#and now you’re concerned because it looks ridiculous

[allmoshnobrain]

You're a short girl, and sometimes that messes with your confidence. Your boyfriend doesn't seem to care at all, though.

✦ on this fic: simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader, fluff, reader is short and it makes her a bit insecure

✦ a/n: this is my first time writing for anything other than metallica/megadeth/venom which is what i usually write for but i've been daydreaming a lot about this man and needed to get this out of my system 😭 also it was a great way to warm up and start writing again after my break!! hope u guys enjoy it 💖

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It takes him a while to pick up on your insecurity.

It's subtle, and honestly, he’s not exactly great with subtle. He fails, at first, to catch the way you pout, the way you frown whenever you see a hot actress who’s taller than you, or a long dress you think would look better on someone with a few more inches.

He finally catches on, though, one night when you’re cooking dinner. It’s kind of a slip up, really — a tiring day and your period cramps the worst they’ve been in the last few hours just making it easier for you to get upset over the smallest thing. So when you can’t reach one of the trays on the top shelf and have to ask him to grab it, he turns around to see you teary-eyed and upset, which is not how this usually goes.

“Love?” he asks, his brow furrowing when he sees your state “What’s wrong?” He glances at the glass tray in his hands. “Did I grab the wrong one?”

“What? No, no, it’s fine,” you mutter, his confused look quickly shifting into worry when he notices the tears in your eyes.

“Hey,” he quickly puts the tray down and gently grabs your chin. “Talk to me. What is it?”

He’s firm, straightforward but not harsh, which just makes you feel even more ridiculous for almost crying over something so dumb.

“I’m being silly,” you say, but he shakes his head. 

“Don’t say that,” he mutters. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

That last part sounds almost like a command, his voice all firm and serious — something that would probably annoy you if he didn’t sound so genuinely concerned. You sigh.

“I wish I was taller,” you whisper, hoping he wouldn’t hear it, but he does. Of course he does.

“You wish you were taller?” he repeats, now more confused than worried. “Why?”

“I just don’t want to feel useless, always needing your help,” you half-lie, because that’s not really it.  And of course, Simon knows — he always does. You can tell by the way he raises his eyebrow slightly at you, disarming you instantly. “I wish I was prettier,” you finally mutter.

“You are pretty,” he says slowly, like he’s still trying to figure out where all this is coming from. “You’re beautiful. And I like helping you.”

“But tall girls are… More beautiful,” you sniffle, and he snorts.

“Who said that?”

“I said,” you frown. “Like, every time I see a cute dress that’s too long, I just think I can’t wear it. It won’t look right on me. I always feel like I can only look cute, but sometimes I want to look, I don’t know, gorgeous. Tall girls just always seem to look gorgeous to me, and I...”

“Oh, shush,” Simon grumbles, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. He tilts your chin up gently so you’re looking at him. “You are gorgeous. And you’re beautiful, and you’re mine. And I like you small — easier to hold.”

You can’t help but laugh. It’s shaky, and you try to hold it back, wanting to stay in your little pity party a bit longer. I mean, seriously, what does he mean by "you’re gorgeous" when you feel the exact opposite?

"Easier to hold?" you say, trying to sound offended but failing as a giggle slips out.

"There she is," he hums, kissing the corner of your mouth, and that’s when you realize you’re smiling. "My girl. Don’t be upset, love. You don’t need to be taller to be pretty. And if you ever need to reach for something, well, that’s what I’m here for."

“You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend,” you tease. He lets out an exasperated sigh.

“I’m not.”

“You are!”

“Goddammit, woman. Will you quit trying to convince me you’re not beautiful? It’s not happening,” he frowns, then leans in, pressing a small, tender kiss to your lips. His arms wrapped around you are comfortable, warm and firm and feel like home.

It never fails to disarm you, how soft he can be. Out of the blue, always when you’re not really expecting it. Just when you think you’ve finally managed to annoy him or maybe this is the time he’s gonna get tired of you. He never fails to prove you wrong. 

He never fails to prove that he loves you, just the way you are.

[snzluv3r]

gf officially went through being gaslit at the doctors with me 🎉🙈 held me while i cried afterwards so that was a nice little touch

[slytherinslut0]

jealousy. | slytherin boy headcanons

author’s note: im completely unhinged, as always. no surprise there. love me some angry snake men🥵 please enjoy.

-your boyfriend sees another guy flirting with you in the hall.

Draco Malfoy.

Sees you from down the hall as he’s walking with his friends.

“You know what, guys, I’ll catch up with you after.”

Would literally ditch his friends to make his way over, collecting himself as saunters up to you and mystery man.

Would instantly grab your ass, no hesitation, grip firm enough to bruise. When you gasp, caught off guard, he’d shift his arm up and around your shoulder, pulling you against him.

“What’re we talking about?” He’d sneer.

His voice would be laced with feign interest, smirking down at you with blaring eyes before shooting daggers at the boy.

He’d simply chuckle at you when you tell him nothing, just school stuff, leaning down to place a possessive kiss on your cheek as he grabbed your hand.

“Wonderful. let’s head to class, yeah?”

He’d pull you away from that dude, shooting him another look meant to kill, a silent warning not to fuck with him.

Finally gets you alone in an empty corridor or bathroom; would waste literally no time at all before pushing you against the wall and grabbing your neck/jaw.

“Who the fuck was that, hm?”, “he was practically eye-fucking you…give me five good reasons why i shouldn’t have him expelled or hexed into bloody Azkaban.”

He’d be furious, but he’d also know that you’d never choose some other guy over him, so he’d soften once he hears the innocence in your tone.

“You’re mine, princess,” he’d loosen his grip, kissing you softly. “Say it.”

Blaise Zabini.

Was listening to music while walking down the hall, instantly rips out his headphones the second he sees you laughing a little too hard with some dude he doesn’t know.

He doesn’t necessarily stop walking, but he’d definitely slow his pace, kind of just watching, not wanting to interfere but also not wanting to look creepy stalking you from a distance.

When the guy doesn’t leave, he’d tired of waiting, saying “fuck it”, before marching over naturally.

This man is so fucking cool calm and collected he’d just saunter right up and join in, making himself at home.

He’d practically take over the conversation because he’s literally just that chill in every situation, seamlessly fitting right in, so fucking charming and loved by everyone.

You’d kind of just end up staring at him, smiling in silent awe, knowing that this was his way of asserting his place, letting the guy know what the fuck was up.

After the dude leaves he’d just causally look at you, smirking that charming smirk, wetting his lips as he hooked an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, leaning down for a kiss.

“Ain’t no one getting you without getting me too, babygirl.” He’d murmur against your lips. “let that be known, right now, forever, always.”

Lorenzo Berkshire.

Would literally stop everything. The second he’d see you laughing and smiling he’d be completely unable to focus on anything else and would completely zone out of any conversations with his friends.

Would get like super anxious and flustered pretty much immediately.

Wouldn’t want to intrude so he’d just kind of hang back, wait for you against the wall and try not to stare too much.

His adorable little cheeks would flush, and he’d know he seemed utterly ridiculous so he’d try to busy himself with his shoelace or something while he waits.

You’d quickly cut off the conversation and move over to him, instantly being able to tell that he’s overthinking.

He’d smile at you, though you could still see the concern on his features.

“Who was that guy, darling?”

You’d tell him he was just a friend from class, no one special at all, pulling him in for a hug and giving him a quick smoochie on the cheek.

“Don’t worry enz, no one could ever take your place.”

He’d blush, trying to play it off. “Sorry love, I know you’re my girl.”

You’d take his hand, squeezing him hard, never wanting him to doubt that for a second. “Only yours baby, forever.”

Mattheo Riddle.

“Who the fuck-“

Would literally whip his bag at Theo, hastily shoving through the crowded hallway with blazing eyes, tunnel visioned as he tried to figure out where the fuck this dude found the audacity.

You wouldn’t even have to turn around to know he’s there, you’d be able to literally feel the anger radiating off of him.

You’d already know exactly where this was heading, but you’d also know there was no attempting to stop him because it’s pointless. Everyone in the school knows that.

Matty does what Matty wants, and right now, he wants to fuck up this guys face for even thinking about flirting with you.

You’d simply look up at him, noting his tensed jaw and his dark eyes as he glances between you and the dude, before fixing back on you, wetting his lips before he says,

“Is this fucker bothering you?”

Unable to help it, you’d smirk, shaking your head as you calmly attempted to talk him down.

“No Matty, he just asked if he could borrow my study notes-“

He’d heard more than enough.

“Study notes? Yeah, I don’t fucking think so,”

Without giving the guy a chance to react, he’d reach for his collar, shoving his back against the wall, teeth barred and face contorted in a snarl as he’d hiss:

“Bother my fucking girlfriend again and the only study notes you’ll need are the ones on how to drink out of a fucking straw, understand?”

Not interested in the response, he’d shove the guy away, eyes softening instantly as he moved back over to you, thrusting a hand through your hair as he kissed you like it’d been a hundred years, right in the middle of the hall for everyone to see.

And judging by the intensity in his grip, you’d already know, later that night, he’d be extra fucking sure to ask you who the fuck you belong to while he’s fucking you.

When he finally pulled back, he’d smirk at you. “Some bloody nerve on that guy, huh?”

You’d just shake your head and laugh, taking his hand as the two of you headed for class.

Theodore Nott.

He’d spot you from down the hall, his eyes instantly narrowing, gaze darting around as though he was missing something, as though this was some sort of sick joke.

Surely, this dude is mentally unwell, right? There’s no fucking way that he’s-

Doesn’t bother to think about it for even another fucking second, instantly shoving through the crowd to make his way over.

Proceeds to wrap his arm around your waist, other hand finding your jaw and pulling your lips to his before you could even process it.

Would proceed to full-on make out with you in front of the dude, and I mean tongue and all, his grip on your jaw so tight you’d know exactly what he was trying to do.

His hand around your waist might even slip lower, grazing over your ass, and then that’s when you’d attempt to gather yourself and push him back, completely embarrassed.

He’d just shrug, smirking down at you before he’d finally acknowledge the guys’ presence with literally nothing more than a glare meant to kill.

“Move along,” he’d say to the guy while pulling you away, grip tighter than ever. “This one’s fucking taken.”

As soon as he got you alone he’d be damn sure to remind you that you’re his, and only his, making you beg and whine his name before he fucked you like you deserved the pain.

Tom Riddle.

“AVADA KEDA-“

Lowkey kidding but not really.

No one would even dare because that man would make it clear as fucking day what would happen if they tried.

[arhvste]

“this is killing me.” kuroo mumbled as he tossed his phone to his side. “just trust me bro,” his best friend-turned roommate bokuto grinned. “this works everytime for me i swear!”

kuroo sighed before grabbing phone again to refresh his instagram story views once more. several people had already viewed the post-gym mirror selfie he’d taken in attempts to garner attention from one particular follower of his; you. “maybe it’s too cringe…” he muttered while over analysing the photo that had already gained a couple of likes within the twenty minutes it had already been up for. “nah.” bokuto reassured him and pat his friend on the shoulder. “you look sexy.” kuroo stared back at the two-toned haired boy. “… thanks bro.”

this isn’t something kuroo would typically post but times were tough and he was desperate. he’d seen you around campus but luck was not on his side when it came to scheduling and the two of you barely had class time together. yet the little class time you did share, kuroo hung onto it tightly and would let scenes of these weekly one hour classes replay in his head more often than he’d like to admit.

“i feel like a modern jay gatsby,” the ex volleyball captain huffed. “my selfie is the equivalent of the wild parties he’d throw in hopes to get daisy’s attention except i don’t want to post every night, i’ve already made myself cringe with this one post.” bokuto stared back at his friend blankly. “yeah… whatever that means.” kuroo frowned back “it’s a classic, you should know what i mean!”

how much longer was he going to have to wait? bokuto had promised him quick results with this method and so far he’d felt deceived and lied to. if talking to you when he got the chance wasn’t enough to get a conversation going outside the classroom, then social media seemed like the next best attempt to start interacting more.

what were you doing? why weren’t you viewing his story? could you even see his story? did he accidentally block you?

these questions ran through his mind as he quickly rushed to check to make sure he hadn’t for some reason blocked you from seeing his story. he half wished he did because then at least he’d know what on earth was taking you so damn long to see the photo he was increasingly starting to hate more the longer it was posted.

“this is stupid.” he stated as he faced bokuto who had zero concerns in his method in gaining someone’s attention. “it works you just have to wait, trust me.”

kuroo frowned as the little red hearts of others who weren’t you fluttered from the bottom corner of the photo. “look!” his best friend grinned as he leaned over kuroo’s shoulder and pointed to the screen of his phone. “you’re getting likes on it!”

“what’s the point if they’re not likes from the person i posted this for in the first place.” kuroo grumbled back in response. he couldn’t believe he’d been subjected to such an attempt to gain some attention from you. it was ridiculous.

it had been about forty five minutes since he’d posted it and he was slowly losing his mind. sure, the post was going to be up for twenty four hours (if he didn’t give into the voices in his head telling him to delete it) so forty five minutes was nothing, but the minutes were beginning to feel like hours and he was dying inside. why weren’t you viewing it already and what could possibly be keeping you off your phone right now?

“this is stupid.” he decided as notifications from his old team mates started to flash up on his screen. the last thing he needed was lev replying with ‘looksmaxing’ to a post that was secretly dedicated to you. “no, it’s barely been up!” bokuto whined. “you look hot so you should get some replies anyway what’s the big deal?”

pinching the bridge of his nose, kuroo huffed. “the big deal is the person i posted this for hasn’t replied!” what was the point in making sure to go to the gym during a rest day just to take this photo if he wasn’t going to at least make his existence more known to you? he’d even worked his legs enough to the point of managing to achieve the sweaty but sexy look. the muscles in his legs were dying, but his dignity sure as hell wouldn’t.

the college student opened up his phone with the intention to end the mental war inside his head once and for all by deleting the post altogether. bokuto watched his friend in defeat but his eyes flashed. “yes they did!” he yelled and pointed to the screen as your name flashed at the top of his screen.

kuroo’s heart jumped at the sight of your profile picture he’d made a daily routine of staring at and the now blue dot indicating a message from your profile in his inbox. to think he was going to delete this post just a second too, what were the chances?

psyching himself up, kuroo took a few quiet deep breathes before letting the time next to your message pass for a few minutes. he wasn’t an instagram warrior by any means, but he knew enough about general rules in order to not look desperate online.

bokuto watched over his friends shoulders as the two stared in anticipation awaiting the message kuroo had been dying for. this was it. leg day two times in a row was gruelling and he’d regret it for the next few days but it would have been worth it. the countless messages from his old teammates mocking his attempts at a thirst trap could be looked past now that you had finally given into the bait he’d so carefully laid. this is what he’d been waiting for. days of preparing and deciding how to gain your attention had finally paid off and he was about to reap the rewards he’d sown.

clicking the message with baited breath, his heart raced as bokuto’s grip of his shoulder tightened. finally.

‘the label on your shirt is sticking out, make sure to cut it’

“a wins a win.” bokuto filled the silence between the pair as kuroo stared at his phone with a blank expression. “… a wins a win…”

[harrysfolklore]

yn piastri fretting over oscar’s broken rib and oscar’s like, “gee you’re worst than mum” & nicole’s just like, “yeah i don’t need to worry about oscar when yn’s around”

the rumors are true: i'm obsessed with writing this little scenarios

read little bitch here

"Are you absolutely sure you're comfortable? Maybe we should prop you up a bit more," you hover anxiously over Oscar, adjusting his pillow for the third time in as many minutes." Oh, and do you need more ice? I can run and get some. Actually, should we call the doctor again? Just to double-check everything's okay?"

"YN, I'm fine," Oscar groans, "It's just a broken rib, not the end of the world. I'll be racing in Hungary next weekend anyway."

"What? No, absolutely not!" your eyes widen in alarm. "You can't race with a broken rib, Oscar. That's insane!"

Oscar rolls his eyes dramatically. "It's cracked, not broken. And I've been cleared by the medical team," he stresses, "You're worse that mum sometimes."

From her seat in the corner, Nicole chuckles. "Oh yeah, I don't even have to worry about you when your sister is around. She's got the overprotective mother role covered."

"Thanks, Mum," you say, turning to her. "My therapist has great opinions about it. She says my anxiety comes from a place of love."

"Yeah, well, your love is suffocating me right now," Oscar snorts.

"Osc, I'm just worried about you," you stressed again, "It's too dangerous. What if you crash? What if your rib punctures a lung? What if-"

"What if aliens invade during the race?" Oscar interrupts, mimicking your concerned tone. "What if a meteor hits the track? What if I suddenly forget how to drive?"

"This isn't funny, Oscar! I'm serious!"

"So am I! Carlos nearly drove with a burst appendix, and he was fine!"

Carlos, who's been quietly watching the siblings' back-and-forth like a tennis match, pipes up. "Well, 'fine' might be stretching it. I was in quite a bit of pain, actually."

You whirled on Carlos, who suddenly looked very interested in the ceiling. "Oh, don't even get me started on that piece of stupidity!"

"In my defense," Carlos cleared his throat awkwardly. "I didn't actually race…"

"Only because the team had more sense than you did!" you exclaimed.

"Back when you pretended to hate Carlos but you were at the edge of your seat worrying the entire time he was at the hospital," Oscar teased, making you roll your eyes.

"That's not the point right now," you crosses your arms over your chest, glaring at Oscar. "We're talking about your safety, not my past… concerns."

"Oh, but I think it is relevant," Oscar grins mischievously, sensing an opportunity. "Remember how you kept texting the group chat every five minutes when Carlos was in the hospital? 'Just being a decent human being,' you said. As if we couldn't see right through you."

You feel your cheeks heat up, aware of Carlos' gaze on you. "That's... that's completely irrelevant," you stammer.

"Is that so, hermosa?" Carlos chuckles softly, moving to stand beside you. "I didn't know you cared so much back then."

You shoot Carlos a look that's half embarrassment, half exasperation. "Don't you start. And you," you turn back to Oscar, pointing an accusing finger, "stop trying to change the subject. We're talking about your cracked rib and your ridiculous idea to race with it."

Nicole, who's been watching the exchange with poorly concealed amusement, decides to intervene. "Alright, kids, let's all take a breath. YN, honey, I understand you're worried. But Oscar's right - he's been cleared by the medical team. They wouldn't let him race if it wasn't safe."

"But-" you start to protest, only to be cut off by Oscar.

"No buts," he says firmly. "I appreciate the concern, sis, I really do. But this is my job, and sometimes it comes with risks. I promise I'll be careful, okay?"

You sigh, feeling your resolve weaken. "Fine. But I swear, Oscar, if you so much as wince during that race, I'm storming the track myself."

"Now that I'd pay to see. YN vs. Formula 1 security," Carlos jokes, "My money's on you, mi amor."

As you and Oscar continue to bicker, your mom and Carlos exchange amused glances. Carlos leans towards her, speaking in a low voice.

"Has YN always been like this?" he asks, a fond smile playing on his lips as he watches you fuss over Oscar.

"Oh, you have no idea," Nicole chuckles softly. "This is actually quite mild compared to when they were kids. There was this one time when Oscar was about seven, and he fell off his bike. Scraped his knee pretty badly. YN, who was ten at the time, went into full nurse mode."

"What did she do?" Carlos raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Well," she continues, "She insisted on 'quarantining' Oscar in his room for a week, claiming he needed complete bed rest. She even made a 'Do Not Disturb: Patient Recovering' sign for his door. Poor Oscar was going stir-crazy by day two, but YN wouldn't let him leave. She brought him all his meals, read him stories, everything."

Carlos can't help but laugh at the image. "That sounds exactly like something she would do."

"Oh, it gets better," Nicole grins. "When I finally convinced her that Oscar was fine to go outside, she insisted on wrapping him in bubble wrap before he could ride his bike again. Said it was 'necessary protective gear'. Oscar looked like a little astronaut waddling down the street."

Their laughter catches your attention, and you pause in your debate with Oscar about the dangers of racing with a cracked rib. "What's so funny?" you ask suspiciously.

Before Nicole can respond, Oscar, catching on to the conversation, groans dramatically. "Oh god, Mum, please tell me you're not telling the bubble wrap story."

Your eyes widen in realization, and you feel a blush creeping up your neck. "Mum! You promised never to mention that again!"

Carlos, still chuckling, wraps an arm around your waist. "I think it's adorable, hermosa. You've always been a protector."

"Well control your girlfriend! She's trying to bubble wrap me again, I swear!"

"I am not! Although..." you trail off, a mischievous glint in your eye, "it's not a bad idea for the race. Extra padding couldn't hurt, right?"

"YN, no!"

[fastandcarlos]

Restless Baby : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: 1.1k words of dad and husband max trying to fix the angsty mess that he's made

A hum of confusion came from Max as he tapped the space beside him, expecting to feel your figure. Instead he was slapped by the harsh cold of your empty space, the chill in the air leaving Max shivering. He knew bed was where you needed to be, especially with your pregnancy so close to the end.

He slowly sat himself up, brushing his hands over the front of his face. Max steadily stood up, noticing a faint glow of light coming from the doorway. He knew it was you, but he was confused as to what you were still doing up. 2:07 the clock informed him, definitely time for you to be resting. Max crept through the house, moving down the stairs to try and find where you were.

Fast asleep.

Max was almost relieved to see you resting until he noticed how uncomfortable you looked. The guilt struck him as soon as he took you in, knowing that your decision to sleep on the cold, battered sofa was all down to him.

Unlucky for Max, you weren’t quite as asleep as he thought you were. You could hear him moving through the room, desperately trying to keep your eyes screwed shut in an attempt to convince Max that you really were asleep and for him to leave you alone. He knew you better though, and knew exactly the way to try and catch you out too.

His head shook as he took a few quiet steps towards you, poking his finger against your arm that hung out from the blanket you had draped over you. Your body jumped at his sudden touch, confident you could hear Max giggling proudly to himself as he sat down beside your figure, giving you a moment to rub the sleep out of your eyes and tilt your head to look across at him.

“This is ridiculous,” Max told you, resting his arm just above your head.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you huffed, pulling the blanket further around your body, making sure that your bump was well protected and warm.

“Just come and join me in bed.”

Your head shook defiantly back at Max. “Why would I share a bed with the man who says I’m distracting his career because he can’t get a good night’s sleep with all my fidgeting. I’m giving you what you wanted right now, what’s the problem?” You snapped. Max flinched at your harsh tone, he knew what he’d said was probably the worst thing that he could say, and he knew he had a whole world of making up to do too.

“According to my data I got three hours of sleep last night, my coaches are really concerned as to what’s going on!”

“You try being seven months pregnant and see how it easy it is to rest at night, I’m sorry life is so difficult for you Max.”

“At least you can rest most of the day!”

“Wow Max!”

“My lack of sleep is starting to effect my performance and I can’t let that happen, my career is important and you wriggling around most of the night is really starting to impact that!” Max yelled back, stopping as soon as he realised what he had said. Your eyes fell to the floor as you took a moment to process what he had said, sticking the blame on you as if you wanted to sleep restlessly and enjoyed not being able to let your husband rest at night. “Babe, I-“

“Don’t even try and apologise, I can’t believe you’re making me feel guilty for growing our child, I’m sorry it’s all just such an inconvenience.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, you know I don’t feel that way,” Max tried to argue, but your mind was already made up, his true feelings really were now known.

“You go to bed Max, I’ll give you the space that your precious career needs,” you told him, pushing him in the direction of your bedroom. He let his feet go, knowing arguing with you was pointless, hoping you’d follow behind him.

“I don’t know what I was thinking when I said what I said earlier love.”

Max’s hand slowly reached out and hovered over the top of your bump, smiling to himself as he admired just how big your baby was getting.

“My career is important, but you and the baby mean so much more to me. I was insensitive and rude, my priorities weren’t straight. I know it’s hard for you, and I really do completely understand how difficult being pregnant is,” Max whispered.

Your hand slowly moved across your bump, resting your fingers just over the top of Max’s.

“No one wants for me to sleep peacefully more than me,” you informed him.

“I know,” he smiled, shuffling closer towards you. “I’m so proud of you, you’re coping so well, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel anything different.”

“You’re an idiot sometimes, you know?”

“I do,” Max chuckled as he saw the first hint of a smile on your face. “I’m stupid, selfish and a massive ass sometimes, but that doesn’t stop me being so in love with you and our baby. You have no idea how excited I am for our future together babe.”

You hummed in agreement with Max, “I do, I’ve heard all those interviews you did in Miami last weekend.”

“Seeing as you’re talking to me again, is there a chance you might come and join me in bed again too? It’s horrible being in there without you,” Max smirked, extending his hand out for you to take.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you teased, taking Max’s hand and allowing his other arm to wrap around you and help you off of the sofa.

“Can I get that in writing too?” Max grinned as you started walking.

Your head shook as he supported you all the way back to the bedroom, easing you down and placing the duvet gently over your body.

“Max, reckon you could sleep if I laid in your side?” You whispered, surprised by just how cold your spot was after you left it abandoned for so long.

“Of course,” he replied without even having to think, lifting his arm up and inviting you into the warmth beside him.

“Is this alright for you?”

“I promise, it’s more than alright for me.”

Whether he slept well for the rest of the night or not, it didn’t matter to Max, just as long as he had you back by his side.

And if his data was rubbish, well, his coaches would just have to deal with it.

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[pucksandpower]

Couples Therapy

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: let’s go to couples therapy and see how long it takes the therapist to realize we don’t know each other

You fidget nervously in the waiting room chair, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. This has to be the most ridiculous first date idea ever …but then again, Lando was never one for convention.

The office door swings open and a smiling middle-aged woman in a cardigan beckons you both inside. “Y/N? Lando? I’m Dr. Ramanujan, please come in.”

Lando shoots you a mischievous grin and you can’t help but return it as you follow the therapist into her office. This is already off to a delightfully silly start.

“So,” Dr. Ramanujan settles into her chair, notepad at the ready. “What brings you two in today?”

You open your mouth but Lando beats you to it. “Well doc, it’s like this — Y/N and I have been together for five years now but things have gotten … sticky, you might say.”

You fight back a surprised laugh at his casual lie. Five years? You met this lunatic ten days ago.

Nodding solemnly, you play along. “Yes, unfortunately some issues have arisen that we haven’t been able to resolve on our own.”

“I see,” the therapist jots something down. “And what would you say is the primary issue troubling your relationship?”

Lando strokes his chin in mock contemplation. “You know, now that I think about it, we really struggle with intimacy.”

You splutter, cheeks flushing red. He did not just go there on a first date!

“We’re very passionate people,” he continues effortlessly. “But I think we both have some hang-ups that stop us from really connecting, you know?”

Clearing your throat, you decide to steer into the skid. “Yes, you could say Lando is quite … insatiable in that area.”

Dr. Ramanujan’s eyebrows shoot up but she simply nods. “I see, I see. And how does that make you feel, Y/N?”

“Honestly?” You shrug helplessly. “Exhausted. The man is completely relentless — it’s like he’s an animal sometimes!”

Lando clutches his chest in feigned offense. “An animal? That’s a bit much, don’t you think darling?”

“Don’t you ‘darling’ me,” you snap, pushing aside your amusement at the increasingly absurd situation. “I’m just calling it like I see it. We’re here for honesty, right?”

“Touché,” Lando turns back to the therapist. “Doc, maybe you could help us find … a compromise of sorts? Because my needs are evidently not being met.”

You scoff loudly. “Not being met? Lando, I let you do that thing with the-”

Mercifully, Dr. Ramanujan interjects before you can continue that train of thought. “Perhaps we could steer our discussion in a more productive direction? Intimacy issues often stem from deeper underlying problems within a relationship. Is there anything else concerning you both?”

Lando ponders this for a moment before snapping his fingers. “You know what? I think a big part of it is that Y/N doesn’t trust me.”

“I don’t trust you?” You echo incredulously. “That’s rich coming from you, Mr. I Flirt With My Teammate Constantly!“

His jaw drops perfectly. “You’re bringing Oscar into this? That’s a low blow, babe.”

“I’m not blind!” You shoot back, doing your best to ignore how silly you both must look. “I see how cozy you two get. Tell me there’s nothing there and I’m a fool!”

“Woah, woah!” Lando holds up his hands defensively. “Oscar and I are just good friends and teammates. Nothing more.”

You cross your arms stubbornly. “If you say so.”

An uncomfortable silence falls over the room. Dr. Ramanujan seems perplexed by your crazy banter.

Finally, she clears her throat. “Right. Well, it sounds like there are some potential trust issues at play here that we should unpack-”

“Oh I’ll unpack it for you, doc!” Lando interjects, real passion entering his voice now. “Y/N is massively, astronomically insecure about our relationship. She questions my faithfulness at every turn!”

You swivel to face him fully, eyes wide. “And why, pray tell, would I possibly be insecure about that?”

“I don’t know!” He throws his hands up in exasperation. “I’ve never given you a single real reason to doubt me!”

“Except for all the pet names and inappropriate touching with Oscar!”

“Those are just friendly gestures!”

“Keep telling yourself that, buddy!”

The two of you are practically shouting at each other now, completely absorbed in your make-believe argument. Somewhere in the back of your mind you feel a bit bad for putting the poor therapist through this, but you’re having far too much fun to stop.

Dr. Ramanujan finally cuts in, raising her palms. “Okay! Okay, let’s all just take a breath, shall we?”

You and Lando freeze mid-rant, remembering where you are. He shoots you a conspiratorial wink and you have to bite your lip to suppress a smile.

