#don't mind me i'm just saving this here just in case :))

[darlingofdots]

What is a romance novel, really?

So far, the response to this post has mostly shown me that a lot of people don't actually know what a romance novel is, and that's okay! I don't expect everyone to know! However, for my own peace of mind, I am going to do my best to explain what we mean when we talk about romance novels, where the genre comes from, and why you should not dismiss the pastel cartoon covers that are taking over the display tables at your nearest chain bookshop. Two disclaimers up front: I've been reading romance novels since I was a teenager, and have dedicated the majority of my academic career to them. I'm currently working on my PhD and have presented/published several papers about the genre; I know what I'm talking about! Secondly, all genres are fake. They're made up. But we use these terms and definitions in order to describe what we see and that's a very important part of science, including literary studies!

The most widely used definition of "romance novel" to this day is from Pamela Regis' 2003 A Natural History of the Romance Novel, in which she states that "A romance novel is a work of prose fiction that tells the story of the courtship and betrothal of one or more [protagonists]."* People also refer to the Romance Writers of America's "a central love story and an emotionally satisfying and optimistic ending" and another term you will see a lot is "Happily Ever After/Happy For Now," which posits that the protagonists must be in a committed and happy relationship at the end of the novel in order to count as a romance novel. That's it. That's what a romance novel is.

Of course it's a bit more complex than that; Regis also posited the Eight Essential Elements which describe the progression of the love plot over the course of the book, and there's a similar breakdown from Gwen Hayes in Romancing the Beat that is intended more as writing advice, but both of these are really useful for breaking down how this narrative structure works. My personal favourite part of the Eight Elements is that the romance opens with a definition of the society in which the protagonists exist, which is flawed in a way that oppresses them, and then the protagonists either overcome or fix it in a way that enables them to achieve their HEA. A lot of social commentary can happen this way!

It can also be a bit difficult to pin down what exactly counts as a "central love story" because who decides? A lot of stories have romance arcs in them, including dudebro action movies and noir mystery novels, but you would never argue that the romance is the central plot. A lot of romance novels have external plots like solving a mystery or saving the bakery. A useful question to ask in this case is whether the external plot exists for its own sake or to facilitate the romance: when Lydia runs off with Wickham in Pride & Prejudice, it's so that Lizzie can find out how much Darcy contributed to saving her family from scandal and realise her own feelings for him. The alien abduction in Ice Planet Barbarians happens specifically so the abducted human women can meet and fall in love with the hunky aliens. There are definitely grey areas here! Romance scholars argue about this all the time!

I have a suspicion that a lot of people who responded to the post I linked above are not actually romance readers, which is fine, but it really shows the lack of understanding of what a romance novel is. I have a secondary suspicion that the way we have been talking about books has contributed to this miscategorisation in a lot of people's minds, because especially with queer books we will often specifically point out that this fantasy book is f/f! This dystopian novel has a gay love story! This puts an emphasis on the romance elements that are present in a book when a lot of the time, the romance arc is just flavouring for the adventure/uprising/heist and we are pointing it out only because its queerness makes it stand out against other non-queer titles. It makes sense why we do this, but there is SUCH a difference between "a sci-fi book with an f/f romance arc" and "an f/f sci-fi romance." I could talk for hours about how the romance genre has evolved alongside and often in the same way as fanfiction and how there are codes and tropes that come up again and again that are immediately recognisable to romance readers, even down to phrases and cover design, and how romance is an incredibly versatile and diverse genre that functions in a very specific way because of that evolutionary process. The same way that dedicated fantasy readers can trace the genealogy of a given text's influences ("this writer definitely plays a lot of DnD which has its roots in the popularity of Tolkien, but they're deliberately subverting these tropes to critique the gender essentialism"), romance readers are often very aware of the building blocks and components of their books. These building blocks (that's what tropes are, lego pieces you put together to create a story!) often show up in other genres as well, especially as part of romantic arcs, but that doesn't make every book that features Only One Bed a romance novel, you know?

Romance is an incredibly versatile and diverse genre and I really highly recommend exploring it for yourself if you haven't. I personally read mostly Regency/Victorian historicals and I've been branching out into specifically f/f contemporaries, and there are so many authors who are using the romance framework to tell beautiful, hard-hitting stories about love and family while grappling with issues of discrimination, disability, mental health, capitalism, you name it. The genre has a very specific image in a lot of people's minds which makes them resistant to it and it's not entirely unjustified, but there is so much more to it than Bridgerton and repackaged Star Wars fanfiction!**

*the original text said "heroines" but Regis later revised this. There is a very good reason for the focus on the heroine in the first couple waves of romance scholarship, but that's a different post!

**neither of these are a bad thing and part of that genealogy that I mentioned earlier.

[dreadnought-despair]

hey y'all yeah this is the post you think it is

after two official tries and several unposted attempts over the course of almost 8 years, i think im calling dreadnought despair, er... mostly dead? BUT im bringing this blog back! ill be picking stuff to answer from the askbox (keep in mind i have a job and im getting old lol) as well as just drawing the kids bc i miss them

i also feel pretty bad about where i left off, so i'm considering finishing out chapter 1 (if i can remember how i had all the code set up 😬) but it would take A While. so heres a poll

more of an explanation under the cut. if you want to see what else I've been up to, check out my art blog @amelias-art and my twitch [AmeliasArt], where i've started streaming pretty regularly on tuesdays and thursdays around 7pm CST!

im sure this cancellation isn't a surprise to anyone but i just wanted to get this out there for my own peace of mind

it has nothing to do with the wonderful folks who supported me through the years and everything to do with my mental health, getting older, and frankly poor story planning. it's a classic case of a project that never had a strong outline and thus ballooned in scope as it went-- you'll see what i mean when i start trying to answer asks about what would've been the endgame LOL. and ill do my best to answer some stuff, but there are some unintroduced concepts and characters that i would like to save for other stories so i may be vague about parts of it

even if it was masterfully planned, though, it still would've been hard to really pick up again-- I started this fic in college when I was at my most suicidal, and the reboot happened in 2020 which, well anyway,, im in a better place now with a loving husband, a stable job, a healthier relationship with my queerness, and multiple mental health diagnoses and medications. im proud of what i did accomplish with dreadnought, and im grateful to it and the community for getting me through some miserable times, but it's still a reminder of those times in and of itself. maybe by officially shelving it i can move on

thank you so much for sticking around! it really means a lot to me

[nyxnightshade7656]

Hooked(Pt2)

I'll be honest. I have no idea where this is all really going. But it's fun to write. Hope you guys enjoy, any ideas/constructive criticism, by all means. Help. Also, prerequisite "I don't speak Cajun or French" and I'm sorry if Google Translate makes you mad, but it's kinda all I got. Writing in accents is hard, despite speaking with a deep southern drawl my whole life XD And if ya wanna be tagged, I guess let me know? I think I'm doing it right.

She sighed and made her way back to her window, which was a little more difficult to find in the dark. Then she just stared up at it for a long moment. She had not thought this through, clearly. From the ground to the window was a five-foot gap. There was nothing to really put her fingers or toes into for grip, curse the perfect maintenance on the building. And she hadn’t thought to just drop a rope, of which there was a disturbing amount to be found, or something similar to be able to climb up. And with her phone dead, she couldn’t exactly ‘phone a friend’ for assistance. She rubbed her hands over her face in annoyance at herself.

Just as she was about to give up and turn back to the forest, it wouldn’t have been the first time sleeping in a tree, a voice called down from above, “Now, Petite, what’chu doin’ out here, huh? Gon’ an’ gotcha self locked out? Good thin’ Ol’ Gambit was out patrollin’. Lemme help ya up.” She looked up, eyes wide, to see Gambit looking out the window above her own. He had a smile on his face and looked like the cat that had gotten the canary. Which was to say, entirely too pleased with himself.

Normally she would deny help, just because she hated to bother other people with her problems, but this time she was willing to make an exception. She just nodded. Gambit smiled again, “Hang tight, be down in a jiff.” Then he was gone from the window and she was left with her thoughts. Thankfully, he didn’t leave her outside for long. Soon enough, he was walking up to her.

“So, how’d ya en’ up ou’ere, huh? We all thought you was hol’up in yer room.” He said with a grin as he motioned back the direction he had come from. No doubt, the front doors. She sighed as she turned to follow him, but not before she glanced up towards her window one last time. Gambit caught her glance easily and followed her gaze. It didn’t take much for him to put two and two together, “Ah, jumped out t’window, hm? Cleaver. T’oh a good teif knows to leave a proper ‘scape route. Or return route in dis case. Why not call’er text ta be let back in?”

She grabbed her phone out of her back pocket, showed him the dark screen, then drew her finger across her throat in the universal sign for ‘dead’. He shook his head, “I see. Well, guess you lucked out wit me bein’ a night owl, huh Petite?” She nodded, just once, and gave him a grateful look. Because he had saved her, even if it was just from a minor inconvenience of having to find a tree to sleep in for the night.

His emotions tasted like cinnamon, vanilla and bourbon on her tongue. Warm, soothing, and with a slight spice. Comfort, care, curiosity, and something light and airy that she couldn’t put a name to. She couldn’t read minds like Xavier or Jean, though she had heard even if she could it would be pointless since Gambit seemed to be able to counteract telepaths. She hadn’t gotten the details on the how, just overheard that he could. But whatever it was that enabled him to escape a telepath’s abilities didn’t seem to help him escape her Empathic abilities, because his emotions were like an open book to her.

They made it to the front doors; that Gambit had left propped open which allowed a warm inviting light spilling onto the stone steps from inside. Not many people realized it, but it wasn’t just living creatures that could have emotions. Wood and stone held residual emotion, particularly strong ones. She could feel the emotions that had seeped into the wood and stone of the mansion over the years of it being occupied. It was yet one more reason why she would hide away or try to escape as much as possible. Her first day in the mansion had nearly driven her to insanity before Xavier had managed to place a temporary shield around her mind to help dull the intensity. Now she was able to create her own mental shields that were almost as strong. Still not enough to be normal, but better.

 “Here ya’re Petite, even left th’ light on for ya.” Gambit teased. The playful teasing tone of his voice perfectly matched the happy-joy-warm-citrusy taste of his emotions. They were so strong that she could feel her own lips pulling into a smile against her will. And of course, he picked up on her smile instantly, “Aww, dat fer me? Should smile more, looks good on ya.” He stepped to the side and, as if he were a prince from a fairy tale, bowed with his arms motioning towards the door, “After you, Chaton.”

She shook her head, unable to stop the smile that seemed almost permanently etched on her face, and stepped inside the mansion. Once inside, she closed her eyes and took a breath. It was something she had to do anytime she walked into a place not one hundred percent her own. She allowed the emotions to flow through her, hateangerfearlovejoypeaceexcitementconcernprotectiveness; but she did not hold on to them. She processed the feelings, acknowledged them, and then released them back into the room. It was the only way she could maintain her sanity.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand on her shoulder, “Ya alrigh’? Ya always quiet, but rarely ever see ya be still as death.” Concern, worry, anxiety; it all tasted like the bitter pith of citrus. She hated it instantly. She shook her head and forced a smile. She had taught herself ASL years ago, about two years after her Siren Song had reared its ugly head and all but forced her to be Mute. But she had learned that nearly no one knew ASL unless they had a loved one that was Mute or Deaf. Which, in turn, relegated her to notebooks or her phone’s talk-to-speech function. Her phone was dead, and she was clearly without a notebook, so that left her with the world’s worst rendition of charades as her only option of communication. So for now, she just went with a simple, unmistakable, hand sign. She held her pinky, ring, and middle fingers up; while her thumb and pointer made a circle. The universal sign for ‘Ok’, followed by pointing to herself.

Gambit chuckled, “One’a dees days, gonna hear that voice a’yers. But alrigh’, you’re good. I hear ya, loud and clear Petite. I’ll walk ya t’yer room.” Before she could physically protest, he placed his hand on her lower back and started to guide her. His emotions made it clear that he didn’t think she couldn’t take care of herself, which she would have taken immediate offense to, but he still felt protective. Curious, and was that affection? She bit her lip, suddenly shy and unsure of herself. She wasn’t sure what to make of those emotions.

“Here ya’re Petite. How’s ‘bout you head on in and get some shuteye, yeah?” He waited until she had opened her door and stepped over the threshold before he leaned into her space, crowding her against the doorway, yet leaving her a clear escape if she so chose, “And Petite? I happen ta be fond of chats. Da kitten ya made Stormy was cute. Still waitin’ fer my lil’ surprise.” He pressed the words against the shell of her ear, making her heartrate kick into triple time. And when he pressed a fleeting; barely there to the point of making her think she might have imaged it, kiss against her jaw, just under her ear, she almost felt like the world as a whole had come to a screeching halt.

He leaned back and gave her a playful wink and casual wave, “Fais de beaux rêves, Petite. Sweet dreams.” And like that, he was gone. And she was left to try and figure out if she had imagined everything that had happened, or if it had been real.

[egophiliac]

just thinking about hair and faces

[absentlyabbie]

seriously, though. i work in higher education, and part of my job is students sending me transcripts. you'd think the ones who have the least idea how to actually do that would be the older ones, and while sure, they definitely struggle with it, i see it most with the younger students. the teens to early 20s crowd.

very, astonishingly often, they don't know how to work with .pdf documents. i get garbage phone screenshots, sometimes inserted into an excel or word file for who knows what reason, but most often it's just a raw .jpg or other image file.

they definitely either don't know how to use a scanner, don't have access to one, or don't even know where they might go for that (staples and other office supply stores sometimes still have these services, but public libraries always have your back, kids.) so when they have a paper transcript and need to send me a copy electronically, it's just terrible photos at bad angles full of thumbs and text-obscuring shadows.

mind bogglingly frequently, i get cell phone photos of computer screens. they don't know how to take a screenshot on a computer. they don't know the function of the Print Screen button on the keyboard. they don't know how to right click a web page, hit "print", and choose "save as PDF" to produce a full and unbroken capture of the entirety of a webpage.

sometimes they'll just copy the text of a transcript and paste it right into the message of an email. that's if they figure out the difference between the body text portion of the email and the subject line, because quite frankly they often don't.

these are people who in most cases have done at least some college work already, but they have absolutely no clue how to utilize the attachment function in an email, and for some reason they don't consider they could google very quickly for instructions or even videos.

i am not taking a shit on gen z/gen alpha here, i'm really not.

what i am is aghast that they've been so massively failed on so many levels. the education system assumed they were "native" to technology and needed to be taught nothing. their parents assumed the same, or assumed the schools would teach them, or don't know how themselves and are too intimidated to figure it out and teach their kids these skills at home.

they spend hours a day on instagram and tiktok and youtube and etc, so they surely know (this is ridiculous to assume!!!) how to draft a formal email and format the text and what part goes where and what all those damn little symbols means, right? SURELY they're already familiar with every file type under the sun and know how to make use of whatever's salient in a pinch, right???

THEY MUST CERTAINLY know, innately, as one knows how to inhale, how to type in business formatting and formal communication style, how to present themselves in a way that gets them taken seriously by formal institutions, how to appear and be competent in basic/standard digital skills. SURELY. Of course. RIGHT!!!!

it's MADDENING, it's insane, and it's frustrating from the receiving end, but even more frustrating knowing they're stumbling blind out there in the digital spaces of grown-up matters, being dismissed, being considered less intelligent, being talked down to, because every adult and system responsible for them just

ASSUMED they should "just know" or "just figure out" these important things no one ever bothered to teach them, or half the time even introduce the concepts of before asking them to do it, on the spot, with high educational or professional stakes.

kids shouldn't have to supplement their own education like this and get sneered and scoffed at if they don't.

[sanctus-ingenium]

we need to talk about Inprnt.com

Following a really good post with more screenshots and evidence by @dynasoar5 i'm going to talk about my own experiences with @inprnt and why I am about to put my shop on indefinite hiatus from Monday the 14th of August.

First of all I'll say that since starting my print shop last year it has been a significant help to me financially - I was able to not worry about affording car insurance or motor tax (together commonly over a thousand euro) when I bought my first car, for example. I am immeasurably grateful to anyone who chose to buy one and I treasure all the pictures I've been sent of my prints hanging up on people's walls. Right now they are displayed in a real (if small) art exhibition in my home town.

(top right print is not from inprnt though)

They're great prints. Never had any complaints about them. But here's what's going on behind the scenes.

Earlier this year, around March or April, Inprnt sales started increasing in regularity. I'd made as much as $600 a week during previous sales when I made proper promo posts here, but with this increase in regularity, I felt that I couldn't make promo posts every single week. And then one day, I'm not sure when tbh, the sale just never ended. It just didn't stop having that "Ending soon! 15% off your order" banner at the top of the site. Right now it says "Final Hours: $5 Worldwide shipping and save up to 35% off your order!" and not even for a second do I believe in this final hours bullshit. It's been 'final hours' for weeks now. Months, even.

Why is this a problem? Well, how tf am I meant to make a promo post for a sale that is always "ending soon!!" and then never ends. One week it'll say "this weekend only!!" and then when the weekend is over, the sale banner just changes its wording and the sale doesn't end. I can't promo this, it makes me look like a liar and a skeevy salesman by association! It makes the site look like it's 1 week from crashing and burning, and the site owners are just scrabbling to suck as much money from artists as possible before they drown.

And they are sucking money from us. To peel back the curtain, Inprnt money can only be transferred to my paypal account 30 days after the sale is made, just in case the order is cancelled and refunded. This means I used to make one withdrawal every couple of months, when there was enough build-up of money to make it worthwhile. It also forbids withdrawing any sum under $50 btw. I would make a withdrawal request and then, after a 10 business day wait, it would reach my Paypal account.

Not anymore! The past few withdrawals have taken over a month to complete. They are straight up keeping my earnings from me for longer the agreed period. This was my last fulfilled withdrawal:

Note the date.

Almost two months.

And here is the latest withdrawal request that still has not been fulfilled.

It's coming up on 1 month and if the pattern continues, it could literally be November or December by the time I fully clear all sales.

So what's going to happen to my print shop? Because my art is currently being exhibited with a QR code linking to the shop, I can't close the shop this week. Instead I will close it on Monday the 14th of August, next week. That means that on the 14th of September, I can withdraw all of the remaining money without having any left over. My account balance will go to 0 and stay there. Although I'll de-list my prints I will leave my account there, because at the end of the day I don't want to leave Inprnt. It still offers the best artist margins and as I'm now unemployed after graduating, the additional support is such a load off my mind. So this is a chance to wait and see - if they improve their services, I'll happily re-open.

It's a big deal to me because selling prints is sort of my ideal life as an artist. I never had the attention span or self-discipline for commission work and I found that it left me creatively stagnant. I always want to try new things, new concepts and ideas, and being able to think "yeah, people will like this as a print" while I experiment is honestly very reassuring. And I know that in going on hiatus, it'll break a lot of "buy a print" links in my circulating posts. Oh well lmao. If you want to buy a print right now - go ahead, it might be your last opportunity. Another way to support me would be to check out my ko-fi for once-off donations or some nice sketchbooks/comics/book samples you can buy, or subscribing to my Patreon.

As of right now, Inprnt owes me $381 (the unfulfilled request submitted above for $186.60 and my current standing balance of $194.80 which takes 30 days from each transaction to clear).

[cupidkenji]

Doctor, Doctor, please listen!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Chubby!Fem!reader Cw; Tension (I tried), cursing, the smallest physical description of reader in the last portion (just mentions their stomach going over their pants), reader has scars from previous cases, rivals to lovers?, lmk if i'm missing smth Summary: 3 times you called him doctor, 3 times he wonders why. Disclaimer: Reader is always written with a chubby/bigger person in mind but I don't really ever describe their bodies that much cause it's x READER and every body has a different body <3 WC: 3,596 I am literally so obsessed with criminal minds somebody save my soul OBLIVOUS IDIOTS WHO WANT EACH OTHER MY BELOVED. Title from mad hatter by Melanie Martinez don't even @ me for that

1.

“...she will be an important part of making your team function quicker. We fought hard to get her here. I ask that you all treat her with respect and not make me intervene.” 

Strauss finished her introductory spiel with a familiar “mom-glare” towards the team, walking away once she finished her speech. Unfortunately, her departure left you standing alone in front of the most intimidating man you’ve ever seen and four of his team members. You had been practically still until now. You hated the pressure of everyone’s eyes on you, causing a general freeze response to the stress of a new team. Fawn, you thought, the newest addition to the fight or flight categories and also the lovely thing forcing you to practically disassociate in front of your new boss and co-workers. 

“Welcome, Dr. L/N. We’ve heard good things. I’m Aaron Hotchner, I supervise the team.” He was leaning on the table before he stepped forward to shake your hand as he spoke. “This is Emily Prentiss, Jenifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, and Doctor Spencer Reid.” He pointed towards the corresponding people as he spoke of them. “Agent Rossi is away right now, and you’ll meet our T.I. later…she’s been excited.” If you hadn’t been good at your job, you’re sure you would have missed the way his lips turned up slightly at the edges when mentioning the woman. He didn’t seem so scary anymore, more like a father of the team. You’d been expecting a drill sergeant - your last team leader could have given a bull a run for it’s money with how much aggression that guy had. You welcomed the rush of excitement you felt at the discovery, mentally shaking off the stiffness you were carrying. 

“I’m happy to be here, sir. I’ve heard good things about the team, too. Your boss seems to think highly of your capabilities.” You addressed the room as you spoke. Public speaking was a skill you were still trying to master, so you practiced whenever you could. 

Your statement earned a chuckle from the table. Nobody bothered to explain the reason. You figured it was too much history to sum up on the spot. Your eyes wanted to linger on Reid. He seemed so young, and you wondered if he’d been told that his entire career - lord knows you had too. A fellow doctor. You assumed he was a bit of a stickler about the title, as even his boss kept it tacked onto his name when introducing him. You’d originally hoped to find some comfort in the man, on the surface he seemed a lot like you. He was probably too smart for his own good as well. Given the way he was staring at you, though, you felt the realization sink in that the man had no intention of welcoming you. 

