Well shit. You had forgotten to play dumb. The past couple weeks you had casually inquired about Alastor from the other staff members. A modest collection of facts to help you better understand the man. A quick recovery. “Know your enemy!” 

He cackled, “Sun Tzu! What does Cupid need ‘The Art of War’ for?!”

What, did he expect you to only read romance novels and Roman mythos? “You can’t make a shadow without light. In fact,” you put the book down, “The Greeks thought Cupid was a child of War and Beauty.”

Okay well, Greek mythos is a little different than their Roman counterpart’s. So. There.

Alastor watched you leaning over the arm of the chair, no sign of pain as you did so. Your injury must have mended well. “Do you have parents?” He asked, genuinely wondering how your kind were created. 

“No, we're just… made. And then sent off on assignments.”

“You must be terribly busy, just one person for all of earth.” If Alastor could pull some limbs and find out more from anyone but you, he would, but unfortunately no one but Vaggie would know anything about you and he had a feeling her time in heaven was never spent thinking about love. 

“Oh, actually not so much! When I’m with humans I can travel around without worrying about the concept of time at all. But it takes a toll.” Or so you were told. There were never two Cupids at one time so you couldn’t really ask your predecessors. Alastor’s brows rose, unsure how exactly a Cupid could be taxed if they didn’t feel pain and couldn’t be hurt. “Every trip to Earth weakens us. Until our bodies just, I guess, give out.” A smile crept across your face, unsure what expression you were supposed to be making.

“Is it just Earth? Or,” he lowered the radio volume with just a glance, “Every time you leave heaven?” It would take a great effort to not notice the weight suddenly blanketing the library. Silence was heavy with what he was really asking you. Would remaining here kill you?

It was a great question. Wow he’s really good at this. It almost seemed like he gave a shit. No one had ever asked you about your creation, about your work. It was nice. Even from him. Maybe especially from him.

You had never been to hell, so you couldn’t be sure, but, “I think it’s a human-world time-thing. But I guess we’ll find out!” Another misplaced smile before you awkwardly leaned back and picked up the book.

While you hadn’t noticed the slip up you had made, Alastor had. “I suppose we will.” 

You would find out, because you wouldn’t be returning to heaven. He was glad you, even if unconsciously, understood that. And perhaps you could live forever if you never returned to earth.

When the song ended, you offered one of your own. 

Alastor was pleasantly surprised to hear you request Nat King Cole’s ‘It’s almost like being in love’.

Standing, he offered you his hand for a dance. “Ugh I hate this cheesy shit.” You said it but stood anyway, putting your hands in his.

Alastor laughed, swaying side to side, “Not a fan of romance? Has Cupid never been in love?”

Those were two seperate things. How could you explain? “Drug dealers number one rule. Never get high off your own supply. That would be—.”

Lonely. Pathetic.

“A bad idea.” His cheek rested on your head. It was a shockingly tender act. “Can you understand? Why would I want something I made. What’s special about that?” 

“And what of true love? It isn’t made by you, yes?” Asked into your hair.

“Yeah but when will I ever find the time to make a connection worthwhile. Winners and Angels are gluttons for choice, I am obviously built for a fun time not a long time.” Which you were…fine with. Yeah. I mean, what choice did you have? “And I don’t want to force it…so…” you trailed off. The rest didn’t matter.

He nodded, suppressing another laugh.  “I see. Well, allow me to give you something you inspired, how about that? Not made. Would you say no, my muse?”

Inspired? Like a song? “Ha, what have I inspired in you, heathen.”

Alastor stopped dancing, his hand pulling your face up for a kiss which took you by surprise.

“Seriousl-,” Husk mercifully disappeared in a flash of neon green.

You couldn’t remember exactly how it happened, much like many of the moments you surrendered to Alastor. It was so fast and he was so strong, his hands large and confident in how they moved you. Before you knew it you were bent over the sofa’s arm getting fucked so hard your leg was shaking and your stomach nauseous.

This was much better than songs or art or whatever you inspired in others. You were gasping with every breath, the action somehow heightening the sensations. The little huffs and groans your body was pulling from him had your heart racing.

His cock was smashing your womb into your guts, the entire organ suddenly feeling like a new pleasure spot. Every jolt to your cervix made a novel kind of bliss pool in your stomach. 

You cried, head empty as he completely left your heat before bottoming out again, “Stop, Alastor. Stop.” A strained moan, hands gripping the wooden sofa arm, “stop, stop, fuuuuck.”

He was pulling out too far and too fast, hitting back too hard and too deep. Your cunt felt swollen around him, your entrance so soft and wet he didn’t need precision to sink back in.

“Does it hurt?” He said quickly on the down beat of his thrust.

“Nngh no.”

“Theeen, no.”