“Now,” the therapist continues once the tension has diffused slightly. “Clearly there are some deep-seated resentments and triggers being hit here that we need to unravel. But I think a lot of it comes back to the intimacy and trust issues we were discussing earlier. Y/N, would you say you feel emotionally fulfilled by Lando?”

You ponder this for a moment, drawing out the suspense. Lando watches you with bated breath.

Finally, you sigh deeply. “No doc, I can’t say that I do. And maybe that’s why I’ve been so tempted to stray myself ...”

Lando’s jaw drops perfectly again. “You’ve been tempted to cheat? With who?”

Holding his gaze boldly, you declare: “My yoga instructor, actually.”

“Shane?” He looks like you just slapped him. “But he’s so … so bland!”

You shrug nonchalantly. “What can I say? Opposites attract sometimes.”

Dr. Ramanujan looks like she’s watching a tennis match, unable to get a word in edgewise.

Lando points an accusatory finger at you. “This is unbelievable! You had the audacity to blame me for the intimacy issues earlier when all this time you’ve been lusting after another man?”

“I’m a woman of insatiable needs!” You cry, borrowing his phrasing from earlier. “You said it yourself!”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” He turns desperately back to the therapist. “Please doc, you have to help us!”

She blinks owlishly a few times before finding her voice. “I … I’m not sure I can be of much assistance here.”

Lando clutches at his chest dramatically. “No, don’t say that! Our relationship is hanging by a thread as it is.”

“If it’s even still a relationship,” you mumble darkly, inspecting your nails with affected nonchalance.

“You see?” Lando pleads with the doctor. “This is what I’m dealing with every day! The constant barbs and lack of trust! I’m at my wit’s end.”

Dr. Ramanujan’s eyes dart between the two of you, seeming to deflate a little more after each deranged declaration. She sets her notepad aside with a resigned sigh.

“Listen, you two ...” she begins carefully. “While I appreciate you being upfront about your ...” she pauses, clearly searching for the right word, “unique situation, I’m afraid it goes well beyond my abilities as a therapist.”

You simply blink at her innocently while Lando dissolves into feigned hysterics beside you.

“But you have to help us!” He cries, flinging himself backwards dramatically. “Our relationship is the only thing I have left!”

You can’t help but let out a small giggle at his antics, quickly disguising it as a cough when the therapist shoots you a look. Dr. Ramanujan just shakes her head slowly.

“I’m sorry, but I clearly don’t have the tools or expertise to assist with … whatever this is.” She gestures vaguely between the two of you. “My advice would be to seek a different form of counseling. Or perhaps … separate for a while until you both figure out what you want.”

Lando clutches at his chest, feigning heartbreak. “Separate? Doc, you can’t be serious!”

“I’m afraid I am,” Dr. Ramanujan states firmly, rising from her chair. “This session has become … unproductive, to put it mildly. I think we should call it a day.”

You open your mouth to protest staying in character, but the defeated look on the poor therapist’s face gives you pause. With a sidelong glance at Lando, you decide to put her out of her misery.

Rising from your own seat, you loop your arm through Lando’s and favor the bewildered doctor with your most winning smile.

“You’re probably right, doc. We’ll, uh, take some time and really think things over. Thanks for your … insight today.”

Dr. Ramanujan simply nods, seemingly too drained to even reply as she opens the door and gestures you both through.

The second you’re out in the hallway, you can’t contain your laughter anymore. You dissolve into a fit of giggles, doubling over and clutching at Lando’s arm for support. He joins in instantly, that mischievous grin stretched wide across his face.

“Oh my god,” you gasp between peals of laughter. “Did you see her face when I brought Oscar into it?”

“I thought she was going to kick us out then and there!” Lando howls, wiping away a mirthful tear. “The things we put that poor woman through ...”

You finally manage to regain your composure, still grinning madly at the ridiculousness of it all. Leave it to Lando to come up with a first date idea as wonderfully insane as fake couples therapy.

“We should do something normal for our next date,” you quip, shooting him a sly look. “Like go skydiving or swimming with sharks.”

Lando matches your playful tone, draping an arm around your shoulders as you meander away from the office. “Whatever you say, darling. Just promise me you won’t leave me for one of the skydiving instructors, yeah?”

You pull him closer with a laugh. “No promises, babe.”

[txt-trash]

feelings for you | choi soobin

summary: after catching his roommate and his girlfriend making out, Choi Soobin’s life has been in an awkward standstill where he can’t decide if he should still be upset or move on. never one for confrontation, he still works with his ex girlfriend whose suddenly interested in him again all because he’s shown interest in another girl—his new roommate.

➣genre/au: roommate!soobin x roommate!y/n [she/her. female anatomy]

➣19.3k words

warnings: smut. kinda fluff. soobin is a barista. college grads. oc is soobin’s new roommate. one instant of fake dating. soobin is a whiny drunk. soobin’s cheating ex tries to get him back. soobin and oc friends. cute soobin but he’s a switch. dom soobin in the bedroom. soobin doesn’t like confrontation until the end. oral sèx [f receiving, in the kitchen 🤭] protected sèx. missionary. riding. soobin is subby post-sex. he has an unexplored boob kink. big soobin. jealous soobin but only slightly

When it comes to drama, you want no part of it. You keep your circle small and try not to involve yourself with things that don’t concern you but it’s been hard now that you’ve moved in with your new roommate. Originally, you thought it would be less drama to have a guy you didn’t know as a roommate, aside from the obvious worries Soobin had seemed perfect.

He was quiet and a bit shy but he seemed to have good intentions. You’ve heard him through the thin walls and he laughs when he watches something funny or talks on the phone but he’s not obnoxiously loud. He cleans up after himself and gives you your space so this first week has been good.

You’ve recently started rooming together when you answered his ad in search of a roommate and you’re starting to understand why he was looking for one in the first place.

“So she just dumped you?” You asked, unable to help yourself from being nosy. This is the first time since your first meeting that you’re sharing a conversation with him and it’s about his past relationship—evidently to thank for giving you a room for cheap.

“Basically,” Soobin said with a shrug as he stared at the television where his Nintendo Switch was connected. He was currently playing some Jujutsu Kaisen game that managed to grab your attention when you had come out of your cave for a bowl of cereal.

“That’s crazy,” you mumbled to yourself, turning away from him to wash your dishes in the sink.

Apparently, his last roommate moved out very suddenly considering he slept with Soobin’s girlfriend and things just didn’t work out.

“It’s whatever,” Soobin said, so hyper focused on his game, and saying whatever was on his mind with no attention at all, “Just sucks because I still have to work with her.”

“Wait!” You dropped what you were doing, rushing over to where he was and standing in front of the tv, “So you’re saying you still have to see your cheating ex girlfriend who slept with your roommate at work?”

“Yeah,” Soobin said, making you shake your head in disbelief. Still thinking about his sheer bad luck, you finally left him to his game and retreated to your bedroom to wallow in self pity like usual.

It was all too much to talk about for Soobin. His relationship only lasted about six months but he still can’t believe she slept with his roommate. He thought they all had become good friends but to find out she’s secretly going to his roommate’s bedroom while he’s at work. She would come over and stay while he would leave to work and while he thought she was waiting for him to get home, she’s letting his roommate stick it to her! The audacity, honestly, to do that in his home is ridiculous but thankfully his name was the one on the lease and he got to kick the guy out.

At first it was strange to have a girl move in with him considering he’s only ever roomed with guys and he was supposed to be in his ‘I Hate Woman’ era but you’ve turned out to be better than he expected. Of course it’s only been a few days but you both seem to be hyper aware of the fact that this is something new for the both of you. At least he won’t have to worry about you sleeping with his next girlfriend… or does he?

For another hour or so, Soobin played his game, completely engrossed that not even the pounding on the door for two solid minutes broke him from his trance. It wasn’t until you stormed out of your bedroom once again and headed right to the front door did he realize the person at the door was here for him.

You looked at the guy in front of you, a bit stunned to speak at how attractive he was and for a moment the two of you just stood there looking stupefied. The guy took a step back into the hallway and read the number on the wall which was sure enough his best friend’s apartment.

“What are you doing here?” Soobin asked, suddenly appearing behind you with a hand on the door above your head. Once you acknowledged that this stranger was here for your roommate you quietly made your leave, unaware of the new pair of eyes trailing after you.

“There you go, I didn’t know you had it in you to bounce back so fast,” Yeonjun said, looking to your closed door, “And with a baddie at that!”

“What are you talking about? She’s my new roommate,” Soobin said letting his best friend follow him to his bedroom so the two of them wouldn’t be in the living room and possibly make you uncomfortable. “And what are you doing here?”

“I came to cheer you up, I know its been a rough two weeks and I didn’t want you to think I left you at your lowest,” Yeonjun said, flopping himself down on the beanbag in the corner of Soobin’s room. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a couple bottles of Soju. Soobin released a sigh as he checked the time and read how late it was, “First of all it’s a weekday, second I’m not at my lowest.”

“Right… that’s the Denial stage of grief, don’t worry friend, you don’t have to lie to me, I know you,” Yeonjun said as he got up once again and went to the door, “Remember when you lost Odi? You cried for three weeks straight—“

“That is different! Odi was the real love of my life so don’t compare this to the heartbreak I felt for my beloved child!” Soobin yelled but Yeonjun just brushed him off to leave the kitchen and find glasses—and also hopefully run into you again.

Once he was back in the room, Soobin was sniffing Odi’s old blanket for comfort.

“So are you saying your roommate is up for grabs because she really is hot,” Yeonjun asked, beginning to pour two shot glasses with peach flavored Soju. Soobin shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know and considering what happened with my last roommate, I’m not really into inner circle mixing with my friends and roommate.”

“Fair enough.”

Fresh out of school, you’ve been lucky enough to find a small job at the lowest ranking possible while still being in the world of fashion. There certainly are better things you could be doing besides running errands for your boss but as a new college grad with no experience, its not like you could expect more in the fashion world. It honestly wasn’t too bad and your boss wasn’t one of those horrendous bosses that paged their employee at all hours of the day and the pay was good enough to keep a roof over your head so there wasn’t much to complain about.

You surprisingly do have quite a bit of freedom and don’t always feel tied to your work so you’re thankful that you have time to visit your friends. Now that none of you are in school its become harder to fit time to see each other in your schedules but today you got lucky to finish a shoot early and you were able to get off sooner than usual.

Seeing Soobin’s friend the other night worked as a reminder to tell you you’re not a loser and actually have friends to visit too and that’s how you found yourself sitting next to your friend while he played Overwatch at a public game room.

Your computer screen had gone back to sleep mode after you got tired of making random SIMs characters and resorted to spinning in the rolling chair next to him. It was alright for a while but when it had been almost a full hour of this, you couldn’t take it anymore, “When you asked to hang out, I thought we would actually be doing something fun.”

“This is fun, what are you talking about?” Beomgyu asked, eyes locked on the screen making you roll your eyes. You’ve been friends since your freshman year of college so his need to pay more attention to his games than you isn’t a surprise but it is annoying—even though your roommate was kind of the same.

When you didn’t say anything, Beomgyu tried harder, “So hows the new living situation?”

“It’s alright, he seems cool and it’s cheap,” You told him, still spinning absentmindedly.

Beomgyu nodded, “Is he a weirdo? Like do I have to worry about you popping up on a missing persons ad?”

“I hope not, but let me share my location with you just in case,” you joked making him chuckle, “But honestly, he seems like a good guy. It was kind of weird at first since it all seemed rushed so i was obviously worried but he explained why and its all good now”

“Spill the tea, why was he in a hurry to find a roommate?” Beomgyu asked, visibly more interested in your story than before, but still gaming.

“His girlfriend slept with his roommate when he was at work,” You said making Beomgyu gasp dramatically.

“Whoa, what a bitch,” he said, “I would’ve fought my roommate.”

“And you would’ve lost too,” you said to him making him kick your chair causing it to roll back a bit. Your laughter began to slowly die down when you felt the vibrations of your ringing cellphone. You checked the caller, surprised to see the man in question’s name on your screen.

“Hello?”

“Have I ever told you you’re the best roommate I’ve ever had?” Immediately you were taken back by the brightness in his voice. He was obviously being dramatic and you could practically hear the favor he’s going to ask.

“Well it’s not like I have a lot of competition, right?” You asked, hearing the line go silent for a moment making you wonder if you shouldn’t have said that.

Soobin rolled his eyes but wasn’t mad, “Right… So can you do me a favor? I have to meet up with some friends right after work but my phone is about to die and I don’t have a charger. Is there any way you can bring one to my work?”

You thought about it for a moment, “Nobody has one you can borrow?”

“Yes, but there’s no way I’m asking her for it,” he said with an annoyed sigh. He’s already asked everyone and they’ve all pointed him to his ex girlfriend, “Please?”

You looked back at Beomgyu who started playing his game again, forgetting you were even beside him and with a shrug Soobin couldn’t see, you said, “I guess, I’ll be there in a bit.”

Soobin’s attempt to thank you was cut short when you hung up abruptly but he was too relieved to care and tucked his phone back into his pocket.

“Want me to ask Jia if you could borrow it?” His coworker asked when Soobin got back to the counter. He shook his head, “I’ve got someone bringing one.”

He couldn’t believe he forgot his charger and didn’t realize it until he was halfway through his shift with only 15% battery. When he went to the break room in search of his charger, he nearly lost his shit when he couldn’t find it.

At first he hoped his work bestie, Taehyun, would have one but he didn’t and the only other person to ask was his ex. Obviously he wasn’t going to ask her and although he could try and run home after his shift, unless he were to find an outlet at the place he was going with his friends, his phone would be dead anyway.

Soobin’s last resort was to see if there was any way you could just bring it to him. He left it on the entrance table and must have forgot it when he was putting his shoes on and ran out. He was pleasantly surprised that you said yes and it was such a huge relief that he wouldn’t have to ask Jia.

When you walked into the coffee shop you were immediately surrounded by warmth and the smell of espresso beans. It was the first time you ever stepped foot into this cafè but it was calm and aesthetically pleasing, somewhere you can talk with friends or do some work. You followed the scent to the front register where a girl with blonde highlights stood with a polite smile on her face.

With wandering eyes toward the menu above her head, you asked, “Is Soobin here?”

You didn’t notice how that smile fell as she looked at you a little closer and before she could even respond, your roommate came out from behind some door holding a bag of hot to-go cups.

Once Soobin saw you, his heart unintentionally leapt in relief and he quickly set the bag down to go to you. A shy smile spread across his lips, very happy you actually came, “You brought it?”

“Yes,” you said, moving to the side of the counter and closer to where he was, beginning to look through your bag for it. Soobin had his hands on the counter waiting patiently as you two stood a few feet away from where his ex was. “But it wasn’t by the door, you left it on the bed.”

You felt a little awkward to go to his room but he left the door open and you could see it on the bed. Now, you could’ve easily just leant him yours so you wouldn’t invade his privacy but you weren’t going to risk him forgetting it.

“I did?” Soobin asked with a somewhat cute tilt of his head, “Oops, I swear I left it by the door, thanks though.”

When you handed it to him, your hands accidentally touched but neither one of you thought much about it, unaware of the people behind the counter watching the interaction.

“Do you want a drink?” Soobin asked, the least he could do is give you a free drink in thanks plus when he came out he saw you eyeing the menu.

“Sure,” you looked at the menu once again before just saying, “Surprise me.”

Soobin nodded with a smile as he got to making it while you looked down at the pastries in the dessert case.

By the time he was done and gave you the drink, you were ready to leave but before you could, he said, “I won’t be home till late.”

He just meant to give you a heads up that way you knew you had the apartment to yourself and didn’t think about how it would sound to the others.

You left with a goodbye and thanks for the drink and he was left behind to deal with his ex for another three hours.

“So who was that?” Taehyun asked, suddenly popping up beside him, catching him off guard and making him scream. Soobin clutched his chest in an attempt to calm his racing heart as he looked at his friend with a dumb expression, “Who?”

Taehyun couldn’t even pretend to be amused and asked again, “The person who you were talking to like ten seconds ago.”

“Oh! That’s Y/n, she’s my new roommate,” Soobin said casually with a shrug of his shoulders.

“That’s it? I thought you had moved on already, I was impressed,” Taehyun said with a chuckle as Soobin rinsed out the froth pitcher, “I think Jia got a little worried there for a second.”

Soobin stopped as he tried to process what his friend was saying, “What do you mean?”

“I’m not gonna lie it kind of looked like the two of you had something going on at first and Jia asked me if I knew her,” Taehyun told him confidently. Jia left on her break without telling either one of them but now they’re comfortably talking without her around.

“It shouldn’t matter to her anyway,” Soobin muttered under his breath as he moved past Taehyun to help the customer in line. Why does it matter to Jia who he talks to and why does she feel the need to ask Taehyun what he knows? She cheated on him. She betrayed his trust so heavily that he doubts she ever truly cared about him so why is she acting interested or concerned?

Does it bother her to see him talking to someone despite everything she’s done?

It was a couple days later when he realized your short visit to his work which should have been in the past, wasn’t.

Like the other night, he was stuck working with Jia and he had been counting every minute that passed until the end of his shift since it started. For hours they worked and talked around each other but never intercepted even when he could feel her eyes on him.

When they closed the cafè and Soobin was ready to run home and escape her presence, she decided to speak up, “Soobin?”

For a second he debated ignoring her so he could walk straight to the bus stop and not worry about seeing her for the rest of the night. It was hard to always act unaffected as if she didn’t completely disintegrate his entire confidence and practically shove new insecurities, he never wanted to show, down his throat.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to her wordlessly, waiting to see what she had to say.

“I…” she bit her lip trying to figure out how to word her thoughts, “I… um, I just wanted to know how you were doing.”

He resisted the urge to scoff as he answered questioning, “I’m good?”

For the past few weeks he’s worked hard to act like he didn't catch Jia and his roommate kissing on his couch so why was she wanting to know now of all times?

As much as he wanted to go home, part of him wanted to see what was up. Jia met his eyes, still taken back to see his harsh gaze which was a huge contrast than the gentle stare she had grown used to in the last six months.

“That’s good,” Jia cleared her throat awkwardly, “Are you, b-by chance seeing anyone?”

The obvious look of disbelief on Soobin’s face had her rushing to explain, “I mean… the person who came to visit you the other night. Is she, yknow, are you seeing her?”

“You mean Y/n?” Soobin asked with a tilt of his head. Why was she asking about you?

Jia stood there silently trying to figure out what to say next. What was her point? What was she trying to find out by asking him that? Had she expected him to still be mourning their relationship? Does she have a right to feel worried that he’s moved on so quickly after what she did?

Before she could even try to word a shitty excuse for why she asked in the first place, Soobin had already stopped paying attention to her when he got a text.

you: ordered too much pizza

you: I’ll die if I eat more

you: pls take some

For some reason your sequence of texts brought a slight smile on his face. He put a thumbs up on the message and looked at Jia, “Night.”

He left her standing there alone as he ran home to his roommate who was slowly beginning to like more and more. He doesn’t even mean it romantically because clearly now’s not the best time for him but he likes you as a roommate and possible friend? You’ve slowly begun to help each other out and you don’t completely avoid shared spaces so you’ve been interacting a little more. He wouldn’t call you a friend just yet but you’re an easy person to live with and he doesn’t have that many people around him so it’s nice talking to you either way.

The two of you text here and there but never about anything important, usually you ask how to fix the hot water and he sends you anime reels he thinks you might enjoy. If he’s up for it, he’ll ask if you want any pastries he’s supposed to throw out.

It’s a very simple arrangement and he much preferred being with you than suffering another second with Jia where he risked asking her every question he had on why he wasn’t good enough.

It’s a very simple arrangement and he much preferred being with you than suffering another second with Jia where he risked asking her every question he had on why he wasn’t good enough.

By the time Soobin got home, you had moved from the dining room to the couch where you engrossed yourself into some animated movie laying on your side. You barely raised your head to acknowledge him but he smiled anyway as he headed to the kitchen, “Thanks for sharing.”

“No problem, I overestimated how much I could eat in one setting,” You mumbled in a tired, raspy tone, “How was work?”

Soobin didn’t bother heating up his slice, or even get a plate, and he took a big bite out of the cold pizza, walked out the kitchen to talk, “It was alright, kinda slow aside from some teens who wouldn’t stop giggling at me.”

“Question, was that girl from the other night your ex or someone else?” You asked sitting up a bit when you noticed he was trying to sit down.

“Yeah that’s her, Jin, she also asked about you tonight,” Soobin said seeing it as a joke, “Taehyun said she seemed jealous when I was talking to you.”

Your brows furrowed with confusion, “Did you tell her I was your roommate?”

He shook his head, taking a moment to chew before saying, “No, I didn’t see why it mattered.”

“True, that’s so weird,” You released a sigh, resting your elbow on the arm rest and leaning your head on your hand, “Wow, no offense but your ex girlfriend is a bitch.”

He couldn’t hide the look of surprise on his face as you said that but he couldn’t disagree—he just would’ve used kinder words. It was kind of funny though and for some reason hearing you say that made him feel better. His other friends who know about it don’t really ask and they don’t explicitly tell him to his face how they felt about his former girlfriend. It just feels nice to have someone listen and be on his side, it made him want to open up more.

“Sorry, I really don’t want to seem mean, I just think its kind of bullshit for her to act jealous because you’re talking to someone. Like, why does she care who I am or how you know me when she cheated on you,” You said, unable to help yourself from speaking your mind, “Even if I was someone you’re talking to, why is she concerned about it? Did she expect you to just always be hung on her despite what she did?”

Soobin had to think about that for a second. That’s the same thing he had originally thought too but he tried to ignore it because it seemed wrong. He thought that maybe he was reading into it too much and Jia wasn’t actually jealous but now that you’re saying it too, he can’t help but wonder. She also talked to him tonight and even at work when they didn’t speak, she was looking at him constantly. She even tried helping him once but he just blew her off to do it on his own. It’s like tonight she was trying to remind him she was still around and that confused him.

“Do you think that’s true though?” He asked. You shrugged trying not to seem too invested but it was too late. Soobin is a good guy and now that you’ve met the girl, you just can’t wrap your mind around what she did. Cheating is already a huge betrayal but to do it with someone Soobin knew and lived with? To do it in the apartment, Soobin paid for? That’s the lowest of the low.

“I honestly do.”

What you said stayed on his mind for days. It didn’t help that Jia was trying to talk to him at work and last night she looked at his instagram story despite the fact they unfollowed each other. He just doesn’t get it. What did she want with him now?

When he came into work today, there was his favorite drink in his locker that he knew was from Jia because Taehyun had told her. Thankfully he wasn’t working with her now but Taehyun had filled him in. Apparently, she came in with drinks and he saw her putting it in Soobin’s locker.

“I don’t get her,” Soobin said with a huff of frustration, “Why does she keep doing these things?”

“Honestly, she probably regrets fucking up and wants to get on your good side again,” Taehyun said as he made a hot matcha latte for a customer that Soobin was ringing up.

“But why?”

“What if she wants to get you back?” Taehyun asked as he finished the drink and handed it to the customer. He turned back to Soobin, realization hitting him like a truck and he gasped, “Oh my god. She probably thinks you’ve moved on already and wants to get you back! That’s really bold of her to think you’d fall for it, right?”

“Right. You don’t think she is though, right? Why would she cheat on me just to try and get back with me?” Soobin asked and his voice was laced with confusion.

“Because she probably thinks it’s going to work and you’ll fall for it. God I knew based off her MBTI that she was going to try something, I could see the determination in her eyes when she saw Y/n.”

Soobin couldn’t help but scoff with a laugh. Why were you the reason Jia suddenly wanted to notice him again? You and Soobin were nothing but roommates, the only time you ever talk is during your daily debriefings when you’re getting midnight snacks. You don’t text and you don’t do anything together so it’s comical that you apparently worried his ex girlfriend enough based off one interaction to try and get him back—he wouldn’t do it, he should add.

“Wait! You know what you should do?” Taehyun dropped a itcher into the sink haphazardly as the idea came to mind, “Imagine if you started dating Y/n and made it known to Jia that you’ve moved on. She’s only putting in effort again because she probably thinks she can get you back. You gotta make her think you’re over her.”

“First of all, I am over her and second, Y/n and I don’t like each other like that,” Soobin said, making Taehyun roll his eyes.

“I don’t mean like actually date, I mean… make Jia think you are that way she can back off and won’t think she has a chance,” Taehyun said.

Soobin froze, looking at his friend in disbelief. Taehyun said it so casually like what he said wasn’t a big deal at all and Soobin just couldn’t believe it. He was completely lost by the whole and after an awkward silence between the two he just shook his head feeling a blush rise in his cheeks as he said, “That is a really bad idea.”

It was an awful idea and too much work. Soobin didn’t need to prove anything to anyone and why would he make Jia believe he was over her when he knew he was? She could try and talk to him all she wants but it won’t make a difference to him, honestly. It is kind of annoying that neither Taehyun or Yeonjun believed he was over Jia and now it seems like Jia doesn’t think so too? Why else would she be making this much effort to talk to him again?

Taehyun’s words were stuck in his head now and it made no sense. Why would he drag you into his problems and why would you want to do it? You probably have things going on in your own life that there's no reason to bother you with his. Sure, you’ve been fun to talk to since you’re not his usual circle of friends but that’s it. You don’t know each other well enough to do that.

“Hey,” when he got home that night, he could tell by the tone of your voice that something was off. You were in the kitchen washing some dishes when he walked in.

“Hey,” Soobin greeted as he began taking his shoes off at the door, “How was your day?”

“It was alright. I almost cried in the bathroom because my boss yelled at me for getting her the wrong milk in her coffee,” you said with a shrug, “And yours?”

“Oh,” Soobin said, blinking slowly trying to figure out if he should ask if you were okay or just say his part. “Um, it was nice, I worked with my friend but he said the craziest thing I had ever heard and it threw me off.”

You dried your hands off with the towel and walked past him, heading to your room but still holding conversation, “What’d he say?”

“He said that I should pretend to date you,” the words completely slipped from his and the second they were said, he felt his body tense up and his face go blank. You stopped at your door, turning to look at his confused state when he suddenly rushed to say, “I mean… She’s been trying to talk lately and I don’t know what she’s doing but it’s like she thinks we can get back together.”

He bit his lip and he just couldn’t stop talking, “So, Taehyun said I needed to make her think I was over her and that I should get your help but I thought it was an awful idea. Like, I don’t need to prove anything to her if anyone else and there’s no way you would ever do something lik—I would never ask you too and I know I should stop talking about it but you asked and for some reason I always just tell you what’s going and I can’t stop, oh my god.”

He covered his face with his hands, unable to see the way a smile played on your lips at his rambling. With a deep sigh you opened your bedroom door, “Goodnight.”

He waved goodbye, still refusing to look at you and stormed to his room in embarrassment. You got in yours and laid in bed where you got on your phone and immediately told your friends.

you: I think my roommate is weird

beomgyu: why

you: idk, just strange

kai: aww, ur twinning w/him (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)

you: … ( •᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ )

beomgyu: (⸝⸝⸝◉⸝ ｡ ⸝◉⸝⸝⸝)

you: anyway, he was talking about fake dating like this is a wattpad story

kai: do it, his ex is a bitch

Lately, it’s been getting hard for Soobin to look forward to the café. It’s such a huge contrast to the work he does at his internship that going to the cafe sometimes feels relaxing and not like work at all but these past few weeks have been dreadful. It’s very hard to ignore someone who hurt you when you have to work with her. It’s a constant reminder and everyone seems to always point it out. Taehyung was right, she was trying to do something with him again and it’s becoming even more noticeable everytime he goes to work.

“Are you going to Yuna’s party this weekend?” Jia asked him. The shop had been slow so he busied himself with closing duties, hoping he could get done sooner and meet his friend.

“Probably,” Soobin answered absently.

“Oh, maybe I’ll see you there,” Jia said with a nervous laugh, “I gotta be honest, Soobin it’s strange being so distant.”

Soobin scoffed, looking at her in disbelief. What was wrong with her and why did she act like there isn’t a cause for this distance.

Just as he was debating telling her how he felt, the bell above the door chimed and they both got ready to greet them with a customer service smile. His soon turned into a real smile despite his confusion at the surprise, “What are you doing here?”

“I want coffee?” Your tone was questioning but light as you got to the counter, trying not to look at the girl again.

It’s been a bit awkward since Soobin made that weird comment the other night but you’re tired of acting bothered by it. It was harmless and your friends thought it was funny [ and a good idea? ] but you just thought it was bizarre. You think it’s strange and although you wanted to avoid Soobin it’s very hard when you get to know him. He’s kind of cute actually—not looks wise but personality wise.

“Nice,” Soobin said with a nod of his head although he made no move to ring you up or make you a drink. You looked from him down to the register, “Can I order yet?”

“Oh, yes,” he cleared his throat awkwardly and waited for you to say something. Once he rang up your drink, he gave a discount and left to make it while you paid.

Honestly, he thought you were mad at him for what he said. He still has no idea why he brought up what Taehyun said but the way you ignored him let him know it was a mistake at the time. He’s been worried for days that he crossed the line but now you’re here talking to him like everything is normal. It makes him feel better.

You could feel Jia’s eyes on you and this time around it bothered you. Why was she glaring at you like you were the problem? You don’t even know her and it’s very obvious there’s nothing between you and Soobin. Why would it matter to her if there was or wasn’t?

“Are you off already?” Soobin asked handing you your drink over the counter.

You nodded, “Kind of? I still have some stuff to finish up but the WiFi at home is lagging.”

