#and have a long list of ideas for edits

[landonkirbyappreciation]

I just wanna make a bunch of Landon gifsets but have been so busy and stressed for months, I just want a break so I can get back to giffing more like I used to.

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: this got long sorry 😔 but creepy/perv bakugou, recording, film major bkg x art major reader, masturbation, coercion, dubcon before it just becomes con, voyeurism/exhibitionism

as an art major, you typically did some works for a few students on campus; for their plays, as background pieces while they danced, a cover for their released songs. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to ask you to create something for them, and you enjoyed it more often than not. but, you weren’t usually the art itself.

Bakugou is a friend’s friend that you’ve seen a few times, ran into at the library or at coffee shops. he’s a film major, and always looks so unhappy about the whole thing, as if he didn’t choose it himself. you joke to Mina that you think he’ll graduate and become one of those directors that hate everything and yell at the actors constantly and later on get sued for being a dickhead. you never say it to him though—you’ve never spoken more than a couple words to the man.

it’s why it shocks you when he approaches you one day. it’s after one of your painting classes, and he stands outside the door with a frown and his hands shoved in his pockets, his eyebrows scrunched as if pissed at the mere sight of you. he asks you, in that low and gruff tone of his, if you could star in his final project for the semester. says it’s supposed to be a film made with this criteria and that, but, you’ve kind of checked out on the conversation after the first sentence.

“You mean, you want me to create something and that be the star of your film?” you ask him, feeling so intimidated at his stature. he always seems to loom, his hair shadowing the lights above, creates a cast over a portion of his face, makes his eyes look…unsettling. like they’re looking straight through your flesh, can find the marrow in your bones. he scoffs like you’ve offended him, rolling his eyes into his skull, mouth pulled tight.

“No.” his voice is firm, gaze concentrated only on you, like the halls are empty and you’re the focus of his lens. “I want you to star in it.”

his words confuse you—you’ve never presented yourself as an actor before, never alluded to wanting to be in the spotlight if not for what you create with your hands. but he shuffles on his feet, looks desperate even. there’s some hemming and hawing for a minute or so—why not choose Mina?—she’s busy—why choose me?—‘cause you’d be perfect for my short film—what’s it about?—you’ll find out once you get the script.

and even after you hesitantly agree and get the script—you still don’t understand what you’re doing. why you’re here, why you’re the only person, why it has to be a solo film, why there’s damn near zero lines in the entirety of the have-to-be forty five minute film.

the scenes are all so long, and maybe it’s because movies aren’t your forte or chosen major, but you just don’t get it. one scene; you’re staring at yourself in the mirror while Bakugou holds a small, black camera over your shoulder. he’s eerily quiet behind you, whispers out a faint fuckin’ go when you have to wash your face in the sink, makes you do it over because your movements are too jerky and unnatural.

the rest of the scenes go that way; you doing regular at home activities, being put under a lens, quietly barked at to do this and move that way and fix your hair and remember to frown.

“Isn’t there another way to film this?” you ask him on the fifth day of shooting in his spacious loft. there’s a bubble bath scene coming up, one you dont understand the importance of, but Bakugou tells you it’s the most necessary part of the entire thing.

“No,” he grunts out, looking at you from under his lashes as he sits on the lid of the toilet. “But I’ll make it soapy, so the camera won’t see much.” the camera? much? you weren’t worried so much about what the camera captured as you were the man behind it. he looks at you with such intensity, you feel naked already despite the robe you wear that’s suspiciously already your size.

he leaves the bathroom when you sink in the hot water, returns before you can say it’s okay, hears the water splashing and thinks that’s good enough. he kneels on the floor beside you, camera pointed directly in your face, makes your chest hot and your skin feel prickly. the scene passes on regularly enough; you run the water over your arms, tilt your head back as you sigh, whisper the few lines scripted, lean back and close your eyes, sigh again. it’s almost relaxing, makes you forget about the friend of a friend recording you naked right now. almost.

“Touch yourself.” Bakugou suddenly demands, hushed and quiet behind the camera. your eyes immediately shoot open, looking to him in question, how he’s eerily still in his spot hovering over you.

“Huh?” you ask, unsure if you heard him correctly, looking around the rounded lens in your face, trying to ignore the red blinking light. but Bakugou only frowns.

“It’s a masturbation scene. Touch yourself.” he repeats, voice louder, more demanding this time. your stomach twists at the thought of doing something so intimate in front of him. he’s a handsome guy, for sure, even made you consider asking him out after this, figured he was just serious about his work and awkward about certain things. but…something had been off about this entire thing since the start.

“But—but I don’t, I’m not,” you stutter, sitting up a little, the bubbles covering your chest starting to disperse with your movements. but Bakugou only sits a little higher on his knees, finally pulling the camera away from his face for the first time since he’s asked you to do this for him.

“You want me to fail?” he asks, booming voice eerily quiet in the silent bathroom, carmine eyes dull, shaded over with something terrible. “Then do it.” he tells you when you shake your head quickly.

you stare at him until he gets back into position again, camera back pointed at you. when he doesn’t say anything else, you swallow thickly, wondering if the art that will come out of this will be worth it. so you listen, sneak a hand under the water, start touching yourself in a way you never have in front of anyone.

is it bad to say that it’s exhilarating? being watched and recorded by someone who breathes so heavily every time your voice hiccups? being directed to touch your chest next when the suds start to disappear and your nipples start to peek through? is it bad that you want him to send you this portion of his film, only, just so you can watch yourself again and again? make a portrait of yourself with your fingers on your nipples and your knees raising from the water and your head thrown back from the intensity in oil pastels?

“That’s a wrap.” Bakugou announces when you finish, head spinning and still panting. you look over to him, how he closes the camera, the obvious bulge in his pants. “I’ll get you a towel.”

you wonder when’s the next time he’ll need you. or better yet—maybe he could be the star in your final drawing project? you had finished it already but, what was the harm in starting over with him as your muse? as naked as you are? camera not blocking his face so you can paint the similarities of his blushing cheeks and eyes when you direct him to look at you? to touch his chest? to play with himself just like that?

[hauntedorpheum]

first time people tell a content creator GIVE US MORE ADS

[legolasghosty]

“Nope, puppy dog eyes aren’t going to work this time.” and “Believe me, I will never be tired of you.” for boggie!!

Hehehehe yes let's do it!

Bobby took one look at the giant rollercoaster and shook his head. "Absolutely not," he told his boyfriend.

"But the bucket list," Reggie protested, swinging their joined hands between them. "This is the only one here where it takes photos of you on it."

"Babe, I love you, but I'm not getting on that death trap," Bobby insisted. "We can do a selfie on one of the smaller ones or something."

"That's not the same thing," Reggie pouted. He stepped in front of Bobby and grabbed his other hand so Bobby had to look right at him. "Please? For me?" Reggie asked, his eyes going wide and pleading.

Bobby shut his own eyes quickly, "Nope, no way, the puppy eyes aren't going to work this time," he tried. He made no attempt to pull away from Reggie either though.

He felt one of Reggie's hands move up to cup his jaw. Bobby leaned into the warm, gentle touch. When Reggie spoke, his voice was softer and closer.

"Please, baby? It's for the wedding slideshow."

Curse this beautiful man and his tricks. Curse the warm silver ring on Reggie's left hand brushing against his cheek. Curse Bobby himself for falling in love with him.

"Only if we get slushies after," Bobby mumbled.

Reggie squealed happily and Bobby cracked his eyes open just enough to grab him by the waist and pull him into a kiss. Reggie giggled against his mouth and wrapped his arms around his neck, kissing him back eagerly. Bobby reveled in the vanilla on Reggie's breath from his insanely sweet coffee and the easy weight of his arms on his shoulders. He pulled him closer so their chests were pressed together, taking advantage of the couple of inches he had on Reggie to get a better angle.

After a minute, Reggie leaned back just enough to part their mouths. "You know you still have to go on the roller coaster with me, right?" he chuckled.

Bobby groaned. "If I'm gonna die, I'd like to at least kiss my fiance first."

Reggie blushed at the term and Bobby smirked. Two could play that game.

He leaned in to leave one last peck on Reggie's lips, then sighed. "Let's get this over with."

"It'll be fine," Reggie assured him, leading him by the hand toward the line. "It's both safe and in the name of our teenage selves who never went on proper dates."

"Why must I suffer because neither of our parents bothered to teach us how to drive?" Bobby complained. He wasn't too upset about it though, and Reggie knew it.

"Well we need something to point at to remind our kids that we used to be fun ten years from now," Reggie teased.

"Excuse me, I will still be so much fun in ten years," Bobby retorted. "Our kids will never question if I'm cool."

"Well I need some proof that I used to be fun then," Reggie laughed.

"Beyond being a rockstar?" Bobby questioned as the bored attendant pointed them toward a car.

"Hmmm, good point," Reggie mused. Then he pulled Bobby into the little cart and pecked him on the mouth. "Doesn't matter, we have a bunch of cute dates to catch up on before we get married."

"If we die on this thing, I'm telling God or whoever that it was your idea," Bobby said.

"Deal," Reggie answered. He grabbed Bobby's hand as the safety bar lowered over their laps.

---

Bobby stumbled a bit as he exited the platform, Reggie bouncing ahead to get the pictures. He was never doing that again. He was 97% sure he'd left his stomach somewhere around the first drop, and the ability to breathe on the third.

"Check these out," Reggie exclaimed, popping up beside him with some photos in hand.

Bobby glanced at the first one and winced. It was a bit blurry and neither of them was wearing an expression that looked entirely human. "These look awful, you realize that, right?" he checked.

"Yup," Reggie agreed, wrapping his free arm around Bobby's waist. "That's the point, right? To do all the stupid, ugly, insane teenager boyfriend things we never got to do?"

"Guess so," Bobby agreed with a smile.

His stomach hadn't returned yet, but the cavity it usually inhabited was filling with butterflies anyway. He brushed his fingertips along Reggie's jaw as they kissed softly.

"Let's maybe do a less terrifying one next week though," Bobby chuckled when they separated.

"Sounds good to me," Reggie responded. "We have all the time in the world to do stupid teenager stuff."

"Wow, you say that like we're gonna be together for a really long time," Bobby mused with a smirk. "You sure you aren't going to get tired of me a few years down the road?"

"Believe me, I will never be tired of you," Reggie murmured, leaning in to connect their mouths again.

After they got their slushies, they headed home. Kissing was a lot more comfortable in their living room than in the middle of a random amusement park walkway.

(Prompts from this list!)

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

What fanfic do you wish you got more response on?

Hmm, there's a few one-shots I'm surprised didn't receive more reception than I expected but I'm not too bothered by it.

I would name Heard No More as one I'd love to receive more response on but in my experience, 1-5k one-shots tend to gain a lot of traction on tumblr over multi-chapter/10k+ fics.

Like I was happily surprised at the response Gibbous got on AO3 when I posted the most recent chapter, but then like. It's tumblr version only received like 5 notes. Part of that is because I didn't reblog it as much/add it to my pinned fic list, but even so.

My plans, however, with Heard No More is to finish the overall AU (By The Pricking of My Thumbs), edit it and then release it onto AO3 serially

[apricotheart]

FORBES 30 UNDER 30 : ASIA ↪ feat. @shacchou and @aoiinome

MAZAKI ANZU  /  category, the arts         principal dancer with american ballet theatre

KAIBA SETO  /  category, consumer technology         CEO of kaiba corporation

IMAMURA KISARA  /  category, enterprise technology         CEO of aoi group

[radioactive-earthshine]

Writing tips for long fics that helped me that no one asked for.

1.) Don't actually delete content from your WIP unless it is minor editing - instead cut it and put it in a secondary document. If you're omitting paragraphs of content, dialog, a whole scene you might find a better place for it later and having it readily available can really save time. Sometimes your idea was fantastic, but it just wasn't in the right spot.

2.) Stuck with wording the action? Just write the dialog then revisit it later.

3.) Stuck on the whole scene? Skip it and write the next one.

4.) Write on literally any other color than a white background. It just works. (I use black)

5.) If you have a beta, while they are beta-ing have them read your fic out loud. Yes, I know a lot of betas/writers do not have the luxury of face-timing or have the opportunity to do this due to time constraints etc but reading your fic out loud can catch some very awkward phrasing that otherwise might be missed. If you don't have a beta, you read it out loud to yourself. Throw some passion into your dialog, you might find a better way to word it if it sounds stuffy or weird.

6.) The moment you have an idea, write it down. If you don't have paper or a pen, EMAIL it to yourself or put it in a draft etc etc. I have sent myself dozens of ideas while laying down before sleep that I 10/10 forgot the next morning but had emailed them to myself and got to implement them.

7.) Remember - hits/likes/kudos/comments are not reflective of the quality of your fic or your ability to write. Most people just don't comment - even if they say they do, they don't, even if they preach all day about commenting, they don't, even if they are a very popular blog that passionately reminds people to comment - they don't comment (I know this personally). Even if your fic brought tears to their eyes and it haunted them for weeks and they printed it out and sent it to their friends they just don't comment. You just have to accept it. That being said - comment on the fic you're reading now, just do it, if you're 'shy' and that's why you don't comment the more you comment the better you'll get at it. Just do it.

8.) Remove unrealistic daily word count goals from your routine. I've seen people stress 1500 - 2000 words a day and if they don't reach that they feel like a failure and they get discouraged. This is ridiculous. Write when you can, but remove absurd goals. My average is 500 words a day in combination with a 40 hour a week job and I have written over 200k words from 2022-2023.

9.) There are dozens of ways to do an outline from precise analytical deconstruction that goes scene by scene to the minimalist bullet point list - it doesn't matter which one you use just have some sort of direction. A partial outline is better than no outline.

10.) Write for yourself, not for others. Write the fic you know no one is going to read. Write the fic that sounds ridiculous. You will be so happy you put it out in the world and there will be people who will be glad it exists.

[thistlecrimes]

Things I've learned from getting covid for the first time in 2023

I wear an N95 in public spaces and I've managed to dodge it for a long time, but I finally got covid for the first time (to my knowledge) in mid-late November 2023. It was a weird experience especially because I feel like it used to be something everyone was talking about and sharing info on, so getting it for the first time now (when people generally seem averse to talking about covid) I found I needed to seek out a lot of info because I wasn't sure what to do. I put so much effort into prevention, I knew less about what to do when you have it. I'm experiencing a rebound right now so I'm currently isolating. So, I'm making a post in the hopes that if you get covid (it's pretty goddamn hard to avoid right now) this info will be helpful for you. It's a couple things I already knew and several things I learned. One part of it is based on my experience in Minnesota but some other states may have similar programs.

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The World Health Organization states you should isolate for 10 days from first having symptoms plus 3 days after the end of symptoms.

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At the time of my writing this post, in Minnesota, we have a test to treat program where you can call, report the result of your rapid test (no photo necessary) and be prescribed paxlovid over the phone to pick up from your pharmacy or have delivered to you. It is free and you do not need to have insurance. I found it by googling "Minnesota Test to Treat Covid"

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Paxlovid decreases the risk of hospitalization and death, but it's also been shown to decrease the risk of Long Covid. Long Covid can occur even from mild or asymptomatic infections.

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Covid rebound commonly occurs 2-8 days after apparent recovery. While many people associate Paxlovid with covid rebound, researchers say there is no strong evidence that Paxlovid causes covid rebound, and rebounds occur in infections that were not treated with Paxlovid as well. I knew rebounds could happen but did not know it could take 8 days. I had mine on day 7 and was completely surprised by it.

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If you start experiencing new symptoms or test positive again, the CDC states that you should start your isolation period again at day zero. Covid rebound is still contagious. Personally I'd suggest wearing a high quality respirator around folks for an additional 8-9 days after you start to test negative in case of a rebound.

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Positive results on a rapid test can be very faint, but even a very faint line is positive result. Make sure to look at your rapid test result under strong lighting. Also, false negatives are not uncommon. If you have symptoms but test negative taking multiple tests and trying different brands if you have them are not bad ideas. My ihealth tests picked up my covid, my binax now tests did not.

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EDIT: I'd highly suggest spending time with friends online if you can, I previously had a link to the NAMI warmline directory in this post but I've since been informed that NAMI is very much funded by pharmaceutical companies and lobbies for policies that take autonomy away from disabled folks, so I've taken that off of here! Sorry, I had no idea, the People's CDC listed them as a resource so I just assumed they were legit! Feel free to reply/reblog this with other warmlines/support resources if you know of them! And please reblog this version!

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I know that there is so much we can't control as individuals right now, and that's frightening. All we can do is try our best to reduce harm and to care for each other. I hope this info will be able to help folks.

[smoft-demons]

MC needs some extra love

_______

You’re having an off day. Your demons have asked to make sure nothing’s actually wrong, just to be safe, but they’ve seen you like this a few times before. They understand. You’re just feeling down for no particular reason. Just sad and low energy. Extra tired.

Nothing happened, no one hurt you, nothing’s wrong… you just woke up in a low mood. Because it simply be like that sometimes. You just… need some extra affection today. No reason. It’s okay, they’re not judging. They’ll do what they can to cheer you up a little—they love you, you know. They want to see you smile at least once today.

_______

Lucifer:

When Lucifer notices your mood, he softens towards you a lot. He asks if anything is wrong first of course—they all do—but once he learns that there’s nothing he needs to correct and no one he needs to punish on your behalf, he just softens. He treats you more gently than usual.

He expects you’ll get fed up entertaining all his brothers, with their endless chaotic energy. So he invites you to hide out with him in his office. You are invited to just sit with him and read, or put on some music, or play a game on your DDD, or just rest… or whatever it is that will help.

He’ll even let you curl up in his lap and cuddle with him if that’s what you want. That cheers him up too.

He quietly redistributes the most taxing of your chores for today amongst the seven of them, to give you time to recharge.

You’ll find Levi and Beel doing the dishes for you when it’s your turn, or if you’re supposed to make dinner you’ll find that Mammon and Asmo have already ordered everyone takeout, and they’re already in the middle of setting it all out on the table. You won’t have to do a thing! If you were supposed to clean up a common space in the house, it’ll already be done by some of your assorted pact partners. You might even find sticky notes placed amongst your homework in Lucifer’s, Satan’s, and Belphie’s handwriting, suggesting edits and books titles to check for better information, and pointing out any parts in your work that are particularly well done.

When you check your DDD later, you see that Lucifer had instructed his brothers to take on what they can from you to make your life easier today. He was not planning on letting you know that, clearly—because he sent that in the brothers group chat. You only know because Karasu’s spy feature showed you.

His support is shown in all these soft, quiet details. Peaceful moments. Simple, but unmistakable reminders of how loved you are. It’s okay if you don’t smile today, even though he would like you too. He will verbally remind you that loves you anyway.

_______

Mammon:

Mammon’s first instinct, of course, is retail therapy. He offers to take you shopping. He’ll even pay for your stuff! He doesn’t mind if it makes you happy!

You appreciate that very much—and maybe you’d be happy to take him up on that if you were sad for a reason, but… you just have no spare energy. Just thinking about going out exhausts you more. You’d have to deal with looking at things! And forming opinions, and deciding on stuff to buy! There’s crowds and cashiers and bright lights and just… stuff outside! You can’t, you just can’t. You have no energy and you can’t.

The first time Mammon sees you like this, he’s confused. You don’t wanna go out? You don’t want any new stuff?? He sure hasn’t felt like that before!

He puts effort into figuring out what will actually help cheer you up instead. He’s considerate that way.

He tries taking you for a long drive. He tries taking tasks off your to-do list. He tries trailing after you all day to keep you company, holding your hand, chattering all day so you can’t hear your thoughts, staying quiet so you don’t get overstimulated. He cycles through every possible approach over the months, on every random day you happen to wake up like this.

It’s all greatly appreciated—and hey, some of his ideas work better than the rest! You feel loved and cared for regardless. It’s impossible to miss how much he adores you.

Eventually though, he strikes gold!

That particular day, he had been telling you a stupid joke every time he ran into you, in an attempt to make you smile. He gets a weak grin for his troubles just about halfway through the day. He beams at you triumphantly at that, impulsively scooping you up for a hug and repeatedly kissing the top of your head, and—aha! THERE’S the smile he was looking for!

From that point on, he knows what to do!

The next time you wake up in this mood, he takes the first opportunity to give you a playfully over the top show of affection. Over the course of the day, he keeps doing it!

He runs into you in the hallway between classes, he (gently) aggressively ruffles your hair as he passes you. He finds you aimlessly walking through the house, you immediately get snatched into his arms for a nice long squeeze. You sit with him as he’s scrolling through devilgram, he sets it aside for a moment to squish your cheeks between his hands and cover your forehead and nose with loud, playful kisses. You go up to him and request attention? You get kiss attacked, and he won’t let up until you crack a smile!

Your brain hurts, he says, echoing your very first explanation. It’s okay though, he says. He’ll kiss it better, he says.

He is MORE than happy to completely discard the tsundere façade to lean into this… over-the-top affectionate silliness, as long as it continues to make you laugh and smile like that.

He won’t admit it, but… this is more honest. This is much closer to who he is at heart than his usual behaviour is. Try as he might, he can’t hide how much he cares to save his life.

The realest aspect of Mammon is not the dumbass, not the money-grubber, not the uncaring cool guy that he pretends to be… no, it’s the goofy dork who loves you SO much that he’d go to any amount of effort to cheer you up.

He’s damn good at it too! HE was put in charge of your well-being for a reason! He’s the best big brother/guardian/friend/pact partner ever, and you’re his to take care of. He’s not letting HIS human go without smiling once for a whole day! You’re the sole member of his family he can openly dote on, and dammit, he will!

_______

Levi:

Levi’s go-to is, of course, distracting you with media. He tries games first, but if you’re too low-energy for that, he gets it. He tries anime, movies, shows, videos, manga, whatever you seem to respond best to.

You’ll notice a theme of letting others help, confiding in friends, opening up to people. There are repeated instances of characters asking for support from the rest of the cast and then being helped and taken care of. Lots of power of friendship stories, lots of hurt/comfort and “it’s rotten work” “not to me, not if it’s you” and team-as-family.

Maybe, just maaaybe, he’s trying to tell you something!

He relaxes when you explain that you just woke up like this, sometimes this just happens and it’s no one’s fault, there’s no problem, he doesn’t have to worry about you. He gets that! Sometimes he wakes up like that too. It does happen!

But… you’re his player two! He wants to worry about you!

So he takes care of you the way he wishes someone would take care of him when he gets like that. Gives you the extra love he knows first-hand that you need right now. He lets you choose the entertainment, he holds your hand, and mirrors what you do to self-soothe.

If you wanna lie on the floor and stare at his jellyfish decorations, he’s right next to you. If you wanna tell Henry how you’re feeling, he’s right there with you doing the same so you don’t have to feel self-conscious. If you’re stimming, he will too. That one makes him happy as well! If you wanna burrow into a pile of blankets and plushies like a hognose snake, he totally gets it and will also do that. He does that anyway sometimes, just because it’s comfy.

There’s not a hint of judgement from Levi. Ever. He gets it.

When you guys HAVE to leave his room, like for meals and such, he lends you his headphones. So you don’t get overstimulated from all the noise his brothers make. He never goes far from you, either. He always stays close enough that you can reach for him if you want to.

After dinner, when you’re tired and done with trying to act normal (not that even one of your demons is fooled), Levi brings you back to his room. He asks if you have any requests, anything you want to do, anything he can do to help you. If you know what you need, he’ll just do it. If you don’t, he’ll offer comfort in some form that makes sense to him. He understands that all you really need is some extra love when you’re like this, so he’s not at a loss. He gets it, he feels the same way sometimes, he can do that!

You end up curled up in his lap, hiding your face in his shoulder as he watches an anime you’ve both seen before at a low volume. Familiar and comforting. He’s happy to just sit and chill with you until you feel like you’ve recharged enough. He knows you’d do the same for him.

_______

Satan:

Satan’s instinct, once he learns what’s going on, is to bring you to the quiet spot outside where the stray cats he has befriended gather and then plonk the chillest one in your lap.

Cats are perfect fluffy little warm purring bundles of free therapy, after all. How could you not be recharged by this?

He’s not wrong, the cat definitely helps. It is in fact a perfect creature.

But… well, you don’t bother to spend the energy on saying so, but being outside isn’t really helping. You cringe at every loud noise. The wind ruffling your clothes every so often is annoying you. You’re sitting on concrete and it’s making you cold. The streetlights feel particularly aggressive to your eyes today. Very stabby. There are smells outside! No one wants that!

You love the cats, but Satan is giving them all his attention and you’re getting just a little bit jealous. You as well are giving the cat in your lap all your attention, and—as stupid as you feel about it—you’re getting a little bit jealous about that too. You want attention too! All the cat has to do is be cute and soft and it can have all the petting and cuddling it wants! As it deserves, yes, but… don’t you as well, though..?

You try to push that feeling away and just pet the cat. The cat did nothing wrong, you still love it, you’re supposed to be feeling MORE recharged from this! Not… whatever it is you do feel. At the end of the day you still enjoy petting the cat and you don’t want it to leave. That’s still true and that’s what matters, you tell yourself.

Eventually the cat decides it’s had enough petting for now, and gets up. Satan checks on you, fully expecting you to be thoroughly cheered up! Instead he sees you staring forlornly at your hands, mostly zoned out. Confused, he asks if you’re okay.

You nod once, giving him a hollow smile.

Now he’s concerned. He takes a minute to finish petting the cats surrounding him—noting the hint of jealousy in your eyes as you observe him—then comes to sit on the concrete stair next to you.

He gently points out that he knows you well enough to detect a lie. Especially an unconvincing lie like that. You give a noncommittal hum in reply. That’s all you have the energy for.

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, letting you slump against his side. Your head leans against his shoulder. His other arm comes up to stroke your head for a moment, then drops down again to take your hand.

In a small, tired voice, you thank him. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze in reply.

Eventually he adjusts you so he can hold you more comfortably. Every so often he kisses the top of your head, or rubs your shoulder, or squeezes your hand, or says something quietly to you. Pointing out a interesting leaf shape, telling you something inconsequential about his day, prompting you to look when one of the cats does something cute, reminding you that he loves you and it’s okay to feel like this. That he enjoys your company no matter what mood you’re in.

This helps a lot more. Eventually you have enough energy to reply to him in full sentences! He’s visibly relieved at that. Still, he continues to hold you.

It’s after this point that a different cat comes up to you. It sniffs your shoelace then rubs itself against your leg. It flops over your shoe, stretching adorably with its little paws reaching up. It looks up at you all wide-eyed and cute, and finally you give a short puff of a laugh. Satan feels it more than hears it, but still!! He feels successful!

You pet this cat as it stands up and sniffs at your free hand. You look at it with a little smile. There’s a bit more soul in this smile, to Satan’s relief.

Later, as the two of you are leaving, he slips the cat a treat and whispers a thank you to it. Then he takes your hand again and leads you back home.

(He makes a mental note to himself for next time: pet the sad human first!! Then go see the cats!)

_______

Asmo:

Asmo notices that you’re having one of those days today, and he rushes to spoil you. Like Mammon, his first instinct is to take you shopping—but specifically for clothes and makeup and skincare products. Stuff that would cheer him up.

But you’re tired, and he understands that. It’s okay, he still knows what to do!

Asmo brings you into his room. You curl up in a sad, tired lump on his bed. He lets you chill there while he gathers up the stuff he wants.

He returns to you with his arms full of stuff! Nail polish, face masks, a hairbrush, moisturizer and hair oil, etc etc. Stuff for taking care of you.

He makes a point of only doing stuff that doesn’t sting at all. No plucking eyebrows or messing with your cuticles or anything like that. Just the stuff that feels nice.

Asmo quietly chatters about people he knows and stuff he’s used and whatever the latest gossip he’s heard is. Not even really to inform you this time, because he knows you’re probably not gonna remember much when you’re like this, but more to provide you with a constant, grounding backdrop of his familiar voice.

He speaks softly to you as he wipes your face with cleanser and then proceeds with his skincare process. He gently brushes your hair, spending twice as long as necessary just because it feels nice. He insists you don’t bother to move as he sits next to you and paints your nails.

At some point he runs out of stuff to do, so he ends up just brushing over your face with a clean makeup brush. No product on it at all, he’s just doing it to make you relax, because it’s soft and it feels nice. It’s meditative, honestly. For both of you.

He spends a good long while doing that.

He finishes up and lies down next to you. He pulls you into a cuddle. You offer to return the favour for him. Do his skincare and hair and nails and stuff for him, spoil him back—because he deserves the best.

For the first time ever, he declines. He shushes you and holds you tighter. This is the only situation in which he would ever refuse that!

He says you’re more than welcome to return the favour tomorrow if you like, but for now he just wants you to rest. He did all that for you to get you in this relaxed state you’re in right now, don’t get up and un-relax yourself so fast! Keep your brain turned off! It’s good for you sometimes!

… yes, Asmo is surprised by his own selflessness too—more surprised than you are by now, knowing him. He’s always been selfless for your sake since you first became his friend. It still surprises him though.

_______

Beel:

Beel is your best guy for validation. For quiet, thoughtful, unwavering support. He’s a lot more insightful than he’s often given credit for. He’s one of the best people in this family in terms of emotional intelligence, no question about it.

He knows just what to do. He observes you as the day goes on, taking the first opportunity to pull you aside and check on you without any others around. Just to make absolutely sure there’s nothing else going on.

His voice is soft, his hands are gentle, and he puts effort into understanding you. You’re family, he loves you so much! So of course he would.

He’ll share his food with you of course—both because he wants you to know that he loves you that much, and because he’s trying to remove a task from your to-do list. You don’t have to think about getting food and preparing it and any of that if he just. Does it for you. You can spend your very limited energy elsewhere.

He’ll take you with him on his routine walk, just so you can have a change of scenery and an opportunity to chat uninterrupted.

He listens to you complain about being outside with his characteristic placid sympathy—a combination that would be a bit contradictory if it came from anyone else, but somehow makes perfect sense for Beel. It’s soothing. Reassuring, somehow. He helps a lot, just by being himself.

When you inevitably run out of energy—much quicker than you usually do, but you expected that—he offers to carry you. Or rather, he automatically goes to do it on muscle memory, because that’s just what he does with tired loved ones (Belphie usually). He catches himself and realizes he should ask first in this case. Just to make sure. He’s considerate like that.

You are very tired… and you want contact. So of course you accept the offer. How could you refuse when he offers so earnestly?

He walks in measured, consistent steps as he carries you. The sway of his movement is deliberately relaxing. He’s trying to lull you into a meditative haze, or maybe put you to sleep. Either is good, he thinks.

The warmth of him makes the… everything about being outside when you’re feeling this way a lot more tolerable. The sounds of his footsteps, his breaths, his heartbeat… all of that drowns out the background noise just enough. Your face is pressed into his jacket, so the streetlights don’t stab your eyes and all the distressingly inconsistent outside smells are entirely covered by the spices-aromatics-soap scent of Beel. It’s a smell you know very well, and the familiarity of it is grounding.

Everything about him is grounding, really. He really did know exactly what to do.

At the end of the day… it’s okay if you don’t smile. He would like you to, of course, but he will meet you where you’re at. Anyway, it’s more important to him that you feel like it’s safe to show however it is you actually feel around him. He understands the amount of trust that takes, and he’s honoured by it. Nothing is more important to him than that trust.

So, you don’t have to smile. It’s okay.

Don’t be strong, he tells you. There’s no need, for now. Just let him. Rest, lean on his strength—he’s got more than enough for both of you. He’s got you. He’s not going anywhere.

_______

Belphie:

Oh, you’re tired? A bit sad, a bit grouchy? Damn. Looks like even HE has more energy than you today. That’s not something he sees often! Well, that’s fine. He knows what to do.

It’s straight to baby jail with you!

In his arms, that is. In bed, surrounded by his best pillows, covered by the least warm heavy blanket he has, so you won’t overheat but will still feel nice and covered.

He positions you so you’re facing each other, with your head tucked under his chin. So you have room to comfortably breathe and talk, but your face is still as covered as possible so you won’t be bothered by any lights.

Emotional intelligence may not be Belphie’s strong suit, but he is observant and he understands exhaustion. This may not exactly be the usual kind of exhaustion, but still! There’s no demon better equipped to understand what’s going on with you right now, just by nature.

He’s totally fine with cuddling you in silence if you don’t feel like talking. That really works for him, actually, because it allows him to nap.

Not that he doesn’t WANT to listen to you. He does. He’d be happy to. But he gets it if you don’t wanna bother with that. It’s okay.

He will, however, delay taking a nap until you doze off first. He just wants to make sure you’re okay. He’s not about to just fall asleep and abandon you if you still need attention.

If you’re not falling asleep very fast, he will help. Not with magic, surprisingly. He’s being more… gentle, he supposes, than that in this situation.

