#plus I doubt anyone would bother

[thatlonelycactus]

I’m going to sound literally insane but I have a theory about what the “ineffable plan” might be. Is it right? Probably not but my fevered brain feels like it has some merit to it.

Anyway, in the book Crowley suggests that “Maybe it's all part of a great big ineffable plan. All of it. You, me, him, everything. Some great big test to see if what you've built all works properly, eh? You start thinking: it can’t be a great cosmic game of chess, it has to be just very complicated Solitaire.” and it is a quote that I’m quite sad didn’t make it into the show (I’m pretty sure). But back onto todays nonsensical rant: my proposal is- what if the Almightys plan is to try to make people/celestial/occult beings realize they need to work together and move away from the binary of being right or wrong. It links two of the major (imo) themes of the story in that a) it’s about connection and love and that and b) there’s no such thing as “good” or “bad” on a moral scale, there’s only shades of grey. What if the Almighty let the fall happen (as Crowley says earlier in the exchange mentioned earlier: “why did it happen, eh? I mean, it didn’t have to, did it?… Anyone who could build a universe in six days isn’t going to let a little thing like that happen. Unless they want it to, of course.”) to not only let the angels experience free will but to also let them learn, to work together, to love, to grow. What if they laced humans on earth with their range of morals beliefs, etc and showed how they, even when they are self declared enemies, can still work together? The most prominent point for the second idea is the bonds between Newt and Anathema, Shadwell and Madame Tracey, Beez and Gabriel, and obviously, Aziraphale and Crowley. I’ll talk about the witch/witch-hunter pairs first because I think the big thing here is that it all starts with humanity. Newt was essentially pulled into being a witch-hunter through circumstance, he never had any hatred for Anathema or any witch for that matter, it all just kinda happened (remind you of anyone sauntering vaguely downward???) but they’re both quick to accept the other for who they are. Shadwell took a little bit more time to realize that Madame Tracey was neither a witch nor evil. He just had to realize that they were both human and that she was, well, that she was kind. After realizing this, Shadwell began to change (def for the better), he left an order he had been with since the 60s because he realsied it was outdated and pretty much pointless in the scheme of everything, of humanity. I bring these two pairs because they remind me slightly of Aziraphale and Crowley, and Beez and Gabriel respectively. I won’t go into too much more detail but these relationships show that the hatred between heaven and hell is arbitrary, angels and demons aren’t hereditary enemies, they don’t even have to be enemies, they just decided that’s what they needed to be. These relationships prove that there’s more than just good and evil because I don’t think that any of us would refer to either Crowley or Beelzebub as “evil” nor Aziraphale or Gabriel as purely “good”. That’s what the Almighty is trying to get everyone to understand that there is no good, there is no evil, there’s just US and that’s the only side worth fighting for.

I have so many reasons why this can’t be the ineffable plan but yeah. Anyway that leaves me with one question: why did they do any of it? Whats the point of starting a 6000 year long conflict to show that the way you’d started it all out was best even though you were the one who ruined it? Whats the point of creating an entire universe and then planning to destroy it to prove this point?

Unless the universe was the apple in Eden.

Thats what makes it ineffable

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 17] Father and Son

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Satoru tries to make up for the past four years of Ren’s life in a matter of weeks. His focus drastically changes, from his work to his son. He ignores the matter of so many people knowing before him, he avoids his mother and his so-called friends. His main and only priority is his son.

You both wish you could say that your relationship has gotten better, but you don’t really speak to each other unless it’s about the son you share. You’re hopeless that it’ll progress past what you have. Neither of you have the courage to bring up the situation, either way, your attention should be on Ren. 

Ren is finally meeting the man that he’s been dreaming of, and he’s getting to know his father after four years. You’re mostly excited for your son, while also regretting hiding it when you had the chance to tell him. Your relationship is the last thing on your mind– It’s certainly the last thing in Satoru’s mind.

He visits daily, bearing many gifts for his son. Satoru has become a regular at the toy store, buying something each day for his son, something that he thinks Ren would like. He hopes that material stuff will make up for the time wasted. Sometimes he brings some candy, but he doesn’t do it often. Satoru is still his father, he can’t just spoil him rotten, he also has to care for Ren’s wellbeing. He’s slowly growing accustomed to becoming a parent.

“What’s this, Ren?” Satoru holds up a cute white cat plush, one that Satoru always finds on the bed. He wonders if that’s the toy his son has had ever since he was a baby, he guesses it is since Satoru feels like he’s seen it in the background of a picture before.

“It’s whiskers.” Ren answers, taking the plush from his father and putting it back on the bed. That’s before he turns to other matters. Ren doesn’t mind sharing his toys (because you’ve been the one raising him), but whiskers is someone that Ren doesn’t like anyone touching. Anyone and anything can get the toy dirty, and when that happens, you refuse to let the toy on the bed, at least not before you wash it and get it clean again.

Satoru doesn’t bother to ask if that’s the plush that he sleeps with, because that’s most certainly a yes. Ren wants to talk about other important matters though so Satoru gives his undivided attention to his son. Ren then asks, “Are you sleeping over?”

“Uhm… No.” Satoru answers. You most certainly wouldn’t want that. Plus, Satoru has a wife at home who has her suspicions that something is going on. He doubts that she’ll care too much, but he wants to keep Ren protected from the world. If Sayo finds out, so does her family, and if her family knows, the whole world will know. “But I’ll stay until you fall asleep, Ren.”

“I want you to stay.” Ren sticks out his bottom lip, obviously disappointed that his father isn’t staying for the night. You let him on your bed all the time and you sleep together, why can’t he do the same thing with his father? Satoru can’t help but feel bad, so he thinks of how to respond to cheer him up.

You commented how you had plans of going on a small trip with Ren before summer ended, but summer evidently has come to an end. It’s colder now and the leaves are changing color. Satoru finally decides, “We can go on a trip soon, and we’ll be together all day every day.”

“Really?” The little boy’s eyes light up, making the biggest smile come to Satoru’s lips. Satoru now wonders how he was ever happy without him– Well, with you… But that memory slowly fades away since your relationship is now filled with awkwardness. Satoru nods his head in response. He can lie and make it a business trip, it’s not an issue for him really.

“We’ll have to talk to your mommy first, honey. Then we can plan it all.” Satoru answers, and Ren turns around to go look for you. Satoru feels awkward sitting alone on a bed that’s far too low and small for him. He stands up and follows Ren. They both look for you around the apartment until they land in your bedroom. The bathroom door is closed, and Ren immediately knows what to do.

Ren opens the door to the bathroom, and you immediately make eye contact with Satoru. Your face grows hot of embarrassment, and obviously Ren doesn’t see an issue with it. Ren’s issue is when he actually steps into the bathroom, and he just has to comment, “It stinks.”

“Yeah, I wonder why. Get out, Ren, and close the door!” You raise your voice, your embarrassment getting the best of you. Ren closes the door, leaving you to it, and Satoru chuckles. He ruffles Ren’s hair as both walk out of your bedroom.

“You gotta learn how to knock, baby. Give your mommy some privacy.” Satoru says, but it goes one ear out the other. Ren isn’t going to knock, you’re his mommy. If you want your privacy you better lock the door. They take a seat in the living room, where Ren grabs the remote to put on a movie. He knows how to get the movie he wants, even when he’s just learning how to read and spell.

“Where do you want to go?” Satoru asks, wondering where his son wants to go. Ren drops the remote on the couch, putting his tiny index finger on his chin, humming and tilting his head to the side as he thinks of the answer. 

“The beach.” Ren answers, but it’s cold. They can go out of the country though, go somewhere warm. He needs to talk to you first, of course. When you finally walk out of your bedroom (after mentally cursing your son for not having any manners when others are around), you go to the living room to see what they needed.

“What did you need, Ren?” You ask, and he looks excitedly at you. Satoru is the one that speaks up for him though,

“We want to go on a trip, can we?” You almost laugh since Satoru sounds like a hopeful child.

“Where are you two going?” You respond. You can’t really say no because Satoru is supposed to have equal authority as Ren’s father.

“Ren wants to go to the beach.” Satoru answers, Ren nodding in agreement. You cross your arms, your brows furrowing.

“It’s too cold to go to the beach, do you not have any other place in mind?” You point out, making Ren pout. The pout doesn’t last long though since Satoru says,

“We can go to another country. Somewhere warm with better beaches.” You’re certainly not convinced since you doubt you’re part of the plan. You’re not letting your baby boy in another country without you– Well, technically he’d be with his father, but you’re still not convinced. Until Satoru says, “Of course, you’re included! I doubt Ren would go anywhere without you.”

“I wouldn’t.” Ren affirms, and you laugh. 

“If you plan everything, then sure. We can go on a trip. You need to give me time off though– Paid time.” You say, and Satoru nods in response. He does pretty much everything you ask of him, and you certainly can’t complain about it. Ren focuses on putting on one of his favorite movies, and you begin to walk to the kitchen, asking, “Are you staying for dinner, Satoru?”

“Yeah.” Satoru answers. He’d definitely rather eat here with his son and you than dine alone at home. He helps Ren put the movie on, and they both begin to watch the movie. He’s watched this movie around five times the past week, and to be honest, Satoru is sick of it. But he’ll watch it because Ren loves it. 

He’s grateful when you call his name, and he has to tell Ren that you need him, so he can’t stay to watch the movie. Satoru walks to the kitchen, and he finds you trying to reach something that’s far too high for you. Satoru’s eyes land on the white bowl and he reaches for it before handing it to you. You mutter a thank you, and you expect him to go back to Ren, but he doesn’t. You then tell him, “That’s all I need from you, you can go.”

“Do you need help with anything else? You know I love Ren but… I’m sick of that movie.” Satoru answers, earning a chuckle from you. You think about what he can do for a moment, and he patiently waits for you to answer.

“You can make the salad, and then set the table.” You respond, and you think you’ll regret it for a moment. Satoru has had everything done for him, he probably doesn’t know how to cut a cucumber; but then you remember that he lived alone for some time, he had to cook for himself for a while. Satoru immediately gets to work, opening the fridge to get all the vegetables that he needs. He looks around the cabinets and drawers for the cutting board and knife, and he quietly begins to cut the vegetables.

“Have you talked to Shoko?” Satoru asks, washing the lettuce throughout. Pretty much everything is wrong between the two of you, but you can’t just stand in awkward silence every single day. You have to talk to each other, after all, you doubt you’ll stop seeing each other.

“I haven’t. I’m not going to for a while.” You reply. In Satoru’s eyes, she did nothing wrong. He’s glad that Shoko told him, otherwise, he probably wouldn’t be with Ren. But in a sense, he understands why you don’t want to talk to her. “Tell her to stop calling my phone because I’m not going to answer. I’ll call her when I’m ready.”

“I’m not really talking to her either.” He responds.

“Is it because she has the hots for your wife?” You blurt out, and you bite your tongue the moment the words leave your lips. Satoru’s brows raise, definitely surprised by your words. You can’t be serious, can you? Before he can ask more questions about it, you change the topic, “Speaking of… When are you going to tell Sayo about Ren? She’s your wife, she has to find out eventually.”

“Maybe after our trip… I’m not sure how to tell her.” Satoru shares, and you understand that it’s a tough situation. He has to figure out a way to tell his wife of almost five years that he had a kid that’s almost five– And he never cheated, he just found out about him. This was all before their marriage. It’s definitely hard. Satoru clears his throat, mustering up the courage to ask about Suguru, someone else that he has been ignoring. “So… How are you and Suguru? Are you still seeing each other?”

“We’ve been busy, but we’re still… Talking.” You answer. You won’t lie and say that you don’t feel nauseous every time you talk to him, your heart nearly beating out of your chest for the simple fact that you lied to him. He has to find out that you lied eventually. “Have you talked to him?”

“I’m not talking to him. I’ve been ignoring him. I’ve been ignoring everyone.” Satoru responds. He puts the knife down, watching you as you begin to cook. He bites down his lip, holding back on saying a couple of things that are on his mind. About this situation, about you and Suguru, maybe an apology. Satoru has been a complete mess with so many things going in his mind, but not voicing any of them. He does have to ask one question though, “Is Ren the reason why you quit school?”

“Yeah…” You feel embarrassed to say it. “I couldn’t afford both. It was either my baby or school, and that was an easy choice.”

“Sorry…” He mutters, and it’s barely audible but you hear it. You don’t really pay attention to it, in the end it was your decision. Given the option, you’d do it all over again. 

[lily-radiance]

Hazbin Hotel idea

- Fallen-Angel reader(Fem) x Alastor

The reader is doubting Heaven's actions and decides to take a trip to Hell to see for herself.

- Disagrees with the idea of senseless carnage but understands life is not so simple and split in two.

- Charlie, of course, takes her in, although she does not know the reader is an angel. The reader at first doubts the redemption idea but begins to see the vision.

- Reader is not a fan of Lucifer for many reasons, but mainly because he "betrayed" Heaven, and his relationship with Lilith/Charlie is strained.

- Imagine Hell's greatest Dad, but instead of y'know the whole dad part, Lucifer and Alastor are trying to make you pick a side.

- Alastor, chaotic as usual, tries to get the reader to accept being fallen and doesn't want her to go back. She tells him about her 'predicament' before anyone else, and you better believe he wants to fight the angels for you. He tells Charlie and the others about everything because he knows you won't do it yourself. You obviously get mad. Like big mad.

- In your spiral, he sees your wings at their total capacity, and your shaken demeanor has them changing from white to black at a high rate.

- Vox and Valentino get the terrible idea to hold you for ransom against Alastor and Angel Dust, and they do not go unpunished. Vox makes several derogatory comments about your "holier than thou image," Alastor won't let him get away with it. When it comes to you, he has no problem with your lineage, and honestly, he finds it charming that an angel of all creatures would fall for him.

One of your wings gets injured, and unsurprisingly, it happens to be one of the only angelic wings left. (Say the top and bottom wings on each side are black while the middle two are white?) You used to dye your wings to hide your angelic nature, but with an injury present, it is the least of your concerns. Alastor refuses to let you fly while in recovery, and he has to deal with your pouting. When you do heal, he's still weary, always accompanying you in case you need a helping hand.

"Al, I can fly on my own! Look, my wing is healed!"

"No."

"C'mon, just one lap around the hotel!"

"No."

- Husk thinks you're pretty chill company and likes to vent when you have nothing to do. Sure, he can't say much about Alastor without fearing for his soul, but when he can, the conversations are never dull. If you make him laugh, you'll never let him forget it.

- Angel and Nifty constantly tease you about your infatuation with a particular radio demon. Don't expect any worthwhile advice, even if it means no harm. Charlie really wants to see you and Al together, but she might need to be reminded about boundaries.

- Angel Dust once tried to hit on you to see what would happen and nearly got thrown into next week.

- When he says "Good Girl" to Charlie, you can't help but blush and be a little jealous. He isn't afraid to use the phrase to fluster you on purpose, although you would prefer he not.

- If you wear makeup/do your nails, he will be fascinated. He doesn't say anything because once, he spooked you and made you jump, ruining it. The next hour was spent with him memorizing every detail of your designs in case of another mistake. If he scares you again, it's his job to redo everything. Except for mascara. Never mascara.

- Chess and poker games when the staff has downtime. He will use his shadows to help you cheat, but only if he's not playing with you. Husk knows but says nothing.

- If you're listening to music with earbuds, he will occasionally slow the signal so he can bother you. At first, you were annoyed, but realized it was his odd way of communication. Plus, he still hates technology. (You will purposely play "Video Killed The Radio Star" to get him back.)

"Would you kindly stop playing that infernal song, my dear?"

"Not until you stop interrupting my music."

- The Egg Bois love you, that's no surprise. They always ask about you when being watched by Alastor. The radio demon has come to accept the many questions by now, but the first time, he wanted to spit out his coffee. You think fondly of the memory, occasionally bringing it up to lighten the mood.

"Are you and Mom fighting?"

- When you get into disagreements, expect a few dozen bouquets of white roses in your room. He's terrible at expressing emotions other than murderous intent, and Charlie does what she can to help. You're both stubborn, but it gets too exhausting to keep up the act, and eventually, someone has to cave. (Charlie isn't afraid to wear her horns when confronting him, and if he tries to avoid apologizing, Lucifer will make a daily phone call to annoy him.)

"Hey asshole, talk to your girlfriend, it's upsetting my daughter. Also, you suck."

- Regarding the Extermination day, you try your best to fight the Angelic invasion but struggle. Alastor is stuck between keeping you and the Hotel safe. When Adam nearly beats him, you don't know he's alive, but his reappearance at the new and improved hotel is a welcome sight. He's a little rattled that he almost died, but seeing you safe is enough to keep him going. He might be a tad crazier, but you love him to pieces anyway as you run up and hug him. Typically, he despises physical contact, but coming from you, he doesn't mind, even going so far as to hug you back.

"I assure you that I'm alright, mon cher."

"Are you sure, Al, because that was a difficult fight. Wait—your voice!"

The radio demon takes a moment to realize that without his staff, his voice is clearer than before.

"Oh, you must mean the radio feedback is gone. Yes, I suppose you've never heard my regular voice. I had forgotten what it sounded like. How is it?

"It sounds lovely. I couldn't imagine a better fit."

"I should return the compliment; that is what a proper gentleman does. Your wings look lovely as ever, (Y/N)."

You look over your shoulder to see the feathers no longer entirely black, but back to their ivory shade. A few straggled feathers remain, but you don't mind, overjoyed.

In the middle of your undeniably cute interaction, the rest of the staff is watching. It isn't until Husk interrupts with "get a room" that you two get the hint.

Bonus:

Ruffle this tall disaster's hair. He might complain, but he loves it.

Are you feeling extra crazy? Boop him. Just boop the nose. He will do the same to you.

[backmuscles21]

You're Supposed To Be Ours

Recoms x Reader

Summary: You are an RDA chemist, you have caught the eyes of all the recoms. They can be a little possessive. So, when they see you talking with someone else, they need to teach you your place and where you belong. Warnings: smut, belly bulge, size kink, begging, spanking, orgasm denial/delay, punishment, possessive behaviour, sub/dom undertones

You came to Pandora as a chemist, they needed you to run tests on water, plants, rocks, and other elements. Basically, what they wanted you to do was make a periodic table for the things on Pandora.

Easier said than done.

However, you did love your job and you loved the planet. One thing you loved the most about your job was the new relationship you started. You have an avatar body for when you go on missions to collect samples to test and figure out their composition. Since you have a trillion-dollar avatar body and were only a scientist, you needed protection. And what better protection than the new Na’vi recom soldiers? Plus, they were tall, strong, and muscular.

So that is how you met your new lovers. You learned that they were a little hard-headed, very strong, very loyal, and pretty jealous. Not necessarily jealous of each other, they saw themselves as a family, but with literally anyone else. When you told them you liked boy boys and girls you couldn’t talk to a single soul without them feeling a tinge of jealousy. Some were good at hiding it others had it written all over their face, it didn’t really bother you too much, you had them.

You would go to work and then go back to them, sometimes in your human body or in your avatar. Not too many people knew you were with all the recoms, the only people that really knew were some of the people in your department. They had seen you with them when they dropped you off or came by to pick you up after you finished work or when they would visit you while you were working. It was always someone different, but it was always one of your tall blue lovers.