“Just work here then,” Soobin said motioning toward the tables, “Connect to the internet and keep me company.”

“How? You’re working,” you pointed out.

“Nobody’s here,” Soobin said, completely dismissing Jia, “Please?”

Now that he knows you’re not bothered by him it’s been like a confidence boost to try and befriend you again. He just needed the assurance that you weren’t going to ditch him and move out so for you to come and talk to him felt good. He was worried he scared you off.

With a dramatic sigh, you pretended to give in, “Oh, I guess I could do that. I’ll just stay a bit.”

“Or you could stay till I’m off and we can go home together,” Soobin said but the sound of the espresso machine grumbling stole your attention instead. Jia was cleaning it already and had no problem cutting your conversation short with the loudness of it.

She was clearly annoyed with you being here and you just couldn’t understand it. Why was she so mad when she’s the one who ruined her relationship with Soobin? Soobin deserved so much better and it annoys you that she’s the one upset now.

“Maybe, who knows if I want to wait that long,” you said playfully, watching him leave the counter to talk to you. You were the only one in the shop and he didn’t care either way, you’re his saving grace from spending this last hour with Jia trying to talk to him.

“Please? I’ll buy you food on the way,” he said, feeling your eyes on him.

He wore a cream colored crew neck and light washed baggy jeans, a brown apron tied at his waist and even his glasses tonight. You don’t see him in his glasses often so it was a nice surprise, “Alright, you got me. I’ll stay.”

What really made you decide on staying wasn’t his begging or his offer to buy you food but it was actually knowing he probably wanted to avoid any more alone time with his ex. You already pitied the guy’s circumstances and you couldn’t just leave him to suffer while he begged for your help.

So you stayed, you had to remind Soobin every now and then to get back to work when he would lose track of time telling you whatever was on his mind and forget a customer was around. Jia did not acknowledge you at all, not until the very end when she came up to you and with a snarky tone said, “Heads up, we close in ten minutes.”

“Okay,” you flashed her a polite but strained smile, “I’m just waiting for Soobin.”

“I know, but you’ll have to leave when we’re closing,” she said bluntly.

“Really? Thanks for the heads up,” you put your headphones back on and turned your attention to your laptop, making it known you weren’t going to talk to her anymore and with a slight roll of her eyes, she left.

After a minute or so, you closed your laptop and put your things away. You got up from the table as Soobin was coming out with things he was planning on restocking and when he saw you get up, he practically dropped it all to go to you, “What are you doing?”

“I’m just going to wait outside,” you said with a shrug, slinging your backpack over your shoulders.

“Bu—“

“Soobin, can you start cleaning out the espresso machines?” Jia asked with an annoyed tone and with a huff in irritation, he watched you make your leave till he was alone once again.

He didn’t bother talking to her as he finished up his chores and the cafè was filled with an uncomfortable silence the remainder of the time. He’s been cleaning all evening but Jia wants to remind him about the espresso machines just because she sees him talking to you. It’s crazy and Soobin doesn’t know how to speak up.

He has so much he wants to say but then he gets worried he’s being rude or overthinking things that he ends up just staying silent anyway. That’s probably why his relationship with Jia was so rocky from the beginning—and also why he didn't argue when he caught her. He just doesn’t want to be in uncomfortable situations.

You had honestly debated just going home despite Soobin wanting you to stay. It was freezing cold out and you only had a thin sweater that did nothing to keep you warm. You had every right to just go home but he asked you so nicely and Jia was kind of rude when she tried kicking you out and it makes your pettiness want to show through.

When Soobin and Jia finally finished closing, she waited around while she locked the door looking like she had something to say but he wouldn’t even turn to look at her. Instead, he looked around for you, worried you had left already but he found you sitting on the curb, surprising him in the process. Jia didn’t seem to see you there either and it was hard for her to hide the look of displeasure when you got up.

“So what are you feeding me?” You asked, hugging your arms around yourself to fight off the cold wind from the winter air. Soobin didn’t hesitate to take off his jacket, leaving him only in a crewneck and pulling it around you.

“Something warm?” He asked, looking at the tip of your nose which was a deep shade of red. The two of you left without so much as a goodbye and when you were out of earshot he added, “Also, thanks for waiting. I thought you would’ve left and now I feel bad that you had to wait outside. I would’ve said something but you were already leaving and I assumed you got mad and went home.”

“I was going to,” you said honestly as he held the door open to some Korean hotpot tent restaurant, “But I decided against it. Also, I’ve got something to say.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, sitting down at a table across from you.

“I can tell you struggle a little bit speaking your mind and she talks to you like she still has a say over what you do,” you said to him, “And she was kind of rude? Like, she didn’t say anything mean to me but it’s obvious she doesn’t like me for talking to you and I don’t think that’s fair. So, is there any way we can make her know you don’t want her without you having to tell her harshly?”

It took him a moment to process everything you had said in such a short time and he wondered if you had said anything at all. Maybe he imagined you saying that because it’s been in his mind lately and he couldn’t see what you would gain anything from it so why would you help him?

He should just tell you it’s not something you have to do. If you were to go along with a charade just so that it looks like he’s moved on from his ex. He knows he has, he just can’t be mean. All he can do is ignore her but that doesn’t seem to be stopping Jia from approaching him. No, it still doesn’t mean he has to drag you into something useless.

“Well, there’s a party this weekend that I know she’ll be at.”

Pulling it off was harder than you had originally thought and there’s very specific reasons for this.

One, appearing as anything aside from friends or roommates was hard considering you were still at an awkward stage of friendship. You knew Soobin and how he looked in the mornings but you’ve no clue what his favorite movie is or favorite color or even his zodiac sign. You knew his ex girlfriend was a cheating bitch but you don’t know what his internship is or what his major was in college so when someone at the party asked you things about Soobin… you had no idea what to say.

Two, you’re not sure if the chemistry is there. So far, you don’t think you’re pulling it off. Sure, Soobin has remained at your side since the two of you got here but you think you both look stiff and nervous. Even when someone expects him to introduce you, it feels weird and you’re not sure how close you’re supposed to seem.

“You two suck,” Taehyun said [the first time he had ever spoken to you too], “Put some flavor into this. Hold hands, act cute, give me emotion because I can tell you right now, Jia won’t think she’s got competition.

Soobin rolled his eyes, “Shh, this is harder than we thought it would be— a-nd it’s not about competition.”

“Really? Because Yuna asked me who you brought because Jia was asking her, something about you not wanting to talk to her?” Taehyun said with a chuckle, “It’s like she’s completely forgotten what happened.”

You hadn’t spoken up once this entire time but Soobin was beginning to look visibly uncomfortable talking about his ex in a crowded place. Usually he’s open when you’re at home and you’re the only one listening to him but right now he keeps glancing around anxiously.

“Should we get a drink?” You asked him suddenly, watching him nod his head eagerly in an attempt to leave his friend who said too many things he didn’t want to hear right now.

“Sorry for him, he just says things sometimes and—“

“It’s alright,” you laughed softly, making your way to the kitchen where the countertop was filled with various bottles. Soobin was right behind you, not wanting to lose you in the crowd.

He doesn’t understand you. You’re so nice to him and he doesn’t know what to make of it. You don’t question him or make him talk when he doesn’t want to. You seem to have some understanding of what he wants and he doesn’t even have to tell you anything.

He knows you’re just helping him out so he doesn’t look like a sore loser at a party he knows his ex-girlfriend is at but for the moment, he wants to forget Jia is here. Can he just have one night where his past relationship isn’t brought up by Taehyun or Yeonjun or anybody else? Can he just pretend like the two of you are here as friends just hanging out and not because you somewhat pitied his circumstances?

“You look pretty tonight,” the words slipped before he could stop himself and he immediately turned red in embarrassment, “I mean… yknow…”

“Thanks,” you said casually as you filled a cup of whatever interested you, “I actually put in effort, just for you.”

You didn’t think much about what you said even though you could see the blush in his cheeks. It was a bit surprising actually. At first, you thought Soobin was just some distant gamer you shared an apartment with but little by little you’ve gotten to know him more. He’s still shy like you first assumed but he’s also kind of cute, as a friend you mean. It would be weird to think of him as anything but that considering what he’s gone through lately.

He couldn’t help but smile, trying to hide it by biting his lower lip but his dimple still showed through and for a second he just stood there looking at you. You handed him a drink and as he opened his mouth to say something else, a familiar feminine voice came from behind him.

“Soobin? Is this where you’ve been hiding all night?” Yuna asked as she entered the kitchen with a smile, “I kept hearing everyone say you were here but I couldn’t find you. Hey buddy.”

“Hey Yuna,” Soobin said with a smile. Yuna was one of the few other baristas from work and someone he did enjoy working with. She was bubbly and nice so they got along easily but she’s more friends with Jia than him. He still can’t tell if she knew Jia cheated on him or not and he hasn’t bothered saying anything. She knew something happened to make them break up but neither have gone into it for different reasons. He didn’t want to tell the whole world he was cheated on and Jia didn’t want to seem like the lying cheater she was.

“This is Y/n,” Soobin said suddenly, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward his side, “She’s my uh, um…”

“Friend,” you said, emphasizing on the word that it sounded like it had a double meaning and he couldn’t tell if you did it on purpose. Did you mean friend, like how he’s friends with Yeonjun and Taehyun? Or did you mean, friend, like something more?

While he tried to decipher it, Yuna seemed to pick up on the tone much faster than he did and her smile strained slightly. “Really? That’s, uh, that’s great. Have you seen Jia yet?”

“Who?” You asked Soobin, looking cutely confused, feigning innocence as you touched his arm.

“The girl from work,” Soobin said despite you already knowing. The room began to feel hot as Yuna stared at you and Soobin couldn’t take the heat. He didn’t like the way it seemed like she was trying to pick you apart with her eyes—probably seeing if there was anything she should tell Jiw and he couldn’t take it. It had him taking big sips of his drink to satiate his dry mouth, completely ignoring the heavy taste of alcohol.

“Binnie,” your use of a nickname nearly sent him in a spiral, it was the first time you’ve ever called him as such and there was a possibility it was all for show.

“Yeah?” He cleared his throat awkwardly, ignoring Yuna to turn to you.

“Don’t drink so fast, okay?” Concern was evident in your tone but you didn’t seem displeased. You just worried about having to haul a 6-foot-something drunk man back to your apartment when he wasn’t your boyfriend.

He looked down at his empty cup, realizing he really did chug back the full drink quickly and the thought alone made him dizzy. He’s usually good at knowing his limit but he’s been nervous all night. When you first got here he got a drink that emptied out right after he saw Taehyun for the first time. It was before Taehyun had even approached you two because he was in the middle of some game but it made Soobin nervous. He had to tell his friend ahead of time that he was bringing you but then the thought of Taehyun saying something he should had him anxious and he chugged his drink then too.

Now, Yuna’s here bringing up Jia once again and on top of that you’ve called him a friend but your tone sounded different than usual and you held his arm and called him Binnie—and it all just became too much.

What was wrong with him?

“Soobin?” You said his name a little while after the kitchen encounter and you sounded so distant despite standing right next to him. Just by looking at him, you could tell he was at least tipsy.

His cheeks were flushed, his eyes a bit lazy and he just seemed less stiff than earlier. He’s also leaning into you a bit, no longer caring who saw or what people thought of it but more so for a sense of comfort as his vision blurred with the alcohol in his system. “Hm?”

“You okay?” You asked as he blinked slowly, “You don’t seem as nervous anymore.”

“Oh! Um,” he looked down at you and how close the two of you had grown, making him grin, “I’m fine, I’m with you.”

“Okay… but let me know when you’re ready to call it a night,” you said with a small yawn and he couldn’t help but look to your lips, blinking away the thought as you pressed your lips closed and looked off in the distance.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts a bit but right now everything seemed fuzzy. The night had been fine at first. He hadn’t been nervous at all and was actually a bit excited to get a chance to hang out with you [aside from the night you stopped to get food] and he had been thinking on how it would go all day.

When the two of you got to the party he had met up with Taehyun and he had a good time with him too so the only time he ever felt uncomfortable was when he was reminded of the situation. Talking about Jia didn’t bother him as much as the reminder that everyone knew about it did. On top of that, anytime someone looked at you or asked who you were, he would get nervous. He doesn’t know what’s going on with him.

Just as you were going to ask him one more time if he was okay, you felt a sudden weight pressed against your shoulder as Soobin leaned into your side. He felt heavy against your arm and his head dipped low enough that his face was pressing into yours, “I think I’m ready.”

“Ready?” You ask, feeling your heart race as the warmth of his breath fanned your neck and his hand brushed against yours like he was debating reaching for yours. When you looked at him, it was finally noticeable that whatever he drank tonight had taken effect and he was finally drunk. He’s more quiet than you expected. His cheeks are red with a blush and his lips a bit pouty making him look a little cute.

He nodded his head aggressively, “Let’s go home.”

You didn’t question his decision and took his hand in yours when he swayed in his step and looked around for his friend so they could at least say their goodbyes. Every now and then you would look back to see how he was hanging but he seemed perfectly content having a blank mind and being dragged behind you.

“Soob? You good there, buddy?” Taehyun asked once he saw his friend’s state of drunkenness and placed a soothing hand on his tall friend’s back.

“Yesh,” Soobin said, leaning into your back, “Going home.”

Taehyun looked over at you with concerned eyes, “Are you alright? Sorry, I think he had too much to drink.”

“I’m good, the last bus will pass soon so we’ll just get home that way,” You told him, scanning the people around at the party, eyes catching on the one person you didn’t care to see.

Jia didn’t shy back from your short eye contact and she looked far from happy at the way Soobin was clinging to you—something he never did with her. To be fair, Jia was usually the one out at parties and getting wasted so she didn’t give him many chances to be the drunk one with no worries.

It bothered her to see how comfortable Soobin had gotten with another girl after their break up.

“Alright, i’ll give you my number and just let me know if you two get home safe,” Taehyun said before leaning closer into you, “Also, Soobin really likes being around you. Be safe.”

His friend left after that and for a moment you thought about what he just said, wondering how he meant it and if you were too hard into it.

“Y/n,” Soobin whined against you, “Home, please.”

“Oh my god, okay, let's go,” You said with a small laugh as he followed after you as got to the door.

Soobin was tired, he always got sleepy when he drank too much and when the two of you got on the empty bus, he couldn’t help but rest his head against the window. You didn’t pay much attention to him on the ride home but every now and then he could feel your eyes on him probably wondering how he was holding up. Going up to your apartment was another challenge trying to drag Soobin up the stairs without stumbling up the steps.

“Thanks,” Soobin yawned cutely as he rubbed his tired eyes, waving you goodnight.

You went to your room silently, flashing him a smile as you left and once your door was shut, you immediately began to undress. It had been a long night and all you wanted was to crawl in bed, scroll in your phone and go to sleep. You didn’t drink as much as Soobin did so the alcohol didn’t have the same effect on you but you were still tired. It was nice getting to hang out with him for a while despite the reason or who was around. At some points you were able to forget who was there but when you would catch sight of Jia and think back to Soobin, you just couldn’t understand why she would ever do that to someone.

Now changed into your pajamas, too tired to do anything more, you were halfway crawling on your bed when there was a soft thud on your door and a small whine of your name, “Y/n.”

“Yes, Soobin?” You asked with a sigh and a smile as you heard your roommate on the other side of the door, “I thought you were going to bed.”

“I’m not tired, can I come in?” He asked and you could practically see the pout on his lips. It was about midnight so you should just turn him away but you could hear the shuffling on the other side of the door and before you knew it, you were unlocking your bedroom door and letting him in.

“What’s wrong?” You asked as he hesitated to sit on the edge of your bed.

“Nothing,” he answered honestly, “I just… I wanted to see what you were up to, were you going to bed?”

“I was probably just going to be on my phone a bit,” you laid down on your usual spot reaching for the remote to your television, “What should I watch?”

You didn’t outwardly tell him to lay down next to you but the way you moved your things to your side, it was easy to assume you didn’t mind. Soobin was still hesitant to lay down with his back against your headboard but once you made no sign to kick him out, he let himself relax as you scrolled through Netflix.

“Something scary,” Soobin said, barely paying attention as he looked around your bedroom. This was the first time he had stepped into it since you moved in and it looks completely different than what it did before. He couldn’t explain into words but it looked like a room you would have. It was like an insight to who you are from the pictures on your walls to the clothes by your closet. It was cozy and your bed was so soft he found himself yawning.

“You surprised me tonight,” You told him as you finally settled on a movie about a haunted house, “First because you were surprisingly popul—“

“Why’s that a surprise?” Soobin asked, slightly more alert as he looked at you, “I’m a catch.”

“You are,” you said casually, “I just meant… a lot of people like you.”

He couldn’t help but bite his lips at your words. He didn’t mean to seem overly confident or anything but he knew he was somewhat likable. He tried being nice and friendly to everyone and clearly sometimes that didn’t work in his favor when it came to relationships but he’s always had people around him. Not everyone he would consider a real friend but the ones he have right now or the real deal.

Taehyun and him got along from the moment they met at work. Soobin’s the one who trained Taehyun when he first started and they just got super close from there.

Yeonjun has been his best friend for as long as he can remember and they even fight like an old bickering couple too.

Sometimes they don’t understand him—like when they thought he was still upset over Jia, and he needs a break from them but that’s where you came along. You’re one of his friends now too so does that mean you also like him?

As a friend?

As more?

No, not as more. He was getting ahead of himself.

“Don’t say those things to me, Y/n,” Soobin whined, hiding behind a pillow.

“Why?” You asked with a small laugh as he curled himself up on your bed, looking every bit out of place in your Sanrio bed sheets and his tall frame.

“Because, they’ll get to my head,” he confessed, sitting up a little to regain himself, “So what’s the other reason you were surprised by me?”

You hummed in thought, “You’re surprisingly cute when you’re drunk, and really clingy.”

It was clear that throughout the time it took to get home, Soobin had sobered up enough to have clearer thoughts and you just wanted to be honest. It’s what you believed and you hoped he wouldn’t take it the wrong way and think you were hitting on him. Sure, Soobin is attractive for many reasons and you enjoy hanging out with him but just think about the circumstances. He’s your roommate and he just got out of a relationship with someone who cheated on him.

“I mean,” you cleared your throat awkwardly, acting like you were watching the movie, “I bet you really sold it to Jia that you were seeing someone. There’s no way she’ll try and get you to go out with her again now.”

At the reminder, Soobin seemed to sigh, “Yeah.”

For a second he had thought you were going to say something else. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling at the moment and it worries him but at the same time it’s exciting and he wished he didn’t react this way to you and so soon.

“Do you work tomorrow?” You asked him, letting out a small yawn as you made yourself more comfortable indeed the covers.

“Only in the afternoon,” Soobin said, looking over at you hopefully, “Why? Do you want to do something?”

“I have to work, if I get off early I might stop by,” You said, looking back at him too. You could see the small dimple in his cheek become more prominent as he resisted the urge to smile, nodding his head.

With a small sigh, Soobin checked the time and sat up, “Okay, I’ll let you sleep.”

For some reason he wanted to do or say more but he’s not sure what he would’ve been able to say in the first place. You got up after him so you could close the door on his way out but at the door, you both stopped to look at each other.

“I did have fun tonight,” you told him truthfully.

Soobin stood at the door looking down at you with his lip pulled between his teeth. It was becoming more obvious that he liked being around you. He thought you were pretty and fun to be with and you have yet to make him feel poorly. He’s very aware of the fact that he’s only been single for a little over a month but he can’t deny the sudden race in his heart when you’re around.

It scares him to think he might be feeling something toward you at such an awkward time.

“Goodnight.”

Things slowly began to change between you two and neither one of you knew what to do about that sort of thing. On one hand, Soobin wanted to see if you would like to spend more time together but he also wasn’t sure if he was ready. It has nothing to do with how he felt toward his ex girlfriend and more with how he felt at possibly seeing someone again.

Jia was a major push to his confidence and definitely raised his insecurities and trust issues so he thought he would stay single for a while. Plus, you were his roommate which could pose an entirely different problem and yet none of that has helped him stop thinking about you. It’s been days from the party and he knows hes been slightly more in your bubble than before but its only because he doesn’t know how to read you.

How is he supposed to know how you might feel about him and how should he feel about it?

“You’re overthinking it,” Yeonjun said as he sat across from Soobin and Yeonjun who were in their matching brown aprons as part of the cafe’s unofficial uniform. The cafe was empty aside from a couple college students grossly immersed in their studies to care that the only two workers were currently siting at a table with a friend. Every now and then the three would feel the eyes of some high school girl gawking at them through the shop windows but none dared to enter making the cafe slow with traffic.

“If you like her, why can’t you at least try?” Yeonjun asked him like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Because she’s my roommate and what if that just messes things up completely?” Soobin asked.

“I mean, Y/n seemed pretty into you at the party,” Taehyun said with a shrug of his shoulders.

Soobin shook his head, “No, she was just being nice. I was drunk and probably embarrassed myself so there’s no way she liked it—well, okay she said it was cute, but do you think she meant it?”

Yeonjun reached across the small table and pinched Soobin’s cheek hard, pouting his lips in a kiss as he gushed over his friend, “Of course she meant it, just look at you. Who can resist this bunny face?”

Just as Soobin was ready to fight Yeonjun off, the familiar bell above the door rang and a loud burst of energy came through the door.

“Kai, I swear to god, if you don’t stop I’m going to bite you,” a guy said as he smacked another guy off and the two cafe workers couldn’t help but snap into attention and get behind the counter.

“Y/n,” Kai said with a forced whiny voice, “Save me.”

“Don’t touch me,” you pushed him off as you looked around the cafè for Soobin.

Just a couple feet away from you, he stood there with his lips parted in surprise before letting his eyes drift off to the two guys behind you. A smile spread across his lips as he left Taehyun and Yeonjun to go to you, “Hi, what are you doing here?”

“We were just at the arcade across the street so I figured why not stop for a drink?” You said with a gentle smile that had him practically giggling.

“Oh, so you didn’t come just to see me?” Soobin teased, a flirty undertone in his voice. He couldn’t help but glance back to the guys, curious who they were.

Since you moved in, you haven’t brought anyone home and he assumed you were single since you offered to go with him to a party—and let him on your bed, but now he’s not sure. What if everything you were doing really was as a friend and he’s just overthinking it all?

“Sadly no, I really need coffee,” you joked as he went to the counter to get you a drink. Taehyun was helping the two guys while you talked to Soobin and he couldn’t wait to be done so he can ask who they were.

“O-oh,” he cleared his throat awkwardly as he began to make it, ringing you up and trying to apply some sort of discount so you wouldn’t have to pay full price. Before he could tell you your total,one of the guys who was with you gave him cash to pay.

Beomgyu placed his hand on your shoulder as he leaned down to whisper, “Is this him?”

You just nodded your head ignoring his growing smile as he thanked Soobin for his change back and ruffled your hair, “Hurry up, I need real food.”

“Are you gonna be home later?” Soobin asked as the guys left through the door, waiting outside but looking in and it was clear they were talking about you. He wanted to say he was just curious for no reason but part of him wanted to know if you would be out with them.

“Probably, not till late though, I think we’re probably gonna go have a drink or two,” you said with a shrug and this was the perfect time for Soobin to ask who they were. Were they just friends? Was one of them something more? Have you been in any relationship?

“Let me know if you want me to pick you up,” Soobin said, “I-I mean, yknow, repay the favor from the other night that I embarrassed myself.”

“You didn’t,” you rolled your eyes looking around. Your friends were waiting and you had your drink so you should’ve left by now but instead you’re looking at his two friends. Taehyun had gone with Yeonjun again and it’s the first time in a while you saw Yeonjun. When you first met him he had gone over to the apartment and you had thought he was attractive. You still do but not in the same context anymore. Taehyun waved at you enthusiastically which you did back and looked back at Soobin, “It was cute, but should I call you tonight then? Or will you be asleep.”

“I’ll hear you come home either way, so come say hi even if it’s late,” Soobin said, making you nod your head.

“Okay, well I have to go before they come and drag me out,” you told him as you pointed to your two friends who were getting annoyed waiting out there.

“Y/n,” he called for you but when you looked back at him, he couldn’t bring himself to ask, “Nevermind, be safe.”

Soobin waved you goodbye and watched you leave with the guy from earlier wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“God, Bin, you can’t even hide it,” Yeonjun said with a chuckle as Soobin joined them again, “You looked jealous.”

“What?” Soobin looked at him with big doe eyes, looking every bit clueless as he felt, “No, I just—I don’t, um, Y/n’s… did I?”

They both nodded their heads and Taehyun said, “Yes but not too much. We noticed because we’re your best friends but I’m sure none of them could tell. You were all smiley and blush which is major cringecore with Y/n but any time you looked at those guys, you’d glare.”

“I don’t glare,” Soobin muttered under his breath as he stared at the window, “Besides, I don’t know if one of them is dating Y/n so there’s no point in doing anything now.”

“You didn’t bother to ask!?” Yeonjun and Taehyun asked at the same time that it caused Soobin to jump, feeling startled.

“I’m sorry but if I was into someone and I was in their bed and then I see them talking to someone, you better believe I’m going to ask who!” Yeonjun added, making Soobin groan in frustration that he couldn’t just man up and ask.

It’s clear there’s no point in pretending he isn’t catching feelings for you and he has to figure out how to tell you. The only problem is if you reject him, he won’t be sure how to live with you anymore—especially if you were to date someone.

He should’ve just acted curious and asked who they were.

“You guys are so annoying,” you said with a groan as you followed after your two best friends who were fighting down the street.

“Soobin and Y/n, kissing in a tree! K-I-S-S—ow, ow, ow!” Kai cried out as you pulled his ear.

“This is why I don’t tell you guys anything,” you said when they laughed. Kai was doing that creepy evil loud laugh he always does and Beomgyu is just instigating it.

“First of all, you tell us everything,” Beomgyu pointed out, “And what’s the problem? Pretty sure he likes you too.”

“Oh my god, I don’t like Soo—I mean, he’s my roommate, it would be weird,” you said, “Plus, he just got out of a relationship.”

“Yeah like two months ago or something, and she cheated on him,” Kai said before clutching his chest, “You could heal his heart.”

“Corny,” Beomgyu yelled and the two laughed again.

“Whatever, let’s just go eat.”

It took a lot of convincing from his friends for him to actually agree to just go for it. He had been debating it for a while now and each day that passed where he gets to see you first thing in the morning or last thing at night just reminds him he wants to keep seeing you. He’s not sure how much more he could go just acting like a friend.

He likes everything about you and he’s not good at hiding it. Usually, it takes him a while to fall for someone.

When he met Jia its because they were partners in chemistry one semester and she helped him get the job at the cafe so he could make more money aside from his internship. Truth be told, Jia kind of scared him at first because she never hid her interest from him. She was aggressive with it and he didn’t know how to react so he never made a move on her.

She’s the one who had to ask him and even then, he didn’t say yes right away because he hadn’t been sure if it was something he wanted to do. Over time he obviously grew feelings for her but the relationship never felt as easy as his friendship with you did.

So really, the realization of how differently and strongly he felt for you in such a short time was an indicator that he clearly had strong feelings for you.

When he got home after the cafe, he had a strong sense of confidence that was going to be his push to just go for it. He had been talking himself up all day and had decided the worst thing that could happen is you say no. He could live with that… maybe.

“Y/n?” Soobin called out to you as he dropped his things at the door, “You home?”

You were in your room reading some poetry book with music playing quietly and he knocked on your open door. You looked up at him, sliding your headphones down to your neck, “Hey.”

You sat up a little, motioning for him to come inside and he looked around nervously, “Are you busy?”

“No?” You smiled as you looked down at your book, “What’s up?”

Soobin bit his lip in thought as he tried to figure out how to word it before saying, “Do you want to… I don’t know, get food? Maybe go for a walk later?”

“Um, sure?” You said with a racing heart, “What time?”

“Um, an hour? Forty five minutes?” Soobin asked, more eager now knowing you’ll hang out with him, “Thirty?”

“In thirty minutes?” You asked, “Okay.”

“Okay, I’m just gonna change and probably, uh,” Soobin blinked nervously, “Get ready.”

“Okay,” you laughed softly as he nearly stumbled out the door. Once your door was shut, you jumped out of bed and straight to your vanity where you hoped to make yourself look a little better.

This wasn’t a date.

Soobin didn’t ask you out, he just asked you to get food.

How would you feel if he were to ask you on a date? Would he ever do that or does he only see you as a friend? For all you know, he’s sworn off dating completely.

When you left with Soobin at your side, things were normal. You talked about normal things, laughed about normal things and for a while you were able to forget your worries. You were just spending time with someone you enjoy spending time with without thinking every little thing over nonstop.

“So what’s your type?” Soobin asked so suddenly that you nearly choked on your water. Usually he’s not so forward with his questions so it caught you off guard. The two of you were at a small restaurant and it felt oddly like a date when he asked you things like this.

With an awkward clear of your throat, you said, “Um, I’m not sure if I have a type. The people I’ve been with in the past have all been a little different, I think.”

“What about looks?” Soobin asked, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. He knows he’s an attractive guy but what if he still wasn’t your type?

You laughed softly, “I don’t know, Binnie, I like who I like.”

Soobin couldn’t help but blush, as he finally decided to ask, “What about me?”

You looked at him curiously, trying to decipher what he meant and when he couldn’t meet your gaze, you said, “You?”

“Am I your type?” He asked quietly. The server brought your meals which worked as a distraction to give you time to calm your beating heart and you took a deep breath.