He talks quietly about nothing important. The soft drone of his voice, kept consistent and deliberately soporific, melts into your brain like butter, slowing it way down. Blocking everything else out. Gradually turning it off. One hand rubs your back slowly, almost as if to match the rhythm of his voice.

It’s so relaxing. You feel like you could stay like this forever and never want to move, you’re that comfortable.

Belphie knows what he’s doing.

It works really well! He makes sure you feel loved and cared for, then makes sure you get some extra rest. Mental and physical recharging.

Of course, you wake up feeling a lot better. Maybe not entirely back to your normal self yet, but definitely better. How could you not?

You’re a lot less tired after you’ve slept, and less sad too… so he’s succeeded—but you’re still not smiling!

He can fix that, right?

He lets you get up and stretch first, of course. He does the same. Before you leave the room though, he wraps you up in another hug.

He pulls back to examine your face after a minute or two.

Hmm… you look comfy, but still no smile! He can’t have that! So he hugs you tightly again, but this time his fingers start to lightly poke and brush over your sides. He’s trying to force you to smile by tickling you. He’s not gonna do too much, he’s not trying to overwhelm you. He stops as soon as you crack a smile.

There we go, he says as he gives you one last gentle squeeze. That was all he wanted, he tells you.

He doesn’t let go of you for long, over the rest of the day. Always holding your hand, giving you random hugs, draping himself over your shoulders—but without making you take all his weight for once, because he knows you’re still kinda tired. Enough of it to be soothing, but no more. Just so you don’t get lonely. He doesn’t want you to get all sad again.

If you do get sad again though, it’s okay. He will squish the sadness out of you all over again, as many times as you need. He doesn’t mind.

_______

[teapot-studies]

Random writing tips that my history professor just told during class that are actually helpful

Download all your sources or print them so you can turn off your wifi

Give your phone to someone

Just. WRITE. Writing is analysing, you’ll get more ideas as you write. It doesn’t need to be perfect, for now you can just blurt out words and ideas randomly. You can fix it later.

Create a skeleton/structure before writing.

Stop before you get exhausted. It’s best to stop writing when you still have some energy and inspiration left, this will also motivate you to get started again next time.

Make a to do list

Work in bite sizes. Even if it’s not much, as long as you put some ideas on paper or do some editing.

Simple language =/= boring language, simple language = clear language.

Own your words. If they are not your words, state this clearly in the text, not just in the footnotes.

STOP BEFORE YOU GET EXHAUSTED. Listing it again because it’s easily one of the best tips a teacher has ever given me.

[wonustars]

𝘚𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘭 '𝘴 𝘓𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴

“𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪����𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴. 𝘪’𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶” - 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘦’𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘩

𖧧 pairing: choi seungcheol x afab!reader 𖧧 wordcount: 23.5k words

𖧧 reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated <3! tumblr is based on reblogs not likes, and they help writers like me to get better reach. thank you ^~^

𖧧 genre: best friends to friends with benefits to lovers, slow burn, angst, fluff, smut (mdni 18+)

𖧧 summary: all it took was one kiss and suddenly you and Seungcheol’s friendship has turned upside down. 𖧧 In other words: exploring how far the boundaries of your lifelong friendship can take the two of you, you and Seungcheol try to navigate what it's like to be friends with benefits. just because you're secrelty in love with each other won't fuck everything up...right?

𖧧 tags: bsf!seungcheol, nonidol!au, rich!seungcheol, middleclass!reader, sml!wonwoo, jealous!cheol, possesive!cheol, mutual pining, SLOW BURN, ANGST, both mc's are heavily in denial, lotssss of miscommunication and misunderstandings, they are one year apart, jeonghan is the only sane person, hoshi is a clingy drunk, mona eisa makes an appearance!, its such a cliche story but i love it, they make bad decsions when theyre 'h' word... 𖧧 smut tags/warnings: dom!scoups, sub!reader, multiple smut scenes, p in v unprotected sex, semi-public sex (sorry), slight mutal intoxicated sex in the first smut scene, choking, slapping, multiple positons, oral (f. receiving), fingering, creampie, praise and degradation, pet names (baby, angel, princess, love).

𖧧 note: finally... its here. im sorry for the long wait :"). i thought i was only going to do 10k words but i got carried way. i want to thank @mysafehaneul who helped me with editing this story as well as my two irl friends who brainstormed ideas with me through out the writing process <3. if i've missed any tags/warnings please dont be afraid to lmk! anyways,,, im excited because this thing is my baby, i hope you enjoy! your thoughts and comments are always welcome :') leave me a comment or ask if you want~

As long as you can remember, Seungcheol and you have been attached to the hip. Even though he was a year older than you, you couldn’t remember the last time you spent a day without him, starting all the way from the young, bright age of 5, when you and your family moved into the small, humble house across his. Although your parents weren’t very well off, Cheol was. It was an odd thing that you two were neighbours because his house was much more grand and nicer kept than yours. This didn’t really bother you growing up though, he always made you feel like an equal.  

Seungcheol has been with you through it all, from the petty fights in middle school to the pains of adolescence in high school. He’s seen you at your worst like the time you tripped and fell trying to impress a cute guy at school, which resulted in a nosebleed. You were so embarrassed but at the end of the day, Cheol was there to help you clean your bloody nose and pick you back up. A true night and shining armour in disguise. He was the one to patch up your heart, breakup after breakup. Always your shoulder to lean on when you’re feeling down, and especially when you’re happy. 

A man and best friend like Choi Seungcheol didn’t come around very often, and you took notice of that since you were young. You cherish every moment you have and will have with him. He is a true gentleman with a heart of gold, he’s handsome, smart, rich and caring. Every single box on your list is ticked off when it comes to him. Yet, you know that no matter how hard you love him, you will only ever be his best friend. The girl he sees is practically his younger sister. The bittersweet feeling of being so close to him tugs your heart till it's torn. It took you a long time to accept that all you’ll ever be is his best friend, and even now you’re still trying to accept this fact. 

I.

Fall freshly arrived in your city. The bustling sound of cars, the light whistle of the wind, the leaves that would crunch with each step. It is the perfect atmosphere for you and Seungcheol's weekend movie marathon. On today’s agenda is Divergent, a series you loved reading growing up. 

There you two sat, snuggling on the couch, wrapped in maybe ten pounds worth of blankets that could be someone’s monthly rent downtown. This is why you loved having movie marathons at Seungcheol’s place, he always has the best blankets, the best pillows, the best snacks; you could go on for days with reasons. 

Your head on his shoulder, his arm resting behind you on the couch, everything felt perfect. If you closed your eyes for just one second, you could pretend that you and he were together and that this was just a stay-at-home type of date. But, the moment your eyes open again you are faced with the reality of the situation. 

“Wow, this movie was a lot better when I was like 13…” you snort after finishing re-watching Divergent for the first time in a long time. Only because Cheol hadn’t seen it before. 

“Hmm, it's not that bad..?” He tries to defend the movie, but as someone who read all the books in middle school, you knew that it just didn’t compare. 

“No Cheol you don’t understand, it’s just gets worse from here. I really don’t know why they didn’t just decide to follow the book more properly. The first one was so good.” you huff with a frustrated sigh after finishing your rant. 

Seungcheol can only chuckle, his voice sending vibrations from how close in proximity you two were. He didn’t mind the physical affection between the two of you, after being around each other for so long, you two became accustomed to it. You were always the type to rant to him about the little things, and he just likes to sit there and listen. He always wants to be the person you go to when you want to let your feelings out, no matter how trivial your tangents are. 

“Y/n, if you hate the last two movies why are we watching them?” He asks you, his brow quirked up. 

“You’re right actually, maybe we can watch something else…” You agree, your head craned up to look at him from where you’re positioned. A small smile danced across your lips, so close to him you could feel his breath fan your face. The smell of his cologne tickles your nostrils. 

“Wanna watch Ponyo?” Seungcheol suggests he knows how much you love Ghibli movies. You always like to mention to him that you’re Ponyo and he’s Souske. He doesn't disagree with you, jesting that he would carry you around in a bucket full of water as Souske does. 

Agreeing, giving an affirmative nod, you snuggle into him further as he changes the movie, exiting out of the dumpster fire they call the Divergent. As the movie starts to play, you think back to all the times Seungcheol was your Souske, and all the times he spent making sure you would heal from your hurt. 

II. 

Seungcheol has always seen himself as your best friend. The man that will be there for you when you have no one else to turn to. He has never seen you as more than his best friend, his y/n. He is a man who never second-guesses himself, always keeping a strong-willed sense of mind. Every time one of his friends asked him if he had feelings for you, he would simply answer no; and that you were like a younger sister to him. 

That first year was lonely for him, he didn’t really know anyone and all his classes kept him away from socializing. The only thing that seemed to have stayed constant was you. You face-timed him at least once a week before he went to bed, never forgetting to remind him how much you missed him, and how much you cared for him. In the simplest words, you were his rock for during first year. 

Seungcheol was never warned about how lonely and jarring your first year could be. The change in place, people, and most importantly the change in the fact that you weren’t there experiencing it beside him. He was never one to believe clichè sayings, but he finally understood what the saying “distance makes the heart grow fonder” really felt like. He had gotten so overwhelmed from the loneliness he even began to write you letters, ones he would never actually send out, as cheesy as it sounds. But knowing that he was addressing them to you brought him some type of solace in that first year. 

 A year later you came to study at the same university, and he was elated, to say the least. Finally, he had thought to himself. The one person he hadn’t been able to see, smell, or touch for a year was finally going to be in his proximity. 

Unlike Cheol, you were only able to go to this school through bursaries and scholarships, your parents simply just couldn’t afford to send you to school in a different city otherwise. It reminded you how lucky Seungcheol was to receive support from his parents, getting and going to school was nothing he had to ever think twice about. You knew you could’ve stayed with your family, and gone to school closer to your house, but with Cheol away, it just wasn’t the same. Nothing had felt the same since he left. But this didn’t matter to you the moment you felt his arms wrap around you again. 

You stood there in the airport all alone, eyes searching for a head of freshly dyed blond hair. The moment you heard his voice call your name, you knew you were finally home. 

“Y/n!” An excited, deep voice calls out for you. 

You whip your head around to see him. The man you hadn’t seen in so long, the man you were so desperately in love with. Your best friend. 

“Cheol!” A squeal escapes your lips, you run to him. He pulls you into a tight hug, wrapping his large hands around your smaller frame. Swinging you around like crazy, a laugh bubbles up from your throat. 

“I’ve missed you so much y/n.” Cheol exasperates as he hugs you tighter, leaving a kiss on the top of your head.

“I’ve missed you too Cheol…” You whisper into his chest, breathing in his expensive cologne, not caring that you are in public; staying there to embrace him for a weirdly long period of time. “Never leave for that long again.” 

III.

“Y/n for fucks sake please stop asking me if we can match for Halloween,” Seungcheol whines, his hands running over his face in exhaustion. 

“C’mon it be so fun please please pleaseee,” you beg, your “please’s” getting longer with each second he refuses. You’re both sat on his couch, the morning after your movie marathon sleepover. Kneeling beside his spot on the sofa, shaking his shoulder excessively to get him to agree with you. 

It’s a week before Jeonghan’s infamous Halloween party, one that you’ve attended every year since you moved here. It is known for being one of the biggest parties of the year, and Jeonghan is the most dramatic yet genius host on campus. Everyone goes, and you mean everyone. This year is no different than the previous ones. You and Cheol have gone together every year, and he has yet to do a matching costume with you. This year you’re simply not backing down from a simple no. 

“But Tom and Jerry would be so funny!” You attempt to reason with him, giving him your biggest doe eyes and sweetest pout. You looked ridiculous, begging like a Victorian child asking for an extra piece of bread. 

“Fine. Fine!” Seunghceol finally gives in. If there was something he just can’t resist, it’s when you beg to him with puppy dog eyes. It somehow has always worked for you, even when you two were kids. 

“Yes! Finally oh my god, i’ve been waiting for this to happen for the past 3 years!” You jump around victoriously in your fluffy pyjamas. Seungcheol can’t help but laugh at your celebratory dance, especially when you wore fluffy bunny printed pj’s. 

“Ok ok calm down, I’ll only allow it if I get to be the stupid Jerry cat.” he grumbles, arms crossed as he leans against his couch. 

“You mean Tom you idiot..” You muttered under your breath as you sit back on the couch, returning back to the Ghibli marathon. 

You weren’t very slick though, Seungcheol weirdly had a great sense of hearing for someone who can act like an old man sometimes. He turns to you with a glare and you let out a squeak, ready to run away from his hold, wow he is really taking his Tom role seriously, you thought as he chased you around his apartment. The sound of child-like laughter fills the space, your Ghibli movie long forgotten. 

IV.

Monday had finally rolled around the corner, which you dread even more after spending the weekend in Paradise a là Seungcheol, a.k.a his apartment; which was a lot more fun to be at in comparison to your own. He lived on one of the highest floors in his apartment building, while you lived in the cheapest place closest to campus. It was kind of laughable how different your life is compared to Seungcheol’s, yet out of everyone he’s your bestfriend. 

What’s even worse about this Monday is that you’re finally getting your assigned partner for the midterm project. With your fingers crossed you hope that the professor would pair you up with either Jeonghan or Seunghcheol. At least it would make doing the project a little bit more bearable, especially knowing that the whole project itself is worth fifteen percent of your grade. Not a lot but enough to make a dent in your average if you get careless, which you can’t afford. Literally. 

“Okay, so I’m just going to start assigning people randomly…” The professor drones on before beginning to give out assigned partners. 

“Y/n L/n and Jeon Wonwoo.” Your name is finally called, and thank the heavens your partner is someone you actually know, and someone you know who is smart too. 

In a hurried fashion, you make your way to sit beside Wonwoo. You two weren’t really all that close, but you had mutual friends. He is often seen with Mingyu, considering the fact that they are roommates. You had only learnt this from Seungcheol, who was closest to Mingyu. A golden retriever turned person who he had become friends with at the end of his first year in uni. 

Wonwoo is an attractive guy, and smart too, which you cannot deny. He was relatively popular for those reasons, but you never really paid much attention to him. Only ever talking to him at parties or in the student union centre eating lunch with Cheol, Mingyu, and Vernon. Honestly, you were just glad to be paired with someone who you know isn’t going to make you do the whole damn thing by yourself. 

You slip into the desk where he sits, exchanging a soft hello before bringing out your laptop to write notes. “Hey Wonwoo, I don’t know if you remember me but I’m Y/n.” 

“Yeah I remember you, you’re Seungcheol’s best friend right?” He asks, probably thinking you look familiar from all the times you had been seen walking around campus with Cheol.

“I am, unfortunately…haha.” You laugh awkwardly along with your joke, trying to break the ice between you two. Wonwoo just nods his head at you slowly, aware of your attempt to make a joke. He definitely wasn’t much of a talker. You picked up on that every time Mingyu had brought him around, and every time you saw him he was either on his phone or talking to a friend quietly in a corner. 

You two got down to business pretty quickly after your lousy attempt to try and make conversation. This is definitely one of those moments that would potentially keep you up a night. The ones where you’re trying to fall asleep and suddenly remember an embarrassing thing you did or said. 

On the other side of the room are Jeonghan and Seunghceol, and much to Seungcheol's dismay he got paired up with the one person he didn’t want to be with. The moment the professors called out their names, Jeonghan turned around giving him the biggest shit-eating grin. With the professor’s queue, he makes his way to sit beside Cheol, sitting too close for comfort. 

Jeonghan loves to tick Seungcheol off, he thinks it’s a great way to pass the time. Maybe even one of his favourites. There was something about getting under his skin that he just found so amusing. It doesn’t really help that Jeonghan is one of Y/n’s closest friends, second to Cheol even. 

He met Y/n in her first year at the University and even knew Cheol prior to Y/n, but the two men somehow never really got along. Jeonghan and Y/n shared an intro to psychology class back in her first year and became close for sharing an innate hatred towards their professor. After that, they were like two peas in a pod. Four years into their friendship, Jeonghan still relentlessly teases Cheol, especially when Y/n is around. 

Jeonghan has always been an observant man, at least he’d like to think so. The first time he saw Y/n and Seungcheol interact he could tell from the beginning that they were hopelessly in love with each other. Although he would never outright butt into their relationship, he definitely knows how to push things along. Their body language towards each other really was the biggest giveaway and the way Cheol gives into everything Y/n would say. What’s even more laughable was the fact that they were both deeply in denial, for what reason? Jeonghan didn’t know but he found their oblivious attitude to be insufferable. Call him bitter but after spending much time with the two of them he just wanted them to finally bite the bullet and date already. 

“Hmm look at Y/n getting all cozy with Wonwoo, they would be cute together wouldn’t they Cheollie?” Jeonghan provoked, calling Seungcheol by a horrid nickname. He poked at Seungcheols arm, giving him a cheshire cat grin. The blond man was not very amused by Jeonghan’s antics, giving him a deathly glare. 

“You’re blowing this out of proportion you idiot, they’re just partners for a project.” Seungcheol scoffs, rolling his eys at how fast Jeonghan is shipping you with Wonwoo. “Also stop fucking calling me Cheollie, its such an ugly nickname.”

“Why not Cheollie? You let Y/n call you that…” He wiggles his eyebrows. “I’m just saying people don’t just start dating out of nowhere, plus they’ll be spending a lot of alone time together.” Jeonghan eggs on, nudging Seungcheol with his elbow.

Seungcheol moves his attention towards you, boring holes into the back of you and Wonwoo’s head. Seeing you with Wonwoo didn’t settle right with him, he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it’s because of what Jeonghan said or the fact that imagining you so close with another man wasn’t something he was used to. It doesn’t matter anyways, they’re just partners, nothing else, Seungcheol thought. He lets out a huff of vexation, bracing himself for the upcoming weeks he has to put up with Jeonghan’s antics. 

X.

The day of Jeonghan’s party had finally arrived, and you couldn’t be more excited. Midterms had just finished up and you were more than ready to drink away the stress. You hadn’t been to a party in a while now, and you were definitely due for a good one. You were dying just to get your mind off school at least for one night, drinking with your friends and wear a skimpy halloween costume. 

The walk to Seungcheol’s apartment isn’t very long, a brisk five minutes and you’re already in front of the entrance. You were excited to see his costume, especially because you haven’t seen him dress up for halloween since you two were kids. As you walked down to his apartment you couldn’t help but appreciate the perfect weather for tonights party. The slightly chilly wind blowing through your hair, the moon full and shining bright in the already dark sky. You just had a weird flutter in your heart that gave you the impression that this party isn’t going to be like any of the previous ones. 

Walking down the hall to your best friend’s place always has you in awe, no matter how many times you’ve been down the path to his apartment. Most of the time you felt out of place, everything is so extravagant. The doorman, the high-speed elevator, and especially Cheol’s large floor to ceiling windows. It had a whole view of the bustling city and it took the breath out of you everytime you would spend a few minutes appreciating the scenery. 

You knock on his door, and not more than a few seconds later hes opening the door for you. A hearty laugh leaves your lips as your met with the image of him wearing grey cat ears. His cheeks rosy and the tips of his ears turn a hot red as he lets you in. you can’t help but giggle as you make your way into his living room. 

Seungcheol may be a little embarrassed by the cat ears but the real reason he’s blushing so hard isn’t because you’re laughing at him. The moment he opened the door the first thing he notices is your costume. He mentally slapped himself trying not to drool at your figure. The brown corset you had on hugs your waist perfectly, the tightness accenuating your cleavage. Your breasts are practically spilling out of the top and the view is causing all the blood in his body to rush to his head. As you walked past him laughing he couldn’t help but look down at how little your skirt covered. His heart was beating so fast, but he quickly masks his desire for you with annoyance. 

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you in cat ears.” You’re practically creasing on his couch, laughing after every word. 

“You’re the one who wanted to do Tom and Jerry!” he defends himself, a displeased look plastered on his face. 

“O-ok sorry sorry, it’s cute! Don’t worry.” A giggle slips past your lips. You stand up and fix his cat ears, your smile widening at the fact that he’s not happy with how “cute” his costume is. “C’mon lemme draw some whiskers and a nose on you.” 

Taking his hand, you lead him to the couch. You let him sit down comfortably on the couch before you climb onto his lap, your eyeliner pencil in hand, ready to draw some whiskers. You focus on giving a cute circular nose, your tongue sticking out a little in concentration. Not wanting to mess up the whiskers, you dont pay attention to anything else as you draw three straight lines on each of his cheeks. 

Seungcheol on the other hand is trying very hard not to focus on you. His hands are squeezing your hips with an iron grip. The direct view of your cleavage, the proximity of your body, it was getting too much for him. You were so in your own world, concerned by his cat makeup that you don’t even notice your skirt riding up the slightest bit. He takes notice of this, his breath caught in his throat. With your legs straddling his, he has a good view of your panties peaking out from your skirt. Seungcheol can feel himself getting aroused but he’s trying his best to ignore it, his hands starting to sweat profusely. 

“Fuck…” He mumbles under his breath, looking straight down at your exposed underwear. He felt a bit like a pervert but he just couldn’t tear his eyes away from your body. 

“Shh I’m almost done promise.” You assure him, oblivious to the fact that he’s not whining about the make up. “Annnd done!” A satisfied smile spreads across your face as you get off his lap. Pulling down your skirt a little because of it slightly hiking up from being on his lap. 

With a relieved sigh, Seungcheol gets up from the couch after you. He wasn’t sure why he’s feeling about this away about you all of sudden. Maybe it was because you two were so close in such an intimate way? No that can’t be it, Seungcheol thinks to himself, we’ve known each other for so long. Maybe its because your costume was accenuating every attractive thing about you, he really didn’t know. But what he does know is if that happened again he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. With that last thought, he decides to just brush it off for now. He feels more than ready to get some alcohol in his system. 

“Lets go?” Seungcheol asks, lending you his bicep to wrap your hand around. You nod, taking his arm before walking out of his apartment, ready for the fun night ahead. 

VI. 

You two arrive in front of Jeonghan’s house. It isn’t a far walk from Seungcheol’s apartment, maybe five to eight minutes and you were already there. As you stroll along the side walk the music exuding from his house becomes increasingly loud. The thumping of the bass echoing slightly throughout the neighbourhood, the halloween decorations hanging off the exterior. You are a little bit in awe at how many people are able to fit in a tiny bungalow, but despite the crowded atmosphere, a party like this is a perfect way to celebrate the end of your midterms. 

As you and Seungcheol enter the house, you can already recognize a few familiar faces from your classes as well as some of your closest friends. The music practically enveloped you the moment you stepped into the room, the bass causing your heart to thump out of your chest. You squeeze onto Seungcheol’s arm tighter, not wanting to lose him in the crowd. He keeps you close, fearing that you may disappear the moment he lets you go. As you continue to scan the room for your friends, one person in paritcualr catches your attention. 

 Soonyoung who was of course wearing a tiger onesie, is already in a drunken state, swaying around aimlessly, bumping into people and then proceeding to apologize with a hug accompanied by a kiss on the cheek. Watching this unfold causes a giggle to escape your lips, you pat Seungcheol and motion to the silly drunkard making his way out of the heaps of people. Seungcheol chuckles at Soonyoung as he ends up making his way over to the two of you. The drunk tiger yells out for you , engulfing you and Cheol into a bone crushing hug.  

“Typical of you Hosh, you’re already drunk off your ass,” you scold him as you call him by his nickname, patting his fluffly tiger hood. “Now what are you doing going around and giving people kisses?” 

“Y/Nie stop acting like my mom, c’mon lets go find Hao and the others.” Soonyoung whines, tugging on your arm so that you would follow him. You give Seungcheol a look, and he just nods, you knew that meant he would go and find you later. So you let Hoshi pull you away, brining you over to your friends. 

You spot Jeonghan and Minghao conversing in a corner of the room. This is the first time you’ve seen an angel look like they were out to do more bad than good. Jeonghan’s angel wings and halo shaking as he laughs at something Minghao says. On Jeonghan’s left side is a Mona Lisa painting with the head and arms cut out. You laugh at the way Minghao is constantly keeping his hands in the same way as the original position of the painting as he talks. 

“Y/N! Finally the party doesn’t really start till you’re here.” Jeonghan greets you, taking you out of Hoshi’s grasp to pull you into a hug. “Your costume is adorable but also really sexy, Jerry right? Where’s your Tom?” 

“Goodevening to you too Hannie, and uhm…Mona Lisa?” You giggle at Minghao’s odd choice in costume.

“Mona Eisa actually.” He corrects and you don’t even think to ask any further questions. 

“Well… he would’ve been here if this intoxicated hamster didn’t pull me away from him.” You reply to Jeonghan, giving Soonyoung a look, seeing that he’s already cuddling up to Minghao, who doesn’t seem too pleased by the sudden affection. “Soonyoung stop trying to strangle Hao, he’s not going to disappear.” you scold him again, resulting in a pouty tiger. 

“Jesus Soonyoung let go of me that onesie you have on is like a fucking space heater.” Minghao complains, trying to push Hoshi away. Hoshi only whines, holding on tighter. Looking at the situation unfolding, a stranger would think Minghao is the older one of the two. You have always known how much of a lightweight Hoshi is, but tonight it seems he’s had more than usual. 

“Y/N stop calling me a hamster, and Hao what’s wrong with a hug? I thought we were friends..” He continues to whine, his cheeks red from the alcohol.

“We won’t be if you keep holding onto me like that you idiot,” Minghao replies, giving Hoshi a warning look. He let Minghao go with a mope forming on his lips. Minghao can only laugh and pat his head. He wasn’t a big fan of physical affection but he still adored Hoshi even if he was clingy. Y/N found their friendship amusing, they would always quarrel with one another yet still show affection when it really mattered. 

“Ok ok, break it up you two. Y/N over here is way too sober, let’s fix that.” Jeonghan suggests, and you happily agree. Hoshi’s face lights up and he attempts to follow the two of you. “No Hoshi, not you, you’ve had enough. Go find Seungkwan Hao, this guy needs to be put on an alcohol ban.” 

Soonyoung sulks even harder, causing his chubby cheeks to accentuate. It made you giggle at how cute he gets when he’s drinking. You bid your goodbyes to Hoshi and Minghao and follow Jeonghan into the kitchen. As you trek towards where the alcohol is you say hello to some of the people you were friendly with, complimenting the pretty costumes you saw on the way. 

 When you finally reach the kitchen, the countertop is filled with bottles of every type of alcohol. You end up spotting Seungcheol standing around the island, talking and drinking with Mingyu, Vernon, and Wonwoo. They notice your presence immediately giving you a polite wave. Wonwoo on the other hand takes a longer than normal look at you. This catches Seungcheol’s attention, causing him to grip his red cup harder till it is slightly crumpled in his hand. 

“Cheollibee! I didn’t see you come in earlier.” Jeonghan snickers, taking a good glance at his costume. This only makes Cheol scowl at him, muttering about the wretched nicknames Jeonghan is always coming up with. 

“Hello Jeonghan.” Seunghceol deadpans, still leaning leisurely against the island. 

“You wanna take a shot with me and Y/N? It’ll be fun, promise.” Jeonghan urges, a mischievous glint twinkling in his eyes. You watch the two and laugh, Seungcheol never fails to show his disdain for Jeonghan, it was kind of their thing.

“Sure why not.” Cheol shrugs, coming up to the two of you. He stands behind you, your body pressed against the counter, you can feel his breath fan the back of your neck. Stiffening at the feeling, you watch him grab a bottle from in front of you before pouring out three shots. For some reason the music was nothing compared to how fast your pulse was beating in your ears right now. 

Seungcheol’s strong bicep wraps around you to pour a sufficient amount of liquor in each glass, his cologne engulfing your senses. It makes your knees weak, the proximity of his body pressing up against you has your mind running laps. It was so close you could feel his front side brush up against your behind. The thin material of your skirt feeling the texture of his rough jeans. 

“You ready?” Seungcheol whispers in your ear as you look down at the shot glass that he’s trying to hand you. The way his breath fans across your face makes you shiver inwardly. You only nod, taking the little shot glass out of his grasp. 

From Jeonghan’s point of view you look like a deer in headlights, he can’t help but smirk. Seungcheol’s presence obviously affecting you. 

You turn around to face Cheol, and he backs away a little bit, taking the space beside you; one of his hands gripping the counter beside your waist. His blond hair pushed back, the soft cat ear headband hes wearing contrasts against his hard features. As you throw back your shot, you can’t help but keep your eyes on him. His strong jawline becomes more prominent as he takes his own shot, the liquor dripping a little bit off his chin onto his shirt. Fuck, you thought, i’m not drunk enough for this. 

Jeonghan sees you ogling and can’t help but chuckle to himself, he pours another set of shots before handing them off to the two of you. Taking the shot, you wince one again as you feel the alcohol burn down your throat. Two shots aren’t enough to get you drunk but you were definitely starting to feel a light buzz. Your surroundings start to become a tad bit hazy, but in a good way. 

“Cheollie why don’t you take Y/N to dance?” Jeonghan suggests, his cheshire cat like grin returning. The look of his mischievous smile in juxtaposition with his innocent and pure white angel costume. 

Your eyes light up the moment ‘dance’ slipped out of Jeonghan’s mouth, causing you to tug on Seungcheol’s sleeve, urging him to take you to where everyone else is dancing. The alcohol running through his system and the way your eyes sparkle under the kitchen lights is enough for Seungcheol to agree. He could feel his buzz coming on now but he knew he is far from drunk. 

“Fine, let’s go.” He allows, pretending not to be a little intrigued on what your definition of ‘dancing’ is.  

You smile excitedly and take his hand, leading him to the dance floor, your hips already swinging along with the music. Which was more like the middle of Jeonghan’s living room with the couches pushed to the side. The crowd of people in the middle of the room are moving with the groove of the thumping bass. You start to do the same, letting your inhibitions go. Taking Seungcheol’s hands you place them on your hips, your body's flush with each others. You snake your hands around his neck, holding onto him as you continue to move with the music. The grasp of his large hands holding your hips tight ignites sparks in your stomach. 

Seungcheol’s throat goes dry as you turn around, your back facing him. Your ass flush with his front, causing him to hold onto your hips even tighter. What the fuck…, he thinks to himself. The feeling of arousal sneaking up on him for the third time tonight. As you continue to grind on him, he can’t help but let out a low groan, your ass moving against his growing hard on. 

“You enjoying your self princess?” Seungcheol whispers in your ear, his hands starting to move up and down. From your hips to your waist, up then back down to your hips once again. Your breath hitches, the tips of his fingers leaving a searing heat on your skin in its wake. The buzzing haze clouding your thoughts, the pounding of the music, the feeling of his hands on you, it was too much all at once. 

“Mhmm..” Is the only thing you can say in response as you continue to dance against him. 

Seungcheol chuckles, he can sense your arousal too, with the way you put your hands over his, guiding them back to your hips. Keeping your hands on top of his own, you let the music take over you. You close your eyes to really savour the moment; just because you’re not sure when the next time you will get to experience this with Cheol again. 

The more you dance with him, the warmer you get. The heat of his body radiates onto you, his hands move from your hips down to your exposed thighs then back up. Who knew that two shots in, you would be dancing (grinding) on your best friend in the middle of Jeonghan’s Halloween party? As time goes on, you feel your clothes stick to your skin just a little more than before, as well as the heat brewing in your stomach. 

“Cheollie…” You look over your shoulder to meet his gaze. With a seductive smile, you give him bedroom eyes, not caring that you’re in front of so many people you know. Or the fact that you’re feeling extremely attracted to your best friend right now. “I’m feeling a little warm, can we go somewhere a little more quiet?” you ask, feigning your timidness. 

“Yeah if that’s what you want.” He nods, giving you his charming, dimpled smile. 

You take his hand, leading him down the hallway to Jeonghan’s room. But before you enter you send a text to Jeonghan, asking if it was ok to stay in his room for a bit. He replies promptly saying that it was fine and to drink the water in his mini fridge if you needed to. After reading that you had permission to enter, you bring both you and Cheol into the room, closing the door promptly behind you.

“You feeling better in here Y/N?” Seungcheol inquires, grabbing a water from the mini fridge and handing it to you. You simply nod, grabbing the water from his and taking a sip. 

“Yeah thank you, it was getting really hot out there. Thank god Hannie always keeps his room freezing cold.” You shrug before taking another sip of your water as you sit down on his bed. You admire Seungcheol as he walks toward you, his tight shirt highlighting his muscular biceps, veins running down his forearms. You mentally shake yourself to stop the drool from dripping past your lips. 

He towers over you, standing in front of you as you sit on the bed. You clear your throat before putting the water bottle down on the bedside table. Seungcheol grabs a piece of your hair, tucking it behind your ear, his hand moving down slowly to get ahold of your jaw. His grip is firm but gentle, forcing you to look up at him from where you sit. You gulp, frozen, his actions not clear enough for you to predict what he’ll do next. 

“You have been teasing me a whole lot while you were dancing, did you know that princess?” He asks, looking down at you while he runs his thumb over your lip, pulling it down slightly.