Some of your co-workers liked to pick on you a little for being with them and fucking the aliens. You didn’t care, you loved them deeply, and you wouldn’t ever trade them for the world.

But one day, when one of them came to visit you while you were working, they saw you talking with some of your co-workers. You were laughing and smiling and you just tucked your hair behind your ears, you did that when you were flustered.

It was Prager who came to visit you, he was feeling tired and in a cuddly mood and he always sought you out when he got that way. He was angry that you’d be talking with this guy that you worked with. You should be laughing with anyone but them, you were theirs. So, Prager went back to the recom common room to tell everyone what he saw.

He stormed back to the common room, punched in the door code and stomped in.

“What happened? Did she say she had to work? Cause I told you so,” Lopez said with a smirk.

Prager didn’t answer, instead, he gathered everyone in the common area.

“What’s going on? Care to explain?” Miles asked.

“I went to see her and I saw her but she was talking and laughing with another guy. They were supposed to be working and she even tucked her hair behind her ears. She was flirting with him; I couldn’t believe it. So, I came back here to tell you guys,” Prager explained.

“What was she doing?” Mansk asked, always trying to work out situations, giving you the benefit of the doubt.

“She was by her microscope, she was writing on some papers, but then she stopped and she gave him her undivided attention,” Prager explained

“Well, let’s go see this then,” Lyle said wanting to confirm it.

Miles put his arm out to stop Lyle, “no. We wait till she finishes work, she has to anyway. Then we will confront her. You know she can’t lie worth a damn and will crumble under us. She can also explain her side of the story and we will go from there.”

“Are we gonna punish her?” Walker asked with a slight smirk.

“Depends. She might have an explanation and then we will just tone down our usual punishment. If she doesn’t deny it and says what she did, we will use a lesser punishment. If she tries to hide it and denies it, we will go no bars held. She knows her safe word,” Miles explained to everyone.

“When is she done?” Zdog asked.

“A few hours. I’ll pick her up. I intimidate her the most,” Miles said as he smirked at his fellow soldiers.

“So, what do we do till then?” Ja asked.

“We could try to get her out early. Maybe do a random walk-by and see if it’s continuing?” Fike suggested.

“That’s the first smart thing you’ve ever said,” Lopez smirked.

“Go fuck yourself,” Fike said to Lopez with a scoff and smile while rolling his eyes.

So, a few hours passed and Miles left a couple of minutes before you were supposed to finish for the day. He walked in front of the glass doors of the chemistry lab, there were multiple scientists working away. Then his eyes landed on you, looking into different Petri dishes and writing stuff down. He fell in love with you all over again, he couldn't believe how gorgeous you were. Both your human body and your avatar body were absolutely stunning, he understood why people wanted you, not that they’d ever get you.

He opened the door and walked in, he saw you look up and smile brightly. He walked over to you and placed his hands on your shoulders and watched you finish your notes.

“I’m almost done give me five minutes.”

“Take your time cupcake,” Miles said patting your shoulders.

He noticed your co-workers staring at you and him and then whispering to each other, he knew they liked to gossip. He wasn’t bothered by them and he knew you weren’t either but he still didn’t like it. He gave them a slight scowl and turned back towards you.

Finally, you and him left the lab and went to the recom-only areas. Once you entered the room and saw all of your lovers right there you were surprised.

“Woah, what’s going on? Did I miss something? Is there a special occasion?” You said slightly nervous.

Miles came up behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders and squeezed a little bit. “We needed to talk to you about something and we need you to be honest.”

“What’s up?” You said it slowly, you were kind of scared.

“Were you flirting with one of your co-workers today?” Miles asked.

“Flirting? You think I would purposely flirt with someone I work with? That’s like giving that person a death wish. I wasn’t trying to flirt with anyone, if that happened, I’m sorry that it did, it was not my intention.”

“But you were flustered. I saw you tuck your hair behind your ears,” Prager said.

“I was using my microscope a lot today and I forgot my hair tie. You know how I hate my hair in my face. I just happened to tuck my hair behind my ears a lot today.”

“But you were laughing and talking with him then you looked down and tucked your hair behind your ears. You were flustered, he made you flustered.”

“I swear I never intended for that to happen. I have to talk with my coworkers, I need them to tolerate me. I work with them and there’s no replacing them or me so we have to get along. I promise I was not intentionally flirting with anyone I work with.”

“But you were being friendly,” Lyle said.

“Yeah, but I need to be. I need them to like me. I’m friendly to anyone I talk to. I don’t talk to a lot of people other than you guys but I’m not an asshole.”

“I think you need to learn your place,” Miles said leaning over to whisper in your ear.

Your eyes went wide, they planned on punishing you for this.

“Do I need my avatar for this?”

“No, we will be tame enough for a human.”

You breathed out loudly through your nose trying to calm yourself. You didn’t hate when this happened, it was hot. However, it was just a lot and it was tiring and it was just so much for your little body.

Miles started to move his hands down to your hips, then he moved them from your hips to slide up your sides and take your shirt off. You lifted your arms to help him take your shirt off, he threw your top onto the floor and touched your smooth skin again. His hands went to your back and unclasped your bra, he took it off you as well and let it fall to the floor. Miles smiled as he watched everyone state at you, he placed his large hands on your tits and pulled you into his body. He started to play with your nipples and it made you cry out.

You could see the smirks on everyone’s faces as they watched you whine while being toyed with. Miles' hands then found the hem of your pants, he unbuttoned them and let them fall to the floor.

“These are cute,” Miles said as he revealed your panties to the recoms. He grabbed the band of your panties on your hip and let it slap against your skin.

“Now, be a good girl and go apologize to Prager first. He wanted you so badly and he had to see you openly flirting,” Miles said as he slapped your ass as you walked over to Prager.

You sat on Prager’s lap and kissed him; Prager’s hands roamed your body before staying on your hips. He squeezed the flesh of your hips and occasionally your butt, you found yourself naturally rolling your hips into him. You could feel him getting harder and harder, you then got off him to kneel in front of him. You started to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants; you pulled out his hard cock. Your hands were so tiny compared to his Na’vi-sized dick; you stroked him a few times before you took him into your mouth.

It was hard to take him into your mouth but you pushed through, his hand grasped at your hair as you sucked him off. He was moaning out lowly as you did the best you could to get as deep as possible, what you couldn’t reach you stroked. Prager was trying to not jerk his hips and start fucking your face but he couldn’t help it, you were just so good. You focused on his head, pushing your tongue onto it and swirling it around. You tried to keep your teeth from hitting his shaft but it was so hard when he was stretching your mouth to its limits. You knew he was close just from the way his thighs twitched and his cock twitched in your mouth.

You pushed him to the back of your throat as he came, it went right down and as you pulled off him, you looked up at him. He was smiling, he looked so blissed out.

“Do you forgive me?”

“Of course, baby,” Prager said stroking your head.

“Don’t be so nice to her. We’re not done here,” Miles said as he walked over to you and picked you up.

Miles placed you down on your stomach on one of the recom-sized tables, your legs dangled helplessly as he held you there with a hand on your back. Lyle walked up next to Miles and kissed your back a few times, his hand then replaced Miles as he stood behind you. He ground his semi-erect cock into your butt before his other hand stroked down your back, landing on your left butt cheek.

“You gonna count ‘em?”

You nodded, “yeah,” you breathed out feeling yourself get more turned on.

His large hand landed a good smack on your butt cheek, it had a good echoing sound.

“One,” you staggered out.

His hand gripped your butt cheek after the smack, his hand rubbed the area as it left your skin coming down again.

“Two.”

You could hear him snickering as he played with your butt cheek a bit before landing a few concurrent slaps to your left cheek.

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Five.”

You couldn’t lie, it was starting to hurt. You knew that this is what was supposed to happen, it was supposed to cause a bit of pain. You liked it but their recom size and strength was a bit much, it just felt raw more than painful, but you could still handle it.

“Six,” you whined out as Lyle slapped your butt again.

He was definitely an ass man but also a boob man, this man was just horny and would take what he could get. He loved all bodies, all sizes, and all parts, but he had a favourite, big juicy asses. He loved a nice jiggly butt, nothing was better, he liked getting to slap, squeeze, pinch, fondle, lick, kiss, suck, bite, whatever he could do, he wanted it. That’s why he was perfect for this job, he could get off on watching your butt jiggle as he slapped your butt.

“Seven.”

Lyle hit the same left cheek, you started to lurch forward as he made contact. It was getting to be quite painful but you were almost done, he almost always went to 10. If he tried more, you might stop him, if he would actually stop.

“Eight.”

You squeezed your eyes when Lyle made impact, you were moaning out at every hit. You could also feel how hard Lyle was, he had to be leaking.

“Nine.”

The finish line was so close, one more and you’d be done. You felt the hand on your back move to your hip, that was new. Both his hands then held your hips and he lifted your hips up a bit and that’s when you felt his cock head rubbing through your folds. You didn’t even hear him unzip his pants, He then pushed in as he slapped your left cheek one last time.

“Ten,” you cried out as he pushed a few inches into you.

Your hands tried to grip at the table, your fingertips pressing into the table while your knuckles bent. Your back was trying to arch with no success, Lyle held you in place as he slowly pushed in more and more.

“Feel how hard you made me by just having your ass on display. I guarantee now pussy ass science puke could fuck you like this. Could get as hard as this. Could get as deep as this. Could make you scream out like this.”

He was praising himself as he started to thrust in and out of you, he was praising how good their recom bodies could fuck you. Hoping that you’d never even think about your coworkers ever again, hoping that you’d never even look at another person.

“Lyle, fuck, Lyle,” you reached your hand back for him, “please.”

“Please what, buttercup?”

“More.”

“You got it babe.”

Lyle sped up and went deeper, you moaned out and he smirked. Your forehead hit the table as you cried out, he couldn’t help but get harder at the sight of you soaking up what he was giving you.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking deep.”

“You like it baby? I can do more. I can already feel myself inside you.”

Lyle smirked as he kissed your back, you could feel his hand on your stomach just below your navel. Your arm slowly moved down there to feel where his hand was, you could feel his cock poking through your skin. You’d seen it and felt it before but it got you every time, it was so hot to know how they were bulging out of you. it just made you feel so small, it was so hot to feel it, even more so when you’d press on it and you’d hear whoever was in you moan.

Like now, pressed down on your lower stomach had Lyle moaning and grunting, he kept thrusting faster and faster before cumming deep in you. While it felt good and it was hot, you didn’t cum and that was probably their plan for tonight, not stimulate you enough to cum or deny you of it all together.

Lyle pulled out and moved away from you, he then lifted you up and placed you in the lap of Lopez. He already had his cock out, he held onto your hips before helping you to sink down on his thick cock. You gripped onto his shoulders for dear life as you felt the stretch, nothing helped with the stretch. Even after Lyle just fucked the shit out of you, you still weren’t meant for their large bodies.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing the shit out of me, baby girl,” Lopez said resting his forehead in yours.

He slowly sunk you down further and further until he stopped and started to lift your body up and down on his cock. Your head rested on his shoulder as you cried out, your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled your bodies close together.

“Please, please, please, let me cum,” you whined out. You figured begging might help.

“I’m glad you figured it out. Sooner than I thought. Either way, you won’t be cumming for some time,” Miles said from right behind you. You felt him kiss your shoulder after he told you, his plan.

You whined out from Miles' words and from feeling Lopez go in deeper. You knew you had to cum, but you also knew you couldn’t otherwise your punishment would get worse. Your mouth bit into Lopez’s bare shoulder as you focused on not cumming. The grip Lopez had on your body got tighter as you tried your best to follow Miles’ orders.

“Fuck baby girl, you’re gripping me so fucking hard.”

“Well, I’m trying not to cum. You’re just hitting it perfectly.”

He made a particular few thrusts up into you at really stroked your walls beautifully. You moaned out, holding onto him harder as you held back the best you could.

“Miles please let me cum, I can’t hold it back, please.”

“You’re not cumming.”

You knew asking Lopez was futile, he wasn’t going to let you cum anymore than Miles would. You knew that you would just have to hold off, but that was going to be even harder shortly. After Lopez finally came, you felt yourself finally be able to let your body relax, but that didn’t last long.

“You good with going upside down?” Walker asked smirking in your ear. She bit the lobe of your ear lightly as she wrapped her arms around your waist. She lifted you up off Lopez and took you to where she was sitting. She rested your back on her thighs and took your hips lifting them up to her mouth. Your legs straddled her head as she smiled at you between them.

“Wait I can’t, she gonna make me cum. All she does is know how to stimulate. She doesn’t stop till I cum.”

“That’s your problem, honey,” Walker smiled as she attached her mouth to your clit.

Your head pushed back against her knees as you moaned out loudly. Your hands gripped the armrests and your eyebrows furrowed; your mouth was agape as Walker pulled moan after moan from your mouth. It was such a compliment to her to see you stuck in a state like this. However, it didn’t take long before she had you cumming, it was going to happen, and you were already holding back. You were so sensitive, it didn’t matter, any stimulation was going to get you to cum.

Walker slurped at your pussy as she took everything you gave her.

“I hope you enjoyed that. Because you’re in for it now.”

You stared up at Miles, you could see how much his hard cock was pushing his pants out from your position. You could feel yourself getting more turned on. Miles picked you up and laid you back on the table from earlier. He more or less dropped you and held you on your back. He snarled as he watched you squirm under his large hand, his jaw moved from side to side.

He was planning how he wanted to abuse your poor pussy.

One thing you learned about him was he enjoyed eye contact. If he was eating you out, he’d stare at you and you better be staring back. Same with when you gave him head, on top of that, while fucking he also wanted to see your eyes. You couldn’t close them from pain or pleasure, you had to keep them on his. He made you stare at him as he unbuttoned his pants, he kept eye contact with you as he roughly pushed into you. He pushed all of his length into you in one go, it made you moan out loudly. You have been prepared well enough but it still stung and especially just from how he just pushed it all inside. He was bottomed out and he was one of the longer and thicker ones. He started to thrust into you right away, he took no prisoners either.

He was merciless, he lifted a leg to rest it on the table to get better leverage to fuck you deeper. Your small hands clawed at his back; you were in pain but it felt so good. Miles was deep inside, he was fast and normally at this point, you’d just lay your hand on your lower stomach to feel the bulge of his cock outlined in your skin. You couldn’t your body was so wound up, he was stimulating you so much, you just gripped onto his skin.

Your abs were so tightly restricted, you were just constantly being overstimulated. Your eyes fought to stay open to stare into his as he fucked you, all you wanted to do was close your eyes and throw your head back. You fought with yourself to keep from letting your body feel the pleasure, you had to keep your eyes open. Not to mention, even if you begged, he probably wouldn’t have let you cum.

“Miles, Miles, please, I can’t. I have to cum.”

“You will wait till I do then I will let you.”

You sighed out in protest, you could barely hold it, you wanted to cum now. You knew he wouldn’t be too much longer but still, you had to cum now. You felt him twitch, he was close he had to be, it was light there was light at the end of the tunnel. He came deep inside you; you cried out as it just filled you up.

“Miles, please, can I cum?”

His sharp deep thrusts didn’t stop, “have at it, cupcake.”

It only took a second after he finished his sentence for you to cry out while cumming. Your body moved on its own, your eyes squeezed shut and the top of your head hit the table. It was probably one of the most intense orgasms the recoms have ever given your human body. Miles kissed your sternum a few times before pulling out, Ja was quick to pick your tired and spent body up and place you in his arms. He sat down with your body resting on his, he was grounding you by rubbing at your back and running a hand through your hair.

“Don’t you want to get off too?”

“No, baby. You’ve done too much. Your body is tired and probably sore. We can wait,” Ja said to you.

“But I’ve taken you all before?”

“Yeah, that was when you were taking two or three of us at once and we didn’t make you hold your orgasms. You rest, we have all the time in the world,” Zdog said butting in to kiss your tired and sweaty face.

[atydblack]

"demure"

best friends dad! james potter x reader

masterlist

requests are open!

MDNI

word count: 1.2k

warnings: age gap, smut, cheating, ovb everyone is of age!

i know this is starting off a bit similar to my show you series for sirius but its gonna go in a diff direction in the next parts <3

i cant stop thinking about dilf james potter

You were struggling to sleep as your boyfriend, Ron, lay unconscious next to you snoring loudly. You had been staying at the Potters for the past few days as it was summer break and everyone seemed to circle between there and the Burrow for the past few weeks.

You'd expect Ron to be filled with glee at the fact you can share a bed at the Potters, where as at his family home they are made to sleep in separate beds. However, it seemed he couldn't be less bothered.

Desperation began to overtake you as despite your best efforts, he barely wanted to sleep with you. Of course you did, occasionally, but even then it didn't satisfy you.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you crawled out of bed to grab a glass of water as it didn't seem like you were sleeping anytime soon. Standing to your feet, you caught yourself in the mirror. A short black lacy night dress clung to your hips causing you to cringe at yourself. An attempt to spice things up with Ron only to go unnoticed as he simply poked fun at your pyjama choice.

You quietly made your way to the bathroom to grab some water, not too worried about your choice in clothes as you doubted anyone would be up at this hour.

The only noise in the hallway was your bare-feet padding down the stairs. Once you reached the dim-lit kitchen, you realised you were not alone.

James Potter was resting against the kitchen counter with a glass of red wine in has hand, wearing only a white vest and his boxer shorts.

"Y/N." He smirked, it seemed like this wasn't his first drink.

"Mr Potter," You stumbled. "I was just grabbing a glass of water."

"Can't sleep?" He chuckled. "You don't want a real drink?"

Before letting you answer, he grabbed another glass from the cupboard and poured a hefty amount of red wine into it.

"Plus, it's James." He added, passing you the glass. As he did so, you felt his eyes wander down your body causing your cheeks to grow red.

"Thank you, James."

"Sit with me." He strolled over to the lounge, placing himself down on the sofa.

You wandered over towards him, sitting down on the sofa but as far away as possible. You had never been alone with him before.

"So what's got you up at this hour?"

"I- um, I'm not sure." You mumbled. You were unsure why you were so nervous, you had known James since you and Harry became friends, but you could feel like eyes on your body.

"Ron not help you get to sleep?"

You were speechless - he was clearly intoxicated but every word he spoke shocked you more and more.

"Oh come on." He took out a box of cigarettes and lit one. You knew he smoked but had witnessed how angry Lily gets when he lights one inside. "Pretty girl like you, surely he can't keep his hands off of you."

"Not quite." You chuckled, taking a big sip.

"What do you mean?" He pushed, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"I- You know what I mean." The wine was making you feel more relaxed.

"He doesn't satisfy you?"

There was a pause as you struggled with how to reply, this was such a strange situation and you didn't want to tell him everything that you had never even spoken about to your closest friends.

"Of course he does." You responded, but it came out a bit too defensive.

James laughed as your cheeks grew red again.

You didn't want anyone to know about your sex life - it was embarrassing. But now you'd somehow given it away to your best friends dad.

"You don't sound too convincing, darling." James smirked. "Has he made you cum?"

You looked at him, confused. Made you cum? Of course you'd made him cum time and time again but you didn't think it was possible the other way round.