It was hard to say because as of now… yes. You’ve always thought Soobin was attractive and kind and you’ve never actually dated someone like him so to say he’s your type is weird when you’re not sure if you even have one. You like Soobin, you know you do but what would it mean if you answer this question and what does he expect you to say?

“I think so,” you said shyly, looking down at your plate to avoid his gaze. Soobin resisted the urge to smile and ask you more about how you might feel for him.

He tried not to bring so much up while you had your late dinner and when the bill came, it became another topic of discussion.

“Soobin, you paid last time,” you said remembering the time you went to get hotpot last time, “Either I can pay or we can split the bill.”

“I asked you to come out with me,” Soobin said, getting his wallet out, “So I’m going to pay.”

“Binnie,” you said to him, watching him set money for the bill and a little extra for a tip before standing up, ready to leave. The server took the money and bid you both a goodnight.

“Y/n,” he used the same whiny voice you had, “Next time I’ll let you pay, I promise.”

Part of him wanted to reach for your hand as you left the restaurant but instead, he said, “I don’t want to go home yet.”

You have to admit, Soobin is really making your heart flutter in a very confusing way. You thought about taking his hand in yours and leading him toward the park across the street but you decided against it, unsure if it was something he wanted.

The night of the party when you held his hand, he made sure to not let it go even when you were on the bus but maybe it was just because he was drunk and not feeling good?

“So let’s go on a walk then,” you said, taking the reign to hold his hand, trying not to think about it.

Soobin smiled widely as he happily held yours, swinging them a little, “Y/n, I just want to say, you’re one of my best friends.”

He’s not sure he’s ever been able to call someone he’s dating his best friend. His past girlfriends never really cared to get to know him or have the same interests which wasn’t necessarily a problem but you’ve become his friend first and he thinks that’s what helped him develop feelings for you. You liked the same things, you enjoyed each other’s company and you never made him feel weird no matter what he did. He was being honest when he called you his best friend, it’s just that he wanted you to be more too.

“Who’s my competition?” You asked, waiting for him to say Taehyun or Yeonjun but he just shook his head, fixing your hands so your fingers were intertwined.

“You don’t have any,” Soobin shrugged, staring ahead at the path of street lamps, feeling a slight chill in the night air.

After a while the two of you decided to take a seat on a bench nearby, just under a streetlamp that casted down on it like a scene from a movie. You couldn’t help but shiver under the cold yet neither one of you brought up possibly going home—as if that would end the chances of spending time together.

Soobin felt you shivering beside him and without wasting too much time pondering, he scooted closer to you until his side was pressed to yours and provide you with much needed warmth. You looked at him with a teasing a smile, “So what you’re saying is, I’m actually your only best friend. I’m not sure if Taehyung or Yeonjuun would like that.”

He smiled cheekily, “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind, I don’t really keep it a secret that you’re my new favorite person.”

“Oh wow, what an honor. What did I do to deserve that?” You asked with a playful tone, trying to hide the way your face began to heat up.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, looking over at you with soft, moonlit eyes, “I’m still trying to figure that out too.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, unsure what to even say and you just looked into each other’s eyes, wondering if you were thinking the same. You were so close now and it was getting very hard to ignore when you couldn’t look away from him. Soobin was hesitant for a long while, debating if he should just go for it.

There were a millón things running through your mind, some about kissing him, or not kissing. Wondering if you should cross the line or give him space. You turned to face him, lips parting, “I—“

It happened rather quickly, the brush of his lips against yours, and you hadn’t fully thought it through when you kissed him back. There was a sudden sense of bliss that caused him to relax into the short kiss, melting into you when your lips moved against his.

His fingers lingered on your thigh, itching to deepen the kiss with a hand in your hair. Just as he was going to reach out, you pulled away abruptly, nearly leaving him to follow and his eyes snapped awake, unaware when he closed them.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” You whispered so quietly he could barely hear you. It didn’t stop his heart from dropping with clarity, “Oh”

You were rejecting him, even if you kissed him too.

“Binnie, I just—I like you but,” You bit your lip nervously, ‘I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“Oh,” he slumped back, giving you more space, “Why? Because we live together?”

“Yeah,” you sounded regretful, “And you haven’t been single for long and I just don’t want to be a, um…”

“You think it’ll be like a rebound?” Soobin asked with a small scoff, “Y/n, I… I wouldn’t do that to you, I want to try with you.”

“But, I don’t know, I just don’t want this to become a real thing, and it ends badly and we can’t talk anymore,” you confessed, “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Soobin said, “I get it.”

He doesn’t.

Silence filled the space between you and neither one of you knew what to do about it. The awkwardness was already beginning to settle and he didn’t want that at all. A sorry smile spread across his lips, “You’re still my favorite person.”

A laugh left your lips, an ounce of worry disappearing but you still felt awful. You liked Soobin, and you were always such a sure person but when it comes to relationships you can be doubtful. You never know their full intentions and although Soobin is a really good guy but you haven’t known each other long and he was just in a relationship not that long ago.

After a while he asked if you should head home and the walk back was a bit quieter.

Honestly, you really did like Soobin. You never thought of him as anything more than a friend but not because you wanted to friendzone him but because you I never thought he saw you as anything but. Maybe you thought you would be the one rejected that you never thought about him romantically. He was attractive and you always knew so but you just seemed different at the time.

You were friendly, you talked nicely to each other and to only been a while since you started hanging around him. You assumed you were the only one feeling this way and its strange to learn that’s not true.

How would you have guessed he had feelings for you? Sure, he was nice from the getgo but it had always been casual. The only time e acted differently was when he was drunk and even then you assumed it was because he was too drunk to remember. Sheen he crawled into your bed after, it are your heart race but nothing happened between you two and it was never mentioned again. You grew to like him but you had no idea he would start liking you too.

It was a flaw in your character design, you think. You have no problem making decisions and being more confident and in control with it came to other things but for some reason when it comes to yourself, you’re doubtful. It’s easy for you to catch on to feelings when it comes to others but yourself.

That’s not to say you’ve never been in a relationship with someone but you’ve always just struggled reading how someone feels about you. Now you feel awful thinking you read Soobin’s intentions wrong but you couldn’t help it. You know what it feels like to be a rebound and its not a feeling you want to go through again.

The other person didn’t make you feel as good as your time with Soobin does and that’s what worried you. You’re also not in a spot to put your living situation at risk again. You had gotten so lucky to find him and f it goes bad between you, where would you go? You’re not as strong as Soobin. He could keep working with Jia and seeing her in public after what she did to him and be fine, but would you be able to live with him after? If he hurt you, or if you hurt him… could you handle it?

Lately, its not that you’ve been purposely avoiding him but ever since the kiss, your paths have barely passed. It seems like you both made an effort to interact at least once before and now that you’re not, its been boring.

When Soobin gets to the cafe, he couldn’t even think about having to work with Jia. She wasn’t in his mind anymore because all he could think about is you. You didn’t fully reject him and that’s what drives him insane.

“Hey Soob,” Taehyung said as he watched his friend walked past him with a somber expression, completely ignoring him.

You like him. You said you liked him, right? So why can’t you just give him a chance?

His mind felt a million miles away as he slipped up on his apron, tying it over his baggy shirt and sweats. Soobin was unaware of the stares his coworkers sent him as he found his job for the day and busied himself with it.

“You’re quieter than usual,” Jia pointed out toward the end of their shift, “Did something happen?”

Her voice was laced with feigned concern and that only bother him more. Why does she bother pretending like she cares about him?

“Nothing that you have to worry about,” Soobin mumbled more to himself than her but she heard him anyway. He wouldn’t tell her about you and how you somewhat rejected him, instead he looked at the time wishing Taehyun could’ve just stayed till close with him and Jia.

“Soobin,” Jia’s voice was soft, coming over to where he was wiping down tables and chairs, “I know you and I aren’t as close as we used to be but… I really do care about you.”

A small scoff left his lips that he wasn’t able to hide as much as before and he turned away, ready to leave her behind so he could be alone.

“Does it have anything to do with that girl?” She asked closer to close when there wasn’t a single customer in sight and the sign had already been flipped.

Soobin couldn’t help but release a sigh in frustration as he looked at her, “Jia, why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” She asked with furrowed brows.

“Why are you acting like you all of a sudden care? Can’t we just work without talking and then go home?” Soobin asked, clearly annoyed and not in the mood for her.

He’s kept his mouth shut ever since they broke up and he’s never asked her to explain anything or to apologize so why doesn’t she just let it go. He’s been biting his tongue because he didn’t want to seem bitter that she cheated on him but at this point he doesn’t care. He has other things to worry about then listening to his ex girlfriend try and act like everything is okay between them.

“Soobin, I’m sorry,” Jia confessed watching as he walked past her to the front door already holding the key to lock the shop for the night, “I know I probably hurt you and what I did was unforgivable but can you please just give me one more chance. I—I don’t like thinking you hate me.”

“Jia, I don’t hate you,” Soobin told her honestly as they stood outside and he can see the way she got hope in her eyes, making him keep explaining, “And I can work with you because I have to but I’m not going to forgive you.”

It felt strange being so honest after acting unaffected for a while but it was the truth and he needed to get it out, “You cheated on me, don’t you get that?”

“I know bu—“

“No, you clearly don’t know because since you saw me and Y/n get closer all you’ve wanted to do is talk to me. It’s not because you still want me but because you know you fucked up and don’t want me to move on with anyone else,” Soobin said harshly, “Do you realize how frustrating it is to want to be with someone and everyone thinks you’re not over your cheating ex girlfriend?”

Jia looked like she wanted to say something but the words were caught in her throat, so Soobin continued, “You slept with someone I lived with behind my back and in my own home and you think apologizing and asking for one more chance is going to work?”

She was frozen, unsure what to say or if she should say anything at all. Of course he’s right and she was only wishing that things could change but she knows that she fucked up. Being with Soobin had been great, he was sweet and caring and she wanted more so she looked for more in a guy who doesn’t mean a thing to either one of them.

It had always felt like Soobin didn’t love her, like he only dealt with her because they were dating and even then it felt like she pushed him to it. He never got upset with her, even when he caught her cheating, he was just quiet and listened to her apologies over and over again. All he did was ask them both to leave and that was it. When he still went to work at the cafe she hoped it was a sign that he would forgive her if he could still stand being around her but then you came along and she could see the way Soobin’s face began to light up.

From the get-go, she feels like you were able to draw more out from him than she ever was and that really did annoy her. She’s not putting the blame on him for her cheating but why couldn’t he show more with her as he had with you and why is it too late now?

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, close to tears but it was obvious Soobin didn’t care anymore.

“Have a good night, Jia,” he sighed, leaving her behind as he went to the bus stop.

He likes you, you’re all he’s been able to think about and he can’t stand knowing you doubt his intentions. Soobin has never been the type to use someone for his own gain and even that night of the party he forgot you went with him so he wouldn’t be alone knowing Jia was there. Once he had you with him, he didn’t care who was around. All he cared about was you and he needs you to know that.

When he got home, he was surprised to see you coming out of your bedroom right as he walked through the front door. You looked over at him, nervous and unsure what to say or if you should say anything at all. You weren’t sure if he was still upset with you or if he was ever really upset by what you said.

“Hey,” you said shyly, walking toward the kitchen where you were returning a bowl.

“Hey,” Soobin set his things, debating if he should go to his room or just try with you one more time.

Now that he’s told Jia how he feels about her still trying with him, he feels more confident to tell you exactly what it is he wants with you. He doesn’t want a rebound, he doesn’t care about his last relationship, he cares about getting to know you and kissing you more.

“Were you just at work?” You asked, trying to make some conversation, see if you could read how he might feel with you.

“Yeah,” Soobin joined you in the kitchen, “I had to close with Jia.”

You turned away from the counter, jumping slightly at how close he was behind you suddenly, “And how was that?”

“Well she apologized and asked for a second chance,” Soobin said, looking down at you, so close that his front nearly brushed against yours. You raised a brow in surprise that Jia had the nerve to ask for another chance but you wondered if Soobin was bringing this up because he planned on giving it to her.

“Oh?” You said, unsure what he was planning on saying next.

Soobin bit his lip, not shying away from your stare like he normally would, “So I told her that it was never going to happen because I’ve moved on and I like you and I don’t want you to think I’m using you or still not over my ex because I’m so over her, you don’t understand. The night of the party was one of the first nights I realized how much I like you and it’s taken me a while to admit it because I wanted to be sure.”

You blinked in surprise as he moved even closer, “And I know you kind of rejected me the other night but I also know you like me too so if you just give me one chance, I swear I’ll be the best boy you’ve ever been with and I have no intentions of just being with you as some rebound. You mean so much more to me and I should’ve told you that the other night but Y/n, I really want to be with you and no one else.”

With a small sigh, you leaned onto the counter behind you and nodded, “I want to be with you too, Binnie, but…”

He couldn’t hold back the smile on his face as he reached forward, cupping your face in his hands, “Y/n, just give me a chance.”

“I—okay,” you laughed softly and with that, he was leaning down, pressing his lips to yours gently.

Your eyes fell shut, reaching out to touch him when he moved closer, pushing you against the counter with no room to go anywhere. A small gasp left your lips in surprise and it gave him a chance to deepen the kiss with his tongue.

“Soobin,” you laughed in shock as he pulled back in an attempt to catch his breath, “That was unexpected, different from the last kiss.”

His hands were resting on the counter, trapping you between them, he was leaning downuntil he could leave tender kisses along your neck, “I’m sorry, I… it was sudden and last time you wanted to stop.”

He was panting softly, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to take a deep breath, “Do you want to stop again?”

You looked into his eyes, “Not really.”

That was all he needed to hear before leaning back down for a kiss, this time sliding his hands down to your waist, grounding himself to the reality of this all. Your hands went to his soft black hair, brushed it out of his face and kissed him feverishly.

Soobin’s lips parted against yours, a sigh of relief escaped as he tilted his head to the side. You were a bit surprised by his forwardness once again that when his tongue trailed along your lower lip as if asking for permission, all you could was grant it. Your tongues met smoothly, circling around each other, before pulling back to his lips on your bottom one. Was he such a good kisser last time?

The more he seemed to lean forward and close the nonexistent gap between you, the more you leaned back with need, never once pulling your mouth away from his. With an annoyed huff at your attempt to lean back, he found himself tightening his grip on your waist before pulling you onto the counter making you gasp, “Bi—“

The near call of his nickname made him groan into your mouth, he kissed you with frenzy, like soon you would change your mind and everything would stop.

A small laugh escaped your lips at his eagerness, not shying away from wrapping your legs around his waist as he sat you down on the peninsula countertop. You brought a hand down to the cold marble, trying to steady yourself when he kissed along your jaw, then your neck leaving small red marks where he nipped at.

“Y/n,” Soobin’s voice caught you by surprise, his usual tone was deeper and hoarse with need as he pulled away from kissing you. His hands remained on your waist, his thumbs underneath the thin fabric of your shirt, inching it up just slightly, “One chance.”

“That’s all it’s gonna take,” he mumbled with swollen lips as he looked down at your lap, the material of your leggings not threatening and you could feel his hands slide down till they were at the hem of your leggings.

His gaze was darkened and you were admittedly incredibly turned on by this new side of him. It’s not like you expected him to suddenly take the lead so heavily but you can’t say you hated it. It’s different that what you’re used to from him and it makes you think back to the night of your first kiss. Should you have said yes all along? Would you have ever gotten to see this side of him where he felt the need to express just how much he wants to be with you?

Your eyes locked with his as he slowly began to pull down the material of your pants, lifting your hips slightly as he let them slide down. It’s like he was still waiting for you to tell him stop but with the parting of your legs and the way you guided him down to his knees, it was clear to him you wanted this just as bad.

Soobin started with gentle kisses along your thighs, neither you caring that you were doing this in your kitchen, it only seemed to fuel the heat in his stomach that you were alone. You licked your lips with anticipation, eyes dropping with need at the way he pulled your legs over his shoulders swiftly, looking down at your covered heat with a cute sort of curiosity.

He could see through the thin fabric how turned on you had gotten from the kiss. He can make out the shape of your slit and there was a slight dampness where your entrance would be and it made him feel so much bitter about the growing bulge in his jeans. With eager fingers, he pulled the fabric down, unable to help himself from teasing your heat with his nose tip, “Y/n.”

Your name fell from his lips so prettily that you nearly missed the urgency in it until you were looking at him, looking down at your cunt until finally, he leaned in. A sigh in content escaped you as he placed a soft kiss along your folds, teasing you by avoiding your hardened clit. His hands which held your legs apart were so far up your thighs you could feel the shadow of them against your core and it felt good to be grabbed by him. You never noticed just how big his hands were, or how good he could possibly be with his mouth.

After the light teasing he did with your folds, he licked softly against your clit before pulling it into his mouth, sucking gently making you moan for the first time. Soobin’s eyes immediately went to your face as he swirled his tongue around your clit, lathering it in his drool as he watched your face contort in pleasure making him throb in his jeans uncomfortably.

With one hand on the counter for support, your other hand went to his hair, pulling him closer between your legs and you could feel one of his hands unravel from your thigh and come up to your cunt. You could feel the tip of his middle finger dip into your folds, collecting whatever slick your pussy let out when he sucked on your clit and ever so gently, he pushed a finger in.

“You’re so pretty,” he sighed, attempting to catch his breath as he let his finger do some of the work. He rested his cheek against the softness of your thigh while beginning to thrust his middle finger into your wet pussy, “So fucking pretty, Y/n.”

With a deep groan, he went back to your clit, letting his middle finger hook into your g-spot while he mouthed at your clit, costing it in spit while fucking you with his finger. Your hand in his hair never let up, you used it for support, unable to keep your moans down, “Binnie.”

He felt the way you fluttered around him and it only made him put in more effort to bring you to your edge—and not just on the counter. He was nearly on his knees and his legs were beginning to cramp, his cock was getting heavy in its confinement but he didn’t let up. Instead, he let his mouth glide over your wet cunt leaving open mouth kisses in its wake.

“Oh god,” you whined softly as you felt a second finger push into your heat and a few seconds of this had your thighs threatening to shut, feeling the familiar knot in the pit of your stomach, “Your mouth feels so good.”

“Cum for me then, baby,” the words slipped from his lips without thought but for some reason those were the exact words you needed to hear. He felt your release on his tongue a short moment after he spoke and your folds throbbed with please around him.

“That’s it,” he groaned, watching your juice drop around his fingers, gently pulling them away and letting you relax post orgasm.

You looked at him with a new sense of attraction, why was he so confident in bed? Soobin’s cheeks flushed red as he looked down at the mess you made on the counter but his dick loved the sight of your release dripping down on the counter. It was an easy clean up and it was hot, so fucking hot.

Without much thought put into it, Soobin raised his soaked fingers to his lips, humming softly at the taste of your essence. A bunny-like grin spread across his face as he couldn’t help but laugh, “You know we’re not done, right?”

Despite the last couple moments where he’s initiated intimacy, he didn’t wait for permission. He was letting you know he wasn’t done with you yet and that made it all the better when he pulled you into his arms, not caring that you were half naked and taking you toward his bedroom.

He set you down on his bed gently, looking down at you as he yanked off his shirt exposing a lean body of muscle you hadn’t expected.

Soobin isn’t the type to show off his body, he liked more loose fitting clothes and whenever he’s complimented on his physique he always gets shy. Whenever he leaves his room or he knows you’re home he makes sure to be fully dressed and he’s kept himself a secret from you out of nervousness that you might get uncomfortable. Now that your eyes are on his toned stomach, all he could think about is how he wished you’d seen him sooner—if he knew you would look at him like this.

Seeing him undress before you, taking his jeans off next followed by his briefs left you with your lip pulled between your teeth. You now knew why he looked so sweaty early in the mornings, he went to the gym at dawn while you slept in.

You sat up and pulled your shirt off, careful to undo your bra as you felt the bed dip down with his weight and he crawled toward you, helping you throw your things down before pushing you to lay down.

“Condom?” You ask, making him look at you with a sense of curiosity. He knew what you were asking and he of course would oblige but as he looked down at your naked bodies and the way his hard cock pressed against your head, he couldn’t help but let his mind go astray. He just couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

You let Soobin get up as he leaned over his nightstand, praying to the universe that he had a condom somewhere about. It’s obvious he hasn’t had sex in a good long while but he’s just hoping the universe is on his side and he can find one.

After a moment of searching, his heart raced, moved back between your legs and kissed you hungrily. You took the condom from his hands, ripped the wrapper off and searched down his toned abdomen till you found his stiff member. Although you haven’t gotten a good look at it, it had a weight to it and good girth that you couldn’t help but write with need.

Soobin didn’t hesitate to himself up with your entrance when you got the condom on and as gentler as ever, he pushed in. A low growl left his lips as your walls hugged him tightly and he couldn’t help but let his strength falter, nearly crushing you with his weight at the pleasure.

"Mmm," he groans into your neck, his body pressed against yours as he pulled out slowly, taking a moan to let you feel his big mushroom tip against your ring of nerves. Once he needed more, he pushed back in with a bit more force.

“Soobin,” you moaned, letting your head fall back into to the pillows as his hips began a steady pace of thrusting into you, "Oh… fuck."

He brushed his lips against yours, fucking you with his big cock, basking in the feel of your pussy around him, “So wet, bub.”

His voice had softened even if his thrusts grew rougher, “You feel so good around me.”

Soobin couldn’t help but be close and he was awfully pathetic for it. In his defense, he had just made out with a girl he was crushing on for the past hour. Add on how he ate your pussy in the kitchen [of all places] he felt it was only human of him to be so close to cumming despite barely fucking you.

With a deep grunt, he snuck his hand under your arched back pulling you off the bed and a quiet squeal left your lips. You moved your legs to hug his waist and cling to him when he sat you down on his thighs, cock still deep in your pussy. Soobin’s hands founded their way to the softness of your ass, pinching softly at the way you basically cock warmed him and it took him a moment to raise you up, and pull you back to take him all.

“Please Y/n,” he groaned, grinding your pussy on his dick, “Just say you want to be with me already, fuck. I just want to hear you say it.”

Pure bliss was evident on his face and your usual cute Soobin was replaced by a feral, dark and lustful Soobin you weren’t used to. His hair was sweaty and voice so deep that you couldn’t help but succumb to his advances.

He hugged your body to his and you began to bounce on his lap, kissing his neck and letting your hands trace down his chest feeling his nipples harden, “I want to be with you, Binnie.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, “I’m gonna cum.”

His eyes squeezed shut urging every muscle in his body to hold back from cumming first but he couldn’t. A shiver ran down his body as he felt the knot in his stomach come undone, his cock shooting thick spurts of cum into the condom, trembling underneath you.

“Fuck,” his voice was dry, urging you to keep riding his cock, “Keep going.”

“Bin—“ you moaned, hearing the desperation in his voice and did as you were told. It didn’t take long for you to let go, cumming in his arms as he whispered how good you felt around him.

As gentle as ever, he set you back on the bed, collapsing on top of you in a sweaty mess that had you groaning.

“Sticky,” you mumbled, “I feel sticky.”

Soobin looked down at you and the mess the two of you made of each other, blinking with confusion on how things had escalated so quickly. Did he do that?

“Sorry,” he pouted, “Do you want to get cleaned up?”

“I think so,” you giggled softly as he reluctantly let you sit up, “How about I meet you back here in a minute?”

Soobin couldn’t think of anything to say and with a silent nod, he let you gather your things and leave.

You weren’t trying to ditch him but you needed to freshen up at least a little bit.

He thought about waiting for you in his bed after he cleaned up after himself but after a while he began to overthink it. Would you actually come back? He understands you’re just a wall away but the distance seemed so far now that he couldn’t help but get up and dressed, following you out his bedroom.

In the process of heading to your room, he stopped in the kitchen to clean up the mess as best as he could for the moment. A soft hum left his lips as he did so and when his eyes landed on a thin piece of lace fabric, he blinked curiously.

With a someone innocent look in his eyes, Soobin picked up your underwear, biting down on his bottom lip to stop a mischievous smile from growing before he shoved them in the pocket of his sweats, unsure what he would do with them later on. A giddy smile plastered his face, dimples on display as he walked toward your room, hearing the water run and he laid in your bed.

“Now, I thought I said I would be back in a minute,” you laughed softly when you came out your bathroom and Soobin just cutely snuggled himself deeper between your sheets and pillows.

“It was too long,” Soobin said as he lifted your bed covers, “Come lay down.”

“I gotta clean out th—“

“I already did,” Soobin whined when you tried walking past him on the bed and with a gentle pull on your wrist, he was leading you onto the bed.

“Did you?” You asked, letting him pull you down until you were laying down next to him, feeling him snuggle into you with his face against your breasts.

“Mhm,” he hummed, his interest caught on the softness of your chest—a place he had neglected when he knew damn well he shouldn’t have.

“Binnie,” you warned when you felt nuzzle into your breasts, squirming against your side, “It’s late already.”

“I know, but your bed… it’s so soft,” he clearly didn’t mean the bed and he thought he was just being a sly bunny, “And you said you would be with me now. Don’t kick me out.”

You could already feel his print press against your thigh, a clear sign that he was getting turned on all over and it was obvious he skipped over wearing anything under his sweats.

A gasp left his lips when he felt your hand palm his erection lightly and unexpectedly, saying to him, “Well, I guess my bed hasn’t been broke into yet.”

Soobin’s hand clutched yours tightly, following you so close that he almost stepped on the back of your shoes everytime you walked. The bar was packed with people and it made his anxiety spike up a bit and feeling your hand in his made him feel slightly better.

“Now don’t get too drunk tonight,” Taehyun said with a laugh as he trailed after you two. Soobin just glared at him, letting you take the lead to order the drinks, eyeing the bartender who was a little too nice to you.

“I don’t plan on drinking too much if he’s the bartender all night,” Soobin mumbled under his breath, hearing the way the bartender talked to you compared to the others. You didn’t pay him any mind but Soobin was watching him too closely that it made Taehyun laugh.

“Relax buddy, you already got Y/n and I don’t think she’s going anywhere,” Taehyun said looking around the bar, waving down Yeonjun who had been search for them all night. Even if your attention was on the bartender, you still held Soobin’s hand, beating him to it when he offered to pay.

“You paid the last two times we went out,” you told him, handing everyone their drink but Soobin was whining.

“But I like paying for you, Taehyun and Yeonjun have their own money,” Soobin said, turning to his friends with a scowl, “Don’t spoil them, only me if you do things like this.”

You laughed, feeling his arm circle around your waist, “It’s okay, come on, my friends are around here somewhere.”

“Hurry up before I puke,” Yeonjun groaned, reminding Soobin that he wasn’t alone with you at home and it made him shy, hiding behind you as you lead the way.

“Wow, Y/n, I didn’t know you were so rizz!” A loud voice yelled out from your side before you were being pummeled back a few steps with large arms around you, jumping excitedly.

“Whoa, rizz!” Beomgyu shouted equally as annoying, making you groan. Soobin smiled nervously as he looked back to his friends who looked just as confused as him. He felt awkward seeing you being hugged by two guys but he tried to ignore it knowing they were just your friends.

“Binnie this is Kai and that’s Beomgyu,” you told him before looking at your friends, “Guys this is Soobin, my boyfriend.”

His dimples showed through and he couldn’t help but smile widely as you addressed him. When you joined his side against he was quick to reach for you, more happy now that you’ve called him that.

“Hello,” Beomgyu stood straight and brought a hand to his forehead as if in salute, “This is our first formal meeting.”

Kai nodded as he took your drink in his own hands, “Yeah, we would have said hi to you when we went to the cafe but Y/n wouldn’t let us because she didn’t want you to know she had a big fat mega obtuse crush on you.”

“Oh my god,” you rolled your eyes at him, “It wasn’t like I was obsessed. I was just, yknow, curious.”

Taehyun put a hand on Soobin’s shoulder, “You see? Y/n liked you then too.”

You spent the night either sitting on Soobin’s lap or dancing with him when he asked you to, and when you went home, he jumped in your bed like he’s been doing since the first night.

… THE END, okay I’m out of text boxes but basically sorry it took my so long to finally drop a Soobin fic but hopefully the length of this makes up for it 😭after drafting a story, hating it, drafting a new story, hating it and repeating the cycle for months, I finally got one finish. please interact and lmk what you thinks… it’s kinda a mess but I tried 🤒

[luveline]

I’m obsessed with the sister!hotch and Reid fics. I can’t stop imagining that scene where Rossi goes to Garcia’s house and she’s fresh from the shower with Kevin. But instead is Hotch at readers house and Spencer is there.

—you and Spencer are in the midst of a long weekend together when your brother shows up unannounced. fem, 1.3k

“You’re really handsome.” 

Spencer laughs as you drag your hands back over his ears and through his sopping wet hair. The shower water is blissfully warm and soaking your front as it rains down on his head. You shield his eyes but otherwise have your fun. His hair is softer than anything you’ve ever felt. 

He holds your hands flat to his head. “You’re handsomer.” 

“Am I supposed to take that in a good way or a bad way?” you ask. 

“A good way!” he says, forgetting your hands in favour of guiding you under the water. “Handsome has nearly always been used for men more than women, but it didn’t fall out of fashion for girls until the fifties.” He tilts your head upward and to one side as his own begins to fall the other way. “You’re beautiful.” His voice is warm on your lips, “you’re so–”

His kiss is ridiculous; he kisses like he’s starving. You didn’t realise men could actually kiss like this until you met him. It’s not just in the movies, it’s right now, his hand at the back of your neck, unbothered by your laughing or your hand slipping down his wet t-shirt. 