He relinquishes his hold from your face, going to sit beside you on the bed. Your heart beats out of your chest as your eyes meet his. Seungcheol’s pupils are enlarged, his brown eyes lidded with lust. You aren’t sure what to do, but whatever he has planned you really wouldn’t be opposed to any of it. Although you were having fun dancing with him, a part of you knew if you kept on grinding against him like that, his self-restraint would break. 

The muffled music and the sound of your heavy breaths are the only things to be heard in the room. You bite your lip, not sure how to answer him, your cheeks heating with a little embarrassment, apprehension, and excitement.

 “No Cheol I didn’t mean to,” you murmur, your face dangerously close to his. He shakes his head with a chuckle.

“Didn’t mean to what? Get me hard from having you grinding on me like that?” he retorts, his hand comes up to grip your cheek, squishing it between his thumb and forefingers. “I think you did mean to, I only have so much self-control princess.”  

He lets go of his grip on you, caressing the spot on your cheek where he pressed his thumb. With one swift motion, he grips your hips and pulls you onto his lap, moving your thighs to straddle his. You yelp due to how quickly he got you into the position, your skirt riding up once again. 

“Mm.. Maybe just a little bit, I guess I got caught up in the moment…” you admit shyly, averting his hard gaze as you play with the hem of your skirt. 

“Well your actions have consequences sweetheart, so what are you gonna do about it?” He whispers into your ear. A shiver runs down your spine, and the feeling of his hot breath fanning your face causes the heat to pool in your core, staining your panties. 

“Cheollie…” you whimper, his hands back on your hips, his grip tightening with every second that passes. Embarrassed, you bury your face into the crook of his neck, not wanting to look him in the eyes. You were just so embarrassed at how turned on you are, the feeling of his body so close to yours has your walls lining with arousal. 

“You gonna fix what you did princess?” He continues to whisper to you, making you feel like you two are the only people in the entire house. The feeling of his hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly has you leaning more into his touch, his fingertips leaving sparks as he continues. You nod into where you buried your face into his neck. 

“With words.” His tone is firm and another shiver runs through you, but instead, it runs straight through your hot core. His hands now running over your bare thighs, squishing them ever so slightly, as he admires how they look smushed onto his lap. 

“I’ll fix it, I want to.” You whisper as you look down at his full lips, your arms moving to wrap around his neck. “I really want you right now Cheollie…” 

“I want you too, are you sure princess?” He asks, keeping a safe distance until he receives some verbal consent from you. 

“Yes, I want it please.” You’re practically begging, whimpering as you lean in closer, your nose touching his. 

Lost in his scent, you can feel the blood rush to your head at how close you are to him right now. His hands gripping onto your waist, his lips so close to yours but still not touching. The alcohol,  your beating heart, his touch, it’s making your head dizzy with arousal. You wanted this so bad and you didn’t know much you needed it up until this point. Out of all the people you’ve been with before, nothing compares to how much you’re own best friend is turning you on right now. Something about him intoxicates you way more than the two shots you downed less than half an hour ago. 

With that last thought, Seungcheol finally crashes his lips into yours. The moment he felt your lips on top of his it was like a fire ignited in him, one that he couldn’t seem to light properly till you. He’s only been kissing you for less than a minute but you’ve already got him hooked. He knows that theres going to be no one after you. The feeling of your body against his is making all the blood rush down to his dick. 

You place your hands on both his cheeks, pushing him into your face even more. Tasting the remnants of alcohol on his tongue, the flavour of him and what he drank making you whimper into the kiss. Seungcheol pushes his tongue into your mouth, exploring the softness of your lips. You couldn’t comprehend how delicious it is to kiss Seungcheol, like he was some nectar you’ve been deprived of all your life. 

He groans as he feels you grind your clothed heat against his growing erection, the friction causing his head to spin. Gripping your hips even tighter, he continues you to kiss you with while moving your hips back and forth with ease. The hard motions causing you to pull back to let out a moan. 

“Haven’t even touched you properly and you’re already moaning like that…” Seungcheol groans, kissing up exposed cleavage and collarbones. “Fuck angel you’ll be the death of me.”

He adores the corset you have on, the fact that your tits practically spilling out right in front of his face made his dick even harder for you. 

“Mmmph, Cheol please…” You whine as he continues to suck on your exposed skin, leaving red marks all over. Gripping on his biceps to stabalize yourself, the feeling of him sucking harshly on your soft skin makes your eyes roll back. As you continue to grind on him you could feel him growing harder underneath you, it nudges against your cunt but barely, teasing you even further. 

“Tell me baby, what do you want?” He chuckles against your skin, leaving kisses along your neck and face. 

“I need you to fuck me please…” You beg, your eyebrows scrunching in frustration, the kissing and grinding just isn’t enough for you. 

“Are you sure princess?” He asks slowly, trying to make sure that is something you really want. You look into his soft brown eyes with desperation, nodding to let him know that you need him right now. 

“I do I do please Cheol, cant take this teasing anymore.” you complain, grinding your hips to urge him to take you already.

“You’re a needy little slut aren’t you darling?” He smirks, placing his lips on yours once again. This time he doesn’t hold back with his actions, untying your corset from the back before taking it completely off you. He groans into the kiss as he places his hands your breasts, playing and tweaking with your pebbled nipples. You moan into his mouth as you feel him grope at your chest, fondling them in his hands expertly. 

“P-please I need you now Cheol,” you whine harder, gripping onto his strands of blond hair, trying to ground yourself in this moment of increasing pleasure. His lack of touch where you need him most is frustrating you, he may be sucking on your tits but you want him to be sucking on your clit instead. 

You’re irritation forces you to seek relief for yourself, your hand snaking down past the bottom of your skirt, pushing your thong to the side. Placing your fingers on your sticky clit you let out a sastified moan. Cheol catches on quickly to your attempt to pleasure your self. You barely got to go in a full circle on your throbbing bud before he throws you onto the bed, laying you on your stomach. Dizzy from the sudden change in positions, you yell out a yelp as he forces your skirt cladded ass in the air. 

“What a naughty girl you are…” Cheol mutters to himself. 

He tugs at your skirt so it bunches up around your hips, exposing your bare ass for him. Smirking to him self, he starts to caress the supple skin, that is until he brings his hand back to slap your ass with full force. It was so agressive that it jiggles from the impact, leaving a read hand mark on the soft surface. 

“Ah! Cheol please ‘m sorry, didn’t meant to touch m-myself,” you cry out, the tears stinging your eyes. The cries turning into moans as he continues to smack your ass one…two… three times… until its too much for you to count. You’ve never been hit like this before but you can’t deny how good it feels. 

“This is what happens when you act like a fucking whore princess.” He chuckles, rubbing your hand print covered skin, trying to soothe you. “Tell me you wont touch yourself without my permission again.” 

“I-I wont, p-promise. Please Cheollie I need you.” You blubber, the tears falling down your face. He hasn’t even touched your needy pussy and you’re already a mess for him. 

Seungcheol is satisfied at how pliant you’ve become, crying and apologizing for him like a good girl. He thinks of all the things he wants to do to you, but ultimately he decides to reward you first. You had taken his slapping so obediently, he thought, wanting to giving you a prize for enduring him. So he turns you around, your back against the mattress, legs spread wide apart for him. He finally gets a good look at your face, becoming more satisfied seeing that the tears are staining your make up, your nose red, and your eyebrows knotted in sexual frustration as you pout for him. Cute, he thought. 

“Dont worry baby, i’ll eat you so good you’ll forget all about the pain.” He laughs as he lowers himself until he’s face to face with your heat. His warm breath fanning against your folds. His hands gripping your thighs tightly, keeping you spread for him. He licks his lips, wetting them before he indulges into your hot cunt. 

Your underwear already pushed aside, he begins to lick a long fat strip against your wet lips. Letting out a wanton moan, you hold onto his hair, your thighs trying to close but his grip only becoming more tense. 

“Fuck Cheol… so good.” you moan out, your eyes rolling back with pleasure. He hums against your core, sending vibrations. His actions continue to make your walls build up with more arousal. You’re so immersed in the feeling of his tongue, he decides to take it up a notch. Choking on air, you feel him insert a finger into your dripping hole, hooking it so it rubs against that spot that sends you into heaven. As his finger slides in and out of you, he suckles on your bundle of nerves. This is the moment you begin to see stars, and you start to feel that familiar build up below your stomach. Cheol adds another finger, picking up his pace a little bit. 

“Hmmph Cheol please… need to cum.” you beg him, and he speeds up. He speeds up so much you almost black out. Screaming his name, he puts all his force into getting you to the edge, it makes your toes curl. And then its gone. 

“What the fuck?” you ask him, you face flushed from the moments before, but also with frustration. He can only smirk at you as he licks his fingers clean, his jaw wet with your arousal. Seungcheol’s eyes darken as he takes in your small frame below him, your wetness still glistening off his chin. His cat ears long gone, you admire his muscular build as he begins to take off his clothing. 

“Just wanted to see you come on my cock…” He mumbles, lining up his member with your entrance. Its large and the girth of it causes your breath to catch in your throat. You’re a little scared how much of it is going to fit without it stinging, but at this point you can’t bring yourself to care. All you want him to do now is to fuck you dumb. 

Seungcheol’s self control is thinning second by second, he wants to take his time with you. Playing with you till his touch is burned into your skin. Till his length is burned in your pussy’s memory. So he teases you more, rubbing the tip of his hard member against your  dripping folds. He loves how he can hear your lips squelch with every movement he makes. 

Savouring the feeling of his cock head bumping into your clit, he places his hands on the mattress beside your waist. He moves his hips back and forth, letting his length glide against your lips but never going into your needy hole. The underside of his dick nestled within your folds, hitting your clit with each thrust. 

“Oh hmph… Cheollie please… inside please.” you moan salaciously, as you peak at how his cock is rubbing you. It looks so pornographic you almost come just at the sight of all. 

“Sorry baby, I just want to savour you for a bit.” He apologizes, his voice wavering as pleasure radiates through his body. The pre cum beading off the tip of his hardness. He relents his teasing, pulling back a bit to sit on the back of his heels. He stares at your knotted brows, the anticipation clearly written all over your face. Chuckling to himself he enters your tight cunt in one go. “So fucking tight for me…” 

“Cheol!” you yell his name, your legs held up to your chest by his large hands, folding you in half. 

“Holy fuck princess, your pussy is perfect.” He praises into your ear while moving in and out of your entrance with ease. You clench around him after hearing him compliment you, your brain going blank with pleasure. The feeling of his cock makes you dizzy, especially with how perfectly he fills you. His large member stretching your walls deliciously, the tip grazing against that one spot that makes you weak. 

“You love taking this cock like a little slut don’t you.” He mutters, letting go of your legs to put one against his shoulder.  You can only nod and make sounds of approval. 

Seungcheol admires the way his thick cock is spreading your entrance, making him groan. The white ring forming around the base of his dick makes his push into you faster. Your moans increase as you feel him speed up, the sounds of skin slapping fill the room. The echoing sounds of your wet pussy being filled by Seungcheol’s cock grows louder, making you even more horny than before. 

You are so fucked out, you couldn’t even form words of praise for him. The ridges of your walls being filled up by him is something you didn’t know you needed until now. 

That feeling you had in your chest on your way to Cheol’s place resurfaces, is this the night your friendship with him changes forever? You think to yourself while looking into his eyes, your eyebrows scrunching as you moan.

 The sight is so lewd, his member twitches inside your heat. He knows he’s close, but he doesn’t want this to end. As he continues to thrust into you, he can’t help but admire your beauty. Seungcheol was always aware that you’re an attractive person, but something about you being under him right now, drunk off his cock, basking in the moonlight that spills through the semi-closed curtain is really doing something to him. The feeling in his stomach only intensifies as he watches you moan his name deliriously. So fucking pretty, he thinks, the image of your coming undone burning into his memory. 

“You close princess?” He asks you, watching the way your legs are starting to shake a little. You nod as you look at him, silently pleading for him to make you cum. He flashes you a smile as his free hand goes to rub circles on your clit, continuing to piston in and out of your tightening hole. Eyes rolling with pleasure, your back arching off the bed as you lean into his touch even more. Clenching and then unclenching, your pussy is pulsing as it greedily sucks him in. 

Seungcheol curses under his breath at the grip you have around his hard length, your walls pulsating with each circle he rubs into your clit. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna come,” he warns you. 

You smile at him mischeviously, repeating your actions again and again, watching his strokes becoming sloppier by the second. 

“Come inside me Cheol, wanna see it drip out after,” you beg him, staring at him through your eyelashes innocently. He doesn’t have to be told twice, his speed increasing once again. This shuts you up quickly, as you whine at the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix. You feel him twitch in you again, and you know he’s close, so are you. Letting go, you orgasm, letting the high wash over your whole body. Your orgasm triggers his, causing him to spurt his hot load into your spent pussy, creaming you. 

“That was…” you say with a sigh, the exhaustion starting to catch up with you. Seungcheol’s breathing is heavy, his cock still buried in your cunt, his cum starting to seep out of the edges of your folds. 

“Yeah it was.” He agress with you, finally pulling out. He takes a tissue from the bedside table, wiping off his softening member and then you. Kissing your forehead, he collects your clothes as well as his own. 

You watch his muscular back as he picks up each article of clothing. A cold shiver running down your spine as the realisation washed over you, causing your heart to skip. 

I just fucked my best friend, you thought to yourself. Your cheeks heat up profusely at how lustful you two became, but also your bashfulness turns into embarrassment and a little bit of worry. The talks you’ve had with Jeonghan and the others about hooking up with a close friend flood your mind. You know things like these never end well, but at the same time this isn’t just any other friend. This is Seungcheol, and for some reason you can’t pinpoint whether that’s a good or bad thing. 

Seungcheol finishes picking up everything off the floor, handing you your corset as he puts his own clothing on. You untie the strings and clasp the front parts easily, only to struggle with re-tightening the back. With a meek expression, you stand in front of Cheol with your back facing him. 

“Uh, do you think you can tighten the back for me.” your voice sounding small. He smirks at how shy you’ve become after the fact he fucked you shamelessly less than fifteen minutes ago. 

“Of course princess,” he leans in to whisper in your ear. His breath fanning against your neck, causing you to shiver visibly. He lets out a low chuckle before tying up your corset, his fingers gliding agaisnt your skin. The touch is hot but gentle, yet the feeling lingers for a few seconds. You can’t help but gulp, thinking about how just a few moments ago his grip was harsh and possessive. Before you could register what was happening next, he steps away, asking if you want to return to the party. 

“Thank you,” you mumble before taking his hand and leaving Jeonghan’s room. 

It isn’t long before you find the host of the party. He is leaning against the counter, laughing about something with Joshua. The party had dyed down considerably, the only people left were a part of your friend group. You leave Seungcheol’s side to go talk to Jeonghan. 

“Now where have you been?” Jeonghan asks as you walk up to him, his smirk increasing as the blush on your cheeks grow. Your eyes are wide, as if he caught you doing something you shouldn’t. 

“U-um well me and Cheol just hung out in your room for a bit, the party was getting overwhelming.” you mentally curse yourself for stuttering. 

“Uh huh… hanging out. So do I or do I not have to wash my sheets?” Jeonghan presses, smiling deviously at how your mouth opens and then closes. Your eyes are wide with embarrassment, you can feel the heat radiate off your entire face. 

“Jeonghan!” You squeak, before grabbing his arm to pull him aside, leading him away from curious ears. “Ok yes, please wash your sheets. I’m sorry I don't know what happened, one thing just led to the next… and then yeah.”

You admit to your actions, feeling guilty for staining your best friend's sheets. Your eyes are glued to your twiddling thumbs, waiting for his response. Jeonghan laughs, he laughs. A hearty, bent over clutching his stomach type of laugh. 

“Fucking finally, oh my god Y/N. Sorry but it was bound to happen, you should've seen the way he was looking at you tonight. I swear to god if you didn’t fuck him anytime soon he was going to eat you whole.” He giggles, his hand on your shoulder to support himself, as he tries not to double over again. 

“W-what?” You’re confused, you weren’t really sure why Jeonghan said all that, from what you can remember Cheol was acting perfectly normal. 

“You really are so oblivious aren’t you Y/Nie.” He sighs as he pats your head. “I’m just glad you got that out of your system, you haven’t gotten laid in so long.” 

“Hey! You don’t have to say it like that…” you pout, “Hannie, I don’t know what to do now though? Frankly, I’m scared, this is obviously going to change things…” 

“You’ll be fine, trust me. Just talk to him, it’s only Seungcheollie after all.” He comforts you, and it admittedly it does help. You knew if there was anyone you could talk to about this it would be Jeonghan. 

“Ok, I’m going to his place after anyways. Thanks, Hannie. Also please don’t tell Soonyoung and Hao…” You plead. 

“Don’t worry darling, your secret is safe with me.” He smiles softly, pinching your cheek. You give him a hug, thankful you have someone to lean on when you’re feeling distraught. Especially because you can’t get advice about Cheol from Cheol, even if he’s your best friend too. 

“Y/N let’s go home?” Seungcheol interrupts your embrace with Jeonghan. You pull away and his mouth is pressed into a thin line, the possessiveness obvious to anyone but you. Jeonghan playfully kisses your forehead, knowing how much it will piss Seungcheol off. 

“Ok, bye Hannie, I’ll see you on Monday ok?” you wave goodbye as Seungcheol takes your hand in his. 

“Bye Y/N, i’ll speak to you later Seungcheollie. Get home safely you two.” He smirks, eyes connecting with Cheol. His face is hard with an unreadable emotion, he only nods at Jeonghan’s statement before leading you two to the front door. 

You bid your friends farewell as you walk towards the entrance of the house, your eyes drifting over to see the drunken tiger sleeping peacefully on Minghao’s shoulder. You wave goodbye to him as well before you’re engulfed by the chilly fall wind. 

It’s quiet as you continue on the path to his apartment, your footsteps echoing along the pavement. The city lights shine all around you, the moon gleaming in the dark sky. It really is a perfect day for Halloweekend, you think, hearing the cars zip past you along the street. It is nearing 2 a.m., and the streets are not as busy as they were while you were on the way here.  

“You’re not too cold right?” Seungcheol asks awkwardly with his hands in his pocket. 

“A little but it’s only a couple blocks till your place so it’s ok…” you mumble, aware of the stiff atmosphere. He only nods before wrapping his arm around your shoulders, sharing his body heat with you. As you two stride down the pavement, you lean into his touch more. The silence between you two becomes more comfortable, admiring the scenery even more as you’re wrapped in his warmth. 

VII. 

The morning after you lay peacefully asleep on Cheol’s king sized bed. Your breathing steady as Seungcheol observes your soft features. Without even thinking his actions through, he pushes your hair so it’s not in your face. He takes in the way your brows are scrunching, the pout clear on your face even in your sleep. Cute, he thought. 

It was a normal occurrence for you two to sleep in the same bed, platonically. A tradition that carried on from your child sleep overs to adulthood. 

Reminiscing about the events from last night, Seungcheol feels a tug at his heart, he’s confused. Never have you two been that intimate with each other before, and he’s surprised at how much he’s thinking about what happened. The visions of you under him playing over and over again in his brain. This is the first time he has hooked up with someone thats made him think about his actions so intensely. But knowing that its you, out of all people, complicates his feelings even more.Yet he still forces himself to acknowledge the fact that your friendship has changed, but he’s still not sure if it’s good or bad. 

⌗ 𓂃 flash back to seungcheol’s freshman year. 

beep. beep. 

With a heavy heart Seungcheol hangs up the facetime call. You had to go to sleep early, and he only hung up a few minutes ago, but he already misses you. 

The emptiness of his apartment was harrowing. The silence began to amplify, and the lack of noise caused his ears to buzz. The steadiness of his breath was the only sound keeping him grounded in his forlorn reality. 

In his 18 years of life, he has never felt more alone. He was in his first year at University, in a different city full of strangers. Most importantly, he was thousands of miles away from you. You had been with Cheol for the better part of his life, and not having you close was a foreign feeling for him. 

Pulling out his journal, he begins to write every single thought and feeling down, just needing a way to let go of all of his feelings. Telling you up front was scary for him, he didn’t want to burden you with his problem especially since you had many of your own. 

It’s your last year and highschool and when you two were on the phone talking, it was mostly when you were studying for your next test or something along those lines. 

Seungcheol wished that he could tell you everything that he held in his heart but it was just something he couldnt bring himself to do. You seemed so stressed and busy trying to make sure you were able to get into the same university as him, that he just didn’t want to add on to the baggage that you were already carrying. 

The familiar pang in his heart resurfaced once again, it ached in a way he couldn’t really describe. The feeling of being somewhere unfamiliar as well as being around unfamiliar people just made him feel so alone, secluded. It started out with a simple ‘dear y/n’. 

Dear Y/n, 

Today was just like the previous ones. I spent most of my time adjusting to my classes, going over lectures, and like every other day, I still miss you. I actually met someone new today, his name is Jeonghan, and I don't really like him all that much. Although he’s not my favourite person in the world he seems to make me feel less alone. His constant need to pester me about the dumbest things remind me so much of you. He has a childish attitude and I think you two would get along really well. Although in front of him I show distaste for his antics, I'm still thankful that he keeps me company. I wish I could just tell you what’s happening but I want to stay strong. I want to stay strong so that when you get here I can be the one you lean on. I want to be the one that you can talk to when you become overwhelmed with your first year. 

Just because I feel this way right now doesn’t mean that you have to go through the same things as me. I just want you by my side. So hurry up and graduate so i can finally see you in person again. 

Always yours, 

Cheol. 

⌗ 𓂃 end of flashback. 

Before he could wake you up for breakfast, his phone chimes with a notification. He picks up his phone, reading the name only to roll his eyes after, “Yoon Jeonghan”. 

“Had fun last night Cheollie?” Jeonghan chuckles over the line, Seungcheol can already invision the smirk on Han’s lips.

“So much Jeonghan. Why do you ask.” Seungcheol says sarcastically as he gets up to leave the room, not wanting to wake you up from the phone call. 

“Im going to need you to send me $50.” Seungcheol scoffs at this. 

“The fuck? Why?” He presses, pinching the bridge of his nose, he can already feel the headache coming on. 

“Because you and Y/n stained my sheets. Obviously.” Jeonghan says smugly. 

Cheol rolls his eyes once again, he can already envision the look on Jeonghan’s face. He should’ve expected that Y/n told him. He wasn’t mad at her, but he knows that Jeonghan is never going to let this go. He sighs, it was the right thing to do, he literally fucked you on Jeonghan’s bed. 

“Fine fine, just don’t call me again. I hear your voice enough at school as it is.” Seungcheol grumbles, knowing that even though he warns him, Jeonghan will continue to do what he wants. Cheol curses you in his head silently, wondering why a sweet girl like you became friends with the devil’s spawn. 

“So…you gonna finally tell Y/n you’re in love with her?” Jeonghan asks in a non-chalant manner. 

“Jeonghan. I’m not in love with her.” 

“Sure you’re not…but I’m sure you’re pissed as hell knowing Wonwoo was admiring her all night.” Jeonghan teases, causing Seungcheols ears to heat up. He noticed it too, the way Wonwoo’s eyes lingered on you for an abnormal amount of time. Multiple times that night Seungheol had caught him staring . 

“Whatever man, Y/n is my best friend. I want it to stay that way.” Seungcheol huffs before hanging up, the agitation never leaving his body. Agitated at Jeonghan for spitting nonsense and agitated at Wonwoo for looking at you so intensely last night. He doesn’t know why the latter has him so worked up, but he can’t shake the feeling off so easily. 

On the otherside of the door, you stand there, your heart sinking all the way down to your feet. You woke up shortly after Seungcheol went to pick up his call but decided to stay in bed a little longer. Now you’re fully awake, trying to keep your eyes dry after hearing the words that your best friend just uttered. 

It shouldn’t even hurt this much, you think. You know that all you’ll ever be is Seugncheols best friend, but why did it feel like you have just been hit by a ton of bricks? 

Before you could finish your thoughts the door slowly creaks open, so you blink away your unshed tears, coming face to face with your Seungcheol. 

“Oh. Didn’t know you were awake.” Seungcheol’s eyes are wide, he’s wondering if you overheard his call with Jeonghan. 

“Y-yeah I just came from the washroom.” You stutter. A wave of relief washes over Seungcheol. 

Whilst talking to Jeonghan over the phone, it felt like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone that he doesn’t have feelings for you. It was like the words were practically being forced out of his mouth. The guilt was knawing at him, but why? Why should Seungcheol feel guilty for telling the truth? You’re Y/n, his bestfriend Y/n. The Y/n he fucked deep into Jeonghan’s mattress last night… 

“I feel like we should talk about last night…” He says after his train of thoughts. 

Wide eyed and rosy cheeked, you didn’t expect him to bring up the events of last night so early on. The visions of you and Cheol tangled in the sheets of Jeonghan’s bed starting to leak their way back into the forefront of your memory. 

Instead of saying anything more, you just nod. Making your way to his couch, sitting at the corner where the back of the couch and armrest connected. Seungcheol follows suit. He looks serious, lips press into a thin line, eyeing you for some type of indicator that you feel the tension as much as he does. 

“About last night…” you begin, not sure how you want to proceed, but you continue to talk anyways, “Did you enjoy it as much as I did?”

With that question, your heart stops momentarily, preparing for Seungcheol to tell you how much he regretted what happened. 

“I did like it. But I just don’t want this to ruin our friendship Y/n. You’re my best friend.” Seungcheol confesses, you’re nerves put at ease momentarily. He keeps repeating those dreaded words ‘You’re my best friend’. 

With every breath you take its like a stab in the chest. 

“If you regret it that’s ok. We can just leave it in the past, but I just want to be honest with you Cheol…” you gulp, trying to find the right words to express how you feel,

“I’ve never felt that good before, and if there was some way we could arrange something between us. I wouldn’t be opposed.” You finally huff out. Gnawing anxiously at the inside of your cheek, you wait for his response. 

Seungcheol’s heart skips a beat,  he’s quick to agree. “I’m ok with that.” 

“I-Wait? Really? You wanna do this…?” you’re dumbfounded. 

The man of reason himself, is agreeing to a friends with benefits situation. Huh?

Seungcheol is someone who is very aware of how “FWB” tends to ruin friendships, but he can’t resist this opportunity. Especially after last night. 

“I do. I would be lying if I said I didn’t want a round two of what happened at the party… but if we want to do this I feel like there should be some rules.” He concluded. 

VIII. 

“So you are and Seungcheol are fuck buddies now?!” Jeonghan exclaims, you try your best not to slap the incredulous look off his face in the middle of the student union centre. 

“Oh my god why don’t you just tell the whole world while you’re at it,” you seethe, shoving his shoulder lightly as he leans over the table, forcing him to sit back in his chair. His sandwich long forgotten. 

Jeonghan has known the feelings you’ve secretly harboured for Seungcheol for years now. He expected that after what happened at his halloween party you and Seungcheol would finally confess to each other. What he didn’t expect were for the you to do to the exact opposite. I’m surrounded by idiots, he thought to himself.

“You two are the stupidest people alive I swear…” he mutters under his breath. You’re close enough to pick up what he said, giving him a glare from across the table. 

That previous saturday morning you and Seungcheol hashed out the details of you’re enhanced friendship. It was a pretty simple set of rules: 

No strings attached. If one person catches feelings then the agreement is null and void. 

The “relationship” is strictly exclusive. No fucking other people. 

No one is to know about this. Exception: Jeonghan. 

There wasn’t really a point hiding anything from Jeonghan, even if Seungcheol was against him knowing, he knew that Jeonghan would find out one way or another. 

“We’ve been friends for so long Hannie, this is just an added bonus.” You tell him, although a small part of you knows you’re convincing yourself more than anyone.

“Good afternoon to you all.” A cheerful voice interrupts your conversation. Soonyoung walks towards your table with a cheeky smile on his face. Minghao trails behind him, looking exhausted. 

“Ah so the tiger finally is out of his den huh?” Jeonghan chuckles, referring to Hoshi’s weekend long recovery after the halloween party. The three of them took time out of their saturday nursing Hoshi back to health. 

“Well what can I say? You can’t keep me tame for long.” He practically growls. Minghao side-eyes him, the look of disgust and worry painted all over his face. 

“...Ok! So what were you two whispering about?” Minghao asks, wanting to stray as far away from the tiger discourse as fast as possible. 

“It wasn’t anything important. Well would you look at the time! Jeonghan we gotta go or we’ll be late to our class.” You try to avoid the conversation, the guilt start to boil in your stomach. 

Of course you wanted let Minghao and Soonyoung know what’s going on, but it’s just not a good idea. Especially after having a mutual agreement with Seungcheol not to tell anyone, other than Jeonghan. The more people know, the more blown out of proportion things could get. 

“Well thats my queue, see you two love birds later!” Jeonghan waves at the two frenemies, knowing it would piss Hao off. 

“Hey! Yoon Jeonghan come back here!” You can hear Minghao yelling from across the room as you tug Jeonghan along. The only thing he does is throw his head back laughing, while Soonyoung looks around cluelessly. 

IX. 

“So what should our research proposal be?” Wonwoo asks, looking at you for ideas. 

After entering class the professor allowed time for partners to start brainstorming for the midterm project. With everything that has happened during the weekend you hardly had time to think about school again. You actively recall the events in your head, thinking about the way Seungcheol towered over you. The thought of it all causing your cheeks to heat. 

“Y/n? You still there?” Wonwoo calls out for you, waving his hand in front of your face. 

Your eyes go wide, and you shake your head slightly, waking up from your self induced trance. Wonwoo on the other hand looked confused. 

“Yeah I was just thinking about something.” you mumble, your cheeks blushing even further. The fact that you were thinking about fucking Seungcheol while you were trying to work on a project made you feel bad for Wonwoo. Clearly you weren’t focused on the task at hand, which was more important than your mid-day fantasies. 

“Oh ok. Anyways what do you think about doing child development and growing up with pets?” Wonwoo looks for your reaction, trying to gage whether you thought it was a good idea or not. 

Internally, Wonwoo became curious on what has taken up half of your attention. He finds you interesting to say the least, and pretty. He doesn’t know why it took him so long to realize how fun you are to be around, but a part of him wants to get to know you more. The other part conflicted, knowing that all your friends believe that you and Seungcheol are meant to be. Yet he can’t help but wonder if he could be the one to make you fall instead of Cheol. 

“That actually sounds really interesting! I'm down to do that.” You smile at him, thankful he’s a good partner, and not someone who just makes you do all the work. 

“Perfect. Honestly I’m glad I have you as a partner Y/n. You’re a lot better than the ones I’ve had in the past.” He confesses, putting a hand on your shoulder, his warm smile causing you to blush hard. 

You glance over at his hand, before looking up at him once more. Wonwoo is an attractive man, you can admit that much. The time you spend with him is enjoyable to say the least, but to you he’s like any other guy friend you have. Seungcheol being the one exception, who has been on your mind since you’ve met him. A man who’s been able to woo you since you were kids, in the most silent and gentle ways too. 

You leave your train of thought to answer Wonwoo once more. 

“Y-yeah same! We’ve had the same friends but for some reason we were never that close. Maybe we can change that.” You return his friendly affection. At least that’s what it seems like to you, friendly affection. 

“I’d like that a lot actually. I'm sure you’d be better company than the boys, or at least cleaner.” He laughs. You laugh along with him, not really thinking much of his words. 

…

Seungcheol was annoyed, he watches the way you and Wonwoo are laughing together. The blood in his veins already starting to curdle and boil. Who does Wonwoo think he is? His habit of wanting to be around you at all times kicks in once more. 

Cheol is aware of his possessive tendencies, but he doesn’t ever admit about them out loud. It wouldn’t be fair to speak on your actions when you aren’t dating him romantically. Although he convinces himself he’s only your best friend, he can’t help but refuse to push aside his jealousy of seeing Wonwoo spend time with you when it should be him instead. 

“You know Wonwoo isn’t going to spontaneously combust the longer you look at him. You’re going to have to try a different tactic.” Jeonghan mutters beside him, trying not to laugh at Seungcheol. 

“I dont know what you’re talking about.” Seungcheol crosses his arms, pouting, looking like a cranky child who didn’t get his way. He knows Jeonghan is right but he can’t help but try to blow up the whole lecture hall in his mind. 

“Oh please, cut the act Cheollie. We both know you’re jealous of them. Wonwoo isn’t even doing anything and Y/n seems to already be falling for his charms.”

“Jeonghan whatever you have planned I don’t want to be apart of it.” Seungcheol quips, but he can still see the mischievous grin begin to form on Jeonghan’s face within his peripheral vision. 

“What plan?” Jeonghan gasps, putting his hand over his chest, feigning an insulted expression. Trying to keep up the act, as if  Cheol didn’t have him all figured out. 