"He hasn't?" James raised his eyebrows. "Fuck, he's wasting you."

"What do you mean?" You almost groaned, this whole conversation was both confusing and frustrating.

"I mean look at you." He put out his cigarette and took a big swig from his glass. "Such a sexy little princess and he can't even make you cum."

Heat grew between your legs as you locked eyes. You had never seen this side of James before, and although guilt was desperately trying to come to the forefront of your emotions, you pushed at back.

"Come here." He spread his legs and patted in between them.

You obliged, moving shakily towards him.

As you sat down in his lap, back facing his chest, goosebumps covered your skin as you made contact with him.

"Want me to show you how it's supposed to be, pretty girl?"

You nodded.

"Use your words."

"Yes, James." You almost choked.

He placed a soft kiss on the back of your neck causing you to stifle a soft moan.

James' hand travelled down to your thigh, using his thumb to brush circled edging closer and closer to you.

You wanted to scream, you had never felt this intense neediness before and you could feel yourself growing wetter and wetter.

"Tell me what you want." He whispered in your ear.

"You." You let out desperately.

"Tell me."

"I want you to make me cum." You moaned out.

At your demand, his fingers moved towards your lace panties, rubbing circles through them.

"Fuck, princess, you're already wet for me?"

You couldn't let out anything other than a moan. He continued to rub circles, his pace growing quicker and quicker. You were already close to your high and he hadn't even removed your underwear yet.

The combination of his wet kisses on your neck and his big hands circling your clit caused you to reach your high, legs shaking at the sheer ecstacy.

"You came already, baby?" James chuckled. "I haven't even started yet."

Before you had the chance to catch your breath, he ripped your underwear off of you and pushed a finger inside you.

You couldn't stop moaning, he were worried at the amount of noise you were making but that thought quickly passed once James gripped your throat, restricted both noise and your breathing.

Somehow this turned you on even more, worried you would cum for a second time in only a few minutes.

He pushed two more fingers inside you, fucking you with force at an unnatural pace.

"Your pussy is so tight, sweet girl." He groaned. "I wanna feel you cum around my fingers this time"

You couldn't believe how good he made you feel, giving you just the right amount of pleasure and pain as he continued to choke you.

Your head flew back, resting on his chest as you reached your high for a second time. Your pussy clenched around his fingers as you continued to moan.

Once you'd finished your climax, he pulled his fingers from you and brought them up to his mouth, sucking your cum from them.

Your brain was still hazy and you wanted him more than anything you'd ever wanted in your life.

Sliding off of him onto the floor in front, you turned to him. You tried to pull down his boxers but he gently grabbed your wrists.

"As much as I'd like to fuck you until we both can't walk, Y/N." James chuckled. "I fear we might wake my wife."

---

part two

there will be many parts to this !!! aiming to do part two tomorrow

let me know if you liked it and remember my requests are open :)

[patrophthia]

take you to the basics | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott × hufflepuff!reader

genre: fluff, (kinda) established relationships, theo is whipped, even more fluff, everyone are friends, everyone is an idiot, self indulgent, 7th year (after war), theres ginny here too, not beta read, awkward theo bc it’s cute, theo is basically just tall, and not buff ver of jeon wonwoo from svt

word count: 3.9k

is a sequel to love is sour grapes but can be read as a one shot as well!

With as much care as he could muster in his tone, he asks. "Will you give me the honour in courting you?" And then, as if he was realising he's supposed to take things slow -even though his intention was, and will always be, courting me- he corrects himself. "Will you give me the honour of being my girlfriend?"

What a way with words he has. I'd like to think it has something to do with the romance books he'd been reading just so he could have something to talk to me about all these months.

"Do you want to be my boyfriend?" I counter after a beat.

Theodore stayed quiet for the briefest second before: "yes."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"You're my boyfriend."

"Oh." There's a second of silence where neither of us spoke before my face breaks out into a smile, one that he doesn't bother to hold himself back from reciprocating it. "Okay."

Why was life so complicated? Okay, maybe not so much life —why was dating Theodore so complicated? That is if the two of us were even a thing. It was okay at first, now it's just plain out exhausting.

I like him and he knows it. And he likes me, and I know it. So why was things so complicated? We've kissed before, multiple times actually. We've gone on dates where we spent a majority of the time talking about the books we read —although it's more like me talking and him listening with that stone cold face of his, but that was just who he was and I would never change it about him.

What I do want to change though is whatever is going on between us. I've already embarrassed myself in front of him once and I would rather die than do it again. So what should I do in this situation? Talk to my friends apparently.

"I don't get it," says Hermione with a frustrated tone. "You both like each other and he acts like your boyfriend." I nod slowly and she continues. "But he isn't actually your boyfriend."

I nod again. "Yup."

"He didn't ask?" Ginny asks, now having joined our little friend group. Ron and Harry listen reluctantly, not enjoying the girl talk all too much.

"You have to ask?" Ron asks suddenly, obviously clueless. And when Hermione, and Ginny shoot him a look. He turns to his plate, mumbling. "I thought you'd be boyfriends and girlfriends after the third date."

"That's normally how it goes," I said. "After the third date the two of you are technically a thing but it isn't official until one or the other asks to make it official."

"Why don't you ask him?" Harry says suddenly, immediately regretting it when all our attention was fixed on him. "I mean maybe, he —like Ron and I— don't know about these things so he just assumes—"

"That's not excusable," Hermione cuts him off. "He's friends with a girl, Parkinson, so I'm sure she's filled him on this stuff."

"But what if she didn't?" I ask. Okay maybe I had a soft spot for Theo and is trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. And in my defence, I liked him, like a lot, and when you fancy someone, like really fancy them, the red flags tend to look like a dark shade of pink and I'd like to think that pink was a pretty colour.

Plus —and this isn't just an excuse, if I really thought about it, I don't think I've ever seen Theodore go out with anyone before he went out with me. So if he was a rookie at this dating thing, maybe I should be the one leading this relationship.

"Okay then go ask him," Hermione says pettily, she wants me to be happy, she really does, but she can't find it in herself to support me dating someone who can't make it clear what his intentions with me were. "Ask him 'what are we?' Or 'why did you tell me to not smile at other people?' I can't let you be with someone who doesn't know their place with you."

"And what makes you think he doesn't," Ron chimes in between a bite of his snack, when did he get one, I didn't seem to notice.

"You see her?" Hermione asks, she then says my name in the same questioning tone. "She wouldn't be talking to us about this if he did."

"Wait, aren't you supposed to be on a date with him right now?" Ginny says suddenly. "Why are you here?"

"He had last minute plans with Malfoy," I say, and I know, even without looking at her, that Hermione was disappointed with me. "And it wasn't a date."

"Yeah, just two people who fancy each other hanging out," Ron snickered, now being on Mione's side of disapproving of Theo.

"Did he tell you what he was doing with Malfoy?" Harry asks, curious as to what the Slytherins might be up to.

"I don't know," I told him. "I'm already stressing about this whole situation with him that I just accepted and went to find you four. I think I'm just going to take off my makeup, spend the day with you, then try to sleep good tonight."

I then added. "Unless you had plans that didn't include me in it?"

The four shook their heads. "We were just going to go watch Harry and Ginny practice." Hermione says.

"Great," I mumbled, standing up. "I'll come with."

"Wait," Ginny calls out, and I pause in my step, turning to where her voice came from. "I'll be quick."

She points at her shoe and it's then that I notice that it's been untied. Ron, Hermione, and Harry, who seemed to have not heard her, continued their way towards the quidditch pitch. I waited by her side, offering her a hand when she had to get back up.

"You know," she says lowly, "I heard that you're the only person Nott didn't reject, apparently he's pretty popular with the girls."

I shook my head. "That's not true," I say with a slight frown. "When I first asked him out, he just stared at me."

"Which technically isn't a rejection," Ginny smiles sweetly. "More like you rendering him speechless."

That was exactly what Theo told me after my first date with him. "I guess."

"Bloody hell, will you two please speed it up?" Ron shouts at the front of the quidditch pitch, only now realising that we're far behind them.

I felt half the urge to walk even slower, and from the small grin Ginny wore from the corner of my eyes, I'm pretty sure she was thinking the same thing. But Harry and Hermione were also waiting with him, and it was only a matter of time before they started bickering about it as well. So we sped up with our steps.

But just before we reach the pitch, Ginny stops me, yelling for them to go ahead without us. "You want to know a secret?" she asks, I nod. "Since I was Harry's first real girlfriend I had to be the one to ask him to be my boyfriend."

"Are you saying I should be the one to ask?" I murmur. I don't think I would mind doing so, but there was something more romantic about having your date ask you to be your boyfriend.

"No," she says kindly. "Just saying you should nudge him in the right direction."

"So guide him?"

"Yep."

Okay. That is surely something I can do. Now, for me to draw up a plan on how to do it. If I've managed to help take down a dark wizard then surely I can get Theo to ask me to be his girlfriend.

Both Ginny and I step into the quidditch pitch. Slightly taken aback to see more than six players in the field (with Ginny being the missing member), it didn't take us long to register why though.

Neither did it take me long to notice Theo, standing right behind Malfoy as he bickered with Harry. What was happening? And did Theo really ditch our (not) date just to watch his friend's quidditch practice?

"Badger," Blaise says suddenly, drawing everyone's attention to Ginny and I by the entrance. "I see you look pretty as always."

Theodore doesn't even bother to subtly smack his friend in the back of his head. It doesn't affect Blaise though, only finding it amusing to witness.

"What's going on?" Ginny asks.

"We booked this pitch," Malfoy says before Harry could get a word in. "And now you're trying to take it from us."

"No, we booked the pitch." Harry says sternly. "You're the one trying to take it away from us."

Despite Gryffindor and Slytherin (somewhat) friendship after the war ended —and the fact that our friend groups were now mixed because of whatever Theodore and I have going on. They were still competitive people. And they want more than anything to win this year's cup.

"I have an idea," I say, quite honestly done with their stupid rivalry. "How about you practise together?" I say off-handedly, knowing full well that they'd agree to come for my throat. "Just an idea."

"And have they found out about our strategies?" Malfoy scoffs. "I thought you were smarter than this."

Considering that I did better in classes then him, and that Ron agreed with his words. I technically am smarter than him. "Well if you're so sure about your strategies working then it wouldn't hurt if you gave up the pitch for just one practice right?"

Draco was on the brink of agreeing when it hit him, blinking at me. "Oh you're good," he murmurs. "Fine, have the pitch for all I care."

I was more than sure that he was only giving it for my benefits. Sure that if it had been someone else who had said it, he'd only double down and insist that he'd reserved the pitch (he didn't, not a single Slytherin booked the pitch for today). But it seemed as though he had a soft spot for me.

The theory of Slytherins having soft spots for Hufflepuffs gets proven right once more. And I'm more than glad to know that I was the beneficiary of this theory.

Blaise was the first to leave, waving at me as he went as the other Slytherins followed after him, the players grumbling under their breath with their brooms in hand. Theo was the last to leave, lingering just so he could pull me to the side.

A hand on my left arm leads me to a quieter corner of the pitch, just below the benches as the players start to get ready for practice. I don't look him in the eye when I ask him, "what?"

The hostility in my tone wasn't missed by Theo and if I didn't know him the way I did, I would've missed the flash of hurt in his eyes. "What do you want, Nott?"

And Theodore feels as if I was stomping on his heart. He hasn't been called Nott since the two of us started going out. "Are you mad at me?"

My brows furrow. "What do you think?"

"Did I do something wrong?" He follows up, his tone doesn't show it —neither does his face, but he was worried, scared, and quite honestly pissed with himself. "Is it because I cancelled on you? Doll, you said you were okay with it."

"No," I shook my head. Confrontation wasn't something I was fond of, nor was I good at it. So I'll settle with just being upset for now. "I'm not mad at you."

Theodore blinks, seemingly getting whiplash from my words. First I ask him what he thinks, in a —if he wasn't wrong— passive aggressive tone, and now I'm telling him that I'm not mad at him? What.

But he decides to take my words as is, trusting that I'd tell him how I feel despite him not telling me that he honestly feels like he'd fucked him over; ruining his only chance at love —oh, and that he doesn't even know what he did. "I'll see you at dinner?"

"No," I say with a slight shake of my head. "I think I'll have dinner with my friends tonight." Theodore fails to mention that Blaise, Draco, and Pansy were also my friends by now. "Next time?"

Theo nods, agreeing. "Next time."

It has been three weeks and 'next time' has yet to come. He's starting to realise it now: realising that I was actually mad at him when I said I wasn't and it'd be a lie if he said it didn't hurt him. He has somehow made me mad and he wishes more than anything that he was dead —because, quite honestly, he can't stand living if I was mad at him.

He needs to recruit help, he decided. And who better to help him with relationship problems than his friends (who he thinks has more experience with relationships than he does) and my friend (whom he knows has more experience in relationships then he does —take Granger and Weasley for example, the two have been together since fourth year).

"So you think she's mad at you and you don't know why?" Weasley comes to the conclusion after Blaise, who he'd already told the whole story to, summed it up for them. "You seriously don't?"

Theodore nods slowly, there was a slight shift in his stone cold expression, barely catchable by the eye but it was there. And it was that slight shift that reassured Hermione that Theo did actually have good intentions when it came to her friend; he was just clueless on what to do.

"She's upset with you because you said you were busy and left her to watch your friends practice," Ginny offers, it was clear that she was also mad on my behalf.

"That's it?" Malfoy mumbles questioningly. "Something as mundane as that is what we're meeting here for?"

"It might be mundane to you but it's not mundane to her," Harry jumps to my defence. "She's not you, Malfoy."

"Okay, so she's mad at Theo because he ditched her for us?" Blaise asks, trying to get them back on track.

"Don't say it like that," Ginny scoffs. "Phrasing it that way makes her seem selfish, which she's not. She just wants to know where she is with Theo and for him to at least try to prioritise her."

"I do prioritise her," Theo says dumbfounded-ly. He really did, he's spent the last however many months of his life reading cheesy books just to annotate them in hopes that I'd love them, he'd even picked up on cooking just so when (or really, if) we ended live together I'd always have a nice home cooked meal waiting for me. "She said she was okay with it."

"She said she was okay with it thinking that it was something important," Pansy explains, understanding exactly how I feel. She's been placed in the same position before, by no one other than Draco himself. "Thinking that Blaise had a heart attack or something, not a stupid quidditch practice."

"Careful," Draco warns. "You were also at the practice."

Pansy rolls her eyes. "Bite me."

"What do I do then?" Theo asks after a while, picking the topic back up.

And the Gryffindor's try their best to remain normal, never —in the last seven years they'd spent studying in the same castle as him— had they heard him spoken for such a long period of time.

"Well let's take you to the basics," Hermione says. "Where are the two of you right now? In terms of relationship that is."

"We're dating?" He answers slowly.

"No you're not," Ron says loudly. "You haven't asked to be her boyfriend yet."

Draco, clearly befuddled, says. "You have to ask?"

Pansy nods. "Of course," she says. "I thought you knew?" And then, after a beat, she adds. "Maybe that's why we didn't work out."

Draco rolls his eyes, mumbling something along the line of his fathers as he does so. "So what should he do then?"

"Apologise for what he did then make it clear what the two of you are." Harry explains, he's done this before, he did it when he first went out with Ginny —so really, he's speaking from experience. "From then on you take things slow so you can work out the kinks of your relationships.

Okay, he thinks he gets it. He has to apologise, make things clear, then take things slow. Surely he can do it.

Now for him to actually do it.

STEP ONE: apologise

Which is, more often than not, easier said than done.  Theodore has half the heart to buy something nice in order of winning me over but he knew me better. And he knew that I wasn't with him for his money. So he ought to do better. And he thinks he knows how to do it.

To apologise he should do something heartfelt, which was why he'd found himself learning to plant my favourite flower. He'd rather die than apologise to the one person he cherished more than anything empty handed.

He sees the few cuts on his hand from his attempt at gardening and he hopes that I don't notice it. He doesn't want me to notice his imperfections when I was (to him) perfect in every sense. He likes me every time he sees me, I was exactly his type and he hopes I know it.

He doesn't want to mess this up. He doesn't want to mess us up. And he's really trying his best not to.

With our shoes almost touching, Theo stood tall from my seat on Hogwarts many benches with a planted pot in hand. "I'm sorry," he says first and I mask my surprise at his words. "I won't do it again."

He doesn't bother beating around the bush, with a gift in hand, safe to say I'm impressed. If not a little bit amused by how frustrated he looks.

"Why?" I ask, a hand reaching for the plant and Theodore hesitatingly hands it over, his own fingers brushing against my own. "Why are you sorry?"

"Because I ditched you for—"

"Sweetheart, I told you that it was fine."

Theodore's pretty sure his brain is short circuiting. He's heard every variation of his name by now. All of which he can recall from the top of his head. Theodore, Theo, Nott, even Teddy from that ex-girlfriend he had back in kindergarten. But sweetheart is different.

And he thinks he likes it. He thinks he likes it when he's called sweetheart. He thinks he likes it because he likes me. And I was the one calling him sweetheart.

"But your friends—" he pauses, correcting himself "—our friends said that you were upset."

Relationships are built on communication, and I know that it was hard for Theodore to do so. So I won't make it harder for him and lay it all out. "I was upset, yes. But I also said that it was okay for you to spend time with your friends."

And after a second, I added. "And it's not like I'm your girlfriend or anything."

Theodore frowns, taking a seat on the bench besides me.

STEP TWO: make things clear

His chest feels heavy at my words. He doesn't like knowing that I think I wasn't his girlfriend. Because, if I really wasn't, was it normal for him to like me as much as he did?

He has to say something.

"But you are, aren't you?" He asks, brows furrowed.

His heart is leaning, waiting and waiting for an answer. His eyes flutters shut, and he doesn't know it. Wishing and wishing that I would say something.

"Theo." My voice comes out softer than I intended for it to be. "Do you want me to be your girlfriend?"

His heart is speeding up. And he thinks that there should be a guide book on how to be in a relationship with pretty girls. But he guesses that he's being guided by one right now.

THE BASICS ON HOW TO DATE PRETTY GIRLS (FOR ROOKIES) by Theodore's and I friends.

His words get caught in his throat. Isn't it so incredibly obvious? He wants to say. Isn't it so incredibly obvious that I've bewitched him? He doesn't say it, but he does nod. And he hopes his nod conveys just how much he wants to be mine.

"Okay," I said first. "I'll be your girlfriend." But of course, things can't always be that easy. "If you ask me properly."

STEP THREE: take things slow

He blinks at me slowly. As if he's only just learning how to properly function; a shift in his eyes caught my attention though, knowing that he's finally processing my words.

He doesn't know why he's scared, he knows that I like him just as much as he likes me but he's nervous about it all. Forgive him for being new to this dating thing.

With as much care as he could muster in his tone, he asks. "Will you give me the honour in courting you?" And then, as if he was realising he's supposed to take things slow —even though his intention was, and will always be, courting me— he corrects himself. "Will you give me the honour of being my girlfriend?"

What a way with words he has. I'd like to think it has something to do with the romance books he'd been reading just so he could have something to talk to me about all these months.

"Do you want to be my boyfriend?" I counter after a beat.