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” you say. 

“We were covered in mud.” 

“We should’ve just got naked.” 

“We’re taking things slow,” he says, laughing, “it’s fun. But what are we gonna do about our wet clothes?”

“You got the most of the mud on you,” you say. Spencer had performed a valiant rescue in that when you fell, he was straight down into the grass after you in an attempt to save your jeans. It didn’t work, obviously, but the thought was there, and he’s such a good kisser in the shower that you don’t mind the loss. “I’m gonna get out and get changed, you can have a real shower, okay? I’ll get you a towel and your pyjamas and stuff.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, it’s fine. I think all the mud from my top half is gone.” 

Spencer takes your face into his hand. His thumb rubs a line along your jaw. “Now it’s gone.” 

You beam. Who knew Dr. Spencer Reid was such a tender guy? You could sort of guess from looking at him that he’d touch you like that, but it’s a contrast, too, to be kissed as though you’re some irresistible siren and to have your face held like fragile glass. 

You step out of the shower still sodden, clothes heavy, and close the frosted door between you and Spencer to strip down. Separated but still shy, you hurry out of your clothes and into a towel, wrapping yourself tightly to head into your bedroom. 

You put on blissfully dry underwear and blot your face. Next is loose pyjama pants and a big t-shirt: you’ve never worried about being sexy for Spencer and you’re not about to start. Your first date was a walk in the park, your second date at the bowling alley. He’s not concerned with that stuff. It’s why his frankness about wanting to take things slow isn’t scary, because when he holds your face and tells you you’re pretty, you believe it. 

“Y/N?” 

You flinch so hard your neck cracks. “Ow,” you whine. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You walk forward before Aaron can let himself into your bedroom. Sure enough, your older brother is in your apartment (as he’s allowed, given that he furnished the entire place and paid the security deposit, and, also, awfully, is a very nice big brother). He’s smiling, carrying two pizza boxes and a carton atop it that smells like French fries. “What have you done now?” he asks fondly. 

“I hurt my neck, you scared me.” 

“If you answered your phone, you’d know I was here.” 

“I was in the shower!” 

“I can see that. You’re getting slovenly, it’s almost midday.” 

You’re so genuinely happy to see him that you forget for a moment your predicament. “It’s the weekend, I can do what I want.” You’re gonna have to let him down, which won’t be easy. “I’m not feeling the best, actually.” 

Aaron lets the pizza boxes rest against his stomach. “How come?” 

“I don’t know, I just feel tired. Maybe we can do something tomorrow.” 

“Honey,” Aaron says, with all the cadence of someone who’s used to rubbing your back when you’re sick, “what’s wrong? Let’s go sit down, I can make you something less greasy.” 

“I think you should just go home, actually. I might be contagious.” 

He looks less concerned and more gutted. “What? I don’t care if you’re contagious. When has that stuff ever bothered me?” Aaron takes another step toward you, his gaze flitting past you toward your bathroom. “What’s really going on?” 

The age gap between you and Aaron is expansive. Your being adopted is another gap, and neither have ever bothered him. The moment you showed up in his life he gave you everything he could manage, which has manifested in long phone calls, in hugs, in homemade soup and delivery when he couldn’t be there. Asking him not to look after you is like telling him you don’t want him to, and it isn’t true. 

He means a lot more to you than whatever awkwardness your confession will inspire. 

“Aaron,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “Spencer’s in the shower.” 

He squeezes his pizza boxes. “Sorry?” 

“We went to the park and I fell by the lake. He’s in the shower.” 

“But you were just in the shower,” Aaron says. 

“Well, we weren’t in there at the same time,” you drag. 

Your lie is obvious to him, not just as a profiler but as your brother. His brow pinches and his nose wrinkles, not disgusted with you or anything so cruelly stupid, but dissatisfied, at least. “Did you have to tell me that?” he asks, pained.

“I didn’t tell you that, you profiled that, and it’s sort of not what you think anyways! We didn’t do anything–”

“Honey.” 

“I’m really sorry, but it’s not what you think.” 

“Listen to me.” The shower turns off and Aaron’s cheek twitches. “You are a grown up. You can do what you like with who you like. It’s my fault for coming here unannounced, I keep thinking of you as younger than you are.” Says the adult. Then, the more friendly part of being a sibling emerges, “Could you send him home?” he whispers. “I got your favourite.” 

You laugh at his proposition. “That’s kinda rude, isn’t it? Can’t he stay? He’s cool.” 

“I’m having trouble coalescing the two of you as more than acquaintances in my mind,” he says, as though he has much more to say about it, even if he’s smiling. 

Spencer chooses that moment to walk from the en-suite bathroom and out of your room, a t-shirt stuck to his chest with damp, his own pyjama pants baggy at the ankles.

“Hey, are you okay?” Spencer grabs your hand impulsively, twining his fingers in yours. Then he sees Aaron and does a double take. “Hotch?”

You give Aaron a sorry smile. “Does that make it easier?” 

“I’ll wait in the kitchen.” 

You and Spencer watch Aaron retreat. His hand stays in yours, but he squeezes you too tightly. “Wait for what?” Spencer whispers fervently. 

You lean up on tiptoes to kiss his eyebrow. “You’re about to get the shovel talk, I think.” 

“Oh. Great.” He drops his forehead against your shoulder, wet hair dripping a path down your shirt. “This is really bad.” 

“He brought pizza.” 

“I don’t think that’s going to help me.” 

You crane your head and kiss-kiss-kiss the top of his ear. “You’re really pretty when your hair is wet.” 

Spencer murmurs to you reluctantly. “You’re really pretty all the time.” 

[yuwuta]

YUUTA OKKOTSU’S DECLASSIFIED JUJUTSU TECH SURVIVAL GUIDE (AN APPETITE HAUNTING THE HEART)

❝i know this tastes too good to be healthy. the more it melts, the sweeter it gets, so take my heart out because i need all of you.

*this is yuuta okkotsu’s fool-reviewed plan for navigating all things curses, sorcery, and love. 

pairings. okkotsu/reader

content, warnings. canon-adjacent, reader has a cursed technique, friends to lovers, smut (uhh... no triggers i think? other than implied virginity loss on yuuta’s part), mentions of violence/curses, possessive/intrusive thoughts... he starts of kinda sweet and weird and then just gets... weirder and worse lol, so mostly yuuta being... yuuta <2

notes. jujustu tech is a college not a highschool, yes i brought naruto in this, i believe in sasuke slander only from a place of pure love, real sasuke ridicule will not be accepted xoxo

word count. 12k i told you i could yap about him all day

playing. candy/baekhyun, untouched/the veronicas, cream soda/exo, lacy/olivia rodrigo, pure honey/beyoncé

#1 — Do NOT touch Maki Zenin’s tools (but if you do, the cute girl who hangs around Inumaki might help to patch you up).

Yuuta hadn’t meant to piss off Maki. He was trying to be helpful, but Yuuta learned the hard way today: do not touch Maki’s cursed tools, at all, for any reason whatsoever. He intended to hand it back to her, but she was prompt in assuming that was part of an attack, snatching it from under his grasp and giving him a jab on the wrist with the dull end of the stick. If the beatdown he’d endured during training put Yuuta on his deathbed, then that hit was the final nail in the coffin.  

The crack! sound of his bones made everyone pause their sparring, and Gojo winced the loudest, “Ouch! That one had to hurt, kid!” It was also Gojo who gathered everyone to stand around and look down at him clutching his wrist in pain, before making the executive decision to appoint you as Yuuta’s caretaker.  

“This is definitely something you can handle!” he cheered, patting the top of your head, “Take our dearest Yuuta to the infirmary and patch him up, please and thank you! With the way Maki’s been kicking him into the ground, those cuts are sure to get infected sooner rather than later. The two of you can join us for dinner when you’re finished!”  

Yuuta tried to refute, on the grounds of “No—no! I—ouch—this really isn’t worth using any kind of cursed energy over!” Which was quickly met with a mischievous raised eyebrow from his teacher, “Oh? Are you insinuating that my precious student doesn’t have the skill to fix a simple fracture?” That prompted Yuuta to spill a flurry of apologies, none of which were coherent, and ended up with him trailing behind you sheepishly to the infirmary with a broken wrist, several bleeding wounds, and probably early heart failure.  

Now, Yuuta sits with his feet dangling off of the edge of the examination chair, shivering from the chilliness of the room, and all of his nerve endings rattling at the realization that this is the first time that he’s been alone in a room with you since you’ve met. He winces, first at the sting of disinfectant into his wound, and then internally—mostly out of embarrassment—because his outward reaction made you pause your actions to question if he’s okay.  

Okay is relative, he thinks. In the grand scheme of things, he’s okay. Concerning his current injuries, he’ll be okay eventually. Concerning this… whatever this is he feels for you… maybe not so okay.  

“Sorry,” he stutters, too loud for the atmosphere and proximity of your bodies to each other, and, so, he winces again, cheeks staining red to match his embarrassment, as if he or you needed any confirmation of it. He doesn’t mean to be a difficult patient, but he has an adversity surrounding hospitals and medical care, and that alcohol really does burn, and you’re really close to his face, and—and you giggle a little, but Yuuta hears a chorus, instead; warm, spring-like, with violins and a piano and cellos strumming in perfect harmony, and the buzz of bees and butterfly wings flapping the melody.  

“You apologize a lot,” you tell him, a kind smile on your lips. You step forward, just a bit, as you peel off the band-aid adhesive and gently press it over the bridge of Yuuta’s nose. It’s Hello Kitty themed. It makes him want to scream.  

“Yeah, uh—sorry about that!” Yuuta apologizes, once again too loudly. He scratches at the back of his neck with his left hand, and his eyes go wide after a few beats, “No, wait—I didn’t mean to apologize again. I just... I, uh... thank you. That’s what I wanted to say. For helping me, you have my sincerest thank you.” 

Yuuta dips his head to bow, and when he raises it again, you’re blinking at him owlishly, and he thinks he’s really done it now. You must think he’s a freak, if you didn’t already. He thinks you’re gonna tell him off for being pathetic and a weakling, but instead you laugh again—that precious sound that pauses Yuuta’s world for the better.  

“You’re awfully formal. There’s no need for that, or to thank me. We’re friends, afterall,” you reassure him, “Even if Gojo did force you to be my practice dummy.” 

It’s his turn to reassure you, his uninjured hand moving from his neck to shake frantically in front of him, “It’s completely okay,” he does his best to give you a smile as warm as the one you give him. It probably doesn’t work, but he tries anyway—he’s always been an awkward smiler, too wide-mouthed and toothy, “You can do whatever you want to me, I trust you.”  

Your face seems almost solemn at his declaration, and the panic instantly kicks in again. Yuuta scrambles when his words play back in his head, “I’m sorry, was that weird? I meant that I trust your judgment. You can, uh, fix me up however you best see fit—or just leave it! I’m sure it’ll heal on—”

“You’re awfully self-sacrificing, too,” you cut him off with a laugh, your usual warm nature clicking back. Yuuta shrugs, feeble; you smile wider, “I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. I keep staring, and I’m sorry to have made you uncomfortable.” 

“Not at all! You don’t... make me uncomfortable, I mean. You could never,” Yuuta rushes, curling back into himself after his outburst, “You... it always feels really nice when you’re around. I can’t explain it, but everything is calmer.”

Your eyes flutter across his face, before you turn away from him, “I can tell it makes you nervous—I can hear the changes in your heartbeat,” you tell him, opening the cabinet to return the alcohol to its rightful place. You must also be able to hear his thoughts, chiming in just as Yuuta continues to wonder if his heartbeat is really that loud, “It’s part of my technique. I don’t mean to intrude on your heart.” 

Is it an intrusion if Yuuta left room for you? If he wanted you to be there? Was it crazy to think that he’d give you his heart to hold and trust you to take care of it, even though you’d only met a few months ago? Maybe it would be easier if he let you squeeze tight enough to put him out of his misery already.

Luckily, you keep talking before he can say something stupid like that out-loud again. 

“It’s just that... you remind me of somebody that I used to know. You’re kind like him, and you both share a well-intentioned recklessness, too. I see so much of him in you that it’s hard not to stare sometimes,” you admit, turning back to face him, and gingerly taking his wrist between your hands. When your hands start to glow, Yuuta can feel it—your reversed cursed technique is warm on the surface, but chilly underneath, like a heated blanket on top of perfectly cool sheets. 

“I don’t mean to say that you’re just a replacement,” you continue, slowly rotating your hands over his injury. It stings a little, then soothes, “I’m just still in awe of how nice it feels being around you. It feels strangely—” 

“Familiar,” Yuuta interjects, “I understand. You feel that way, too. I think... that’s what I meant before.” He understands your words perfectly because you remind him of someone precious to him, too; someone he used to and still loves alot. “You—it makes me happy, that’s why I seem so nervous.”

It seems as though you understand him, too. His heart sings, and you can probably hear it, but Yuuta doesn’t quite mind so much now. What he feels for you is consuming, maybe concerning, but knowing that you know what it’s like to love like him brings him an odd sense of comfort. Maybe he should be jealous that you’ve had someone to love that much before, but he’s not exactly in a position to talk. What matters is that you can hear him and feel him—his heart and his love and his sad and his happy, and it doesn’t push you away. 

It makes him want to burst. He owes you a thank you for putting something so precious in his life. He owes you an apology, for ever doubting that you couldn’t handle his symptoms. He should have realized that you can handle his love.

“You feel really warm, too,” he blushes, scratching at the back of his neck with his free hand, “And, uh, not just because you’re holding my hand.” 

The twinkle in your eyes turns into confusion, then surprise when you look down to see that the hand below his wrist had moved to rest underneath his palm instead. His wrist was well healed by now, and you’d been, effectively, massaging his skin and muscles with your technique for the latter duration of your conversation without realizing it. 

Yuuta couldn’t tell when it went from healing to hand holding, but he’s not complaining—and he doesn’t think he could have stopped it either. Another quality to your technique that he couldn’t understand was how your energy felt sticky, flowed like honey; how it managed to run into broken crevices and bruised dents with a mind of its own. Even if he’d wanted to pull his hand away—and he didn’t, he absolutely did not—he wouldn’t have gotten far from you. He never wanted to be. 

“You already have calluses on your palm,” you note, dispelling your healing energy, holding onto Yuuta’s hand only by want now, “You train hard. You’ll catch up to Maki and Toge, quickly, but not if you don’t take care of yourself.” 

Yuuta almost chokes when you rotate your wrist so that your fingers are aligned. Your hand is so much softer than his, warmer than his, and maybe he’s idealistic, but your fingers seem to slot perfectly between his when you curl them. 

“I’m not always going to be around to fix you up,” you warn him, “So don’t go around pissing Maki off too much, alright?” 

Yuuta can feel the heat from your body flow through him. From his palm, up his arm, down into his chest, and everywhere else. It doesn’t feel real. You’re holding his hand, you’re smiling at him, you’re right there and you’re so bright and beautiful, so Yuuta doesn’t know why his thoughts are so gray and dangerous; you wouldn’t hurt him, and he doesn’t want to hurt you, so why can’t he stop thinking about keeping you like this—of stitching your hands together forever to keep you by his side, or letting this heat consume and burn you both. 

Yuuta shakes his head to wiggle those thoughts away, but to you it seems like he’s saying no to staying off of Maki’s radar. When he realizes it, he nods too reverently to make up for it; surely looking like an idiot, and then to top it off, he squeaks, “I—yes, ma’am!” 

Another foolish outburst on his end, perhaps, but it makes you giggle, fills the room with springtime for a moment, so to Yuuta, it was worth it. “Good,” you nod, release his hand and beckon him off of the chair, “Come on, we should go eat before Panda takes all the good sides for himself.” 

Yuuta follows you back to the dorms with his stomach already full of love, love, love. He loves you, and you can hear, and see, and feel exactly what you do to him, and you don’t run. Yuuta thinks maybe you should, even though he doesn’t want you to. Surely you know what he did to Rika when he loved her. 

Rika seems to like you, actually, if the humming of her voice in his head as he takes his seat at the table next to you is any indication. He can vaguely make out some of her words as you pass him the dumplings—warm, kind, loyal. He agrees. Pretty, too. No disagreement there. 

In such a short amount of time, you’ve shifted Yuuta’s ethos for life. He wanted to die to be with the person he loved before, and never quite understood why Rika would stop him, why she would want him to suffer in this life alone; but maybe this is what Rika was always trying to tell him; that his love was not lost and buried with her, but flowing towards you, his heart, a beacon for you to locate. 

You’d mentioned that he reminded you of someone you knew before, that you couldn’t see anymore. Yuuta doesn’t know what happened to your person before he came along; he can only hope that you’ll allow him and his heart to be a vessel for your love someday, too. He won’t disappoint you. He won’t let you let go of him. 

It shouldn’t be hard. You already have his heart in your hands. 

#2 — Gojo is more than a teacher. He is also the school event planner, once ranked Diamond in Overwatch, and is the only person blacklisted from any and all kitchens on campus. He also gives pretty good (sometimes questionable?) advice. His eyes are kind of scary.  

You’re there when he and Toge are nearly decimated by the Grade 1 curse in the abandoned market. He still doesn’t understand much about sorcery at this point, so seeing people like you and Toge in action is awe-inspiring to say the least. Yuuta knows that Toge is nothing short of amazing, but he can’t help but to be drawn into you, you, you—your energy, your fighting style, the seemingly never-ending applications of your technique. Cursed energy in and of itself is still a foreign concept to him, so perhaps it’s that seeing you use the reverse of it so effortlessly is even more novel to him. 

He can hear Rika strumming in the back of his mind, an indistinct itch and hum that sounds vaguely like laughter at his self-justification. He chooses to ignore her. 

After, while he’s still buzzing with the tingly warm sensation of your technique after you’d patched him up, Gojo finds him, and Yuuta, unable to keep up a façade, pours all his anxious, worried, inquisitive feelings about his mission on the table. 

“The way that (_____) can heal wounds... is that something I can learn?” Yuuta questions his teacher, eyes tired but genuine and earnest.  

And Gojo, all knowing and absolutely singing at the implications, smiles so wide he’s certain his newest student could see the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, even through the dark tint of his glasses. “Maybe.”  

He goes on, leaning back into the old loveseat, one leg crossed over his other knee, “You’ll probably be able to learn to heal yourself with reversed cursed technique, but using it to heal others is difficult and rare. Shoko and (_____) are the only people I know who can do it.”

“Is… did she get to learn it because she’s a Grade 1?” He remembers Maki explaining the ranking system for Jujutsu sorcerers. You and Toge were ranked the highest in the class, and amongst the other Kyoto students; it would make sense that you two have learned more applications of your techniques due to your higher placements.

Gojo chuckles, much to Yuuta’s confusion. “That’s not quite how it works—and if it were, then you’d already know because you’re a Special Grade. You don’t unlock new lessons as you move up, you move up because of how well you’ve learned to control and apply your own cursed technique.”

Right. That makes sense. Except Yuuta knows that his classification of Special Grade is a bit of a cheat because he can’t control or apply his cursed energy half as well as any of his classmates. He has Rika to thank for his immediate promotion, not himself or his own skills.

“In any case, if you do learn it, you’ll never be able to execute it like her, that’s for certain. Reversed cursed technique is complicated to learn and nearly impossible to teach. It’s one of those things you truly have to figure out for yourself when the timing is right—I only got it when I was on the brink of death. It’s 100% effective on the person doing it, but only 50% effective when applied to other people by the user,” Gojo says, “Except for (_____). She was born with reversed cursed energy, which is why she has an almost 100% output on herself and others, so she’s extra special. ”

Yuuta frowns. He never expected to do anything half as well as you, but knowing there’s only half a chance that he could, literally, only ever meet you half-way is frustrating. You can save him time and time and time again, as you already have, and all he can do is be a wound for you to stitch back together. 

It must be difficult for you. A similar thought had crossed his mind when he first met Shoko-san, feeling bad for her having to carry the burden of healing others, knowing that she could never receive the same treatment in return. It’s worse for you, though, to be an angel amongst the men on this Earth—it’s not fair that you can give so much to help, and nobody can do the same for you. Yuuta wants to give something to you, he wants to devote himself to you, so at the very least, you have that. If he can’t give you anything else, he can give you himself.

Gojo laughs at Yuuta’s silence, kicking his legs up on the coffee table. “That’s hard for you to hear, huh? Ha! You truly are a lover, not a fighter, Yuuta.”

Yuuta blinks at him. “I, uh... thank you?” He says, even though he’s not so certain that those two things are discernable.  

“Right now, the best thing for you to do is focus on controlling Rika and your cursed energy. That way, (_____) can also focus on fighting, and not healing, when you’re on missions together. The stronger you are, the less she’ll have to clean up after you,” Gojo advises.

He puts his feet back on the floor and uses the leverage to lean over, a bit too close for Yuuta’s comfort. “The only thing you can do for her is to learn to help yourself.”

Yuuta’s eyes go wide. He wants to—he wants to help you, wants to help himself, wants to help others, too. There’s a selfish twang for a moment, the thought of not needing you anymore tugging at his heart, but Rika reminds him that he’ll still want you. 

Then an even scarier thought crosses his mind. “What happens if I don’t learn to control this? What happens if I curse her instead?”

Yuuta trembles at the thought, breathing and heartbeat erratic, his sensei moving back a bit. Rika is there again, reassuring him that he never hurt her, that his love never hurts, that the only person he’s ever truly harmed is himself by isolation of his own feelings. Trust her, Rika demands, she can handle this.

You can. Can you? You have, so far. You don’t run, you don’t push, you give, and give, and give to him; Rika was kind and playful and took and took and took Yuuta’s loneliness and sickness in stride and he still cursed her, seemingly for all eternity. He wants to love and be loved, but not if it means hurting you—isn’t it bad enough that he’s already inept at healing your wounds? Why should he risk giving you more?

“Yuuta,” Gojo calls him out of his thoughts, “I’m disappointed.” 

That truly breaks Yuuta’s cyclical monologue. “I—disappointed?” 

Gojo ticks his tongue, shakes his head and points a finger in accusation, “You should know your fellow classmates better by now. (_____) is not that weak or scared,” he chastises, “You’re so worried about cursing her that you haven’t realized that she is the only person so far to have effectively used her curse on you.”

Yuuta pauses, eyes wet with the awful realization that Gojo was right. You have already cursed him; your technique has already gotten past the barrier of his curse. You’ve cursed him. He never stopped to think that it was possible, worried only about himself. How selfish—he shares Gojo’s disappointment in himself. 

He’s spent so much time loathing his jealous mind and decaying heart that he hasn’t opened his eyes to see you that you’ve found him. You can poison anything he does, and make the antidote with equal ease; how stupidly naive of Yuuta to think that he could be the one to diagnose or treat you better than you could him, or yourself. 

“I’m sorry, sensei,” Yuuta dips his head, and also spares you an internal apology, “I understand better, now.”

“Is that so?” Gojo muses, leaning back into the sofa. His eyes scan Yuuta’s when his head is raised again, that knowing grin creeping back up on his lips. “Well, if you still want to know more about reversed curse technique, or want help learning it, it’s not an entirely lost cause. I’m definitely not the person for this lesson, but, you know who is?” 

Yuuta feels a sense of whiplash from the change in Gojo’s demeanor. Confusion clouds his mind again, and he shrugs, “Um... Shoko-sensei?” 

Gojo makes a loud buzzer noise, complete with crossing his arms in front of his chest in a big ‘X.’ Yuuta frowns again. Is that where Toge learned to do that? 

“Wrong! I’m talking about (_____), obviously!” Gojo claps his hands together, before lowering his glasses to wiggle his eyebrows, “Tutoring is a textbook way to get some alone time, kiddo. You want to spend more time with her outside of class and missions, right?”

“I want to spend all my time with her,” Yuuta confesses, mindlessly. And foolishly, he soon realizes, when he sees that Gojo’s grin has tripled; and he’s quick to flash his hands to correct himself, “No—not like that—not in a creepy way! I just... I want to get to know her better, like you said.”

Yuuta’s awkward chuckles fill the space, and he can feel his insides burning from his cheeks all the way down to his hands. Would he ever be able to think coherently or tactfully when it came to you? 

“So, uh... I... it’s okay if I ask her about this stuff, too?” 

“Some sorcerers don’t like talking about their cursed techniques. But (_____) might not mind. You won’t know until you try.” 

Yuuta nods shallowly. Try. He can do that—if not for himself, then for you; he can try for you. All you need from him is to accept your course of treatment; to love you is to let you curse him, completely. 

“I’m a firm believer that all’s fair in love and war,” Gojo stands, stretching into Yuuta’s space to ruffle his hair. He leans down further, giving him a glimpse of his glowing eyes before sparing him a wink, “So, be a little greedy, and give it your best shot.”

#3 — Social media is the most twisted curse out there. It makes you feel so close, yet is a stark reminder of just how far you are from the person on the other end of the screen. 

Yuuta has never considered himself good with technology. Even before Rika’s incident, he often felt ostracized by his peers because he didn’t have the same interest in or experience with games and cartoons. He had no reason to have a computer or a phone until enrolling at Jujutsu Tech, and there was an evident learning curve in navigating the devices. Toge often snickered watching Yuuta use his smartphone with the dexterity of a senior citizen. 

He only barely set up Instagram and TikTok accounts with Toge’s help, but he doesn’t really get the idea of followers—why would people who don’t know him want to follow him? Why would he follow them? He doesn’t know many memes or jokes and even after seeing them, he doesn’t think many are all that funny, but he laughs anyway. 

He doesn’t have much time to perfect his social media and meme skills, anyway. He’s dedicated to training and gaining mission experience—which pays off when Geto declares war on the school by the end of the year. Yuuta remembers how you returned his phone to him the next day, a few cracks and black, dark spots on the screen, giggling that you’d found it in the rubble, but that even your reverse cursed technique couldn’t fix its scars. 

He thinks he gets the hang of it in the end—the basics of communication and the appeal behind connection with others through it—even going so far as to trade selfies with Gojo sometimes, who always seemed happy to receive them, no matter how much post-exorcism curse gunk Yuuta was covered in. 

He also frequently exchanges texts with you. He much prefers to see you in person, but when you’re stuck for long hours in the ER, or away from campus on your own missions, Yuuta has grown fond of receiving your messages. He always attempts to read them in your voice and imagine your facial expressions to match those of the emojis you send. He hasn’t quite gotten the hang of those yet, doesn’t understand what Toge means when he says that not all smiley faces are created equally, so to save himself the trouble, and potential embarrassment, he’s opted to use emoticons instead. Which, if you asked him, has been working out in his favor, seeing as you call them cute. 

Yuuta also uses the safety of his phone screen to implement some of Gojo’s advice; picking your brain about curses, sorcery, and healing via text message for just long enough for you to say it’s easier to explain in person to come to him and teach him in your spare time. Soon these study sessions turn into texts asking to hang out outside of class and missions and work, and Yuuta couldn’t be more elated. The screen he once scorned at seemed to be his one-way ticket to being able to talk to his favorite person constantly. 

But Yuuta never thought it would become his only means of communication with you. He’s devastated when you break the news to him, over half-finished oolong tea and nervous finger-twiddling. 

“You’re leaving?” He echoes, hoping he doesn’t sound too much like a heartbroken child, even though that’s exactly how he feels. 

It’s quiet outside of the tea shop where you two sit, nearing seven in the evening; only the soft sounds of other customers conversing behind you two inside, distant cars on the main street, and the sound of Yuuta’s heart beating frantically.  

“Not leaving leaving,” you clarify, pausing your finger twirling to place one of your hands over Yuuta’s on the table, “I’m still studying, but I’m being sent abroad for a bit.” 

He should be focused on the fact that you’re touching his hand—Yuuta should be happy! Rika still cheers for you in his mind, but her voice is quieter now—but Yuuta can’t. He’s focused on everything else, spiraling about the implications of your words. You’re leaving... going away from him when things are going so well. 

Yuuta was so happy when you taught him the reversed curse technique, even happier when he realized he did have the ability to heal others, knowing it also meant having the ability to help you relieve some of your burdens. That didn’t mean that he didn’t still want to give himself to you, he would if you’d have him—but now he wouldn’t have the chance.  

“I haven’t told anyone else yet—Gojo only told me this morning,” you mumble, “I’m going to miss you all a lot, but we can still text every day! I don’t know how long the time difference will be, but we can FaceTime.” 

It’s not lost on Yuuta that he is the first person that you’ve told about this. It’s another thing to be happy about, another little victory he never thought he’d achieve, but it’s still overpowered by the dread of you leaving him. 

He blinks, placing his other hand atop yours, sandwiching them between his, “How long?” Yuuta can’t read the expression on your face, but you don’t pull your hand away. He’s glad. He didn’t think when he’d done it, but the lack of rejection feels good—your touch always feels good, reverse cursed energy or not. 

“I’m… not sure—a few months at least, maybe until the end of the year,” you admit, squeezing his hand, “There are some cursed objects and scrolls they want me to help recover, and Gojo says I get to work with another Special Grade sorcerer, too.” 

His hands feel so good, so warm, but everything else about Yuuta feels cold, icy with dread and fear. You’re going away for a long time, and he won’t get to see you or hear you laugh or feel your warmth while you’re gone. His sunny days are going away, and Yuuta honestly doesn’t know how many more overcast skies and rain clouds he can take.