“Why exactly do we need another profiler?” His voice held no malice as he spoke in the direction of his boss. There was more curiosity in his voice than anything, however you did pick up on the sense of superiority that sat just beneath the surface of his words. You guessed that’s how he behaved generally - as though he was superior. Still, your head tilted slightly to the side at the question. 

Damn. Tough crowd. 

You saw the intake of breath in Hotchner as he prepared to defend your place here but you spoke before he could start. “While I am a profiler, sir, first and foremost I am a psychiatrist - a doctor. As I’m sure you heard from Strauss, the board is unhappy with your recent efficiency rates and would also like to aid your team in dealing with mental health crises. I’ve spent my entire life studying the effects and conditions of the mentally diseased brain. I’ll be able to tell you the most efficient and effective way of interacting with these individuals, along with more accurately predicting their actions and methodology. I’m an agent, I took the same oath everyone here did but I was brought here for my expertise.” You were on a bit of a tangent, you knew that, but something about the smug feel of the man forced an emergence of competitiveness. He looked at you so indifferent, and you couldn’t help the tiny sparks of anger lighting beneath your skin. You kept a friendly disposition towards the man - you were a professional, after all, not a teenager - but you sensed a rivalry sprouting it’s roots.

The others at the table suppressed their smiles or looked down to hide it. Nobody had ever challenged Spencer like that. They could all feel he was a tad bit territorial. He was the guy people went to when they needed to know something. He was the Doctor of the group. They didn’t think he would take too kindly to another one encroaching his land. They saw the way he was tense, even more so after you responded. It was a riveting sight, though. The lot of them saw Spencer as a younger brother, and him meeting his match was something they were all so excited to see.

“Play nice, pretty boy.” Derek muttered to him, Spencer was slightly slouched in his chair now, not losing sight of you. Derek followed suit, turning his attention towards you. “We’re glad to have you, Doctor. We’ve spoken about an addition like you before, I’m glad to see the higher ups finally listened. I look forward to working with you - excuse me.” He left once his phone rang. 

The others took his exit as an excuse for their own, everyone giving you a warm welcome as they left. You reciprocated happily, telling everyone they could just call you by your first name, never having been one for titles. ‘There’s one difference.’ You thought, even your internal dialogue was bitter. Aside from him, there was a warmth here that you had been desperate to find in your last team. If you had to work passive aggressively with one uptight man in exchange for a team like this - you were going to take that deal. 

He refused to leave it seemed. He just sat looking inquisitively at the table, occasionally extending his stare to look at you before returning. How did you two end up alone in this room?

“Are you gonna have a problem with me, Doctor?” You shifted slightly on your feet. A notoriously nervous sign, one he definitely picked up on.

He stared again. It was his mind that kept him rooted in his seat. You were fucking alluring. He’d never met someone so like himself in his line of work. He was being a dick and he knew it but it seemed to be instinctual - some type of precaution, maybe. He didn’t know why you were being so respectful. Doctor. God, he didn’t know if the title had ever sounded so good being directed at him. His frustration only rose as he thought on the issue more. He wasn’t welcoming, it would be so easy to drop the formality, something he knew you knew would get on his nerves. But you didn’t. It didn’t seem like a question of dignity. You didn’t seem like the type to refuse a little pettiness - he sure wasn’t the type either. A thought stirred, an unsafe one he wanted to squash immediately but one he also couldn’t help but lean into. Did you want a power imbalance?

“No.” He stood abruptly, obviously still focused on the thoughts in his head. “Welcome to the team.” He addressed you one last time and then walked out of the room.

You followed shortly after, ready to make home on your couch and be done with being the newbie for the day. Your stress would follow you home, though, as the last thing you heard before you left the building was “Oh my god they’re perfect for each other.”

2.

The first few weeks were always the hardest. This was something you knew and were prepared for but it did nothing to calm your nerves. You’d been on countless missions having worked this job for a while now, but this was an entirely new dynamic to learn. You were an outsider for the first time in four years and it was scary. This case was shaping up to be a rough one, too. A man was having delusions telling him to kill. An extremely rare manifestation of his Schizophrenia, only elevated by the newly acquired aspect of him being an insomniac. 

Spencer hadn’t ceased being headstrong in cases either. Every time you wanted to help he made it his mission to overcompensate in order to snuff you out. On the contrary, he’d warmed up to you a little. It wasn’t major, he barely held any positive feelings toward you, but barely was better than not at all, so you coped. You two had managed a couple small talk conversations outside the battle of one-upping that you were currently losing. You absolutely hated it, but you liked him. You liked him a lot, actually. You don’t know when in the past few days that anger morphed into fondness but it had shifted hard. The casual dominance he exuded drew you in like a porchlight lures a moth. You doubted the opposite proved true for him, and that stung. You came to enjoy the banter, the competition, even if you were always playing the losing hand. It was the only way to get his undivided attention and the feeling of his eyes on you started to follow you home. 

You thought a lot about how you could get the relationship to pivot into something better. You didn’t want to be the girl he bickered with at work. You didn’t know what it was you wanted but you knew that your current fate sounded horrid. He was an ass, though, and he did not make it easy to admit those feelings. Every time he undermined you, you grew more attached and also more angry at yourself for doing so. It was because he’s so much like you, you thought. You knew from the way he interacted with his team that he wasn’t a cold guy, didn’t hold malice towards people for no reason. He needs time. He needs to know you, and God how badly you wanted to know him. 

You had sustained good relations with everyone the past few weeks you’ve been here. Meeting Garcia and Rossi had been a treat - both of them being delightful company. You’d heard them whispering about you and Spencer when they thought you weren’t around. The whole team seems to think that you’re basically fated to be together. It was unnerving how comforting that thought was to you. You hoped they were right. 

Spencer hoped they were right too. He’d heard the same whispers you had, chastising the team when he got the chance as if he didn’t think about you every moment he could. His eyes seemed to naturally land on you if you were around. He watched you walk around the bureau more and more lately, enjoying the gained confidence in your step as you cemented your place in the team. The sway of your hips or the swing of your arms. You mesmerized him no matter what you did. One time he got so caught up in his thoughts of you that Prentiss had to check he wasn’t having a silent panic attack. He clung to his sense of resentment, tried so hard to remind himself of the feelings he had when he first met you - you were beautiful, of course you were - but you were on claimed land and he was anything but eager for you to make home on it. That had faded fast, seeing how kind you were, scrambling to help and earn respect from everyone. The only reason he kept up the act of  “man who wants you gone” was so that he could keep talking to you. Spencer was a genius but he didn’t know how to handle someone like you. He’d been interested in girls before, hell he’d had girlfriends before but it had never felt like this in such little time. Such intense infatuation was crippling for someone who’s brain worked in patterns - this was new ground for him. 

“Everybody suit up. We have Foster’s location and we need to move quickly. He’s going after the source of his rage and we don’t have time to spare.” Hotch came down the stairs two at a time, spurring the team into action. 

“This man is highly dangerous but also highly deluded. The cases I’ve read similar to this say it’s best to speak gently. He’s sick but he can be reasoned with.” Spencer pulls from his memory as he sets his ‘FBI’ vest into place on his chest. 

“No, not this time. This man is too severe, his mind is too far gone. If these hallucinations of his are strong enough for him to touch them it’ll be extremely easy for him to rearrange or imagine your words differently. You need to be loud, direct, and assertive. Speak as little as possible. The quieter you are, the easier it will be for him to change what you’re saying in his head.” You also spoke while putting your vest on. You didn’t carry a weapon - a personal vow of yours, as you were more than classified to - so there were no holsters to fill. The contradictions between the two doctors of the team made everyone hesitate even though they lacked the time to do so.

Spencer looked at you, slightly out of breath from working so quickly. “You’re questioning my memory?” 

“I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor. I’m questioning your sources. There’s a higher risk level if we do what you’re suggesting. Let me do my job.” You made the final adjustments to your attire as you finished speaking. You returned his eye contact for just a beat too long, letting the others rush out of the building while you stood your ground, the two of you begrudgingly following after them a moment later.

You had been assigned a different car than him for the ride over. ‘Thank God’ was the only thing you could think when you saw him heading to the other SUV. After another confrontation - another public one, at that - you weren’t sure you could handle being pressed leg to leg with him in the backseat. Your words were a looping record in his head as he rode towards Foster. They were about to attempt a hostage negotiation with a man seeing people who weren’t there but all he could think about was that fucking word you refused to drop. 

I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor

You had to be doing this on purpose, he thought. He originally believed this had started because you knew stripping him of his beloved title would cause irritation. Now he suspected you knew how badly he wanted his name in your mouth and this was your way of torturing him. ‘It’s working.’ He thought. God was it working. He agreed with his team, you were perfect for him. You had knowledge to match his, kept him on his toes. One time the start of a ramble slipped through his “I don’t like you” façade and he felt his heart speed up at the genuine interest that roused in your eyes. You wanted to know him and he was an idiot for all the shit he was doing. 

He wasn’t surprised when your strategy worked and Ben Foster was taken into custody. You were the one to talk him down, and if you hadn’t already been accepted to the team, he knew then and there that they needed you. You were flawless. He knew you’d been doing this as long as he had and it showed. He pleaded with himself to stay focused, zeroed in on the weight of the gun in his hand to save face. His mind never left you, though, much like his eyes. This was the expertise you spoke of - no wonder they fought hard to get you here. 

“You were excellent in there.” It was just the two of you now. Even in the dull, flashing police lights, you were breathtaking. “Good job.” He said. Then he walked away because he was on the brink of kissing you and didn’t feel like breaking about 18 workplace rules while at the scene of a crime. You wouldn’t have been complaining if he did.

3.

Every time something like this happened it was difficult to remind yourself that not carrying a weapon was a choice you made willingly. You were currently sitting in the back of an open ambulance, about to be hoisted onto a stretcher and driven to the ER for stitches. You’ve been with the BAU for almost 3 months now and have miraculously managed to avoid injury in that time. This had been one of the easier cases. No chases or clues to follow, just a sick man who left a fairly obvious paper trail. You were the speaker on almost all cases. You were in charge of de-escalating a situation, making sure the bomb didn’t blow. You’ve never carried a weapon, always preferring to take the wounds of a job over using a gun to back up your words. You were a psychiatrist, you wanted to make people better, not vilify them. It worked, usually. People did tend to trust you more when you were unarmed. This time, though, it got you stabbed.

It wasn’t a bad injury, the blood had already stopped and was mildly dry by the time Spencer was joining you. Just one more scar to your collection. It was to the side of your quad, missing any artery by miles and just serving as a pain source at this point. A little numbing and some stitches and you’d be right as rain is what the doctor in the ambulance had said. 

“What happened?” He spoke softly to you. There wasn’t a rivalry between you two, not really. The banter hadn’t stopped, but it changed. It was playful and actually fun now. The both of you weren’t obsessed with outdoing the other anymore. Some casual boastfulness and a budding friendship is where you were at with him currently. 

“I got stabbed.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.”

He exhaled like he couldn’t comprehend the stupidity of your answer. You laughed at that. One enjoyable pastime you’d picked up in the past month was trying to bewilder him. The EMT said he needed to check the rest of your body for injury despite your protest of such a procedure. It was typical and you knew that, but you held onto the fear of your own body that middle school gave you. There was a man you liked here, and the thought of him seeing the bit of stomach that hung outside the waistline of your pants scared you more than you thought it would. You forced yourself to be rational in spite of this. It was Spencer, you wanted to be seen by him. 

“Holy shit.”

You chuckled at that. You forgot that maybe a warning was in order for the amount of scars that littered your stomach.

“Probably should have told you about those.” There were dozens. You amassed a countless amount of scars over the course of your job. Stab wounds, bullet grazes, burn marks. Unsubs, as much as you tried to empathize, were often violent at the end of the day and usually lashed out before they could be helped. 

He was staring - well, gazing more like. Not like someone stares at a car accident on the freeway but instead how someone stares at the moon - awe. He was in awe of you. Your strength, your courage, the fact that you went through all these individual events and still chose not to arm yourself. Some of these were in places that could have been fatal, and he thanked whatever entity may be listening that you persevered, begged them to continue that streak. He crashed hard into the desire to touch you, to run his hands over what little of your past he could see. He wondered if you would let him. If you’d fit into his palms the way he thought you would - if that was something you even wanted. The EMT was gone by now, having moved to the passenger seat for the ride to the hospital. 

“Could I - " He hesitated for a moment, this was definitely the wrong question to ask. “Can I touch you?”

Your eyes glazed over slightly. Jesus. You felt your lips part a little.

“You want to?” Genuine surprise. You didn’t think you looked particularly desirable in your current state. He wanted to touch your fucking scars. Who does he think he is?

“Please.” He was looking at you in a way you hadn’t seen before. His eyes were glazed over too. You held his eyes as you nodded. The heat was so stifling that you laughed just a little at the tension.

“Fucking hell, Spence.”

Blood shot to his ears when you said his name. It had been well worth the wait to hear you say it like that - breathy and confused and so fucking pretty that he wondered how he ever lived before you said it. 

“Will you tell me about them?” He was breathy too, but he wouldn’t have you here, not like this. He just needed to feel you. 

“I’ll tell you anything you want, Doc.”

His hands were warm. It wouldn’t be the last time you felt them.

[cdbabymp3]

can u write something about hamzah being nervy for his first time w u cus he’s a virgin 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 i’d actually go insane

𐙚the first time ― hamzahthefantastic

notes/warnings: nsfw !! reader is slightly more experienced than hamzah this might be the first and last time i write a full length fic for this acc i went through every stage of grief making this

it started super innocent. a couple kisses exchanged in the kitchen while making dinner together. you guys had decided to have a little fancy date night at home, since it was pouring rain outside. hamzah lit candles and everything. while eating dinner, you can feel his energy radiate off of him, like he's longing for something but won't quite say what. usually he's pretty straightforward with his feelings, hating to beat around the bush, but right now... this was not the case.

"is everything alright?" you ask softly, as he gets up to clear your empty plates

he places the plates in the sink, looking up at you, "uh, yeah? why? does it seem like something's up?' he speaks a mile a minute, now clumsily rinsing the dirty dishes

"well, no. i don't know, you just seem like there's something on your mind." you further, he keeps his gaze down at the dishes, scrubbing and rinsing far more than what's needed. is he stalling?

"nah, i'm fine, don't worry." he lies poorly, grabbing a rag and starting to dry the plates. his eyes are still failing to meet yours, a tell-tale sign he's not being honest.

dating for 4 months, intimacy and sex was a topic hamzah always found a way to tip toe around. yes, you guys have talked about sex before, but it was never in a serious way. he would always make a joke to the only way you even found out about his lack of experience was during a drunken night, trying to get him into bed to sleep.

"wait, hold up-i've never done this before, i've never done this before, i've never done this before... y/n wait...." he slurred out, delirious laughter quickly turning into panicked muttering

the memory burns in the back of your mind, even more so because he hasn't brought up that night since, nor do you think he even remembers.

he's still drying an already-dry-plate with so much force, that the plate dwindles nearly in and out of his grip. he bites the inside of his cheek, eyes narrow. something's festering, it's so plain to see.

"are you sure? because you can tell me if it's-"

before you could get another word out, the plate he was holding slips out of his hand, hitting the kitchen floor and breaking into a million pieces.

"fuck." he sighs, throwing the rag into the sink angrily and puts a hand over his eyes

you step over to him slowly, trying to avoid the ceramic shards on the floor.

"hamzah-"

"no, don't come over here. let me clean it up first." he removes the hand from his eyes, revealing you standing a foot away with a hand extended towards him to reach for. he thinks on it for a moment, but takes it, walking out of the kitchen and into your embrace.

"what's going on, hm?" you rub his back, trying to calm him down

"it's so fucking embarrassing, y/n, trust me. i can't even say it out loud." he mumbles, releasing himself from the hug and taking a seat on the couch

you follow him, sitting in the adjacent chair. waiting patiently for him to speak, you give him a reassuring smile. it's silent for so long and at this point, you start to catch onto what has him so distraught; the only milestone in your relationship that's been left unconquered. you can practically see the cogs in his brain turning and processing how he wants to go about telling you this information. to save him from his spiraling, you decide to intervene. "you know i don't care, right?" vague enough not to scare him from the topic, but hopefully enough to allude to what he's trying to say.

"care about what?" he frowns, head titled

"remember that night when you got really drunk and i had to drive us home? and you were super delirious, so i had to help you get ready for bed?" he simply nods, still not seeing where you're going with this. "well-um, when i was helping you change out of your clothes and get into bed, you kept repeating 'i've never done this before' over and over again. i didn't want to assume you meant it that way, but..."

he now puts not one, but both hands over his eyes, sheer humiliation hits him like a 50-foot wave. "oh my fucking god, that's so embarrassing."

"what- no, no, no. it's okay, trust me. it's okay, hamzah, seriously."

he hunches over so his elbows rest on his knees, face in his palms, as he's trying to process this. "i-wow... you knew this whole time too, that's crazy." still reeling, he laughs nervously.

"hamzah, it literally changes nothing for me. i just want you to feel comfortable enough to talk to me about it." you get up and sit next to him, putting a hand on his thigh for comfort.

"i know, i know. i was gonna say something tonight," he lifts his face from his hands, "that's why i was so wound up, i think...nerves, you know?"

"yeah, i understand."

"i feel really guilty sometimes... like, that we haven't done anything. i don't want you to think that it's because i don't want to- i do, i really do. i don't know why, but i get so nervous anytime we're in the moment and it could happen. i always chicken out. i just want it to be good for you..."

your heart melts at his confession. "hey, no, don't feel guilty. i'm willing to wait. whenever you're ready, i'm ready." your hand leaves his thigh and rubs his back the way he likes. he snickers and your hand pauses. "what?"

"that's what i was gonna talk to you about; whether or not you wanted to, um...tonight?"

"oh! i-"

"i mean, if you don't want to, we don't have to. i thought that it seemed like a good night since it's just us and the rain outside is honestly kinda romantic, i don't know, maybe i-"

you put a hand over his mouth and you can feel him smile against your palm. "you're overthinking this."

"i-" his voice is muffled against your hand, so he lightly takes your wrist and removes it. "i'm overthinking, but also have no idea what the fuck to do. i mean-i know 'what to do' in a biological sense, but like-" he catches himself in the middle of another ramble and nods knowingly, shaping his lips into a thin line.

"we can take it slow, yeah? just breathe..." you whisper, the hand that was once placed on his back slithering to the back of his head, causing him to turn his face to you.

"okay." he matches your tender volume, allowing his body to relax with a long exhale

you wait for all the air to peacefully leave his lungs before grabbing his hand and getting up. it takes him a second, but he obliges as you lead him into his bedroom. you give him a quick kiss, crawling onto the bed as he follows suit.

"c'mere" you coo

he can't hide the excitement on his face, getting on the bed with urgency and positioning his frame above yours. you wrap your hands around the back of his head and engulf him in a heated kiss. one arm stabilizes him above you, while the other holds your hip. this he's done with you before, this was his comfort zone. what comes next is new and surprises you. his hand glides from your hip, up your torso to your right boob, giving it a squeeze over your shirt. a pleased sigh gets caught in your throat and you feel his hand hesitate, so you put a hand on top of his to continue. it's funny because you can tell he does actually know what to do, but it's obvious that doing with an actual person is throwing him off a little. after a moment or two, he moves on to your other boob, giving it equal attention. you start to play with the hem of his shirt, which he's quick to notice and pulls off. his lips connect with your neck this time and the contact makes your stomach feel incredibly warm. his position in between your legs gives you easy access to his toned chest and torso, so you slide your hands from his collarbones down to right before the waistline of his pants as he continues to his ministrations on your neck. this earns a low hum from him, the vibration of the sound against your neck makes you giggle. he giggles too, happy that some of his nervous tension is being relieved. some minutes pass and you feel what will be a generously sized hickey tomorrow morning planted just below your jaw as hamzah's mouth leaves the skin to breathe.

"um... i should probably get you out of these." his fingertips ghost under the band of your midi skirt and underwear, to which you nod more desperate than you mean to. he cracks his famous grin before sliding the skirt down your legs. once it reaches your ankles you kick it off. he looks down at your black, lacy underwear and blinks slowly. in this brief pause, you take the liberty to peel off your top. to hamzah's delight, your bra matches your underwear with a pink bow in the center.

"you're so cute" he beams, kissing your lips, mouth then heading down between your cleavage to your navel. he leaves sloppy, open-mouthed kisses until he reaches the thin line of your underwear, giving your clothed-clit a sweet kiss.

"mmh" your hips jerk up involuntarily

"yeah? that good, baby?" he asks genuinely, his innocent voice starkly contrasting how his fingers loop around your underwear and drag them down your thighs. feeling your underwear completely off, you sit up to rid yourself of your bra but he clicks his tongue. "i got it."

"oh, you got it?" you tease and he rolls his eyes

"shh" he pulls one of the straps down your shoulder, enough to kiss where it previously was before reaching behind and undoing the clasps swiftly. the garment slips down your arms and he catches it, tossing it alongside the rest of your discarded clothes. "jesus..." his eyes widen, your bare chest on full display for him. he leans down, about to take a nipple to into his mouth when you place a hand on his cheek to stop him. "wh-do you not want me to do that?"

"no, baby, it's not that. it's just-" you take his hand and guide it down to your core, allowing his fingertips to brush past your wetness.

he raises his eyebrows at the feeling, getting your not-so-subtle hint. "oh...i-okay, you're, like, ready, huh?" his voice quivers, a rhetorical question but it's so endearing. "here-uh, lemme get a condom." he leans and extends an arm across you to his bedside table. nervously fumbling with the drawer, he grabs the packet and situates himself back between your legs. in the same position as before, one arm holding himself up and the other putting the packet between his teeth to open, you put a hand on his arm and laugh.

"hamzah, your pants."

"oh, shit, i forgot. hold up," he says, the condom packet still between his teeth as unbuttons his pants and slides them off along his underwear in no time. you can tell by the look on his face, he's getting shy, so you let him do things at the pace he wants. you swear you blink and he's already rolled the condom onto himself, positioning his body inches from where you need him. he looks conflicted, so you cup his face to let him know you're here. "i was already a nervous wreck before, but it just hit me now even more..." he confesses just above a whisper, his cheek feels hot with self-consciousness as you caress it

"do you want some help?" you offer and his eyes soften, visibly grateful that he didn't have to verbally ask you.