Theodore stayed quiet for the briefest second before: "yes."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"You're my boyfriend."

"Oh." There's a second of silence where neither of us spoke before my face breaks out into a smile, one that he doesn't bother to hold himself back from reciprocating it. "Okay."

"Okay." I nod. "So what should we do first boyfriend?"

Theodore mulls everything over before he turns to me, his hair falling into his eyes. "What do you want to do girlfriend?"

I can't tell whether his hand reaches for mine, or mine his, but I knew that our hands found one another. "Go on a Date."

Theodore lifts our intertwined hand up, placing a careful kiss on my hand as he nods. "Let's go on a date."

STEP FOUR (UNOFFICIAL): kiss, go on dates, be happy!

note: if this guide works, please take the authors (Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron and Ginny weasley, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and Draco Malfoy) out to dinner, all expenses paid by guide user (Theodore Nott).

— from bee: i lost the initial draft for this which was a lot longer and had to restart all over 😵‍💫😵‍💫 this wasn’t what i had planned for it to be like but it’s cute and im happy with it anyways!!

some other songs i used for inspo for this fic:

say something - twice

rookie - red velvet

+ bonus scene: The table goes silent as Theodore picks up the check, waiting with bated breath on how much it came out to be.

And despite knowing that all the Slytherins + Harry would be able to handle the bill without making a dent in their vault, they're still all anxious to know the price.

Theodore pulls out his card, sleek, black, and hands it over to the waiter. Once the waiter left, he turns to us. "I'll buy you dessert if you can guess it."

The group starts blurting out numbers, startling the other customers but they couldn't seem to care less. Beneath the table, with his finger tracing the skin of my thigh. Theodore writes the price, and inching a bit lower, he adds; "make me proud, sweetheart."

Safe to say the group wasn't all too happy to know that I was the only one who not only guessed right, but was right number by number. Draco would later on whine about this, something along the lines of: "Girlfriend privileges."

[peanutbubba]

White Beard Pirates x Reader Talking To Another Man

Ace, Marco, Izo, Jozu, Thatch, and Vista! Gender neutral!reader, slight cursing, kinda got lazy at the end sadly, might be a little ooc for some of them since it’s my first time writing them, no beta we die like ace, requested!

———————————————————���———

Portgas D. Ace

Ace is naturally a jealous man, he doesn’t really like to be, finding it to be an unattractive trait within himself however he can’t help it. Especially, when he finds you near another crew member, stealing all your attention.

It doesn’t take long for him to realize that you were missing for nearly half the day, gone from your routinely activity of finding him and giving a kiss to his cheek plus checking up on him. When he goes to find you he nearly crushes a piece of railing he was holding onto, realizing that you weren’t missing, no, someone had just been pestering you all day. No wonder why you haven’t been with him for nearly half of the day, this person was hogging you all to themselves! He’s quick to act though, a charming smile on his face as he plays up his outgoing personality, tring to cover his jealousy. Swinging himself over the side of the railing and walking over to you and the other man, warm arms wrapping tightly against your waist, pressing his chest to your back.

He tries to coax you into leaving with him, hands rubbing circles on your waist as he whispers softly in your ear of missing you. If that doesn’t work then he just glares at the other man until he leaves, eyes piercing and irritated. When the man quickly runs off not wanting to anger The Fire Fist Ace you look suspiciously back at Ace, his expression now changed to relaxed and loving. Again, he softly asks if you can hang out with him. Will give you puppy dog eyes if he needs too, please say yes.

Marco

Without a doubt, Marco is the most calm about you talking to another man that isn’t him. It isn’t exactly that he doesn’t care, he just is secure in your relationship and the fact that you’d never go behind his back. Plus, he’s very aware that you also deserve to have a social life outside of him.

However, he also prioritizes your safety and wellbeing above all else, should something happen to you he wouldn’t forgive himself. His trust in you is absolute, as always, the people you talk to not so much. Especially when it’s while you’re stopped at an island, his eyes are glued to you and that man, making sure he makes no attempts to put you in danger. As a person with a high bounty you’re always at risk of being put in danger, and while Marco is confident you can protect yourself that doesn’t stop his worries any less.

Hovering near the areas you are, or just full blown hanging around you, a charming yet deadly serious demeanor about him. He definitely feels less uneasy when you’re both on the ship around trusted people, and a hundred times more when you’re close to somewhere he can monitor your surroundings. Overall, not very overbearing about you talking to other men, so long as he knows you’re safe and that the man isn’t bothering you.

Thatch

Another man who would be pretty calm about you talking to another man is Thatch, probably would even join you in conversation with whoever you’re actively talking to if he has the chance too and you don’t mind.

As a more friendly natured man he’s quite happy when you meet new people, thinking that the socialization is good for you. If he’s not too busy then a lot of the time he’ll join in the conversation happily, pleased to talk with another person and especially you. If he is then he doesn’t really mind, he’s a little jealous that it isn’t him you’re talking to but just by a smidge, he gets over it pretty quickly.

He also does it to make sure you don’t get into any trouble. He wholeheartedly believes that you can absolutely take care of anyone that bothers you, he’s your #1 fan, but he also likes to be careful, especially if it’s with someone who isn’t from/is new to the crew.

Izou

With Izou it’s a complete 50/50 how he acts, completely depending on how the other person is acting towards you, or if you both know the person.

If you’re chatting with a man that both of you know that he’s completely calm, maybe every now and then his eyes are flickering to your form to make sure you’re okay, but he allows you to have your conversation in peace with the man, occasionally gives the man death glares though so he knows not to do anything. If it’s a complete stranger though then his entire demeanor changes.

Izou is a fiercely loyal man, whatever it takes he’ll ensure you’re safe and happy, so without a doubt if you’re talking to someone new then he’s sticking beside you if he can. Definitely has a mean face while looking at the man you’re talking to, he’s just trying to keep the man under a watchful gaze. A hundred percent scares the man off.. Izou is definitely more protective than he is jealous, doesn’t mean you can’t make him jealous though. If he is jealous then he’s quick to get whatever pest of a man is near you away, trying to steal your attention for himself.

Jozu

Jozu is very quiet, you never really know what he’s thinking until he actually says something. If you’re ever talking to someone else he’s especially hard to read, just staring at the both of you for a moment.

He’s just trying to make sure that the man has no bad intentions for you, his silence sometimes mistaken for brooding although he’s just trying to be through with his observations of the man. If the man is fine then he’s fine, only really looking back at you occasionally making sure you’re still alright.

If the man is a little strange or off putting though then he’s quick to act, smoothly and almost silently stealing you away from your company. If you ask him what’s wrong then he’ll obviously softly tell you, but once you both are far away from that weird ass man.

Vista

Vista barely has any bones in his body to be jellyfish, key word being barely. Although, that jealousy is more towards if that man is hitting on you rather than if you’re talking to him.

He just watches for a moment you and the man having a conversation, not very worried knowing that he can trust the way you act around other people. His eyes leave you for just a couple minutes, looking at something else before going back to you. Your body rigid and face clearly uncomfortable, the man talking to you clearly getting too confident for his own good.

Ooo, he’s mad. How dare this man make you, his lovely partner, uncomfortable! Definitely coming to your rescue as quickly as he can. If you’re okay with PDA then he might put a hand on your waist to get the man to back off, if not then he’s just casually whisking you away from that creep.

—

Im so sad, Jozu barely has any gifs!! Also this was pretty fun, made me write about characters I wouldn’t normally, which was cool.

Hope you enjoyed! Peas out.

[ihopeiexplode]

Sukuna ramblings: “Realistically, would Sukuna have a lover, if yes how would the relationship be?”

. Requested!

—

Honestly realistically speaking, Sukuna himself stated love is worthless so without a doubt I don't see Sukuna having a lover,

Because personally I see Sukuna as someone who only cares about his own desires and could careless about what people think, because he did state in the manga that he was an unwanted child meaning he would be neglected

Which would also mean he doesn't know what the concept of love is and doesn't bother learning it, Sukuna isn't one to give, he takes.

Of course as any unwanted and neglected child Sukuna probably climbed his way up to earn his title as the king of curses, getting rid of anything that gets in his way

Sukuna sees feelings as love worthless and a sign of weakness, and seeing Sukunas personality for a fact he hates showing vulnerability and weakness towards anyone

Afterall throughout his whole life he was always a feared and well respected man, Sukuna knows his worth, and is very much aware that the things he's doing is bad but despite that he simply has no regards of the consequence of his actions

Yes I've seen the way he acts with uraume and gojo etc etc

As I said I don't think Sukuna would be the one to have a lover, but if he ever did I feel like he would prefer them to be an equal to him, plus to have undying loyalty to him

Sukuna is the type to hate the weak, so him having a weak s/o is unlikely, he'd much have someone who's independent, strong and won't get in the way of his plan and help him with his plans

But of course his s/o should also be proven useful to sukuna, cause you know they might come in handy for the future

But how would the relationship be like?

A relationship with him would be decent, but he won't show his love for you openly seeing how the concept of love is unknown to him so expressing his love for you would be difficult meaning you'd also have to be patient with him

Plus he already thinks he's showing his love for you seeing how he granted you the privilege to walk beside him and be with him in the first place, that should be enough right?

Seeing how sukuna never experienced love, so he'd be very unfamiliar with the feeling of showering his s/o with affection, the best you'll get from him is compliments and gifts and a few lingering touches from him here and then

He won't be soft, the best you'll get is him lowering his guard around you, and him spending his free time with you

—

[⛩️] @: Likes & Reblogs R appreciated! ^^

A/n: yes this was just an excuse to ramble about sukuna thx ily guys

Permanent Taglist: @megumisfave

[confessioncassette]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝟏𝟖+. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 @𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜. 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞. 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞. 𝐈𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭, 𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰.

𝐭𝐰 : 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫. 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭. 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐣𝐞𝐫𝐤. 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞/𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 : 𝟓.𝟑𝐤

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 <𝟑

When you wake the next morning, your head is a blur. Sitting up in your bed you take a minute to look around your new living situation. It takes a second to understand that this isn’t the room you usually wake up in but, despite all of that, you feel good. 

The reality of being in hell was hard on you yesterday. You’ve had your little breakdown and denial fest.. you won’t let that bother you today. Pushing past things is how you manage. Always one step at a time. Plus, you’re in a place that offers redemption now. What’s done is done and now you can focus on how to get into heaven and maybe sort out a plan there. With God or something, right? 

He’s literally God, maybe he could help your situation on earth. You doubt anyone here could help you… or even want to help you. 

No headaches, your body doesn’t burn… today feels like you can start fresh. Rolling to get out of bed, your eyes catch a bundle of red in the corner of your eye.  

Three red peonies tied together in a bow lay delicately over your unoccupied pillow.

You examine the vibrant flowers and thumb around the stems. You wonder who was thoughtful enough to give a simple yet welcoming gift. 

Alastor’s fleeting expression and charming smile snatches your memory from last night. Your face almost burns, remembering how close he was to you, his face grazing against your cheek, breath fanning over you as it does. 

Smiling to yourself, you think today would be a good day to get back on track. Charlie is willing to help you, and you might learn more about the gentleman from last night. You can even thank him for the lovely flowers. 

The hotel buzzes with life when you walk to the formal dining room. Delicious breakfast foods waft through the air. The warm smell of coffee buzzes through your body. 

“C’mon Husky, don’t chya wanna try it? I’ve been slavin’ over this all mornin’ for ya!” A tall, fluffy man leans over the dining room table, sliding a plate of food to a grumpy cat. 

“Fuck no! Satan knows what you put in there and I don’t wanna risk dying twice.” Taking a swig from a browned bottle, the cat pushes away the plate. 

The tall man’s shoulder slump as he lets out a groan. “Fine, but one day you’re gunna try my cookin’ and you’ll love it. You might even beg for moore.” He teases, taking the plate for himself as Husk rolls his eyes. 

“Oh, good morning! How was your first night?” Charlie beams from the head of the table and everyone’s heads swivel to you. Suddenly, you’re on the spot. 

“It was great, thank you. I actually had the best sleep I’ve had in a while,” you smile, “I needed it.” 

“Everyone welcome our new guest! She arrived late last night.” 

It was a small creature with a giant eye who lunged herself toward you first. Her little legs patting the floor and up your body before you could react. 

“I’m Nifty, I clean.” A sinister giggle erupts from her lips before the tall man who offered.. Husk is it?.. a plate gently and removes her from you. 

“Hey doll, I’m Angel.”

Alastor watches from the hallway as the group introduces themselves to you. Hidden in the shadows, he watches you closely. The way you smile fondly towards people you barely know, how you embrace each one with a greeting. Clearly, you lighten the room. But you’re a mystery, and one he doesn’t want to get involved with. 

Does he? 

Your sweet doe eyes are burned in a memory. He couldn’t help but get close enough to smell you, and fuck, did your saccerine smell burn through his nostrils as well. He could see your panic, the reality of your new eternal life smacking you in the face… the frustration it caused you last night. 

But were you really keen on redemption? He could see the light beam behind your eyes once you stood at the center of your room. You belong here, you’re here for a reason. It’s hell afterall. Every sinner who comes here belongs to this wretched place to burn forever. Surely Charlie’s delusions didn’t persuade you in one night? 

Surely you’re not that…simple? 

“Will Alastor be joining us for breakfast? He’s the only one I haven’t seen this morning.” Alastor ears perk up at your voice from afar. 

“Ehh, smiles doesn’t usually eat with us. Probably up in his room going to town on some animal he caught this mornin’.” Angel grimaces. 

Watching your reaction closely, the slight fall of your face doesn’t go unnoticed. But you’re quick to recover with a smile and dig in with everyone else. 

“Okay everyone! Gather around! Today we will be learning about each other.” Charlie’s hand gestures to you on the couch as everyone else filters into the common room. 

Angel plops himself over the couch’s armchair next to you, stretching his long legs over your thighs. Husk mopes in the room, bottle in hand and leans against the fireplace. Nifty props herself over the table happily swinging her legs and Vaggie stands beside her partner, eyeing everyone down. 

Your eyes carefully glance around the room, trying not to bring attention that you’re looking for Alastor. From your comment at breakfast before, you don’t want to keep bringing the man up to avoid conversations you don’t want to have. 

But it fails. 

“Looking for tall dark and creepy?” Angel shimmies his chest and throws you a wink. 

Rolling your eyes you push playfully at Angel’s leg. “No, just making sure everyone is here.” Giving him a side eye you whisper, “nosey.”

Angel laughs and gives you a nudge, “Well looks like you’re in luck toots, looks who’s comin’.” 

Perking up, you watch Alastor’s tall form stride in the room and take a seat in an armchair directly across from you. His smile is wide, but it seems strained? Folding one leg over the other, he relaxes back into his seat. His eyes scan the room, probably checking for roll-call, before landing directly over you. 

You give a smile but he doesn’t react. 

“Okay! Now that everyone is here, we will be telling 2 truths and a lie. Everyone will say two truths about themselves and one lie. The group will have to guess which one is a lie. So fun!” Charlie claps. 

“I don’t want to put our new guest on the spot, so let’s start with Husk.”

A low groan emits from the fireplace where Husk stands. He really looks like he doesn’t want to be here, but maybe he’s been here long enough to know that he has to participate. 

“Alright, uh, I can down a whole bottle of whiskey with no reaction, I suck at dice games, and I hate water.”

“I’ll give you something to down, Husky~” Angel tosses his head back and blows him a kiss. 

“For fuckssake,” Husk rolls his eyes.

“Oh oh! I know, the lie is he hates water! I’ve seen him take bubble baths at night.” Nifty giggles sinisterly. 

“Okay good job, Nifty.” Vaggie cringes and turns her attention to you, “Would you like to give it a try next?” 

Glancing between her and Alastor’s heavy stare, has he been looking at you this whole time? You shrug. “Sure, I'll give it a shot. Let me think…” You hum. 

“I’ve been in hell for a long time, I love to dance and I’m pretty good at it, and I stole drugs when I was alive.” You’re not that great with coming up with things on the spot, but you gave it your best shot. First things that came to your mind and all without being too personal. 

Angel drags out a hum, “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt that you can dance. Not sure if I would paint you as someone who would steal. You act like Miss-goodie-two-shoes’s-distant relative over there. I’m gunna go with that one.”

You couldn’t help but contain your smile, you could have sworn that your appearance gave you away that you literally died just yesterday. 

“Nope! I died yesterday and found this place last night. Thank god I saw your commercial, I don’t know where I’d be if I didn’t.” 

Angel’s mouth drops open and leans forward. “Hold on, you’re like, super fresh? No kiddin’. So… you stole drugs?” He looks you up and down, “can you do it again?” 

“Matter of fact, we don’t know much about you. Anything at all really. I’ll take it you’re here because you stole, but there’s gotta be more than that.” Husk examines his bottle. 

You shift in your seat uncomfortably. “Yeah, I stole but- I don’t know.” Memories of stealing drugs, scamming people for money flood your mind. That stuff was bad, but did it really land you here in hell? I’m sure it’s a part of the 10 commandments or sins or whatever… 

The man. Your knife. 

You killed someone right before dying. 

“What drugs do you like? I got some good connections. We could totally-”

“No! Nonono, no one is going to do that. Say no to drugs! Remember we are trying to get redeemed?” Charlie’s arms wave frantically as she lets out a nervous laugh. 

It was all for protection. You never wanted to hurt anyone like that before, it’s not like you wake up blood thirty for killing. It was self defense. 

Guilt bubbles within your gut, and it’s getting hard to breathe. Would they even care if you killed? You’re sure almost everyone in hell has killed, even in the afterlife. 

“C’mon, toots, tell us a little about yourself. This is about sharing after-all,” Angel teases. “I wanna know all the shit you did when you were alive! You sound like a good time, Y’know my girl buddy would love you-”

“I think that’s enough for today.” A staticy voice interrupts the conversation. Your head swivels to meet the demon who carries a strained smile. The hair on his ears stick up in a frenzy while his claws grip over the top of his microphone cane. 

“But Alastor we barely got star-”

“I think,” Alastors voice grows with static, every word pronounced precisely, “that is enough for today.”

Angel's legs slide off you as he stands to stretch, “Aww what a buzzkill.”

Before you have the chance to leave the room, your face is met with Alastor’s chest. 

He lifts his chin, but his eyes bore down at yours. Your eyes shoot wide with the proximity, and something within his chest spurs as wait for him to speak. 

“I would like to speak with you privately, my dear.”

Following him up the stairs and into his radio tower, you tread lightly in new territory. Papers over his desk are neatly stacked next to a forgotten cup of coffee. The walls are floor to ceiling windows overlooking Pride, you’ve come to know. Dusk stretches the horizon and little dots of light twinkle in the distance over the city. On the other side of the room, old equipment lined the wall. Hundreds of knobs and switches cover the machines and you wonder how he’s able to work such equipment. Speakers, extra microphones sat upon a bookshelf along with books, magazines and other nic-nacs you’re sure he has collected through the years. 

You’re not sure how old the demon is, and you’re not sure how you haven’t thought about it since meeting him, especially when he has taken up most of your mind these past 24 hours. 