And it’s selfish, he knows. He should be happy for you—you were chosen for this mission, for this training; you’re getting the chance to use your skills to help others, and train even further. So, why couldn’t he be happy for you? Why could he only feel a pit in his stomach about the thought of you leaving and meeting some other Special Grade who’s rightfully deserving of their title? Not only had he lost the thing that brought him to you in the first place, but you’re about to find another replacement. Sure, with or without Rika’s curse, Yuuta had become so much stronger, but what’s it worth if he couldn’t keep you by his side?

“Tsukumo is supposed to be really cool, but you’ll always be my favorite Special Grade, Yuuta,” you taunt with a smile. 

Yuuta’s eyes go wide and watery with wobbly lips and flushed cheeked and sweaty palms to match. Favorite. Favorite, favorite, favorite. The word spoken in your voice rings in his head like a beautiful chime, the tones washing over him and erasing all his fear and doubt and insecurity. 

You had called Yuuta your favorite. Sure, he’s still upset when he and the other first-years drop you off at the airport too weeks later, he still cries the first night you’re gone, still nearly breaks his knee trying to jump for his phone the first time that you call; but it’s okay because Yuuta is living off of the temporary high of being your favorite. 

And also, because, in the end, your separation seems to have been inevitable. Not a month after everyone bids you farewell from Jujutsu Tech, Gojo tells him that he’s next on the docket to be sent abroad. He’s happy for a split second, thinking that he might get sent off to Europe where you’re still working with Tsukumo, but then Yuuta learns his true fate: studying under the tutelage of Miguel in Kenya; equal parts away from his classmates in Tokyo, and from you in Barcelona. 

Whoever said distance makes the heart grow fonder was a liar and a bitch, because the favorite boy honeymoon comes to an end when Yuuta settles into his new room and makes his first call to you from Nairobi. The feeling and reality of being alone, and even further away from you finally hits him. Still, he relishes in the sound of your voice; fantasizes that when you reach for your phone to show him your new things, it’s you reaching for his hand; dreams of you laying next to him when you fall asleep on the call, and desperately wishes that he could touch you, hold you, kiss you. 

He really wants to kiss you. He thinks he’s probably always wanted to kiss you, from the very moment his feelings for you started to grow; even if he couldn’t discern them at first, he knows now—Yuuta knows that he misses you like he’s never missed anyone before. The grief of losing part of Rika, and then losing his proximity to you merely weeks apart is finally catching up to him, and it’s morphing into a yearning that tugs on his heartstrings and rattles his brain. 

He knows that the rate of growth of his feelings for you hasn’t been steady, but he blames you for that. You’re the reason he loves you so much, the reason he can’t sleep at night, the reason he learns how to bring Rika back—because he thinks of you, you, you, and how he lost Rika once, and he’d be a fool to lose you twice.

Yuuta thinks it’s no coincidence that your cursed technique has the ability to alter him in mind and body. You have so much ownership over him and you probably don’t even know that Yuuta has spent every single moment of his life living and breathing for you since you’ve met. 

And you take his breath away yet again, when he gets to see you in Germany. Miguel is taking him to Switzerland on a classified mission, and you and Tsukumo are on your way to Austria, and by some great miracle, your layovers align. When he sees you waving to him down the long corridor in the airport, it feels like a scene straight out of his dreams. Yuuta spares no time trying to look cool or nonchalant; making a beeline to you, desperate to feel your touch after so long. 

He’s breathless in those ten minutes that you’re reunited. Everything is too short, but he does his best to live in it all. He speaks a mile a minute, cramming in anything he hadn’t already revealed to you in your many late-night FaceTimes, and swallowing everything you tell him. He wants to believe that he’d made the best of what little time he had with you, but the truth is he didn’t. Because while you were smiling and hugging and telling him that you missed him, all Yuuta really wanted to do was kiss you—and if he were a smarter man, a better man, he would have. 

He thinks, for a split second, that you might have wanted to kiss him too—when you rock back on your heels after saying good-bye, hesitating for just a moment, almost expectantly, before your eyes flutter away. He’ll never know, because he never asked, he never tried, he never said—only whispered, pathetically, to himself as he watches the silhouette of you and Tsukomo before you disappear for boarding, that he loves you. 

He almost believes that you hear it when you turn over your shoulder after his quiet confession. Would it have been better that way—if he kissed you, or confessed in the heat of the moment—or would it be taking advantage of an otherwise beautiful moment? Yuuta will never know, and the what if tantalizes him.

He takes his phone out of his pocket and opens the thread of your messages. He starts typing, then stops. Backspace. Start typing. Pause. Read, re-read. Delete. Groan. 

What’s the point? He can’t kiss you through the screen, and he’ll be damned if the first time he tells you that he’s in love with you is via phone call. He slumps his shoulders, and Miguel gives him a pity pat on the back. Yuuta goes to lock his phone when he sees the gray thought bubbles pop up below your last message and his entire body goes rigid in anticipation. 

[received] 03:27 PM — [attachment: 1 image] — you should keep a closer eye on your things yuuta — i miss you already (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤ 

Yuuta’s heart stops when he sees the picture of you in your seat, wearing his white uniform jacket. He doesn’t know when you snuck it away from him, but that doesn’t matter—like anything else, he would have willingly given it to you, and then some. It looks much better on you anyway, and Yuuta pinches his eyes shut for a brief moment, to swallow down the thoughts threatening to swarm his mind of you in his arms, in other clothes, in his bed. 

He opens his eyes, takes a deep breath, and lets the warm, gooey feeling settle into his veins, and moves his fingers to type. 

[sent] 03:38 PM — keep it, you can have anything of mine you want — i miss you more (๑′ ᴗ ‵๑)♥

You heart his messages and let him know you’re taking off soon, and putting your phone on airplane mode until you land. He’s not so confident to send a picture in return, unless you ask for it. Maybe you will, when you’re in Austria. He’ll have to work on his selfies.

He takes another once over the picture you sent, committing the idea of you in his clothes to memory. He knows the messages won’t delete themselves, but he takes a screenshot for safekeeping anyway. Maybe phones aren’t so bad, afterall. 

#4 — Do not kill Itadori Yuuji. Under any circumstances. Even if some days you really feel like it. Also, sign up for a Crunchyroll subscription. 

Yuuta can confidently say that his training abroad was both the most difficult and fulfilling thing he’s ever experienced. He believes that the change he’s endured is mostly good—he’s physically stronger, emotionally wiser, and overall more confident in himself and his cursed technique. One year ago, he would have been content with dying, but now he has more than enough reasons to keep living. He has people who care about him, and who would miss him if he were gone; and he’s got someone he would miss a whole bunch, too, should anything happen to them.  

By miss Yuuta means that he might burn down a small town, might level a city, might flip the entire world on its axis if something were to happen to you. In his defense, he’d go to extremes for most of his friends—but for you, there’s truly nothing he wouldn’t risk.  

He figured that out in his time abroad, too; came to terms with the fact that he’s selfish with his love. He loves too much, too hard, too close, and he isn’t very willing to share. He doesn’t see it as a bad thing, anymore, either—Yuuta knows now that the way he loves makes him who he is, and right now, he has the confidence to say that he likes that person, and that he loves you, undoubtedly. 

So, forgive him if there’s a cloud of negative energy the size of a coach bus looming over him at the moment, because since you’ve returned to campus, Itadori Yuuji has been slobbering over you like a lovesick puppy.  

Because apparently, you happen to know Itadori Yuuji—as in, since you were four and he was three, all the way up until your senior year of highschool, when you were scouted by Gojo, who, believes that you coming home from your study abroad trip would be the perfect time to reunite two best friends who hadn’t seen or heard from each other for the better part of two years—all while keeping this little reunion a secret from everybody, including you and Itadori.

A surprise, it certainly is, when the first time that Yuuta and the other second-years see you in months is on the dingy couch in the common room, under a cuddle pile of the first-years. Nobara’s arms wrapped around your left arm, body slumped against your side, Megumi’s long limbs stretching over Itadori’s torso, leaving the palm of his hand resting on your thigh. Far too close for Yuuta’s comfort. The only saving grace is that the jacket he loaned you is also spread across your lap, offering another layer between your body and his palm. And then there’s Itadori Yuuji, squished right between you and Megumi, with his head on your shoulder, his arms around your waist, and your free arm slung around his neck. 

Yuuta should have been relishing in the fact that you were finally home, but all his focus is drawn to the way your position allows Itadori to cuddle right into you, to the way your arm is around his shoulder and your cheek pressed against the top of his head. You two might as well have been in your own little world, and Yuuta hates it. And, as if that’s not enough, the realization that he was not the first person to hug you or welcome you home clicks, and his anger bubbles deeper.  

Next comes dread, that creeps in slowly when you and the first-years wake up, and you and Itadori go on and on and on about how surprised you were to see each other at the airport, how Itadori just assumed that when Gojo said he’d assigned them to “pick up something super special,” that he was messing with them, how you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of your precious, precious kouhai that you’d missed so dearly.

Childhood best friends brought back together through sorcery. Yuuta’s seen that one before, and he didn’t like the ending.

You and Itadori mend the gap in your friendship like two years of no contact was nothing, falling into a pattern that’s so easy and familiar, that it’s painful for Yuuta to watch. The assumption that you’d died, and the knowledge that Yuuji had actually died only served to strengthen your vows to protect each other in the name of your friendship from here on out.  

Yuuta considers putting his own sword through his chest if it means you’ll swear your devotion to him. If he died, would you cry for him? Would you pray over his grave and beg for him to come back to you?—or would you find comfort in those who kept living, find solace in a friend who came back for you and can still hold you in his arms? 

“Tsuna tsuna,” he hears from his left, followed by a mischievous giggle. Toge’s taunting is hardly enough to pull Yuuta out of his cloud of rage, but the blunt end of Maki’s staff is.  

“Will you stop pining so damn hard?” she sneers, whipping the staff back to her side and placing a hand on her hip, “Not only is it pathetic, it’s gonna attract curses like flies to honey.”  

“Why am I the only one getting hit?” He turns to his right to motion to Megumi, who seems to be brooding just as hard. Megumi respects you, but it was easy to see that he was reaching his limit on sharing his recently revived lover with someone else. Maki huffs, “Because he doesn’t have a literal cloud of darkness looming around him.”  

Yuuta sighs, doing his best to reign in his feelings, but it’s pointless once he hears your laughter across the field—light and airy and sunshiney and all because of Itadori Yuuji. 

What were you two talking about? If Itadori were out of the way, would you pledge yourself to Yuuta? Did he ever hold a space comparable to Itadori in your heart—would you let him?

A broken chord strikes Yuuta’s heart when he realizes that Itadori is the person you told him about last year; the person you missed so much, and you never thought you’d be able to see again; the person that Yuuta reminded you of; the person he was happy and eager to be for you. And now, in knowing Itadori, Yuuta thinks that his willingness was beautifully naive—to think that he could compare to someone like this. Itadori is light, where Yuuta is dark; he sees the best in people, where Yuuta manages to come off on the wrong foot always; he perseveres in faith and determination, where Yuuta is fueled by an anxious desire to prove, prove, prove himself to be worth something to anybody. 

He can see how easy it is to love Itadori. It’s easy to cling to faith, to believe in something higher than yourself, to know that someone above can pull you up. Yuuta cannot compete where he cannot compare; he’s a shadow that engulfs you, takes you away from light, a dream that’s hard to wake up from. He could never be bright to you; his best attempt would probably drive you and him too close to the sun, martyred for love in burning flames.

Still, even in all his jealousy, Yuuta comes to the even more sobering realization that making Itadori disappear wouldn’t fix his problems. You told him he wasn’t Itadori’s replacement, but maybe that’s because he could never be him; maybe he doesn’t have to be. Yuuji could never be him, and he could never be Yuuji, but whether Yuuta likes it or not, he and Itadori are two sides of the same coin; and as such, Yuuta has, begrudgingly, grown to feel the same sense of responsibility over the younger boy that you do.

So, even though he never expected that they would both be at the mercy of your hand at the same time in this lifetime, he absolutely cannot kill Itadori Yuuji. Not only would it make you sad, but it would probably make Yuuta even sadder in the end, somehow. What a bother. 

He’s about to get up—to leave, maybe go over there, he doesn’t know yet—but he stops when he hears a calm buzzing by his ear. Yuuta blinks, slowly, shoulders relaxing unconsciously, allowing the larger than normal honey-bee to land on him. He recognizes it as one of your shikigami—and even if he hadn’t, that familiar, cooling sensation that washes over him would have let him know—so, gently, he lifts a hand across his torso, allowing it to crawl onto his finger, and strum its tune.

Yuuta can feel a few more, hear them humming around him, and he closes his eyes, lets the small group of bees flutter around him and all that looming jealousy dissipates from his body. 

Faintly, past the calm hum of the small swarm, Yuuta can hear the call of Yuuji’s voice, petulant, “Aw, no fair. Fushiguro, I want calming shikigami, too! Can you bring out the bunnies? Please.” 

Beside him, Toge and Maki seem bemused by his newly calmed state, then amused when Megumi sighs, stands, and reluctantly pulls his hands together before a couple dozen white rabbits flood the field and hop onto Yuuji. 

The buzzing grows softer, and then quiet. Briefly, Yuuta feels a bee land on his cheek, before it flies away, leaving the smell of fresh pollen in his wake, and when he blinks his eyes open again, you’re there, in front of him with a smile sweeter than anything he’s ever known. 

“Hope they didn’t scare you,” you muse, waving a finger before the last bee hovering around you disappears, “You seemed upset, everything alright?” 

He’s about to open his mouth to say something, anything, when he’s cut off by Itadori Yuuji once again, with one bunny on either shoulder, and three more cradled in his arms. “Hey, doesn’t (_____) totally remind you guys of Sakura!”  

Maki scoffs, albeit with amusement, as she points her staff at Yuuji’s hair. “If anyone bears resemblance to Sakura, it’s you, Itadori.”  

Yuuji actually makes an attempt to look at his own hair before chuckling. Yuuta flashes a look to Megumi, who looks equal parts exasperated and enchanted. Yuuta doesn’t get the reference, and when Inumaki starts making gestures about how Yuuji is like some Naruto guy and Yuuji screams about how Megumi resembles a Shikamaru, he becomes too afraid to ask.  

You seemed charmed at the end of the discussion, when everybody fundamentally agrees that you’re the Sakura of the group. Yuuta is far less charmed by these comparisons (and it has nothing to do with the fact that he didn’t get one). He doubts that this Sakura person can do what you can do, doubts that Sakura is even worthy enough to be compared to you, whoever she may be. 

And maybe Yuuta goes back to his room to watch several compilation videos about ships in Naruto later that day, but nobody has to know that. From what he’s gathered, Sakura is pretty cool, and even though Yuuji bears the most physical resemblance to her, he can see why everyone agrees that your healing abilities compare well to hers. Yuuta thinks you’re better, and he’s still holding out hope that there’s some other character equivalent for you that Itadori didn’t think of, that Yuuta can, just to prove that he knows you better. He doesn’t fight any comparisons between Gojo and Kakashi, though. That one honestly freaked him out a little. 

If it turns out that you’re Sakura, then he should hope to be Sasuke, but Yuuta thinks this dude is kind of a dick. From the 47 minutes of scattered Naruto content that he’s consumed, he actually much prefers the dynamic between Sakura and Naruto, even if that does equate to Itadori Yuuji having a crush on you, at least you’re out of his league and chasing after somebody else. 

Still, he thinks Sakura would be upset if Naruto actually died, or worse, if Sasuke actually killed him—never mind the fact that apparently he tried to kill her? Yuuta would never do that, but Sakura still seems to like Sasuke after all of that... in any case, Itadori Yuuji must live, and Yuuta must accept his fate as Sasuke reborn. 

Though, to Yuuta’s understanding so far, Sasuke and Naruto are destined to duke it out and if only one of them has to survive, then maybe it’s not so bad to be this guy. Yuuta doesn’t know how it ends between them, but he thinks he could take on Itadori Yuuji if he had to. He won’t because he’s your friend, and Yuuta’s friend now, too, but if Itadori or the curse inside of him acts up, then Yuuta can at least rest assured he can put a stop to it. That’s not something he could have guaranteed a year ago, but now, he can. 

Yuuta sighs, finally locking his phone and shoving his head under his blanket. He’s been knee deep in analyses about Sakura ships for the past two and a half hours now, and he’ll admit Sasuke is growing on him, but not much. His only saving grace seems to be that Sakura is madly, unconditionally in love with him; Yuuta wouldn’t mind having that kind of devotion from you. He turns to lay on his back, staring up at the blank ceiling and wonders: if it came down to saving only one of them, would Sakura pick Naruto or Sasuke... would you choose the boy who’s loved and looked up to you since you were kids, or the boy who sacrificed everything in hopes of gaining enough strength so that what happened to him never happens to anyone else. 

Maybe they answer that in the series, Yuuta reasons. 720 episodes, at 20 minutes per episode... if he devotes about half-a-day to watching Naruto, then he can breeze through it in a little over two weeks, maybe sooner if he uses his weekends efficiently. That’s plausible, and by the end of it, Yuuta is certain that he’ll have the answers he needs—and even if it doesn’t, then at least, he’ll have one more thing to talk to you about.

In the end, Sakura picks Sasuke, Naruto marries somebody else, and Yuuta understands that the two were never opposites, but complements, and that Itadori Yuuji-shaped pit in his stomach dissipates. Still, about three weeks later at breakfast he makes the argument that if anything you’re more akin to Tsunade, minus the gambling addiction, and that gets him rave reactions from everyone, including you, who is more than happy to show him your new slug shikigami as a means of commemorating your new Naruto kin. 

Believe that, Itadori. 

#5 — None of this matters if you don’t kiss her. You have to kiss the girl—or she’ll get mad enough to the point where she’ll kiss you.

The following month comes your indictment into the Semi-Special Grade hall of responsibility. Yuuta vaguely recalls Gojo’s lecture on how people don’t really get promoted to Special Grade—it’s classification you’re born or cursed with, like himself, or Yuuji, or Tsukumo—but, you, of course, defy all odds and expand everything Yuuta knows. Nobody is surprised—Yuuta thinks everyone was among the similar thought that you were undoubtedly unique amongst your classmates, in a way that was different from him or Yuuji. Being born with a body that generates reversed cursed energy instead of cursed energy is deserving of Special Grade status if you asked him; he doesn’t know what pushed the higher-ups into finally acknowledging your skill, but he knows it’s well-past due. And while he’s happy you’re getting recognition for your efforts, Yuuta would never wish to saddle you with half of the shit the higher-ups put him through. 

They better hope that Yuuta doesn’t find out that they’re plotting anything with you, lest they meet the end of his sword.

Part of your promotion entails a dual-degree program that will have you starting medical school next fall. Yuuta almost cries at the thought of you being sent away again, until you tell him that Gojo managed to pull a few strings this time—to fund everything and keep you in Tokyo. 

And even though you’re not licensed to treat civilians yet, you’re already more than experienced with taking care of and healing your fellow sorcerers, which lends Shoko’s promotional gift to be a shiny new office, right across from hers. Yuuta is the first person you invite inside, and he brings you a photo of you, him, Maki, and Toge from last year—honestly, probably the only photo the four of you have together—to christen your desk, and a plaque with your name on it for the door, that he may or may not have fantasized about it reading with your first name and his last name on it instead.

To no surprise, your office becomes a safe haven of sorts. Yuuta would define any time or place with you as a safe haven, but there’s something special about this place. Maybe Yuuta is still leaping from this being the second time you’ve chosen him. He’s the first person to see your office, the first person to sit at your chair, your first official patient when he stubs his toe against the corner of your desk (where he left the first decorative object). Maybe it’s a little far to say that this place has him all over it as much as it does you, but Yuuta likes the sound of that. 

When he comes back from gruesome missions, he’s invited to let himself in, no matter how much blood he’s covered in, and you’ll be there to take care of him. It’s not different than before—not different than even last year when he’d waddled in your shadow to the room across the hall and sat down with heart palpitations while you fixed his wrist—but something about this feels special. It holds a different weight than hanging out in your dorm or cooking together in the kitchen; this office is yours, the things you say and do to him here are confidential, the yearning for and almost-kisses you almost have are for you and him alone; within these four walls, you’re free to curse him completely. 

So, he’s understandably upset when your office becomes a cozy corner for the other students as well. Maki likes to take refuge inside to study alone, Panda and Toge have been caught on more than one occasion attempting to wrap gauze around each other like zombies, Megumi uses your supplies and basic first-aid lessons to prepare small kits for him and the other first-years, hell, even Gojo has been found asleep in your office on more than one occasion. He gets why people are drawn to you like a magnet, why you’re comforting, and welcoming, and a source of warmth for them, but that doesn’t mean that Yuuta likes to share you. It’s much harder to almost-kiss you this way. 

He must have pouted loud enough about it, because shortly after, instead of inviting Yuuta to your office for lunch, you ask him to meet you on the field. Not one to question you, he obeys, and soon, instead he’s met with an entirely new safe haven, sitting criss-cross inside your domain with all your shikigami slithering and fluttering and buzzing about him. A butterfly lands on his nose, and Yuuta’s nose crinkles. You lean in to let it crawl on your finger instead, and don’t lean too far back when you slowly begin to explain to him the intricacies of your domain and how it all comes together. 

It’s amazing, surely. Yuuta listens as best he can, but it’s hard when there’s a halo of butterflies around you, and a symphony of bees buzzing in his ear, and a slug kissing at his hand, and a snake coiling around his body and gently massaging his muscles, and your voice sound so soft and warm, and you look so pretty and, and, and he wants to kiss you again. 

He wants to kiss you really badly. He wonders if that’s part of your domain—honestly, he’d wondered if that magnetic, honey-like attraction he has to you is in any part influenced by your healing nature—wonders if the confines of your space exacerbates the flow of blood to his heart and his cheeks and his—

“Are you listening?” you question, that glowing, addictive smile on your face, “You know I can make the snake bite, the bees sting.” 

God, Yuuta wants to kiss you. He wants to live in the spring garden of your love forever, and ever, and roll around in the grass and drink honey with you, and kiss you and kiss you and kiss you. You could keep him here forever, he’d be perfectly content with living his days wrapped up in your curse. 

Yuuta shakes his head to snap out of his daydream, disrupting a few butterflies in the process. “I—sorry,” he apologies, “I’m listening now.”

You hum, folding your legs underneath your knees and sitting before him. Yuuta’s certain he looks slightly ridiculous, covered head to toe in animals and small insects and burning underneath your gaze—wasn’t this domain supposed to help people feel better? Is there no cure for lovesickness that you can use on him—or, at the very least, embarrassment?

“I asked you why you won’t kiss me.” 

Yuuta knows that if he weren’t in your domain right now, he would have fallen to a sudden death. “I—I, um,” words, Yuuta, words; a bee lands on his cheek, he takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry.” 

That doesn’t seem like the right answer, judging by the twist of your lips. Of course it’s not—because it’s a lie, and you know it, and you know he knows that you know it. How could he be sorry for wanting you, for spending every last waking moment breathing for you, hoping that you’ll end his laborious breaths and pour air into him yourself?

“You know, I brought you in here to make sure that you wouldn’t run or pass out on me,” you confess, reaching out your hand towards him; the tip of your finger barely grazes his cheek as you allow the bee to crawl onto you, “I worry about your heart more than I should.” 

You flick your finger gently, allowing the bee to flutter freely and your eyes to focus back on Yuuta’s, “Right now, in this domain, it’s mine to control. To stop, to beat.” It’s yours outside of here, too; to fix, to break. He knows. He knows, he knows, he knows. “Why won’t you let me have it, Yuuta?” 

Yuuta gasps, and despite his surprise, despite his extreme lovesickness, despite his dark desires, his heartbeat remains steady, his body remains perfectly tempered and cool, his voice resonates clearly—all because of you. 

“You’ve always had it,” he confesses, “Always. From the moment I met you.” 

He can’t read your expression. He’s suddenly hyper aware of the power struggle here; domain aside, you can hear everything about him, sense the slightest physiological change in him, alter any one of his bodily functions at your whim and Yuuta doesn’t know what goes on in you. Would it be wrong to confess that he likes it; that this feels like you having him, that he likes knowing you can take him? 

“I thought so, maybe,” you enlighten him, “Last year with all the calls and texts,” you lean over and set free a butterfly from his shoulder, “And then in the airport,” then guiding the snake to coil around your arm and around your torso, “And then I thought maybe you’d have said something when you were jealous of Yuuji,” this time your hand touches him, a feather-light touch to his elbow, “But you didn’t, and I was beginning to wonder if I was hearing your heart beat for someone else, instead.” 

Yuuta grabs at your hand erratically, “No—no. Never.” 

He’s senselessly in love with you, and if it weren’t for your healing hands, Yuuta’s certain his ribs would have cracked from the pressure of his happy heart by now; but then again, maybe he should ask you to let it break—let that fracture serve as an entry point for you and yours, to prove to you that it beats for you and you alone. 

“So then what is with you? You have a habit of giving girls your heart and not kissing them, or asking them out—is it always straight to marriage with you?” 

It’s torture hearing that word fall from your lips. He doesn’t have time to even begin to process it. Yuuta’s eyes flicker to the smile on your lips, the slight tilt of your head. He says something he shouldn’t, “Would you be opposed to that?” 

“I’d like a kiss first,” you tease, “Would you give me one?” 

And how could he ever deny you anything. There, with a harmony of beautiful insects and warm sunlight, Yuuta finally, finally, takes the last move forward to kiss you. It’s everything he wants and exactly as he’d imagined—he can feel the rush in his bones, the want in his stomach, the love against his skin when you fall into him. 

It’s one kiss, and another, and then Yuuta can feel your tongue against his, greedily falling into the rush of you. He’s everywhere, hands on your neck, lips on yours, body stradling yours when he carefully leans you backwards; Yuuta has you, and you have him, and he won’t let this moment go to waste. He pulls away for a moment, only a moment, to take in your kiss-swollen lips and commit this vision to memory. He’ll have to take another visual photograph outside of your domain, when your bodies are free to breathe erratically and equilibrium is broken so you and truly, truly, feel all of Yuuta’s love in earnest. 

He wonders if it’s the effect of your domain that prevents his nerves from running haywire when you take off his shirt, when you let him take off your pants, when you have your hands on his chest and his on your hips. It must be. Yuuta knows for certain that otherwise, he’d be a blushing mess of fumbling limbs and stuttering words. 

Still, Yuuta thinks, domain or no domain, he wouldn’t let this moment pass him. It’s not nerves when his hand brushes over your clothed clit and he hears you moan—even if it had been, that would have been the antidote to his poison. Lust, pressure, possession wash over him in excruciating waves. He wants more. He wants you. 

Impatience when he adds pressure with his hand, bliss when you buck your hips to add more of your own, greedily grinding against his fingers. Yuuta kisses you again, swallows your moans and feeds you his own when slips his hand past the barrier of your underwear, and he feels your warm, wet cunt against his fingertips for the first time, and when he pushes two fingers into your heat, he thinks he could cum right then and there, from this alone. 

“Yu—Yuuta, more,” you plead. Your hand on his neck, fingernails scraping into his skin that should leave a mark. They probably won’t. He’ll be sure that next time they stick. 

And Yuuta, unable to deny you anything, obeys. He curls his fingers inside of you, thrusting gently at first, and then with more confidence—and warning, when he hears you snarl about not teasing. Ironic, he thinks, as he watches your lips fall open, since you’ve had him strung along since day one. 

“I wanna—wanna cum with you inside,” you moan, a sound that Yuuta promises to commit to memory. Later, when his brain is working better, and the coil in his stomach isn’t so tight, and you’re not clenching around his fingers. 

You’re greedy, and Yuuta’s never realized it. You suck him in and still want more, and you must know that he’ll give it to you. It should serve as a warning, you have the high-ground to take him any which way you want—for a fool, for granted, for yourself, for nobody else; so what does it say about him that it only spurs his arousal, that it makes him impossibly hard and he can feel himself leaking from the thought of it. 

“I want that, too,” he reassures you, leaning down to press his forehead against yours, because you’re perfect for him, “But I want this first. Give me this first, please. Please.” 

He thinks you might cry. The rational part of him knows you can regulate it, that you probably won’t; the sick part of him wants to see it, wants to know what it takes to make you lose control. 

You call his name like a prayer, once, twice, and on the third time, Yuuta can feel it as much as he can hear it. He can feel the moment that your walls clench, and your eyes screw shut, and your body convulses around him. You’re beautiful, irreverent, and Yuuta thinks that being responsible for this is the greatest achievement of his life. 

He wears your orgasm with pride, raking over you as you blink your eyes open to him again. You’re lucid too quickly, he really is going to have to take the time to enjoy this somewhere less controlled later, eagerly wrapping your hand around his wrist and forcing them to his mouth. Yuuta groans when he tastes you on his tongue, nothing short of euphoric, and he’s sure to taste every last drop. 

You smile, and then laugh—an almost inaudibly giggle that has Yuuta smiling back reflexively. Like always, he follows your every move and succumbs to all your whims when you lean up to kiss him, and then coax off his pants and underwear, and line the tip of his dick up with your slit and pull him in, again, by the neck to bite at his ear, “Come on, Yuuta. Give it to me.” 

An order, a promise, a plea—Yuuta vows to fulfill them all, determined and spell-bound when he sinks into you. He can only imagine what it feels like for you, but for him it’s warm, wet, soft, snug, sticky—like honey, like a bee drawn to sweetness. It’s good, too good, Yuuta doesn’t know how to last when you feel this good. 

He can feel you everywhere, around his dick, your hands on his back, your breath on his cheek, your skin against his. He feels stuck to you, stuck in you, mind, body, and soul as one, unable to differentiate him from you, from you, from you. 