"sorry." he apologizes

"no it's okay, baby, here-" you put a hand on top of the one that he holds himself with and move him closer and closer to your entrance. his tip makes contact and you bite your lip, moving him along your arousal to lessen the pain you assume will come based on how sizable he feels. "i'm gonna go slow, okay? it's been a while since i last did this..." you admit, carefully pulling his hand so that his tip only makes it past your folds. his chest starts to rise and fall, his glued to yours and not daring to leave.

"y/n..." he moans, feeling himself finally enter you

the stretch alone has you grabbing for his bicep, mouth open in shock. "fuck" you gasp, trying to adjust to his size.

his eyes scan yours, seeing your discomfort bubbling. "should i stop? am i hurting you, baby?" he starts to panic

"no, i'm okay, just keep going. you can m-move now, if you want." you pant out eagerly and he does as told, pulling back, but not out and thrusting back in nice and slow. he starts to find a rhythm and repeats this at the perfect cadence.

"there you go, you got it-ah" you praise him, which only works him up more, rutting into you now with more haste than ever; he's finally getting comfortable. your nails drag down his broad back, making him whine into your neck, hitting a spot inside you no one's hit before. he knows way more than he thinks. you can feel him start to chase his release, twitching as his sounds start to rise in pitch.

"baby, i think i'm gonna-fuck!" his hips snap and stagger with one final thrust, the coil in his stomach snapping vigorously. his high leaves him trembling above you, barely able to hold up his weight.

"virgin no more" you whisper dramatically, brushing his black curls out of his eyes, a sheer layer of sweat making them stick to his skin a bit.

"b-but you didn't cum... i came in like fucking 3 minutes and you didn't-"

you interrupt him with a kiss, different than the ones you were sharing moments ago. this one held something more than lust or desire.

"i don't care, i'm proud of you." you rest a thumb on his full bottom lip, toying with it. "plus, it was your first time, not your last. you can make it up to me."

so fucking anxious to post this 🥸 yes there will be a pt.2! idk when quite yet bc i'm gonna need a couple days to recover from this

send in hc requests !!! i enjoy writing those a lot and can get them done quicker <333

໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა taglist ; @forevergirlposts , @junebugin-july , @itgirlvirgo (lmk if u wanna be added !!!)

[officialspec]

can you pleeeeease post your dm sexuality/gender hcs on here.... 🥺 i don't have a twitter but i wanna know. it's like a pandora's box to me now i'm like scratching at the door. let me in

heres the link 2 the thread (mild spoilers btw) ill post a transcript under the cut for ppl who dont have twitter

first off i think laios relationship to sex is super removed for like 50 reasons without even getting into his actual sexuality

he grew up in a place with very repressed ideas about sex and has a lot of fear about asserting his presence in situations

his special interest takes precedent over any social interactions he has and the level of closeness he feels towards people

he has a hard time figuring out his feelings towards other people both bc hes autistic and bc he has freaky deviantart fetishes that make sex in his mind a very abstract concept <- this one is me projecting mostly

that aside, i feel like gender-wise hes attracted to ppl so infrequently it may as well be entirely case-by-case

the idea of him being gay appeals to me from the 'raised with traditional values he Does Not fit into/hasnt begun to question it yet' perspective, i lauve characters who put a lot of stock into performing a role thats expected of them and fail miserably for unknown (gay) reasons

from his perspective tho i dont think he would ever really label himself anything. hes going to pride parades in the shirt+shorts Ally Fit to clap for his friends

hes also 'cis by indifference' imo... i love tmasc laios hcs it just doesnt mesh w his personal history to me. i do think hes got some kind of therian gender thing going on (not trans or nb but a secret third thing) but i cant see him changing anything abt his appearance/pronouns to accommodate that post-canon. hes just doin his thang

falin is in a similar boat for gender. i LOOVE tfem falin but the village repression thing has been bugging at me so i dont think i subscribe to it anymore (canon purist sorry) BUT if u hold that hc i am clapping and cheering regardless

instead i was propagandised to a while back and i LOVEEE the idea that being fused w a male dragon and the residual traits she has after being revived have given her a type of gender euphoria she didnt realise she was missing. a little boygirl swagger if u will

sexuality-wise i also dont think she would care to label herself, shes a lesbian by virtue of only being interested in One woman and zero other people. without marcille i do think shes still exclusively attracted to women, and i like to imagine she might experiment around a bit during her travels post-canon (pre-relationship). hearing abt it might put marcille on the news though

marcille is very simple That is a transfem lesbian. she cant get pregnant, shes obsessed w being femme and all that combined w her half-tallman struggles to be seen as 'properly feminine' by elf standards reads very transfeminine to Me. also her bookboy crush REEKS of comphet its not subtle

i think a more comfortable marcy might have the space to experiment w being elf butch like her manga boys but thats mainly self indulgence for me. utena could have saved her

senshi is gay his whole thing is abt not being able to perform dwarven masculinity to a proper standard (soft hearted, not as strong or rugged as his peers) which is like gaycoding 101. also hes a bear. homosexuality be damned by boy can work a grill

adding onto this i rly think senshi got some type of euphoria from being an elf in the changeling chapters. he was feeling himself so much i think he was using it as an outlet to have fun being a little fem and fruity without needing to justify it. do u understand

i dont have any particular opinions abt him gender-wise beyond that. his bulge is an essential part of his character design but i also saw a transmasc senshi a couple days ago that made me nod my head thoughtfully so i could go either way

chilchuck is cis and bisexual this is just canon. not even just his old man crush on senshi altho i do think thats very funny but they put his ass on a cover themed like hes in a dating sim with all the men and women in the cast and then slapped it in front of a chapter called "bicorn". i simply cant pass up that kind of overt signaling. its so fucking funny what else is there to say truly

izu to ME is a transmasc aroace lesbian (this one has the least basis in canon i just know it to be true) shes a little genderfluid with it nd uses he/she i think. i like to imagine she consistently uses masculine personal pronouns to refer to herself either way tho (boku, ore)

i think izutsumis gender/sexuality is entirely secondary in priorities to her body dysphoria. she has a lot of learning and acceptance 2 do before that kind of self discovery is on the docket and in my mind eschewing gender on some level is part of that. get sillay

shuro is cishet but at least he feels bad about it. next listen listen to me i dont think he would ever actually examine this but i need u to put on ur tin foil hat with me for one second. i think estrogen could have saved her. i have more thoughts on this but im not gonna propagandise too much on this post just know that im right

kabru is a transmasc bisexual this is also practically text. his whole thing of being treated like a doll by milsiril to put in pretty dresses, plus i think it would be pretty easy for him to stealth in the west since tallmen are seen as inherently more masculine than elves

(i also think changing genders is just more common for elves. theyre androgynous enough that it wouldnt be hard and like who in their right miiiiind would be the same gender for 500 years. dwarves too)

i think he started presenting as male socially in the west but didnt need to consider medical transition until he moved to a more mixed culture where other races might see him as a woman

i dont have to explain the bisexual part. have u seen him

namari is a butch bisexual this is just canon straight up. shes not transmasc but i think the default settings for dwarven women is like 4 years of T regardless. shes a hit at all the local cruising spots despite her renfaire nerdisms i know this

and just bc im thinking abt em kiki and kaka are identical and kiki is tfem :} theyre both attracted to women but kaka is a sub so i forgive him

THATS ALL 4 NOW theres a lot of characters so i cant have thoughts abt all of them at once but i hope this was good. im right about everything forever as per usual

[ilyhaitanii]

save a horse, ride a cowboy ! ft. boothill

nsfw. you are tasked with the job of investigating a man named boothill who has attracted the attention of the ipc, little did you know, you'd fall for his charms and be caught under his teeth just like those bullets he shot at you a few moments ago

a/n: CLANK CLANK CLANK CLANK YEOOOOOCH!!!!!!!!!!!! i need him so bad it's actually driving me insane. he's all ive been to think about for the past few days

there's no way this is happening right now. you dash down the constracution zone of the city, trying to evade your target. he shoots one bullet at you, barely missing your head. you yelp, your lungs begging for air.

you turn the corner, begging and praying you've finally lost the man. just as you press your back to a wall, an arm slams down beside you

"found ya," he snickers. caught red handed, boothill corners you into an alleyway. he towers over you, the sound of his mechanic limbs slightly squeak, causing you to flinch. his hat covers his eyes, but his sly smirk perfectly teases those razor-sharp teeth of his.

"what do we have here?" boothill leans down, his arms caging you into the corner. under him, you feel so small. his large chest plate covering your entire field of vision. he's so close to you that he can practically feel the anxiety vibrating off your body.

"please don't hurt me! i'm sorry, sir please!!" there's saliva pooling under your tongue as you try your hardest to stammer out an excuse. you're not even an ipc executive-- your just some lowlife who is in debt to them.

"wanna tell me why you're following me all the way out here, dollface? saw you at the entrance of the hotel." his metal thumb making contact with your bitten lower lip. the cold has you trembling under him, fearful for your life. "y'er not that good at tailing," the galaxy ranger chuckles.

"i'm not tailing you, sir. please, i'm sorry," your voice is so low, so timid. you were such a curious little thing when you were tailing him. the contrast has boothill chuckling. he hums, rubbing his thumb across your soft lips.

"we both know that's not the truth, so let's try that again. why's a pretty gem like you tailing a man like me?" his lips curl into a sadistic smile. a shiver crawls up your spine at his expression. there truly is no way of getting out of this, is there?

"i was sent by the ipc...please don't hurt me!" you try your best to squirm in his hold, but boothill's leg between yours keeps your pelvis in place. he lets out a whistle,

"is that so? how sad. what're you look to find?" his thumb does an especially rough drag on your lip, before gently soothing the skin. you wince, eyes screwed shut.

"they want to know why you're here, sir. i'm just an informant, please?" he laughs again before pulling away from you. boothill's fingers are quick to wrap around your wrist as he tugs you along with him.

"mm...well in that case, i'll send you back to the ipc with a little message. how does that sound?" he looks over his shoulder at you, pitying your pathetic expression.

you dumbly nod as the anxiety in your stomach has reached an all time high, sensing this, boothill speaks,

"don't worry, i don't hurt pretty things like you. it'll be quick, yeah?"

he's rough, almost addicting. the pleasure you're receiving from boothill is almost mind numbing. your thighs are thrown around his hips while his cold hands are digging into your hips. he raises your body up his cock before slamming you back down onto him. your jaw is slacked, voice unable to let out a scream.

"poor thing~" he coos, watching the way your brows furrow in ecstasy. he can feel your hips twitching and cunt clenching around him. his head is laid back on the bed with a hand presses against your lower back.

"atta girl, you got it. come on, baby." boothill finds your struggle amusing. you can barely register his voice, not when his thumb is vibrating against your clit and your nipples are so stiff. he leans himself up a bit, swirling the tip of his tongue against your stiffed peaks.

you mangle out a squeal, fingers scratching against boothill armored shoulders. with your head thrown back, you manage to circle your hips around his cock as he bounces you up and down. a series of curses fall from your mouth when boothill bites down on your nipple. the pain mixed with so many different types of stimulation creates pools of tears in your eyes.

"let go, sweetheart." boothill laughs with his pink tongue peaking out from his lips. the knot in your stomach is so overwhelming and your vision is so blurred. the dizzying feeling finally reaches it climax as you clench around boothill for the umpteenth time and gush around his cock. you cum so hard, your body physically jerks, falling flat against him.

as you come down from your high, boothill smoothes his hand over your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"good girl~ make sure to tell your folks about this, alright? and tell 'em i'll be coming to find 'em too," you don't exactly listen to his words, but when you're sipping on a bottle of soda while walking back to your hotel room, you think that boothill may not have been joking...

fuck, there goes your commission check.

© ilyhaitanii - please do not repost, translate, or plagarize any of my content, and do not repost it to any other platforms

[darkcircles4lyfe]

it's a story about hands (reprise)

Yeah, okay, today's the day.

I gave my blog that title for a reason, you know, and it has loomed over me for years because the hand motif is absolutely everywhere and you could go on about it forever.

Maybe that's something I'll never actually attempt to do, but this chapter, we reached a breaking point.

Before I continue, I need to give a big, big disclaimer: I do not have a physical disability, so I'm not able to speak about that from the standpoint of representation as a first-hand perspective. I have at least listened to enough disabled people to know that fictional characters who become amputees only to miraculously gain their limbs back is, um, a trope. Disabled people in general being "healed" is a conception we would really prefer to avoid here. Not to call people out, but I don't think we're giving enough space to acknowledge that.

I don’t feel comfortable making the judgement call about what should happen. I’m leaving that open. I also don't want to downplay people's emotional reactions. Honestly, I don't know if I can accurately define the line between acknowledging real pain vs. ableist pity. But I’d like to talk about the possibilities of what could happen. Other characters have definitely gotten permanent disabilities as a result of their hero work, or even just the side effects of their quirk. But, for better or worse, I don't think this case is really about representation. Not that Horikoshi won't do that justice. He might. What I'm saying is that's not his purpose for having Izuku lose his arms. It's meant to be symbolic, so we can explore what it means. The other thing I’m keeping in mind here is that Horikoshi is notorious for playing with our expectations, like, alllllll the time. I mean, just take a few chapters ago for a classic example. Eri appeared at the end, and we all assumed she was about to take some sort of action to save someone with her quirk. Then, immediately following, we were given an explanation for why that wouldn’t be happening. And now it’s clear he wanted to do that “fake out” not just as a silly cliffhanger prank, but specifically so we would know not to suspect that Eri could be the miraculous solution to Izuku’s loss of his arms. Rest assured, there is no easy way out of this.

The expectation at play in this particular instance is an old one. It’s very understated, but its subtext has burned so brightly, you’d be a fool not to notice it. It sits with anticipation like one half of a call and response. Man, I was so certain. Lots of people still are. I was really looking forward to printing the panel where it happened onto a t shirt and wearing it proudly. All the hand motifs in this story radiate thematically from a single moment, the one that started it all for Izuku.

It raises all kinds of questions about the act of saving, who needs saving, why, what does it mean, what are the dynamics of power, politics, honesty, exploitation, compassion, pity, disdain, sacrifice. Katsuki has dealt with many of these since he first rejected Izuku’s hand. While Izuku was the one who was convinced Katsuki would keep on rejecting him…

…Katsuki was the one who kept that moment in his mind all these years and eventually came to regret it.

Katsuki is the one yearning for that hand-hold, the one who has imbued it with so much more weight than it ever originally had. Izuku, in contrast, does not allow himself to dwell on what he wants. To illustrate this difference, we need to look at another piece of foreshadowing:

Ugh, do y'all remember when lots of folks were complaining about how there never seemed to be actual consequences for Izuku's destructive treatment of his own body? I don't blame them, I was concerned and confused about it too. There were several "fixes" along the way. Recovery Girl healed him, but left a physical reminder. Then he started training to fight with his legs… sometimes. Then he got support items. All of these were unsatisfying non-conclusions because they didn't present Izuku with a lasting enough impression to change in a meaningful way. They didn't address his core, his origin.

Of course, that all changed this chapter. Now it looks like our frustration was inflicted intentionally. With the current context in mind, all of these moments look more sinister, like this day was always gonna come because they kept putting bandaids on a deep emotional and psychological wound. The problem is pretty much spelled out for us here:

As Katsuki put it, he just doesn’t take himself into account, ya know? He doesn’t care what happens to him. And he lies about it, to keep others from worrying, to keep them safe. To keep them from returning the favor and putting themselves in harm’s way for his sake. His motivations are noble,

…but what about the little boy inside Izuku? Who saves him?

This is all about Izuku giving himself up to the point that he literally has no more to give. The thing is, I bet he saw this coming. He knew his limits and decided to keep going anyway, because his personal safety and wellbeing are not important. Now that way of thinking has come back to bite him because the fight isn’t over yet, and he’s already made his sacrifice. So now we know who will be more distraught over this. Not Izuku—Katsuki.

It’s not about Izuku becoming disabled, it’s about how Katsuki wanted to use the intertwining of their fingers to communicate that he would never let go. Never stop valuing him most. Never let himself make the mistake of rejecting him again. Never let Izuku be so reckless with his life. To say: “we are in this together.”…if only Katsuki believed he deserved to be able to say such things. To reach out his hand would have been the ultimate way to simply imply them and let Izuku be the one to decide. Then, to feel their hands clasped together would be more than either of them dared hope for, but so beautiful, so right. A moment they’ve waited their whole lives for.

Yeah. That’s what we were expecting. We’ve been so comfortable. Horikoshi gave us all the signs. He tempted and teased us over and over. BUT. You know he does this thing were he gives us a desirable, completely plausible and simple thing to look forward to, and then he snatches it away. And THEN he replaces it with something much better, something we were not expecting at all because it seemed too good to be true. That’s exactly what happened when Himiko snatched Izuku away, and we were robbed of the chance to see him and Katsuki fight together. In hindsight, though, I’m glad things went a different way because now there’s so much more depth and angst on display. Likewise, in the present moment, we may consider how, as one door closes, another opens.

As wonderfully meaningful as the hand-hold would have been, perhaps it is still too simple a resolution for Izuku, for his and Katsuki’s relationship. Tbh, it could have been done like 100 chapter ago. At this point, there’s so much more potential. There are a couple of ways it could go. If Izuku stays armless, Katsuki will be forced to use other methods to get his point across. He’ll have to do something else, or say what he means, or both. Yes, I’m talking about what you think I’m talking about. If I say it, I just might jinx it (lol), but I mean it. I’m being serious. Either way, if Izuku did get his arms back in the end, I’m sure that it wouldn’t be an easy fix. It would be hard-won against Izuku’s self-destructive mindset, and/or by Katsuki’s conviction. Again, I say this knowing it is not meant so much as a representation of disability, but as a representation of Izuku’s greatest character flaw taken to the extreme. I know this might sound harsh, like, hasn’t he been through enough? I get that, but… I’ve said it before and I say it again: Izuku is stubborn as hell.

I wish I had a resounding final note to end this on, but I kinda don’t. I’m not sure what’s best. Now we just have to wait and see what Horikoshi has in mind.

[papercorgiworld]

Can i request a Mattheo Theo and(or, how many u feel like writing) enzo with an older gf maybe like a girl who'd walk em like a dog and in a second they're like "Yes maam whatever you say🧎‍♂️" byw love ur writing I'm obsessed with ur works!!

I kinda wasn't taking request, but I suck at saying no and I just kinda felt like writing this. This is just short and quick, but it was a really fun idea. I gave it a bit more of a specific context, I hope you don't mind. Thank you so much for sending this my way. I hope you like it, bc I really loved your idea. I wrote this in like an hour or so, let me know if you spot any errors. Also currently 2k+ words into a very fluffy muffin coded Mattheo piece. So this is more like a suggestive snack. Enjoy my dears!

Warning: suggestive

I added a part two.

Whipped for their tutor

Mattheo

Mattheo had been skipping too many classes and his latest test had reduced Mcgonagall to tears, so it was tutoring sessions or no quidditch for the rest of the year. So here he was waiting outside of the transfiguration's classroom as the professor informed his tutor on all the material he needed to catch up with. The list was really long and Mattheo was starting to get embarrassed. Especially when he heard the professor refer to his latest test. He really wasn't stupid, he just neglected his studies for a bite too long.

He heard chairs shuffle and moved away from the door. The door opened and Mattheo's mouth almost fell open. You've got to be kidding me. (y/n). Fuck. Everyone at Hogwarts had a crush on you and in Mattheo's case it wasn't just an innocent crush. No, the thoughts he had about you were far from innocent. Professor Mcgonagall's voice pulled Mattheo out of his trance. "Mister Riddle, this is miss (y/l/n), she'll try to save your grade."

You smiled at Mattheo as he nodded at the professor's words. He was cute you couldn't deny that, but seriously the staring was obvious. When the professor left you two alone Mattheo chuckled nervously making you roll your eyes. Wasn't Mattheo Riddle supposed to be a big bad boy? You turn on your heels. "Follow me, I reserved us a classroom." Your voice is sweet and Mattheo feels himself heat up to an unhealthy degree. Yes, mommy. He stares at your ass for a second and then quickly walks after you.

"Mattheo Riddle." Mattheo introducing himself when he catches up with you and you smirk, before licking your bottom lip. "Oh, I know who you are." Mattheo smirks, feeling confident a his reputation. "I've also seen your grades." Mattheo's smug smile drops and he falls silent for a moment. You open the door to an empty classroom and enter, walking over to a table to lay your books on. "I'm actually not stupid." Mattheo finally manages to say and you look up as you organize your books. When you don't say anything he walks closer. "I just didn't work hard enough." He explains and you sit down. "Well, I guess I'm just here to make sure you work for it this time." You tilt your head and watch him almost drool.

"Sit." Mattheo nods and complies. Nothing left of this bad boy. He reaches for his books. "You should start with summarizing chapters 3 to 6." Mattheo huffs. "I never make summaries, I'll just read it over." You lean a little closer and rest a hand on his thigh, making him almost gulp at you touch. "Matty, be a good boy and summarize chapter 3 to 6 for me." Your lips near his ear have his dick twitch in his pants and if your hand would move even an inch you would feel it. Mattheo can't remember the last time he's blushed, but right now his face is reddening as he stares at his book. Slowly he moves his eyes, first to your half opened blouse and then to your perfect lips. "Yes, ma'am." Is all the notorious Mattheo Riddle can say before he opens his books and starts doing the work.

Theodore

He was late and hearing from the laughter in the hallway, he wasn't in a hurry. "That Gryffindor goat just failed me bc she hates Slytherins." You roll your eyes at Theodore's arrogant voice echoing through the hallway, approaching the classroom you were supposed to meet at half an hour ago. "Can't believe you're stuck with a tutor, mate." Mattheo chuckled and you focus on Theodore's test in your hands. "I know, I probably can teach them more than they can teach me." Theo laughs as he opens the door and you tilt your head with a cheeky smile on your lips. "I doubt that." Is all you say and Theodore stares up and down your figure as you sat so elegantly and perfectly. Mattheo stands behind his friend mouth hanging.