You guess he’s from the roaring 20’s? 30’s? He’s dressed sophisticatedly with not a hair out of place. His posture paints him a perfect gentleman in a society where it mattered. His transatlantic accent was smooth and you long to hear it more than you should, or do. And guessing by this set up, the ON AIR sign that hangs directly over his desk, you could be right. 

But what of this demon? What is his story? You’ll put a pin in it and ask angel later-

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here so I’ll cut to the chase.” Alastor’s arms are neatly behind his back as he looks over Pride. Without turning to you, he continues. 

“I’m looking for more help around the hotel. Husk’s job is primarily tending to the bar, Nifty cleans and Charlie is over her head with trying to recruit sinners. I’d like to say that I have everything handled with paperwork and trying to keep this pace afloat, but I don’t.”

Your brows furrow in confusion. He.. can’t handle it all? He definitely gives the calm, cool collected attitude of one who would never need help. 

“So, you need my help? I thought I was just a sinner trying to get redemption?” 

Alastor stiffens for a moment before turning to you. “I thought you should know that Charlie and I had a discussion earlier. We think that you fit into the family seamlessly. We both thought you would be great at helping us with our little project.” He tilts his head, scanning you over, “Unless you don’t want to?” 

You shake your head. This might not be a bad idea. This could actually help you in more ways than one. This could help you more with gaining redemption and be a part of a bigger picture. 

“No, that all sounds great actually. What exactly do you have in mind for me to help you with?” 

“More of the mundane things like checking over the hotel to make sure everything is in order, placing orders for food, toilet paper - the essentials.”

“So the mundane things you don’t want to do?” You laugh lightheartedly. “Sure, Alastor, I can do that for you. Do you have a check list for me?”

In one snap, Alastor conjures up a daily ‘to-do” list for you. Your eyes widen at his magic.

“If you can do that, why can’t you make food and toilet paper appear instead of ordering it?” 

His smile is smug, “It’s a lot more complicated than that, little doe” 

Turning on your heel, you say over your shoulder, “One day, I’d like to properly thank you for the flowers you left me.”

He watches you disappear through the doorway, confusion carved over his face. Flowers? 

What an interesting thing to say… An odd woman. 

Woman. Your presence had been the first in his studio.

Charlie and the guests know that no one is allowed in this room, for it’s locked 24/7. This room is his pride, his sanctuary and the one thing he’s carried on since dying. Besides killing and torturing innocent people, he supposes. 

Clawing at the staff of his cane he shakes the thought of your company being… comforting. 

His ear twitches in frustration. This foreign feeling- this odd hunger for catching your eye in a sea of others, to smell you near has become a twisted form of entertainment. He has to ignore the way his lower belly heats and aches when you're near…Is it entertainment? He stares at the door where you just stood. 

Is his curiosity growing in the little moments you spend together or is it something he can’t pinpoint? His facade will fail to hold if he continues like this. 

A predator assessing his pray like it’s a game. Except, it doesn’t feel like that kind of a hunt. 

-

Stepping out from the bathroom after your nighttime routine, a darkness catches the corner of your eye. 

“Hello?” you call out. 

The darkness in the corner slithers across the floor and manifests itself in the center of your room. 

You curse under your breath, while it’s not the craziest thing you’ve seen, it’s definitely unexpected. 

“Um, hello there…” You stay standing in the doorway of your bathroom. Looking the creature over as it stands tall. 

The creature, no, shadow, is dark, but you can make out that its body is made up of swirling smoke. It’s face gives a chiseled smile, imitating teeth through the smoke, and resting on top of it’s head were a pair of outgrown antlers that stretch wide. 

You tilt your head at the creature, curious on why it hasn’t responded to you. 

It tilts his head back, mimicking your movement. 

“Cute,” you giggle, “what are you?” 

The shadows' eyes glow green in response and gives you a bigger grin. 

“Are you here at the hotel too? I just got here yesterday…” you shift on the balls of your feet. “Do you have a name?” 

The shadow dissipates into the ground and for a moment, you’re spooked. Backing up into your bathroom, a coldness caresses your neck from behind. 

Spinning around fast, you’re met with it again. The creature folds forward to meet your face. 

Oh fuck no. 

You fumble backwards a little too fast but the creature is quick to catch you by an arm. It steadies you easily. 

“You’re.. Good, right? Friend?” The words fall stupidly out of your mouth. You feel like you’re talking to a child in simple words and a sweet voice. God knows that this creature is probably thousands of years old but you’re speaking to it like it lacks some form of intelligence. 

The creature smiles and nods, backing away from you before wisping itself around your body in a cloud of smoke. 

Warmth surrounds your body, unlike the coldness around your neck from before. 

“Friend, okay…good.” You smile and embrace the dance it gives you.

The creature manifests itself over in front of your nightstand and the bundle of shadows steps aside to reveal the red peonies from this morning. Your eyebrows raise and realization hits you.

“That was you? What a lovely gift to give.. To me.” Surprise followed by stupidity hits you in the last bit of that sentence. 

How could you be so stupid to think Alastor would give you those flowers? He hasn’t even spent much time around you, let alone want to speak to you. Every time you’re in the vicinity of him, he pretends you don’t exist. 

Foolish. 

Foolish to think that he would even take a liking to you. 

And you mentioned it to him hours ago… God, he’s probably so confused and you look like a fucking idiot. 

The shadow slumps at your reaction. Its swirls grow faster over its body, like the wheels in its head are thinking of a way to cheer you up. 

Warmth caresses around your hips and playfully drags you to your bed. You let it happen because, for some ungodly reason, you trust this shadow. 

It’s gentle hand lingers over your face, brushing over the skin of your cheek. A familiar feeling. Almost like the feeling of last night when Alastor’s-

No. 

The creature lifts your chin to look at him as he takes a seat by you on the bed and you mentally brush away the cringe.

You both stare at each other for a moment. You're entranced by its odd behavior. Although, its presence feels familiar, a kind of nostalgia you cannot place. His warmth feels like a gentle hug, a friend in the darkness when you're alone. 

The faint smell of whiskey, a bar of soap and lemongrass. 

A warm song that dances inside your nostrils. 

Your room is quiet, as you let the shadow tickle your face and neck. 

Soft music begins to play when your eyes fight sleep. But you give into the lull of the shadows lullaby. 

-

From that first night of meeting the creature, you’re woken up gently by it patting your head and urging you to get dressed. Funny enough, the creature disappears while you get ready, giving you privacy. But ultimately, you wouldn’t mind it at all if it stayed. 

One night, after a particularly hard day working under Alastor, you named the being. 

Umbra.

Not the most creative, but it was the first thing that popped in your head… and he, you’ve come to find out, was quite happy with the new nickname. 

You weren’t sure where he came from, what he is, or what manifested himself to you that night, but you’re thankful for the company. 

Umbra was quiet. He never spoke, but damn is he funny. Every night, he meets you in your room practically bouncing off the walls, or more so sliding everywhere in a mist of shadows and patiently listens when you talk about your day. 

Every morning you wake up with new little flowers over your unoccupied pillow. Each of them a bundle of red, for some reason. But lovely all the same. 

It became a nightly routine to where he’ll lull you to sleep with gentle caresses and soft old-timey music. 

And it’s given you the best sleep of your life. 

Alastor however, has been more distant than before. When asking for new lists everyday, he’ll stare down at you through lowered eyelids and hand you a list bigger than the last. 

He never questioned your flowers comment, but you’re sure he hasn’t forgotten. 

Though, through his aloof attitude, he still invades your personal space when talking to you - and he only talks to you when it’s absolutely needed. His stare burns new holes through you everyday before he locks himself up in his radio tower until dinner or Charlie's group exercises. 

“Smiles has been such a fucking jerk lately, what did you do to’m?” Angel slumps over the armchair, preoccupied with texting. 

“Me? He hardly talks to me! Everyday he’ll just hand me a list to do and disappears.”

“That’s exactly the problem, ever since he’s offered you a job here he’s been acting like there's a stick up his ass more than normal. You must being doin’ shit at your job.” He nudges you and you both laugh. 

“Yeah, no idea. I try to talk to him. He’s the one person in this whole place I don’t even know about… but he ignores me.”

“I don’t think he completely ignores you, doll face. Do you notice how you’re the only thing he can look at when you’re around? Hard to get him to help Charlie lately, too.”

You blush and drag your gaze to the floor. “No, I didn’t notice that. What’s his deal anyways?” 

Angel went into detail about how Alastor wa/is one of the most powerful overlords in the Pride ring. 7 years ago he disappeared or some shit but 7 months ago he came back and randomly ended up here. Some bullshit about wanting to help Charlie with her ridiculous delusions about saving a sinner. He’s just here for the ‘entertainment’, but he’s been a big help honestly. Especially in his battle during the extermination - before he got wounded. 

Wounded? He could get hurt? A powerful overlord who has thousands of contracted souls could get… hurt? But there airs another question…

He doesn’t believe in redemption? 

Your thoughts were cut short by a shadow carrying a mischievous grin lurking in the hallway. Umbra swirls in a mist of shadows as his eyes glow green and gestures for you to follow him. 

Raising from the couch you head his way. 

“Maybe he just needs some good head!” Angel calls out to you.

You follow Umbra as he slithers over the carpet, manifests himself over the walls and guides you upstairs. His cute grin makes you laugh, and you're excited to see what he has in store for you today. 

Not noticing that you pass your own room, your eyes only watching Umbra flee with excitement, he leads you to a door at the end of a hallway. He turns to you, looking you once over and dissipates through the door. 

Knowing you want him to follow, and without a second thought, your hand turns the knob and you fly inside Alastor’s radio room. 

There, hunched over his desk wearing only his long sleeve undershirt and pants, Alastor’s back is turned to you. 

“Who the fuck,” Alastor’s head turns over his shoulder, black eyes blown wide as his red pupils snap to you. 

“Alastor- shit, I’m,” you back away, accidentally shutting the door behind you. 

“Has anyone taught you proper manners? Don’t you know that walking in on someone is-” Every word cuts through you like a knife, the static in his voice grows louder in every syllable. The lights flicker around you as Alastor’s body grows larger in scale, his antlers growing wide. 

“I didn’t know!” You yell honestly, you didn't know. Or, you weren’t paying attention. 

“The door was locked, how did you get in here?” Red liquid oozes out of his mouth as his empty black eyes stare you down. But you’re not looking at the anger on his face, or the way his body engulfs the room. No, you're looking at how his arm covers a wound on his side. Your eyes scan to the side, where ointments and bandages lay askew over his desk. 

“You’re hurt, Alastor.” 

The radio demon stops, and for a moment, you catch surprise painted in his features. 

“Let me help?” You offer, taking a step forward. 

He doesn’t move. 

“Get out.” 

You step forward, unafraid of his form. He's hurt, and you can see the blood squelching against his hand, dripping to the floor. 

You reach out, covering your hand over his bloodied one and your eyes flicker upwards to the beast before you. 

A silent plea to let him help. If he’s been doing this on his own since the extermination, he hasn’t been doing a great job at mending it. 

He gives a frustrated sigh, and shrinks back down to his normal self. Internally rolling your eyes at how easy that was to do… an all powerful overlord listening to you was a confidence booster to say the least. 

You look down to assess the wound. His red undershirt wet and stained with blood on the right side of his torso. 

You flash him a look for silent permission, and he nods ever so slightly, his eyes fixated on your face. You begin to unbutton his shirt from the top down. You scan your fingers delicately over his chest and down towards the wound. Alastor lets out a shaky sigh that goes unnoticed by you. 

You expose his torso more by opening up his shirt to get a better look. Alastor leans back in his chair and curves his hips upwards ever so faintly. You swallow, fighting the demons in your head to take a closer look at his exposed body. 

“Looks… bad.” You manage to say, focusing only on the wound before gentle fingers slide under your chin and angle your face upwards so he can see you fully. 

And you swear, that for a moment, something swirls deep within his gaze. Something more than he lets on. A flash of hope? Eagerness?

Now’s not the time.

You clear your throat before grabbing supplies and getting to work. 

Alastor was silent as you mended him. His eyes never left your face as you cleaned the wound and bandaged it neatly. 

“All better!” You chime, doing your best to ignore the buzz on your chin from his touch, “Next time you try to do this yourself, try to find me? I don’t think it’s healed right for at least a couple weeks. You’re lucky it hasn’t gotten infected.” 

“We’re in hell, dear, I’m sure there’s worse things to worry about than an infected wound.”

He didn’t even bother to say thank you. 

Is this the sophisticated and well-mannered demon Charlie raved about? The helpful demon that made this hotel?

You let out a breath you didn’t know you’ve been holding and your shoulders shrug downward. 

“Is there a reason why you’ve been so avoidant since I arrived? Everyone has been talking about how you’ve been acting differently since I showed up. Why is that? Did I do anything to you?” You avoid his eye contact by putting away the medical supplies inside a metal box. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, dear. I’ve always been the same.” He leans back in his chair. 

Something doesn’t add up. 

“Everyone talks about how you’re this powerful overlord, yet you lock yourself up in this tower all day and night. They all talk about how you were always around and ever since me you’re nowhere to be found.”

“I’d watch your mouth, little doe.” He snarls, but doesn’t move from his chair.

You stand, and for once you’re just taller than him even when he’s sitting down. Stories you’ve heard, the things the other residents say about him - nothing is adding up. Angel even went out of his way to ask what the fuck you did to him to act like this. 

“I can’t help but think that you’re trying to avoid me. Are you scared of me or something? Or do you just like to see me do all of your bitch work so you don’t have to look at me?” 

“And why,” Alastor stands, towering over you. You never realized how much taller and broader he is compared to you. His entire frame engulfs your size. “Would I be scared of a pathetic, weak sinner who died so easily doing something so reckless and ended up here?”

A beat, “I’d go far as to say you’re forgettable in this cesspool. Why would I go out of my way to avoid that?” He hums, lowering to your level at the waist. You want to punch that smug smile on his face. 

You ball your fists and keep his eye contact. You scrunch up your nose and grind out every word with anger, “That’s hilarious coming from someone who did the same. Not so different, you and I.”

You didn’t care enough to see his expression before turning on your heel and head straight to your room.

Sinking onto your bed, you throw your head between your hands with a groan. 

Asshole. Fucking asshole. 

It doesn't take long before a presence in front of you lingers, and a warm caress slithers over your cheek. 

“Not now, Umrba. I’m not in the mood.” 

Umbra’s smokey hand tugs gently at your arm, pulling it forward and causing your head to droop. You allow him to pull you up and into an embrace. 

Scents of whiskey, soap and lemongrass once again fill your head. A lovely haze that you’ve come to cherish. A friend. 

A comfort. 

A beautiful melody fills the air, and swallows you whole. Umbra’s body shakes with a staticy old tune. 

“I’ll never smile again, until I smile at you”  The voices sing a beautiful sorrowful melody, filling the air. Umbra’s arms skate over you and places his hands in yours. 

The stance of a dance. 

Umbra guides your one arm over his back, there he rests the other around your waist. A close embrace that you happily welcome.

“For tears would fill my eyes, my heart would realize…” 

Guiding your hips in a gentle sway, you rest your cheek on his torso. The both of you sway to the melody slowly in your dimly lit room. 

And, like always, the shadow doesn’t say a word. And maybe you like it that way. With all the chaos pounding loudly in your head, Umbra can always grant you the safe space you need. No judgment, no games. 

No words. 

Umbra pulls you around in a dizzying spin on your toes, earning a giggle from you. The music crescendos softly.

“I’ll never love again, I’m so in love with you…”

Guiding you around your room, you follow his lead. Wisps of smoke trail after him and curl at the bottom of your feet. Warmth is all you can feel. 

You’re picked up swiftly and spun like a child before being placed softly in your bed. Umbra continues to play the melody until you are cast away in blissful sleep. 

“Within my heart, I know I will never start to smile again, until I smile at you.”

taglist : @hazbinsimp777 @rapturenyx @kaytemchugh

[cera-writes]

"Ma chère, you are mine."

🃏part One

pairing: Remy "Gambit" LeBeau x F!Reader Tags: slow burn, angst, jealousy

Remy never thought there'd be someone else besides Rogue who'd just waltz into his life, but there you were.

A/N: This fic is based on episode 5 of X-Men 97. I might make a playlist for this fanfic if ya'll want it!

Rogue had talked you into going, much to your disdain for parties.

The Genosha Gala was meant to be the biggest celebration for mutants of the year. You really didn't bother with going, since you'd originally made plans that weekend with Morph to just hang out on the couch at the Institute watching cheesy B rated movies together. But Rogue had a way of always talking you into things with that smooth southern drawl of hers.

Plus, you had never actually seen or been to Genosha yet. The thought of seeing it in person intrigued you.

"So lame. I bet you're really only going for a certain ragin' cajun. You know, one that looks like this," Morph teased you as they shapeshifted into an uncanny version of Gambit.

"Save it," you smirked, pressing a finger against Morph's lips as they leaned in for a kiss in true Remy fashion. "You know I don't care...obviously he's only going for Rogue and well, I guess I am too." you sighed, thinking of how awkward the ride to Genosha would be with Rogue, Gambit, and Magneto. Somehow, you really felt like a third wheel in all of this.

"He'd be crazy not to make at least one move on you at the gala. I mean look at you. You in that little black dress you packed in your bag would make anyone swoon." Morph confessed, changing back into their usual self as they eyed your duffel on the floor.

"Thanks, but can we drop this? The sooner this whole trip is over the sooner I can get back to watching cheesy horror movies with you in the meantime," you tucked a piece of stray hair away as you reapplied some pink gloss on your lips.

Morph simply shrugged. "I wouldn't blame you if you stayed out all night after the party with Remy. Go do your thing girl and get your man."

Morph tossed you a wink just as soon as Rogue stepped out of her room to meet you in the hallway. You could see a twinge of hurt in her features. Had she somehow overheard the two of you talking?

"Hey sugah, you ready? We best be leavin' now. Magneto is waitin' for us on the ship now. I promise I'll bring her back sooner than a hot knife through butter." Rogue quickly changed her tone as she approached you and Morph.

Rogue always looked so flawless. She could make a potato sack look good if she wanted to.

You gave a small wave to Morph as the two of you headed to the ship destined for Genosha. Gambit approached you as you neared the ship.

"Allow me," he smiled suavely as he took your duffel and swung it over his shoulder, allowing you to step inside the Blackbird.

"Always the gentleman," Rogue remarked, eyeing the two of you as she took her seat as pilot.

You and Gambit took the passenger seats in the back as Magneto and Rogue sat up front.

There always seemed to be some sort of tension whenever you, Rogue, and Gambit were in a room together. It was always somewhat stifling. Gambit had always confided you in but never as anything more than a friend. He was head over heels for Rogue and you knew that. That's why you respected his decision to pursue her.

Rogue was your friend as well. The two of you were inseparable when you first came to Xavier's School. You had the power of turning yourself into intangible energy, summoning your entire being as light or darkness that could burn or blind anything it touched, hence your mutant name, Eclipse.

You were happy for the distraction your headphones provided as you took out your cd player from your bag. 'Don't Speak' by No Doubt assaulted your ear drums as you sat next to Gambit. How ironic.

A few hours passed before you finally neared your destination. You had shamelessly dozed off, headphones long since fallen from your head to your shoulders before Gambit startled you awake.