Alastor pulled you up by your chin, back bending as he titled your mouth to his. Despite your mouth hanging open with your tongue out as salacious as you’d ever been,  you told him, “I really don’t kiss during sex.” 

The look in his downcast eyes sent a shiver along your spine, a power there you couldn’t push against, “You do now, my dear.”

When in hell, you supposed. You didn’t even try to argue, accepting his tongue wrapping around yours and exploring your mouth while his dick churned up your insides. Full from top to bottom. Full of Alastor. Safe. Wanted. Needed. 

You pulled away when there was an overwhelming bone-deep sensation spilling through your hips and down your thighs. The muscles felt weak there, and you had an urge to runaway from it but Alastor held you still. 

A scream of ecstasy as both legs shook violently, you finally got your hands free orgasm but to your shock it didn’t stop. As it appeared to wane, it just started mounting again. By the third roll, Alastor came with a push so deep your chest fell over the arm of the sofa. If not for the hands bruising your hips, you would have fallen off entirely.

The ache in your stomach began immediately, you’d have thought someone had been punching you in the gut. Well, more literally than they had been. When you groaned and complained to Alastor about what he had done, he pulled you up by your waist.

You were drawn into him, back to his chest again with your body between those long legs. His hands came to your stomach. Alastor massaged deep circles into your abdomen. 

“Does that help?” His high voice lowered, husky and kind into your ear. You nodded, the pressure relieved the discomfort. 

You wondered if he was used to taller demons than your shorter heavenly form, or perhaps he wasn’t used to anyone at all. Maybe sinners had more room than you did. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. Believe it or not,” probably not, “I’m never trying to hurt you.”

Was it terrible you actually did believe him? Yes he was a serial killer, and considered one of the most cruel overlords in recent memory. But he was always gentle when his hands were on you. Flits of memories of him washing your feet came back to you. 

“I know perhaps,” his hands kept moving, your back already stuck to his with well earned sweat, “I have at times been easily incensed.”

You nodded quickly.

“But, It’s just,” you heard him swallow hard, “ah I absolutely hate this,” He whispered it to himself. “I’m just scared you’ll leave before I’ve managed to convince you how much happier I can make you here.”

It’s not that it was funny, necessarily, but the very idea hell could be happier than Heaven was laughable. It was Heaven. It was made to be happy.  It existed purely to please. 

The smile faded from your face. Well, for the winners. It was made to please the winners. It wasn’t made for you, but you still got much enjoyment. You had…sex. Great sex. Not held aloft in a radio tower great, but…You always came. Everyone did. Wasn’t that the point of it?

Wasn’t that the point?

What was the point?

 A warm and lonely bed is better than an empty one alone. So.

Well, your bed was always warm and never lonely in hell now that you’d been “moved”.

You had… Hobbies. You liked swimming. 

Okay well the hotel had a pool. And yes, if you weren’t running off to earth on command you’d have more energy for hobbies.

What were you thinking about this for again?

You gathered the scraps of your relevant thoughts, “Happiness isn’t being confined to a hotel, Alastor.”

“As soon as you show me you won’t leave me, I won’t care where you go. As long as you’re safe.” One of his hands left your stomach to stroke your cheek, “I’m just waiting for you to realize what I already know.”

If Alastor were to ease his grip on you, could you enjoy yourself? Well, more than you did. But it was more than that, you had to admit you hated the idea of losing, of just running away. “I don’t like giving up.” 

His laugh was quiet but it rocked you as his chest moved. “Darling they threw you to hell and told you you’re not allowed to leave unless you do homework. Giving up what? Being a servant to heaven?”

If he had said it a couple weeks prior, you would have left the room indignant. But now, settled against his hot skin and being so softly touched, it sounded like tough love.

“I don’t belong here though.” You were talking to yourself. So many excuses.

His arms wrapped around your chest to hug you into him, “You belong wherever I am.” His cheek pressed against yours, “I won’t let you go.”

A threat. A threat you leaned into and warmed yourself with. A threat a quiet part of you hoped he kept his word on.

You were getting too comfortable. Every morning you woke up to Alastor curled into your body, holding you tightly to him and you found yourself smiling before your consciousness clicked on. At some point in the last week he grabbed your chin and kissed you good night and suddenly every time he left your side you allowed a kiss to your cheek before he parted. What was worse was how you’d talk in bed about your recent reads and what happened the few hours you weren’t with each other. 

The thing that made you realize you were getting honestly too deep was when you went to go to bed early and actually took the elevator past your floor, walked all the way to his station and told him good night. You’d made it to his chair and were leaning down for your kiss when your face fell flat. 

He asked what was wrong but you shook your head. A poorly faked smile offered to him.

You sat in your bed. His bed. Your bed?

You sat in bed and wondered how to press forward. Two months, nearly, you’d been in hell. At this rate surely heaven had made a replacement. If you could make it back quickly you could still keep your place.