…

“Thanks for today Wonwoo!” You beam at him, sitting up from your desk to collect your things. He smiles back at you, the crescent shape of his eyes emphasizing. 

“Maybe next time we can go to a cafe for our next study session?” He suggests, looking at you for a sign of approval. 

“Yeah that sounds like fun actually!” You agreed, feeling happy that you’re partner is actually wanting to put in the work for once. “Anyways, I gotta go meet up with Cheol, see you soon!” 

“See you Y/n.” He smiles at you politely, like always, and you find it quite endearing. 

You wave him one last goodbye before finishing up packing your things, and putting your laptop in your bag. 

“Y/nie!” Jeonghan calls out for you, standing by the door with Seungcheol.

You turn around and spot them, waving at them with excitement. Focusing more on your best friend than the person who called your name. His blond hair flowed, the tight polo shirt hugging his large biceps. You drooled inwardly, trying not to get caught practically eye-fucking him. 

He catches you staring at him, smirking at you as you continue to get closer. Pulling you in by the waist he hugs you. This caught you off guard, Cheol was never one for affection in public. Even as friends, it’s always been within privacy, unless there was some type of special occasion. 

“Always wearing a tight little skirt for me aren’t you princess?” He whispers in your ear, causing you to blush. 

 Oh. His voice is low enough that you’re the only one that can hear him. So this is why he hugged you? Because of the outfit you have on? You really hadn’t thought much of it, the skirt didn’t seem short in your own opinion, but you became flustered knowing it was turning him on. 

“Y/n and I gotta do something, see you later Jeonghan.” Seungcheol dismisses him quickly, tugging you past the lecture doors without another word. 

You begin to follow him down the long corridors of your University, pushing past crowds of people as they all herd towards their next class. The opposition of the two of you moving in the other direction causing you to bump into each person you pass. A string of ‘‘excuse me’s’’ and “sorry’s” leaving your lips. The handsome and strong man pulling you by your waist doesn’t care who he bumps into, his mind only on one thing and one thing only. 

It happens all within a blink of an eye, and before you can become fully aware of what’s going on, you find yourself in an empty classroom. The door locks with a click behind you. 

“Did you enjoy your study session with Wonwoo?” Seungcheol inquires out of nowhere, feigning nonchalance. Just saying his name is starting to piss him off. Yes he sees Wonwoo as a friend, but he wants you to only see Wonwoo that way too. 

“It was normal…why?” you’re suspicious. Since when did he care about the fact that you’re partners with Wonwoo? You wonder to yourself, but he continues to try and close the distance between you two. 

“I could see the way he was looking at you, even though I was across the room.” He huffs, like a spoiled child who was told to share. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Cheol.” you sighed. “Sounds like you’re jealous.” 

Your heart skips a beat as you utter those words. If Seungcheol is jealous of Wonwoo what does that mean for the two of you? Does he wants you more than as someone to press into his mattress each night? You pondered it for a moment, but you’re highly doubtful of that being the case. It just can’t be, Seungcheol grew up as an only child, he probably just doesn’t like to share, you try to justify. 

“Jealous? Baby of course I’m jealous. I don’t like to share.” He scoffs, fuck not voicing out my jealousy, he thinks. It’s like you were reading his mind.  

He begins striding his way over to you till your back is pressed against the desk behind you. 

“It’s not like we were going to hook up, he’s my partner?” It was your turn to scoff at him, trying to ignore your pulse quickening as his face inches closer to yours. 

Seugncheol looks down at your lips, admiring how your teeth graze against them as you bite down. He likes that he has an effect on you, especially with knowing that he’s the only one who gets to see you like this. Just thinking about being the only one making you come causes the blood to flow down straight to his already hardening member. 

Placing his large hands on your hips, he tugs you closer to him. A gasp leaves your lips as you feel his hard on against your thigh. Your eyes staring up at him, admiring how he is towering over you, the stern look on his face causing warmth to pool at your core. You’ve always loved how much larger he is compared to you, his shoulders and arms enclosing you completely. 

“That better be all he is to you angel, this pussy is mine.” He mutters against your neck, trailing kisses on your delicate skin. As your eyes roll back, you whimper, relishing in the feeling of his lips and the tightness of his grip on your waist. 

He pulls you on to the desk, causing you to sit, your legs spread wide enough for him to slip in between. Caressing your exposed thighs, he can’t help but let out a groan as he feels the softness of your skin. Everything about you and your body made his head dizzy with lust, especially when you look at him so innocently with anticipation. You’re alway so eager for his next move. 

“I love how wet this pussy gets for me. Barely touched you and you’re already soaked” He mumbles, grazing a finger ahaisnt your underwear clad wetness. The feeling of his fingers make your knees weak, and he hasn’t even put them inside you. He continues to move his fingers against you while kissing you tenderly. After what happened at Jeonghan’s, Seugncheol has been dying to get his hands on you again, savouring the taste of your lips even more. 

The smack of your lips moving against his fill the quiet classroom. It was so eerily silent through out the room that you become paranoid that someone might catch you two. Knowing how much your reputation matters for your scholarship, you wonder what the reparations would be caught having sex in public. 

“Hmm Cheol.” You whine, but your legs spread further instead of shutting closed. “We’re at school, we can’t be doing this.” 

Your brain is fogged by his touch even as you try to think rationally. With every kiss and every stroke of his finger, your mind begins to slip into a state of pleasure. The outside world becoming a muted background as Seungcheol is pulled further into the forefront of your mind. 

“But look at you all needy. Would you rather I just leave you like this?” He practically purred into your ear, licking up the side of your neck as he sucks behind your ear. The hotness of his breath and the heat of his kisses makes you give in to him completely. 

Fuck it felt so dirty being here, but you can’t bring yourself to ask him to stop. 

“This pussy needs tending to doesn’t it baby?” He chides, his tone of voice causing to whine against him once more. You decide to let your morals go for just one moment, spreading your legs further, giving him full access to where you needed him most. 

Instead of staying anything more, he takes the opportunity to press his lips against yours once again. The urgency of the kiss causing you to moan against his mouth, feeling the way his tongue pushes past your lips, caressing your mouth with passion and vigour. 

His hand snaking their way down to your skirt, pulling off your lace underwear without any hesitation. You lift your hips to ease their removal, excited to feel his fingers fill you.

 As he pushes a finger in, you gasp into his mouth, the squelch of your wetness echoes within the walls of the classroom. His finger pumps your hot pussy, your core clenching and unclenching with each thrust of his hand. Seungcheol continues to add more fingers until he’s able to fit up to three comfortably. Your moans never ceasing for a single moment, the euphoria of his long digits massaging your soft spot causes your eyes to roll to the back of your head. 

“Want you.” You somehow were able to voice out, begging him for his length to fill you instead. 

“Be clear with your words princess. I’m already giving myself to you.” He plays dumb, continues you finger you as his thumb circles your clit. 

“I want you inside me please.” You let out another moan, the stimulation of him pumping his fingers into you, while rubbing your sensitive bud has your mind going blank. 

“I am inside you love.” He chuckles, enjoying you beg for him. His member straining against his jeans. Seungheol could continue this for hours, but he knows the moment you ask, he’ll be fucking you with his hard length instead. 

“Want your cock please Choelie” You whine louder, your hands making their way to unbuckle his belt. 

“Good girl, thats what I wanted to hear.” He mutters against your neck, finally moving his hands away from your body to remove his jeans. 

The absence of his fingers make you whine, but you’re quickly silenced by the feeling of his thick length pushing past your wet pussy lips. It makes you gasp and lean black slightly, your arms locked at the elbow as you try to support yourself. 

“S-so good.” You’re words practically imcomprehensable as Seugncheol pumps himself inside and out of you. His length leaving your warmth only to push back into you fully once more. Over and over till a creamy ring appears at the base of his cock. 

“Who’s pussy is this princess?” He asks you, his hand making its way to your neck, holding onto you tight, but only enough to make your head go fuzzy. 

“Mmph Yours!” You sputter, only able to think about the way his hardness is caressing against that one spot against you. He hits it once more and before you know it you’re coming all over his length. 

“Fuck you’re so tight angel.” He praises you, snapping his hips till he’s filling you with his hot white seed. 

“Ah Cheol.” You call out slaciously, your head falling against his shoulder, tired from how hard he fucked you. 

“You’re always so good for me aren’t you?” He kisses your cheek as he takes a tissue from your bag to clean you up. 

Too tired to respond you let him take care of you, it causes your pulse to beat against your veins hard. Hiding your face in his chest, he helps you get dressed after your classroom quickie. 

You jump off the desk, his hand wrapping around you to ensure you don’t fall. Knees wobbling slightly you hold onto him for support. One thing you can’t seem to get over is how caring he is after he’s pumped you full of his come. In a fucked up way it makes you fall for him further. 

“You ok to walk?” he cautioned, not wanting you to fall to the ground. You only nod and simply wrap a hand around his bicep, stablizing you. 

“I’m fine, but can we go home now?” You murmur, placing a kiss on his cheek as an unspoken thank you. 

“Of course.” 

X. 

After getting home from school and Seungcheol’s place, you decide to give Jeonghan a call. You didn’t know how to feel about what happened today, especially after Seugncheol had expressed his jealousy for Wonwoo. Maybe it really isn’t that deep, but the fact he acted so possessive made your stomach flutter, but also confused you even more. 

Jeonghan is the only person who knows what’s been happening, so you turn to him in your time of need. What you didn’t expect was from him to yell into your ear instead. 

“Why are you fucking in a classroom, are you insane?!” Jeonghan yells at you through the speaker of his phone. Your cheeks turning a bright pink at his words. 

“Ok I know it was a bad idea, but its fine we didn’t get caught!” you try to justify your actions, but you agree it is pretty insane to fuck in a classrom, especailly during school hours. It was like you were possessed in the heat of the moment, nothing could’ve stopped you from letting Cheol fuck you. 

“Y/n you can’t just be making bad decisonms because you’re ‘H’ word!” He scolds you, sounding like your mother for a second. You can’t help but giggle at the fact that he hates saying the word horny. Jeonghan once telling you someone like him should never say such an ugly word. 

You roll your eyes even though he can’t even see you. You’re phonecall with him quickly turning into a lecture because of how hard he’s scolding you right now. 

“Don’t you dare roll your eyes at me young lady.” He warns you, causing you to jump and look around your room. You know hes not here but somehow you’re spooked. 

“You can’t even see me so how would you know?” You bite back defensively even though you know hes right. 

“Becaue I know you! Oh my Y/nie one day this whole situation is going to bite you in the ass. You and Cheol should jsut be responsible adults and confess already.” He groans, he isn’t even the one in this predicament and yet hes the frustrated one. 

“Ok Han, you were literally on call with him the morning after your party. You heard him! He only sees me as a friend.” You counter, not wanting to have to remind yourself that your best friend doesn’t like you back. 

“Oh please Y/nie, we both know he was lying out of his ass.” 

“How would you know? He sounded pretty confident to me.” You mutter, absentmindedly playing with the drawstring on your shorts. The scene continues to replay in your head, he obviously doesn’t like me, you think. You can still recall the way your heart stopped beating for a millisecond as you heard him utter those words. 

“You two are impossible.” Jeonghan sighs, thinking hard. And with that, it was like a lightbulb went off in his head, with a large ding and everything. “Y/nie don’t hate me but I have an idea.” 

“Huh? What is it?” 

“What if you try and make him jealous.” He chuckles, it’s soft but there was an evil sound to it all.  

“Jeonghan whatever idea you have brewing in the scheming head of yours, I dont want to hear it.” You warn him, already not liking where this is going. The thought of seeing Seugncheol jealous is intriguing indeed, but what happens if you realize you don’t even have that effect on him? It would be so embarrassing. 

“You’ll never know what could happen unless you try!” He concludes in a sing-song tone, you can already invision the menacing look on his face. 

“Hannie it’s so highschool, I don’t think it’d be smart to do something like that.” 

“Ok but you’ll fuck him on campus grounds?” He rebuttals, shutting you up quickly. 

“I-” You couldn’t even defend yourself. 

“Night Y/nie! See you tomorrow.” The line goes dead, and you curse out at your blank phone screen. Leave it up to Yoon Jeonghan to put bad ideas into your head. 

XI.

The next day you sit with Wonwoo in a coffee shop that is only a few minutes away from campus.The city had gotten more chilly with each day that passed, and the cafe was a perfect meeting place to do your project. The warm atmosphere enveloped yout two into a perfect working rhythm. Your partnership with Wonwoo was a lot better than the previous ones you’ve had for classes, you agree to spend the majority of your time going over what to add to the presentation, as well as how it should be presented. Hours felt like minutes, and you two ended up finished earlier than you had anticipated. 

“I’m so surprised how quickly we got through everything! We even finished everything early,” you rejoiced, happy that Wonwoo is such a productive partner. 

“Honestly we make a really good team.” Wonwoo compliments you, giving you that same polite smile. You end up blushing, his eyes staring at you with so much kindness. 

“I agree, hopefully we get paired up more for the rest of the semester.” You giggle, shying away from his gaze. 

As you spent more time with Wonwoo, you realized how nice it was to be around him. He makes a good friend, and he’s definitely a lot more than just the quiet guy in the group. His personality more complex than what you had previously assumed, and it makes you wonder why you two weren’t really all that close in the first place. The two of you have the same friends, take the same classes, and enjoy the same things. So what was the one thing blocking you two from becoming closer? 

“Well that’s all for today. I can walk you home.” He clears up his things, ready to leave the serene environment of the cafe, throwing away his cup along with yours. 

“Oh no you don’t have to! Cheol is actually going to pick me up!” You tell him, seeing his black BMW sitting idle in front of the cafe already. 

“Sounds good. Let me walk you out at least.” He gestures to the door, allowing you to walk in front of him. He follows you suit till you’re in front of Seungcheol’s car. “It was fun, I’ll see you tomorrow. Same time?” 

“Yeah sure! I’ll be free.” You beam up at him, his frame towering over yours. 

The wind is blowing slightly, causing your hair to get in your face, whipping at your eyes. Wonwoo is quick to react, taking the strand and placing it softly behind your ear. The heat begins to crawl up your neck fast, making you realize how close you two are standing together. 

Wonwoo leans in a touch more to place a soft kiss on your cheek, and the blush on your face is definitely evident now. Before you can say more, hes walking away with one last good bye. Leaving you there standing with a shocked expression painted all over your face. Quickly you shake your head of what just happened before heading into Seungcheol’s car. 

“Were you two on a date?” His voice is stern, obviously pissed off at what he just witnessed. 

“...No just working on our project.” you say with a dazed look, watching Wonwoo's figure get smaller the farther he walks away. 

“Ok…but he kissed you on the cheek? I thought he was just your partner.” Cheol presses for answers, he really wasn’t impressed of having to witness such an intimate moment between you and Wonwoo. His blood curdling as the grip on his steering wheel tightens. The flesh on his knuckles turning a ghostly white.

“He is just my partner, I really don’t know why he did that.” You mutter as you try to recall all of the events that could’ve led up to this moment. It didn’t make sense to you, did Wonwoo have a crush on you or something? He’s never made any advances towards you before. So what changed that? 

“He obviously likes you. Do you like him back?” Seungcheol is too jealous for his own good. His pulse reaching new heights with how fast the blood was pumping through his veins. You can’t like Wonwoo, there’s just no way. Right?

“Well no. I see Wonwoo as a friend.” you admit, and the relief sped its way through Seungcheol’s body.

Although another side of him is wondering why it made him so angry to see Wonwoo act so flirtatious with you. He concludes that he just donesn’t like it when peoples are touching what’s his. Wonwoo’s his friend and you and Cheol are intimate with each other, it would just be weird for Wonwoo to try something with you too, at least that’s what Seungcheol says to himself as he tries to calm himself down. You’re his best friend, nothing more, he keeps repeating it in his head. And if you decide to break off the arrangement with him to date Wonwoo, then he can’t complain. 

“Oh. I see.” He mumbles as he starts the car again, taking the route to bring you back to your apartment. 

…

You and Seungcheol sit against your sofa watching a yet another ghibli movie. This time it is Kiki’s Delivery Service. Cuddled up in your blankets, your Friday movie marathon happening like clockwork at this point. Nothing can make you feel more content than feeling Seungcheol’s heartbeat as you watch your favourite movies with him. 

His breathing is steady as his arm holds you close to him, his attention focused on the moving flashing across your tv. On the other hand, you continue to stare at him, his strong brows and nose bridge has always been your favourite feature of his. You love how manly he appears, but you know on the inside he like a big ball of fluff, so warm and inviting. He just smelt like home, even though your real home is miles away, he’s a piece that you can carry around with you anywhere you go. 

As the movie continues to play in the background your attention is forced away from admiring your best friend and brought towards your phone. It lights up with a text notification from Wonwoo. 

Wonwoo: Hey Y/n. I know this is sudden but I’d really like to take you out sometime. Would that be ok with you? 

Your eyes practically pop out of their sockets as you read the text over and over again. It kind of makes sense that he’s asking you, especially with how he acted today. But what does this mean for the situation between you and Seungcheol? You decide to respond anyways, not wanting to flat out reject him over text. 

Y/n: uhhmm i’m not sure, can i have time to think about it? :) 

Wonwoo: Sure. Take your time. 

Beside you, Seungcheol sits with an arm wrapped around your shoulder. He knows he shouldn’t look at your texts but he can’t help himself. The moment he decides to, he begins to curse himself mentally, reading the text over and over again just like you. It pisses him off, seeing how forward Wonwoo is about his feelings towards you. 

He ultimately decides not to say anything the moment you reply to Wonwoo’s text, why did you even need to think about it? Shouldn’t you have said no if you don’t have feelings for Wonwoo?  His heart falling all the way down to the pit of his stomach. The familiar feeling of the tug on his heart coming back to haunt him once again. Instead of asking you, he decides to call in early for tonight.

“Hey angel I think i’m gonna head home early tonight.” He whispers to you, stroking the back of your head softly. The stinging behind his eyes doesn’t leave, he just can’t seem to get rid of it.  He looks at you with such tenderness, from an outside perspective someone would mistake his stare for utter and complete love. 

You look up from your phone, locking it before looking at him with a worried frown strewn across your lips. 

“Is everything ok? You’re not sick right?” you ask, placing a hand against his forehead to check his temperature. He shakes his head, taking your hand and placing it in his. His long fingers wrapping around yours, squeezing them reassuringly. 

“No no, i’m fine. Just gotta wake up early tomorrow.” He attempts to give you a convincing smile. You don’t know why the mood has changed all of a sudden but you begin to worry even more. 

“Cheolie is something wrong?” You press the issue, not wanting for him to leave just yet. 

“No nothing’s wrong. Trust me I’m ok.” He insists before getting up to to grab his jacket and leave. And just like the seasons passing through the city, he left with a swiftness you couldn’t seem to comprehend. The hurriedness of his movements leaving you dazed and confused.

The guilty pit at your stomach only seemed to grow the longer the silence filled your tiny apartment. Seungcheol’s once warm presence left a dent on the cushions beside you and a cold cup of tea on the coffee table. You frown at the now empty living space, as well as the empty hole in your heart, which can only be filled by the man who left without another word. 

XII. 

The snow began to fall in your city. It came unexpectedly, and left just the same. This winter being colder than most, you started to feel the seasonal depression coming on a lot faster than usual. 

Seungcheol left so abruptly that day, and with the midterm project you weren’t able to reach out to him since then. It felt weird because this is the first time in a long time you’ve gone without talking to him. The week dragging along as you head into midterm break, trying to think of what to say to him the moment you’re able to talk to him again. 

For some reason, ever since that night you have had a weird feeling in your stomach. Call it intuition but it felt like Seungcheol was avoiding you. Even though you weren’t able to reach out to him, he also didn’t try to do so either. The predicament you find yourself in causing your thought to stray as you study for the second round of midterm exams. 

You would see him often, in class, or eating with friends, but strangely enough he was gone before you could muck up the courage to approach him. The two of you stuck in an odd limbo that feels like it won’t end. 

During this time in previous years, it would be you and Seungcheol studying together in the library, but with your current situation you knew it wasn’t going to happen. So instead you sit with Jeonghan and Minghao, figuring out how to cram as much information as you can for the statistics final. 

“Y/n? You keep gazing out the window, is everything ok?” Minghao’s voice cuts off your thoughts. His eyesbrown knotted together in worry. 

“Huh? Oh yeah…everything’s ok.” You mumble, your eyes still looking out the window. The campus now coevered in a layer of snow, students walking around, bundled up in winter coats.

“You sure? You’ve been staring out there for almost fifteen minutes now.” He checks on you again. You can only muster up a sound of approval. 

Thankfully Minghao isn’t one to push to get an answer so he leaves it there. The sudden urge to pee overcomes you, causing you to walk over to the libraries bathroom. But before you could reach it, two people walk into the library, causing you to do a double take. 

The last person you expected to walk in is heading towards an empty table. Your heart beat stuck in your throat, the urge to use the bathroom is long gone. As you watch Seungcheol sit down with a girl, you feel the tears start to well. You were so confused as to why he has time to ask this random ass person to study with him, when he could’ve sent you a text instead. It made no sense to you, and with that, you leave the library without another thought. 

The tears falling down your cheeks with every step you took. Seeing him with another girl pulled hard at your heart strings, unsurfacing a feeling you thought you got rid of long ago. You continue to walk with your head down, just trying to think of a private space to let out your emotions. But before you could do so, you bump into something hard, which turns out to be a man’s chest. Looking up you realize it’s Wonwoo’s chest. 

“Y/n? You ok? Why are you crying?” Wonwoo speaks so fast, the worry spilling out of his mouth in words. His hand flying up to your face, wiping any tears that fall before they could roll down any further. 

“I-I don’t even know why i’m crying. This is so stupid my god, i’m sorry you have to see me this way,” you’re hicupping through your words. You begin to sob, and you feel wonwoo’s strong arms wrap around you, pulling you close. Giving you the comfort that you would usually receive from Seungcheol. 

Wonwoo’s large frame squeezes you in, giving you that secluded space that you were once searching for. 

Behind you is the frame of a man who is your usual safe space, your usual secluded corner. The one to help you deafen out the world from its ugliness and anger. He stands there watching you trade his comfort for Wonwoo’s. He’s never known what it’s like to be on the outside perspective and witness your hurt in this way. In the arms of another. With every moment passes as he watches Wonwoo comfort you instead, he feels his whole world crumble and fall at his feet. 

XIII.

⌗ 𓂃 flash back to seungcheol’s freshman year. 

“You talk a lot about this y/n person. Is she your girlfriend by chance?” Jeonghan asks Seungcheol. 

“No dumbass she’s my childhood bestfriend. I’ve known her for a long time.” Seungcheol tries to clarify his relationship with you, not wanting others to mistake you two for something more. 

“I dont know man, you only ever talk about Y/n.” Jeonghan shrugs before going back to his paper. 

Seungcheol thinks about Jeonghan’s words, ‘why is she always popping up in my conversations?’, he wondered to himself. He can’t help the fact that he talks about you so much, you’re all he knows after all. The only one to experience anything and everything with him. He can’t help but want everyone to know what an amazing person you are, and the fact thatt everything around him somehow reminds him of you. It was like an empidemic. You conquered all corners of his brain, always with him, but far enough for him to miss you all at the same time. 

“You know, it’s not a bad thing if you have feelings for her. She seems like a great girl.” Jeonghan pipes up after realizing how little work Seungcheol gotten done due to his rampant thoughts. 

“Yeah I guess if i did, it wouldn’t be a bad thing.” He mutters, attempting to focus on his work once again.

⌗ 𓂃 end of  flash back. 

XIV. 

For the majority of midterm break, you spent it cooped up within the confines of your room. Wrapping yourself in enough blankets to put a bear into hibernation. You’ve gone back and forth with your own thoughts. Calling yourself dramatic for crying over pretty much nothing, to crying again because you can’t just invalidate the pain you felt when you saw him with someone else, and you don’t even know what she is to him. Long story short, the over thinking is getting to you, but calling him up is the last thing you’re about to do. 

Although you’ve never really fully admitted or denied it, you know you’re love for Seungcheol goes beyond friendship. You’ve known for so long, and kept it to yourself for so long, and yet you’ve never known whether he felt the same way. His actions always contradicting his words. 

The cliché trope of the pain of falling for your best friend is as old as the bible. The story of the unrequited love you convince yourself you’ll never have reciprocated, and yet at the end of every story everything works out, the two friends turned lovers. The end. But what about you? What about the fact that this isn’t some story and you won’t be able to get ahold of your own cliché best friends to lovers ending. 

Before you could spiral even further a notification dings, your phone screen lighting up. 

Cheolie <3: im outside. 

Seeing the text makes your heart drop, but you can’t seem to stop yourself from climbing out of bed and opening the door to let him in. As you did so, you take a good look at his state. In fairness, he looked just as shitty as you did, if not worse. 

The eyebags accenuating how tired he looks, his cheeks slightly sunken in. Probably from lack of sleep, and not to mention the way his hair seems to stick up sporadically, you know immediately it’s because he keeps running his hands through it. 

“What are you doing here?” You cut to the chase, your heart already pounding out of your chest. 

“I-um. I’m not sure actually.” Seungcheol admits, his head falling as he stares at his feet nervously. You sigh, opening the door wider to let him through. 

He looks lost and not like his usual self, which makes you feel even worse, but what could you even do to help him? You two weren’t even mad, or had a fight, everything is just weird. So vague and hard to explain. All you knew is that you’re hurt and he’s at the root of it all. 

“I don’t have all day, Seungcheol.” You call him by his first name, and you can see how it pains him. The way his frown deepens with each moment you two stand there in the foyer, not exchanging the words you’re meant to say. 

“I’m sorry, I know we haven’t spoken in awhile and I just- fuck I dont even know man. I saw that text with Wonwoo and I just freaked out.” He puffs out, running his hand through his hair once more. 

“So thats why you’ve been acting weird? Because of Wonwoo?” The look on your face is unreliable and Seungcheol feels the knot in his throat begin to form. Your hand come to cross in front of your chest and you scoff. “Just because Wonwoo shows interest in me doens’t mean I have feelings for him.” 

“What? But you didn’t reject him?” He presses on the situation even further. 

“I just didn’t want to be an asshole and do it over text.” 

“Yeah right, I saw you two cuddled up last week!” He dejects, his arms flying around as he speaks. He doesn’t know why you decided right now is a good time to lie to him, but he knows what he saw that day. 

“As if you werent spending time with some girl instead of communicating to me what’s wrong in the first place? You’re unbelievable. I can’t read your mind Seungcheol, and why do you even care about what happens between me and Wonwoo? We’re just friends remember? Or do you only say that when you’re on the phone with Jeonghan?” You spat, the words on your tongue coming out as fireballs of hurt. Every single one hitting him right in the chest. 

“We are best friends. I can’t explain why I was so worked up, but if you were going to start dating him, you should’ve broken off what we had first.” Seungcheol attempts to defend himself, spewing out whatever he can to justify his acts of stupidity. He knows himself that what he’s saying wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you how in love he is with you. 

“Ok so because of that, you just get to do whatever the fuck you want then huh? The rules just don’t apply to Choi Seungcheol do they? It doens’t matter if I get hurt in the process of it all.” You sneer, the cold look on your face never faltering. 

“No Y/n, I know we made rules but you broke them first. I just copied your actions.” He replies, it makes you mad that he lashed out because of a misunderstanding. You feel fed up, too tired to talk to him or argue further. The tears already threatening to spill the more you look at him. 

You and Seungcheol never fought, you can’t even remember the last time it happened. It was probably when you two were still kids, fighting over something silly and not talking for an hour, only to make up the same day. This fight is different though, so many things said out of anger, you knew it wouldn’t just be forgotten the next day. 

“I really can’t stand you right now.” You say as a lone tear slips out, the salitness of it hitting your lips. 

“Then sit.” He bites back, his facade almost cracking as he sees your tearful expression. 

“Fuck you. Go home Seungcheol.” You walk to the door, opening it enough to allow him to exit your home. He doesn’t protest, his anger and sadness bubbling up faster with each second that passes. He’s smart enough to not let his temper overcome him completely. 

As the door closes on him, you let out an agonizing cry. Your sobs raking through your body as if the whole earth had crashed ontop of you. The echo of your cries filling the room, mocking you, reminding you of your loneliness. 

XV.

Seungcheol hasn’t been feeling well since the argument that went down a few days ago, but he can’t bring himself to contact you again. The anger and sadness he felt quickly dissipated into nothing but shame. He knows it’s his fault. Its his fault that he didn’t communicate with you properly, and the fact that he couldn’t bring himself to tell you he loves you. He doesn’t even know who he was trying to convince, but that argument with you made him realized so much about himself, you, and the friendship you two have. 

The constant sleepless nights were starting to catch up with him, the bags under his eyes more prominent than they were the last night he saw you. 

There are times he catches glimpses of you on campus and it pulls on his heartstrings, especailly because half the times he seen you, you’ve been with Wonwoo. It pains Seungcheol to know that you’ve been hanging out with him since the fight had gone down, but he has no right to stop you. After everything, he should be understand to let you do what you want freely. 

“Well don’t you look like shit.” Jeonghan interupts his train of thought, sitting beside him in the library. He takes out his notes and laptop, ready to work on their project for theri psychology class. 

“Wow thanks, I didn’t know.” Seungcheol grumbled, hating how cheerful Jeonghan looks in comparaison to his own gloomy expression. 

He takes out his tablet, pulling up their project. As much as he wants to ponder about you some more, he knows that he should probably focus on the rest of the project they need to complete. But everytime he tries to focus on anything other than you he ends up failing. 

“So what happened to you?” Jeonghan asks. He can tell something is wrong, both Seungcheol and Y/n have been looking so down in the dumps lately, and Y/n is flat out ignoring him, Soonyoung and Minghao. 

Seungcheol can’t even hold it in anymore, if there's anyone he can talk to about what happened, he knows it's Jeonghan. Despite their quarrelling, he finds Jeonghan to be a trustworthy person. 

Before he can even speak, he recalls your face, the tears that were about to spill, and the way your voice sounded when you two were fighting. He doesn't even recognize either of you from that day, it was just so out of character for the two of you to fight like that. And the only thing he can do is blame himself for everything that happened. 

Seungcheol feels his throat constrict, and his eyes start to sting. He hates that feeling, the feeling of crying and being vulnerable. In all four years of knowing Jeonghan he never thought he’d be crying in front of him. But once he asked that question it was like everything came crashing down upon him once more. All the memories of you, especially the ones from your fight make his heart ache so bad he has to clutch his chest. 

“Uh.. Y/n and I, we fought. It was a huge fight and it was really bad. I don’t know what to do and i’m so scared Han. I-I think I love her.” He confesses to Jeonghan, as the tears begin to slip down his cheeks. 

As he explains what happened that night, Jeonghan can’t help but feel sad with him. The way Seungcheol speaks about the events leading up to the fight and the fight itself makes his heart ache for the two of you. He also can’t help but mentally scold you two. He knew from the moment that Seungcheol and Y/n  decided to partake in becoming friends with benefits, that it would just blow up in flames in the end. They love each other too much to say what's really on their mind. So afraid to ruin their friendship that choosing to become friends with benefits did that for them instead. 

“Then let her know how you feel.. God Seungcheol, I’ve been telling this to the two of you for years now. You need to tell her, before it's too late.” Jeonghan is practically begging him, pulling Seungcheol into a much needed hug. 

…

You sit there, Wonwoo sitting beside you at the same cafe you two have been going to for the past week now. He always does the same thing, ordering your matcha latte and keep you company while you re-think your fight with Seungcheol. He can see that you’re hurting but he doesn’t ever overstep any boundaries you’ve set up. Instead he just sits there, waiting for you when you’re ready to talk to him. 

You called him after your fight with Seungcheol, not knowing who else to turn to. You know that Jeonghan would’ve been available but you weren’t ready for the lecture that he would’ve given you. Calling Wonwoo that one night turned into every night, and every night turned into daily trips to the cafe. He sits there, keeps you company, you thank him and he goes home. As much as he likes you, he realizes that you’re deeply in love with your best friend, even though you won’t directly tell him. 

Wonwoo knew something happened between you and Seungcheol, especially because of how red your eyes were that night you called him for the first time. As well as the fact that he caught glimpses of Seungcheol staring at you with so much longing during class, it even makes Wonwoo’s own heart ache. 

“We fought over you.” You finally speak up, not bothering to stare into Wonwoo’s eyes, instead opting to swirl your latte with your straw. 

“What? Why” He’s confused, why me? He asks himself. 

You finally look at him, letting out a bittersweet chuckle, you wish you kenw too. Seungcheol’s distaste for you becoming closer with his friend seemed uncalled for, especially because you’re under the impression that he has no romantic feelings for you. 

“Beats me.” You mutter. 