"ughhh, this is taking forever..."Gambit sighed. You pulled your headphones completely off before nudging his shoulder. "Sorry chérie," Gambit smiled sheepishly.

"Probably needed to get up anyway," you stretched your arms high above your head before Magneto spoke next.

"Gambit, please remember that should the new Blackbird suffer a malfunction, you are the only soul on board for whom gravity would most certainly be an issue."

Rogue let out a huff of vexation. "Can it, you roosters. Look-y ahead!"

You shuffled in your seat to get a better view of your destination.

There it was in all its glory.

Genosha.

"Keeyah...They been busy doing a bit of renovating since Gambit's last visit."

You peered out the window alongside Gambit. "It's even more beautiful in person!"

Your eyes took in the vast island settled in the middle of the ocean inside its own tropical paradise.

"Isn't it though?" magneto smiled.

The Blackbird landed with ease as you all started exiting the ship.

Madelyne was the first face you could spot as Rogue quickly flew down to greet her. She and Rogue made conversation as you walked out practically side by side with Gambit.

You couldn't help but catch Gambit's words as he mentioned something about two being better than one and far better than three when he struck up conversation alongside Rogue and Madelyne.

Heh. Wouldn't you know.

Then Magneto had said that Gambit insisted on coming. You knew damn well why. And here you were on the account that Rogue wanted to show you what Genosha truly was. Maybe a quick tour of the city would take your mind off of things.

It didn't take long at all for a most welcoming distraction as soon as you witnessed a puff of blue smoke and shadow engulf you.

"Kurt!" you grinned, wrapping your arms just as tightly around your best friend. Besides Gambit and Rogue, Kurt was your main squeeze, your other wing-man, if you didn't count Morph.

He was soon teleporting all three of you around Genosha like it was nothing. Apparently, Kurt was there on his own faithful business.

Either way, you were so happy to see another familiar face.

"Eclipse, how've you been? I assume the ride here was pleasant?" He grinned as he took a seat from the balcony to look out into the vast city.

"For the most part," you took a seat next to him. He was eager to show the three of you around.

You were all soon standing in a courtyard of sorts overlooking a fountain in the city's square. There were mutant children playing in the streets, so freely and carefree, that you couldn't help but notice the vast differences already between this place and the rest of the world.

Children were so free here of the biases and prejudices unlike back home. It made your heart swell and suddenly you didn't regret coming on this trip regardless of your feelings for Remy.

"Oh my, it's just like he said it would be," Rogue spoke up almost dreamily as she watched the same scene play out.

"Who? The professor?" Gambit inquired.

You knew exactly who she meant.

But in Rogue fashion, she played it off.

Magneto to Gambit was like Rogue to you. It was so nauseatingly ironic that you could almost laugh if it weren't so cruel.

Relationships were cruel. That's why you'd never pursued anything with anyone, not even when the opportunity flamboyantly displayed itself at your feet to have a drunken one night stand with Scott before he and Jean got too close. You just couldn't bring yourself to even have a fling with someone, not if it still meant there could be feelings involved.

But god did it eat you alive whenever you saw Gambit even look at Rogue with that same longing you looked at him with. It pained you because on one hand, Rogue was your best friend, but so was Gambit. Neither one of them knew you had deep feelings for him.

You planned to keep it that way. But every time Rogue slipped off to be with Magneto, you knew exactly how it affected Remy. You were no short of a friend when he'd come knocking at your door late at night just to start ranting and popping off to you about Rogue and how much it pained him to see her with Magneto. How it pained him that he'd never get to feel her touch. And you had to pretend like his words weren't tearing and ripping you apart piece by piece.

"Daddy's chargin' pretty high rent."

Gambit's nonchalant words pulled you from your thoughts.

"Ignore him. Fly can't help but ruin honey," Rogue retorted in defense.

Ugh, here we go again with the awkward tension between those two.

"Or maybe Gambit's willing to ask questions no one else will."

He took a bite of his apple that Rogue paid for.

"Like why is Magneto suddenly mutant MVP?"

Suddenly, a plethora of lively music and singing thrummed through the air and Rogue took this opportunity to fly you and her away from the guys for a moment.

"Geez, sorry bout him. He always seems to be a Debby Downer when it comes to Magneto. It's your first time in Genosha. Rogue's gotta make lil' Eclipse feel welcome, not have her feeling like she wants to run off." she spoke to you as soon as the two of you were way out of earshot.

Oh if she only knew the magnitude of it all.

"I'm having a great time. The music, the people, it's really wonderful here! Thank you for letting little old me tag along." You offered a smile.

"That's a relief. Just wait til we get all dolled up tonight for the Gala." she winked at you, nudging her hips against the side of yours in a playful way.

Meanwhile, Remy and Kurt were still hanging back.

"For a man named Gambit, your poker face is very poor," Kurt smirked as he leaned into Remy's ear.

"Hey, mind your beeswax furball. Didn't go ringin' for no priest."

You were caught up in the vibes, the music, and the dancing when you dared look back towards the guys, offering Remy a small smile as your eyes met.

"It does not take a priest to see you and Eclipse's souls touch in every gaze. You know, I had thought that you and Rogue might have had something but I'm starting to see that may indeed not be the case," Nightcrawler suggested.

"Ain't the touch she be lookin' for. Rogue is...what we have or don't have...it's complicated. And whatchu mean? It ain't like that with me an' Eclipse."

Nightcrawler let out a hysterical laugh as he pat Gambit's shoulder. "You Americans. So theatrical Life is violins und close-ups. I blame soap operas. Just marry the belle and be done. If it's meant to be, it will."

Kurt didn't exactly say marry who.

Gambit smirked, shaking his head. He knew deep down, he'd never deserve either of you. Not to him, anyway.

"Scoundrels like me, we don't get no white picket reward. We too busy for love. Too busy sinnin'."

Kurt paused before simply saying, "There is no love without sin. For love is best measured in what we forgive."

Gambit smiled softly at those words.

A/N: part 2 coming! Let me know if you loved it and leave me some comments! ♥️

[blacknedsoul-blog]

The divorce of the White Raven was the chronicle of a foretold death

Now that the White Raven divorce officially begins tomorrow. I wanted to do a little review of why I've been looking forward to this moment for over 40 chapters and the delicious drama to come. 

The chapters of Annabel and Lenore talking in the greenhouse are wonderful for many reasons, but mainly because they lay the groundwork for what the conflicts in their relationship will be from now on, simply put: these two just aren't on the same page. 

Annabel wants to save them both, Lenore wants to save everyone.

Annabel calls Lenore "my favorite," "my darling," and "my petal"; Lenore understands "my companion animal" (and Annabel doesn't bother to clarify). 

Lenore says they are friends; Annabel clearly knows they were a couple.

Annabel tries to kiss her goodbye on the lips; Lenore kisses her hand. 

As the comic progresses -and especially with the last chapter released by the Freepass- the more fundamental root of this problem becomes more apparent: the White Raven don't really know each other, they think they do and, incidentally, insist on not listening to each other.

The Annabel Lenore Knows

The "disappointment rooms" are a Victorian myth (I say "myth" because there is no evidence that they were a widespread practice, although there are cases like Blanche Monnier's, they did not seem to be particularly common. But they exist in this comic, so they will be treated as real in this essay) were isolated rooms where a family member with a mental illness or physical deformity was kept isolated from the world, making him or her an outcast. 

We don't know the real reasons why Annabel wanted to get close to Lenore (this scene make it clear that it was of her own free will, something Lenore knows), but anyway, this was extremely strange at the time, the kind of thing that could severely damage someone's reputation if it became public.

In other words, for Lenore, Annabel not only pulled her out of the spiral of madness she was in, made her feel alive again, and treated her like a person (something that hadn't happened since Theo's death); she also put her reputation on the line to get closer to "the crazy woman in the attic". 

Add to that the fact that Annabel, like Lenore, is someone with an extremely protective personality, albeit in a much more subtle way: containing Lenore's outbursts by trying to distract her, complimenting her when she doubts herself, trying to give her a sense of purpose by asking her to write her a song, and automatically containing her own panic attack when she sees Lenore's horrified expression. 

To Lenore, Annabel is someone who would rather destroy something that makes her happy and be hated than let Lenore suffer for her absence.

This is a gigantic contrast to the Annabel readers know, yes, the basics are there: she is seen to genuinely care about Prospero, and gratuitous violence against someone who cannot defend himself infuriates her. But Lenore does not dimension how Annabel's methods of survival (shaped by her trauma of not being heard, reasons why she machines her way through people) make her a Machiavellian, manipulative and cold-blooded person. 

The last time Lenore saw Annabel in a situation where she could do nothing, she saw her give up. But readers know that this time, Annabel is willing to burn absolutely everything down to get them both out of it.

That is why the Duke affair takes her by surprise. Never mind that Annabel has said she's willing to destroy or trample anyone to get out of Nevermore. The Annabel Lenore knows would not be capable of that.

The Lenore Annabel knows

This part is more difficult to analyze, because unfortunately Annabel's memories are tied to big mysteries within the plot. On the plus side, this comic is excellent at dropping large amounts of information at the point of detail. 

The most obvious: Annabel is carrying around the ring Lenore had when she burned down her house, in other words, "Leo's" charade worked so well that the two of them got engaged. In other words: Annabel has seen this woman burn down a family home (perhaps with servants inside), fake her own death, steal, take a continental trip, change her identity and pose as a man, all to save her from an arranged marriage. 

A very "you and me against the world" situation. A scenario Lenore made possible by lying to basically everyone, even Annabel herself, who must have spent at least a few months believing Lenore was dead until "Leo" knocked on her door. 

Add to that these two scenes: in the first, Annabel seems pretty convinced that Lenore has a good idea of what's going on here...

And in this one, Annabel thinks Lenore is doing this out of guilt.

Again, this is a huge contrast to the Lenore we readers have seen throughout the comic: a person who desperately wants to show others the affection and security that no one (except Theo and Annabel) has given her. A mix of a naturally vivacious and caring personality with traumas from which her need for control stems from anxiety and a terrible fear of abandonment. 

In this light, Annabel putting Duke in danger to keep Montressor away from Lenore was something that was informed, known, and something that Lenore would agree with, because the Lenore she knows would be willing to sacrifice anything to achieve her goal. 

In that sense, that scene is foreshadowing. Not only did Lenore trick her into using a memory that Annabel does not have, but it comes right after Annabel confidently says that "no one knows Lenore better than she does.

The masks

One of the most painful tragedies of the White Raven relationship (besides the fact that it ended with both of them dead) is that one of the two has had to wear a mask on both sides of it: Annabel pretending that this relationship isn't as deeply ingrained in her as it really is, and then Lenore doing the whole "Leo" thing to be "the perfect fiancé" in everyone else's eyes.

Their divorce is imminent because both of them (especially Annabel) are projecting onto the other the expectations they have that are a product of the few memories they have been able to recover, rather than really looking at the person in front of them. 

I'm going to enjoy all the beautiful character development that comes from here on out, because they both have a lot of unpacking to do separately from this divorce arc. And, I hope that, when they can finally reconcile, we also get to see how, for the first time in the history of their relationship, Annabel and Lenore can actually see eye to eye.

[spamgyu]

PRETTY BOY // College!Mingyu AU – birthdays and i love you's

"Even if the sky's on fire. Got you here, it's alright, with me ..."

Started off as this prompt: no bc college!mingyu as someone who lives down the hall from your dorm and you always run into him doing something questionable genre: tooth-aching fluff PRETTY BOY MASTERLIST

This was her first time at his family home; and to say she was on edge was an understatement.

She's met his family a handful of times, able to count the interaction on one hand – but spending a whole weekend with them... that was nerve wrecking.

She felt as though she needed to be on her best behavior, not wanting to say or do anything that may cause his parents or his sister to disapprove of her.

It was Mingyu's birthday and contrary to how she thought he would be ringing in another year of his life, he carried on his tradition of spending it with his family – with a plus one, this time around.

Everyone else their age threw parties or went away for a trip with their friend group, going absolutely feral, as they celebrated another year around the sun. But just like before, Mingyu took her by surprise when he had notified her that he would like her to join his birthday festivities.... at his family home.

It wasn't anything special.

Just two days of being around his immediate family at almost every waking moment.

Y/n couldn't help but fall deeper in love for the boy as she come to realization that he was a family man – he loved bothering his little sister, helping his mother around the kitchen, and spending time with his father in the garage.

All with her in tow.

"I'm really glad you're here with me, this year." Mingyu hummed, a soft smile on his lips as his arms lazily draped around her waist.

They had just finished eating lunch in the garden, a meal prepared by Mrs. Kim with the help them two.

"I'm glad you invited me." Y/n matched the grin on his face, reaching up to wipe away a crumb off his chin.

He always did eat like it was a race; shoveling food into his mouth like someone was going to grab it off of his plate.

"My mom likes you."

"I would hope so."

"My dad and sister too."

"What about you?" She teased.

Mingyu shook his head. "Nope not me."

"Really now? You don't like me?" Y/n laughed, knowing that he was simply playing along.

"Nope." He popped his lips. "I love you."

Feeling the blood rush to her cheeks and ears, Y/n couldn't help but let out a giggle – her nose scrunching in the process. One of his favorite things about her, amongst the million of other mannerisms that had him swooning.

Mingyu could have sworn he felt his heart melt in an instant at the sight of the girl, who he once only dreamt of dating, practically become putty in his hands.

Using her finger to motion him to come closer. "Wanna know a secret?" She whispered, Mingyu nodding his head for her to continue.

"I love you too."

Mingyu had always been in love with the girl; his friends teasing him every time they had caught the poor love struck boy looking at her from a distance – back when she barely considered him as a friend. To anyone, this moment may have been something so casual; something so minuscule, but to Mingyu it was everything.

He didn't care about the new car parts his parents got him for his birthday, or the Chrome Hearths necklace Y/n gifted him – this was the best thing he had received all weekend.

"I love you more." He whispered.

"I doubt it."

Mingyu felt his knees weak; the feeling of happiness bubbling in his chest. He knew it wasn't a competition, but whatever love she had for him in her heart didn't measure to how he felt for her – the girl that made him want to be a better man than he was yesterday.

The girl that had made him feel like he had been living in a rom-com movie the past seven months.

The girl who he thought was far too good for a guy like him, spending nearly a week bragging to anyone who would listen that he had gotten the girl of his dreams.

He felt like a cartoon character floating in air, following her around with hearts for eyes – and he had no shame about it.

"I'll prove it."

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@thegirlwhoimagined @forcheol @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @niktwazny303 @fragmentof-indifference @leah-rose03 @haolistic @eclliipsed @joshuahongnumbers @gyuguys @yaaaridk @christinewithluv @yoonzinoooo @livelikejinki @watercolureyes @whoa-jo @primoisellerose @wonwoobestboyy @rakshithanotrao @mingcouper @aksweet7 @nikkell @raginghellfire @kriizztin @doubleshoticedshakenespresso @porridgesblog

(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)

[tales-from-elysivm]

I saw your bakugou with sibling reader! I loved it and would like to ask for a continuation

Maybe when the reader gets their quirk? And how would the family and others react if it does turn out to be more powerful than his

★。／ plus ultra: echo burst! ＼。★

pairing: bakugo x gn!sibling!reader (part two!)

(here's a link to part one if you haven't read it yet!)

fandom: boku no hero academia

word count: 5.4k

tw: none! purely some platonic, wholesome fluff. of course, a bit of cussing from bakugo, and some canon typical violence, unedited because i’m too tired for that-  (very little violence, only implied/mentioned, little baby y/n bakugo doesn’t need that–)

notes: this is my first fic sequel! on my old blog, i had a sequel planned out and requested of bakugo’s sibling ending up quirkless, so if anyone wants to see a secondary sequel about a quirkless!sibling as well, let me know! but of course, they/them pronouns for little sibling bakugo, and please enjoy! thank you again for requesting this fic anon!

! be sure to like and reblog if you enjoyed !

‘don’t touch that y/n.’

katsuki bakugo reluctantly holds onto the tiny, chubby hand of his little sibling, dragging them haphazardly through a crowded market aisle. despite being late to your appointment at the doctor, you had begged him to take you to get ice cream afterwards. your appointment had gone well, and mitsuki had demanded he do anything you wanted today.

he decides to let you loose in a merchandise store just off the side of the street. it’s the same one where you had gotten your all might onesie, and your favourite lunch boxes. he wouldn’t be surprised if it was the same place deku got all his merch too.

looking around at the merch, he can’t help but think of your appointment, though it hadn’t really bothered him at all before now.

things were great. your joints in your little toe showed you would get your quirk at some point, it would develop, which would no doubt relieve his mother - she had long ago begun doubting whether you would end up quirkless, and the idea had concerned her until she had almost driven herself mad. but, according to him, you were fine. a quirk would come to you eventually, it just had to develop, and he told bakugo that things would be fine with a hearty smile on his round face.

it had made him think - he would only admit that it was briefly - what it would be. your quirk. would it be explosive like his own or would it be defensive or weaker? despite thinking of this too, he didn’t really have the heart - and he had one, deep down, for you - to think of his sibling any differently.

‘katsuki!’ you come running up to him, a round bandaid on your bare arm from the blood test you undertook. you cried a little, but toughed it up, your eyes still slightly red. in your arms is a soft midnight plush, and you hold it out to him with the biggest grin he’s probably ever seen. ‘can i get a midnight?’

he looks at it for a moment. he doesn’t even bother asking how much it might be before he deflates at the doe-eyed look you give your big brother. you walk him to the counter and hold his hand while he pays for your new plushee. one you definitely didn’t need.

with midnight plush in hand, you let him lead you out of the store.

bakugo isn’t stupid, he knows the city isn’t safe when it gets darker. he knows that villains lie on almost every corner, and that he can’t always predict when or where they might strike. he had let you drag him anywhere, and stupidly he followed. because what kind of brother would he be if he denied you? that’s how he ends up halfway across the city and carrying you home while you doze off on his shoulder. your midnight plush pressed tightly between your backs. but something passes overhead, a dark shape in the sky. a shop alarm rings out through the blackness of the street. the night lights flicker on. 

it’ll only take him about fifteen minutes to get you home. but even he can feel the slightest thrill of fear that sets in. a prickling on his skin. 

then a bin in the alley rattles and knocks over. from the quick flash he can see, it’s not one of the villains he’s seen before, or at least no one important enough to remember. his grip tightens around your legs, hoisting you higher on his back before he continues his walk home, his steps quickening despite himself.

your head lolls on his shoulder, your face pressed into his shirt.

‘kat? what’s wrong?’ he doesn’t answer you, only slides you onto the concrete quickly and hides you behind an alcove in the storefront. he makes sure you’re hidden by the foliage hanging overhead. ‘katsuki?’