"I might need some tutoring as well." Mattheo says his voice squeaky, making him look down in embarrassment. "No doubt, but this session is reserved for Theodore. I can call you Theodore, right?" There's a teasing tone to your voice but both boys are too enchanted by you to notice. "Anything." Theodore breathes as he takes a few steps towards the table you were sitting at. "Mattheo." You say looking past Theo. "You can close the door." Mattheo smiles bright as you say his name and does as you say, only once outside he realizes how foolish he must've looked.

Theodore was now alone left at your mercy. "Are you just gonna stand there?" Theo shakes his head and smiles like a love struck puppy. You were the hottest and most unreachable girl at Hogwarts and now he got to sit next to you, smell your perfume and take in your perfect features from up close. "I don't actually need tutoring." Theo said with a half smirk on his lips, faking confidence. "Your latest test says otherwise." You move the piece of parchment over the table towards the Slytherin, who's immediately flustered. He really doesn't need his dream girl thinking he's stupid. "I say we start by correcting the mistakes you made and filling in the blanks you left." Theodore chuckles, he really didn't want you of all people to tutor him like he was a little boy. He needed to you see him as a man for far from innocent reasons. "I don't think that's necessary." Theodore protests.

You scoot a little closer to him and lay your hand on his thigh, gently moving between his legs. An unsteady breath leaves his parted lips. You owned him and you both knew it. "Don't be like that Theo, just do the work... for me." Another breath leaves his lips and he reaches for his quill, like a good boy. Cute and whipped, exactly how I like them.

Enzo

It wasn't even his fault. Mattheo and Theodore had gotten him high and he had written the word 'soup' as an answer to every question. Now he had to skip quidditch training to go hang with this tutor. With his hands in his pockets he entered the library, scanning the room for his appointed tutor. That's when he saw you. Gods, you were a view. He smiled, immediately getting flustered, you were out of his league and he knew it, but damn you were fine to look at.

"Lorenzo, right?" She's talking to me. Oh by Salazar, it's happening! Say something! "Lorenzo?" You snap your fingers in front him and his smile turns goofy. "Sorry. I was fantasizing- I mean dreaming- thinking." You press your lips into a line you were used to guys getting a little nervous around you, but this guy couldn't even hide it and that just made him adorable af. "I'm your tutor." You don't bother introducing yourself, since you had caught him staring at you enough times for him to know your name and sizes. "Tutor?" The Slytherin seemed to panic at the idea, but you chose to ignore it leaving him with some of his dignity.

"Come on. I was just planning on getting your books." Enzo nods and watches you walk, making you turn after a few seconds and raising your eyebrows. "Come on, Enzo." He sighs at the way you say his name, like you did it better than any other girl. He hurries and follows your every step carrying every book that you summon. Suddenly you turn on your heels and Enzo almost bumps into you, smiling at you as his eyes rest to your soft lips. Probably fantasizing. "Let's start studying, shall well." You announce and despite the discouraging pile of books Enzo quickly nods. "Yes, ma'am." You chuckle. Whipped. With him still trailing behind you a dirty thought sets root, maybe a younger and utterly whipped guy like Lorenzo Berkshire might make a good sugar baby.

[promise-you-doie]

Best Friend Ever | S. Eunseok

Eunseok x (f) Reader | Fake dating to lovers

Word count: 20k

Warnings: Cursing, suggestive

Genre: Fluff, Suggestive

playlist

A college student rejecting attention is taken aback when a famous athlete asks them out. Confused and suspicious, they confront their past experiences and insecurities as they navigate a newfound curiosity about the athlete's intentions. The story explores personal growth, unexpected connections, and the courage to leave one's comfort zone.

The college classroom buzzed with the low murmur of students chatting and the occasional squeak of chairs being pulled out. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. In the middle of it all sat You, Your eyes drifting lazily around the room as you waited for class to end, your mind already elsewhere, disinterested in the present. 

A sigh, heavy with restlessness, escapes your lips as you rest your chin in the palm of your hand. Your other hand is used to tap the head of your pen against your laptop, a rhythmic echo of your impatience. You try to divert your eyes from reading the time, but you can't help but glance at it here and there, each glance a testament to your mounting anticipation. 

You startle when a small note lands on your desk, seemingly out of nowhere. Intrigued, you open it, ignoring the sensation of someone's gaze on the back of your head. 

The note simply reads "Hey," followed by a smiley face, but you know exactly who it's from. 

You whip your head around to face your best friend three rows behind you. Sohee's wearing a wide grin on his face when he waves at you. But you only glare in return, a mix of annoyance and amusement in your eyes, before turning back around to face your boredom. Once again just waiting for- 

"That's all for today. Class is dismissed." Your professor's voice echoes through the room, and you can almost feel the collective sigh of relief. It's all you need to slam your laptop shut and jump out of your seat, joining the rush of students eager to leave. 

Sohee is already standing at the door waiting for you, mainly because he saved a lot of time by not having to pack up. You always thought he only attended lectures to distract you, but he would always argue differently. 

As soon as you meet him by the door, he throws his arm around you and pulls you along with him, guiding you out of the classroom before the rest of the students come trampling over you. 

"I'm starving," Sohee mumbles, his voice barely audible over the bustling noise of the hallway, a cacophony of footsteps, chatter, and the occasional laughter. He winces when you push him away from you. 

"People already think we're dating," you say, your eyes scanning the passing students, each of them engrossed in their own world.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"That's because it is. I don't like people getting the wrong idea," you say, your voice tinged with a hint of unease. 

"I know what it is?" Sohee taunts, his finger jabbing the air. "You're afraid you'll fall for me if I stand too close." 

You roll your eyes, trying to dismiss the thought. "I can guarantee you that's not the case." Sohee hums in disagreement and continues walking ahead of you until you have to follow up with him. 

This was the nature of your relationship. Sohee often liked to hint that maybe you were into him as more than just friends, and you'd be there to shoot it down every time. 

It was annoying sometimes, but Sohee was like a brother to you. You expected him to be annoying. 

"What should we eat? Burgers? Pasta? Pizza?" Your best friend begins to list off. He waved his finger around in the air as if he were actually flipping through the options. 

"We should go for-" "Y/n." A somewhat familiar voice stops you mid-sentence. 

You didn't have to turn around to know that Eunseok was calling for you. You were only confused as to why. After all, you and Eunseok existed in starkly different worlds. 

He was the star of the school. D-1 athlete, attending on a full scholarship. It's impossible to live in the same city as him and not know who he was. The same didn't apply to you.

No one knew who you were. Not because you were super shy and avoided attention, but because you just preferred to hang out with your two friends, Sohee and Ningning, and binge on card games and pizza on Friday nights, a quiet and content life that you cherished. 

So why would Song Eunseok, a well-known college basketball player, be calling out for you?

"Hey," He says when he finally meets up with you, his voice a mix of nervousness and determination.  

"Hello?" You say, confused. Sohee, obviously just as puzzled as you are, bunches his eyebrows together and sticks his lips out into a subtle pout. 

"Will you go on a date with me?" Eunseok's unexpected question hangs in the air, shrouding the scene in a thick layer of suspense. 

Things were just getting weirder and weirder. Him picking you out in a crowd of people was odd enough, but now he was asking you out on a date. 

There's only one logical explanation for this. 

He was pranking you. You had your fair share of brutal jokes, especially among ruthless high school boys who always made it clear that no one would ever seriously be into you. 

You thought things like that only happened in grade school, but old habits do die hard. 

You snark. "No, thank you." The words come out harsher than you intended, a clear sign of your internal conflict. You attempt to walk away, assuming he'll accept the rejection and leave you alone. You should've known better. 

"Please," he pleads, halting you in your tracks. You pivot and stride back toward him.

"I'm not falling for any of your tricks." 

"One date." He holds each of his hands up in the air. "No tricks, I promise." The look on his face tells you that he's being genuine. Yet, you still look to your best friend for an answer. 

Except he only shrugs. You don't know what you were expecting from him anyway. He was never helpful before, and he won't be beneficial now. 

"When?" You ask, turning back to Eunseok. 

"Are you busy right now?" He shoots. 

"Umm..." 

Eunseok pulls out the chair so you can sit down first. You accept his offer and place your bag on the floor beside you. You notice how empty the lunchroom is. 

"If you wanna get into my pants, you're gonna have to do a lot better than this." You comment, your voice echoing in the empty school cafeteria. 

"I'm not trying to get in your pants." Eunseok's voice cuts through the silence, and his glare makes you feel small and insignificant. You shift in your seat at the sudden discomfort. 

"Well then... What do you want?" You hesitated, trying to read his true intentions. 

"I need you to be my girlfriend," he replied casually as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

 "You need me to?" Leaning in closer, you were intrigued, eager to understand his unconventional request.

"My family is starting to think I'm gay." He admits, and it makes you jump back. Who would've thought that star athlete Song Eunseok was battling with his sexuality? 

"I'm not," he says with a knowing look as if he could hear every thought racing through your mind.

 "Huh?" You blink in astonishment, your eyes widening, and shift in your chair, the leather creaking beneath you as you settle back in.

"Look, I just need you to meet my family here and there. Nothing serious."  

"Are you asking me to fake a relationship with you?"

"Yes, exactly." He nods with a severe expression, showing no sign of amusement. It was as if he had done this before.

"I'm not interested," you declare firmly, rising from your seat and gathering your belongings. 

Eunseok's voice quivers with desperation as he says, "I'll pay you," attempting to entice you to stay.

You express your disdain by poking your tongue through your cheek. The sound of your bag dropping to the floor fills the room as you turn to face him. "Money doesn't sway me. You can't just dangle it over my head and expect me to jump when you tell me to," you assert, pressing your palms onto the table.

To your surprise, Eunseok smirks. "You're a smart, independent woman," he says, and you nod. 

"I am." 

"I admire that about you." He stands up so that now you have to look up at him. "Which is why I chose you of all people."

"That's flattering. How much are you paying."

"Wait, you're dating him?" Sohee exclaims, yanking his head out of your empty fridge.

You nod, "Yeah." Your lips pressed together, a silent testament to the weight of the secret you were carrying. It wasn't easy to lie to your best friend, but you knew you had to. He had a terrible habit of just talking, talking to any and everyone about any and everything. One time, in fifth grade, you told him about a crush you had on some guy in your class. You don't remember how word got around to the entire school, but you remember that the tracks led right back to your loose-lipped best friend. The potential consequences of this secret being revealed were too significant to risk. 

"So he asked, and you just said 'yes'? No questions asked?" Sohee asks, his voice filled with disbelief. 

"Pretty much." You shrug. 

Sohee ponders, his body plopping down on the couch in front of you. You could always tell when he was thinking because his bottom lip would poke out, and he scratched the back of his head. It was rather cute, but you'd never admit that aloud. "This doesn't make any sense." He finally mutters through a pout, his brows furrowing in confusion. 

"What's not making sense?" You ask calmly, crossing your arms and leaning back against the sofa. 

"Did he cast a spell on you or something?" He sits up. "You hate ball players." 

"I do." You nod. "but he's different." You don't have to convince yourself you knew Eunseok very differently from the other sports players you were previously acquainted with. For starters, none of them would ever consider you to be their girlfriend, real or not. 

"How would you know that after just one date?" Sohee almost shouts. 

"Look, will you just trust me? I know what I'm doing." You said, your voice filled with a determination that Sohee had rarely heard before. He takes a deep breath and throws his head back against your small orange sofa. All the thinking was draining him. 

"Do you trust me?" 

"I guess I have no choice." Your best friend reassures you. Tiredly, rubbing his hands against his face. 

"Good," you exclaimed with a smile, jumping up from your seat to stand in front of him with your hand held out. "Now, let's go get some food. I know you're hungry."

"You're not gonna start ditching me to hang out with your new boyfriend, right?" Sohee sits across from you in the diner that you frequented too often. Usually, you'd visit with Ningning, but she was pretty busy these days. 

"He'll never get in between us." 

"Promise?" He asks, peering up through his eyelashes. 

You never made promises unless you knew for a fact you could keep them, which is why you wrapped your pinky finger around your best friends without a shadow of hesitation. You were certain you would never break this promise.

"It's so strange now that you have a boyfriend." Sohee breaths just as your phone begins to vibrate.

Eunseok: Hey, I need you.

You: First off, that sounds weird. And secondly, I can't. I'm busy

Eunseok: You need to be busy with me.

You: why are you so weird?

"I'm gonna ask for refills," Sohee announces, his voice cutting through the buzz of conversation in the air and causing you to pull your eyes away, momentarily captivated. "Alright," you reply with a smile, and as Sohee walks off, you feel the familiar buzz of your phone vibrating in your pocket, drawing your attention once again.

Eunseok: My family wants to meet you.

You: Hard pass; I'm hanging out with my best friend. Maybe next time :)

Eunseok: $100

You: I can't just leave him.

Eunseok: $250.

You: Deal.

Eunseok: Perfect, I'll meet you at your place.

"Are you leaving?" Sohee asks, his disappointment palpable in his voice."Sorry, Hee. I'll make it up to you, I promise." You rush, reaching into your wallet to leave a twenty-dollar bill on the table. While Sohee plops down in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape. 

"What are you wearing?" Eunseok asks, leaning against his sleek silver 2021 Jeep Wrangler. 

"I tried to be normal," you frown, looking down at your chosen outfit.

"Normal looks weird on you," he advises. "Go change."

"But your parents-" "Will like you, no matter what. Just be yourself," he cuts you off and grabs your shoulder to turn you back towards your apartment complex.

“And be fast.” He says last. 

You ask, "How is this?" while standing in front of him, extending your arms so that he can take in your entire outfit. "Much better," he nods in approval and courteously opens the car door for you to get in. His car is immaculately clean and impressively modern. Nothing like you’d see any other college student drive, athlete or not. Maybe Eunseok was an exception because he wasn’t just any athlete but one of the best. 

You can’t say you cared enough to know. You were more worried about other things. 

“You don’t have any exes I need to know about, right?” You ask, “You know… anyone who still has unresolved feelings and isn’t really good at talking things out.” 

“No one is going to show up at your door,” Eunseok reassures, his eyes focused on the road ahead, offering you a sense of security. 

“And do you have STDs or anything?” 

‘Why is that important?” He breaks his concentration to look at you.

“You’re right.” You nod, twirling your fingers and looking around until you see something outside of the window that catches your attention. 

“Any other questions?” He asks through his smirk, one that you were already beginning to hate. 

“Why me?” Eunseok opens his mouth to begin to speak, but you stop him before he can, “And don’t try that fake feminist bullshit on me. I know how you men are.” You add. 

To which he lets out a small laugh, “You were the first person to come to mind because I knew I’d never fall for you, so I don’t have to worry about things getting complicated.” 

It sounded harsh, but you were used to it. No guys ever looked in your direction. The ones that did only wanted one thing, and it wasn’t a cool, loving, caring girlfriend. The problem wasn’t that you were ugly. You were just too different. The way you talked, the things you liked, the way you dressed. You were far too strange for anyone to love you. Well, except for Sohee, of course, but that was only because he was a little strange himself. 

“Likewise.” You hum and continue gazing out of the window. 

When Eunseok reaches the driveway of his family home, he parks and turns almost his whole body around to face you. “Okay, first, I need your phone,” he demands with his hand out. 

You ask, “What do you need my phone for?” Yet you still hold your phone in the palm of his hand and patiently wait for him to reveal his plan. 

“Here you go.” He passes your phone back with his contact on display. 

“My everything?” You read aloud, your eyebrows instinctively furrowing. You thought that was the worst of it, but when your phone closes, you catch a glimpse of his face on your lock screen. “No offense, but I don’t wanna see your face every time I open my phone.” 

“You can change it back later.” He says unamused. 

“Okay but who’s gonna believe that we're so in love after two days?” You ask, folding your arms. 

“That reminds me, if they ask, we've been dating for three months.” 

“Don’t you think they’ll find it strange that we’ve been dating for three months, and you haven’t mentioned having a girlfriend?” You question. 

“Will you just trust me on this?” He asks, reminding you of when you asked Sohee the same question. You give him a half nod and breathe, “You’re the one paying me, so I guess I have to.” 

Eunseok’s little brother greets him as soon as he gets out of his truck. Wrapping his small arms around Eunseok’s legs. “Hey, critter, where’s mom?”

The little boy you assume is around six years old, seeing as you could hear his lisp when he says, “She’s in the kitchen talking to dad. I don’t think they know you’re here yet.” And suddenly, the kid turns to you. His smile, no longer evident, was replaced with a look of concern. You mirror his expression as the boy asks, “Who’s this?”

“This is my girlfriend.” Eunseok introduces you, moving to rest his arm around your waist. Your initial instinct is to push him off of you and slap him, but you do your best to try and muster up a smile instead. The only problem is that you don’t know how to fake a smile, and you think you might’ve scared the boy while trying to.

“You couldn’t just say hi to my little brother?” Eunseok scolds you the second the small boy disappears into the house. 

“Kids make me nervous.” You defend yourself as you pull his arm off of you. “This is gonna be an extra ten bucks, by the way.” You add, referring to his hand placements. 

“Maybe I should’ve gone with someone else.” 

“It’s not too late!” Your suggestion falls on deaf ears when he grabs your hand and guides you into his family home. Which you didn’t realize was so big until you got inside. Everything looked so expensive. “Woah, I didn’t know you were-”

“You’re here early. I haven’t even started prepping yet.” Eunseok's mother unintentionally cuts you off to welcome him into a hug. “And I’m assuming this is your girlfriend.” She adds, looking at you. 

“Yeah, this is Y/n,” Eunseok speaks for you. 

“Aren’t you just the prettiest thing.” You were never good with compliments, mainly because you weren’t used to getting them. So, while you should’ve smiled and replied with a humble “thank you.” You say, “I know.” Instead. 

Eunseok's head swiftly turns in your direction, and his mom's smile drops. "I mean, Eunseok tells me that all the time. It's become a habit of his." Nice save, you think to yourself, noticing how Eunseok's shoulders relax. 

"You're a very lucky girl. You know there's no one like my son." 

"You're right; never in my life have I met anyone like Eunseok." You grin, knowing that you don't mean it the same way she does. 

"I'd say I'm the lucky one. Y/n's top of her class and she just started her internship for a space program. Plus, she's funny and gorgeous, and she supports me. Not to mention, I've also never met anyone like her." Eunseok wraps his arm around you to pull you closer to him. 

Strangely enough, you didn't feel the need to rip his arm off and punch him in the face like you wanted to the last time. Instead, you're more impressed that he even knew about your internship and thought you were funny. Although you were sure, he was just saying that to feed that facade you two had going on. 

"I would just say we make a good match." You add. 

As the older woman beams and compliments the both of you on how good you look together, you exhale in relief. But when Eunseok's father strides into the room, his gaze sweeping over you from head to toe, you realize his mom was just a warm-up act.

"You into fashion?" The older man's voice is so deep it echoes through your eardrums. Your knees buckled, and if it weren't for the hand that Eunseok kept firm around your waist, you would've run out of the door screaming. 

"Uh, um, yeah. Well, no, actually. I mean, it's… cool… sometimes."  You stumble over your words. Your heart races the more he looks at you; you feel like he knows everything. He knows you're lying to him; he knows you're accepting payment from his son to keep up this act, and he probably knows about that pen you stole from Sohee last week. 

“I like it, it’s different.” His father says, referring to your outfit. “Good choice, you better treat her right.” He turns to the tall, younger male beside you. 

“I intend to,” Eunseok responds. 

“Why don’t you give her a tour of the house? I’ll call you down when dinner is ready.” His dad suggests and leaves you and Eunseok alone for a moment. 

Rather than allowing Eunseok to guide you, you grab his wrist and pull him up the stairs to the first room you find, which, luckily for you, happens to be his room. You rush to lock the door and stomp back towards him. Your voice still shaky from the interaction with his father, you say, “I don’t wanna do this anymore.” 

“What you have to.” Eunseok pleads. 

“No, tell them I died in a tragic accident and that you can’t ever move on from me. That'll solve both of our problems.” You argue. 

“It’s not that bad.” He says incredulously, holding his arms over his chest. 

“It's not bad. It’s horrible.” 

“My parents like you already, I can tell.” Eunseok pleads, attempting to convince you. 

“That’s worse, you idiot.” You catch yourself from yelling too loud. “I’d rather they hate me so they won’t wanna see me again.” 

Both of you take a break from arguing to respond to his mom when she asks. “How are you guys doing up there.” 

“We’re fine.” You say in unison as you stare at him with the look of death. 

“I can see why it’s so hard for you to get a girlfriend.” You insult. “After today, we’re done.”

“What? Are you breaking up with me?”

“I am.” You assure him as you walk away. Opening the door to find his brother on the opposite side. You pause for a moment, unsure of what to say or do. He blinks at you and you awkwardly coo, “Hey, little boy.”

“Are you really dating my brother?” The kid inquires, staring up at you with a puzzled expression.

“Umm, yeah.” You wanna roll your eyes. You couldn’t believe you were still going with this bit after arguing that you were done.

“That makes me happy because you’re really pretty. Do you wanna see my room?”

“Sure, why not.” You think aloud.

“Yay! Come on, it's this way.” The child cheers, tugging on your wrist to lead you to his room. 

If possible, your body entered a whole other dimension. The model solar system scattered around the ceiling was the first thing that caught your attention. The life-sized astronaut standing in the corner of the room made your heart leap out of your chest. Hands down this was the coolest room you had ever seen in your life. 

“What the fu-“ You stammer, catching yourself before you can finish your sentence. 

“Don’t worry.” The boy sings, “I won’t tell anyone.” 

Your joy came to a harsh halt, when Mr Song announced that dinner was ready. The small boy remained by your side while you glared at his older brother. You roll your eyes when Eunseok pulls a chair out for you and gestures for you to take a seat. 

You accept the seat reluctantly, but refuse to thank him. The room is quiet, exactly how you prefer to keep it. 

"How long have you been dating Eunseok?" His father abruptly interjects, shattering the fragile silence you had painstakingly maintained. 