A decision was made, you’d never confronted Alastor head on. You had misunderstood his illusion of you. But maybe if you just forced it into his thick skull he’d been controlled and puppeted by an arrow, not his free will, he would abandon it to save his pride. 

Knees to your chest, why were you crying again? Did you want to go home?

No, you wanted to curl into his stupid fucking lap and listen to him hum his stupid old, forgotten songs. You wanted to dance while Husk groaned and rolled his eyes. You wanted to feel loved.

But you weren’t made to want things. And Alastor didn’t love you.

Okay, one more night to enjoy yourself before you pissed him off so much he kicked you out of his bed. Or took such a turn into obsession he never let you leave the room again, allowing you to shirk responsibility for not returning to heaven.

When you turned the handle there was resistance, the door pushing in. 

“Alastor? Done already?” He’d seemed busy earlier.

He closed the door and locked it. Oh. A blush. The sound of a locking door had come to mean certain things to you.

“You seemed bothered.” His thumb wiped where your tears had already dried, “What ever is the problem? Did someone upset you? Some neck I should wring?” You shook your head no. His other hand came to join in  holding your face, those goddamned red eyes melting you to nothing, “Some limbs I should snap?” He took a step toward you and you took two back, hands holding his wrists. Another no. “Or some cheeks I should kiss?”

Stop crying.

An eager nod. “Don’t cry, my love.” Soft lips catching your tears, thin fingers wiping them away. He kept walking forward and you kept walking back until your legs hit the bed. 

One more night, just in case. In case he forfeits the mania.

You kissed his neck, startling him. “Rare form. Did you need some more intimate attention, darling?” You tried to avoid initiating, never knowing what he wanted or when, never wanting to enjoy his touch too much. “I could indulge you.”

What you wanted was to be reduced so thoroughly to just a physical creature by way of pleasure that your mind disconnected from your brain. Fucked dumb, as people said. Alastor wouldn’t know what that meant but you were confident he’d enjoy sussing out the finer details of the meaning if it meant your full surrender.

You bit down on his neck, getting you pushed onto the bed in return. “I need overindulgence. I don’t wanna feel anything tonight but you.” You should practice your manners, for heaven's sake. “Please.”

There it was again. That look that turned your bones to jelly and your brain to cotton; that downcast half lidded stare as he towered over you that promised to devour you whole. His hand pulled at his bow tie and loosened his collar, knees on the bed as his legs spread you open at the thighs.

 “Good girl.”

No punishment or inspiration, just that mental numbness that turned off all your worries. We’re you making stupid faces? We’re your sounds embarrassing? Didn’t matter. You didn’t care. You clung to his body like you’d fall apart without his skin on yours. Because you would, in some fashion. 

Every gap between your bodies felt like room for doubt. So you filled them with flesh and sighs and moans. 

With his height difference you were smothered by him when in traditional heaven-approved missionary, but you liked lying on top. Your head only made it to his chest when your hips were positioned above his cock. You could go slack and let him move you on and off himself. You had been lying when you said you preferred to not move or make noise, but you’d learned he got harder and more feral when you let him manipulate your body any way he pleased. 

He smelled like sweat and leather, probably from the chairs in the lobby. No one sweats in heaven, this seemed like a mistake now. You’d have to be sure to not wash your clothes after you left hell, or else you’d forget his scent.

After finishing, he was surprised to find you still clinging to his torso, arms under his armpits and hooked onto his shoulders. He offered to pull out and let you lie down but you just held on tighter in response. He glanced around the room, soft light and softer music on the radio. Your quiver and bow rested against the armoire, practically dusty. He asked if you were alright, a hand coming to your back with large claws gently scratching.

“Yeah I will be.” you lifted your head, waiting.

Both of his eyebrows rose, unsure what you were waiting on.

Complete surrender. “Good night kiss.” You had to stretch to meet his lips before settling back into his chest, “okay bore me to sleep with your day, sinner.” He gladly did, you falling asleep yet again to the sound of his slow heartbeat and the rumble of his words.

You awoke nauseous, already knowing your day was going to fucking suck and it’d be your own fault. The idea of approaching Alastor and initiating the conversation felt impossible, your feet became stone when you thought of it.

The coward’s option. Wait for time alone and then pace the library until he came to find you.

After an hour or so he did, smile brightening as he entered. “Should I summon the bar?”

You shook your head no, struggling to speak. He sat in his chair, book still on the small side table.

Heart pounding, you considered doing this another day or week or maybe year but knew you’d already lost so much time. “Alastor, I need to talk to you about my task.”

He snapped the book shut, eyes not leaving his hands. “Oh?”

“I need to leave the hotel or at least need serious time alone with someone. I need to change someone’s heart on true love. I can’t go home—,” you were cut off, Alastor standing quickly.