“I’m sorry Y/n, I should’ve never asked you out.” He says apologetically, the remorse filling his chest. He feels bad knowing he started this fight between the two of you, but he's also mad that Seungcheol just won’t admit his feelings for you. He just doesn’t  understand what was stopping him, especially since it’s so clear that you like him back. 

“It's not your fault.” 

“I know but you guys would’ve never have fought if it weren’t for me” He sighs, looking down at the his hands, picking at them. 

“No, I’m sorry that I even roped you into all of this. I should’ve just been a normal person and tell you everything right away. Instead I’ve been dragging you along because I feel lonely.” You sigh, the guilt of including Wonwoo in all this drama starts to eat away at you. 

“I want to be around Y/n, especially because you’ve been so down lately. I know you’re in love with Seungcheol, but I still want to be your friend. I hope that's ok?” He comforted you, putting a hand on top of yours. 

“I want to be your friend too. I’m really sorry about everything, and I’m grateful that you’ve been helping me. You don’t know how much this all means to me Wons.” You give him a small smile, the tears starting to running down your face as you glance up at him. 

You are so grateful that you and Wonwoo became so close in such a short amount of time. He is so kind to you, despite everything that’s happened. In another universe maybe you did fall for Wonwoo, and maybe you two were together and happy. But he’s not the one you’re in love with in this universe, and you’re thankful he understands that it’s strictly platonic between the two of you.

He pulls you in towards his chest, his arm wrapping around you. Staring at him, you can’t help but glance at his lips. You’re not sure what possessed you in that moment, but you feel yourself start to lean in with no rhyme or reason. Wonwoo does the same, he’s confused but he doesn’t stop himself or push you away.  Maybe if you just tried…

You’re so close that you can feel his breath fan of your face, and it’s like the realization hit you like a truck. Quickly, you pull yourself from his arms. You weren’t sure what happened but maybe his warmth and reasurring words were starting to get to you, but you’re glad you stopped before you could even make the mistake for kissing him. He isn’t the one you want, and he can’t do anything to change that. 

Wownoo can tell, he can tell that you don’t like him romantically, but the way you were closing in on him had him fooled just for one second. 

“I know, you’re in love with him. It’s ok Y/n, I understand.” He sighs, looking at you with longing eyes. 

“Yes I am.” You breathe out, before pulling away from him completely. 

XVI. 

“Y/nie open up! It's us.” A voice calls out from the outside of the door. 

Jeonghan, Minghao, and Soonyound standing outside of your apartment, hoping you’re still alive. After your fight with Cheol, you’ve been pretty much MIA from them. Not answering any of their calls or texts, so this is their last resort. Jeonghan knows why you haven’t been contacting any of them, but he decided it’s time that the two of you finally have a talk. 

His timing is a blessing and a curse, as he was the one to witness what happend the day you three went to study in the library. That’s when he knew that shit was starting to hit the fan. He’s concluded that hes had enough of the two of you being so closed off about your feelings towards eachother, and it was his time to help once more. 

You contemplated opening the door, but decided that you needed the comfort right now. 

“Y/nie! Are you ok?” Soonyoung comes running, tackling you into a bear hug. In this case, perhaps a tiger hug.  “Hannie told us everything.” 

He grabs your face, taking a closer look and inspecting your face, then making a conclusion before pulling you back into a hug. It warms your heart to see him so concerned about you, even after you’ve been ignoring them and only spending time with Wonwoo. 

You know you should’ve contacted them, but they can tell what’s wrong with just one look and you know you would’ve cried if you had to explain everything. As much as you love the three of them, it would’ve hurt your heart to recall what happened between you and Seungcheol. So you stayed quiet, opting for the solitude and comfort that Wonwoo offered. 

“Yes I’m ok. Dont worry your cute little head.” You say, patting his head as you savour his comforting hugs. 

“We were really worried about you kiddo. I’m glad to see you’re alive.” Minghao remarks as he squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. 

“Thanks Hao.” 

“Ok enough with the reunion. Y/n we need to talk to you.” Jeonghan interrupts the tender moment, a small box sitting in his hands. 

You arelady knew where this is going, but at this point you knew there was no way of getting out of this conversation. There is three of them and one of you. 

Jeonghan sits you on the couch, his stern face coming into your view. It reminded you of the times your mother would scold you when you were younger. His hands crossed over his chest, foot tapping impatiently. 

“Y/nie we love you but you really need to just come forth with your feelings about Seungcheol. The fact that you’ve kept it from him this long shows that it’s doing more harm to your friendship than good. I know you’re scared and I know you don’t want to get rejected, but you need to understand that if you don’t learn to tell him how you feel it’ll blow up in your face.” He sighs, coming down to sit next to you, his hand on your shoulder. 

“I know you don’t want to fuck up your friendship with him, but how else can you move on from this if you can’t even tell him how you truly feel?” Mingaho adds, giving you a soft frown. 

As you take in their words, you can’t help but feel the tears welling up again. Not just because your scared about the direction you and Cheol’s friendship is going to take, but also the fact that you’re thankful for friends who aren’t afraid to tell you the truth. 

“We love you ok? And what ever happens we’ll be there to help you. Every step of the way.” Soonyoung assures you, pulling you into a another hug. You laugh a little and hug him back tighter. 

“Thank you guys. I definitely needed that reality check.” you laugh as you wipe your tears. 

They laugh with you, embracing you and supporting you. 

“Anyways, theres something I want to show you.” Jeonghan says as he pulls back from the group embrace. 

He takes the small box from beside him, presenting it to you. As you open it you grow even more confused. It was filled with letters addressed to you. From Seungcheol. 

“What is this?” You look at Jeonghan, searching for an answer. He only shrugs. 

“I dont know. Seungcheol gave them to me. He told me he wanted you to read them” Jeonghan reveals, peering at the stack of letters in the box. “He’s sorry you know? He said the letters will explain the things he can’t say in person.” 

“Hes sorry? I-” you didn’t even know what to say, you were just scared of what all these letters could possibly hold. And why were there so many? 

“Anyways we’ll leave you to it. Text us when you and Cheol finally grow some balls and confess to each other!” Jeonghan and the two sidekicks bid you goodbye. Leaving you to scour through the letters on you own. 

There was one letter in particular that has a recent date written in the corner. 

Dear y/n, 

I know you don’t want to hear from me at the moment, and I know I’ve said some things I didn’t mean the last time we spoke. Im sorry. Im sorry I didn’t communicate properly with you, and that I left us in a vague and confusing position. I dont know what came over me. I was so used to the whole world just revolving around us two, and then when Wonwoo began to show interest, I just completely switched off. 

You deserve someone as kind as him. A person who will be there for you when you need someone to lean on, a person who’s willing to hold you till you can sleep peacefully. I was always that person for you for a long time, and if i'm not the one you want anymore i’ll come to terms with that. I just want to see you happy Y/n. In the same sense that I know you want me to be happy as well. 

There's not a day that goes by where I think about how thankful that I have someone like you in my life. You are my rock and sometimes you didn’t even know. The more you read these letters, the more you’ll start to realize how much you helped me. I know I would be able to survive without you, that I could do it even if it hurts me. But I don’t want to. I don’t want to live in a world where I’m living to survive, when I can be living to make you happy instead. My best friend, the one who understands me inside and out. Please come back to me angel. 

I love you and always yours, 

Seungcheol. 

As you read through the letter you couldn’t help but burst into tears. The relief you felt knowing that he felt the same way, that he wanted you in his life just like how you wanted him. This was enough for you to know that he needs you like you need him. 

You begin to sift through the countless of letters he wrote you, all of them as heart wrenching as the previous. It put into perspective all that he went through when he moved here all alone. And with each letter that you read, the harder it got to ignore to urge to just go and see him. So thats what you do. 

Dropping the letters on the coffee table, you slip on a pair a shoes and head to Seungcheol’s place as fast as your legs could carry you. The snow starting to stick to your hair as it fell from the sky, the chilly weather making you shiver. But you couldn’t stop yourself, you didn’t even care. You didn't have a coat on nor a warm pair of shoes, the only thing preserving your heat is the thought of finally confessing your love to Seungcheol. 

After ten minutes of speed walking, you find yourself in front of his door. You knock, nervously, your heart beating a hundred miles per hour. You aren’t really sure what to expect, but you knew that you just needed to see him. Even if you were shivering, even if your hair and clothes are damp from the snow. 

The door opens to reveal the man who you consider home. 

“Y/n? Holy shit you must be freezing come inside.” He ushers you in and you oblige happily. “Why did you come in your PJ’s? Are you crazy? You're gonna get sick.” He worries, grabbing your face, scolding you. 

“I needed to see you.” You pant, tired from how fast you walked. 

“Lets get you some warm clothes first.” He states, grabbing your hand to lead him to his room. Marching over to his drawer he grabs you a pair of sweats and one of his large tshirts. You’re completely engulfed in fabric but at least you’re warm. 

“Seungcheol I’m in love with you.” You tell him right before he goes to grab you a hot cup of tea. Better late than never, you thought.

He turns around, his eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Your neck turns red as the blush starts to creep its way up your cheeks. Seungcheol doesn’t say much more, his actions doing all the talking for him. 

Taking your face in his hands, he swallows you into a kiss. Pressing his lips against yours with the same amount of passion and vigour as the first night you kissed him. You whimper at the sudden affection, fisting his hair in your hands to ground you. 

He pulls way. “I’m so in love with you too Y/n.” 

He goes back to kissing you, his arms wrapping around your waist, holding on so tight that you’re convinced he thinks you’ll disappear into thin air if he didn’t hold you close. 

“I love you, I love you my angel.” He keeps repeating those three words. Three words that finally replaced the dreaded “you’re my bestfriend” statement. 

“You’re my best friend and I love you.” You whisper to him against his lips.

Epilogue. 

“Just keep watching the movie love.” Seungcheol warns you, his tongue playing  skillfully with your clit as you try to do what he says. Your legs are spread for him, your hips grinding against his face, it’s pure bliss. The pleasure Seungcheol gives you seems to work better than any drug that’s been created. 

You don’t know what happened, one moment you two were sitting on his couch, watching Howl’s Moving Castle for the millionth time. The next moment you’re watching your boyfriend kneel in front of you, eating you out while you try to concentrate on the movie playing on the tv.

“Seungcheol please…” You moan, his hair intertwined with your fingers as he continued to lick at your folds. You can hear how wet you are and it makes your head spin, the pleasure, the feeling of Cheols tongue grazing against you, it’s all too much. 

“You like this don’t you baby? You like it when your boyfriend eats you out on his couch?” He taunts you as he pumps two fingers into you now, wanting to see you the way your eyebrows scrunch from all the pleasure.  

You love the way he calls himself your boyfriend, the label rolling off his tongue perfectly. It was like he was meant to be called that all along. It’s only been a week since you two started dating officially but you’ll never get tired of hearing him tell you that he’s your boyfriend. 

“Yes! P-please I need you now, please baby.” You whine and beg as he teases you, his fingers still playing with your entrance. All you can do is watch him, your eyes lidded with so much desire that Seungcheol can probably come just from looking at you. 

He relinquishes his hold on you, getting up to sit on the couch before manhandling you into the position he wants you in. Placing  you on his lap, he takes off his sweats, revealing his hard member. You drool at the sight of it, ready to take him for all he’s worth. 

“Look at how hard you got me love.” He whispers to you, placing a kiss on your lips after. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you moan against his mouth. 

Without breaking away from him, you lift yourself up to align his length against the entrance of your needy cunt. Slowly but surely you lower yourself, causing you to gasp against Seungcheol’s lips, feeling him stretch you.

“How are you still so fucking tight.” He mutters to you, his hands breaching the hem of the large shirt that you’re wearing.  He fondles your breasts, pinching your nipples as you bounce yourself on his lap. Groaning at your actions, he lifts the shirt completely off your body, taking the opportunity to take one of your mounds and enclosing his lips around it. 

“Hmm so close baby.” You tell him, feeling your climax coming on. He groans as he continues to suck on your nipples, his hands snaking around to your ass to grope at the flesh. He grips you tight, forcing you up and down faster, releasing his mouth from your chest. 

Seungcheol’s head leans against the couch to admire how sexy you look riding his cock. He doesn’t let go of your ass, slapping it and groping it till you’ve fully orgasmed. 

“Fuck you’re so sexy.” He mutters, driving you into overstimulation as he fucks up into you, his own release closely following yours. You clench at his words, your pussy gripping him like a vice, and it finally sends him into his own orgasm, his come filling you completely. 

“I love you.” He says, giving you one last kiss before finding a wash cloth to clean you with. 

“I love you too.”

⌗ 𓂃 end.  

© wonustars

a/n: you've reached the end! i hoped you enjoyed the story, because i know i loved writing it :")). if you have any thoughts, questions, or just want to chat, dont be afraid to visit my ask box <;3 - anna

𖠗 𓂃 。˚ ⋆ taglist: @mysafehaneul @christinewithluv @soonyoonswoo @aaniag @iluvmingi @auniverseline @k07-1313 @idubutily @kmoon @leah-rose03 @ana-marais98 @xcynthiaaa @wonwoo24 @yelsuki @yuyunhoo @sana-is-ms-rmty @hwashiningstar @svt-reads @imprettyweird

[jewishvitya]

I remembered this essay from years ago when I was unlearning what I knew of Israel and zionism and I couldn't find it again, and now I see it in a Shaun video, with the source.

Ze'ev Jabotinsky, "The Iron Wall." I downloaded it from the Jabotinsky Institute.

These are the titles he gave this essay:

I said that Zionist leaders explicitly talked about Zionism as a colonialist movement. This is an example of what I was talking about.

Some quotes:

There can be no voluntary agreement between ourselves and the Palestine Arabs. Not now, nor in the prospective future. I say this with such conviction, not because I want to hurt the moderate Zionists. I do not believe that they will be hurt. Except for those who were born blind, they realised long ago that it is utterly impossible to obtain the voluntary consent of the Palestine Arabs for converting "Palestine" from an Arab country into a country with a Jewish majority.

My readers have a general idea of the history of colonisation in other countries. I suggest that they consider all the precedents with which they are acquainted, and see whether there is one solitary instance of any colonisation being carried on with the consent of the native population. There is no such precedent.

He's saying openly: no land was colonized with the consent of its indigenous population. So we have to do it without that consent.

Every native population in the world resists colonists as long as it has the slightest hope of being able to rid itself of the danger of being colonised.

That is what the Arabs in Palestine are doing, and what they will persist in doing as long as there remains a solitary spark of hope that they will be able to prevent the transformation of "Palestine" into the "Land of Israel."

He said that any zionist who depends on the Arab population accepting a Jewish state on their lands, might as well withdraw from zionism because that's impossible.

Zionist colonisation must either stop, or else proceed regardless of the native population. Which means that it can proceed and develop only under the protection of a power that is independent of the native population – behind an iron wall, which the native population cannot breach.

And then he says that this Iron Wall is the British Mandate and the Balfour Declaration - they're the power that stops Palestinians from resisting us.

He says that despite this, zionism is moral and just, so justice must be done, zionism must move forward. He just wants to be honest about what it takes. He wants to discourage talks of an agreement to avoid signaling to the British that they must try to reach one between us and Palestinians. Just stop them from fighting us, we'll colonize the place.

Zionism was openly colonialist until this language was no longer politically useful.

Editing because I was kinda shocked by the response this got, in several moments. When the slavery of US founders was brought up to dismiss this whole thing. When First Nations reservations were brought up on the same list as the United States as equivalent to Israel, because I said I oppose the existence of a country that prioritizes one ethnic group at the expense of others, and I support democracy that protects everyone equally.

But another thing that's still nagging at me is the idea that this whole essay can be dismissed based on semantic arguments, like sure this uses the word colonialism, but is it actually the colonialism that we talk about and oppose? And what if this word is only used to appeal to the British for support?

This isn't the the first time that prominent zionist thinkers talk about zionism as a colonialist movement. I saw it in old publications, things like magazines, I'd be posting them too if I found them again. I did my own deconstructing years ago, I don't remember where I found all my sources.

I do remember that they talked about the two concepts together - the idea that we're here to colonize, and that we're here to come home. So nowadays there's the arguement that people can't colonize their own homeland, but to them there was no contradiction. I saw it again looking at Herzl's diary last night.

I say I define colonialism through actions and tactics, through the harm that's done to the victims of colonization. Because if we knowingly repeated the actions of colonizers and used the help of an imperial force to conquer a land, having a historic connection to it shouldn't absolve us.

Jabotinsky didn't write to the British in this essay. He wrote to other zionists who wanted to aim for something more collaborative with Palestinian Arabs. And it's true that word choice can mean different things in the context of the time, but there's a reason I chose those quotes. What is he actually saying in this essay?

Consider colonization throughout history - the native population never agreed, so we must do the as colonizers did in the past.

Palestinians will never agree to a Jewish state - so we must do it by force. We should use an imperial force as an "iron wall" to prevent them from resisting. Stop talking about an agreement because then the British will try to reach one instead of holding them back and letting us do our thing.

He's comparing the zionist movement to other efforts of colonization, to talk about emulating them.

This isn't a game of semantics. I'm not just bringing this up just because he used the words.

What he's describing - conquest by force, preventing a Palestinian state, forcibly creating a Jewish majority - is what happened. And it's still what's happening.

This is the branch of zionism that went into practice and founded Israel.

[sundrop-writes]

Officially announcing my new series: Careful.

A limited multi-chapter series with Spencer Reid and Fem Reader, featuring angst, smut, and the trope of exes to lovers where Spencer finds out that he is a father four years after you have given birth to his child.

'When you and Spencer broke up, he tried to forget about you. He pushed all of those feelings for you down - until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being hunted by a man who kills single mothers.'

The series will be approximately 40k long in total (spread across six chapters) and will be posted every Friday, starting on March 8th, 2024, and continuing until ending on April 12th, 2024.

THE FIRST CHAPTER IS NOW POSTED!!!

(I am making a posting schedule, and I am gonna try really, really hard to stick to it this time guys.)

The series is already finished in my drafts - it just needs to be edited before posting. However, comments and encouragement are highly appreciated and welcomed throughout this process. The fic will not have a taglist (taglists are not something I do) - if you enjoy the concept or the preview below and you want to know when future chapters are coming out, then you will simply have to follow me here and turn on notifications for this blog, or you can find me on AO3 and subscribe to me there to get emails when this series and it's future chapters are posted.

Below is a short preview of the fic - so if you want to get a better sense of what the fic is about, click through and read it, and hopefully, you will enjoy.

Preview Word Count: 1,800

Warnings: typical Criminal Minds episode warnings; mentions of murder/killing; the reader character is being targeted by a killer and doesn't know it yet; the reader has a young child (a four year old son); the reader is a cis woman who uses she/her pronouns and a has a vagina; emotional angst between Spencer and the reader; the reader and Spencer had a romantic relationship around season 1/season 2 and this is meant to take place around season 6(ish) but you can picture any later version of Spencer you want; the reason that the reader and Spencer broke up is purposefully vague here but it will be fully revealed in the full story; the reader purposefully kept the pregnancy/Spencer's child away from him; Spencer didn't know he had a child out there in the world; there is some smut in this - unprotected penetration (a flashback to how the baby got here); possibly something that could be labelled as a breeding kink; making love/intense passionate sex; I believe that's in for this short part.

...

The team found themselves buried in paper, looking through the preschool applications for anyone who fit the UnSub’s victimology - praying that they would be able to pick out the next victim and get to her before the UnSub did. 

“We’re never gonna get through these fast enough, are we?” Prentiss sighed, continuing to sift through the papers. 

“We just have to go as fast as we can, and hope the UnSub sticks to his schedule.” Morgan replied. “He has to spend time stalking them, learning their routine. Even if he has chosen his victim by now, he won’t break into the home until he’s fully confident that he won’t be disrupted.” 

“And the stalking helps build up the fantasy.” Reid added on. “He romanticizes them from afar, sends them gifts. It adds to his delusions of grandeur and forbidden love. The idea that he’s swooping in to become the perfect father figure for these ‘broken’ families.” 

“Plus, most of these applications are from two-parent households.” JJ pointed out. “We can throw out anything with a second applicant on the form, because he’s only targeting single mothers.” 

The conversation was easily drowned out for Spencer when he saw it. 

It should have been just another page among the sea in his hands, but when he saw those words on the page - that name - it was like a punch to the gut that brought back a flood of memories he thought that he had locked away forever. 

It was you. 

What the hell were you doing applying for preschools? 

Spencer rushed to tear this paper out from the others in the stack in order to read it more carefully. 

You had a son. 

… 

When you answered the knock on your door, you were entirely lost for words, your mouth going numb from shock when you saw him. 

The last thing you were expecting was to find Spencer Reid on your doorstep. 

Your heart raced inside your chest, your body so overwhelmed so quickly that you couldn’t even decide on an emotion. 

Happiness. Joy. Lust. Longing. Sadness. Relief. 

Shock. 

You lingered on shock for a while as you stared at him, your eyes locked on the sight of him - wondering what the hell he was doing standing on your porch. How did he know where you lived? Why was he here? 

“Y/N,” 

He said your name in that honey-sweet way, and it brought you rocketing back to that awful night all those years ago. Your stomach dropped, and you felt like you were standing in that apartment all over again, tears in your eyes as you faced down the crashing reality that the best relationship you ever had in your life was over. 

This brought on a whole new wave of confusing emotions. 

Anger. Rage. Sadness. Bitterness. Regret. 

Like your brain was a spin-wheel, it whirled around for a few hectic moments, and then - you landed somewhere between anger and pure rage. 

And that was when you finally spoke. 

“Spencer Reid.” You hissed out his name like it was pure venom - immediately, Spencer’s features fell from looking at you with nostalgic fondness, and dropped out to fear. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

Spencer opened his mouth, seemingly to answer this question, and the rage pumped harder in your system. You found that you didn’t want to hear whatever it was that he had to say. 

You stepped through the door, easily stepping into his personal space as you came onto the porch, and you gave him a hard shove in the middle of his chest as you spoke your next words - much louder than you intended. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” 

You screeched, your emotions carrying your actions before any sense of logic or common decency could kick in. It was emotion that you had locked away four years ago - and apparently, it had been aging like wine, only becoming more potent with time. 

“You think that you can just magically show up in my life again after I specifically told you not to contact me?” You added on with a howl. “Do you think that order has a fucking expiration date on it?” 

You gave him another hard shove - perhaps expecting to prompt an answer out of him, or wanting to shove him off the porch entirely and get him out of your life once again. Which of those it was, you weren’t even sure. 

“You better have a good fucking reason for showing up here!” You screeched, your voice becoming so loud that it wore out your throat. 

“Look, Y/N, I-” He stuttered out. 

“Don’t say my name.” You hissed, cutting him off. “Don’t say my name like we’re friends.” 

You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest, and Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets, now finding himself utterly speechless. 

He definitely was not expecting this kind of reception. 

… 

You hadn’t taken the news that you were potentially being hunted by a serial killer very well. 

Although, strangely enough, that wasn’t even close to being the hot topic when JJ and Spencer got back in the car, watching you pull out of your driveway to attend to something you said was entirely urgent. 

“What the hell happened between the two of you?” JJ asked, the question finally unleashing from her lips. 

“It’s complicated.” Spencer huffed out in reply. 

…

Eventually - you did sit down and talk things out with Spencer, calmly. 

He had a lot of questions, and you tried your best to answer them. 

“Can I ask you one more thing?” Spencer asked when it came to the forefront of his mind. 

“Sure,” You sighed. “I think we have a few more minutes before you have to go.” 

“When did you find out that you were pregnant?” He asked. “Was it - was it before? Or after?” 

“After.” You told him. “It - it was about two weeks after. When I took one of those at home tests. And I had already made up my mind that I never wanted to see you again. So just - then and there, I decided that I was gonna raise the kid alone.” 

“So - so do you know when-?” Spencer began, and you cut him off. 

You already knew what he was going to say. 

‘Do you know when he was conceived?’ 

“No.” You rushed to say. 

But it was a lie. You knew. 

You felt like you couldn’t tell him the truth about this. If there was one thing you couldn’t afford to do right now, with Spencer Reid sitting at your kitchen table, staring at you with his big, inquisitive, glossy eyes, licking his lips, with his firm jaw set tight in contemplation - you couldn’t afford to go reminiscing with him about the night your son had been conceived. 

You had spent a lot of time during your pregnancy thinking. Doing the math. Trying to remember. 

And you knew exactly when. 

The night was so vivid in your mind. 

… 

He captured your lips in a smooth, knowing, passionate kiss - you didn’t hesitate to moan into his mouth, and Spencer echoed it right back. He had missed you so much during the day; even though he had seen you less than forty-eight hours before this, he felt decades of yearning in his heart. 

When he felt the bare head of his cock bump up against your entrance, smearing your wetness over him, he moaned even harder against your mouth. He pulled away from the kiss with a huff, moving his hand to your hip then as he asked a very important question. 

“Do you have a condom?” 

It broached the front of his mind, then, that he hadn’t brought one with him. 

“You don’t need one.” You breathed out in reply, combing your hand through his hair, raking your nails across his scalp in a way that made his hips unconsciously buck forward. 

When he felt more of that warm wetness smear across him, his cock just barely dipping into your heat - he didn’t entirely care to decipher the meaning behind your words. He simply trusted you. 

“Please, Spencer.” You begged quietly. “I need you. Just you.” 

(Later, when he was looking back on it, he would have guessed that you meant you were taking your oral birth control consistently. But looking back on it now - it was the only time within those last months of your relationship that the two of you didn’t use a condom. You were urging him on, and maybe, at the time - a baby truly was what you had in mind.) 

He wasn’t one to deny you anyway. And he certainly wasn’t going to deny himself of this. 

He reached down and used a hand around the base of his cock to help line himself up, and gently guided the length of his cock into you. 

This was always his favorite part. 

The gasp - the lilting moan you let out when his cock first slid into you, the way your thighs flexed around his hips - it was all so perfect. But it was even more perfect without the barrier of a condom in the way. 

It was perfect. It was so easy; it all came so naturally between the two of you. It was a perfect rhythm between your bodies that came from knowing each other so well, feeling so at ease with each other. 

It wasn’t just out of the visceral need to have him inside of you; it was the pure yearning to feel close to him, to have him as physically close as possible. 

With you, so tight and beautiful around him - he didn’t last. He couldn’t. 

“Y/N.” He warbled out your name, almost as a warning. 

“It’s okay.” You breathed back. “Cum for me. Come on, please.” 

Spencer couldn’t resist - not when you said ‘please’. 

The sound that came from his chest could only be described as a cry, and any fleeting thought he might have had about pulling out left his brain in a millisecond when he felt your tightness fluttering around him, his hips unconsciously fucking deep into you, his body loving the feeling of being held tightly there while your cunt milked him for all he was worth. 

He certainly didn’t miss the sweet moans you let out - the bright eyed awe you started up at him with as you felt his cum fill you up for the first time. 

… 

It was one of the last good memories you had with Spencer - one of the most perfect pictures you had of who he truly was before he came home from Georgia such a different person, and you had no clue why. 

Spencer could instantly see the lie in your body language - how closed off you became, how quickly you rushed to cut off his words. Along with the intense heat reflected in your eyes. You were thinking about that night. 

He thought he knew exactly which night you were thinking about, and he was going to call you out on it, make you admit in your own words how perfect that night was, even if the two of you were ruined now, a shadow of what you once were. 

But he was disrupted by the sound of his phone ringing.

[lucysarah-c]

Transactional

Summary: When you go to ask Captain Levi for a promotion, it's important to remain humble. Author note: I've had this idea for so long... this had been collecting dust in my computer for SO LONG. Because I wanted it to be hot and dirty like the underground's air but at the same time I was scared that it was a "bit" too much. That's it. In case I forget any warning or tag, feel free to remind me. Pairing: Levi x fem! reader. Warnings: Top Levi Ackerman, Dubious Consent, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Smut, MP reader, Levi x MP reader, Captain Levi Ackerma, Dirty talk, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Cigarrettes, Smoking, Alcohol, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Power Play, Oral sex, DUBCON, Bondage, Breathplay. Word count: 12k words of pure porn. You had been warned lmao HONESTLY, JUST BECAUSE I MANAGED TO EDIT this long ass post in the tumblr editor I DESERVE A LIKE AND A REBLOG (jk... but if you want its not a joke)

The agonizing rubatosis, mixed with the upsetting silence, creates a disconcerting atmosphere. Frowned eyebrows, eyes closed, cold feet rubbing over each other, and itchy underwear contribute to the discomfort. A deep breath in, count to 4, hold it for 7, and exhale slowly, counting to 8. Fists tighten, jaw clenches, and breathing becomes agitated.

‘Should I?’

Shea butter and vanilla penetrate her senses, smoothing legs that perfectly align, having been meticulously shaved. Not a single rough patch of skin, not a single hair, not a single cell left unmoistened. The hair conditioner matched the body lotion, nails painted a deep shade of red. Lips glide smoothly over each other thanks to the reddish gloss, creating a subtle plumping effect. The darkness enveloped her; hair spread on the pillow, eyelashes curved and painted a deep shade of black, with mascara perfectly in place. Blushed cheeks, radiant skin, softly glittering eyes, enhanced with brown pencil. Self-performed surgeon work, like an architect drawing up plans.

Reflective, slightly darker lips create the illusion of being kissed. Rosy cheeks mimic arousal. Uncomfortable underwear, but a perfect frame for her body. Subtly enhanced eyes for a pleasing view from the top. Everything is calculated, makeup that doesn’t look like makeup, intentionally tousled hair. She couldn’t recall the last time she put this much effort into her appearance for someone else. Usually, she dressed up for herself or her friends. A guy? Never, as far as she could remember.

All the to-do list’s lines had been checked except for one. The last item on her mental list was ‘Do you dare?’

Did she, though? Did she dare to slide her bare, smooth legs across the sheets, touch the cold floor, sneak through the corridors, slip inside through the creaked door, wait in the gloom with only one candle at the kitchen during late hours, hoping the collected info was real, and perhaps, only perhaps, see him appear through the door?

The place was ridiculously silent; she could hear her own feet against each other, her nervous tapping nails. Scouts followed rules, always doing what they were told, unlike the MPs. Even in the deep of night, you could hear everything—people making deals, cadets sneaking out, higher-ups taking cadets for personal parties. It was as if, the moment curfew started, another world began. Mixing that with the streets of the capital that never slept, the constant babble in the background. However, that wasn’t the scouts’ reality, and maybe that’s why she hated sleeping there so much. Somehow, she had gotten used to the sleepwalker city, and its ceaseless mutter became her lullaby.

After the retake of Wall Maria, after the coronation of the new queen Historia, life inside the walls changed drastically, especially in the military. New uniforms, universally appreciated in black, and the roles within the military became more ambiguous. MPs were still MPs, but they also contributed to the advances of new constructions, the displacement of new citizens to the reclaimed lands, and everyone learned how to use the new anti-person 3DMG.

Life was improving, or so many decided to believe. The scouts, almost eradicated after they took Wall Maria, saw an increase in their ranks. Transfers happened more than ever, and their salaries went from being the worst to the personal favourite military brand of the queen. Promotions were granted based on performance, sacrifice, and meritocracy—a notion she found irritatingly noble. Out of pettiness, boredom, or perhaps jealousy.

Extra-curricular activities? Even before she graduated from the trainee lines, she was in the top ten of her class, with excellent behaviour and military antecedents. Reports from citizens praised her attention and willingness to help. Double-checking almost everything. Therefore, explain why she had been rejected for a promotion so many times in the last years. The simple answer: anything in the MPs was about contacts and money, even as life inside the walls changed.

There was always an excuse—someone else deserved it better, a son of someone else got a spot that was rightfully hers, a green cadet got it simply because he was a man, and she clearly wasn’t. She wouldn’t lie and say that her desire to join the scouts had always been there. As a single daughter of a single mother, her wishes had always been to provide for her, to help her around. The day she could make her old mother stop working with her MP’s salary had been her happiest day.

Discussing it with her friend as they delivered provisions to the lines working on the train’s rails, not seeking help, but rather complaining in confidentiality. Concentrated so deeply in her venting that she didn’t notice how her friend remained quiet for a split second and then interrupted her with a cheerful smirk.

“Captain Levi just checked your ass.”

It caught her off guard, involuntarily making her want to check. “DON’T TURN!” her friend almost screamed. The idea felt bizarre, not because she wasn’t confident in her looks—she was hot as hell, and nobody could tell her otherwise. But… Captain Levi? From the Special Operation Squad? THE Captain Levi who had led the Uprising? Humanity’s Strongest Soldier? … That Captain Levi? Then, she gave it a second thought, slightly shaking her head.

“You must have imagined it,” she said.

“I SWEAR, you bent, and he checked you,”

“But… Captain Levi is?”

“Short?”

“No, you idiot. I mean yes, but not what I’m trying to say,” she corrected herself. “He just… I’ve never even heard about him with any girl, anyone to be more precise.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” her friend said, grabbing a box and starting to walk away, “but I know what I saw.”