"Um." You gulp, your voice betraying the effort to conceal your discomfort, "Like three months… an- and a half?" 

"Three months?" Mr Song repeats, turning to Eunseok. For a small moment all of the attention is off of you, which allows you to release the breath you've been holding for over five minutes. "How come we're just now finding out about her?" 

The question makes you tap Eunseok's leg because you already warned him about this. "Just trust me." He said, but now he's stuttering and tripping over his words. "I- well, she-" 

"It's my fault." You interrupt, "I wanted to make sure we were compatible before I just sprung myself on his family." 

"Let me just say we are absolutely delighted to finally meet you. You are such a charming young lady," his mom gushes. "Did you know you're the first girl he's ever introduced to us?" 

“Really?” You ask, unsurprised. "You know, it's actually really funny that you say that because sometimes I find myself questioning if he's-" and as you're about to finish the sentence, a sharp pain shoots through your abdomen. To his parents, he was just being affectionate, innocently wrapping his arm around you to demonstrate his love for your personal space. None of them would've guessed what was honestly going on.

"What were you saying, honey?" Mrs. Song smiles, anticipating ‌ hearing the rest of your thoughts. 

"Sometimes I wonder if he’s even real." You force a grin, your words laced with a hint of bitterness that you hope goes unnoticed.

“It was lovely having you.” Mrs. Song beams happily, standing by the doorway of their family home. 

You reply, “It was nice being here.” While subtly removing Eunseok's arm from around your waist, or at least trying to. But his hold just got tighter with each attempt you made to push him off.

“I don’t want you to go.” The small boy pouts in front of you. 

“Don’t worry, she’ll be back,” Eunseok responds to the boy for you.

“Promise?” The little boy looks up at you with glossy eyes and one of the sweetest smiles you’ve ever seen in your entire life. How could you say no to such a sweet face?

“I promise.” You reassure looking everywhere but the boy in front of you. 

“I can’t wait to see you again.” His mother claps. “Drive safe.” She cheers as Eunseok guides you to his car. You wait until the front door is shut, and no one can hear you before you push him away from you and hold your hand up as if you’re about to slap him.

“I should kill you.”  You growl. 

"At least let me drive you home first.” He suggests holding his truck door open for you. You wanna slap him, choke him, kick him in his knees, and make him beg for mercy. But you roll your eyes instead and take your spot in his passenger seat. 

“Your family is kinda cool, even though your dad scares the shit out of me.” You mutter, staring out the window at the passing cars on the road. 

“You know you’re welcome anytime.” 

“I think it’s best we keep this professional. I don’t want you to ease up on payments because you think we’re friends.” 

“That’s fair.” Eunseok nods. 

“You and I could never be friends. We’re too different.” You add, resting your head against the back of your seat. 

“I’m starving.” Sohee whines, throwing his head against the back of your couch. 

You laugh, “you always are.” Squishing his cheeks together. 

“This isn’t funny Y/n. I could die if I don’t eat something in the next 2 seconds.” 

“You’re not going to die. I ordered pizza 20 minutes ago; it should be here any minute.” As if on cue, there’s a knock at your door, and before you can say or do anything, Sohee is shooting up to retrieve it. 

“Oh, it’s you…” Sohee squints at the tall ball player in front of him as soon as he opens the door.

“Who is it?” You ask, jumping up from your couch to stand next to Sohee. “Oh… Eunseok. What- umm. What are you doing here?” 

“My mom saw how much you liked the food yesterday, so she asked me to bring you some leftovers.’ Euseok pushes the bag full of containers in your direction. 

“Did she really? Are the green beans in here too?” You ask, snatching the bag from his hand. 

“Yeah, I think she packed everything.” Eunseok scratches the back of his neck.

“I feel like I just abducted and woke up on Venus.” You squeal, rushing towards your table to dig through the bag.

“Huh?” 

“She’s thankful,” Sohee explains for you. 

“Well, tell your mom I said thank you. Bye, love you.” You rush, pushing him out of the way and slamming the door in his face. 

When you turn back on your heels you’re surprised to see Sohee staring at you with an equally surprised expression on his face. “Are you guys saying that already?” Sohee asks 

“Well, we’re moving kinda Fast because… You know… We just never know when we’re gonna … die.” You laugh awkwardly.

“You know you’re really unpredictable,” Sohee continues to stare.

“What do you mean?” You plop down at your table, half waiting for his explanation but mostly interested in the food in front of you.

“You guys have nothing in common. He’s well known and attractive, but you never cared about that kind of stuff.” Your best friend watches as you unpack the leftovers your “boyfriend” just bought you. ‘You say you love him, but can you name just one thing you like about him?” 

If you were in a serious relationship you might’ve cared about what it was that Sohee had to say, but nothing about this was real. So you couldn’t care. You couldn’t care even if you tried. 

“I like him because his mom knows how to cook.” You answer with your mouth full.

"What did you guys think about that movie I told you to watch?" Ningning asks, walking between you and Sohee. The hallways are full of students and teachers as the three of you walk through the somewhat heavy crowd. 

"I didn't watch it." Sohee shrugs while eating the burrito he begged you to buy because he was "so hungry, he could pass out."

You answer, "It was horrible," ready to give a detailed description of why you hated it and everything that was wrong with it.

"Wasn't it," Ningning replies. 

"I can't believe I let you talk me into watching it." You gasp.

"I had to make sure it wasn't just me." She says, but you don't fully process it because you feel the ghost of someone's hand about to grab yours. On instinct, you attack; what else were you supposed to do? Unfortunately, right after you turn around to punch the stranger in the face, you freeze. The stranger isn't a stranger but your (fake) boyfriend, standing there with a shocked expression and blood dripping from his lip.

"Oh my god." You shriek, "I didn't mean to -"

"It's okay; don't worry about it," Eunseok mutters, but the growing puddle of crimson red liquid tells you that it definitely isn't okay.

"You're bleeding!" You acknowledge reaching for his bottom lip. 

"It's fine, I'll be fine. Let me just take you to class." 

"Well, let me clean you up." You continue, staring at his busted bloody lip. 

"It doesn't even hurt." He cheers, shaking his head. 

"I won't be long; I have my first aid kit right here." 

“You carry around a first aid kit?” He questions, his eyebrows raising in surprise, as you push him into a random empty classroom. “Do you just punch people often?”

“It was an accident.” You answer, your voice softening, as you rip a sanitary wipe open and tap it against his lip. “Why would you even be grabbing my hand in public anyway?” You ask, while continuing to repair his busted lip. 

“You’re my girlfriend; I’m supposed to treat you as such.” He mumbles.

"Fake girlfriend." You respond, your voice tinged with a hint of bitterness, as you sit up with a tube of ointment on display. "Apply this again before you go to sleep tonight, and it should be healed in no time. And don't lick your lips. This stuff tastes disgusting."  

"I don't imagine it would taste like strawberries." He remarks. 

You back away from him with your hands on your hips. "Whatever, you still didn't answer. Why were you sneaking up on me?"  He doesn't say anything for a short few moments, and you can tell that he's thinking about how to say what he's going to say. 

"So my dad is good friends with my coach, and word got around." He mumbles the last part, but it’s intentional this time.

"Word got around?" Your eyes widen at the thought, "So I'm stuck with you?" You ask, raising your hand to push your hair out of your face, and rolling your eyes when you see Eunseok flinch at your sudden movements. 

'You say that like it's a bad thing." 

"It's certainly not a good thing." You shout again. Which only makes Eunseok lean away from you, arms shielding his face. 

"Relax, I'm not gonna hit you." You breathe, "Although I should." 

"Are you mad?" Eunseok says after a long silence. 

You respond sarcastically, "No, of course not." You tilt your head to stare at the basketball player in front of you, wondering how you managed to get yourself into this situation. "In fact I couldn't be happier." 

"Since when were you and Eunseok a thing?" Ningning asks, emphasizing Eunseok's name. 

Ever since the interaction between you and him in the hallway, all you heard was his name. 

"A month," Sohee answers on your behalf,

"You knew?" Ningning whips her head around to the boy. "How come I'm just finding out about this?" 

"I tried to keep it as private as possible." You answer. 

"What, so you told Mr. Blabber mouth over here?" Ningning’s accusatory finger points at Sohee, who's innocently munching on his sandwich. "You know, you guys really make me feel left out." 

"That's what happens when you choose other people over us?" You shrug. 

"It would still be nice to know about what's going on in my best friend's life." Ningning debates.  "And what about you? Are you datin—never mind?" Ningning stops herself. Both of you know ‌that Sohee was never private about anything. The entire planet would know if he got a girlfriend. Considering he couldn't keep a secret even if his life was at stake.

"How did you even start dating? You two are so… different." The girl rests her chin in her open palm. 

"That's what I said! What could you possibly like about him? He's just some dumb ball player."  Sohee adds. 

“Dumb ball player? You might have a crush on Y/n, but that does not give you the right to down-talk the Song Eunseok.” Ningning jumps up, swinging her finger around.

All you can do is facepalm. This is why you never tell them anything; it always causes an argument. Too immersed in your friends in front of you, you don’t notice when Eusneok appears next to you until he says, “Do you mind if I sit here.” 

“Don’t you wanna sit with your other friends?” You look around the area for all the possible seats he could take besides right next to you. You were starting to think he didn’t understand what personal space was. 

"You're here." He says, occupying the seat without your permission. 

"The more I look at it, it kinda makes sense," Ningning interjects, tilting her head. 

Sohee soon does the same, only to mumble, "I still don't get it." 

"Okay, what are you guys thinking for tonight?" You try to change the subject. You feared that if you talked too much, you'd accidentally reveal how you felt about Eunseok and that this entire bit was fake.

"Why don't we just do Pizza?" Ningning suggests, but Sohee is quick to knock down the idea. 

"We always do pizza. Why don't we do tacos." 

"Mm yeah, tacos sounds good." You nod, "Let's do tacos." 

"I don't want tacos." Ningning frowns, "How about sushi?" 

"I'm good with sushi." Sohee agrees. 

"Perfect, we're going with sushi." You clap, but your joy is short-lived as Eunseok's sudden grip on your wrist startles you, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. 

'What are you guys planning?" He asks.

"Every Friday, the three of us do a game night. It's... it's kinda boring." You say, your voice trailing off, hoping he won't ask to come along. But he doesn't seem to catch the hint.

"Oh really? I'll bring the drinks then." He volunteers

"Oh no, you don't have to." You wave your palms around and shake your head. 

"I don't wanna come empty-handed."

"You don't have to come at all; it's okay." You smile sarcastically. "I'm sure you have better things to do."

"What's better than hanging out with my girlfriend?" He asks, smiling sweetly at you while Ningning squeaks about how cute the two of you are. 

"Since I'm such an awesome girlfriend, I'll let you hang out with your friends tonight." You say through gritted teeth. Squinting as you push his hands away from you.

 "And since I'm an even better boyfriend, I'll hang out with you instead." He grins, overpowering you and pulling in closer to him by your waist.

Sohee grimaces at the sight, "You guys aren't gonna be doing that the whole night, right?" He asks.

Despite all of your attempts to change his mind, Eunseok still finds himself in your living room arguing with Sohee about who knows you better. And leave it up to Ningning to encourage their foolishness. 

“Okay, this one’s easy; what’s her favorite color?” Ningning stands in front of the two boys with flashcards. 

“Blue!” Sohee calls out first. 

“Blue, purple, and green,” Eunseok calls out almost exactly at the same time as Sohee. They both look at you in sync for the answer as your smile grows.

“My favorite color is blue.” You confirm, “and purple and green.” 

You watch Sohee, your melodramatic friend, drop to his knees, his hands gripping his hair in mock despair. “You’re so dramatic,” Ningning chuckles, her laughter filling the room before shuffling the cards to ask another question. 

“Alright, what’s her go-to movie for movie nights.” 

“Umm,” You laugh when Eunseok looks straight at you for the answer. 

“E.T.,” Sohee calls out, jumping and pointing his index finger. He doesn’t have to look at you to find out if he’s right because he knows he is. That’s been your favorite movie since the both of you were kids; you kind of grew out of it since then, but you never missed an opportunity to watch E.T. 

“And the winner is-.” Ningning pauses, eyeing the two boys down for suspicion. “It’s a tie.” She beams. 

Sohee nods and holds his hand out for Eunseok to shake, “You’re cool, I guess.” 

“Thank you.” Eunseok smiles. 

“I still think you don’t deserve her, but you’re not as bad as I thought.” Your best friend explains, looking off to the side. 

“It’s getting late, I’m heading out.” Ningning breaks through the handshake to walk towards your front door. “Let’s go, Sohee.” She calls out behind her. 

“But I wanna finish hanging out with Y/n.” The boy cries but follows after her when she shoots him a deadly look. 

As the door closes behind Sohee, it's just you and Eunseok, the silence amplifying the sense of isolation. 

“I see your lip got better.” You acknowledge it when he sits down on the floor next to you. 

Eunseok taps his bottom lip, “It still hurts, though.” He says. 

You laugh and cup his cheeks with both hands, gently wriggling his face around. “You poor baby, do you want me to kiss it better?” You ask, but he stares at you blankly, his eyes filled with a mix of confusion and amusement. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You lean back from him, but his eyes never leave you. 

“Thanks for inviting me.” He finally says, leaning back against his palms.

“You invited yourself.” 

“Well, thank you for accepting me; I had fun,” Eunseok replies.” You said you do this every Friday?”

“Do not show up at my door every week, Eunseok; my neighbors are gonna think-” We’re dating.” He adds, finishing your sentence. 

“Just don’t show up here every weekend, okay,” 

“Why are you so mean to me?” 

“I have to make sure you understand that we aren’t friends,” You assert. “And when this deal ends, I’ll probably never talk to you again. So don’t get too comfortable.” 

The next afternoon, you're walking through ‌semi-crowded hallways. Sohee and Ningning, being who knows where you mentally plan what you're going to do once you get home. The plans include changing into sweatpants and watching Netflix until you fall asleep on your couch. 

The thought almost brings a smile to your face; there's nothing you love more than the soft touch of your couch, the familiar scent of your home, and the comforting silence that surrounds you when you're doing nothing in the comfort of your own home. 

Amid your blissful thoughts, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, breaking your reverie. Instinctively, you roll your eyes before you check to confirm that it's Eunseok. "Come watch me practice." He grins when you turn to face him. 

You ask, "Why would I do that?" Pulling your wrist away from him. 

"So you can meet my friends." He says. 

"Why would I do that?" You repeat. 

"Because I met your friends." 

You say, "I'll pass," but Eunseok quickly grabs your wrist again. 

"Come on, it'll be fun." He doesn't wait for you to agree or disagree before he pulls you towards the gym. 

You were quickly learning about Eunseok. He didn't understand physical boundaries, or any boundaries for that matter, and he loved to ignore everything that came out of your mouth. You could say this was your fault. You let him dangle money over your head, and now you're stuck with him for the next few months. 

Eunseok shifts his hand from your wrist to intertwine his fingers with yours. And before you know it, you're surrounded by sweaty basketball players in the gym. You hear their shoes squeak against the gym floor, along with the bouncing of basketballs. This was the first time you'd ever entered the school gym, considering you never had a reason to. Sports aren't your thing, and before now, you never imagined that you'd end up with a sports player. 

"Yeah, no, I don't want to do this." You mutter, your voice barely audible as you try to walk away. But with your hand still firmly held by Eunseok, a simple tug is all it takes to bring you back into the uncomfortable setting. 

He pleads, "Just this one time.' 

"What am I supposed to do here?" You frown, looking around the dimly lit gym, the sound of sneakers squeaking on the polished floor echoing in your ears.

"Relax and watch your boyfriend play basketball." He smirks down at you. 

You whine, "You're not even my boyfriend." You use your other fist to punch his chest weakly, but as always, your words fall on deaf ears. 

"You're late." A stranger calls out from a few feet away from you. His tone seems harsh, a clear sign of tension, but you ignore it by clinging onto Eunseok. As the unnamed man gets closer, his eyes find yours, and he begins glaring at you, his silent threat hanging in the air. 

“Y/n this is Sungchan.” Eunseok gestures towards the boy in front of you, "And Sungchan, this is." You notice his breath hitch when he pauses. “Y/n.” 

Sungchan looks at you again, but he doesn't do anything else to acknowledge you. "Don't show off because your girlfriend’s  here." He says last before walking away. Allowing you the chance to finally breathe.

"I don't think this was a good idea." 

“Don’t worry he’s not always like that.” Eunseok explains to help make you feel better but it does the direct opposite. 

“Great so it’s just me.” You frown. 

He turns you around so that your facing him, as he takes each of your hands into his own. “Don’t think too much about it okay.” 

“I won’t.” You nod. 

“I’ll go get changed, you can wait over there.” He points with your hand still connected to his. “When were done I’ll treat you to lunch.” 

“If I have to sit here for an hour I’m leaving.” 

An hour quickly turned into two, but you remained planted on the bleachers. You would never say it to him, or even aloud, but you actually enjoyed watching him play. It was entertaining to see how much he enjoyed basketball and how broad his smile was when he turned to you every time he scored. 

You never thought you’d be this into sports, or maybe it was the boy playing the sport.

As practice comes to an end, Eunseok approaches you. “I want to introduce you to my friends.” He says. You look behind his shoulder to see Sungchan already looking at you and shake your head. 

“No, I’ll pass.” You stand up in front ‌of him and grab your bag to leave. 

“It’ll be quick.” He says,

“I have things to do, Eunseok.” You say, Attempting to walk away. Eunseok lets you take two steps before he reaches for your wrist to pull you into his arms and picks you up, barely enough for your feet to hang above the floor. 

“Eunseok.” You slam your fist around his arms, “Put me down.” You continue, but he only laughs, finally landing you on your feet when you’re in front of his friends. 

“Y/n this is Shotaro.” He points to the smiley boy standing beside Sungchan, “That’s Seunghan. That’s Anton, and you’ve met Sungchan already.” 

“How long have you guys been dating?” Shotaro asks before finishing the rest of his water bottle. 

Eunseok answers, “Four months.” 

"Four months, and you haven't told us," Seunghan asks. 

"I wasn't ready to meet anyone yet," You say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Eunseok chuckles nervously, attempting to diffuse the tension. Your gaze meets Sungchan's, a silent exchange of unspoken words, before he finally breaks the silence.

"Well, if we're finally meeting you, that must mean you're serious, huh?" He says, looking at you.

"You never know what could happen. We might break up tomorrow." You look up at Eunseok, hoping he'll get the message.

Eunseok responds, "But we're not breaking up anytime soon." Wrapping his arm around you. 

Though you're mildly upset with Eunseok, you're even more uncomfortable with the way his basketball mate is eyeing you down. And while you'd usually push your (fake) boyfriend away, you feel the need to hold him closer, mainly because he was the only person in the room who felt somewhat familiar to you.

"Anything could happen," you say while simultaneously resting your head against him, hoping to ease that anxious feeling you're getting. 

Eunseok notices something's wrong when you begin to get unusually touchy—turning in his arms to rest your head against his chest. Their voices become nothing but distant sounds as you disassociate into your thoughts. 

"Are you ready to go?" He whispers into your ear. 

You mutter, "I've been ready to go since we got here." You feel the vibrations in his chest when he laughs. 

"Let's go." He says, reaching for your hand.

"Wait, you don't —""Aren't you hungry?" He interrupts, and you nod, allowing him to guide you out of the gym.

"Didn't know you could be so clingy." Eunseok comments as he reaches to open your drink since you were struggling with opening it yourself. 

He grins, "Here," when passing your drink back and watching you get flustered.

"I don't think we should keep meeting each other's friends." You blurt after thanking him. "It'll just make things more awkward after we break up. They'll want to comfort us and all that weird stuff." 

The way Eunseok looks at you makes your heart skip a beat. Out of nervousness, you take a bite of your sandwich to distract yourself from his gaze. "You're thinking about breaking up already?" He asks.

"How long did you plan on doing this?" You respond, "You know we'll have to stop eventually." 

Eunseok sits back in his seat, "I like introducing you as my girlfriend." he says 

"I think you need a real relationship instead of paying me to pretend with you. It's embarrassing, actually." 

"Maybe I like pretending with you," You look up to see that he isn't even looking at you. He has your heart skipping beats, and he couldn't even give you the decency to look at you.

"Enjoy it while it lasts, 'cause it won't be long." You assert to hide the way you're feeling. 

"I'm thinking about buying a skateboard," Sohee reveals. The clinking of plates and forks around you fades into nothing when you look at your friend wide-eyed. You were used to spontaneous, crazy ideas from him, but they didn't usually include potential suicide.

 "A skateboard?" You repeat

"Do you even know how to skate?" Ningning asked, playfully teasing as she took a bite of her salad.

Sohee looks away. "No, but I have free will and think it could help land me a girlfriend."  

"I think it just would make you look like an idiot with a skateboard." You shrug, "But to each their own." As you wrap your sentence up, you check your phone for the notification that just came in. 

My everything: I miss you

My everything: Let's hang out.

"You know what? I think a skateboard might actually suit you, suit you," you say, trying to dismiss the message you just received.

You observe Sohee's face lighting up. "I knew you'd agree with me," he beams. Then, he turns to Ningning and asks, "Why can't you be more supportive?"

"I can't wait to watch you fall on your face." You add, and Sohee's smile gradually fades. Your phone vibrates a few more times, drawing skeptical glares from both Sohee and Ningning.

"Aren't you gonna answer that?" Ninging speaks up first, her voice tinged with concern. You feel a familiar pang of anxiety as you glance down at your phone, quickly dismissing the call with a hesitant shake of your head. "No, um, it's just spam or something, no one really important," you mumble, hoping to convince both yourself and your friends. Sohee leans in, his brow furrowed in thought. "Have you tried blocking them?" he asks, his tone suggesting a practical solution to what seems like a trivial problem.

"It's no point. They're just going to keep coming back. I'll tell him we aren't friends, and he'll keep bothering me because he doesn't understand anything I say." You vent, the tension in the room thickening as you mindlessly stab the chicken on your tray. 