“Fuck,” Yuuta stares, carefully swiping a thumb over your browbone, conscious but not in command on how deep he’s thrusting into you, “You’re so—fuck, I love you.” He wants to hear you say it back, he needs to, he has to. He can feel it again, stomach in knots, and nerves on fire, and skin sticky, and Yuuta has to know—“Please, please. Do you love me, too?” 

You stutter, only from the rock of his hips into yours, reaching for his face and cradling it between healing hands, “Of course I love you, Yuuta.” His mouth opens, wobbly, and tears flow over his eyes—briefly, Yuuta thinks that it’s cruel that you’d let him cry; that you have command over every function in his body and that you’d let him cry, but he can’t bring himself to be upset. He’d probably have cried regardless, because hearing you say that you love him is a rush comparable only to burning tightness in his gut right now. 

You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling his lips to yours when you finally let go together. Yuuta can feel you tight around him, when he cums; and an unfiltered harmony of moans and skin on skin when he lays on top of you, sinks into you. Your hands don’t leave his hair, and Yuuta finds bliss in your affection, in being in your arms, in being yours. 

He doesn’t know how long you two stay like that, he doesn’t know if physical time passes in your domain, but it doesn’t matter. He’d stay here forever with you, let you use the full extent of your prowess to eat his heart out as sustenance, bleed for you to quench your thirst. He’d be everything you need and more; he’ll make sure that he’s all you want when it’s done and over. 

[gay-dorito-dust]

(Idk if ur rq are open bc I can't find any indication of it being, but I hope it is and if it isn't km sorry and h can just ignore this until they are!!)

Maybeee bat boys x reader who zones out a lot and tends to make faces according to what she's thinking abt. Like a smile or frown. And sometimes when they ask her what's up she's all secretive and what not.

Thank you!!

I dunno if I did this right but here ya go!

Dick makes a game out of it and tries to guess what you were thinking about.

Even if you don’t tell him why you’re smiling or making a face of thought, he is surprisingly good at being able to figure it out regardless, but for every expression he gets wrong you’d have to give him double the kisses for the ones he gets right to make up for it.

He loves watching your face contort like a ventriloquist through a rapid fire of emotions depending on what your mind has decided to remind you of, and today it was the memory of Hayley in her Halloween costume of Nightwing, just to match with Dick in his Nightwing suit as he prepared to enter the bloodhaven annual Nightwing contest.

Basically a contest where people deduce if anyone had a similar ass shape to Nightwing himself, a contest you find ridiculous but the imagine of Hayley in her Halloween costume was the sweetest thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on, that you couldn’t help but smile widely at.

You had albums full of Hayley in her Halloween costume with Dick photobombing in the background.

‘What’s on that pretty little mind of yours sweetheart?’ Dick would often ask.

‘Something silly.’ You’d reply with on the odd occasion as to keep him guessing, finding his attempts fun and only giving him pity kisses when he got a majority of them wrong. He had only got a handful right before but on all the other occasions he’s fails spectacularly.

‘Something silly like the time I lost the nightwing contest to Jason that one time?’ He answers wrongly but you couldn’t help but give him a pity kiss for being somewhat right but wrong simultaneously.

‘Sure darling.’ You’d say as you went back to zoning out on Hayley in her Halloween costume while dick burrows his face into your neck, murmuring about how of all people did Jason won the contest when they look nothing alike before going on about how Jason was a brick shit house in comparison to his muscular yet flexible body.

You’ll have to give him more pity kisses to ease his bruised ego by saying he wins all the Nightwing contests in your eyes. When in reality Hayley wins them all just for the fact of being adorable.

Damian found it weird at first for your face to be expressive, believing that it would make you an easy target for others to take advantage of.

Now however he finds it to be a way of expressing how you actually felt in comparison to the words that escape your mouth. He often discouraged zoning out as it would lead to unfavourable outcomes, but when you zone out and your face becomes soft Damian couldn’t help but find himself looking at you with a soft expression of his own.

‘What are you think about my beloved?’ He’d ask you as he hugs you from behind, resting his head upon your shoulder.

‘Nothing that you would find investing my love.’ You replied softly as the fond smile on your face grew the more you thought about the one time Damian chased Titus throughout the mansion because the Great Dane has somehow stole his robin suit and wouldn’t let go.

Damian kisses your shoulder. ‘Are you sure it’s not something I should be concerned about?’ He’d then ask.

You smile softly. ‘Not at all dami, just a funny thought is all.’ You told him while moving your head to kiss his forehead as though to calm his own thoughts. He hums, not believing you for a second from the mischievous glint in your eyes but was more than willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, just because he adored you so much.

‘As you wish my treasure.’ Your thoughts were your thoughts and Damian wouldn’t pry into them unless you wanted him to, so he just watched your expression carefully and deduced what you were feeling and link it to whatever memory would gain an happy, fond expression and leave it at that.

Jason loves your expressive face, he really does and will playfully pester you about what you were asking a face at while softly pinching your sides as you giggled.

Jason loved watching you as you zone out, perhaps reminiscing about a recent memory or other, and watching your face show how you felt about that particular moment.

‘Whatcha thinking about chipmunk?’ He’d ask from his place on the kitchen counter that he chose to admire you from. ‘Was it about little old me?’ He’d then ask cheekily as you playfully groan, shoving a hand to his face and pushing him away.

‘As if.’ You’d reply before walking away but Jason will continue to pester you about what you were thinking for the rest of the day. He’s just a little shit that you’ve come to love more then anything. Your thoughts were more than not occupied by how comfortable he had gotten with you over the course of your relationship and how happy you were for him.

Though you’d never say such a thing in front of him as he’ll use it against you however he could while giving you the softest, most beloved look upon his gorgeous face. Jason was your weakness and the only thing that you always thought about whether it be his autopsy scars, his white ruff of hair that you found immensely adorable and his plush lips that you want to kiss constantly.

Jason is more then content in just watching your face, but don’t be surprised that he kisses your furrowed brow when he sees your face become troubled, he wants his sweetheart to be happy not troubled because that’s what you deserve. You don’t need words to describe how happy you were for Jason to be able to read the emotion crossing your face, and Jason was more than happy to be of reassurance for when you needed it.

Bruce is amused whenever you made a face at something, or nothing in particular.

Like Damian he views it as a way of expressing your inner most feelings towards something or someone without having to vocalise it. It intrigues him as it’s not often that he comes across someone who wears their emotions across their face like you, after all Gotham if filled with some of the most guarded people to ever exist, him included.

It’s fascinating but even he got a little curious when you were smiling a little too widely one day, silently chuckling to yourself as you tried to get ready for bed.

‘What is making you laugh my dear.’ Bruce would ask as he sets aside his novel, moving to his side to look at you while the hand at your waist drew soothing patterns into your skin.

‘Nothing.’ You said as you chuckled.

‘Are you sure it’s nothing? Seems like you might be reminiscing of the time at the iceberg lounge where I mistakenly striped down to my boxers and tabletop danced.’ Bruce replied and all you could do is look at him with a somewhat shocked expression, you knew he was good but you kept forgetting just how good he was at deducting it always caught you off guard.

‘How-‘ you began.

‘Detective remember.’ Bruce chuckled slightly as he kissed your forehead.

‘But that was too specific of a memory for you to guess correctly.’ You rebutted, wanting to know how he knew about that particular memory.

‘It’s not too difficult for me to differentiate between the facial expressions you have towards each and every time you zone out my dear, so while it maybe impossible to believe but to me it’s as easy as breathing.’ Bruce replied as he brought you into his chest. He really did take the time out of his day to memories and learn the smallest of differences between your facial expressions, so much to the point where could tell whether the thing you were zoning out on was a good memory or not.

‘I’m not sure whether to be flattered or not.’ You murmured to yourself as you rested again his strong chest, tracing the many, many scars it possessed with featherlight touches and affection in the form of small kisses pepper against them.

Bruce only tightens his hold on you and kisses the top of your head as he hums. ‘Flattered preferably as the expression you make is sweet and warm.’ He tells you with his voice heavy with sleep.

‘Flattery it is.’ You said sluggishly as you cuddled yourself into his chest, clinging onto him for dear life as he kept you close, presenting the door his back out of his need to keep you safe and secure.

[standfucker]

Post-Injury Hurt/Comfort Series - Monster Trio

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji

Reader: GN

Word Count: 3.3k

CW: blood, gore, graphic depictions of injury, stitches

Ao3 Link

After writing The Break, I've always wanted to do drabbles of the same scenario for other characters, so here we are. ( 0v0)/

Luffy

It happens in an instant. One moment, you’ve brought your mace down on the head of the lion Zoan, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. You collapse next to his body, exhausted from the fight.

The next moment, the lion Zoan lunges at you from the floor, one massive paw smashing into your face with all the strength of their devil fruit, sickle claws tearing your flesh open.

You go flying. You hit the ground hard, leaving a smear of blood from your body skidding. Dazed, you try and get your bearings, berating yourself for letting your guard down early, praying it didn’t cost you the fight. The lion Zoan snarls and charges you.

“Gum-Gum Whip!”

The sight of your captain intercepting your opponent brings a heavy relief–if Luffy’s finished with his own opponent, that means your part is done, too. You can finally catch your breath.

With the rest comes the dull, burning pain across your face. The enemy mostly got you in the nose and mouth, miraculously missing your eyes. Blood runs from your nose and mouth and drips from your chin, bleeding as heavily as a head wound. Still, you’re not too concerned. It’s only when the rest of the crew catches up to you and you try to talk that you realize how much damage the lion did, because not only does speaking hurt, but Nami makes a face at the sight of you.

The local anesthetic that Chopper gives you helps a little bit, but it still hurts when he realigns your nose and stitches up the gashes. Luffy holds your hand the entire time, knowing you hate needles.

“Good job, Y/n!” Luffy says after Chopper’s done. “You’re real tough!”

“Thanks, Captain.” You sigh. “I would have been fine if I hit him again, but I thought he was down. I forgot how resilient Zoans can be.”

“You didn’t want to kill him.”

“I know, I shouldn’t take these fights so lightly–”

“Y/n, that’s a good thing.” Luffy stretches an arm around your shoulder. “You’re a good person. Besides, I was able to take him out easily because of the damage you did.”

“Nami looked horrified when she saw my face,” you say. “I must look like a mess.”

“You do,” Luffy says honestly, making you smile–which pulls on your stitches.

“Owww, oh…smiling hurts.”

“Then don’t smile!”

“I can’t help it. You make me smile. You know this.”

Luffy rubs his chin, eyes rolling up as he thinks. “Then I should stay away from you.”

“Nooo, don’t do that! I need you around to cheer me up! Especially now.” You take his hand that’s hanging around your shoulder, feeling your chest lighten when he squeezes back.

“Well, in that case, I’ll just not make you smile!” he says.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” You chuckle, then look at the mirror hanging on the wall. If you need to lower your mood, there’s an easy shortcut–the combination of your inflamed, swollen skin, plus the stitches make you look nothing short of monstrous.

Luffy notices your face falling. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s going to scar. And not even in a cool way.” Living with severe facial scarring probably won’t be that bad–you are a pirate, after all–but it’ll still be new. And, to be honest, you’re not ready for your appearance to change so dramatically.

“What are you talking about? It’ll be super cool!” Luffy says earnestly. “Everyone will know what a strong pirate you are!”

He’s trying to cheer you up. You don’t want to bring him down in the dumps with you, but you can’t help but be bummed out.

“But what if I don’t want to look cool?” you say. “What if I just want to look like me? I mean, who could possibly find a face like this appealing?” You ghost your fingers over the stitches on your lips. “Who would kiss lips like mine?”

You think you’re holding it in okay, but the admission has you tearing up. You’re being ridiculous–you should be happy to be alive. But why did it have to be your face? Why…

Luffy stares at you in that way he does when he’s thinking. You can’t tell what’s going through his mind.

It happens in an instant.

One moment you’re sitting next to each other in silence. The next moment, he wraps his other arm around you, pulls you in close, and lightly presses his lips against yours in a soft kiss.

It hurts a little, but it also feels so good that your tears break free and sting where they roll over your cuts.

“Did that hurt? I’m sorry, Y/n,” Luffy says when he pulls away.

“No, no! It was nice! It was really nice.” You have to fight not to smile.

“Oh, good! I liked it too!” he giggles, looking overjoyed.

“When I heal up, will you do that again?”

“I can do it right now!” Luffy says eagerly, but you clear your throat and tilt your head toward the doorway.

Chopper is standing there, little hooves on his hips, thoroughly unimpressed with the both of you and your method of boosting morale.

Zoro

Zoro was always one to downplay his injuries. Next to Chopper, you gave him the most trouble for it out of anyone in the crew. He figured that so long as he got medical attention, the extent of the injuries was no big deal.

He never expected to be on the receiving end.

In the heat of battle, he’s entirely focused on his opponent. This enemy crew is tough, but not the strongest they’ve faced. Strong enough to demand his full concentration.

However, Zoro knows the unique sound of a sword cutting through flesh. When he hears the shhk! noise behind him and remembers you’re also fighting a sword user, he’s so badly distracted he almost gets hit. He has just enough presence of mind to finish off his enemy before turning around.

That’s when he sees you fire a bullet into your opponent’s leg, your free arm wrapped around your stomach. There’s blood seeping between your fingers. In the time it takes him to rush to your side, you shoot your opponent again in the other leg, making him crumple, then once in each arm, rendering him completely unable to fight back from where he lays.

“Yo,” you say casually, but you’re trembling all over. Your torn shirt is staining quickly.

“You got cut,” Zoro states. He tries to pull your arm away so he can see your wound better, but you step back.

“I’m okay,” you say. You and Zoro both look down at your abdomen as you pull your arm away just slightly, and Zoro sees the unmistakable grayish-pink of your large intestine before you quickly plug up the gash with your arm again. You look back up at him. “It’s just a scratch.”

Zoro’s about ready to stab you himself, his eyes going wide with horror and rage. 

“Are you insane?!” he shouts. “A scratch?! Shit, where’s Chopper–?!”

“Ha ha–ow ow ow, hurts to laugh.” You grin, but Zoro notices you tearing up from the pain.

“Okay, just, stay still,” his hands are held up hesitantly, unsure of what to do, and he calls over his shoulder. “CHOPPER! Get over here right now!”

Once Chopper arrives, he applies an emergency field dressing and instructs Zoro on how to safely carry you back to the ship’s infirmary. You act like you’re in high spirits the entire way there, smiling up at Zoro like everything’s fucking dandy.

“This is kinda nice,” you say. “I haven’t been carried since I was little.”

“After you heal,” Zoro says, “I’ll carry you around as much as you want, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he says gently. “Does it hurt?”

“Of course not,” you say, and Zoro curses himself for having asked–he can see you wince with every harsh step he tries to avoid.

“We’re almost there. Almost there.”

“Relax, big guy. I’ve been through worse.”

You haven’t. He’s been in every major fight you’ve been through, and it’s never been this bad. Your blood is still warm on his skin, and your color’s getting paler, and it’s all because he couldn’t protect you.

The surgery takes longer than he thought. He’s pacing the hallway outside the infirmary so much that even Sanji starts to make a comment, which would have started a fight had Robin not intervened and sternly told them both that everyone was worried.

When you come to, it’s to the sight of Zoro standing over your bed. You don’t manage so much as a ‘yo’ before Zoro gets onto his hands and knees, bowing so low his head touches the floor.

“I’ll never let it happen again!” he says, minding his volume–Chopper is only allowing him to visit because Zoro promised he wouldn’t stress you out. “It’s my fault! I’m sorry–”

“Get up.” 

He peers up at you. Your face is twisted up like you’re holding something back, but you force it into a sneer.

“Get up right now, or I’m going to make fun of you,” you say. He hesitates long enough for you to roll your eyes. “Don’t be a pussy.”

That brings him right back to his feet. “What’d you call me?!”

“You heard me,” you say. “I’m alive, aren’t I? So relax.”

“I can’t relax!” Zoro snaps. “You got hurt because of me! I was too weak! I couldn’t–couldn’t stop this from happening!”

“Whatever.”

“Whatever?!” He no longer minds his volume. “How can you be so–so calm about this?!”

“How can you be making this about yourself?”

That shuts him up real quick. Realizing his mistake, Zoro starts to get a sour feeling in his stomach, but you only smile.

“Now you know what it feels like,” you chuckle and wince, “ow–what it feels like to have someone be dismissive of your injuries. So the next time you get hurt, you big dumb idiot, how about you have some self awareness and let me worry?”

Zoro deflates a little. “I still can’t just forgive myself like that.”

“I’ll do it for you.” You hold out your hand until he takes it. “Roronoa Zoro, I forgive you–so long as you do one thing for me.”

He leans in. “Anything. What is it?”

“Even with the pain meds, I’m still sore. Kiss it better?” You smile the way you do when you’re joking, but it soon turns to a look of surprise when Zoro leans in even closer. He hesitates for a moment, face hovering above yours, before his free hand comes to cradle the back of your head and he presses a firm, intent kiss to your lips.

You stare at him when he pulls away, your expression slowly morphing into a smile–not a playful one, not a masking one, but a real smile.

“W-What’s with that look?” Zoro says, flustered now. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“I meant kiss my stomach, dummy.”

Zoro’s eyes widen, but before he can remedy his mistake, you weakly pull him back in for another kiss. This time, he obliges without question.

Sanji

Sanji barely dodges a brutal strike from his opponent, then finishes them off with a flaming kick to the skull. You grin at him as you down your own opponent with a heavy strike from one of your tonfa.

“Careful there, Hotfoot! He almost got you!” you yell gleefully, only to narrowly avoid getting hit yourself.

“Worry about yourself, Sticks!” Sanji calls back, mirroring your grin.

“They’re not sticks!” you say yet again, smashing one of the tonfa into a pirate’s head and knocking them out cold. “You’re just jealous I can fight with my hands!”

“I choose not to fight with my hands!”

“Sure you do!”

You were well aware of Sanji’s commitment to only use his hands to cook, but it was still fun to pretend it was a skill issue. Sanji knew it was all teasing anyway. The two of you greatly enjoyed your banter, whether in or outside of battle. As physical fighters, your rivalry was a friendly one. After all, out of everyone in the crew, you spent the most time talking to each other.

The next wave of pirates comes, this time stronger than before–the enemy’s commanding officers. The battle becomes too serious for you to go on making comments, and your focus gets pulled toward your opponents.

It’s a hard, bloody fight. As soon as he defeats his opponent, he worries about how the others are faring. The rest of the crew is almost done with their own one-on-ones, and he finds himself rushing to find you first, his pace hurrying when he finds one of your tonfa lying off to the side.

You’re straddling your opponent on the ground. Your non-dominant hand is broken, held crookedly against your chest, and you’re bleeding from your hairline and mouth. With your good hand, you beat your tonfa into your opponent’s skull, over and over, a broken cry tumbling from your bloody lips with every strike. Your opponent is no longer moving, but you don’t stop, tears streaming from your eyes as you mash his face to a visceral pulp.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Sanji skids to a stop next to you, grabbing your wrist before you can strike again. “He’s dead! It’s over. It’s over. You won.”

You look at him with wide eyes. Your mouth is held open, and at first, Sanji doesn’t realize what’s wrong, but he can tell you only won by a hair from the way you’re trembling. He gets down and pulls you into a gentle hug. “I got you,” he says. “I got you. You’re okay now.”

He holds you at arm’s length and checks over your body for any injuries, finding none. Mouth still open, you pull away from him and start patting the grass with your good hand, searching for something. 

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” he says. “Please, say something.”

Sanji expects something tired and sarcastic, like ‘you don’t look much better.’ Instead, you make a strange, groaning noise as your response, and he feels a chill run through his body. You always had a quick retort for him, even when things were dire.

You seem to find what you were looking for, your hand closing around something. Sanji helps you stand up, and when you open your hand, he sees a few teeth in your palm that must have gotten knocked out.

“Your jaw’s broken,” Sanji realizes aloud, and you nod, and suddenly the way you hold your mouth open is deeply unsettling.

The silence that follows your surgery, however, puts Sanji at an even greater unease. Your jaw is wired shut to let the bone heal, and Chopper says that for the next six weeks, you won’t be able to speak at all.

You carry around a notepad with you, but for a while after you wake from the anesthesia, you don’t write anything down except to answer Chopper’s questions, opting instead to sulk.

“Come on, Sticks,” Sanji says lightly as he signs the cast on your hand. “I know you have something to say.”

You flick him off with your good hand, then seem to regret it, your face fallin along with your hand. Sighing through your nose, you grab your notepad and scribble something down, then hold it up for him to see.

‘I look like a chipmunk.’

The lower half of your face has, naturally, swollen up. Sanji shakes his head. “No, no, you look fine! You…” A pointed look from you makes him concede. “Okay, yeah. It’s swollen. What did you expect?” You look away, and he pats your shoulder. “Ah, come on, it’s not so bad. Most people find chipmunks cute, you know.”

Your eyes widen slightly and you give him a look of surprise. Sanji stiffens.

“Um, well, I mean…” he stammers. Though he doesn’t leave, for the rest of that day, you both avoid looking at each other.

From the beginning to the end of your healing process, Sanji stays by your side, always finding a way to make you feel better. He’ll hype you up by doing a drumroll while he’s waiting for you to finish writing out a thought, something which the rest of the crew picks up as well. When you’re hanging out with him in the galley, he’ll do hibachi tricks with the food he prepares to cheer you up.

The food he makes for you especially helps you get through the long weeks. You were severely bummed out at having to miss his cooking for weeks–until the first sip of the soup he cooked. You never knew a liquid diet could be so delicious. Sanji takes the time to roast and blend anything you’d wanted. Thanks to him, being unable to chew food doesn’t affect your nutrient intake at all.

He also indulges you in your favorite drink without you having asked, which is surprising. It’s not the first time he’s gone out of his way like this, but it does feel more special when you’ve been in such a vulnerable state.

‘Maybe there’s an upside to this after all.’

Sitting in the galley while Sanji cooks, you hold up your notepad for him to read.

“And what is that?” he says, walking around the prep table with a mixing bowl in his arms, looking down at what you’re writing.

‘I love y’

You pause, staring at your notepad with a weird, dumbstruck look. Sanji’s eyes widen, slowing down his mixing for a second, but you quickly recover and finish scribbling.

‘I love you treating me extra special.’ You hold up the notepad hesitantly, avoiding his eye. 

Though feeling warmth rise in his chest, Sanji plays it cool. “Well, I’m glad you’re finding the positive in this,” he says. “I personally miss the sound of your voice.”

You drop your notepad and fumble to catch it with only one good hand, accidentally smacking it to the floor. Both you and Sanji crouch down to pick it up, and freeze when your hands touch.

The urge to say ‘sorry’ is strong, though you can’t speak. Face burning, all you can do is look at him apologetically and hope he understands. But when you do, he’s looking back at you with the same expression he has when he reads a brand new recipe. Like he’s figuring something out.

You go to pull your hand away, but his fingers close around yours. “I, uh… I really mean that, you know.”

Swallowing, you glance down at his hand holding yours, then back up at him, and nod.

“Y/n,” he says, letting go of your hand to instead cup your cheek tenderly. “Would you… I mean. Can I…?”

With your heart pounding, you nod again, and Sanji leans in. You close your eyes, and a moment later, his lips brush yours, feather-light. Just that barest contact makes your head spin almost as bad as it did when you got your injury in the first place.

Sanji breaks free, and you stare at each other. A slow smile spreads across your lips at the sight of his nose starting to bleed. You both stand up, and you write something down quickly.

‘I’m sorry I can’t kiss you back.’

“That’s okay,” he says, reading the note over your shoulder. He rubs the back of his neck, grinning. “I’ll gladly do all the work.”

And Sanji does, in the quiet, private moments where it’s just the two of you. And yet, when the day finally comes for Chopper to remove the wires, and the first thing you do upon leaving the exam room is call out Sanji’s name, he’s so elated that he picks you up with a spin, kissing you in front of everyone before he can help himself.

[the-xolotl]

What a Bloody Mess !

Alastor x Fem!Reader

ღ a/n: a special gift for my friend Cass over at the discord server~ thank you for the delicious idea. this is def a lil self-indulgent hehe

summary: Alastor's cannibalistic cravings go further than you initially thought. And he's gotten a particular appetite for you this time around.

ღ TAGS: no use of y/n, explicit fem anatomy descriptions, cunnilingus, menstrual oral, oral (fem receiving), scent kink, blood play, face sitting, courting rituals if you squint, scenting, primal habits (? kinda), Al mentions your fertility, explicit depiction of menstruation and ovulation, dubcon.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED ON SIGHT. Thank you~♡

The past two weeks have been hell, ironically. The days leading up to your monthly cycle are always annoying and uncomfortable, not only because of the hormonal imbalance and emotional instability but because of the physical symptoms. Starting with ovulation being a drag, walking around with the constant squelching wetness between your thighs for an entire week that makes you feel embarrassed, it’s ridiculous, it makes you feel like you’re in heat—like an animal. Every step makes you grimace, unable to look anyone in the eye. Let’s not even mention the various lusty, dirty, lewd impulsive thoughts that came with it, the carnal need to be filled; You’re more nervous than usual but despite that, you try to push yourself to be sociable around the hotel.

But you only come to regret it when you notice a certain Radio Demon hanging around you. Like, a lot. Alastor is already usually very cordial and gentlemanly toward you, that’s just who he is and you’ve never given him a reason not to be, however, as of a few days ago, Alastor had been hovering over your general area; often standing or sitting next to you, striking up conversations, teasing you more than usual. What caught you off guard the most were the little acts of service he did. Even offering to accompany you places so you didn’t have to go alone. It came off as protective… And in an odd way possessive. Also, he seemed irritated anytime anyone else grabbed your attention away from him, not very obviously or outwardly so, but noticeable enough because you were so used to watching his behavior you could pick up on it.

You also noticed fewer people approached you, especially if he was around or with you. It was definitely odd behavior from the radio host to be in constant contact with you. And being you’re currently struggling with your own “issues”, it’s annoying and unpleasant having Alastor following you around. Because the idea that anyone could possibly smell the blood on you made you feel gross, even if realistically that’s not very likely. But the worst of it was by far when your actual period started. It felt awkward, your hormones were ramped up to a thousand, peak horny but not being able to relief yourself and not wanting to deal with the mess.

To avoid Alastor you opt to stay locked up in your room, occasionally going down to the kitchen to get a snack or some proper food. And that seemed to work for a little, until he showed up at your door with the excuse that he hadn’t seen you around very much, and became a little worried for you. So here he is standing at your hotel door, “I appreciate the concern, Al, I really do but right now just isn’t a great time—” there’s a hurry in your voice as you try to press him away from the door frame, trying to close it or get him to take a hint but this is the Radio Demon you’re talking about.

“Dear, it’s my job to ensure the comfort and happiness of all hotel residents, including you” his smile grew more conspicuous, instead he used the close proximity to wrap and arm around your lower back to keep you trapped against him. His face inches closer to you, sharp eyes fixed on your blushed face. You tried to recoil away from him but he’s got you pressed chest to chest—well, your chest to his torso more like because he’s stupidly tall— and his entire expression darken. Like he had planned this, like you had fallen into a carefully laid out plan. Heat rose up further up your cheeks and spread through your entire body as you still squirmed in his arms.

“Alastor please, I’m not playing your games anymore. I-I really want to be alone right now,” you can’t help the stutter in your voice. His warmth is so inviting, the way you fit perfectly against him you want nothing more than to be wrapped up in him. In more ways than one, especially with that hand that’s gently thumbing your hip as a means to soothe you. The demon leans in closer still, small cracks of feedback become louder as his mouth graces the shell of your ear and you swear you’re losing your mind. Because as is, he’s putting minimal strength to keep you where you are, so your mind wonders what else he could do, how much more could he make you do if he really tried. It send a shiver down your spine at the thought of feeling those slender claws digging into your flesh—

“Are you sure that’s what you really want?” that velvety voice is enticing, it’s making your already fuzzy brain even more hazy. No, is the honest truth you want to give him. Yet, the last shred of reason nags at you to not let the horny thoughts win. However, that thin thread is about to snap with how insistent Alastor is being. “Let me help you with your… Little predicament, darling,” the lilt in his voice is playful, alluring. Your body goes stiff, though.

“What are you talking about?” you ask nervously. The deer chuckles pulling away and fixing his low-lidded eyes once again on yours, those ruby eyes that seem to look into the darkest depths of your soul with a single glance. You feel paralyzed both from fear and anticipation awaiting his answer.

His free hand comes up to your belly, oh-so gently rubbing the expand of your abdomen. It makes you shudder, your gaze falls down to his hands curious and oddly aroused by the gesture. He doesn’t answer immediately and even when he does it’s not direct. “Last week while going about the hotel as I usually do… I caught a scent I had never quite smelled before. Sweet yet tart. I had wondered for hours on end where it could have possibly come from and how it came and went,” He explained slowly, as slowly as his hand rubbed your abdomen in wide patterns, “Until I realized it came and went as you did. You, little one, have been driving me insane for d̸̞̖̹̎̃̉͊͛̾͗̊̍͘̚a̴̢̼͔̗̬͚̺̠͖̹͔͕͈̭̳͒y̴̧̻̹͙̰̭̽̔̄͂̑̂̈́̔̂̋̌̀́͝s̸̨̙̲̰̲̞̯̖̮̪͌́̽͂͝.”