‘stay here, ok?’ he tells you quietly, ruffling your hair a little bit to calm the panicked glaze in your eyes. it doesn’t work. his parents were always better at this stuff. ‘don’t make a sound.’

you’ve watched katsuki fight before. you’ve seen villain attacks that he got caught up with on the news, as a u.a student it’s almost expected. but this is different. you had never seen it in person. never felt the heat radiating off his explosions, seen the buildings behind this villain crumble on impact, never felt the ringing of your ears when it finally bursts. no, this is different. katsuki has only been hit once or twice, dodging the villains knives that seem to almost miraculously float around him, flying in any direction he pleases. it scares you, just how close it feels now. you don’t think you like it very much at all.

but then katsuki dodges one of those flying knives, and on his cheek a shallow wound oozes a trickle of blood. he wipes it away nonchalantly, like this happens all the time. you had never seen something like this, he was always patched up by the time he came home to see you. but this is terrifying. 

without a thought, you leap forward from the alcove, little legs pounding the pavement as you plant yourself in the space between katsuki and the villain. your little arms outstretched to protect your brother, your midnight plush clutched in your fists. fat tears roll down your round cheeks and your lip trembles.  the villain laughs at you, you think. and katsuki yells at you to reach cover again. maybe he barks out some threat, hoping it would scare you enough to run away. but it doesn’t. instead, you let yourself be curled into his arms and you hold midnight like a beacon. your crying erupts into earth-shattering screams.

a shockwave bursts from your fingers, the force pulsating in your skin and travelling up your arms. it hurts a little bit, makes your arms shake. your knees feel weak as you hold it, the bubble growing until it pins the villain against the alley wall. it crumbles under his weight, pushing his form against the brick. even if you wanted to you wouldn’t be able to let it go. 

‘y/n, it’s okay, it’s okay,’ katsuki soothes with a hand on your head, shielding your gaze from the villain as he finally falls limp to the floor. not quite dead, not yet at least. ‘let’s go home, yeah?’

you nod up at him, and the shockwave droops, it fades, becoming a small bubble around you and your brother, encasing you in safety as you play with the tips of midnight’s hair. 

katsuki doesn’t quite understand it immediately, but it clicks for him as he reaches the front step of your home, looking down at your sleeping form cradled in his arms, he realises just how powerful your quirk could be. your cheeks are red and splotchy from your crying before, and yet you look almost peaceful.

he moves aside your hair, and looks down at your face.

despite knowing you would always be an amazing hero, now he knew for sure. now he could probably brag that his little sibling was going to surpass even all might. 

maybe, he wouldn’t mind you surpassing him either, if you kept smiling like you had.

[christinebloodwrittings]

To hunt or be hunted #4

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer Summary: Truth unveiled, Alastor being unusually touchy, Lucifer being himself. Warnings: Mentions of child death.

Hazbin Taglist: @sakuraluna2468 @boogiemansbitch @mysterypotatoink

One year and seven months left. You reminded yourself while watching the black snake tattoo that slowly made its way up your arm, soon it would reach your heart and all would be over.

“Ten years, you work for me at my Hotel, and if I can’t manage to convince you to find something good to do with yourself, I’ll set you free” Charlie’s voice resonated in your head, it made no sense, but the true meaning of the deal was that if she could manage to help you find a reason to continue living, you would have a permanent home at the hotel.

If she couldn’t, you would have your soul back, and then the snake takes care of ending your suffering.

A swarming of feelings and thoughts came from thinking about the countdown, “It’s probably the best” who was going to miss you anyways? No one did back at the living world, your daughter died post-partum, your husband had died because of his sins, most of your friends at the time flew overseas looking for a better life, and there was no family left to mourn you.

Still isn’t.

Your father and your husband were most likely around in hell somewhere, in a hundred years you haven’t bothered to check, probably ended up repeating the same pattern: Gambling, debts, death.

May was a dreadful month, Mother’s day, your daughter’s birth and death anniversary, and just by the end of it, your birthday. Turning 40 is bad, but imagine turning 140 years old, that is worse.

You died at 35 years old in the 1920’s, since that to now it’s been 104 years, plus your age at the time 139, now turning 140. “It’s a blessing that I stayed looking the age I died in, otherwise I would be looking worse” you outlined your hips with your hands while straightening the leather straps around your waist.

‘Y/n, can you come to the parlor please?’ you heard Charlie speak through. You immediately knew what was going to happen, giving that it was nine Am sharp, and you weren’t summoned to make breakfast.

She either told them, or Angel was going to be fried alive.

Just as you guessed, there was Charlie in front of the fireplace, as the rest, except Alastor, looked rather hurt and shocked, specially Lucifer and Vaggie.

“You called?” the smoke cleared, making yourself appear sitting on the couch next to Charlie. A gasp found its way out of Vaggie’s throat before anyone could say anything. The angel collected her thoughts and then she was able to speak.

“Charlie, what the fuck is the AXE-MAN DOING IN THE HOTEL!” Vaggie didn’t doubted a second to stand before her with the spear pointing at you, “She’s the chef of the Hotel” Charlie smiled weakly, trying her best to stay collected. “Since when?” the feline bartender asked, not minding your presence very much.

“Before it started actually, eight years now?” she turned to you for confirmation, which you nodded affirmatively. “And you hid this, because…?” Angel’s turn to ask. Charlie was in shambles trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t raise more questions, but failed, so you interceded.

“We made a deal; we don’t need to disclose the details, but it made her feel guilty” she shot you an unamused look before turning to her partner, her hand softly tracing the outline of her cheek.

“How come you got angry at me for lying to you, but you keep this kind of secret, honey?” ‘Oh hell no’ master or not, you weren’t going to allow that girl to talk to her (or anyone) like that.

“Hey now, whether she wanted to tell you or not it’s my and her business, but you hid the fact that you are an angel, worse than that a murderer, and no better than us sinners, so don’t act all hurt because now you two are even” your eyes lit up as the staring began to feel more lie a threat towards the fallen angel.

“You knew?” she diminished the distance between her spear and your neck, not earning a single flinch on your part, “One piece of advice, your golden blood leaves a trail, and the stench is very… specific, those like me that are used to blood can tell the difference” Alastor nodded in agreement.

“Why didn’t you tell me” Charlie sounded suspicions not hurt, to no one’s surprise really, “Last thing I knew I was a chef, not the gossip press” you took a look back to Vaggie, using a finger to lower the spear with zero effort, “Besides, wasn’t my secret to disclose” you winked an eye.

“Wait hold on, what makes the Axe-man want to work in a place for redemption?” Lucifer questioned, now more relaxed, he was all and hellfire before thinking you had taken her daughter’s soul. “She’s…kind of…forced to be here” another gasp.

Everyone turned to you, “I’m not ashamed of it, I got my ass kicked by miss sunshine here, lost my soul in the process and now I’m the chef” all except you and Charlie laughed, tearing up a little too.

“Charlie doesn’t own a soul, don’t be stupid, she’s lying right, Charlie?” Lucifer, watched his darling, perfect daughter image crumbled when all she could respond to that was a quiet shameful nod.

“YOU OWN A SOUL?” the shock was understandable.

It was too much for Lucifer so he sat beside you, holding his head on his hand, “Before you all judge her, I was stupid enough to challenge her when Lilith had just left, she was in a very dark place, my timing was terrible”

“How dark?” the king whispered your way, “I was her punching bag” he muttered a ‘oh shit’ both impressed and somewhat feeling guilty. They both had similar eyes when it came to pain.

“The infamous Axe-Man of New Orleans, I must say I am a big admirer of your work” Alastor came forward, grabbing your hand and placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles. “Oh, how unfortunate” he knew your name from above, so he lived around or in New Orleans.

“Why would you say that? You made an entire state fear your axe, for years there was nothing but jazz playing in the streets at night, and what’s best you were never identified nor caught” he pulled you from your seat, hitting his chest, his cane disappeared, leaving his free hand to sneak behind to hold your back in place.

“Well, I’m not that person anymore” Alastor drank in your scent, the sweetness burning its way down his lungs.

Every fiber, every hair on his body, told Alastor to run. Animal instinct, a deer in the jaws of a lion, a prey in front of a carnivore. Maybe because of the post-battle adrenaline he didn't feel the same instinct when you helped him. What will you feel with him so close? hunger? anger? lust? Curiosity ate him alive, he wanted to know what was telling you your instinct, how would it feel to be eaten by you.

“What made you bury the hatchet?” Angel’s pun made you smile, “Alastor” still in his arm, you felt him shift. “When you made yourself…present in hell, young, power hungry and all that, something inside me just told me that it was time to stop” ‘or else it was going to end with blood’ you thought. 

“Also before all this, I had heard about the cannibalistic murderer” you were aware of his aberration to touch, but given his closeness, you had no choice. Both of your hands settled on his hips, mostly for leverage, but to see how he would react to you.

“What an honor, I must say your performance inspired mine” his smile twitched, specially after feeling your warmth though his coat.

“You’re insulting me, Mr. Heartfelt” his chest tightened, a growl emanated from your throat, subtle but it made Alastor’s mind cloud a little. Focusing on your dilated pupils at all times to read any sign of warning, he saw nothing, no emotion whatsoever.  

“Your act was sloppy, careless. The bullied that became executioner of his bullies, tell me, do you feel better?” He didn’t understood what you were implying, once he tasted human meat he just couldn’t stop. He never asked himself if he was content, or if the blood made him feel better.

“You only targeted Italian mobsters; I’d say that’s rather sloppy” that’s all he could think, “And yet I didn’t allowed myself to be shot in the head” there was a weird aura surrounding you and him.

The situation was charming, two assassins of excellence, powerful Overlords with influence and stigma. Despite their sins, they were beautiful beings full of life and grace. Lucifer couldn't help but feel a tingle on his back watching such a scene. It seemed like they were going to devour each other, and relish in it.

“Disappointed?” your fangs shined with the firelight. “A little” he answered, expecting you to be more sanguinary, just as you used to be. “I’ll make Jambalaya today if that makes you feel better” but no matter what he did, while froze in place, like a deer in headlights, you couldn’t make him feel less excited, so alive.

“Thank you chérie, what about my work as of late?” reluctantly he let go of you, taking both of your hands in his.

“Very entertaining” he has a very slim waist, and yet it felt strong under your fingertips, warm. He has his hands and forearm blackened, just as his legs must be. The rest of his skin must be of that beautiful cream color. Of course, his chest wasn’t bald, like you he has a thin layer of short and soft fur.

“Get a room” Lucifer broke the moment, making Alastor’s eyes turn into the demonic radio stare you knew so well, “Funny I didn’t think such a tiny person could have a massive mouth” he then stepped away. Was it normal to be cold? Your body missed his closeness.

“Here he goes again, how about you help me with breakfast munch-king?” Lucifer felt his jacket being pulled off the couch, dragged by it towards the door that lead to the hallway to the kitchen, “Did you seriously called me that?” he allowed that, with a smirk he gave Alastor the finger.

“Want me to sing the song too?” you warned with a smile, “You wouldn’t dare-” your arm hugged his small frame into your side as you started to mock him, “Ding Dong the witch is dead!” you started, dragging the king down the hallway, “STOOP!” that was the last thing the crew heard before the door closed behind you.

🍎📻

“So, you challenged my daughter?” you hummed a yes, “She took the split a bit bad, huh?” on the corner of your eye you could see him sit on the kitchen island, just a few inches from where his daughter had hurt her hand.  

“I’ll send you my medical bill” your sarcasm made him laugh a little, “You don’t look like you belong in the sin of pride, yours must be wrath, isn’t it?” do demons look accordingly to their sins? You didn’t knew, “You tell me, I have yet to allow myself to ponder over what I have done”.

“I think I didn’t introduced myself, please forgive me” you left the kettle under the fire and walked over him, “My name is Y/n” you extended your hand to him, he took it with a smile. “Lucifer Morningstar, you may call me however it pleases you” his touch was gentle, but firm, you could feel his pulse though his gloves.

A thought tickled your brain, “In that case, would you like sugar or honey in your tea, Samael?” his eyes shifted, his horns grew. Like wood, like wood, his gaze was the same as his daughter's, and yet they harbored both hatred and sadness, both as deep as an abyss.

It shot an intense wave of electricity up your spine. You stood in front of the biggest predator in all of hell.

“Sorry, sorry, I just wanted to get a reaction out of you” he hadn’t let go of your hand, nor squeezed it, “I apologize, my king” your free hand caressed over the fabric.

He pouted, still not letting go of your hand. “If you let me touch your ears, I may forgive you” he turned back, you caught the sight of his tail slithering inside his pants.

“Sure, but please don’t get too close to the inside, my instincts are very strong and unforgiving, I would hate to have your blood on my uniform” You couldn't even finish speaking when he pulled your hand, immediately starting to touch the fur surrounding your ears. His knees settled on either side of your hips, taking advantage of the extra height the furniture provided.

“So soft, it’s so weird, a lion sinner, usually it’s a loyal, brave and true creature, heaven material” the sensation made your heart flutter. You felt like a dog, which made your ego bruise up a little, but at the same time his hands were warm and gentle, he took your advice and avoided the areas that you mentioned.

“Anyways, you’re forgiven, again, you’re very soft” Another cold feeling due to loss of touch, how annoying. You swallowed a lump of saliva before you could speak again, “Thank you, I take care of myself”.

“Oh and the note, thanks, it hasn’t been easy” he didn’t eased the pression on your hips,  “Marriage ain’t easy, and being apart after thousands of years must be rough” it’s not like the closeness bothered you, but it grant him a cocky smile and a sense of power over you, that feeling brought back the feeling of looking like a dog.

“I just…I wish I could make it up to Charlie” his hands grabbed one of yours, fidgeting with your fingers and the palm. “If it makes you feel more at ease, the sole fact that you’re here partially does more than enough” the light in his eyes lasted a few seconds, it was a lovely sight.

“Partially?” worried? Understatement. “If I say it you can’t hit me or anything” he made an X over his heart, then his hand went back to yours.

“She lied to you and you just went along with it? Parenting 101, mutual respect: she doesn’t lie and you don’t either” he applied a light pressure to your hand pads, making your claws come out and retract, that seemed to amuse him.

“So I have to…ground her?” his golden gaze went up to your eyes, but you were far too concentrated in his movements. “Well not now, but maybe speaking with her about it might be the right course of action”.

Melancholy, he had a feeling so he went for it.

“You were a parent?” he was right, your pained expression lasted a second but it was enough for him to feel a pang on his side. “For a day and a few hours” your eyes darkened, as it they were lost in a thought. The warmth of his hand on your cheek and a soft ‘My condolences’ brought you back.  

“I just know appropriate parenting by taking my parent’s example and do the opposite” you masked your pain with a smile and a smart remark, just like him, “Yeah, me too” his response made you scoff, “Where would you’ve sent you daughter for this kind of idea, Heaven?”.

Laughter filled the room. He wouldn’t do such a thing, nothing Charlie did would make Lucifer banish her anywhere, much less punish her like that for trying to help others.

“I had a different perspective of you” your tail stiffened around your leg, “What, a soulless maniac killer and nothing more?” you used to be like that. He laughed, “I mean, soulless indeed” you ruffled the hair that fell on his forehead, “But I’m glad I was wrong, thank you for taking care of my daughter, I see she trusts you a lot” you wouldn’t call it trust, nor she relied on you much.

Now that you think about it, taking care of her was instinctive, “I just grew used to her this past eight years” he smiled, “Thank you” he sensed the shift in you, the situation tensed up very quickly.

“Don’t, and just to be fully open about it, you were my objective” you would never show your fangs to anyone, looking like an animal doesn’t give you the right to act like one.

“Wait really?” his lips twitched, almost smiling. “I thought if I bruised up your daughter you would appear, but you saw how that ended” he hummed, rather amused. Your intimidation did nothing to him.

“Are you strong enough?” his question, he was insulting you? “Are you offering to fight?” you looked  at him up and down, not a trace of malice. “I mean if that’s what you wanted?” he was willing to fight with you? “I…I knew I wasn’t strong enough, nor I am now. To be honest, I wanted to pass to history as a crazy bitch who died at the hands of the devil”.

‘I’m oversharing, shut up’ you took a deep breath, adjusting yourself in between his legs, “I see” his breath hit your skin, “Now I just do this, and I’m fine with it”.

“I’d say, you’re terrific in the kitchen, no matter if it’s a served cold or hot type of dish, you always make it taste like home” your ears flattened against your head. “Thank you” he then looked up from your hand once again, a tender pink hue adorned your cheeks.

“Anyways” you got rid of his touch, as well as separated his knees just enough to walk a few steps backwards, “I have to make breakfast, and I just pulled you away because your constants fights with Alastor has gotten old very quick” you walked away, taking your white apron off the hanger, then tied a lovely bow on your back with the laces.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, see you later then” was that disappointment? You didn’t knew, and couldn’t care as long as your body remained trying to shake off the excessive heat, and the phantom of his touch still lingering. “Fuck” thinking about it made you cut your finger with a knife.

-------------------------------------------------

Stay tuned :3 Part 5

[rrxnjun]

dancing in my backseat ✲ l. donghyuck

pairing. film student! donghyuck x film student! fem! reader starring. uchinaga aeri genre. college au, acquaintances to lovers. fluff, comedy, suggestive warnings. mentions of alcohol and weed, swearing, sexual innuendos word count. 24k (24.047) a/n. please dont hate me for the fact that this does not have any expected smut in it i tried and it felt too awkward i just COULDN'T. also this fic doesn't fit the image of it i had in my head at all but i actually kind of prefer this version over the prev idea i had anyway <;3

playlist. marvelous - wallows / crash my car - coin / test drive - ariana grande / streets - doja cat / no manners - superm / feather - sabrina carpenter / AEAO - dynamicduo / wet tongue - thomas headon / car crash - eaj / delicious - the boyz / but i like you - boynextdoor

there are only a few things in which men value their social status; one of them being the number of girls in their bed, the next one their rank in league of legends, and lastly, their cars— or— where you would never fuck a guy without a driver's licence.

✲ PART 3 OF THE SIMPLIFY ROMANCE SERIES ✲

If anyone asked you about your relationship with Lee Donghyuck, you’d scoff at them and simply state that the resident gemini was your moral enemy. Was that true? No. No, of course it wasn’t– there was nothing this man has done in his life to get on your bad side, and you truly don’t feel any hatred towards him, but at the end of the day, it’s always easier to say this than to explain the exact feelings you have towards the male without sounding at least a bit overly-dramatic.

See, you don’t hate Lee Donghyuck; you don’t think he’s your enemy either– you just find him absolutely, excruciatingly annoying.

And it’s not his personality, no– although you do admit that the way he carries himself and has such high mind about himself is quite alarming– the way your toes curl and the hair on your body stands up, all alert in sheer ick and disgust, has nothing to do with his ego and everything to do with your experience with the man. 

The first time you find Lee Donghyuck intensely annoying is when you get a text one day (having acquired his phone number from one of the class group chats, since the two of you major in the same program), at 9 in the morning, approximately 15 minutes before you have to leave your apartment to get to your fist class of the day. The man picked the wrong time to bother you, since it was Monday, of all days– the beginning of the week always manages to rile you up just because it exists in the first place– and you could give him the benefit of the doubt and say that it wasn’t his fault at all and you woke up grumpy already, but the events that happened after made you so deeply disturbed and annoyed to your core that there truly wasn’t any other word left in your vocabulary to describe Lee Donghyuck than the adjective already mentioned – annoying.