Sohee readjusts himself in his seat, feeling visibly uncomfortable now since the vibe in the room has changed. "I think blocking him might help with that."

You reach for your phone and press the power button, watching as the screen goes dark. "That should take care of it," you mutter, placing the phone face up on the table. With your attention no longer occupied by the phone, Sohee visibly relaxes, and Ninging seizes the opportunity to steer the conversation in a new direction.

"So, how's everything going with Eunseok?" she asks, a cautious grin spreading across her face.

“Why are you always bringing him up?” You whine. 

“I just wanna know the details. How come you never share the details?” She persists.

You shake your head, “There’s no details to share.” 

“I find it hard to believe that you two are actually dating,” she argues, her top lip turning up. You have nothing to say to that; you’ve been trying your best to sell your act, but you're no actor, and you were never really good at pretending to like people that you didn't.

“We're dating. It’s real.” You nod, using your drink to avoid eye contact. 

“Well, why does it seem like you don’t like him?” Ningning rests her elbows on the table, which makes you nervous for some reason.

"Like him? Please, I like him so much you could even say I love him," you reply with a forced laugh. "Can we change the subject?"

“There’s a basketball game tomorrow; I know we don’t usually go to the games, but I think it could be fu-” Ninging trails off when you throw your head back and groan. 

“I’m not doing this.” 

“Why don’t you wanna go support your boyfriend.” Ningning doesn’t back down. You always told her she could be a lawyer since she had the knack of always getting the truth out of someone. You just hated that she always used her talents on you.

"Sohee, what kind of skateboard are you thinking about getting?" You ask, ignoring the way NIngning looks at you. 

"You know you make it hard for me to believe that two of you are actually dating." She challenges, her tone laced with skepticism.

"I don't know what to tell you. Go ask him yourself, I guess." You shrug

"Name five things you like about Sohee." Ningning spurs randomly. 

"Easy, Umm, he's a good listener; he's fun to be around. He knows the best food places and has a good sense of humor. I like his smile and his fluffy hair."

"Okay, that's six things." 

"I can make it seven. He's fun-sized," you add with a chuckle, the humor in your voice lightening the mood. 

"Okay, great, that's seven. Now, name one thing you like about your boyfriend." 

"He's… Well, he's good at basketball." 

"You know, Ningning is right. I'm more convinced you have a crush on me than you do your boyfriend," Sohee interjects. 

"Whatever, think whatever you want. I don't care." You throw your hands up in defense.

"Yeah, you're not very convincing." Ningning laughs, and Sohee joins her. 

The gymnasium is filled to the brim. You just hope that it's full enough for you to go unnoticed by your boyfriend or any of his teammates. You lost Sohee and Ningning to the concession stand and the group of girls who stopped to ask Sohee if he knew how to skate.

"I'm going to go find seats," you call out, but with all the commotion happening around you, neither of them hears you. 

So you roamed the busy gym by yourself, hiding at the sight of any jersey you saw, especially any jersey with the number thirty nine. Unfortunately for you, there were hundreds of jerseys, with thirty nine going around.

"Hey." A somewhat familiar voice appeared behind you, causing you to stop right in your tracks. You think you'd rather have run into Eunseok, but Sungchan finds you instead. 

You slowly turn to see the tall boy hovering over you, already dressed in his basketball attire. "Hey." You say, sucking in a breath. His gaze is much different than the one he had a week ago; it's softer now, and you think you even see a smile. Still, you hold your breath, scared he might yell at you at any second now that Eunseok isn't around. 

"Umm," he shakes his head, "He's down there." Sungchan points to the very boy you've been avoiding. Thankfully, he's turned away from you, seemingly preoccupied with another conversation. 

"Oh, thanks." You nod.

"I can walk you down if you want." He insists, and you shake your head. 

"No- I think I'm gonna go to the restroom." You point. "I might've drank a little too much." 

"Yeah," he stands, lingering around like he wants to say something else, and you continue holding your breath. "Do you know where the restrooms are? or do you want me to walk you?" 

"I think I can handle finding them on my own." 

"Yeah, yeah, of course." 

"Yeah," you laugh. Shortly after, he laughs along with you. "Good luck with the game, Sungchan." 

"Thanks." He says just before you run off to hide in the restroom. The idea seems great at first, but you begin to have your doubts when you see rolls of toilet paper stringed along the floor, and each stall has evidence of someone else's previous activities. 

You're sure you can find somewhere else to hide out until the game starts, no big deal. 

However, when you see Eunseok leaning against the wall outside, waiting for you, you aren't so certain.

"Damnit, Sungchan," you think to yourself as you look the other way and attempt to pass your boyfriend. 

You thought you had almost slipped away when you felt his hand wrap around your wrist. "You really are here," He grinned as you turned to face him.

"Not because I want to be." You huff, "My friends forced me to come." 

"But if you tell them that you're better without me here, I bet they'll leave me alone," you think aloud. Eunseok smiles to match yours; based on that alone, you get a peak of hope. 

"Yeah, of course." He nods. 

"Okay, umm, just go wait over there. I'll find them, and then you can just say something like, 'Why are you here? I told you not to come. You're going to make me nervous and go home seriously.' And they'll buy it." You grin.

"Right…" 

"Oh, you're the best, thank you. I'll be right back!" you yell, drifting farther away to find your friends. 

"Guys," you panted, holding onto your knees as you caught your breath. “The game is about to start. We need to-" You snatched the water bottle from Sohees's grip and finished the rest of it, which just happened to be the entire thing. 

"We should go sit down, don't wanna miss the game." You pop up.

"But-"Ningning frowns, gesturing to the one person in line in front of her. "I've been waiting here for thirty minutes. I want my hotdog." 

“No time. Let’s go.” You rush, pulling her along with you to the spot you and Eunseok agreed to meet up at. 

Just as promised, Eunseok looks surprised to see you. “Hey, what are you doing here?” He asks, pulling you into a bear hug. 

“I came to watch you play obviously.” You mumbled into his chest. 

“I thought you told me you wouldn’t come.” He says loud enough for your two friends to hear. “I guess you wanted to surprise me.” 

Your eyes go wide and you attempt to push him off of you but that only makes him cling onto you tighter. “Eunseok.” 

He coos, "I'm so glad I have a girlfriend that supports me." Easing up on his hold. "I know I'm gonna do much better now that you're here." He grins despite the way you're glaring at him. 

"You two are so cute. We're going to give you some space." Ningning calls from behind you while Sohee continues to glower at the entire thing. 

"What the hell was that?" You ask as soon as they leave.

"I'm kind of busy right now, but we can talk afterward, right?" He smirks and leans down to kiss your cheek. "Wish me luck." 

"Break a leg." You shout as he backs away from you. "Or both of them." 

The game starts while you're still stomping your way through the gym, your lips turn down into a mean frown, and your arms crossed over your chest. Ningning spots you first and waves her hand around for you to sit between her and Sohee.

"You look mad." Sohee acknowledges.

"Mad? Why would I be mad?" You laugh sarcastically. "I'm not mad."

"He looked at me." The girl behind you squeaks. "Eunseok looked at me." 

"Because of that." Your best friend mutters.

"Y/n isn't a jealous person. it's going to take a lot more than some freshman to tick her off." Ningning speaks up, but she's proved wrong when you turn around and glare at the younger girl. 

"Where'd you get that?" You ask, referring to her jersey.

 "I made it." She beams, "Eunseok is my favorite player."

"Give it to me." 

"No, it's mine." She pouts, possessively holding her garment.

You breathe and reach into your back pocket for your wallet. She looks at you confused when you pull out a hundred-dollar bill. "What's your name?" You ask.

"Lea." She says barely.

"Alright, Lea. I'm going to give you this." You wave around the money, "and you're going to give me that jersey. Okay?"

She nods hesitantly.

"Good girl." You coo, passing her the money and waiting patiently as she pulls the shirt over her head and passes it to you. 

It takes less than a second to slide it over your clothes and marvel at how good it looks. "Perfect fit?"  You smile, and she smiles back, holding a thumbs up. 

"That went a lot better than I thought it would," Ningning comments, her voice filled with relief and amusement, while Sohee picks at the material of your newly acquired jersey.

"Wow, did you actually make this?" He turns to ask, and Lea nods. "This is so good." He continues playing with your shirt until you push his hand away. 

"Do you skate?" She asks. Sohee looks down at the useless skateboard and then up at you, who's giving him a knowing look, anticipating his lie.

"Umm, no, I just thought it would be cool to walk around with." He utters, "But I'm learning."

"That is so cool." She giggles. 

"You think so?" 

You look at Ningning, eyes furrowed, and Ningning looks back at you with the same expression. Neither of you thought that his plan would actually work. 

"Do you wanna come sit by me?" Lea taps the empty spot next to her. He looks to both of his friends for permission, and you nod. 

The game goes on pretty well for the next 30 minutes, or so you assume. You weren't really sure; you just cheered when everyone else cheered and booed when everyone else booed. "Woo." You jump out of your seat, fist in the air. "That's my boyfriend." 

"You're cheering for the wrong team." Ningning informs you. 

"Oh." You pause. "Boo, you suck." Your best friend laughs as you lower back in your seat and continue to watch Eunseok play quietly for the rest of the game. Occasionally locking eyes with Sungchan.

Once everything is over, Eunseok finds you first. "Hey," he announces, interrupting your conversation with Ningning. 

"Hey," You gasp, feeling his warm breath on your neck. He wraps his arms around your waist and draws your back to his chest.

"Do you mind if I walk her home?" Eunseok asks Ningning, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"You can't; we have to look for Sohee." You explain but Ningning shakes her head.

"I don't mind; she was talking about you too much anyway. It was starting to get annoying." Your best friend beams when you scowl at her. "I'll see you tomorrow. Have fun. Bye." 

And when she skips away, Eunseok only pulls you closer to tug on the hem of your shirt. "What's this?" He questions. 

"Someone gave it to me. I figured it'd be rude if I didn't wear it." You lie. "I'm not wearing it for you."

You're scared you'll spill everything if he looks at you any longer. Luckily for you, he just nods and changes the subject. "Sungchan told me you wished him good luck." He says, taking your hand in his.

"I did."

"You told me to break a leg." He responds, sticking his bottom lip out unintentionally. 

"Isn't that a phrase of encouragement? You know, like when people say 'break a leg' before an audition because they want them to get the part." You start rambling even though you know exactly what you meant.

"They don't tell them to break both legs." He says.

You bite back a laugh. "Well, I just wanted you to do really good." 

The sky is pitch dark, not even the stars shine on the warm night. The only light comes from the dimly lit street lamps, casting long shadows on the deserted streets. But you're not gazing at the heavens. You're too busy navigating the path, trying to avoid colliding with Eunseok every few steps.

"Oh, how come you haven't responded to my texts? Is your phone broken?" he asks, breaking the silence you were slowly getting used to.

"No, my phone is fine; I just didn't wanna talk to you." 

He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Ouch," He teases, a smirk playing on his lips.

"I have an idea." You stop and jump in front of him. "Why don't I help you find a real girlfriend? Then we can stop this." 

He looks up and pretends to think, giving you a few seconds of silence before he smiles down at you. "Nope."

"What?" 

 "I don't want to." He shakes his head.

"Have you ever thought about how this is affecting my life?" You whine when he grabs your hand and pulls you back next to him.

"I have, actually. You get a weekly stipend, free game tickets, and an amazing boyfriend. Could things get any better for you?" 

"I have two friends who keep poking their noses into my romantic life and a weirdo who doesn't listen to anything I say." You mutter. 

"I guess there's that too." He grins. "You still have an amazing boyfriend, though, so I think that evens it out." 

"You're not my boyfriend." As suspected, your words go into one ear and straight through the other. He keeps his same stupid grin on his face and your hand wrapped in his until he walks you to your apartment.

“I wonder what my girlfriend is doing.” Sohee pouts, tucking his chin into the palm of his hand. 

“Probably thinking of all the ways to break up with you.” Ningning laughs, and you start to laugh with her, but it quickly turns into a coughing fit. 

“Sorry, guys.” You sniff.

“Don’t worry, girl. It’s fine.” Ningning reassured but continued to back away. 

Sohee passes you a napkin. “Are you getting sick?” 

“I hope not; I don’t wanna cancel our game night.” 

“We might have to,” Ningning speaks. “Don’t worry, we always have next week.”

“But we’ve never missed a week.” You cry, “We’re going so strong I don’t wanna ruin it.” 

Ningning shakes her head. “My health is-“ She stops when she notices how you and Sohee look at her. “Your health is far more important than game nights.” She corrects herself. “So just get some rest. We’ll try again next week.”

You sniff, “Okay.” 

And just as planned, you took Friday off, as your cold just got worse. Your head was banging, your throat was dry, and your nose was so stuffed you could only breathe through your mouth. 

You rotted in your bed, your body temperature far too warm for you to relax, but the room far too cold for you to leave your covers, which was very ironic to you because you set the temperature to seventy-five degrees before you got into bed the night before.

Just as you were about to drift into a peaceful slumber, a sudden knock at the door shattered the tranquility. Frustrated, you reluctantly left the warmth of your bed and trudged through your apartment, emitting groans reminiscent of a zombie. 

"Game nights canceled." You sneeze into your elbow. 

"I heard." Eunseok sneaks his way past you and into your apartment.

"Why are you here then?" You question. 

"To check on you." He responds, "You weren't answering my phone calls."

"I'm sick; I don't really feel like talking right now." You sneeze again. "We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" You rush, pushing him towards and out of the door. He tries to get a few words in, but he's not able to say anything before you yell, "Bye." And slam the door in his face. 

Exhausted, you made your way back to the couch, too weary to even consider returning to your bed.

Around twenty minutes later, there's another knock at the door, and you want to cry out of anger. The more you get up, the more your head hurts. Once again, you're met with Song Eunseok. "Do you listen to anything I say?" You ask, but he only smiles fondly at you.

"I brought medicine." Eunseok covers his face with the hefty medical supply he bought for you. 

“I didn’t ask for it.”

He presses a kiss on your warm cheek. “You’re welcome.” He says before squeezing in past you and closing the door. You fold your arms and watch him find his way to your kitchen. He sits the bag on the table, slides his hoodie off, and folds it over your chair.

“I have a headache, Eunseok; I don’t have time for your games today.”

“Perfect, I bought Tylenol.” He shakes the bottle of supplements.

“Your coach is gonna hate me if I get you sick too.” You plead.

Eunseok finally pauses his movements to say, “I’ll be fine,” nonchalantly as if you weren’t losing your mind at the thought of him missing any of his practices of games because of you—all of the girls who’d line up at your door because their favorite player isn’t playing. You were just sorta getting on good terms with Sungchan; imagine how he’d react if you got his teammate sick.  

“I can hear the death threats now.” You whine, “I’ll take all the medicine, Eunseok. Just go home, please.”

Despite your cries and pleas, he only sighs. “I have to make sure you eat. You can’t take medicine on an empty stomach,” Eunseok informs ever so calmly.

Tilting your head back, you throw your arms down. Your lips naturally fall into a frown. “Why are you making this so hard?” 

“Why are you being so dramatic?” He leaves the kitchen to stand in front of you. Each of his hands lands on your shoulders. The warmth of his touch seeps through your clothes, calming your nerves. “It’s just a small cold. You’re not going to die, and neither am I.” He adds, guiding you to sit on your trim, cozy sofa. “Just relax.”

Something about the way he says it actually makes you want to relax. You inhale and let your shoulders fully rest. “See, that feels nice, doesn’t it?” He coos, his voice soothing and comforting.

“But if you get sick-“ ”I’ll be fine because you’ll be here to take care of me.” He finishes.

He’s not going anywhere; you’ve come to that conclusion when he begins pulling out pots and pans and chopping vegetables in your kitchen. However, you can’t say that it bothers you. With each passing day, your feelings towards him were shifting. You were learning more about him as a person. He was someone that his little brother looked up to, someone that his friends admired and respected. And slowly, he was becoming someone you adored, someone you were starting to have deep feelings for.

You were becoming more comfortable with his presence, so much so you could even say you craved it at times. 

“Drink this.” He mutters, holding a bottle of electrolytes to your lips. This time, you don’t fight him; you don’t have the energy. He taps a napkin under your chin to clean and sits the empty bottle on the coffee table.

“I don’t want to eat; I want to sleep.” You mumble, eyes half closed, when he picks up the homemade soup. 

“Just eat a little, then you can sleep.” 

You open your mouth to say something else but Eunsoek uses that as an opportunity to start spoon feeding you. The soup is warm, and delicious it almost distracts you from the fact that he was feeding you. 

Almost.

“I can feed myself.” You grumble. Voice hoarse as you attempt to get the spoon from his hand. He’s quicker to pull it away from you.

“Would you just let me be a good boyfriend?” Eunseok asks, dipping the spoon and bringing it back up to the tip of your lips.

“You’re not-“ You huff and roll your eyes, accepting defeat. “Fine.” You breathe reluctantly  allowing him to continue spoon feeding you. The pattern continues until the bowl is empty, your stomach is full and your eyelids are heavy. 

“See that wasn’t so bad was it?” He asks but the only response he gets is a hum from while you shift on the couch and rest your head in his lap. 

“Can I go to sleep now?” You respond sluggishly against his thigh. 

Eunseok croons, “I won’t stop you.” As he slides the polyester blanket up to your shoulder. Pushing your hair out of your face when you curl up against him. 

As soon as he gives you permission, you let yourself drift off to sleep. Maybe it was the warmth of the soup, the soothing effects of the medicine, or perhaps it was the gentle way he strokes your head. You find yourself much more at ease with his presence compared to two hours ago when you were tossing and turning in bed, struggling to find a comfortable sleeping position.

As you awaken, you find yourself nestled in your bed, cocooned within the worn, soft pink comforter. The morning sunlight streams through the curtains, gently warming your face as you slowly open your eyes. A deep yawn breaks the silence as you slowly stretch your arms and arch your back. You notice that your breathing feels clearer, and the scratchiness in your throat has significantly decreased since yesterday. 

Knowing you have only one person to thank for that, you skip to your living room. Smiling internally when you see Eunseok asleep on your couch, his legs hanging off the sofa because of how tall he was. You kneel in front of him and lay your hand on his chest just barely, but it's enough to wake him up. 

As his eyes slowly flutter open, you hear Eunseok's gentle voice inquire, "How do you feel?" His warm hand reaches out to brush your forehead, checking for any signs of a fever. 

A soft smile spreads across your face as he then caresses your cheek. "I feel better," you murmur, savoring the tender touch.

"Are you hungry?" You ask eagerly, infused with warmth toward him. "I'm really not a good cook but I could order something."

Fake dating was starting to get easier. Once you realized you were getting paid to hold some basketball player's hand and call yourself his girlfriend, everything else just fell into place.

Mostly everything.

You weren't as comfortable around Eunseok's friends as He was around yours. Avoiding them seemed to be the best option, but Sungchan was making that so much harder for you.

"Catch," Shotaro calls right before a basketball comes flying straight toward your head. You should've moved or even attempted to dodge it, but you go into shock, your feet planted firmly on the ground, and your eyes squeezed shut as the ball gets closer. You wait for the ball to come into contact with your face, but it never does. 

"Careful." Sungchan sounds, throwing the ball back to his teammate. Slowly, your eyes flutter open, turning to see Sungchan standing behind you. On instinct, you shuffle away from him but nearly trip over your own two feet, and he quickly reaches to grab you by your arm and steady you. 

"Sorry, I- umm- I didn't mean to interrupt you guys I was just looking for-" You weren't usually nervous like this, and it wasn't a lot of people who could get this reaction out of you but much like Euneseok's father, Sungchan scared the life out of you.

"He isn't here." He states. 

"Okay, thanks."  You scramble towards the exit without saying another word, your heart racing and your palms sweaty. 

Your second encounter with him was when you were walking down the busy hallway. Preoccupied by your phone, you weren't paying attention to where you were going. It was a habit of yours that Sohee was trying to help you break since you were in high school. But like you always say, old habits die hard.

Sohee: Quick, Lea is demanding I take her on a date. What do girls like?

Ningning: Teach her how to skateboard. I'm sure she'd love that. 🤭

Sohee: this is serious 

 You: I already told you all girls aren't the same. Ask her what she wants.

Sohee: I tried that, she told me to figure it out.

Ningning: 😭😭

You: dude. buy her flowers or something, she’d probably enjoy a cute picnic.

Sohee: She's allergic to bees. What if I take her on a picnic and she gets stung and dies like in that one movie.

You're still typing when you run face-first into the soft flesh of someone's palm. You blink once, twice before following the trail of their arm back to Sungchan's face. "Watch where you're going." He glares down at you, his stern gaze making you feel small and vulnerable.

You can tell he's trying to be endearing, but it sounds harsh and doesn't help your racing heart or the hundred thoughts swirling in your mind. Most of them conclude with you breaking into tears right there on the spot.

"I'm sorry." you spur and run the opposite way, knowing that it's going to take longer to get to your next class. 

Another time, you're wandering around the student library searching for a specific book. It was closing soon, and you knew you had to hurry, but the book was nowhere to be found. You had already asked the librarian three times, so you weren't really eager to ask her again for the fourth time, but you did anyway. Tiptoeing back to the main desk as if it would decrease your embarrassment in any way. 

"Hey, umm, are you sure the book is in section C? I checked a few times and couldn't find it," you ask.

"You can't find it?" The older woman repeats, and you nod. 

"No."

"That's too bad." She snickers almost like a witch, which would've intrigued you any other time, but right now, you were desperate. 

"Okay." You pull your lips into a tight-lipped smile and turn away from the desk. Treading back towards the section she advised you earlier and running your fingers through each book. You make it to the bottom of the shelf before you throw your head back and huff in sheer frustration. That's when your eyes land on the very book you've spent fifty minutes looking for, all the way at the top of the shelf. 

Quickly, you push yourself up on your feet and stick your arm over your head, except the book is out of your reach. You stand on your tippy toes and try again; this time, just as you're about to grab it, another hand comes into view and pulls it right over you.

"Hey." You call, spinning around to confront the book thief. But your arms nearly get weak when you catch sight of Sungchan, holding your book. 