His voice became much more grave and the radio filter intensified, both hands grabbing at your waist tightly, almost painfully. You unconsciously squeeze your thighs together feeling a warm liquid start to pool. In a panic you tried to snap out of his grasp but that only made him hold on tighter. Did his hands grow? but you don’t have time to wonder how his two hands encircled your entire waist because he’s lifting you up as if you weigh nothing but a couple of grapes, then your back is against something soft— your mattress you suppose— and Alastor with elongated antlers, his body bigger than he normally is and eyes turned to radio dials. You should be fucking scared shitless but seeing his demonic form makes your cunt clench around nothing. There’s no helping you really.

Tendrils sprout around your sheets to hold you where you lay, his large hands come to encircle your thighs spreading them. “Alastor wait! Wait a second!” your face is hot and bright red, “I’m— Oh Satan don’t make me say it,” tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. Your mind is torn in half because dear unholy hell you needed relief, you haven’t been able to cum or touch there because of your messy little predicament but the shame of Alastor seeing the mess is too much.

Alastor laughs pushing your legs apart and further up nearly folding you in half, “Oh I know. I’m a cannibal, pretty girl, I can handle a little blood, now will you allow me to drink from you? You smell positively ripe for the taking,” Alastor presses his face against your still clothed pussy taking in the scent he’s been chasing for almost two weeks.

The action unconsciously made you moan, “Yes, yes fine!” your eyes squeezed tightly feeling entirely too shy and embarrassed to even look at him. His words made your heart skip a beat, this had to be the oddest form of cannibalism— Does it count?— you’ve ever seen, heard of or otherwise. For Alastor, that was all he needed. He’s now a one track minded being with nothing to stop his hunger until it is sated.

He quickly did away with your panties, but not before pressing the fabric against his nose one last time before disregarding it somewhere on the floor, your needy sex twitching for attention. It made you look away from him too many emotions bubbling inside you, it’s a little overwhelming how fast it’s happening and what is happening. It’s dawning on you that Alastor is asking to eat you out, to taste the blood—

Your thoughts are interrupted again but his tentacles lifting you up, Alastor had laid down at some point you hadn’t realized and you were being positioned right on top of his face. You tried to hover out of habit but Alastor wouldn’t let you, his radio voice crackled again, “Oh no, darling. Ỹ̵͇͕̕ō̸̪̟͐ȕ̸͇͎̆ ̶͈̃̂a̸̯̿r̶͓̈́̇e̴̱͑̓ ̵̡͈̿g̴̨͠ò̴̲͖ḯ̸̹n̶̢͚̈́͂g̷͇̎ ̷͖̅t̶̳͇̉̄ǫ̵̫̈́ ̵̮͚̋s̸̘͐͋i̴̜̓t̵̲͌̍,” using his hands he pushed you down on his waiting tongue and held you there as he didn’t hesitate to lap up your slightly bloodied folds.

“Alastor!” you whine loudly, again closing your eyes and even covering your face with both your hands. But you won’t deny how unbelievably good it felt, relieved you’d finally feel release and you couldn’t tell if it’s because someone else is touching you but your sensitivity felt like it had skyrocketed. Your whole body trembled, the tentacles around your waist and chest were doing all the holding up as well as keeping you in place. It’s a little horrifying to be eaten out like this but he’s licking at you like you’re the last drink in hell making you reel and throw your head back. Moans and mewls very soon filled the air and bounced off the walls along with soft sensual jazz that played just a little louder than your own voice. Just enough to mask them from being heard outside of the bedroom.

As Alastor sucked and lapped at your clit, tentacles press harder into your lower abdomen to coax out your sweet fluids enjoying the various noises and the ones you struggled to keep in, “What a shy flower you are, but be a good girl and let me enjoy you,” he cooed at you, his long tongue licking up and down your slightly then teasing your entrance before plunging it deep into your hole. Your eyes widen at the feeling once again squirming and hips bucking, it’s an odd sensations having his long, flexible muscle so deep inside. You could feel the tip reaching your cervix and not leaving a single part of you unexplored. Mind numbing pleasure of your orgasm building up made your ears ring and you knew you wouldn’t last. But Alastor didn’t seem to mind or even care about your impending orgasm because he didn’t slow down his strides. Mouthful after mouthful of your blood dripped down his tongue and into his mouth he groaned in delight at the taste.

“Darling, I’m not doing this entirely for your pleasure. I’m glad to you grant you some release, do cum as many times as you’d like by all means,” he informs from between suck and licks, “But I’m not stopping until I’ve had my fill,” he growled and went right back to his task. You gasped feeling his teeth grace your soft folds, making you keen and clench around his tongue. You felt his smile widen against you, he did it again. And again and again, his teeth probably nicked you a few times but you at that point didn’t mind, your orgasm is just over the horizon and the pain mixed with the immense pleasure only had your back arching against his tendrils that still held you up. Even your hands came to tangle in his hair and antlers holding on tightly feeling that coil in your abdomen about to snap.

And suddenly with a particular rub of his tongue against the little bundle of nerves inside you, your orgasm crashed over you like a ton of bricks. It was so strong it caused goosebumps to rise across your entire body and scream out in pure, unadulterated pleasure. Alastor groan some curses under his breath as you tug his hair when you cum, sucking feverishly to catch every last drop of your release and bloody. It’s dripping down his chin at this point but he can worry about the bloody mess later. He isn’t even near done with you yet. Your reaction to his administrations and the delectable smell wafting off you in waves now that you’ve finally came are making him even more ravenous than when he first shoved his face between your legs.

“I’m going to drink you dry, my darling. Give me everything, pet.”

ღ a/n: it took me days to be satisfied with this one akdkskald but i had so much fun writing it. so thank you cass <33

—

© 2024 the-xolotl — all rights reserved. do NOT alter, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my consent, do not claim my content as yours.

[devildomditzy]

You’re late for your date.

Like, Late late.

And of course, if the situation were switched, you wouldn’t have minded.

In fact, you would have expected it.

But you are you and Mammon is Mammon.

So of course, his leniency for being ignored is next to zero.

He leans against the front door inside the common room of the House of Lamentation. And he looks at his watch.

4:00

4:00

You’re an hour late.

And of course, Mammon tried to play it cool at first, swiping through his D.D.D with an unimpressed look on his face. He’s cool. Nonchalant. His brothers can’t know he’s internally freaking out;

Because he’s totally not.

Of course not. No way. Not over you of all people.

But he can’t hide the jitters so graciously given to him by his nervous system.

“Are you being stood up?”, Satan calls from a nearby armchair in the room, not bothering to look up from what he’s reading.

“I ain’t being stood up! They’ll be here, they’re just…busy. Yeah, that’s it. They’re busy.”

Asmo lays upside down on the couch, scrolling on his own D.D.D.

“Of course they stood him up, they’d much rather go on a date with mwah”, he gloats from his position.

“Oi! Shut up will ya?!”, Mammon screams back, now standing rigidly, hands balled up at his side in anger, leaning into the conversation, ready to make it an argument.

As he takes another breath to get a word out, Satan cuts him off.

“Where were you going anyway?”

“Yeah, where?”, Asmo brightly echos back.

Mammon sighs, body relaxing as he slouches back into his leaning position.

“We were supposed to go to Devil Coast ‘bout an hour ago. But of course MC ain’t got a bone of urgency in their body.”

He grunts, frustratingly looking down at his D.D.D. Twenty-five messages. No replies. What was up with ya?

Asmo cackles wildly, “Maybe they forgot about you, hm?”

Mammon’s face begins to heat up with anger.

“Listen here you little-”

Satan once again cuts him off. “We all know there’s no way they’d forget about Mammon. He’s much too loud”, he says, turning his page.

“Would y’all shuddup? Jeez”, Mammon’s tone becomes lethal in a way his brothers know they should stop pushing, so they do, shooting each other concerned glances.

“Have they texted you back at all?”, questions Satan.

Mammon sighs, “No, not yet.”

He looks down at his phone, scrolling through your message thread.

2:50 PM

Mammon: Yo! Ready to go?

Mammon: I’m by the front door, I’ll be waitin’ for ya.

Mammon: Remember to bring your coat ya dummy, cause I ain’t letting’ you borrow mine this time!

Mammon: Okay

Mammon: Maybe I would let ya borrow it if you really needed it and were shivering and stuff and needed The Great Mammon’s help to warm ya up.

Mammon: But you gotta say please 😜

2:57 PM

Mammon: Alright, where are ya?

Mammon: Thought we agreed on 3:00

Mammon: Do ya need more time gettin’ ready?

Mammon: Tryin’ to look good for your first, huh?

Mammon: I’ll wait a little longer for ya.

3:10 PM

Mammon: Hurry it up, will ya?

Mammon: I understand wantin’ to look nice, but it’s ten after! Ten!

Mammon: Ya know, you’re the only human that keeps me waitin’ like this!

3:30 PM

Mammon: Okay, yer bein’ kinda ridiculous right now.

Mammon: I mean come on, ya gotta date with Mammon. THE Mammon. Ya know how lucky you are?

Mammon: Alotta people would kill to be in your position.

3:35 PM

Mammon: But of course I wouldn’t go with them. I wouldn’t go on a date with anyone but you, okay?

Mammon: That’s why you need to get yer ass down here!

3:40 PM

Mammon: You’ve got some nerve makin’ THE Mammon wait around for ya!

3:45 PM

Mammon: Whatever, isn’t like I wanted to go out with ya anyway.

Mammon: I was doin’ this for you, ya know.

Mammon: Why would I wanna be see around with some lousy human?

Mammon: What am I, yer babysitter?

3:55 PM

Mammon: Look, I didn’t mean that, alright?

Mammon: Please come down.

“Are you sure they’re not asleep?”, Satan ponders curiously.

“Nah, I don’t think so. We’ve been talkin’ about this for weeks”, Mammon says defeatedly, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

“Are you sure they’re okay?”, Asmo asks, voice laced with concern.

“Okay?!”, Mammon shoots his attention to the avatar of lust. “Wah- what- why wouldn’t they be okay?”

Asmo looks around sheepishly, bringing his nails up to his lips to bite them, something he never does unless he’s either A) super stressed or B) covering something up.

Mammon steps towards his brother, anger beginning to boil, knowing what his mannerisms mean. “Whadda you know that I don’t?! C’mon, spill it!”

The urgency in his voice compels Asmo to speak, knowing how sensitive his brother is when it comes to you.

“Well… I promised them I wouldn’t tell you…”

“Tell me what?!”

His brother remains quiet for a moment.

“Asmo…”, Mammon threatens dangerously.

“Ugh, okay I’ll tell you”, Asmo sighs, mumbling quickly under his breath, “MC, please forgive me!”

Mammon stares at his brother impatiently as he starts,

“Well, MC came to me the other day after class. I knew something was wrong because there were tears in their beautiful eyes”, Asmo lays his hand across his forehead as if he were faint.

“Skip the dramatics and keep talkin’!”

“Okay, sheesh. So MC came to me and told me they haven’t been feeling very good lately.”

“What, are they sick or somthin’?”

“No no, nothing like that. More like, their brain feels sick? They said they don’t really know why, but they’ve been feeling bad about themselves lately - which I told them was totally ridiculous! AND I offered them a full makeover WITH facial and they denied it, but that always makes ME feel better.”

Asmo pouts before continuing, “Plus, with all the extra work Lucifer and Lord Diavolo have been giving them with the student council, they said they feel like they’re under so much pressure, they’re gonna crack soon.”

“Why ain’t they tellin’ me any of this!?”

“Because,” Asmo says annoyed, “they don’t want to upset you!”

“What? That’s ridiculous!”, exclaims Mammon.

Asmo matches his volume, “I know right?! That’s what I told them! But they said you were so excited about your date that they didn’t wanna ruin it- hey, where are you going!?”, Asmo yells as Mammon walks out of the room.

“Where’d ya think! I’m gonna go talk to MC!”, Mammon yells back.

So that’s why you weren’t there? You’ve been hurting? For awhile it seems, and you didn’t tell him?

He’s gotta admit, he’s a little hurt. But he knows this isn’t about him right now.

It’s about you.

Mammon didn’t know he would be nervous to see you until he was standing in front of your door. What if says the wrong thing and makes it worse? What if he can’t help you at all? What if he made you feel this way?

Okay. He realizes with that last one that he’s spiraling. Time to fix this.

He lifts a shaky hand to your door, knocking three times rhythmically - the one you know is his knock. And only his.

He cringes when he hears your weak voice choke out a small “come in”.

The room is dark; All the lights are out and it’d be pitch black save for the window next to your bed, illuminating your form, a shivering lump hiding under your blanket.

He lets out a sigh as he walks further in. He should have known about this. He should have been able to pick up on this. Boyfriend of the year, huh?

You sniffle as you pop your head out from under your hiding place.

“H-hey Mams”, you hiccup, giving away the tears that still stream down your face. “I-I’m sorry I ruined our date. I should have texted you, I-I just…”

Mammon walks till he’s leaning right over you, hands on his hips. “Uh-uh, I don’t care about that right now. What I do care about is you, mainly why didn’t ya tell me you were feelin’ like this before our date?”

The tone is his voice gives way to his own hurt, and you can’t help but start to cry again at the sound of it, knowing it’s your fault.

“Shh, shhh,” he quickly sits down on the bed next to you and puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a hug. “I ain’t mad at ya or anything, I just wanna know why.”

He knows why; Asmo told him. But, he wants to hear it from you.

You pull your arm out from under the blanket (and Mammon’s hold) to wipe your face. “I’m fine really, it’s just”, you sniffle, but Mammon cuts you off.

“Ya clearly not, c’mon MC”, he says, oceanic eyes meeting yours and - it’s hard not to crack under that gaze. “Tell me what’s the matter, please.”

Mammon stares at you in silence, signaling that it’s your turn to talk, and he would quietly listen. As long as you trust him, he’d always listen to whatever it is you have to say, no matter what.

You sit up a little straighter, pulling your arm out from under the comforter to wipe your tears. Composing yourself, you look into his eyes. His face softens at the sight.

Clearing your throat you start, “I don’t know. I’ve just been so overwhelmed.”

“Overwhelmed with what? All that work Lucifer and Lord Diavolo keep pushin’ on you? Tell ‘em to shove it!”

You shoot him a dangerous look. “We both know I can’t do that.”

“Sure ya can, I do it all the time!”, Mammon proudly declares, making you smile brightly and chuckle.

“And you always end up hanging from the rafters”, you laugh.

“I never said I got away with it”, he replies, smiling just as brightly back.

Your giggle peters out as you begin to speak again. “I’ve got so much more work to do and so little time to do it”, you frown. “And I’ve been pushing myself really hard! And- I dunno. I guess it’s taking a toll on me.”

“Yeah, Asmo said you were havin’ it pretty rough.”

At the mention of Asmo’s name, you shoot upwards in shock.

“He told you?!”

“Course he did. Did ya forget which ones of us you can trust with secrets?”.

You grumble in anger. “That little - UGH! I’m gonna kill him.”

“Let’s put murder on the back burner,” Mammon says, pushing your shoulder to lay you back down in your slouching position. “How’s ‘bout ya tell me what’s really bothering’ ya and I’ll help ya threaten the primadonna later, yeah?”.

You give him the side eye, but collapse under his gaze. Curse those eyes! You swear he can put you under some kind of truth spell with those things.

“Fine. I guess… it’s just… I…”

“Any day now, Treasure.”

You make an exasperated noise and glare at him. “You know it’s not fair to use that word on me when I’m upset.”

“When you’re upset at me. And yer not upset at me right now, right? Please say right”, he finishes his sentence with a sense of urgency, now worried that he could be the cause.

He’s wracking his brain for anything he could have said or done recently that made you upset. Are you mad at him cause he teased you the other day when you did your makeup differently. He told ya he only did it cause he liked it. Are you mad because he cheated off of you in potions class? Well, he’s your first, dammit! You should be helping him anyways. That’s what a loyal subject does.

“No, no it’s not you. I just haven’t been feeling very good about myself lately.”

“What! That’s ridiculous!”, he shouts and - he’s trying to be helpful in his own way, but his raising voice makes you wince. He notices, quickly shifting his tone. “I mean, what’s there not to like, doll.”

You smile to yourself at the nickname. He’s trying his hardest to be sweet. You should try your hardest to let him in on your thoughts a bit too.

“I don’t like the way I look. I’m not pretty, I’m not cool, I don’t even know what you see in me.”

“Don’t be dumb, MC!”

“Mammon, look at you! You’re you. You’re one of the seven demon lords of hell, you’re a whole model, and you’re one of the coolest guys I’ve ever met - Devildom, Human Realm, or celestial! You know you’re hot, so I’m worried…”, you trail off quietly.

“Worried bout what, MC?”, he asks at your hesitance, worry evident in his eyes. He places his hand on top of yours on the bed without breaking eye contact.

“…I’m worried that one day you’ll realize you’re too good for me and leave.”

“Leave? Whaddaya talkin’ about? How would I leave? I live here too ya know”, he says, poking your nose.

“You know what I mean, Mammon”, you say swiping his hand away from your face. “You’ll leave me.”

Mammon rolls his eyes, waving a hand towards your direction dismissively. “Oh yeah, I’ll leave you alright. That’s exactly why I was waitin’ for ya at the door for an hour to take ya on a date. Cause I wanna leave ya soooo bad. Do ya see how ridiculous you sound?”.

You sigh, eyes looking towards the bedsheets as you play with his hand that has found its way back to yours. You don’t look up as you speak. “See, I didn’t even come down for our date. Or text you. I just moped around up here. Im a terrible partner. And I’m sure you’re gonna realize it soon.”

Mammon makes a ‘tch’ noise with his tongue, before grabbing you by the chin and making you look into his eyes, making you gasp in surprise.

“And ya think I’m such a great boyfriend, huh? I’m just the best? The guy who spends his free time at the casino runnin’ up scams? The guy who used ta blame his screw ups on ya to get outta trouble? Yeah MC, I’m a real peach. Cream of the crop if ya ask me”, he lectures, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“What are you trying to say”, you question, grabbing his wrist to take his hand off your chin, to which he carefully obliges.

“I’m sayin’ that I’m not so great myself. But you still love me, right?

“Yeah, and?”

“Exactly. I’ve got flaws, we’ve all got flaws, even father had flaws, clearly”, he mumbles the last part under his breath.

“I wouldn’t stop lovin’ ya over any dumb thing like looks or status. In fact, I can’t think of a single reason why I’d stop lovin’ ya, ya dumb human. Sorry ‘boutcha luck, but yer stuck with The Great Mammon forever”, he jokes, ruffling your hair.

“What about when I die? I’m human, you’ll outlive me by a long shot. Don’t you want to be with someone, I don’t know, with the same…life span as you?”

“Nah, I’ll still love your dumbass skeleton when you’re a stupid ghost.”

“How romantic.”

“Listen. My point is I’m yours and you’re mine. That ain’t changin’, alright? And I’m not mad ‘bout our date, we’ll reschedule it. Just next time, ya could let me know before I stand by the front door for over an hour like a jackass. My brothers got enough to make fun of me over already.”

He pulls a little smile out of you with that last one.

“And about all that student council junk Lucifer and Lord Diavolo keep thrown’ on ya, I’ll talk to them. Maybe they’ll let you divide it up between all of us, alright?”.

You sniffle, wiping your face once more and shaking your head in an affirmative nod. “Sounds good. Thank you, Mams. I’m sorry.”

“C’mon now, quit yer apologizin’. It’s fine. You apologize for somethin’ like that again, I’m tellin’ Beel you ate his pudding from Madam Screams.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I’ll dare alright, ‘n then some”, he jokes, tackling you to the bed. “Why don’t we watch a movie or somethin’. You gotta make up the lost date time you owe me.”

You laugh at his antics, agreeing. “Okay, okay. I’m on it.”

As you sit in front of your shared DVD collection to pick tonight’s selection, you throw your voice over your shoulder.

“Hey Mams?”

“Yeah?”, he asks from his spot on your bed, scrolling on his D.D.D.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime, Treasure.”

[leaderwonim]

smart, sexy, lacy, i’m losing it lately.

pairing. student!yang jungwon x student!fem!reader

summary. jungwon has always hated you, right from the start. you were too nice, too smart for your own good, and lately—you’ve been starting to get too pretty for yang jungwon to handle.

author’s note: HAPPY BDAY YANG JUNGWON WOOOOO here’s a post dedicated to my bias, the loml. this fic is entirely based off of olivia’s song “lacy”, one of my favorites off her guts album!

Yang Jungwon thought you were the most insufferable person he met. Not only were you overly nice, but you were so smart that you got the highest scores unlike bitter Jungwon who always managed to score second place.

“I’m losing it,” Jungwon whispers underneath his breath as he lifts his paper up into the air. A big red 99 was scribbled on top of his paper.

“I don’t know why you’re so upset.” Sunghoon, a friend of Jungwon’s, took a seat next to the mess of a boy who was currently ruffling his hair in stress. “A 99 is good Wonie!”

“No it’s not,” he mumbles, placing his head against the table. “No it’s not. Song Y/N managed to get a 100 again.”

Almost as if the universe knew Jungwon was talking about you, you passed by the two boys, waving a quick hello to Sunghoon.

“Don’t wave back.” Jungwon mumbles, lifting his head up slightly to glare at Sunghoon.

“What? Why?” Sunghoon whines, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know why you hate her, she’s a sweetheart.”

“Look at her,” Jungwon mutters in disgust as he finally straightens his posture to look at you. “God’s favorite child—Song Y/N. Those stupid ribbons in her hair make me want to barf.”

Sunghoon doesn’t say it, but he’s ultimately very concerned for Yang Jungwon. He’s known the boy for years and it confuses him on why he hates you so much. You have been nothing but nice to the both of them since freshman year of high school.

“Why do you care so much Won?”

“I don’t.”

It’s a lie, one that Sunghoon detects from a mile away.

Yang Jungwon cares. He cares a lot. He lets his hatred of you take over his life, and it leaves him feeling miserable.

When Yang Jungwon walks into creative writing, his favorite class of the day, he is hit by the overwhelming smell of your perfume.

He’s practically memorized it by now because everytime it’d come into his presence, his nose would flare up and his body would tense. Vanilla and macadamia, of course you’d wear something like that.

You probably don’t notice—or at least Jungwon hopes you don’t notice—but he’s always staring at you, quickly looking away when you make eye contact. Sometimes, he’d huff under his breath about how ridiculous you look with your ponytail, even though Yang Jungwon knows it looks adorable on you.

Being around you was like sweet torture in the young brunette’s eyes.

“Jungwon!” You say as you make your way to him on one afternoon. “Congratulations on making it as class secretary! I knew you could do it!”

Jungwon bites the inside of his cheek, not expecting your input.

You’re too nice. You’re way way too nice to him. He thinks.

“Thanks.” He clears his throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Although you were complimenting him, it felt like bullets piercing through his skin.

“I dyed my hair, do you like it?” You give him a smile, oblivious to the current crisis that Yang Jungwon was going through.

You did dye your hair. It was a bright blonde now, kind of reminding him of Regina George, you know—minus the bitch part.

“It’s… okay.” He mutters. “Listen Y/N, I have a lot of work, do you mind?”

You shake your head quickly, muttering out a small apology before taking off to find your friends.

Yang Jungwon wouldn’t ever say it out loud, but you looked dazzling in your newly dyed hair. You looked like Bardot reincarnated, and Yang Jungwon was so fucked because he knew that he couldn’t escape you wherever he’d go.

It was almost as if you were made out of Angel dust.

“Are you out to get me?” Yang Jungwon slams his hand on your table, jolting you from your work.

“What are you talking about?” You say, still putting on a smile despite being confused.

“Are you out to get me?” Jungwon feels out of breath now that he’s all up close and personal to you. “You poison everything I do!”

“What do you mean?” You frown, the feeling of sadness suddenly seeping over you. “Jungwon?”

“You know that I just loathe you lately? Do you Song Y/N?” Jungwon looks away in distress, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “My mind, it’s like I can’t get you out of it, and I don’t know what to do. I hate you—I swear I do—but I don’t know anymore! My mind practically worships you Song Y/N!”

Jungwon’s eyes widen when he realizes he’s said too much, especially when he comes in contact with your face that’s bright red in shock.

“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have—”

“Jungwon, it’s okay.” You take his hands into yours, rubbing it comfortingly. “I kind of knew for a while, Sunghoon told me. I know all these feelings must be confusing but you know I’m here for you regardless.” You smile at him. “I like you Yang Jungwon.”

Jungwon’s mouth goes dry, and for the first time, he can’t think of anything to insult you with. “I.. I like you too Song Y/N.”

“Finally.” Sunghoon emerges suddenly from behind you two, making Jungwon gasp in shock.

“Yah! Don’t do that hyung!” Jungwon complains, hands still holding on tightly to yours.

“Sorry, had to get my two favorite kids together.”

Yang Jungwon wasn’t sure of many things, but he was sure of 2. One: he liked you a lot, and two: he was definitely going to kill Park Sunghoon for telling you everything.

[fastandcarlos]

Accept My Help, Love : ̗̀➛ Ollie Bearman

summary: the last thing your stubborn self needed was an injury, particularly when letting people in to help is a trickier job then it should've been

Your soft eyes looked at Ollie, with your arm wrapped in cast the most mundane jobs were suddenly your biggest challenges. In the Haas hospitality you stood, your plate of food ready to be eaten, but your hands unable to carry. 

With Ollie talking to many of his future team members around him, you found yourself at a crossroads. The table you had wasn’t too far away, and with the strength in your arm getting better day after day, you were sure it was about time to challenge yourself a little more, placing your hands on the hot plate, making sure that your grip was nice and tight on it. 

Usually Ollie was there to help you with most things, but with his career skyrocketing you didn’t have the heart to disturb. As you lifted the plate up, you were feeling pretty confident, surprised by how easy the weight was to carry. However, as you took your first step, your confidence quickly plummeted. 

Before you knew it the plate slipped out of your hands and banged against the counter. The vibrations were loud across the hospitality lounge with several pairs of eyes darting in your direction. 

“Babe?” Ollie questioned, one of those to quickly spin around and see what was going on. 

You weakly smiled across at Ollie as his eyes looked around, piecing together what was going on. “Don’t say it,” you sighed, your shoulders dropping. 

Ollie was used to you pushing yourself, asking for help was a job that you found particularly difficult, especially now that you had your injury too. All Ollie wanted to do was help you with your recovery, and remind you of just how capable your body currently was. 

“Why didn’t you ask me to get it for you?” He asked, picking the plate up, leading you over to your table. 

You hung back behind him, your steps slow and lazy as people slowly started to look away from you too. With a huff you dropped down into your seat, allowing Ollie to place the food in front of you before sitting opposite you. 

“What were you thinking?” He questioned, keeping his eyes firmly on you. 

Your expression was blank, the frustration was clear. By now you had hoped that you would be back to your usual self, hating the fact that you had to constantly rely on other people to get you through day to day. 

“I just wanted to try,” you defended, “I should be able to carry my own plate by now, shouldn’t I? This is where you work, you shouldn’t be spending your day running around after me.” 

Ollie’s hand reached across the table, taking a hold of your own and squeezing it gently. If anyone knew how hard this was for you, it was him. Accepting help wasn’t easy at the best of times, but now it felt as if everyone offered their help out of pity rather than concern. 

“I’m fed-up Ollie, this is ridiculous.” 

Your eyes stared down at the cast around your left forearm, doodles up and down the plaster that some of your closest friends had added to it as reminders to cheer you up whenever you were feeling down. As always, they were particularly drawn to what Ollie had doodled, the biggest heart he could fit on it that he knew you’d adore. 

Your other hand brushed through your hair as you let go of a sigh, “I just want to be me again Ollie, I don’t recognise who I am right now.” 

Ollie nodded understandingly, brushing the pad of his thumb over the back of your hand. “I get it, I’ve had injuries too when I’ve had to count on other people to get me by. But people do genuinely want to help you love.” 

You slowly turned your head up, allowing yourself to see the concern in Ollie’s eyes. “I don’t like the fact that you’re constantly having to put yourself out for me, you can barely sit still because you’re looking around and worrying about me.” 

Ollie continued to hold tightly onto your hand reassuringly, “that’s because I choose to do that, because I care and want to be there for you, whether you’re injured or not.” 

You smiled weakly, feeling tears threaten to spill as a wave of emotion washed over you. “I just want this to end, to rip this stupid cast off now.” 

A faint chuckle came from Ollie, since the day of your incident he had seen firsthand how frustrated you were, particularly as your injury wasn’t your fault to begin with. His heart broke when the doctor told you how serious the fracture was, the recovery period longer than you could’ve ever imagined. 

It was never going to be easy but at the start, you were positive. However, the longer your arm took to fix, the less positive you were. Your negativity had taken Ollie by surprise, he’d never seen you so low, at times wondering if he was the right person to be able to pick you back up. 

He too wanted to rip your cast off, but only when your body was ready for it to be done. “You know, I’m worried about what you’re going to be like when your cast comes off, because you’re going to be so much stronger, and tougher, if people are scared of you now, they should see you with a freshly healed arm.” 

“Do you really not mind helping me out?” You asked Ollie. 

His head shook straight away, without even having to think. “I’m always going to be there for you, injured or not. There are people around you who really do care sweetheart, it’s not embarrassing to ask them for help.” 

“Thank you,” you smiled, watching as Ollie lifted your hand and pressed a kiss against the back of it. “I don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes.” 

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Ollie smiled, “you forget how amazing you are sometimes.” 

“You think so?” 

“I know so.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