Superiors and higher ranks checking her out, catcalling, perhaps even touching without permission? UFF, the military was full of them, even when she was much younger. However, Captain Levi could be an antisocial, stoic little jerk, but it had never struck her as those types of men. Always so uptight, correct, stoic, disinterested. There was a rumour circulating that perhaps… and only perhaps, he wasn’t particularly fond of women. A few female soldiers had tried to show their interest during military hangouts, and none of them had been successful. Considering military men’s pent-up frustration, that was very odd behaviour.

If there’s a rumour that spreads faster than what happens in someone’s sheets, it’s the lack of activity in those sheets. Captain Levi seemed to be on the other spectrum of the rumours. He definitely wasn’t a womanizer, and if he was one, what a smooth criminal he was. Not a single victim had been known.

“You know what would give you that promotion?” The administrative higher-up enlightened her after another unsuccessful raise in her salary. Her resentful eyes admired the boy, easily seven years younger than her, getting a spot because his father was a military member too. Her tired stare moved slowly back to her front, silently waiting for the pointless information to be given to her. A better cover letter? CV? Extra hours? Non-paid internships in other divisions? What?

“A recommendation from someone important.”

The red lips of the administrative staff moved slowly. If Y/N squinted a bit, she would have been able to hear the indirect suggestion. Between women, softly getting closer so the secretary could whisper without being heard. Glasses pushed down the nose bridge, and Y/N drew closer to hear the secret.

“You know, the scouts are making a big impact around here lately. Think about it.”

The words accumulate on her throat; her lips trembled, but nothing aside from indecipherable sounds left her mouth, frowning slightly at the idea.

“Think about it,” the woman repeated. “You won’t be the first girl, dear, and I guarantee you won’t be the last one.”

The wisdom that came with age and serving the military's paperwork for so many years must have given the woman enough knowledge to suggest it so plainly. What she hated the most? She had been considering it badly; she needed the money; she wanted the promotion. What was the difference between some stupid daddy's boy licking the boots of his higher-up for the position than this?

The boldest side of her mind insisted that she had slept with ex-boyfriends who were less attractive, less influential, and definitely less clean than Captain Levi. Yes, Captain Levi, because if she was doing this, she was going big or going home. Not some random newly promoted squad leader or anything. Those were the other options at the scout after they got almost eradicated—purely freshly adults. Her mind tried to convince herself of an easier target, like Jean perhaps, but she gagged at the idea. ‘He’s a baby, barely 18.’

For a split second, she wished Commander Erwin was alive. Never met him; she hadn’t even talked to him, but the blond seemed like an easier target somehow. Was it because people had talked about a chick or two that he took to his hotel’s room after parties? Maybe.

‘What’s the worst thing that could happen?’ pondering around the idea, like a friend encouraging you to confess to the boy you have a crush on. “You already got the no, go for the yes!” they would say, but this wasn’t silly girlish crushes.

‘That he says no and thinks of you as some cheap-ass whore.’

No, this wasn’t a crush. It was plain transactional.

‘Well… not like Captain Levi had ever looked over to me as if he had me in any sort of high esteem to begin with.’

Back to the beginning. They had ordered her to help around the Scout’s facilities as they developed the new train station around Paradise, and as soon as those orders had reached her ears, the plan was rolling. ‘Now… or never.’

Battle dress on: short loose shorts, a loose shirt that barely covered her belly, and her fanciest lingerie underneath. Captain Levi always made himself a cup of tea late at night to carry on with paperwork. Her military’s trajectory to secure the objective was: leave her bed, go there, and hope that her glossy lips and glittery eyes would do the trick. This was far from what she was used to, and what had boosted her confidence earlier that day to get ready had easily dripped away. Leaving her tied up to her bed as an external force that incapacitated her from doing it.

‘He’s not your higher-up; he can’t fire you directly.’

‘But what if he does?’

‘He’s probably small and will last a couple of minutes with luck; it’s easy as cake.’

‘What if he tells someone?’

‘You got nothing to lose and a lot to win.’

‘Everybody does something to scale in the MPs; no amount of extra work and good behaviours would get you anywhere. Think about what you could buy with that promotion.’

Tiptoes on the ground, a deep sigh, hands on the edge of the mattress pushing her up, calculated steps on the wood planks that didn’t squeak, palm against the edge of the door to close it without making a sound, single candle in her grip waiting for her to reach the kitchen to turn it on, non-existing hairs raising on her legs due to the coldness of the halls, curious eyes checking over her shoulder as she reached the kitchen, candle on, kettle on the fire, speech ready.

‘Now… are you going to show up, Captain?’

The flame of the candle flickered in the night air. She had heated the water multiple times, taking the kettle off the stove before it boiled, resting it on the countertop, and once it cooled, returning it to the fire. The script had been prepared, written, and practiced in her mind. However, the main participant in this story, her co-star, had not made his triumphant appearance.

First, she waited in a poised position, then faced the door while resting her weight on the countertops. After an hour and a half, the cold had crept up on her, fighting and winning against the burning heat of the nerves, leaving her shivering. Bent over the countertops with her eyes fixed on the kettle, she seemed disinterested, disappointed, and tired.

Her hand covered her mouth in a loud yawn. Once the anxiety had subsided, tiredness set in—slow blinks, head buried between her arms on the table, eyes still fixed on the kettle. It was right there, on the fire, still with time to boil. "You're going to burn the whole place down," a voice interrupted her thoughts.

That snapped her back from her reverie. It was evident that her mind had conjured a realistic dream because the kettle she was supposed to be watching had been removed from the fire, with a cloth covering the handle, and placed on the countertop, far from her reach to prevent burns. Steam billowed loudly from it, whistling in the stillness of the night.

Standing up, she froze in place, her mouth slightly agape as she tried to process what she was witnessing. The first few buttons of his grey shirt were undone, and he wore black trousers of the uniform, but no boots. Although his slippers didn't match the scene, his exhaustion was unmistakable. There he stood, as stoic and unfriendly as ever: Captain Levi, with rolled-up sleeves, removing the kettle from the fire and clicking his tongue as he turned off the gas.

Facing away from her, he seemed as indifferent as if she were just another countertop in the kitchen. Her nails softly scraped her arms as she pondered whether to press further, take the hint, or if she was simply cold, hence why she ran her hands up and down her arms. The muscles of his back contracted and moved, the V-shaped shadow down his spine emphasized his broad shoulders and defined waist. His rolled-up sleeves made her admire his porcelain skin, catching the light in particular shapes as some of his forearm hair shimmered under the candlelight.

While the slippers detracted slightly from the uniform, diminishing the powerful feeling, she had to admit, upon deeper thought, that the tight black trousers of his new uniform were incredibly appealing. Despite his short stature, Captain Levi was a fine specimen of a man. The subtle notion that perhaps scouts, with their heavy training, gather a couple of points from the MPs in that department. After all, MPs hardly bothered to train beyond the obligatory, which was very little.

Slightly turning to his right, locking eyes with her with an unapproachable demeanour, hand on hip, he questioned, "Dare to explain what you're doing breaking curfew, cadet? Do you want to jeopardize us all with your incompetence"

The first part of her plan was to improvise. ‘I couldn’t sleep,’ she thought about saying, but how could she claim that after sleeping over the countertop? His grey eyes, almost cat-like, hunted her in the dark, and suddenly, she felt her legs tremble. There was something inexplicably magnetic about him now that she had him up close, alone, in the middle of the night.

Her lips, still glossy, parted in doubt as she mumbled uneasily, "I…" She wanted to come up with a new excuse, but quickly realized she wasn’t cut out for this, for the whole charade. "I have a headache," she finally managed.

His face remained unreadable, uninterested eyes glued to her, judging her, waiting for her to break under his scrutiny, like a mother who knows you’re lying, allowing a brief moment of silence for a confession before taking matters into her own hands. But Y/N stayed resolute, gathering ambition from unknown sources.

Hand on hips, weight shifting from one leg to another, eyes quickly moving from her face to the countertop. "That won’t help," the words crossed the kitchen as if it were an open field of a hunting sport, piercing her heart but leaving her to crawl an agonizing death until her dying breath.

"Sorry?"

Eyes focusing again on the countertop. "Black tea," he said monosyllabically, as if each word cost him money. "That doesn’t help with headaches; you should get chamomile or peppermint."

"Ah," she replied, confused. Why was he clarifying that? What was the point of this conversation? Crossing legs as the cold crept in, but it quickly vanished as blood rushed to her cheeks.

Turning back around, facing the counter and gripping her own teacup. The recommendation was blatantly ignored; it seemed like a random fact thrown at her rather than something to take seriously, at least for her. About to carry on, she considered just faking preparing the tea and getting away from there.

Frozen in place, each hair on her body raised involuntarily. Not even his steps against the wood planks had been heard. ‘Oh.. Uhm-’ the natural process of breathing was totally forgotten. A strong, patronizing hand sneaking, almost creeping with confidence on her lower back, guiding her toward another cupboard.

He moved closer, getting an involuntary reaction out of her. Straightening up, chest pushing forward, lips parting, breath accelerating. He was so close, looking into her. Eyes locked onto hers over her shoulder, transparent pearls penetrating her soul. Nails sank into her palms as her teeth clenched. If he was so short, why did it feel so towering? Suddenly, the thought of owing him an apology for simply sharing the same air crossed her mind. Her nipples were noticeable through her loose shirt; he must be able to see it. As he grew closer, her idea was that all the subtle little hints must have worked.

Eyes closed, holding her breath, the air moving around her gave her the idea of movement. Holding out for nothing. Waiting for him to steal a kiss from her, perhaps grip her hips, pushing aside her loose short, turning her around, and fuck her roughly and mindlessly over the countertop. Getting what he wanted as if it were rightfully his.

“Here,” she opened her eyes. He was handing her a tea box where it read the same ingredients he had suggested.

“Thank you, sir,” her subtle smile tried to make up for her disappointment. Expectations were different; somehow, her best hopes were on him ogling at her, making it more impersonal and disinterested. Therefore, she could say that she walked up there, perhaps pleased him, and got what she came looking for. It was easier; easier it is to repeat like a broken record some silly washed-up quotes and nicknames that guys allegedly liked. ‘Yes, daddy’, ‘I’ll be a good girl Captain, I just do bad things with you,’ ‘Please, sir. I’m a good girl,’ or something in the department of ‘Ah- its so big, daddy,’ Get used and lose a little bit of dignity in exchange for something else.

Different it is, the tension building in her as she felt him looming over her frame, reminding her of just how insignificant she truly was compared to him. His hand resting lightly on the small of her back, guiding her movements. The coolness of his touch contrasting with the heat radiating off her body. Or the opposite, how cold and exposed she felt with her scant clothes and his cold hand didn’t help. A treacherous finger began to travel upwards, making each vertebra move and curve.

“Sir?” she hated how scared her voice sounded. Suddenly, as if it had escaped her mind, she remembered he was humanity’s strongest soldier. The soldier who went on the expedition to retake Wall Maria and essentially fought the most difficult titan shifter known until now, who led the Uprising. How many MPs did he kill there? How much stronger was he than her? Could she truly still walk away from this, or was her fate sealed?

“You’re stiff as a board; that’s giving you the headaches,” he commented casually as his right hand reached her shoulder and kneaded.

The action was absurdly overwhelming; she didn’t know her traps hurt this much until now but also how to react. Self-preservation mechanisms were out of the window; her lips pronounced what they had been dying to say since she left her bed. “It’s because of the promotion; it’s stressing me out.”

“I can help with that,”

Her worst fears and wildest dreams, all together in a sentence. Confirming what she came looking for but also the end of the speculations. Translucent eyes looked at him over her shoulder, expecting him to make the bolder move. She hated to admit how her heart skipped a beat, how his controlling hand on her neck made her want to arch her spine and gasp softly.

“With the headaches, I mean,” adrenaline had reached a peak and now tumbled down, leaving her devoid of thought other than disappointment mixed with relief. However, his tone, covered in a thin layer of entertainment, passed unaware to her at first.

Both hands on each trap, fingers sank in and then moved. Tearing her muscles apart from her bones, that’s how it felt. Handling, strong, overwhelming. Her breath stuck in her chest, and no matter how much she tried, she wobbled in her place. No amount of strength could help her remain still. Each tug that forced her to press slightly back against his chest, feeling the straps of the uniforms, made her sense weak, nervous. How his strong, calloused fingers felt divine, slightly too rough with the perfect amount of pain to make her forget for a minute but not entirely. Despite their roughness, his nails were perfectly short, making it impossible to experience any scratches.

The thought that perhaps there was another motive behind all this, beyond just getting a promotion, crossed her mind. It was the opportunity to experience how it would feel to be man-handled by the strongest soldier out there until she was left foolish. Her walls pressed together as excitement crept in, reminding her of how lonely and empty she felt. Wouldn’t a little love and something significant big feel extraordinary? The realization of how thin her shorts were and how much her body reacted to his touch filled her with shame.

Allowing him to treat her like some bitch in heat, shooting a load or two for a mere letter that said, "she’s good at what she does," as some cruel inner joke. It left her feeling worthless yet needy, a bad combination.

“Breathe, you’re tensing even more,” he murmured, and she could almost swear the smirk could be felt in his tone. The intentions were to breathe, to remain unaffected, but his movements felt powerfully triggering, and he seemed so unbothered by it. Any force he applied to almost tear her muscles into the correct position didn’t signify any real strength for him.

Each tug began to win little chopped breaths out of her as it was painful but also relaxing. She couldn't help but obey his command, forcing herself to take deep breaths to try and relax. But his touch, his presence, it was all so intense. Each movement of his hands felt deliberate, calculated, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. And she couldn't deny the tingling sensation that spread through her body at his touch, despite her best efforts to remain composed.

She struggled to follow his instructions, her breaths coming out in short, shallow gasps as his hands worked their magic on her tense muscles. Each touch sent shivers down her spine, igniting a strange mix of pleasure and discomfort within her. It was as if he could sense her vulnerability, her longing for something more than just a simple massage. Tug, thumbs pressing against her traps as they moved upwards, dragging her skin with them, chopped out breath as the pressure was too much before it withdrew slowly.

Then all over again, harsh. “Mhh ah-” it left her lips involuntarily as he touched a particular place. She gnawed her lip, holding back. His fingers weren’t particularly soft, not only because of the pressure he delivered but also rough with days and days of working, slightly calloused, rubbing in all the right places. Not again, she swore she was trying to remain composed, how he hadn’t heard her. “AH-” wincing as he moved up and contracted her neck, she feared for a second he would choke her.

His grip tightened, nails digging deeper into her flesh, pulling her downward. Thighs shaking, knees buckled, she fought to keep standing as her world spun. He knew her weakness; he exploited it without remorse. Every touch was a reminder of his dominance, every pull a testament to his power. She was helpless beneath him, unable to escape his grasp. Levi’s hands, humanity’s strongest hands—strong, angled, harsh, broad.

He chuckled.

He chuckled between pulls, his thumb rubbing circles on her sore spots, while his palm pressed harder against her neck.

Y/N froze in place as she felt him chuckle entertained behind her, almost mischievously. “Somebody is excited,” he calmly commented, but the smirk on his face was subtly evident in his tone. His voice was steady, despite the few sassy remarks, and it annoyed her to death. Like a cat playing with a moth until it's dead, they know they've won the game, so why rush it? Let's enjoy the hunt while she’s stripped of her dignity. “Nobody's given it to you in a while?”

Lips parted, feeling a mix of embarrassment and offense, she looked over her shoulder at Levi’s bleary eyes. “Excuse me?” she frowned deeply as she turned. She hadn't realized until then how close he was to her, practically breathing the same air. His stare penetrated her iris and seemed to read her soul, making her swallow uneasily. Her demanding tone quickly withdrew not only from her voice but also from her features. His silence subtly implied, but his presence demanded, ‘Come on, girl. You don’t reply to me like that if you know what's good for you.’ That’s what she got.

“A massage,” he said quietly, “nobody's given you a massage in a while?”

At this rate, she knew he knew. He was playing, dancing around the edge of pretending ignorance and seeing how far she would go. Standing, either summoning the courage to bring up the offer herself or walk out empty-handed. Waiting, like a mafia boss to see how much she would beg before setting her free, or crawling back to him, hoping for an opportunity.

There was an inner battle: either snap at him, reply, or descend all levels of self-love.

“It’s because you’re going too rough,” she said, mainly because she refused to be so quickly humiliated by a guy that short. Both looked at each other; her gaze moved slightly over his eyes, expecting any shift, something, but it was obvious that in a stare fight, he was going to win.

"Rough?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. “You’ve no idea what rough means.”

Her cockiness quickly withdrew. She wished she had some sassy comeback prepared or ready, but it wasn’t the case. Her teeth rolled along the edge of her bottom lip. It made her curious; either he liked to pretend he had more sexual history than was known, or she had bitten off more than she could chew. It stirred up a mix of curiosity, excitement, nervousness, and fear all at once. Imagining him fucking some unknown soldier rough, mindlessly, just for the sake of it. Scouts were so stressed, living quick, short lives.

Her eyes couldn’t help themselves, quickly dropping down to check. His thick, muscular legs, almost as if they had been forced to fit into the tight black trousers of the uniform. Losing its subtleness, the outline of his dick on one side of his left leg forced her to look back up. She finally turned around to face him again, but his stoic expression gave away little information, almost none.

“Perhaps you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, brat,” his voice began to sound like a distorted dream. She was waiting for some smooth approach or perhaps a fully humiliating one. The expectations were simpler: either he would like to pretend some love he endeared from her or behave like any disgusting dude at a bar, asking for a quickie in a bathroom cabinet. Neither of the two options was less humiliating. But this was different.

At this rate, the humiliation and initial thoughts were replaced by overwhelming curiosity. “How rough?” She felt her glossed lips stick together slightly as she murmured timidly, feeling her head heat up and her stomach tighten. Something intrinsically wrong must be with her, she believed.

With a second thought, she was sure that this would make her extremely ashamed.

“You’ll have to stick around to find out,” he warned, not a single centimetre of his features giving away any sort of intentions. Excitement or expectation, arousal or boredom, sweetness or creepiness. Grey gems looking back at her deadly, daring her to make deals with the devil or walk back home.

‘Go big or go home, didn’t I say that?’

“I want a recommendation,” she finally said it, thrilling anticipation coursing through her veins. This man, this beast, was about to unleash hell upon her body. Yet, she found herself oddly eager for it. Was it fear or excitement? Perhaps both. “and… in exchange, you can go as rough as you want.”

It felt absurdly dirty. Giving it a thought in the hole of self-hate, she concluded that perhaps she should have done this when she was younger, like her friends as cadets. When hormones and lack of experience made it hard to think it through, that receiving a good salary and free days to go out and party was worth letting any squad leader get a chance.

"Recommendation," he echoed, repeating her words as if testing them on his tongue. There was a moment of silence, as if weighing the pros and cons of such a proposition.

Finally, he nodded. "Very well."

Those two words held such weight, sending another wave of nerves through her. What had she gotten herself into? The room suddenly became hotter, thicker, suffocating. Her heart raced faster, pounding heavily in her ears.

Half-lidded, she moved closer, not entirely sure how this was done, if it was meant to start slow and soft for it to escalate. But she tried; she could take the lead in the kiss. But his hand stopped her face as he tilted backwards, completely breaking the moment.

“Who do you think I am?” Levi said, offended. And she feared for her life. Perhaps he just wanted to ascertain how much of an easy, cock-drunk slut she was to give him more reasons to find her worthless. But then, “Some green cadet who, for the sake of getting my cock wet, I would fuck you behind a horse at the stables? Or at the common kitchen?”

She didn’t know how to answer, but thankfully, Levi didn’t give her much time to talk. “My chambers.”

Feeling closer to a military order than a booty appointment, she slowly made her way to the door while he retreated to the counters, tidying up. Her feet dragged across the hall as she pushed open the door, her eyes constantly checking behind her. She couldn't shake the feeling that this might all be a joke.

Before she knew it, his hand urged her forward, pushing at the small of her back to guide her upstairs. "Come on, girly, we don’t have all night," he muttered.

It felt like a shameful march. They ascended the stairs in silence, each step echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet hallway. The stillness of the night only intensified her discomfort; she couldn't shake the feeling that someone might overhear them. Perhaps some night owl among the scouts would peek through a door, or worse, they might already know who slept where. The thought of having to make the same trip downstairs the next morning filled her with dread. As if she would walk out of that room with a paper stuck to her forehead that said, "I was Captain Levi’s slut for a night."

Led through the dim corridors of the base, they passed several closed doors marked 'Officer Quarters,' indicating where higher-ranking personnel resided. Finally, they reached what seemed to be his room. With a swift motion, he unlocked the door and gestured for her to enter first. ‘What a gentleman,’ she thought sarcastically.

As she stepped inside and took in her surroundings, she noticed the simplicity of his chamber. It lacked extravagance, with only functional furniture and tools of his trade. The room felt impersonal, as if he had never bothered to make it feel like home. His office area featured a desk cluttered with paperwork and a bookshelf filled with texts on military strategy and tactics.

To the left were two doors, presumably leading to his bedroom and an attached bathroom. Levi moved past her to search through the cabinets while she observed. Two glasses were already filled by the time he turned to her.

"A drink?" he offered.

She accepted, unable to suppress a subtle smile. Whatever she had anticipated for the night, this wasn't it. Chuckling, she teased, "Do you offer drinks to all the girls you bring over?"

Levi downed his drink and poured another. "No. But you seem nervous as fuck, and it’s making me uncomfortable."

She laughed softly, acknowledging the truth in his statement. "Thank you, then." The burn of alcohol sliding down her throat helped steady her nerves somewhat.

As they stood there, glasses in hand, tension hung thick between them. Hoping the alcohol would ease the tension, she shifted her attention elsewhere, but she could feel his eyes on her, assessing her. Swallowing, Addam's apple moving before he spoke, "Are you clean, right?"

His question caught her off guard, and she almost choked on her drink. "What?" she hummed, not fully comprehending.

Then, fear crept in quickly. "I am… I’m not doing it without protection," she clarified confidently.

His chuckle did little to ease her worry. "No shit, girly. I wasn’t stupid enough as a teen to not wrap it up. I'm not starting now," he replied. "The last thing I need in my life right now is getting a chick knocked up."

His words, despite their lack of warmth, reassured her. "I meant, is it safe for me to eat you out,"

Relief washed over her as she realized her misunderstanding. "Oh," she replied sheepishly. "Yes, you can." As his words sank in, she felt the blood rushing to her cheeks, lips pressing together before she took another sip and crossed her legs. 'Doesn’t he want a blowjob?' How many superiors offer you promotions in exchange for making you cum?

He nodded, finishing his drink in one gulp. His intense gaze never wavered from hers. "Good."

Slowly, he approached her, closing the distance until they were mere inches apart. She could smell the liquor on his breath, taste it on his lips. For a brief moment, she wondered if he expected her to initiate something, but before she could gather her thoughts, their lips met in a passionate kiss. His tongue explored her mouth, asserting dominance as his hands gripped her hips, pressing her against the door.

Pulling away slightly, he pinned her against the door, his hands roaming her body as he kissed her jawline. "Wait… let’s go to the room," she suggested, realizing he meant to fulfil his earlier request.

"No, you're too timid for riding my face. I want to be buried in your pussy right now," he insisted. The impact against the harsh wood surface and his lips reconnecting with her with necessity almost knocked her completely off her breath. Hands that had been kneading her shoulders only a few minutes ago were now digging into her hips, pushing them into his, possessive and demanding.

"Levi," she managed to croak out, her voice barely audible. The kiss was broken again, and her agitated breathing filled the gap between their faces. Surprised by his sudden aggression, she struggled to form coherent thoughts as he continued to devour her neck and shoulders. His hands roamed freely over her body, tracing along her curves and dipping beneath her top to cup her breasts roughly.

“It’s Captain Levi, for you,”

All her attempts to appear seductive were now the natural flush of her face, pumped lips of how they tried to suck each other’s air, the blood in her cheeks, the tossed hair. His hands grabbed the edge of her shorts and played with it. His words crossed the little space between their features with cockiness. “What are you wearing under this for me? Huh? What slutty little shit did you put on to wrap yourself up as if you’re my birthday present?”

A cheeky index finger ghostly touched her belly with its knuckle, making the fine hairs raise involuntarily before tugging on the fabric to sneak a peek. ‘Why doesn’t he just tell me to strip?’ But Captain Levi seemed to be like a cat; he liked to play with his prey until eating them completely, a cruel game. Eyes checked down and hummed in approval. “Black, classic. Not bad,” he said, but a part of his speech didn’t seem impressed. “But I prefer pink.”

Her mind insisted on giving it a second thought, that he didn’t strike her as those types of guys, but anything happening until then had proved to her that she had no idea who he was, what he liked, what type of man Captain Levi was.

Without further prompting, Levi dropped to his knees, positioning himself between her legs. His fingers trailed along the hem of her shorts, pausing briefly before dropping it. He took a moment to appreciate the sight before diving in, his nose brushing against the fabric.

Y/N sucked in a sharp breath as his warm breath tickled her sensitive flesh. Anticipation built within her, mixing with apprehension. It was unavoidable. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to focus solely on the sensations washing over her. A gasp left her lips as he grabbed her right leg and lifted it as if it was nothing and placed it over his shoulder. His calloused hand still lingering on it, gripping her thighs with strength and pleasure, enjoying gripping them as his nose pressed softly against her folds.

Levi's skilled fingers hooked beneath the elastic band of her panties, tugging them aside just enough. Once removed, he ran the pad of his thumb lightly over her swollen core. An involuntary moan escaped her lips. She trembled in a different kind of anxiousness; it was now plainly obvious. With a smirk, Levi leaned in closer, his nose barely grazing her sensitive flesh. "Do you like that, girly?" he whispered, his tone thick with lust. Her answer was evident in the way she trembled under his touch.

Gently, he blew cold air across her wetness, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. She couldn't help but arch her back, moaning softly as her grip tightened on the door behind her. Nails digging into the wood as terror set in. Slowly, he lowered his head, his tongue darting out to trace the outline of her folds.

Fear. No, he didn’t want a quickie at some public facility. No, he didn’t want some quick blowjob under his desk. No, he didn’t want any fast, easy solution. He wanted to savour each single centimetre of skin, torture all the cells, squeeze each second that he got to play with her as his little possession.

Each flick of his tongue sent shockwaves of sensation throughout her body, making her squirm. His expert hands found purchase on her thighs, holding her firmly in place. His tongue flicked out, teasing her entrance as his thumb kept doing slow little circles on top of her clit. Gripping his shoulders for balance and support. He slid his middle finger across her entrance, coating it with her arousal before dipping it inside. His thumb continued to tease her clit, stroking gently yet firmly.

Her moans grew louder, punctuated by soft whimpers as her head thumped against the door. Her breath agitated as his tongue slipped inside her. “Mh- Ah!” she felt her climax nearing, wondering with half-lidded eyes why he was being so pleasing. It was torture how he moved with perfect sync, but yet it was subtle. As if she let herself be dragged by the course, her body relaxing and twitching unintentionally as he held her in place.

Her back arched unintentionally, trying to follow him as he suddenly pulled back when she was about to reach her peak. “Captain-”

“That’s it, get all soft for me,” He murmured as he casually kissed the bottom of her belly. Before he went back, determined. It only took one, two, three flicks of his thumb directly over her bud to make her gasp loudly, press her raised leg against his head and feel how the other tensed and then struggle to keep her up. Her breath struggled to find a rhythm when all of a sudden, he took all of her in. Unapologetic tongue ran flat all over her fold before closing over the top so he started to suck and lick directly her clit as two unceremonious fingers were playing with her entrance before sinking in all the way.

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out as her nails scratched the door and she began to twist in position as if it was too much after her release.

“MH- Ah, no wait- AH!” a loud moan cut her complaints as his fingertips found a particular place and decided to assault it with no mercy, as his mouth kept playing directly over her clit. It was too much; she felt her leg shaking as much as she felt his fingers getting impossibly wet and slippery inside with no remorse anymore. They pushed against her walls, making her feel the tug of her own body before returning to press against that spot.

“No. No-hah!” She began convulsing against the wall, her head moving hectically to the side as she felt herself getting impossibly wet and electric waves coursing through her. “Please- No! Wait ah! No."

Palms pressed against the door, trying to push herself upwards, but he grabbed her shaking leg that was struggling to keep her up and positioned it over his shoulder with the other. The movement was so smoothly done; to him, it felt natural, but for her, it felt like a completely different situation. The strength with which he moved left her absurdly powerless; the tug felt so powerful as if she didn’t even notice the resistance she was exerting compared to his.

Then, he completely sat on his face. She felt everything—the contour of his face as her body rocked involuntarily, his fingers slipping in and out as his nose rubbed against her folds while his tongue licked clean her abused hole. “HM!” she gasped loudly, jerking upwards before falling completely over his head when the hand that was kneaded the meat of her thigh slapped her loudly.

She wanted to move, to slip away as she felt as if her bones were being drained, uncontrollable pleasure overtaking her. Her thighs pressed against his head as one of her hands moved downwards to tug his soft dark locks, obsessed, shivering as her mind kept shutting down.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she struggled against him, fighting against his strong grasp. "Please, Captain, I can't take it anymore!" she pleaded, her voice hoarse and desperate. “I’m fucking going to piss myself.”

With a smirk hidden from view, Levi held her in place, refusing to let her go. He knew exactly where she stood, only groaning pleasingly as he intensified his actions. His fingers thrust into her relentlessly, matching his rhythm with the flicks of his tongue. Levi could feel her hips buck violently, trying to escape his relentless assault, how she squirmed helplessly in his grasp. He was feasting on her with no remorse.

She cried out his name, unable to bear the intensity any longer. Her orgasm hit like a freight train, her body convulsing as she tried to pull away. But he wouldn't allow it, keeping her anchored to his mouth, shaking as he kept driving his tongue all over her. The feeling of being dripping was overshadowed by him drinking her in as if he was the thirstiest man alive, moaning against her folds as she could almost bet she felt his pleased smirk.

At some point, she couldn’t even hold her form against the door, twitching involuntarily. Levi reluctantly released her, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand. He stood up and picked her up, no buckling knees, no groan or scoff as he did; it was as if he was picking up a paper sheet from the desk. Weightless, powerless against his pull. Unceremoniously, he dropped her on the bed.

Jacket off shoulders, left at the back of a chair inside his room. Arness's upper part was pushed down so his hands could grip the edge of his grey shirt and push it over his head. Then, before she could process it, enjoying the soft cotton of the fabric against her body, marking a huge difference from the rough door, one of his knees sank on the mattress before he crawled to be between her legs.

Elbows on the bed, heels pushing upwards, her broken voice pleaded, “no, please. It’s enough,” as he kissed and nibbled the sweet part of her inner thighs before moving to her core again. “Ah!” she jerked again as he snapped the side of her leg again.

The tingling heat after the hit lingered on her as Levi rearranged her on the bed to his pleasure. “I think you’re not understanding your position,” he groaned, “I’ll say when it's enough; you just have to spread your legs for me to do what I please. That’s your fucking job now if you want your stupid letter, lay there and be a good pliant hole for me to fuck.”

Uncomfortable groans echoed in the room, interrupted by his own voice once again, “Did I make myself clear?”

“Yes…” she murmured but his haunting glance between his legs made her thought he heard her backwards softly. Passing down saliva, “Yes, sir.”

“This is your last warning,” he informed her, while his hands ran up and down her body, palm flat against the valley of her breasts, the touch was so soft but it felt subtly rough from the callouses of his hands, a permanent reminder this wasn’t supposed to feel as lovely as it momentarily did. “Did you hear me, girly? Or have I already fucked you dumb?”

“Yes, sir.”

Contorting uneasily as little whimpers left her lips between a mix of discomfort, pleasure, exhaustion, and pain. Pain because she could already feel his fingers sneaking in, three of them patiently spreading her for him and his restless mouth once again on work. It was too much, involuntarily her legs pushed against the mattress when he hit a particular place. Twisting as if she was possessed, fingers tugging from the sheets and her back arching as a natural reflex.

It was embarrassing how much she felt the wetness of her own mixed with his saliva sneaking through her ass cheeks down to the bed. Her legs felt weak but got a sudden burst of strength as he kept playing with a place that made her eyes roll back and tried to push her up. Levi held her in place, arm surrounding her thighs and arching her core to his face. Despite it all, her hole twitched with the necessity of more, demanding something even bigger as she felt her pinkie fingers going numb from the overpressure.

Knees buckled as he parted momentarily. “What a cute little slutty hole. You’re so tight; I will enjoy fucking it raw,” while she trembled in anticipation, Levi smirked as if he could already see everything he had planned in his mind. He softly pressed a finger on it only to see it clamp down onto it. “So fucking needy; when was the last time you got a good cock to fuck you back into your place?”