It happens again: Your stomach is twirling, your heartbeat is unsteady, and your palms are so sweaty that if you wiped them against your shirt, you would probably leave handprints. 

"I kinda need that." Your voice, tinged with vulnerability, comes out a lot smaller than you had planned for it to.

"This?" He asks, showing off the book.

You nod, your eyes trained to the object in his large hands.

A faint smirk played at the corner of Sungchan's lips. "Why should I give it to you?" he teases.

"Because I'm your friend's girlfriend." You blink bashfully, hoping that would be enough for him. 

Suddenly, his lips straighten out into a thin line, and you think you might've even seen him straighten up. "Right," he mutters, handing the book over. 

Just like that?  You think to yourself, your relief palpable as you hesitantly accept the book, half-expecting him to pull it back right when you get the tips of your fingertips on it. 

"Thanks- uh, Thank you." You stutter. 

He utters, "Yeah." And walks away, leaving you even more confused than before. 

You figured things were probably never going to get easier with his friends, but that wasn't a permanent problem since you and Eunseok weren't going to be "dating" for much longer anyway. 

It's pitch dark when your eyes flutter open. From the lack of light, you knew it still had to be midnight. You throw your hand around and blindly search for your vibrating phone, not without wondering who could be calling you so late at night. 

“Hello?” You utter breathlessly into your phone speaker, eyelids half open and not knowing who’s voice you’re going to hear on the other line.

“I didn’t think you’d answer.” Eunseok sounds directly in your ear. The base of his voice causes your eyes to fully open. You can hear that he’s been up for a while, or maybe he hasn’t gotten any sleep at all. 

“What do you want?” You groan, “I’m not leaving my bed.”

“I just wanna talk to you, I can’t sleep.” His confession has you rolling over to face the ceiling. Suddenly you’re no longer tired and you wonder why that is. 

“You have friends to talk to.”

“We’re not as close as you think.” You can hear him shuffle in his bed, presumably to get more comfortable.

“Neither are we.” You debate but he knows that isn’t entirely true. If you really disliked him as much as you say you do you would’ve hung up on him the second you heard his voice. Yet you chose to sacrifice your sleep to keep him entertained and that told him everything he needed to know. 

“Fair, but I don’t like them as much as I like you.” Eunseok responds after a long period of silence. 

“You’re always saying weird stuff.” You try but fail to contain your smile. 

“I’m just being honest.” He says.

Choosing to ignore his indirect confession, you turn on your side and you can hear that he turns in his bed too. There’s another moment of isolated silence but it isn’t awkward. Hearing his slow breaths on the other line is quite calming.

You whisper, “Eunseok.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Can I ask you a question?” You ask

“Shoot.”

“How come you can’t find a real girlfriend?” 

For the next ten seconds he doesn’t say anything and you check the phone a few times to make sure he hasn’t hung up. “I haven’t found anyone that caught my eye.” Eunseok finally answers, but that’s far from the answer you were expecting.

“No one?” You ask. “I don’t believe that.” 

He laughs breathlessly against your ear, “Well how come you aren’t dating anyone?” He flips the question around.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed. But you’re the only weirdo willing to date me.” You giggle and expect him to do the same but it’s quiet on his end, except for the ruffling of sheets when he sits up on his elbows.

“You and I both know that’s not true.” He nearly scolds. “Sungchans been interested in you for a long time.” 

“Really?” You jump up. Somehow it makes sense when you think about it. The distant stares, the nonchalant attitude. You just wondered if Sungchan knew how scary he was when he was trying to flirt.

"Yeah," Eunseok sighs, "He was pretty pissed when he found out about us, but aside from him, I'm sure there were other guys who've asked you out."

You play with the closest thing to you, which happened to be the fluffy pink bunny Ningning brought you for your birthday a few years back. Humming as you think about the handful of boys that have asked you out on dates, you twirl the bunny's long ears absentmindedly, "No one that I was interested in." 

"So you're interested in me?" You can practically hear his smile when he speaks. 

"You're paying me. Plus, I wanted to see what was so great about the Song Eunseok." You tease. 

"And what have you learned?" He asks

"You're annoying, but you're not as bad as I thought you'd be." It goes silent again. Only the sounds of your wobbly ceiling fan and the noises from his background fill the room. After so much silence, you begin to bite your cheek in anticipation. Had he fallen asleep? You think to yourself.

"I'm glad you agreed to do this with me." He finally speaks, and you jerk your head towards the phone. "I like having you as my fake girlfriend." 

"You're always saying weird stuff." 

"You'll get used to it," Eunseok responds. The tone of his voice tells you he's most likely fighting to keep his eyes open, that is if he hasn't already given up trying and just let himself sink fully into the comfort of his bed. 

"You should get some sleep; we have class in the morning." You say just above a whisper, half afraid to disturb his sleep.

He mumbles, "Don't hang up." Which causes your lips to turn up against your pillow. 

"Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark." You say sarcastically. 

"I'm just not ready to end the call," He murmurs, his voice rough and drawn out. You wish you could succumb to sleep as easily as he does, but you're left with your face buried in the soft cotton pillow, eyes wide open, mind racing.

 If this was fake, why did it feel so real?

You utter, "We still aren't friends, Eunseok." But the only thing you get in response is a soft snore. 

Muffled coughs, dim lights, anxious tapping. There’s no place in the world you hate more than the library, yet here you were, head buried in your notebook, bouncing your leg up and down. 

“Mind if I sit here.” Eunseok appears out of nowhere, sliding into the seat right next to you before you can grant him permission.

“What are you doing, Eunseok?” You sigh, pushing your hair back. 

“You looked like you could use some company.” He whispers back, a smile spread upon his lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay quiet.” 

You suck in a deep breath and go back to focusing on your notes. Eunseok follows your lead, keeping as quiet as he promised he would. He stays so quiet you almost forget he’s there. 

His presence becomes known again when you feel stares coming your way. You can practically feel the heat of the gazes burning into the side of your face, occasionally looking up to lock eyes with a stranger or two. 

You ignored it at first. It's just a few sets of eyes on you, no big deal. Soon, it becomes too many eyes for you to bear. Mainly because you know why they're looking. You sit up in your seat and glare at the cause of your distraction.

"This isn't gonna work." You breathe. 

Cluelessly, he lifts his head from his laptop. "I didn't do anything." He frowns. 

"You didn't have to." You gesture your head towards the wandering eyes and hushed whispers. "They're not looking at me." 

"I can't help that." 

"I know you can't, but I really need to finish this essay, and I'd rather do it without people staring," you explain. Judging by the look on his face and the way he nods, you think he understands.

"I guess I'll just see you tonight then." 

"I told you not to show up at my apartment." You scold as he packs his stuff up. He doesn't say anything, and you know he's ignoring you on purpose. "Hey." You call out and catch when a smirk plays on the corner of his lips. 

“I’m serious, Eunseok, don’t stop by.” You half whisper, but it counts for nothing when he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek.

He’s gone before you could yell at him any further. You slouch in your seat and sigh as you check the notifications on your buzzing voice phone.

Sohee: Can’t make it tonight. Lea wants me to help her dog sit 

Ningning: You know, I’m starting to not like this new girlfriend of yours.

You: No worries, ningning and I will have enough fun for you. 

Ningning: We won’t?? I’m not third wheeling you and Eunseok.

You: Noo please, this is the one thing I look forward to every week. He won’t be there I promise. Don’t do this to me please. 

Ningning: Lie to me again. 

You: Fine, Eunseok and I will have enough fun for the both of you. 

You breathe in frustration right before you bury your head into your arms, biting your lip to stop from crying. Tears swelling up against your waterline as you sniffle. Two weeks without your weekly hangouts you were just inches away from losing it.

You sit contently in your apartment, alone. Lights from the television flash on the wall behind you. “I taught him how to talk now. He can talk now.” You quote along with the movie, followed by a laugh. 

You pause the movie and throw your legs over the couch when you hear a knock at the door. Assuming it’s the pizza you ordered, you open the door, but the man behind the door isn’t wearing a pizza delivery uniform, and he certainly doesn’t have your medium two-topping pizza in the palm of his hand.

“Eunseok.” You frown with disappointment. 

“Don’t be too excited to see me.” He sneaks in past you, taking notice of your empty apartment and the miscellaneous pieces of popcorn thrown around the front of your couch.

“Everyone canceled.” You mutter. 

"Perfect, so it's just us." 

"What are you doing here, Eunseok?" You turn to face him, arms crossed. "I'm sure there are better things for you to do right now."

"Maybe, but I'm already here, so I might as well stay." He pats your head. 

Just then, there's a knock at the door, and this time, you're certain it's the pizza you ordered half an hour ago. "I'll get it," Eunseok says before you get the chance to, and you save your breath because you know he's going to do what he wants no matter what you say. You watch as he strides to the door, his long legs eating up the distance. 

"I have a medium pepperoni and mushroom pizza for-" The delivery guy stops when he looks up to see who he's speaking to. "Song Eunseok?" He babbles, "No way, I'm a huge fan." 

"Are you?" Eunseok laughs, and you roll your eyes when you know he can't see you. "How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it, man." The delivery pushes the pizza box into the palm of Eunseok's hand. "Enjoy it." He runs off, not giving Eunseok the opportunity to say anything else. 

The tall basketball player turns to you with an annoying grin budded on his lips. "We got free pizza." He holds up the box.

"I saw." You murmur nonchalantly, grabbing the box from his hands and striding towards your couch. You can practically feel Eunseok's breath on the back of your neck from how close he treads behind you. 

"Pepperoni and mushroom?" He questions, plopping down on the sofa right next to you. 

"I didn't expect any guests." You utter, with your mouth full. 

As the night continues, you end up with your head in Eunseok's lap, gazing up at him while he mindlessly dances his fingers around your skin. 

"How long have you been playing basketball?" You murmur, intertwining your hand with his. 

"Since middle school," he answers, "My dad wanted me to get out of the house more often, so he put me in basketball camp. From there, I just fell in love with it."

"Did you ever think you'd love it for so long?" You ask another question just to hear him talk.

"No, but I never imagined I'd fall out of love with it." 

"Do you ever get tired of playing? Or just lose motivation sometimes?" 

Eunseok nods, "I do sometimes, but then I feel guilty." He glances down at you, "It's become a part of me, and rejecting basketball feels like I'm rejecting myself."

"Wow?" You gasp in awe. "This is serious for you." 

"Yeah." He breathes, "very." You sit up halfway as he readjusts himself in the chair, and he gently pulls you back down once he feels comfortable again, clamping his hand around yours. "So what about you?" He utters.

"What about me?" 

"Tell me about yourself."

"There's nothing to tell." You murmur bashfully, "I'm just a nerd who loves the idea of outer space."

"Why?" Eunseok asks, watching you fondly as you think about how you're going to answer. 

"I like the idea of how big and vast it is, how much life it holds." You sigh, "It reminds me of how small I am. That's a comforting thought for me because I know that nothing really matters." You look back up towards him and catch the way he's looking down at you. Suddenly, you become hyper-aware of the position you're in. Ripping away from his lap, you rush to the opposite side of the couch and clear your throat. 

"But that's why I love Astronomy." You laugh nervously. "Are you thirsty by chance?" You ask, jumping up and running towards your kitchen. 

"Not really." Eunseok stands up on his feet to follow you. He leans against the wall while you slide back on your counter, sipping your soda and staring into thin air so you don't have to look at him. He's the first to break the thick layer of awkward silence you've single-handedly created in the room. "My brother's birthday is coming up in two weeks. He really wants you there." He treads closer to you.

"Does he really?" 

"My family likes you." He murmurs, "Everyone likes you." 

"Because they think I'm your girlfriend." You retort, and he slides closer.

"Because you're you." The compliment causes your breath to hitch, "There's no one like you." He adds, in a hushed tone. 

Looking down at the floor to avoid looking in his direction, You respond, "You're being weird again.". 

Eunseok couldn't explain his feelings about you because he knew you wouldn't listen. He thought if he showed you, you'd finally understand. He lifts your chin and dips his head down to press a chaste kiss against your lips. When you don't push him away like he half thought you would, he does again to test the waters. Yet you still don't do anything, so he tries it one more time; this time, it's more than just a simple peck. 

It starts off small and gradually grows deeper and feverish. You slide your arms around his neck and pull him down towards you. His lips are gentle against yours, just as you imagined they would. It feels so right to have his body pressed against yours, his large hands tugging at your waist, but it feels too good. It feels so good that you begin to feel guilty.

It only takes a slight push on his chest for him to break the kiss and look down on you through hooded eyelids.

“We shouldn’t do this. “ You breathe heavily. You’re so sure this isn’t what he wants. He’s just lost in the heat of the moment. You both are. But the way he looks at you makes you doubt yourself. You rest your head against his chest, sighing, “We can’t do this.” 

In the end, you were only trying to save your feelings.

“We don’t have to.” He sounds patting your back gently, and you hate it. You hate that he makes it so hard for you to hate him. He’s so tender and patient with you; you hate that you love it. 

“I think you need to go home before we end up doing something we both regret.” You mumble against his chest. 

“Why would I regret it?” he asks. You can feel the vibrations from his voice through his skin.

You lift your head to look at him, stuck on how to answer. “We-“ you open your mouth to speak, but you’re instantly cut off with a kiss.

“I’m exactly where I want to be.” He kisses you again.

Sooner than later, he has you caged in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you with ease. Maybe that was the perks of "dating" a basketball player. 

Slowly, he lays you on your bed. His lips only leave yours to pepper more kisses around your collarbone, trailing all the way down to below your waistline.

Your eyes shoot to the ceiling above you. You're far too shy to watch the other things he does to your body. He's gradually undressing you piece by piece until you are completely naked in front of him. While he remained fully clothed, this made you feel vulnerable and completely open to him. Not many other men could say they've seen you like this, but Eunseok could see all of you. The thought caused your entire body to shudder. Fortunately, he was there to ground you, his larger hands roaming the sheets to find yours as he made your skin heat up.

"Oh goodness, Eunseok." You mutter, biting on your lip.

"How was the dog sitting?" Ningning asks Sohee. You sense a bit of annoyance in her question, but you don't speak about it. 

"I don't wanna talk about it." Sohee deadpans.

Ningning shrugs, "Okay." and turns to you. "How was your weekend?" 

Instantly, you shake your head and look down at your food. "I don't wanna talk about it." Except Ningning doesn't let up on you as quickly as she did Sohee. 

"What happened?" She prods, and thankfully, Sohee steps in. 

"I'll tell you what happened!" He huffs. "Lea asks me to dog sit with her. I do, and then she gets mad at me for paying too much attention to the dog. It's called dog sit, not Lea sit." 

"Have you thought about just breaking up?" Ningning suggests. 

"Yeah, you guys seem to argue a lot." You join in, "which is understandable because you're an idiot, but not even Eunseok and I argue as much as you do. And I ha-"

You trail off when both of your friends stop to look at you. "Hate being away from him. It breaks my soul." You save yourself. 

"Exactly." Sohee pipes up, "The thought of breaking up with her kills me. I love her too much; she's crazy, but she's the only one for me. I'm certain."

"You've been dating for two weeks." Ningning grimaces, and you scoff at the conversation. 

"When you know. You know."

"Right…" The girl nods, shifting her attention towards you. "So, how about you?"

"Me?" You ask for confirmation. "I'm okay. In fact, I couldn't be better. I'm so okay that okay wants to be me."

"Did you and Eunseok get into a fight?" Ningning asks, reading right through your anxious demeanor.

"You didn't break up, did you?" Sohee asks. Almost as if he summoned him, Eunseok slides into the seat next to you. 

"Who's breaking up?" He asks before pressing a soft kiss on your cheek. 

Ningnings eyes remain on you, her eyes squinting as she reads your body language. How you jolt away from him, the awkward smile, the lack of physical touch.  Something's definitely up, and she wants to find out.

"How was your weekend?" She aims her question towards your boyfriend, resting her chin in her palm. 

"My weekend was amazing." He glances back at her. Mentally, you thank him for not making things too obvious, and Ningning curses him for that exact thing. 

"What made it so amazing?" She questions further.

"Um-" "He was able to knock some really important stuff off of his to-do list." You jump in to answer for him. 

Interesting. She thinks. "What was on your to-do list?" She asks.

"Wow, you're asking a lot of questions," He laughs awkwardly, oblivious to the way you're bouncing in anticipation, biting down on your lips until you think you taste blood.

"Yeah, what's with all the questions?" Sohee seconds. 

"I just wanna know the details." Ningning defends, "Unless you have something to hide." 

"We had sex." You blurt shamefully, tucking your head into the crook of Eunseoks neck to shield you from embarrassment. The pressure became too much for you to bear. 

She knew something was up, but she didn't expect to drag that information out of you. "Oh?" she gasps. 

"Me too." Sohee joins, burying his face in his hands. "And we did it in front of the dog." He confesses. You pull your head from Eunseoks shoulder to glare at your best friend. 

"In front of the dog?" You ask and he nods, his bottom lip poked out. 

"I'm not proud of it." 

"You're disgusting." Retorts Ningning, “All of you.” She points to Sohee, "but especially you."

If anyone asked, you'd tell them you were more than confident you could live without caffeine. But realistically, you knew that was a lie. Because you often had days like these where you'd spend all night cramming for a test and wake up a zombie the next day. 

Usually, you'd be responsible enough to make sure you had your credit card on you, but this particular time, you were running on forty minutes of sleep and a dream. 

"Oh, please." You beg the barista, with long copper blonde hair and a weak excuse for a goatee. "I'll do anything. Just this one time, no one has to know." 

The man shrugs carelessly, "There's nothing I can do." 

"Except there is," you whine. "Just this one time." You beg, but your efforts count for nothing as the employee begins to work on other tasks, ignoring you as if you weren't even there. You throw your head back and groan, stomping towards one of the seats and throwing your bag down. 

Not even ten seconds later, you hear someone else enter the cafe, but you don't care enough to lift your head from the palms of your hands. "Hey,' you hear a painfully familiar voice, and you imagine yourself vanishing in thin air.  

"Sorry, I can't talk right now, kinda busy." You mumble into your hands. 

"Doing what?" He chuckles, sliding into the chair in front of you.

"Contemplating suicide." 

"Woah." Sungchan pulls your hands from your face, forcing you to look at him. Close contact usually makes you freeze up, but you're preoccupied at the moment. "Don't talk like that."

"It's a joke." You roll your eyes. "I'm just super exhausted and have a super important test today. I left my wallet at home, and the barista won't give me one free pass, and I haven't had my weekly hang-out with my friends in three weeks." You throw your head down. "I'm gonna lose it, Sungchan, I'm gonna lose it."

"Would it make you feel better if I got you a coffee?" He asks, his hands still hooked around your wrists. 

You lift your chin to face him, eyes lighting up when you ask, "You'd do that? really?"

"It's just a coffee, it's nothing serious." His lips quirk into a bashful smile.

"It's very serious," You murmur, "My future career is on the line."

"Okay, just wait here. I'll be right back." He slips away for just a few minutes before he finds himself back where he started, right in front of you, this time with an iced coffee and a croissant.

"I figured you'd feel better if you had breakfast as well." 

"You're amazing, Sungchan. I owe you one."

"Consider it a favor. You're my teammate's girlfriend. It'd be wrong for me to just leave you here." He murmurs. You both stare at each other for a while. Each wanting to say something but not knowing how to say it or where to start.

Sungchan seems to find the words faster than you do. "I don't want things to be awkward between us." 

"We wouldn't be so awkward if you didn't scare me so much." You scold him, and he laughs. 

"I don't mean to. You just-" He pauses mid sentence.

"I what?" 

"You have to get to class Y/n." Sungchan stands up and places his palm on the center of your head. "You're going to be late." 

"What?" You ask, but he doesn't say anything else before he leaves the cafe, and you're left to try and figure out what just happened.

"Wow, this is a lot of children." You gasp at all six- and seven-year-olds running around Eunseok's family home. 

"It is a children's party." Eunseok remarks.

“Y/n.” Eunseoks little brother runs up to you, wrapping his arms around you when you squat down to meet him at eye level. "You're here."

"Of course." You smile to match his, unaware of the hurdle of children surrounding you until the young boy turns away from you. 

"This is my brother's girlfriend. Look how pretty she is." The boy gloats, and the others take turns showering you with compliments. 

"You have really cool hair." One kid shouts.

"You look like a rockstar." Says another.

"I wanna be like you when I grow up." The last kid speaks, and by now, your cheeks are red. Overwhelmed with compliments, you look up at Eunseok, expecting him to help you. 

He doesn't. He laughs with his arms crossed, amused to see how much the children look up to you. 

They remained huddled around you for a bit longer, each asking you questions and sharing pieces of information about themselves. However, once Mrs. Song called out that the piñata was ready, the kids disappeared from in front of you. 

Eunseok reaches out to help you, and you accept it. Tightening your lips into a line when you're grounded in front of him. 

"I told you everyone likes you." He smiles, interlocking his hands with yours. 

"I should've believed you." You say.

You didn't expect so much to change when you took Eunseok up on his offer. You didn't expect that the gym would be like your second home or that you'd care about basketball all of a sudden. You didn't expect to be standing here at a child's birthday party, being randomly showered with compliments ever so often. Or having one child after another tug on your wrist to join them in yet another activity. 

By the end of the party, you're exhausted, your feet hurt, and your cheeks are numb from smiling too much. Yet your lips remain turned up into a slight permanent smile.

"Looks like you had fun." Eunseok comments once you've reached your apartment door. You nod, and your smile grows.

"I did." You giggle. "Your parents really know how to throw a party."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." He says, swinging one of your arms back and forth. While you use the other to unlock your door.

"I'll see you tomorrow." You hum when the door is open, standing on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "Goodnight Eunseok."

He tightens his hold on your hand before you can get too far from him, pulling you right back. You frown before you speak. 

"My feet hurt, I need to get to bed." You complain, looking down to your shoes. 

"I have a game coming up saturday." He says, fidgety. "I think I'll play better if I had my girlfriend there." 

You roll your eyes, a faint smirk tugging at your lips. You do a weak job of trying to contain the butterflies in your stomach. "I'm not your girlfriend." You laugh, but he's looking at you like he's still waiting for an answer. "If I'm not busy that day, I might stop by." 