“Home?”

“Alastor.” You stood your ground even as his spine stretched and antlers widened.

“Your home is wherever I am.” A pained smile now, something akin to hurt in his eyes that did damage to you too. “Ah. So last night— and people say I’m cruel.”

“I’m not supposed to be here!”

A snap, his anger and desperation eclipsing his pain, “Why don’t you ever listen-,”

Your turn to cut him off, “Because you’re under a spell! You act so fucking tough like you’re in control all the time. But you’re not! It’s just the effect of the arrow.”

He laughed, but you kept going, “Don’t act like you’re sooo strong you can fight the effects of my shot. You don’t fucking love me. Not really, not naturally. It was an accident. You’re just— it’s been made by me. I don’t want it. I want something real and true.”

“My feelings are true, just let me speak. I can make you understand if you’d just listen to me.” Pupils like pins, teeth somehow sharper.

“Alastor you can’t have true love. Nothing triggered by my arrows can ever be true.”

Another ring of laughter, “Tell me then how your true love is different than mine, Oh Wise Cupid.”

You huffed, “Don’t talk down to me, radio demon. True love means caring deeply for someone else that occupies your heart and mind-,” he opened his mouth, looking around the room for where you found the audacity but you snapped twice to get his attention back, “not just that! You put them first without fear because if they truly love you they would never take advantage of that. It’s trusting them with the most fragile parts of yourself. It's a best friend. Someone who makes you feel like a better version of you, makes you want to always be improving yourself.”

Alastor was still smug, staring at you from his unnervingly demonic height, “Lovely! Last question, expert, is true love ever one sided?”

You thought for a beat, “It can be.”

He hummed, body swiftly resuming his smaller but, again, still too tall scale, antlers remaining fierce as his sinister smile dropped to just a small upward turn of his lips. “I see. You’ve truly enlightened me. I believe you.” The sarcasm wasn’t lost on you.

You rolled your eyes and licked your lips to go off when a portal opened beside you.

Heaven was just beyond the shining circle.

You looked from Alastor to the circular doorway, taking small steps towards it. Your hand pressed through, confusion wiping your own smugness off your face.

Alastor began a mocking slow clap. “I’ve been convinced. Happy now? Task complete.”

“But- the love Mania causes…It clouds the mind, you can’t even process the idea of true love properly.” You searched the floor for some clarity.

His hands stopped, eyebrows meeting his bangs as a laugh that started typically but quickly morphed into maniacal filled the room. You just kept pushing your hand in and out of the portal. Alastor finally quieted, antlers fully drawn back into little prongs. He stared at you. A shiver as his smile reached his ears. That look again. You took a deep breath, ready to be eaten.

“Your little arrow didn’t pierce me, you glorious fool. It literally fell into my pocket. I was never under the effects of your magic. I said that many times.” He straightened out his suit jacket,  “Very plainly, might I add. You just never listened to me. So sure you knew better than I did.”

You sputtered, too many thoughts trying to express themselves, “Why did you act like that then?!”

“Because I wanted you. Something something first sight, as I recall the adage goes.” He crossed his arms and looked at his claws, “Perhaps my love happens to be manic by default. I am a murderous overlord, darling.”

All the energy left your body, shoulders relaxing. “Oh.” 

“So, here I am,” he opened his arms, “trusting you to not hurt me any further today. Does that fall into your narrow view of true love?”

A good question. You shifted your weight onto your other foot, looking back at heaven. You could see the shining gates.

He sighed and brought his arms down, “I can’t promise how long I’ll let you stand there and look at anything other than me.”

A warning.

A deep breath, another shift onto your other foot again as you shook the anxiety out of your hands before finally making eye contact with him, “Well, eldritch horror, prove it.”

You heard the door lock from across the room. 

You decided heaven could wait. It took about two days before they seemed to notice you hadn’t entered the portal, which closed on its own some time between Alastor pushing you onto the floor and you begging him for more. Luckily St. Peter wasn’t privy to your escapades.

It was a fact Sera was aware you had completed your task, because a knock came to the library door on that second day after you did so. Entering without waiting for a reply, which was brave, Lucifer and his hat popped into the room.

“Heeeey giiiirl. I got a message from heaven asking what’s the hold up, worried you were incapacitated.”

From your seat in Alastor’s lap you lowered your book, “How nice of them to suddenly care about my well-being.” You brought the book back up, “Little late.”

He nodded, “Uh huh, uh huh. Yeah I can understand that. Sooo,” his fingers tapped the door, “What should I reply with?”

Alastor turned the page and hummed a reply, “Finders Keepers.”

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove  @saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

@faeoffaith , sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re

@asianfrustration13 @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp

@sugurubabe , @zzzykiek , @phamtasic