With a smirk, Levi withdrew his finger, replaced it with his mouth, and plunged inside, sucking her into his mouth. His finger teased against the back wall, exploring her depths before finding the spot that made her buck wildly. She mewled, her voice hoarse and filled with a hint of desperation. Her head thrashed from side to side, her nails digging into the sheets as she begged for mercy.

The following two orgasms were quick; Levi was getting eager to plow into her pussy with his dick now. His finger pried her open, and his tongue easily got in and swirled around. At this rate, she was just spread on the bed, twitching miserably, whimpering out of pleasure and the sweet pain it provided. “It’s so pretty when you cry,” he joked as little mewling sounds left her rose lips, and her eyes looked translucent with clamped-out eyelashes by the moisture. “Beg me more.”

Her eyes fluttered open, desperate and pleading. "Please, sir… just fuck me already," she begged. The intensity of her arousal was overwhelming; her body begged for release.

Levi got up to his knees, looking down at her and then between her legs, admiring his own creation with a smirk on his face. Fingers casually unbuckling his belt, letting it hang loosely around his hips as he undid the front button of his black uniform trousers and shamelessly patted the front of his engorged dick, feeling the outline of his erection through the fabric and hissing slightly as he finally got some relief from the pressure. As if he enjoyed forcing himself to enjoy every little bite from his meal, saving the best for last, testing his endurance of resisting to the last limit so each little inch that he plugged in of his dick finally in that slippery hot heaven felt like pure blessing. His left hand, which wasn’t touching himself, caressed her leg that forced to be up because she could no longer do it on his own.

“Ass up, girly,” he said. The command had been processed, but it was as if her body wasn’t replying to her mind. The only thing she could fully process was the movement of the mattress and how cold the bed felt as Levi abandoned it. Lazy steps against the wood planks that gave up little cracking sounds. Striding in front of his dresser, slightly bending, allowing her to have a good view of his ass as he dropped the trousers with the underwear all together and then quickly folded them and threw them over the surface, but he upheld something with his left hand from his clothes that she couldn’t perceive from the perspective of spying on him from her lazily open legs and half-lidded eyes. Fingers rummaged through a couple of things before he got what he had been looking for.

“It seems like I’ve to do fucking everything,” he complained, but there was no hint of actual anger in his voice, stoic as ever as he walked back to the bed with his hard dick on full display. Impossible erect and slightly dripping pre-cum from the tip that was a deep shade of red compared to the rest of his pale body, it involuntarily twitched as if it was happy of being finally free. She bit her bottom lip as she delighted herself with the view before doing a little eye contact; it was a good size, way more than she anticipated. Underneath it his heavy balls and on top a nice happy trail that resembled a signal that indicated anything under his belly button and chiseled abs was also a happy surprise.

Her eyes quickly fell to his left hand, and she noticed the belt from the 3DMG gear. While the reason why he may have kept that was rather obvious, the possibility escaped her rationality. “Wait- You’re not using that-“

“I said.” He just gripped the sides of her hips and flipped her over, “Ass up.”

Knees sank on the bed, “MHMP-“ her complaints were muffled by the bed as avoiding her full upper body falling completely into the mattress was difficult as he gripped her arms.

“I told you, it was your last warning,” Levi said as the belt tied up against her wrists, knotting up safely. Her face buried in the sheets by the pressure of her own weight, “I’ll teach you discipline, little shit.”

Hands massaging her ass cheeks, fingers sinking in the meat as his own knees against her legs forced more space. “HMP!” muffled complaint as swiftly one hand impacted on her ass, heat spreading through the skin and turning it red as the sound echoed in the dead of night. His hand followed, leaving a mark on her ass. The heat traveled through her skin, and she could feel her pussy drenching with need. She whimpered, trying to squirm against the belt, but he held her in place. Another and another, each time made her jerk forward slightly as her breath held in her chest and then puffed out.

“Please…” she whispered as her head turned to a side, resting her cheek on the mattress. “I’ll behave, please.”

Levi hummed, but his hand didn’t leave her ass, caressing the hurt zone softly. “Don’t you think we should make it even?”

The next swat landed on her other cheek, making her eyes water and her body jerk. "Please!" she cried out, her voice hoarse and desperate. Her whole body tensed, every nerve ending screaming in anticipation and desire.

Levi grunted, "Ah. You’re such a crying baby. As all MPs," he growled, rubbing the red splotches with his calloused hand. "You're so wet, begging for my dick. You better be grateful you're getting it."

“Ah-!” she gasped loudly as he slapped her ass again. The grip on her hair pushed her head up, and despite the tug and the strength of the grip, the relief of fresh air filling her lungs finally clouded her mind. His breath impacted on her face from the side as he held her, watching how her mouth hung open, panting softly.

“Thank me for showing you your place,” Levi demanded.

“Thank you, sir,” she whispered, forcing herself to look at him from the side. Locking her pleading eyes with his demanding stare. “Thank you for reminding me of my place, sir.”

Levi hummed satisfied, his fingers weaving into her hair again. "That's my girl," he growled, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. “Good girl,” he repeated before placing a kiss on her shoulder blades that were working extra hard by having her hands tied back. He released her hair, gave her ass one last swat, and then positioned himself behind her. She whimpered one last time, face resting on the side as she observed him opening up the foil of the condom carefully and then the subtle hiss as he rolled it down his dick. One hand lazily jerked himself as another reached for her folds and casually ran up and down his thumb through them, spreading the slick evenly.

“You should be riding my cock until I got tired of keeping it wet and warm, yet here I am,” Levi complained as if he wasn’t the one taking each and every decision while shamelessly gripping her tied-up hands from the back to position himself. “Fucking you silly and doing all the shitty job; maybe I should get that promotion,”

‘As if this wasn’t what you wanted.’

But she decided to carry on with the performance, either out of self-preservation, arousal, or the feeling of the cold-wrapped head of his cock running up and down her folds, applying soft pressure at her entrance before withdrawing, had already made her mad. “Thank you, sir.”

The angle of her body, the arch of her back, his hand on her hip, and his subtle hum of approval. Her mouth hung open, and the gasp was fully cushioned by the bed, struggling against her binds. Despite her assumptions, Levi sank in slowly and patiently, despite slipping inside effortlessly.

“Ah- Fuck,” he scoffed out, gritting his teeth as his head fell backward slightly, forcing himself to savor the moment but not completely lose it, gasping slightly. Withdrawing only a bit before thrusting back in, testing the waters. He took a moment to adjust, breathing heavily through his nose, and then began to thrust slowly. Each movement was met with a soft whine from the girl. But the soft, almost loving pace lasted the split of a second, a brief moment of calmness before the storm.

She should have known, at this rate, the second one of his hands abandoned her hip to grip the belt around her tied-back hands and used it as leverage. The tug from the resistance, the forced into place, and one deep thrust that knocked the air out of her lungs. Withdrawing almost all the way, almost only the tip left in before he used her own hands as a grip to push all the way in.

"God damn," he cursed under his breath, pushing in deeper. “You’re so tight,” he muttered, a pleased growl escaping his throat. Meanwhile, she would swear she was trying to breathe more, but the sheets stuck to her face and covered her nose. She tried to cry a little bit less loud because despite her features being buried down, the loud muffled moans each time he plunged all the way in mixed with the loud slapping of the bed frame against the wall must have woken up someone somehow.

“MH-HMP!” Her dignity told her not to sob of how good it feels, how deep it hits, how it felt as if he was trying to break her in half, conserve some dignity, but tears ran down her face of how perfectly synced he set the rhythm, how the friction of her parted knees against the sheets was starting to burn, but it was the perfect mix of how his cock’s head hit that place so brutally sweet.

“Fucking shit, what a pretty view on all fours,” he grunted, his voice sounding less controlled. The lust creeping in as his free thumb pushed his ass cheeks apart, locking his eyes on the way his cock disappeared into the slippery mess of her abused hole at that rate. “Ah-“ Levi let out a subtle moan as if the view was too much to handle, as the sweat glistened on her skin. The only way to not get completely lost in it was to spark it again.

“NH-AH!” she cried out as her legs trembled and her lips gasped for air.

“Best ass inside the walls,” Levi groaned. “And it’s all mine to fuck raw.”

Each thrust, each pull out, and then the deep push - Levi grunted, his own breathing ragged. He gripped the belt, pulling her hands slightly, making her hiss as the pressure against her skin was starting to leave obvious marks. Marks that joined all the rest of them, the still fresh, almost pulsating red handprints on each of her ass cheeks, the shameless bites he left on her shoulder blades each time he bent over to it.

His pace quickened, and so did her tears. She was soaked, her toes curled, and her body shook with each hit. She was a mess, a crying, whiny mess, and yet she was enjoying it, her core clenching around his cock with every movement. Levi growled, and his thrusts became harder, faster, more forceful. A relentless groan escaped him as he slammed into her harder, the friction of her wet core against his shaft nearly driving him insane. His grip on the belt tightened, and he pulled her hands back even further, making her body arch even more. The sound of leather against her skin echoed through the room, the scent of her arousal mingling with the smell of the clean room.

She was close, so close, but Levi stopped suddenly, and she wanted to scream out in frustration, to put an end to this sweet torture. Her knees hurt, her arms hurt, her pussy throbbed with need and abuse when he pulled out of her. No time to think as his pale, sweaty hand appeared from the top, grabbing the pillow and then turning her around forcefully from her shoulder.

“I want to see that fucking pretty face of yours while I fuck you,” Despite the darkness of the night, the room felt like it lighted up for her now with her face finally on display. Pillow under her hips, both legs over his shoulders, and without a minute to spare, he thrust all the way in.

“AH!” her moan echoed in the room as the angle felt too much, her toes curled impossibly, and her legs shook. “Ah- Ah- MHA! Captain-“ Top of her body twisted as her head rolled to the side, tears running down her cheeks, and the restless attention of him on her face was humbling.

“SHHH, quiet, little shit ah-“ He whispered. Sweat dripped from his forehead and from the tips of his dark locks, but he ignored it. “You want the entire fucking scouts to hear you?”

The bed creaked loudly, their bodies merging into one, like an animalistic dance. He gripped her legs more tightly, pushing in and out, setting up a pace that seemed to put both of them into a trance. Few messy soppy kisses to her legs as he had them within reach. Y/N bit her bottom lip trying to suppress her moans, leaving restless whimpers and cries of pleasure “Ah ah ah- hmmm,”. She tried but couldn't contain the sounds, but his dick was hitting her cervix as if that was his glorious duty; he folded her as if squeezing her legs against her bouncing tits was somehow helping her not to feel how his dick filled each corner of her. No, it did not help.

“Stop, stop, stop, almost, fuck-” she begged, pressing her legs against his head and trying to control her body from shaking.

Levi laughed roughly, a sound filled with victory and lust. “Want more? Want me to ruin you completely?”

“AH! YES-!” a loud moan as her back arched, head thrown backwards, and eyelids flickering of how good it felt. Nothing that felt like this, as someone pushed her down on the bed, slamming his cock into her, should be healthy, she concluded. “Quiet,” Levi warned, his voice hoarse. He loved how she clenched around his cock, how her pussy milked him with her orgasm. Frowning deeply as the feeling of her clamping down on his dick was too much to handle, a soft, quiet little moan left his gritted teeth. His abs contorted and his white knuckle grip on the sheets made his arm veins pop up.

“Please, Captain, Ah!” Why bother, the sound of the bed should be enough of a clue for the rest. And what if someone thought she was Captain Levi’s slut? What if she opened her legs wide and steady for him to fuck her restlessly? Who cared? Not her, definitely not her, as the only remaining feeling aside from the scorching heat of the pleasure waves around her body was the tingling sensation of her numbed arms and feet.

“Shut the fuck up,” he insisted, looking down at her. His hand around her neck, two fingers pushed down her parted lips. “I fucking told you to keep quiet.”

“NHG!” She choked on them as Levi kept them there while he lost his rhythm, thrusting into her restlessly and messily.

Her eyes watered up, staring into his as she struggled to breathe. The sweaty, panting man fucking her hard and fast, with an unapologetic expression on his face. She attempted to shake her head, but he wouldn't let her go.

"Shhh," he muttered, panting mouth as sweat ran down his face. "Just let me finish this."

Each thrust seemed to drive him closer to the edge. The friction between his dick and her pussy grew more intense, sending waves of pleasure through him. He couldn't care less about being quiet anymore - he just wanted to come, and he wanted her to see him do it.

"You're gonna cum with me," Levi growled, his voice ragged. "Look at me."

Her eyes locked onto his, filled with a mixture of fear and desire. Levi's eyes bore into hers, making her shiver with each thrust. She let out a soft whimper, unable to deny him anything anymore. The pleasure was too overwhelming to resist.

"That's right," he praised, his grip on her throat tightening slightly. "Cum with me, you little slut." His thrusts grew more desperate, each one driving him closer to the edge. He needed to come, needed to release the tension building up inside him, and she was his outlet. Her pussy clenched around him, milking his cock with every twitch, and he couldn't hold back any longer. Tears ran down her eyes into her ears as so did the saliva around his digits drool down her chin, pleading eyes looking into his begging for him to put this to an end.

“MHM-Hmp,” soft humming whimpers that were wordless pleadings of him letting her finally cum.

"You want it?" Levi snarled, thrusting into her harder. "Fuck, you're so damn tight. You love this, don't you?"

Levi couldn't resist anymore, the sight of her tear-filled eyes and pleading look pushed him over the edge. He growled, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he felt his orgasm approaching. He grinned down at her, his grip on her throat tightening slightly. “Fuck- Aren’t you pretty?” he murmured against her face, almost smiling out of satisfaction.

Both panting in the microspace of the closeness of their faces, breathing each other's ragged puffs of air. Their noses thrusting into each other sometimes as he slammed into her the final times, feeling the wave of pleasure wash over him. Frowned closed eyes, as mewled moans mixed together. Her pussy gripped him tightly, milking him like a vice, and he knew she was cumming too. His eyes met hers, her face a mask of pleasure and pain, and he couldn't help but smirk.

"Not bad," he breathed out, collapsing on top of her. He tried to catch his breath once, twice before he rolled to his side. Finally withdrawing from her slowly and laying flat on his bed next to her. One knee up, arm over his chest, and the other behind his head as a makeshift pillow as his lost eyes glued to the ceiling.

The room was silent except for their heavy breaths, the sweat dripping off their bodies mixing together. His chest raised up and down still erratic as both of them slowly blinked. Y/N lay there, panting heavily, her hands still bound behind her back. She could feel the sweat from Levi's body on her, where their skin touched. Her legs were shaking, and her pussy was still throbbing from the intense experience they just had. Her eyes met his, and she couldn't help but smile weakly.

His body twitched from time to time from the stimulation; her body felt like jelly. Completely boneless. She closed her eyes, trying to catch her breath. But as the cold began to creep in, she contorted uneasily and cleared her throat timidly. “Could you…ehm-“

Levi didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stared at the ceiling, still catching his breath. After a few moments, as he came out of his lethargic state, he finally spoke. “Oh yeah.” His fingers began to undo the knot around her wrists. “There.” Y/N rubbed her hands, feeling the blood returning to them. Her eyes focused on the deep red lines and bruises around them, and she grimaced uneasily. Her heart still pounded in her chest, and she couldn't help but glance at Levi. He shifted, sitting up and rolling off the used condom before tossing it into the bin close to the nightstand.

He stood up slightly to pick something up from his nightstand and also to push the blanket closer that was at the bottom of the bed. She tugged a bit from the sheets to cover her body as the moment slightly washed away, and nudity felt obscene and unnecessary. Levi let the blanket crumple around his hips as he turned on a cigarette.

"You good?" Levi asked, taking a puff from it and leaving the cage back on the nightstand. He looked at her, examining her bruised hands and the red marks from the ropes. A small frown appeared on his face, but he quickly hid it.

Y/N nodded, biting her lip. The marks on her wrists stung, but she didn't want to complain. She slowly sat up, trying to regulate her breathing. The room was still filled with a mix of their sweat and the scent of their passion. Her eyes caught on his lips, more precisely the cigarette. They were rather new now that they discovered the world outside the walls.

Levi looked back at her, at her silence, and casually took a last puff from it before placing it in her lips. “There, have it,” he offered. “You know how it works, right?”

She placed both fingers around it and smoked patiently as she hummed and nodded in approval. Somehow, that made him scoff entertained. “Of course you do, MPs always get used to luxuries rather quickly.”

As the smoke left her lips, she returned it. Y/N hesitated, still rubbing her wrists. She couldn't help but wonder if she should be honest. "Ehm—" she pondered around how to approach the topic, her voice shaky. "Was that… good enough? For the promotion?”

Levi glanced at her from the corner of his eye as she smoked the cigarette. The smoke swirled around them, marking the end of their intimate moment. He took the cigarette back and flicked the ash away, taking another drag.

"Good enough?" he repeated, a smirk forming on his lips. "Was it?"

She grew nervous as he asked back, not sure what to reply. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, glancing up at him. "I gave you what you wanted?" She asked, her voice soft but curious. She couldn't help but feel a bit vulnerable, lying there with him after their intimate encounter.

He chuckled softly, his gaze returning to the ceiling.

Levi sighed, extinguishing the cigarette in an ashtray. He leaned back against the headboard, crossing his arms. “You want advice for next time?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Let the other person make an offer first, girly. I asked for your support at the camp so I had an excuse to give you a recommendation; I’ve already heard about your struggle from one of your friends. I had the stupid letter written before you even set foot inside this building."

He paused for a moment, turning his head to look at her. The smirk never left his face.

"But since you offered yourself, I wasn’t going to say no.”

Y/N's face flushed red, feeling embarrassed and a bit betrayed. She bit her lip as she looked at Levi, trying to process what he had just said. Then she scoffed offended, pushing him by the shoulder a bit playfully but also with anger.

"So it was all for nothing," she exclaimed, disappointment evident in her voice and obviously irritated. Holding the crumpled sheets against her chest, “You’re an asshole!”

Her eyes closed in reflex as she noticed his hand moving closer to her face, wrinkling her nose and pushing backward in self-defense. But Levi’s index fingers only softly pushed her frown playfully, and he said, “And you’re too naïve for being an MP,” Levi snorted, rolling his eyes.

Levi watched her move, a small smile on his lips. He slid his legs off the bed, sitting on the edge; his body still feeling sore. To her surprise, he grabbed the blanket and threw it over her head playfully.

"You shouldn't have done that," Y/N muttered, her cheeks still flushed. She took the blanket off her head, which only made her hair even more tangled, glaring at him. "I thought you actually meant it."

Levi smirked, standing up and pulling on his pants. "You really thought I'd turn down an offer like that?" he asked, clearly amused. He reached for his shirt, still smirking at her.

"Get some sleep, I don’t use the bed anyways," he said, zipping up his pants. "But don’t get used to, this isn’t a hotel."

He crossed the door of his bedroom and closed it behind him as she mocked his reply and cursed under her breath.

Walking down the corridors, everybody running to be somewhere else. That’s what the capital is like, always a new pub to discover, always a better party to attend than the previous weekend. Hot and dirty like the vicious air of the underground that laid underneath their boots. Her friends made plans as they called out for the week, writing their names and working hours down on the cards at the front desk. Yellow paper flowed under the conflicted air of the reception office, names written down with different calligraphies and a restless pen swinging as it hung from a cord to the forms.

‘Volunteers,’ it read at the top. The last row was empty, but it was quickly filled out.

‘Squad leader: Y/N L/N’

One of her friends who was eagerly talking to the rest turned around and frowned, confused. “Why are you wasting your weekend volunteering for the Scouts,” she asked, frowning in disgust, “You’re already a squad leader, Y/N, don’t sell yourself short.”

Her fingers gracefully placed the pen back on the table as a smile raised on her features. Adjusting her purse around her shoulders, she casually said, “You know, it’s important to remain humble.”

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @i-literally-cant-with-this @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @kikarouflames @levisecretgfblog @searriously Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[the-anxious-youth]

Bubbles

Pairing: Buggy x gender neutral!Reader

Summary: While he's being held captive by the Straw Hats, Buggy won't shut up, which gives you an idea.

Warnings: none, this is all fluff, some mentions of insecurities from Buggy but nothing too angsty

Word Count: 4.2k

Author's note: This idea came to me while I was daydreaming the other day, and I just had to write it down. This is based off of the live-action Buggy, although I am only on the second episode so it may not be canon-accurate. Also, he has long hair in this cause I said so (begging to see Jeff Ward with long hair next season). Hope y'all enjoy and let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! There will be a part 2, don’t worry <3 (The banners are from cafekitsune)

Edit: part two is up!

“So now what?”

The collection of Luffy, Zoro, Usopp, Sanji, and yourself stood in a circle, discussing what to do with a certain clown pirate’s head. Usopp is the first to speak up after Luffy asked the question.

“Well, we can’t leave him unsupervised; who knows what he’d get up to.” Everyone turned to look at Buggy’s detached head, which wore a cheeky look, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“I vote Y/N to take care of it,” Zoro states blankly, crossing his arms as he speaks.

“Hey! I’m still a person, even without the body, so don’t refer to me as it!” The objection comes from the animated head, vexation seeping through his tone. Your mouth momentarily twitches upward at his little outburst, it was almost reminiscent of a kitten hissing after unwanted pets.

“Why do I have to babysit him?” You turn to Zoro, matching his apprehensive stance. He meets your gaze with a cold look. You hadn’t been a part of the straw hat crew for long, and Zoro was taking his sweet time warming up to you.

“Because you’re the newest here, and that’s how hierarchy works.” 

His tone left no room for argument. Your shoulders slump, and you let out an irritated sigh, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.

“Fine.” Rolling your eyes, you walk over to pick up Buggy, making sure to be gentle. The clown winks at you, a flirty smile on his face. You take him back to your cabin, not wanting to risk accidentally dropping him overboard. Despite only being a head, a smug aura radiates around him, already planning ways to mess with you. 

You reach your cabin and kick the door open with your foot. Being the newest member of the straw hat crew, you were given the smallest room, not that you really minded. You place Buggy down on your bed, moving to sit at the small desk in the corner of the room. 

“So what are we going to do first, darling?” Buggy smirks as he talks, clearly trying to get under your skin. 

“We? There is no we. You’ll sit there quietly while I go over these maps.” You bark, not even bothering to spare him a glance. 

“Aww, but where’s the fun in that?” You can hear the tease in his tone and can tell that he’s grinning without having to look at him.

“You’re not here to have fun. You’re being held captive, remember?” Smoothing your fingers out over the maps, you tilt your head, trying to focus.

“Yes, but who says captivity can’t be enjoyable?” His question shocks you, and you turn to gaze at him with an unamused look. Realizing that he’s completely serious, you let out a scoff.

“You really are crazy, clown.”

He smiles smugly, not bothered by your comment.

“It’s more fun that way.” 

You roll your eyes and turn back to the maps, choosing to pretend he’s not there. ‘He must really like the sound of his own voice’, you think to yourself. The clown continues to talk your ear off, but after a while, you’re able to tune him out. Before long, you’ve analyzed all the maps. Turning back to him with a curious look, you realize he’s gotten to the end of some story you couldn’t care to listen to.

“And that’s why you don’t fall asleep on the beach.” Buggy smiles at you, enjoying your annoyance, watching you tilt your head at him.

“Cat got your tongue?” He purrs. Rolling your eyes, an idea pops into your head. 

“Hey… I think I know how to get you to be quiet.” A sly smirk crawls its way across your face, and the clown’s chipper mood falters.

“Oh yeah? What might that be?” He tries to keep his confident demeanor, but the look on your face scares him.

You nibble on your bottom lip without responding before walking over to him and picking him up. This immediately wipes the smirk off his face, and he looks up at you, suddenly concerned for his safety. 

“Hey now, what are you doing?” He asks nervously, secretly afraid you’ll throw him overboard for talking so much. You place him on top of your desk and move to grab the empty basin in the corner of the room.

“I’m giving you a bath,” you shrug nonchalantly, a cheeky smile on your face. He pales at that and laughs nervously. 

“Wait, what do you mean? Are you going to waterboard me or something?” The look on the clown shows that he thinks it’s a real possibility, which causes you to chuckle.

“No, I’m just going to give you a bath; you smell like you could use one.” He just stares at you silently, quickly dropping his playful persona.

“What, cat got your tongue?” You mock him, and he gulps quietly. The fear in his eyes is quite amusing, you admit to yourself.

“You mean you’re literally going to bathe me?” A confused look crosses him, all the confidence in his voice gone.

“Yes.” You nod. “You look like you haven’t showered in weeks. Besides, now I’ll finally get some peace and quiet.” A smirk crawls across your visage, enjoying seeing the trickster squirm. It wasn’t often the clown had the tables turned on him, and he definitely didn’t expect it coming from you.

“Now, wait a minute, I can be quiet without that.” He looks up at you worriedly, the idea of a bath visibly rattling him.

“But I thought you wanted to have fun?” Your smirk widens and you put a hand on your hip.

“Okay, I take it back. I’ll be good, I swear.” A nervous laugh emerges as he tries to break the tension.

“Too late.” His face drops, triggering a small chuckle from you. 

“Oh, relax, will you? I’m technically doing you a favor.” This time, a genuine smile graces your face, which does nothing to calm his nerves. “Now stay.” You put your hand up as if you were talking to a canine, to which Buggy rolls his eyes, your other hand holding the metal basin.

“I’m not a dog,” he mutters softly, not having the courage to stand up to you entirely.

You leer at him, opening the door to leave before shutting it behind you. Sitting there quietly, Buggy questions how he even got here. Not before long, you return, the bucket full of warm water. You place it on the ground, grab the towel off your shoulder, fold it, and lay it on the bed. 

“You’re serious?” He says quietly, watching you semi-curiously, shocked that you weren’t kidding. You hum softly and nod your head.

“I am.” Looking up at him, you can see the fear on his features, and your eyes soften a bit. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

He eyes you suspiciously, not sure whether or not to believe your words. Grabbing a small pouch, you pull out a bar of soap and a small bottle, which Buggy assumes is shampoo. Lastly, you grab a small wooden board and place it over the center of the tub.

“So you don’t drown,” you utter, his question practically visible on his face. He nods slowly in response, having a hard time believing the situation.

“I’ll have to take this off,” you gesture to his bandana and he bows his head in agreement, deciding not to fight it as you seem pretty determined. Gently removing the striped cloth, you fold it nicely and place it on the other side of the desk. Secondly, you remove the hair tie that kept his bright blue mane in a ponytail. Buggy watches you silently, interested in your next move. Softly grabbing the sides of his head, you place him on the wooden board that lies across the center of the tub. 

“I’m going to wash your hair first, okay?” 

He nods in response, curious eyes never leaving your face. You grab a small cup and fill it with warm water, asking him to lean his head backward so it doesn’t get in his eyes. The clown does as you say, though instead of closing his eyes, he keeps them glued on you, not trusting that you won’t dunk him in the water. You gently pour the water over his hair, moving your other hand to shield his eyes as he seems to want to keep them open. The usually talkative clown stays silent, not wanting to admit to himself that the warm water feels quite pleasant.

“When was the last time you actually washed your hair?” 

He raises an eyebrow at your question, pondering it momentarily before replying.

“I, uh, I’m not sure.” A nervous chuckle escapes his lips, expecting you to laugh at him. Instead, you smile gently and continue pouring water onto his hair. 

“I can tell.” The words contain no malice as you utter them, merely expressing an observation. Seeing that his hair was now thoroughly damp, you grab the small bottle of shampoo, pouring some out into one hand. Rubbing your hands together to form some bubbles, you move to start massaging the soap onto Buggy’s head.

“Were you born with this?” You ask curiously, referring to the cerulean color of his tresses. He raises his eyebrow at you, not expecting the question.

“I was.” Nodding as he speaks, his eyes continue to analyze your face as if you were a puzzle he was trying to solve. You smile at him, continuing to lather the shampoo into his hair. 

“It’s pretty. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Your words are soft, making sure that his whole scalp is covered in suds. He scoffs at this, thinking that you’re making fun of him. Momentarily pausing your movements, you lower your gaze to meet his eyes, finding insecurity dancing through them.

“I’m being serious. I wish I had brightly colored hair, maybe purple or something. Guess I wasn’t so lucky.” Going back to massaging his scalp, he looks up at you, utterly flabbergasted. 

“You really think so?” He asks softly, timidity laced through his tone. You nod in response, a gentle smile on your face. Humming softly, the clown takes in the new information, wondering what else you think about him. He didn’t want to admit it, but the way your fingers carefully danced across his head felt incredible, not being able to remember the last time someone treated him so gently. 

Reasoning that his hair was thoroughly soapy, you dunk your hands in the warm water to get rid of the remaining suds and quickly dry them with a towel. Subsequently grabbing the cup, you fill it with water and begin to wash the shampoo out of his hair. He stares at you all the while as if he is trying to commit your face to memory. After all the soap is washed out, you squeeze the ends of his hair to rid it of any excess water and grab a towel to wrap around his head. Leaning back to get a good look at him, you smile, finding his curious expression cute.

“Now for the face,” you utter, moving to grab a fresh towel and the bar of soap. 

“Wait a second, you’re going to wash my face too?” asks Buggy, his timbre uneasy. You nod in response, replying in a steady tone.

“You’ve been wearing the makeup for so long that it’s partially gone.” Smiling at him softly, not expecting him to be so nervous. He laughs bitterly, not an ounce of humor in his voice.

“Can… can you just leave it?” His question is soft, and your surprise is visible on your face.

“You do know that leaving makeup on for too long is bad for your skin right?” You quip, trying to lighten his mood. Letting out a shaky breath, he shakes his head softly, and you can tell he doesn’t know what to say. Your smile drops, and you watch him for a moment, figuring out what to do next. His face paint seems to be a sensitive topic, and you don't want to push him too far.

“How about this,” you start, a kind smile returning to your face, “If you let me wash off this old makeup, I’ll redo it for you so it’s nice and fresh.” Sitting across from him calmly, you try to give off a safe and non-threatening aura to make him feel more comfortable around you. He stares at you for a moment, astonished that you would offer such a thing. You stay silent, patiently waiting for a response.

“You’d do that for me?” he asks after a moment, the surprise in his voice evident. You nod, making sure to maintain the soft smile on your face. “You’re in luck because I just got some new face paints.” Leaning over to open the drawer of your desk, you pull out a palette with every color of the rainbow on it and some clean brushes, holding them up so he could see. He tilts his head in response, trying to discern whether or not you were serious. After what feels like forever, he finally returns your smile and nods. 

“Deal. Can you make it match how it normally looks?” He looks up at you with a soft smile, secretly hoping that you’ll do a decent job. 

“Of course.” Grinning, you grab the towel and soap, excited that he’s letting you do this. You wet the soap bar, rubbing it between your hands to generate some bubbles, and gently start the wash the old makeup off his face. The clown continues to stare at you, though his energy is much more relaxed than before. 

“You’re really pretty,” he comments after a moment, causing your hands to falter. Feeling the heat rise to your face, you smile, taking a moment to meet his gaze. 

“You’re pretty too,” you mutter softly. Now that his face is mostly clean, you see a light blush begin to form on his cheeks.

“I’m nowhere near as pretty as you.” The confidence is back in his voice, and he winks at you flirtily. You can help breaking out into a smile, choosing not to say anything in response. He watches you quietly as you wash the soap off of his face. Unbeknownst to you, Buggy never let anyone see him without makeup, but something about you told him that he could trust you. He’d also be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy the view of your face being so close to his.

“Now for the fun part.” Grabbing the palette with one hand and a brush with another, you grin at him, excited to replicate his face paint. Truth be told, you loved doing makeup, but the only person who would let you do it was Luffy. There was one time Nami let you do hers, but it was after everyone else went to bed and she wiped it off immediately after. Your smile faltered at the thought of the orange-haired girl, and you remembered why Buggy was with your crew in the first place. The clown immediately noticed and looked up at you inquisitively.

“You okay?” He asks softly, already missing your smile. You nod and debate on telling him the truth, ultimately deciding that you should.

“I’m just thinking about Nami.” You force a smile back on your face, but Buggy can tell it’s not real. 

“That’s the girl Arlong took, right? Fiery personality with hair to match?” He asks, and the description of her causes a genuine smile to come across your face. You nod softly.

“That’s the one.” Staring at him with interest, you wonder if he’ll tell you Arling’s location since he clearly knows it.

“We both know I know where they are, and truth be told I had no intention of telling any of you, but something about you is special.” Your eyes widen at his words, was he really going to give it up that easily?

“He’s at Arlong Park, and I’ll bet she’s with him. I’ll take you there, as a thank you for all this.” You beam at him, ecstatic at the thought of saving Nami. It’s at that moment when Buggy decides your smile is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You rush out, your excitement getting the best of you. He chuckles at your enthusiasm and nods, a smile on his face as well.