You watch his smile grow, and his hand wraps tighter around yours. "Can I go to bed now?" 

"Yeah, of course." He leans down to press his lips against yours. "I'll see you on Saturday then."

"I said I'll think about it, Eunseok." You respond, but you know he isn't listening.

Saturday rolls around, and you find yourself back in the gym. Just as always, it's pretty filled, and you have to push through crowds of people to get to your seat. Ningning trails not too far behind you, both of her hands occupied with the hotdogs she couldn't get the last time. "These are pretty good seats." She says once she takes her seat beside you, both of you leave just enough space for Sohee. 

"Do you see him?" You ask, leaning against Ningning as you scan the area for Eunseok. She shakes her head, mumbling something with her mouth full, but you don't spend too much time trying to figure out what she's saying as your eyes land on the very boy you've been searching for. His back is turned towards you, but you know it's him because of the number thirty-nine that's displayed along the back of his jersey. You can't help the giddiness you feel when you see him. The best you can do is bite your lip, but it doesn't do much to contain your emotions. 

You watch him for a bit longer. Your eyes are trained on him as if he is the only person in the room, And when he turns around to face you, your heart skips a beat, "Oh, there he goes," Ningning nudges you with her elbow. Yet you're too focused on the basketball player in front of you to even register what she's saying. 

'Why didn't you tell me you were here?" Eunseok asks, already pressing a kiss on your lips,

"You seemed busy." You reply, "I didn't wanna interrupt you."

You look away when his coach yells for him, but Eunseoks eyes remain on you. "You're not gonna leave, right?" He asks, and you shake your head. 

"Wish me luck," Eunseok says last as he pulls you into another kiss. 

"Good luck." You hum loud enough for him to hear. You catch his smile before he backs away from you, swiftly making his way towards the floor before the game starts. You're left with a big grin on your face, oblivious to the way your friends watch you.

"What did I just watch?" Sohee asks, breaking you out of your trance.

"When did you get here?" You change the subject unintentionally.

"He got here a while ago." Ningning answers, "You were just too occupied to notice." 

You turn away in embarrassment, searching for anything to distract you. That's when your eyes land on another couple, "Is Lea coming?" You ask

"No, she said since she's not into Eunseok anymore, sports don't really entertain her." Sohee shrugs.

You and Ningning gasp, "Oh?" at the same time. 

"But it's been a while since the three of us hung out, so that's why I'm here." He continues, "Do you think she misses me?"

"Doesn't matter." Ningning shakes her head, "If she missed you that much, she'd be here with you." And just as she wraps up her sentence, Lea plops down right on Sohee's lap. 

"Great." Your friend sucks her teeth, glaring at you.

You watch Sohee's smile grow and see as they break off into their own conversation. Both of them forget that you and Ningning were even there. That's how it stays throughout the entire evening; the two of them remain wrapped up in eachother while you watch Eunseok on the floor.

Your eyes are stuck on his every move. It's almost magnetic. Every so often, his head would shoot up in your direction, and he'd lock eyes with you. 

When the game ends, you're the first person he looks for. A wide grin is evident on his face as he effortlessly lifts you in his arms and collapses his lips onto yours. For a second, it feels like it's just you and him, but you're harshly reminded of the crowd surrounding you when you hear his dad's voice. You scream and slide off of Eunseok, shielding your face in his chest. They proceed to have a short conversation, but you're too busy burying yourself in your own embarrassment to hear anything they're saying. 

You know the conversation is over when Mr Song squeezes your shoulder and wishes you a farewell. "He's gone," Eunseok whispers against your ear, but you only shake your head. 

"I want to die." You mutter against him, to which he simply laughs and wraps you into a bear hug. 

Eunseok quickly changes his clothes after telling your friends that he wants to be the one to take you home. Neither of them found an issue with it since Sohee wanted to stay with Lea, and Ningning had her Netflix series to catch up on. 

It's almost pitch dark. The wind blows through your hair as you walk towards your apartment, presumably. If it weren't for the fact that Eunseok was holding your hand, you would've already wrapped your arms around yourself to preserve your warmth. 

Without asking, Eunseok slips his hand from yours to wrap his jacket around. You let out a sigh of relief at the newfound warmth, but that's when you realize this isn't the way to your apartment.

"Where are we going?" You ask, halting as you look around.

"There's a party-"Eunseok begins to explain.

"I don't want to go to a party. I wanna go home." You whine. He pulls you closer when you attempt to pull away from him.

"I'll pay you." He bribes you, but you shake your head. 

"That's not gonna work this time." You try once again to back away, and just as before, he pulls you right back. Only this time, he wraps his arms around you.

"Then do it for me. I just made it through the finals, and as my girlfriend, I think you should reward me."

"Pretend, girlfriend." You correct him, "I don't owe you anything."

"Actually, you do; it's your duty to appear as my real girlfriend." His growing smile sends shivers down your spine, "What will people think if I show up alone?"

"Whatever they want." You shrug, "It's not my reputation at stake." 

"You're so stubborn." He laughs, pulling you along with him. 

The "party" could be classified as a hangout. Most of Eunseoks' teammates are there, including Seunghan, Shotaro, Anton, and a few other people you've seen around campus. Despite the low crowd, you still cling to Eunseok. He doesn't seem to mind it as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, holding you closer than you already were. 

The music was just a few notches below what you'd consider too loud, and surprisingly, it didn't smell like sweat and alcohol. On the contrary, the scent of the room was quite pleasant. As Eunseok converses with some of his friends, your eyes wander around the space. You notice the seventies-inspired decor, the record player tucked in the corner, and a life-sized sculpture of the school mascot standing beside it. But It's the pool table that catches your eye. 

You turn away from Eunseok as you watch the crowd surrounding the table. Each of them places a twenty dollar bill on the stool beside the table before they start the game, and you can't help but watch, knowing that you'd win if you were given the opportunity.

The players are in their element, the cue sticks gliding like silk in their hands as they aim for the vibrant balls on the table. The sharp crack of the cue ball against the others reverberates through the room as precise shots are made, and the players exchange confident smiles and spirited banter. 

The anticipation in the air is palpable as the game reaches a crucial point. The onlookers lean in their expressions, reflecting the tension of the game. As you watch, you feel the excitement building, imagining yourself stepping up to the table, calculating angles, and planning your shots with precision. 

As the game draws to a close, the victorious player triumphantly pockets the final ball, claiming the prize money. The room erupts to cheers and applause. "Do you wanna play?" Eunseoks voice breaks you out of your trance. You blink up at him and shake your head, but he can see right through you.

Swiftly he pulls you along to the table, and sits a twenty dollar bill on the stool. "You'll do great" he says followed by a kiss to your temple. Eunseok slides his hand out of yours, and backs away from you.

You gingerly picked up the cue stick, feeling the smooth wooden surface in your hand, and carefully applied chalk to its tip. Your eyes surveyed the arrangement of colorful balls, already visualizing each shot in your mind. With a sense of determination, you leaned over the table, your gaze fixed on the target. The world around you seemed to slow down as you prepared to take your shot, your mind calculating the angles and forces needed for a successful strike.

Taking a deep breath, you executed your shot with precision and finesse. The cue ball glided across the felt, expertly striking the others in a harmonious dance as the balls ricocheted off one another, following the calculated path you had envisioned. 

The game progressed with a steady rhythm, the players engaging in friendly banter and playful teasing as they vied for dominance. Every successful shot garnered a mix of applause and good natured ribbing, enhancing the camaraderie and a sense of shared enjoyment. The room was filled with warmth of shared fun and spirit of healthy competition. 

You step up when it becomes your turn again, lifting your stick and sliding down the table just centimeters before the cue ball. You take your shot. The satisfying thud as it made contact with the colored balls echoed through your ears. Your hands flew up when the last ball found its pocket. 

The first person you look for is Eunseok. You throw your arms around him, and he wraps his around your waist, hoisting you into the air. When you slide off of him, he holds your hand open to place the prize money in the center of your palm. "It's all yours." He murmurs. 

You scoff playfully, trying your best to suppress a smile. "You're so cute." 

"We're still not friends." You blurt. 

Eunseok grins, "I thought that was obvious," he says. "I mean, friends don't do what we did." 

He's amused with how your cheeks flush red and how speechless you've become. You don't even bother trying to come up with some snarky remark. Instead, you mutter, "Shut up." and Eunseok laughs. 

The sound of basketballs bouncing against the waxed floor meets your ears the second you walk into the gym. You smile softly when you catch sight of Eunseok. You throw your bag off to the side and take a seat, watching as he bounces the ball around before he takes his shot. That pattern continues a few more times before you make a noise to let him know you're there. 

Eunseok turns around immediately, an involuntary smile approaching his face. He runs over to you with the basketball in his hand. He's sweaty, and his hair is stuck to his forehead, but none of it bothers you. You still grin when he approaches you.

"Why did you call me here?" you ask teasingly.

He doesn't answer your question at first; he just kisses you, and you kiss him back. "If I make this, you have to let me be your boyfriend." He says, and you can't help but smile.

You don't get to say anything before he's running away from you and towards the court. He bounces the ball longer than he should, and just when he goes to shoot, he misses. You giggle to yourself but bite your lip when he turns to look at you. You get up, walk towards him, and wrap your arms around his abdomen, "You don't need to shoot a basketball to ask me to be your girlfriend, weirdo."

"I thought it'd be less embarrassing to miss than it would be for you to reject me." He says, defeated.

"Who said I would reject you?" 

You watch his eyes light up right before he leans down to kiss you, wrapping his arms around your waist and sweeping you off your feet. 

[writinginpinkpink]

The Price of Life. [0.2]

homelander x fem!reader

summary: Homelander saved you and gave you life, but with one rule: be utterly loyal to him. Despite this, you went beyond mere obedience and provided him with what he needed most: love.

warnings: homelander, violence, swearing, smut (eventually), a bit of stockholm syndrome?

masterlist | requests open! | previous | next

You exited the bathroom and entered a room that looked Fourth of July-themed. You found Homelander sitting at a table nearby, with clothes and some papers laid out in front of him.

Intimidated and unsure of how to act around him, you realized that the clothes (your uniform) were meant for you since you were still wrapped in a towel and your old clothes were covered in blood.

"Thank you," you whispered, reaching for the clothes and feeling exposed. But when you tried to grab them, he placed his hands on top of yours, stopping you.

"This is your uniform, YN. Wear it. I don't want to see you walking around in civilian clothes anymore," he said, his piercing eyes looking deep into your soul. He smiled and spoke through gritted teeth, "Remember, we are more. Better."

"Yes, sir," you replied, feeling stupid for calling him that, but anything else felt like disrespect.

"I want you to sit down first," he said, patting the chair beside him. "It's important for you to sign some papers first. You know how the legalities work. It's just confirming that we are in a relationship." He waved his hand dismissively as if it were nothing.

As you sat down, it didn't feel like a suggestion to sign the papers; it felt like an order. You didn't feel the right to properly read the terms before signing your name on the line beside his name, which had already been signed, taking up the most space.

"Sure thing," you said, getting up and finally grabbing your uniform. This time, he let you take it and watched as you fast-walked to the bathroom, holding your clothes close to your chest.

The second time you exited the bathroom, you found Homelander sitting on his bed, staring at the wall. As soon as you entered the room, his eyes followed you. He hurried you to sit with him, and only when you got closer did you notice the hairbrush in his hand.

Feeling confused but compliant, you did as he demanded without questioning. Second thoughts crossed your mind, but you quickly dismissed them, knowing better than to indulge in anything against Homelander's wishes.

"You know, YN," he began, carefully untangling your wet hair. "I'm happy that we are a family now. Tomorrow, we will announce it at The Seven reunion, as well as to the public. I just wanted to remind you that since you are blood of my blood now, there will be no mercy in case of betrayal." He started brushing your hair more roughly. You felt the stinging pain but bit your lips and listened closely to his words. "Don't disappoint me," he said as he got up and tossed the brush onto your lap.

"You can finish it yourself," he added before leaving the room. "Oh, and now you sleep here, with me. You know, like a couple." He shut the door behind him.

-

You were basically dissociating during the whole reunion, only saying a few things here and there but keeping most of it to yourself. Your head shot up when you heard Homelander call your name, knowing this was your cue to stand up and make the announcement.

"Me and YN have something to announce," he said, patting your shoulder roughly. "We are in a relationship." He smiled, and you made sure to smile too.

You didn't really hear what he was saying about your relationship as his hands encircled your waist. Your eyes found Annie, her gaze full of something you couldn't quite name—maybe rage, disappointment, or confusion.

As he dismissed everyone, you headed to Homelander's room—well, now your room too—but you were stopped by Annie, who pushed you aside and half-whispered, "What are you doing? Are you insane?" She placed her hands on both your shoulders. "Do you need help getting out of this? Is he forcing you to do anything?"

"Oh my God, Starlight," you said, dropping her hands from your shoulders. "No one can force me to do anything. I'm just sick of this whole Butcher thing, and you should be too. Look at yourself, betraying your own race. I just woke up and realized that I'm better than this."

You walked away, leaving Annie speechless. Yes, you may have changed quickly, but you didn't lie to her. You felt ashamed for killing supes in the past. They might have done bad things, but all supes have had a hard time.

As you walked toward your new room, you realized that for the first time in a long time, someone saw potential in you, someone saved you, and someone was taking care of you. And it wasn't Butcher, it wasn't Starlight, not even Hughie. Homelander was the one making sure you knew your worth.

And you weren't going to wrong him the same way as everyone else in his life.

[pomefioredove]

OH MY SEVEN! PLEASE I NEED A PART 2 OF MC GETTING BOUGHT BY NBC (or maybe they get bought by rsa? By like Chenya or Neige?)

part two of the NBC ending is here! very intrigued by the idea of an RSA ending, especially since our knowledge is limited. I also kin snow white so maybe I have a little soft spot for neige.

bonus: I had to stop writing this to save another animal that got inside. second time this week.

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | 'bad' ending

summary: yuu transfers to RSA type of post: short fic characters: neige, chenya additional info: yuu is gender neutral, pretty platonic

This entire ordeal had been nothing if not shady.

From the purpose, to the "donations", to the absence of the prefect themselves...

...And now, the grand announcement- that of which Crowley had been hyping up for days- was cancelled.

"I don't get it," Epel murmurs, walking on a sideways footpath back to the hall of mirrors. "You really think he just took all the money and ran?"

Vil huffs, the disappointment heavy in his voice. "Well, it certainly seems that way. No one's seen him all day,"

Despite the sour mood over the trio of Pomefiore students, the day is bright and sunny. Birds sang, the sun shone, even the wind carried a suspiciously merry tune with it.

"We should not give up hope so soon. Anything could happen," Rook ponders. "Who knows? The day is not over yet."

"I'm starting to wish it was," Vil says. "It's far too jovial for such an underwhelming afternoon. And the whole purpose of this walk was to clear our minds... hmph."

Epel squints ahead, taking in the way beams of sunlight seem to shine through the foliage, casting rays of gold over the usually darker campus.

"Y'know, I betcha- I-I mean, I think you might be onto something. It is unusually cheery today, isn't it?"

Vil huffs. "Wonderful. Nature itself mocks me,"

"Non, it's not the climate which has changed... it's more of a presence. Monsieur Pommette is correct," Rook says. "Something has shifted here."

Vil rolls his eyes, not exactly in the mood to be playing word games with Rook again. He shoots a glare to Epel, warning the boy not to encourage him, and a silence falls over the three.

Though... he still cannot deny that something feels aloof. Something that isn't sitting right with him...

He sighs. "Perhaps we should check on the prefect. Just in case,"

And so the three stop in their tracks and awkwardly, though hurriedly, walk to Ramshackle.

Nothing is quite amiss about the building itself, though, still, there's something hazy and dreamlike about it. A warm, golden glow that turns the rough and brittle exterior into a quaint and charming home, full of light.

"I don't like this," Epel murmurs. Vil does not respond, but he understands. He's having similar thoughts.

Just as they're about to enter, someone tall and dark steps outside.

"Crowley!" all three snap, in varying tones of voice.

The man goes stiff and, for a moment, looks as if he's about to make a run for it- though he thankfully holds his ground. "Ah- good afternoon, dear pupils. Having a... studiful day?"

"That's not a word," Vil crosses his arms and glares. "Why are you here?"

"I was... well... just discussing some things... with... the prefect..."

He sounds utterly nervous.

Vil's eyes narrow. "What are you hiding?"

Before he can answer, the door behind him opens again, and you peer outside, giving Crowley a chance to escape. "Guys?"

"Trickster! We are relieved to see you in good health!"

"Hm? Why wouldn't I be?"

Epel shakes his head. "W-well, you just haven't been around much, and we saw Crowley- hey, where'd he go?"

Vil grumbles something indistinct, massaging his temples. "That man..." he sighs. "But back to business. Are you well? What's happened?"

You look away. "Well-"

Thankfully, before you have to explain it yourself, the door opens wider, leaving the Pomefiore trio face-to-face with the one person they least expected to see.

Neige beams. "Oh, my... hello, Vil! I didn't think I'd run into you here!"

The housewarden's eyes immediately narrow, and it takes him a moment to respond. "Yes, well, as you know, I go to school here. Would anyone care to explain this?"

A voice from behind the trio echoes. "Oh, I volunteer!"

Epel squeaks and jumps (much to his embarrassment) and the other two whirl around to an ever-smiling face they can't quite recall...

"See, we're on the moving squad," Che'nya giggles, slinking back to the front door of Ramshackle. "You wanna know why? I'm sure you're just dying with curiosity, aren't you?"

"I can put the pieces together myself, thank you," Vil murmurs. "But I do have a few questions."

Che'nya opens his mouth wide again-

"-Not for you," he turns to you. "How? And why, exactly?"

You shrug, looking to Neige for help.

Which he gladly provides, of course. "Well... it was more of a school decision. We heard what was happening, and held a vote," he says, speaking tentatively while under Vil's astute gaze. "We've heard lots about how much your prefect has helped here, and how unfortunate their circumstances are, and... well..."

"A person like that just doesn't go to NRC," Che'nya snickers.

Vil glares for a moment longer, and then sighs. "Well... this is certainly a turn of bad luck for the lot of us,"

"But I can visit!" you insist.

Neige and Che'nya both nod in agreement, though the latter's placid smile makes his approval seem less genuine.

"Well," Vil says, turning to the boys beside him. "Don't you two have anything to say?"

Epel clears his throat, trying his best to sound light and formal. "I think it's... it's... I'll miss you," he sulks.

"A magnifique opportunity! Think how much you will learn, how many new people you will meet- oh, you must allow me to visit often! I could not bear to let you make all these beautiful discoveries on your own!" Rook says, dabbing the corner of his eyes with a handkerchief.

"Why am I not surprised?" Vil sighs. "Well... I suppose I have a duty to inform the others. And, perhaps..."

He pauses, his watchful gaze fixed on you.

"...We might hold a vote of our own."

[teamred]

re: your tags - I am dying to know about your Wade’s sister!reader x Logan fic, omg that sounds so fun 👀💖

-@eupheme

omg hi j!!! @eupheme (gonna tag you in case the ask post doesn't do it)

i actually have two wade's sister!reader x logan fics in the works! i hope you don't mind me sharing both~

the one i was referring to in my tags is called "dusk till dawn".

summary: vanessa is kidnapped, so while wade runs off to save her, he assigns logan to be reader's bodyguard. however, they don't get along, but they start to fall for each other over time.

it'd be a road trip/motel hopping au with lots of banter, sharing one bed, tension, angst, and steamy moments of course 👀

i'm taking inspiration from some of the moments with logan and mariko from the wolverine (2013) movie!

i'd love to share snippets, but it's really in the draft stages right now!!

second fic i have is called "can't help myself" (title tentatitive)

summary: wade only has one rule for logan: his sister is completely off-limits. but of course, logan never plays by the rules, and you couldn't give two shits about what your dumb-ass brother says.

this one would be more of a fun fic!! just like messing with wade but also having fun with logan and lowkey falling for him too

lots of dialogue, especially with wade, smut, fluff, etc. just a vibes fic

wouldn't be as long as the other fic - i wrote quite a bit for this already! here's a snippet of the intro:

“Don't look at her,” Wade paces around his apartment’s living room, listing the things Logan, his new roommate, should avoid when he meets his sister tomorrow. “Don't breathe in her presence, don't even think about her, and especially don't—” 

“What, ya gonna tell me I can’t fuck her next?” Logan cuts in with an amused chuckle, reclining on the living room couch with a hand above his head. 

“Yes, bingo!” Wade exclaims, pointing at him excitedly. “Exactly that, you geriatric sexy vampire. Or should I technically say vampire hunter?” He pauses, wondering for a moment. 

“Anyways,” he continues, “you can have any woman you want in this new universe—hell, I’ll cry my heart out every night after my evening jerk-off seshes, but you can even have Vanessa—but my sister? We’re gonna have a repeat of the Honda Odyssey fight, Wolvie, and that won’t be a pretty sight to see.” 

“Okay,” Logan replies, getting up from the couch and heading toward the kitchen. “I’ll make sure to fuck your sister until she forgets the fact that she's your sister. Got it.” 

“Hey!” Wade smacks him on the back as he’s bent over, trying to grab a beer from the fridge. A low growl escapes from him. “I’m being serious here.” 

“When are you ever serious?” Logan asks, popping off the beer cap with his thumb. 

“Now! I am being serious now.” Wade’s voice rises before he takes a second to compose himself, closing his eyes and inhaling slowly. Logan watches him carefully, sipping his beer. 

“Please, Logan,” he barely whispers, avoiding eye contact. 

The silence, punctuated only by Logan’s sipping, feels uncomfortable and heavy. Finally, Logan lets out a sigh.

“Fine,” he grunts. “I won’t get involved with your sister.” 

Wade breaks into a relieved smile and extends his pinky. “You promise?” 

Despite Logan rolling his eyes and shaking his head, he ends up hooking his pinky around Wade’s, sealing the deal.

Except Wade doesn’t see Logan’s other hand behind his back, with his middle and index fingers crossed over another.