“Now be quiet so I can do your makeup,” you say cheekily, dipping the brush into the white knowing that it’s the base for his signature look. He laughs in response but has one last thing to say.

“Do you need me to tell you how to do it?” He looks at you as you shake your head, your smile still prevalent.

“I’ve seen so many of your bounty posters, I’ve practically got it memorized.” His eyes widen at this, and his grin gets bigger.

“Oh, do I have myself a secret admirer?” The clown asks smugly, and he notices the blush that falls upon your face. If he knew it was so easy to make you flustered, he would have done it far sooner, finding you absolutely adorable.

“Shut up and let me work.” You bark, your tone not holding any aggression. He laughs again but does as you say, and you begin to paint his face white. For once, he remains silent, watching you work. Before long, the base is done and you move on to the blue triangles above and below his eyes. You stay silent as your brush runs along his face, wanting to make it look perfect until a thought comes into your head.

“You know something?” He hums, prompting you to continue. “You have the most captivating eyes I’ve ever seen.” Said eyes widen, never having been told that before. Buggy silently thanks the universe for the makeup covering his face because he can feel the heavy blush rising to his cheeks. 

“Th-thanks,” he mutters quietly, not sure how to respond. You tilt your head at him, curiously studying his face. 

“You’re not used to receiving compliments, are you?” Smiling at him softly, you watch as he shakes his head, letting out a nervous laugh.

“Usually I’m the one giving the compliments.” He looks up to meet your gaze, partially expecting you to laugh at him. You do nothing of the sort, instead smiling at him gently.

“Well, that’s a shame because I think you’re pretty handsome.” You wink at him, wanting to make him feel more comfortable since flirting seems to be one of his pastimes. His eyes widen again, the surprise written all over his face. Without saying anything else, you finish the blue around his eyes and move on to the red, cleaning the brush and dipping it into the face paint. The clown stays silent as you work on the red smile around his mouth, internally wondering if you meant what you said. When you get to his nose, he tenses up, a clear indicator that he’s insecure about it. You make sure to be extra careful as you paint the red onto his skin. 

“I meant what I said, I do find you quite attractive.” His eyes search yours for any hint of insincerity but find none. The king of flirting himself is stunned into silence, feeling his heart flutter at your words. You say nothing else and go back to finishing the makeup. Deciding to observe your face while he had the opportunity, he notices that you stick your tongue out slightly when concentrated, and he swears he’s never seen anything cuter. 

“All done!” You pull away proudly, assessing your work. It looks almost identical to his bounty picture, and you internally pat yourself on the back for your memory. Getting up to grab a mirror, you find one in the small dresser and bring it towards Buggy, holding it up so he can see his reflection. He looks in the mirror and instantly grins, impressed with your makeup skills.

“You know, you would be a wonderful addition to my crew.” You chuckle in response, not thinking that he’s being serious.

“You need a professional makeup artist?” You joke, internally glad he thinks you did a good job.

“No really, we could use someone like you.” His proposal shocks you, not expecting him to say something like that. 

“You don’t know me,” you speak quietly. He just smiles at you, taking in your beauty. 

“I know enough. You’re kind, funny, and great at makeup.” The clown winks at you, enjoying the surprise on your face. “I’ve also heard you are quite the fighter.” Smirking at you, he gives you a look that tells you he means what he says. You just stare at him in silence, having a hard time believing your ears. 

“So, sweetness, what do you say?” Gaping at him, you blink a few times, processing his offer. After a moment, you sigh, indecision written all over your features.

“I don't know, I’d have to leave the straw hats, and I’m not sure I could do that.” Surprisingly, his face softens at your words.

“Tell you what, let’s head off to save your friend and find my body, and then you can decide.” His smile remains soft, which is unusual for the clown. “I don’t think your current crew appreciates you. I mean, look at today, they gave you the task of babysitting me when you have so much more to offer.” Eyes widening at his words, you realize that maybe he’s right.

“Luffy appreciates me,” you whisper softly, though you’re not sure whether you’re trying to convince him or yourself.

“He might, but grass head certainly doesn’t.” You want to smirk at the nickname for Zoro, but there’s too much going on in your mind for your facial muscles to pull through.

“All I’m going to say is this, you’d have a real place in my crew, and not just on the bottom of the totem pole. Besides, I think you like my company just as much as I like yours.” He gazes at you, studying your body language, and you realize that he’s right, you do enjoy his company. You start nibbling on your lip out of nervous habit, and he picks up on it immediately.

“You don’t have to decide now, we can go rescue your friend first, okay?” He watches your shoulders visibly relax at that, and smiles in return.

“Okay.” You say softly, smiling back at him. “Your hair should be dry now.” Moving closer, you carefully take the towel off his head and giggle at the fluffy blue mess. 

“Thank the stars I have a brush.” Buggy chuckles at the comment and watches you grab the hairbrush with a smile on his face. Softly working through the tangles, you watch as his hair goes from frizzy to smooth. As you’re running the brush through his mane one last time, the door opens, revealing a shocked and somewhat appalled Zoro.

“What the hell is going on in here?!” Yells the swordsman, and you turn to him with a confused look.

“Well, you told me to watch him so I did.” You shrug, not liking the attitude coming from your crewmate.

“I said watch him, not give him a makeover! Did you do his makeup too?” The horrified look on Zoro’s face made Buggy laugh, not used to seeing the man lose his cool.

“You guys never let me do your makeup, so I had to improvise!” You bark back, crossing your arms. Zoro just stares at you silently, clearly having difficulty processing your kindness towards the clown. After a while, he rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“Whatever. Luffy needs him so we can find out where Nami is.” He mirrors your stance, crossing his arms.

“I already know where she is,” you spit, growing tired of the way he speaks to you. The swordsman scoffs, not believing you for a second.

“Oh, really? How?” A faux smile creeps onto his face, prepared to catch you in a lie.

“Because Buggy told me.” Zoro’s face drops and the man is stunned into silence. The clown immediately bursts into laughter, enjoying Zoro’s dumbfounded look. The green-haired man gawks for a moment, before moving his hands around, silently asking the question ‘how’.

“Because they’re nice and you’re an asshole,” Buggy says smugly, and you can tell he’d be crossing his arms if he had the rest of his body. You break out into a soft chuckle at this, which snaps Zoro out of his trance. 

“I’m not explaining this to Luffy, so you better take the head and go find him.” The swordsman scoffs again before leaving the room, shaking his head the whole time. Rolling your eyes, you move back toward the clown, mumbling to yourself while putting his hair back in a ponytail. 

“Don’t let him get to you, he won’t know what he has until it’s gone.” Buggy’s cheeky grin triggers your own, and you laugh softly, gently picking him up to go find Luffy. 

©️ the-anxious-youth, 2023

Please do not replicate/repost :)

[toodelusionalforreality]

Rare

Azriel x Reader(N)

Summary: Azriel's reluctant night out with his family turns out to be more interesting than he expected.

A/N: This is an experimental piece of work. I'm testing a writing style, so feedback is welcome. I have newfound respect for writers who have mastered group dynamics in their writing.

Word count: ~5.6k

Warning: None [minimal editing/proofreading/formatting]

‘Two weeks,’ Mor whispered, trudging forward with her eyes set ahead in a daze. Her heels hit the cobbled path with soft clicks. ‘They’re closed for two weeks. What am I going to do?’

Feyre looped her arm through hers and guided her away from the closed doors of Rita’s. No one took the disappointment as hard as Mor did. Still, they each expressed varying degrees of frustration with their grunts and groans. Cassian cursed aloud for it was his idea to enjoy a night like good old times. And he enjoyed a night like good old times every two months. However, that night, the rest of the Inner Circle agreed to celebrate the few peaceful months they'd had in a while.

Except for one.

Azriel was grateful for his family’s reunion and their safety. Only he wanted to celebrate it in the quiet of their home. His family didn’t spare him the courtesy of protesting. Knowing him well, they sent the middle Archeron sister to plead their case. One look at her hesitant eyes and he couldn’t deny the soft-hearted woman. He had one regret for the night—to have not flown off when he sensed Elaine’s presence on the other side of his door. 

When Rita disclosed their misfortune, Nesta pinned him with an accusatory glare as if his ill will had manifested into the burning down of their beloved retreat. She would have calmed if Azriel had stood there with his usual blank stare. Instead, he lifted a brow as a smirk tugged at his lips.

Cass grumbled, ‘At least pretend not to enjoy this so much, you ass,’ without even looking at his brother. 

‘Two weeks!’ Mor shrieked, throwing her arms in the air as she reeled out of the initial shock. ‘How could she do this to me?’ Her blonde hair swayed behind her with every shake of her head.

Rhys walked on her other side. Besides Azriel, he was the only one unbothered by the ruin of their plans. ‘I’m sure the fire in her kitchen had barely anything to do with punishing you.’ His taunting tone was the only sign of his apathy for his cousin’s plight.

Elaine’s voice perked up as Mor opened her mouth. ‘We could go somewhere else,’ she inched away with each word as if she expected another outburst. ‘It’s not that late.’

And that’s how Azriel came to hate the woman for the night. 

He wasn’t cruel. He loved his family, and he agreed they deserved a break, but it wasn’t something he would sacrifice his peace for. He was ready with his own proposition—go back home, get drunk on faerie wine, and maybe some mirthroot if they resisted too much. His family would've had their merriment, and he’d have had his serenity.

As they stumbled and meandered through the streets, stopping at one place and the next, vetting out each other’s suggestions, Azriel found himself enjoying the moment—listening to his family’s usual banter, the comfort of familiarity built over centuries, and fussing over triviality instead of wars and courts. If his family chose to spend the entire night on the streets, he would gladly trade his peace for that.

Before he even finished the thought, his family arrived at their destination. The last on their list. Another bar. Or at least what it said on the polished plaque that hung above the rusty door frame.

Cass spoke first, ‘This is it?’ His words echoed the thought they all had in their minds.

Beyond the worn-out door held in place by a brick wedged between it and the doorframe was a harshly lit long room. Even the open door and cool breeze of the summer night couldn’t mask the stench of stuffiness from the dingy hole in the wall. Light flickered warning anyone dared contemplate entering the horrid place. Too narrow to hold any table or chair, there stood a single desk opposite the entrance. Two shelves nailed behind it sloped, the bottles stacked atop them slowly making their way to the edge. A place like that at the centre of Velaris was a swamp surrounded by beauty and life.

A woman rotten with age sat behind the table. Her hands jittered with each click of the needles held between her sharp, black claws. Her crooked nose curving past her thin lips and her non-existent ears were the only indications of her faerie blood other than her savage nails. Azriel couldn’t remember the last time he saw a creature that looked so old and fragile, yet with malice in her being, a kind of cruelty that lurked in her bones. 

Despite what he witnessed, none of it deterred him that night. His body shook with silent laughter. All that wasted trip, endless stops to pick at the tiniest flaws only for his family to end up there. 

Mother loved him. The complete disbelief on their faces was worth everything Azriel suffered since he opened his door to Elaine that night. Even his shadows seemed to enjoy the irony of their situation, skittering around his shoulders.

Mor turned to him sharply, her eyes alight with fire. ‘As long as there’s wine, this will do,’ she gritted her teeth. 

Pushing his friend, whose only purpose in life was proving a point, was the last thing Azriel wanted to do. Yet it was an opportunity he couldn’t pass. How far would his family go? What would it take to break them? Would they give in and chuck down whatever wretched brew the suspicious creature offered? He merely bowed his head and waved at the door.

Mor swallowed her squeak of disgust as she crossed the threshold. Her eyes ran over the assortment of bottles on the shelves—three filled to the brim with pale green liquid, two half-filled with something that looked awfully like rotten blood, of what Azriel didn’t care to find out. 

‘Do you suppose,’ she brought her eyes back to the woman, ‘you have any wine?’

The needles went silent for a beat, ‘Take your pick,’ and resumed. Not once did the creature glance at them as she jerked her chin to the shelf above her head.

With the seven of them now inside, the air turned hot and suffocating. Nesta pushed past to the front, standing next to Mor. ‘This is Pharus, isn’t it? The bar?’

Finally, the faerie looked up. Her eyes roved over their faces, their bodies, the detailing of threads on their clothes finer than the ones she held in her hands. ‘Of course,’ she snarled, ‘why else would you be here?’ Her lazy eyes rolled creepily in their sockets to stop at the door beside the shelf. ‘Over there,’ she said and went back to her hideous patchwork of browns and blues and pinks.

In the silence, a steady thrum of beats crept along the floor. A soft murmur lured them to trust the creature’s words and enter the unknown that awaited them behind the burnished wood, a portal out of the creature’s lair.

Mor stepped up to the door, her eyes on the glass doorknob—hypnotised, curious, so bright. As her fingers brushed against it, the faerie cleared her throat. ‘There’s a price for it,’ she added with a sly smile on her lips, a little thing that didn’t belong in her sagging face.

Azriel fished into his pockets while his family stared between the door and its guardian. His curiosity ebbed and grew to a point of no return. He had to find whatever called to him, whatever called to them. He dropped a gold on the table. It clattered on the wood, its ring echoing for a breath too long. 

The faerie stared at it and then at him, and then his family, studying each of their faces. Her claws left scratches on the wood as she grasped the coin in her palm. She sniffed it, her eyes widening.

The door didn’t make a sound under Mor’s hand. One by one, they entered, and Azriel let the door close behind him. Their heels clicked on the polished wooden floor.

Every plush leather chair, strategically arranged table, and carefully curated decorations contributed to the elegance of the room. Soothing warmth enveloped them even on the summer night in a comforting embrace. The fragrance of spices cut through the musk of the wooden furniture. Golden orbs hung from the ceiling, casting a soft glow across the space enough to enable their fae sight, but none too harsh like Rita’s.

A band sat on a raised podium at the far end, playing music that complimented their ambience. In the middle stood the majestic bar, a stretch of counter that ran along almost the entire length of the room. Bottles filled with various shades of liquor sat on the shelves behind—each of them, artistically planned and placed. Lights reflected off decanters and glasses set on trays, adding a bit of colour to the brown and gold theme of the room.  

Faerie—high and lesser—took the seats without sparing each other a glance of discrimination. There was no stench of tension in the air, only a fragile calmness. Two servers shifted around the room speaking softly with polite smiles on their lips. A female tended to the bar, her hands worked with mesmerising precision. Despite the overflowing liquor, there wasn’t any loud cry, laughter, or chatter. 

Luxury and safety were the words that came to Azriel’s mind. His shadows shaded his shoulders, falling quiet as they studied their new territory. 

One of the servers led them to the only table large enough to fit them—close to the band, a bench along the wall on one side, and chairs on the other.

Once they settled, he spoke with a rehearsed tone, ‘I’m guessing you’re new here.’ The hitch in his breath told them he knew exactly who they were, and yet his smile remained. ‘We have two rules. One, we ensure the night’s peaceful here as much as possible. So, we don’t appreciate harassment of any kind, and I’d advise you to stay out of trouble. Two, if our barkeep cuts you off for whatever reason, you leave.’ His shoulders relaxed as if it were the most hated part of his job, and his smile turned more genuine. ‘Other than that, you do whatever you want. What would you like to drink?’

‘I’ll have faerie wine,’ Mor waited for no one, ‘Any wine. Don’t care how many.’ Her thigh pushed against Azriel’s as she shifted to a comfortable position on the bench, her warmth seeping past his leathers. A swift nod from everyone else had the server scrambling back to the bar.

Nesta inspected the surrounding faces. ‘What kind of moron expects drunks to follow rules?’

‘The one who doesn’t want to be held responsible for whatever happens when they are broken.’ Nesta’s eyes snapped to Azriel’s, and he shrugged. 

Elaine looked between their faces, expecting the inevitable. But the Inner Circle indulged in spying on their night’s getaway. ‘Are we really ignoring what we saw outside?’

‘Oh,’ the server peered down at them as he set a tray with two wine bottles and glasses with a grace unexpected of his thick, manly fingers. ‘That hag is harmless. She just wastes her day knitting. If she bothered you, it’s because you’re new. Easy prey, you know? The regulars are used to her by now.’

Feyre reached for the glass offered to her. ‘Who is she?’

The server didn’t care to meet their eyes, but his words were eager. ‘She came with the building. This used to be her home. The old owner, her son, wanted to sell this bar. He found a better place for his family. But she didn’t want to move. Night and day they fought so much that people were afraid to even walk the street. Anyway, the son couldn’t resist our offer and sold it, and she—,’ he clicked his tongue, ‘she refused to leave with him. And N didn’t want to leave her homeless.’

Azriel didn’t particularly enjoy the conversation as much as his family did. It mattered very little to the server, whose words tumbled out in a single breath. Clearly, it wasn’t the first time he was telling the story to his customers. He would make a terrible spy, Azriel thought. Maybe a decent source.

'N?’

'She owns the place now. She gave the hag that hall. That’s where she and her husband lived before her son built a bar here.’ He sighed. His eyes swept over the rest of the room once he placed a filled glass in front of each of them. ‘It’s not good for business with a front like that. She scares everyone away. But N insisted, and we renovated around it. Most customers don’t even set foot inside after the first time. Some take pity and give her a few coppers. Not that she needs them though. N takes care of all her needs.’

He turned to them with a wide smile, with a server’s politeness. ‘Anyway, enjoy!’ He turned to leave and paused. ‘You didn’t give her anything, did you?’

Every pair of eyes at the table fixated on Azriel. He blinked, ‘A gold.’

‘You better stay away from her the next time.’ The server walked away laughing.

In his long life, and also as a spy, Azriel had met enough faeries ranging from the vilest to the kindest. Nothing fazed him anymore. Though it would have made quite a story on any other day, his focus remained on his family. He would rather figure out a way to coax his friends to leave early than uncover more about a hag and her benefactor. After a long night of searching for a bar which offered wine sweeter than Rita’s, he knew it would be almost impossible.

At her sister’s request, Feyre led Elaine closer to the band, both nursing their drinks in their hands. Loose chairs littered the open space in front of the dais, where they took a seat among other patrons. The musicians nodded at them with a smile. 

Cass slammed his glass on the table. ‘I don’t like this place,’ he grumbled, looking at the well-behaved mob, ‘Where’s the fun here? This is not how a bar is supposed to be.’

‘Why? Is this place too classy for a brute like you?’ Nesta smirked, sipping her drink as she surveyed the place. She fitted right in.

Years of sneaking and spying had ingrained the instincts in Azriel’s very bones, impossible to separate who he was and what he did for his family, for his court. His hazel eyes didn’t miss a thing. His shadows stayed close and whispered in his ears. Careful, calculating.

Between the bar and the band stood two doors—one the servers often drifted in and out of with trays in their hands, a kitchen; and the other too pristine to be a back door or entrance to a storage room. An office, maybe. No one entered or exited it since his family took their seats across it. 

His brother was wrong. The patrons enjoyed their time, but not the way people did in Rita’s. Like his family, they bundled together and shared a drink and a laugh with their loved ones. Their glazed eyes and flushed faces proved they indulged in the drinks as much as Cass did. A few cleared the space in front of the band, shifting the chairs around and waltzing to the music. A sense of belonging lingered in the air, unlike the mindless chaos that stained Rita’s.

As warned, the bartender declined drinks to a few. Even the ones who posed the most threat to start a fight walked away without resistance. Not one sound of protest or trouble followed.

Elaine and Feyre returned when the band paused to start their next song. As Elaine settled into the seat across from him, she gave the widest smile to Azriel. He smiled back. Rhys filled Feyre’s glass and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Cass and Mor still disagreed with Nesta on the essence of the true bar experience. Rhys took Nesta’s side only to watch his brother seethe with anger. With the remaining sisters returned to the table, it became clear Cass and Mor were losing the battle.

To add salt to their burn, Azriel trailed a finger along the rim of his glass and smirked. ‘I like this place too.’

‘You weren’t on board all night and now you have an opinion?’ Cass waved a hand of dismissal but his eyes burned with betrayal, ‘Go back to your brooding.’ Azriel grinned.

Laughing and stumbling, Mor headed to the bar. The bartender blushed so red that it wasn’t a mystery what she was up to. Minutes later, she returned with a bottle of amber liquor and a glass of a blue-green drink.

Bottles were emptied, banter was shared, and laughs grew contagious. Even though it was harmless, raucous laughter, they attracted the wary eyes of the server. Azriel knew where they were headed. 

He slid Rhys’s glass of whiskey out of his grasp, who turned to him with an arched brow. He mumbled with a sigh, ‘We’d need more than one ride tonight.’ 

Rhys didn’t argue. He limited his drinks as much as Azriel that night for the sake of his mate. Ever since Feyre, his brother’s usual recklessness waned. He became more attentive and considerate in ways he had never shown before. 

Both his brothers were equally troublesome. Cass with his wildness and brutality, and Rhys with his cunning and sly. And yet, after finding their mates, they were still all that and a bit more, someone better in every sense. 

Azriel looked at Mor pressed to his side, drunk and smiling. The woman he once loved. And then, Elaine, the woman he wondered to be his mate. 

Even with the passage of time and endless disappointments, his heart refused to let go of hope—such a fickle thing for an immortal life. An everlasting pain that turned the kindest of souls into a force of cruelty—worse than love, worse than torture, worse than death.

To have heard of and believed in a spiritual bond with another was one thing, but to see it with his own eyes and not long for it was not something even a damned soul like him could resist. 

Who wouldn’t want something so precious divined by Mother herself, to be blessed by her, to be born fortunate to have a mate in their lifetime and find them? 

Azriel knew love, he’d felt it. But how was it any different from a mating bond? Would a love be enough to save his wretched heart from himself? Could a love be as profound and sacred as a mating?

He looked at the happy faces of his family. Four of the seven—mated and in love. One with her supposed mate. 

Rare of the rarest.

And there he was. An ordinary rock amongst gems. One Mother didn’t deem worthy enough. Maybe she was right. What was he, after all, but an unlucky bastard? What would it take for Azriel to be one of them? Shadowsinger. Warrior. Servant. Brother. Friend. Survivor. Tortured. Abused. Broken. What more did he need to be to appease the Mother to bless him with one miracle? 

What would make him one of the deserving?

He took the glass he snatched from his brother and downed the drink in one gulp. The liquor burned his throat, a good burn, almost as good as the one his hands endured a long, long time ago.

Rhys turned to him with a blank stare. Azriel checked his mental wards and averted his eyes. It was pathetic enough to long for something that he couldn’t have. He refused to warrant pity from his brothers as well. 

His family was together and happy. He breathed in the sweet aroma of the blue-green liquor Mor swirled in her glass. 

It was a good night. 

As he drank a little more, his shadows ventured out weaving through tables and shuffling feet. Azriel allowed it for a while before he reined them back. But they never answered when they returned, only dancing around his shoulders.

Moments later, they tried again, crawling down his back. The tug and pull of control slipped out of his hands as if an invisible force stripped them off him. A gentle caress over his shoulders, coaxing him, easing him to let go. And his shadows were willing to follow this force, betraying their loyalty to him. Azriel didn’t touch his drink after that. 

As expected, the server approached their table and looked at him, the only one sober enough to be reasonable. ‘We won’t cause any trouble,’ said Azriel before he could speak.

His shadows swayed around the back of his neck and leaned to peer beyond the male in their path. They stood still, unmoving, watching, and then crashed into his shoulder, turning into a dark mist.

The server watched them wide-eyed. He shook his head and glanced behind him at the once-closed door, now open. ‘Maybe they could get something mild. Don't let N see them like this.’ With those words, he stalked back to the bar.

The room in front of him lacked the soft ambience of the bar with its golden lights and cosy furniture. A desk with a chair occupied the small space, giving a partial view of the bar outside. A woman bounded down the stairs that ran up from behind the door. She headed to the bar, exchanged a few words with the bartender, and went back inside the room. The servers paused by the door to greet her before they moved on.

N.

To own a bar for high fae and lesser faeries alike, to have her workers and customers fear her, N was laughably docile. Azriel had spent long enough around women of strength and courage to never judge one by looks, but he couldn’t help it. 

In her simple dark pants that flared at the hem and grey-white shirt, N was underdressed than her workers. She was as tall as Feyre, maybe a few inches taller. Her face held a hint of innocence, not close to Elaine’s, but something about her convinced she was harmless. Unless she had a sharp tongue like Nesta or had someone like Mor or Amren to do her bidding, it was unlikely she managed to keep her patrons in line by herself.

‘Azriel,’ called Mor from beside him. Her eyes were unexpectedly fierce after all the wine she had. ‘You’re drinking, right?’ She waved the empty glass in her hand.

He knew he should’ve said no. He glanced at the server across the room, but Nesta and Mor had already left for the bar. His attention drifted to the three drunk males who stood too close to a young fae trying to get away from them. She inched closer and closer to Mor who whispered into Nesta’s ear making her laugh. The shadows on his shoulders grew restless, creeping up and down his arms. He should have offered to get the drinks himself.

Cass was in the middle of narrating an elaborate plot of his fights in Illyrian war camps from their childhood days to Elaine as she leaned over the table with enthralled horror in her eyes. Rhys smiled smugly at his exaggerations while Feyre looked over at the bar, thinking the same as Azriel.

The crude comments of the three males circling the fae made the bartender stare between them with nervous eyes. The air silenced around them, nothing but their obnoxious laughter echoed. The smile on Nesta’s lips vanished, and Mor noticed. His friends at the table paused their conversation. 

‘Come now,’ one of the male carried on, ‘don’t be like that.’ 

N looked up from the paper in her hand. She stared ahead at the wall where the male would have stood if it hadn’t been in her way. Dropping the papers onto the table, she reached inside a drawer. She stepped out of the room, cradling a leather bracelet to her right wrist, pulling its straps taut against her skin. 

The bartender breathed in relief as N eased next to her and took a step back. N gathered her hair, securing it at the nape of her neck as the bartender whispered in her ear. Chunks of hair slipped free and framed her face. Her eyes swept across the bar, took in the faces seated before her, deliberately shifting over the three males. She stood in front of them, mixing drinks with precision and expertise on par with the bartender. She didn't lift her eyes up again.

The male moved close to the fae who immediately backed away. ‘Come on, love. It’s free drink. You should be grateful.’ He spoke into her ear but loud enough to be heard across the room.

A minute longer, and Nesta would have ripped that fool’s tongue with a shard of her broken glass. Azriel had seen enough bar fights—started a few and ended too many—to know when one loomed around the corner.

N’s eyes darted to the man’s hand reaching for the fae and then his face for a second while her body gave no sign of her attention on anything but the tumbler in her hand. A smirk tugged at Azriel's lips.

Maybe it was a bad idea to let Mor and Nesta murder a few males in a bar they had never visited before. Maybe it was a bad idea not to interfere with their authority which usually saved time with vermin like the male. Or maybe it was a bad idea to let the situation escalate, putting the fae in danger only to see N’s reaction.

But Azriel was not above making bad decisions to quell his curiosity. He leaned back and brought his glass to his lips.

‘She’s not interested,’ said N in a voice so soft and smooth. With her eyes on the pink liquor she poured into a tall glass, she added, ‘And she has a drink.’ Her eyes met the fae's, gentle yet firm. She pushed the glass with her index finger. The fae heaved a sigh of relief and reached for it.

The male turned his attention to N with a wicked smile. ‘The coins are to shut your mouth, pretty.’ He ran his vile eyes over her and winked. ‘I’ll come back for you later.’ With a bone-grating chuckle, he returned to the fae who backed towards the tables. He blocked her path with his hand, ‘So, what do you say?’

Oh, how Azriel wanted to tear every tooth from his jaws. 

N finally looked at him. Her eyes were calm and intense, a reassured stillness in them. She straightened and placed her hands on the counter. And it was enough to shift the air around them. The woman who commanded respect from her patrons was in the room instead of the quiet, lingering spirit that drifted in and out moments earlier. The band slowed their music, and the ones who refused to look at the ruckus dared to glance their way.

‘I’m going to ask you to leave.’

The male let out a grunt, mean and vulgar. ‘Shut up, you bitch.’ A grimace of impatience replaced his smile. He hissed at the fae, ‘You’re starting to make me angry.’

His eyes widened as a hand grabbed the back of his hand and shoved it face-first onto the wood of the counter. His arms flailed miserably to stop the impact, only to fail. The following crunch made the fae flinch away.

N let go and walked around the bar, her steps calculated and leisured. Her dainty fingers slipped through two gold rings attached to the inside of the bracelet. ‘You okay?’ she asked the fae softly as she pulled the fingers away, two cords of metal unwinding between the rings and the leather. Once she got a frantic nod from the fae, she diverted her focus to the crying male who swiped at his face and stared at his bloodied hands.

Cass snorted. His drink sprayed through his nose, drenching himself and poor Elaine. Rhys’s eyes gleamed with amusement. Feyre looked between N, Nesta and Mor.

The male screeched to no one in particular, ‘That bitch hit me.’ His nose flared and spurts of blood leaked soaking his shirt. ‘You’ll pay for this,’ he lunged forward.

N sauntered ahead with lazy steps and swerved when his fist came close. Her left hand went around his head once. The male stumbled forward by the wasted force of his body and his neck caught in the cords.

N pulled her hands back to her sides, the cords went taut, and the male fell to his knees. His bloodied fingers pried at the noose around his neck. His breaths grew shallow and raspy. Blood sprinkled from his nose with each strain of his chest. His pained cries echoed in the quiet. Not even his friends attempted to help him.

‘Whining on the floor,’ N curved her wrist around his head again, watching his eyes grow wider, ‘Leash on your neck. You sure you aren’t the bitch?’ She looked down at him with void eyes as her fingers clawed his jaw open.

Her other hand reached for a bottle on the counter, her eyes never leaving his. She tipped the bottle close to his mouth and his breath left his chest in a painful heave. ‘It’s free drink, love.’ Her voice was a lover’s purr, low and soft. As the liquor filled his mouth and streamed down his shirt mixed with the red of his blood, she gritted her teeth, ‘Be grateful.’ The first emotion she showed.

It was inappropriate. 

Utterly inappropriate. 

A deep chuckle ripped from Azriel’s throat, loud enough to warrant the glances from his family and the ones beside their table.

When the male choked and his eyes blurred, N stopped. Her fingers released him and slipped out of the rings with a simple flick. The rings whipped spraying drops of amber-red in the air before it latched onto the bracelet again, the cords disappearing between the black of the leather. She turned to his friends, ‘Don’t come back.’

They nodded, their eyes wide, and began to back away. The cries of their friend brought them out of their stupor and they carried him out with his blood staining the once perfect floor. 

N blinked. 

Once they were out the door, she went back behind the counter, and time resumed. The band began their music again. Servers shuffled to clean the floors and check on the fae. The bartender wiped at the splotches of blood on the counter with a rag.

N cleaned her hands and continued with her other orders. As she offered drinks to the ones still waiting at the bar, she smiled. Azriel set his glass down.

When she reached Mor and Nesta, she studied their faces and uttered a few words. Mor pointed at their table with a grin, her eyes sparkling under the light swaying over her head. 

N spared each of them a glance. Her eyes paused at Cass and his wings, Azriel and his wings, and finally Rhys and behind him where his wings should have been. The shadows didn’t appreciate the scrutiny. They went erratic around his shoulders and for a moment her eyes returned to the shadowsinger again.

‘She’s judging us,’ Rhys muttered through his grin. The amusement in his eyes flickered and N held his gaze. ‘Rather harshly,’ he chuckled. 

Feyre frowned at him. ‘Stop it!’

Rhys’s smile fell from his lips. He hummed, staring at N for a beat too long before he turned to his mate. ‘It’s not my fault. Her mind called to me,’ he kissed her cheek.

Azriel wanted to ask what his brother meant, but knew better. His shadows quietened around him, still as midnight air, draping over his shoulders with their ghostly weight. They didn’t sing to him much that night.

Mor and Nesta returned with a tray of drinks. N wrapped an arm around the bartender and whispered in her ear. Her eyes were soft and her lips still held a smile. The bartender relaxed and sighed. Azriel wondered if there was more between the two. N rushed out of her room at the first sign of trouble and took charge of every responsibility while the bartender stayed safe and recovered.

‘I like this place!’ Mor exclaimed as she slumped next to him and handed him a glass after taking one for herself.

Cass only cursed under his breath. ‘Because she gave you free booze?’ He stole a drink for himself, ‘But that show was fun.’

‘So was yours,’ Nesta laughed and pointed at his soaked front.

N accepted a sealed plate from the server with a smile and headed to her office. Her fingers paused at the doorknob. She looked down at her shirt. Crimson spotted along her torso below her ribs. She ran her fingers over them once, slowly. She blinked and wiped again at the dried stain. And again. Then she closed the door.

Once the glasses were emptied, Mor hated the place again. The drinks N offered sobered them completely. Grumbling and muttering their disapproval at the trickery and betrayal, Mor and Cass walked out of the bar with the others trailing behind them. 

Azriel sneaked a glance at the locked door smiling before he joined his family. It was indeed a good night.

Next chapter: Sanctuary