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – hi im in a crisis lee donghyuck (film theory class) – can u pls throw some toilet paper lee donghyuck (film theory class) – we ran out and my roommate already left for class lee donghyuck (film theory class) – pleaaaaase

Staring at the texts appearing on your phone screen in a hurry, you stop in your tracks and furrow your brows at the contact name in confusion. The truth is, you haven’t spoken to Lee Donghyuck that many times– you just know that he’s friends with your friend Lee Yangyang from high school and you two meet occasionally at the said friend’s gatherings. Plus, you had a discussion or two about the beauty of Quentin Tarantino movies when you met at orientation in freshman year, and that's also when you learned that he’s your neighbor; in fact, the window to his flat's bathroom and his very own bedroom face yours. But that’s about as far as it goes when it comes to your closeness. You’re not familiar enough with him to text each other or to think of each other in a time of need, so to have his first texts to you be about him being out of toilet paper is a thing to really dwell on to fully understand the extent of the bad impression this man had on you.

you – what the fuck

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – just open the window and throw me some lee donghyuck (film theory class) – i am good at catching

you – im in a hurry rn. gotta get to class

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – SO DO I why else do u think id be up this early lee donghyuck (film theory class) – so PLEASE throw me the damn toilet paper so im not late today

Shaking your head in disbelief at the conversation you’re currently having, too confused and tired to deal with it so early in the morning, you walk up to your room and look out of the window. Right opposite of you, not being further than 10 meters, if you’re being absolutely exact, is Lee Donghyuck’s head popping out from the bottom rim of his bathroom window, seemingly still sitting on the toilet. The look in his eyes is desperate as he clasps his hands together and mouths “Please!” at you, his face forming into a truly humiliating scowl that makes you wonder if he's truly done with what he'd been doing on the toilet only a few minutes prior. 

Sighing, you turn on your feet and escape your room– not noticing the absolutely disturbed and mortified face Donghyuck’s pulling behind your back, thinking you abandoned him and took off for class– and you truly can’t believe yourself when you walk into your own bathroom and take the half-used roll of toilet paper off the stand, murmuring a silent “Fucking hell” under your nose as you walk back to your bedroom and open up your window wide. Donghyuck’s eyes light up now, as if he was a kid under a Christmas tree about to receive a gift from Santa.

“If it falls to the street, I’m not getting it!” you yell after the boy, seeing as he eagerly nods and ushers you with a wave of his hands.

“Just throw it and I’ll be sure to catch it!” he nods, waiting for you to start your career in the new twist on baseball– a sport you’d call a toilet roll throw against the street. His eyes seem focused, knowing this is his only opportunity at wiping his ass this morning (why neither of you thought of suggesting to use the shower instead, you don't know to this day– perhaps it was too early in the morning for such complex strategies), when you surprisingly do your best at aiming for his window– thank god you both live on the same floor– and throw the roll across the alleyway, the paper unwinding only slightly before it lands on the floor of Lee Donghyuck’s pearl white bathroom.

“Thank you so much, you are my savior!” he yells, his head disappearing from the window, leaving you alone in your room to watch the commotion. When nothing happens for a while, you only shake your head in disbelief once again, deciding your job here is over and you can finally take off for your dreaded lecture.

“I’ll get going!” you scream into the void, scratching the back of your neck, aimlessly. 

“Mhm! See you later!” 

Nodding to yourself, you sigh, closing the window and doing a double take as you’re about to leave your flat for class, hopefully still on time. In disbelief, feeling the second-hand embarrassment seeping to your bones, you put on your shoes at the entrance and swear to yourself that you’re never gonna answer any of Lee Donghyuck’s texts ever again.

The previous scene already established that you’re no stranger to second hand embarrassment. I’m sure all of you have experienced it before– seeing someone desperately flirt with your friend, knowing that they’re not interested… Watching a drama and being absolutely grossed out with the script, wondering how the actors got convinced to take on the role… Hearing someone say an absurd answer in class… There are many, for sure, and the list could just keep going. You saw it with your own eyes as well, when your friend Choi Beomgyu tried hard to impress a girl at the skate park and managed to fall off his skateboard mid-trick, tearing his jeans in the crotch area in the process. Or when your roommate Aeri got tipsy at the club and who she thought was a very fine gentleman to flirt with was actually her ex boyfriend. The list goes on and on.

What about first hand embarrassment, though? You’re sure you experienced it before as well, but if anyone asked you, you’d tell them you don’t remember any embarrassing stories. If it’s because you just don’t want anyone knowing about the shame in your bones or if you really hated those experiences so much you chose to bury them and extract them out of your memory, you won’t tell. You just won’t let the shame haunt you for any longer than it has to, that’s for sure. 

So when you walk home from the hairdresser one afternoon and you’re met with your roommate Aeri looking at you with lips pressed together, yet the corners tugging upwards in what you assume (and fully know) is her trying to hold back an amused laugh, you admit that your suspicions were indeed correct when you saw yourself in the mirror at the salon and you’re going to have to live through another embarrassing moment. One that will take days and weeks to outlive as well, since your hair doesn’t grow back overnight– and when you look into the mirror again, you’re terrified.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing, it’s just… you look… well, you know, it’s just…” she mumbles, before she finally breaks into a loud laugh, standing behind you and examining the state of your hair in the mirror of your entrance hall with you, hands coming up to play with your strands and hold them up and down, brushing your bangs out of your face and ruffling the top– trying everything possible to find a single good hairdo with the haircut you have going on right now. “Oh babygirl… what did the do to your beautiful hair…” she mourns, the tone of her voice still amused, but now also kind of considerate.

“I told her I only wanted a trim,” you say, voice weak in what you realize is you holding back your tears and suppressing a mental breakdown, “how the fuck am I supposed to show my face to the world tomorrow?” 

Your roommate sighs at you, spinning you around so you no longer can see the disaster on your head, a pout forming on her face as she lightly shoves you deeper into the apartment. “At a second glance, it’s really not that bad, you know–”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” you cut her off, annoyed at her soft eyes.

“I don’t?” she looks at you, shocked irises hardening when she realizes you no longer need her sympathetic words. “Okay, thank god. Man, she fucked you uuup, leave a bad review like, right now. I’d cry myself to sleep if I got a haircut like that–”

“I take it back, I liked your lies better,” you roll your eyes at her, walking over to the kitchen to fix yourself a glass of water to calm down your racing heart. The mental breakdown is still right around the corner and you realize you have to do everything in your power to stop it, because you already have a fucked up haircut– you can’t afford to show up to class tomorrow with puffy eyes and stress-induced pimples as well. Gulping down the cold liquid, you decide to hop into the shower (and avoid looking in the mirror at all costs, which is kind of difficult, since there's three of them just on your way to the bathroom). 

Meeting the encouraging eyes of your roommate once you come out of the shower, hair tied up in a towel so you don't have to think about it any longer, Aeri's words reach your ears in the living room. “Come on, I’m sure we can manage to do something with this tomorrow morning,” she smiles, “at least you have a pretty face. You can pull off everything!”

And the truth is, even though Aeri is nice, she’s not always right. You’re met with the fact the next morning as you watch your reflection in the mirror before you both leave for your shared Film theory class, standing next to each other defeated; one breathtakingly beautiful and one looking like the main character from Chicken little. You'd be fine with it if it was only you who was aware of your disastrous image, you would be able to deal with the shame and insecurity silently– but that's not what happens as you’re only reminded by the fact that other people, sadly, do perceive you, against your biggest wishes, throughout the whole day.

You’re reminded by the fact that your haircut is fucked up when Ji Changmin, the guy you share an Animation class with, sees you in the corridor and does the yikes face at you and his friend Sunwoo hides his face from you as they turn the corner. You’re reminded by the fact again when you see Jisu, the ever-so-sweet girl that majors in Finance, the girl that’s friends with everyone in this school, look at you with a considerate look, patting your shoulder when she passes you by before you enter your Film theory classroom. 

And most importantly, you’re reminded by the fact when you finally sit down– at the very back of the classroom, which is both valid and understandable, considering your current state– and you’re met with a thud of a backpack to your left, a figure sitting down on the usually vacant spot. Clenching your jaw and looking up to see its owner, mentally preparing yourself for the teasing that’s about to come, you meet eyes with a tall, sleek man, shirt tucked into his black jeans and a sigh of relief escaping his throat as he sits down on the uncomfortable chair. Lee Donghyuck waves at you in greeting when he notices you there, running his hand through his neatly styled hair.

“Hi there,” he breathes out, “can’t believe I made it on time. My alarm didn’t go off and my roommate couldn’t be arsed to wake me, even though our morning lectures start at the same time, so I had to run and my usual seat is taken already… hope you don’t mind me sitting here– woah.”

And here it is again– the feeling of absolute humiliation as the man scans you up and down, eyes bearing into yours with an unreadable look on his face. Is this how he felt when he texted you to throw toilet paper through his bathroom window? Or was he immune to the shame? 

“Did you get a new haircut?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you in question.

“Shut the fuck up,” you sigh, already annoyed with his antics– because frankly, you know what will come next. 

“That’s an interesting answer to a yes or no question,” he muses, chuckling to himself, “I’ll take it as a yes, though, but it seems like you’re not satisfied with the new look…”

“Woah. You should work with the FBI or something,” you mumble, averting your gaze from him and looking straight in front of you, praying for the class to start fast so you don’t have to interact with your neighbor any longer and listen to him make fun of you for your new look.

“Why? It doesn’t look bad at all,” he says, the tone of his voice fakely considerate, making you want to punch him in the gut, “It’s interesting. I like it. It shows off your eyes and your forehead more, since your bangs are way shorter now,” he says, putting emphasis on the fact that your bangs truly are half their original length– which wasn't your original plan at all– only riling you up more.

“Only thing left to add is that I have a massive forehead, isn’t it?” you ironically smile at him, and the male takes your word for it as his eyes focus on the exposed part of your skin, furrowed eyebrows and all, as he examines your features.

“Not massive, but it’s a little… like, I wouldn’t say–”

“Just don’t say anything, okay?” you sigh, cutting him off and folding your arms at your chest in a poor attempt at defending yourself.

“Geez, why are you so snappy? I was complimenting you, y'know,” he says, and if you were more stupid, you’d even believe him– the tone of his voice still sounds genuine, but that’s just the way your neighbor likes to deceive people, and you know that; you’ve seen it happen multiple times before. “It adds character.”

The comment makes you roll your eyes, all words taken off your tongue– you simply think there’s no use defending your atrocious haircut now (not that you tried defending it before, even you aren't that oblivious). Your gaze is focused anywhere but at your seatmate, counting down the minutes until the class starts and you're taken out of your misery for at least an hour and a half. Your Film theory professor is almost never late and now is the only day you’re content and happy about the fact, because it means you won’t have to listen to Lee Donghyuck for more than approximately 2 more minutes until the small, hunched over frame of your professor strides through the door. 

Still, you feel his burning gaze to the side of your face, and despite your best intentions, you snap your head towards him and bite at the annoying gemini.

“Take a picture, it will last longer,” you spit, scoffing at the male.

“Can I really?” he asks, and before you have a chance to disagree, his phone is shoved into your point of view and the shutter comes off, making you lounge after the man in a poor attempt at taking his phone away and deleting the first picture of your new hair ever taken. (Well, except for the one you took crying last night, with a peace sign and your tongue darted to the side against your mirror. You don’t need any more traces of your current haircut than that one.)

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – hi neigbor whatchu doin lee donghyuck (film theory class) – u have a car right

Squinting at the next text conversation with Lee Donghyuck, the first one since he asked you for toilet paper 3 weeks ago, you feel nothing more than pure confusion at the strange questions the man asks you in the middle of the night. It’s Friday evening and your roommate went out with a guy named Eric she met four weeks ago in the gym, and even though you were slightly concerned when she texted you to say she was staying over at his house for the first time, you only showed her support as you went to lay down with no other plans for your evening. Falling asleep to your midnight playlist playing in the background (thanking God for the smart feature that makes the music shut off after 30 minutes), it's completely understandable and predictable that the noise of an incoming text annoys you when you hear it only a few minutes after 2 in the morning. The fact that it’s your neighbor texting you, out of all people, only makes the fury in you bigger as you click your tongue and shoot him a quick text back.

you – what do u want

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – neighbor!!!!! lee donghyuck (film theory class) – you do have a car 

Staring at the text that just appeared on your screen, you sigh and decide to spill the truth, preparing for whatever request that’s about to come after you admit to the fact that you do, indeed, have a perfectly functioning vehicle parked behind the building.

you – yes 

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – perfect lee donghyuck (film theory class) – do u hav sm time on ur hands

you – im sleeping

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – veryfunny youre replying rn tho lee donghyuck (film theory class) – come on itsa simple request

Breaking your back just to decipher the words through the amount of typos Lee Donghyuck’s making, your annoyance only grows bigger. Has he always been a bad texter? You don’t remember him struggling as much when he was sitting on the toilet three weeks ago– his texts were absolutely clear and with 0 mistakes back then. Maybe he was in a more desperate situation back then, after all…

you – what do u want hyuck its late

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – can u drive me home

And here it goes– in the back of your mind, you somehow knew it was coming. There were only a few reasons why someone would ask if you owned a car, and judging by the fact that it was now 2 in the morning on a Friday night, your neighbor wasn’t trying to sell you a new vehicle just in case you didn't have one yourself. Getting a drive home would be the only logical request from someone asking if you owned a car– it would only be more logical if the person asking you was your friend, and not an acquaintance at best.

Staring at the screen of your phone, counting down from 10 to not snap at the ridiculous request, you watch as the device lights up with an incoming call. You don’t even have to look at the caller ID to know who’s calling, and despite your best assumptions, you pick up with no more thought given, waiting for the person on the other side of the line to speak first.

“Y/N,” he says, voice breathless. 

“Lee Donghyuck.”

“Can you please drive me home?” he asks, tone of voice lazy and tired, something about the dragging of his words hinting you that there’s more to the request than you’re grasping right now.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, right off the bat, to clear out any confusion. 

There’s a short silence on the other side of the line, one that hints that you’re completely right in your assumptions, but you still want to hear it from the guilty man himself. “Maybe a little,” he admits, snickering, “I was over at Yangyang’s and then he kicked me out and I… my legs hurt too much to walk home.”

Sighing loudly at the man’s antics, you shake your head in disbelief and clear your throat. “I don’t see how that’s my problem?”

“Oh, come oonnn,” he drags out, “it’s not that far.”

“Yeah, so I don’t see how you can’t walk back, then?” you mutter, rolling your eyes at the demanding tone in your neighbor’s voice. If it was anyone else, maybe, just maybe, you’d be on your way already. You never decline your friend’s requests for favors, since you know they’d do the same if you asked, but you don’t really see how Lee Donghyuck, a man you’re not even close to in the first place, could repay the favor. What on Earth was he thinking in the first place when he called you? Were you his last option? Is he out of his mind?

“Because my legs hurt, if you were paying attention, you’d know that I told you before–”

“I don’t really care,” you mutter, “this is not my problem, I’m ending the call now, goodbye!”

“Y/N!”

The tone of his voice is desperate. Laced in agony, even. Still, you don’t care as you cut off the line and close your laptop that's been your source of music during the late night, settling deeper into your sheets. This is not your circus, not your monkeys, and frankly, you don’t really care what happens to Lee Donghyuck on his way home from Yangyang’s house, no matter how drunk or high he is right now. The man has done nothing but annoy you in your short, 23 year old life, and you’re not going to change out of your pajamas just to drive a few miles to get your dumb neighbor back home.

You’re not going to lose your beauty sleep for this. No, not at all.

Still, your eyes only close when you see the light in Lee Donghyuck’s room go on and the shadow of his slouched figure safely hits his bedsheets, another smaller frame coming to close his door and shut the blinds off, turning the light back off. 

The next Monday, you find yourself sitting in your Film theory class alongside your roommate Aeri that’s currently snoozing in the middle of the lecture. You can’t really blame her, since she only got home from her romantic retreat (read as: hanging out at Eric Sohn’s house the whole weekend and having sex possibly on every surface of his little flat downtown) on Sunday evening, and you can only imagine that she didn’t have much sleep during her stay there. 

And the class was boring, to add another reason for your roommate's nap. It’s not like you weren’t interested in the theory behind every movie, like the topic itself wasn’t interesting– you quite enjoyed wondering about all the special details in each movie that complete the story and make the atmosphere pop just in the right way– but the professor currently standing at the very bottom of the auditorium is old enough to be there when the Lumiére brothers showed the first ever movie to the public back in the 19th century, and his age only matches with the monotonous style of his teaching. Which means that his voice is mellow, but close enough to a lullaby, and with the amount of issues you have when paying attention in general, the lack of focus caused by this only feeds your distraction during the lectures, resulting in you not really being the top of the class in this specific subject.

So when you hear the professor mutter something under his nose about a project in pairs you’ll have to submit until the end of the semester, you feel your heart drop down to your stomach, all alert. Suddenly, you’re 100% present, brain racking about all the possible solutions and ways you could go around this just so you could pass the subject this year. 

Because frankly speaking, at the moment, you’re failing the class. And if you don’t manage to get a good grade on this final project, you’re going to have to retake the class next year– and trust me, another year listening to the monotonous lectures won’t make you pass easier, since you can only imagine the boredom will only grow once you’re in this class the second year in a row and you'd already heard all of the lectures once before.

“What was that?” Aeri mumbles under her nose when she notices you staring at the front of the classroom with wide eyes, an expression close to one you'd wear after seeing a ghost (with the age of your professor, you might as well have). She often tells you you look like a deer in the headlights when you get shocked or stressed-out, and you can’t say that comment doesn’t make you insecure. Still, you can’t quite control it when you sigh and turn to your roommate with a distressed look on your face.

“We have a final assignment to do,” you mumble, “in pairs.”

“Amazing, we’re doing it together, then,” she yawns, stretching a little before slumping over the desk again, ready for round two of her nap. 

“Fuck no,” you quickly dart, looking at her with furrowed brows.

“What do you mean, no?” 

Sighing, watching as she opens her eyes and looks at you with an offended expression on her face, you shake your head in disapproval and lower your voice, careful to explain yourself. “Look, girl, I love you, you know that,” you assure, “but we are both failing this fucking class. And I can’t afford to do badly just because the both of us suck, because I am not retaking this atrocious class ever again, so I suggest that the both of us find someone with good grades to leech from and get this over with.”

Aeri squints at you, seemingly lost in thought– more so contemplating your master plan– before she leans back in her chair and cautiously looks around the room. “You have a point there.”

“See? It’s nothing personal,” you chuckle, seeing as your roommate nods to herself.

“Okay, I’ll flutter my eyelashes at Shotaro,” she turns to you, eyes bright with the newly made plan, “we’re both Japanese, so he’s not legally allowed to turn me down.”

Rolling your eyes at her comment, you only nod in approval to her idea. Shotaro was one of the best in this class, so you can imagine that working with him would satisfy your professor enough to let Aeri pass the class this year. The only thing left to do was find the culprit to your own plan– you needed to team up with someone good enough to at least make you get a D on your final. And since half of the class was just as good as you in this particular subject, there weren’t many candidates left.

Eyes scanning the crowd (thank god you chose to sit in the back again), your gaze lands on a particular man sitting a few rows under you, a little bit to your right. Helplessly searching through the flood of your classmates currently occupying the auditorium, you sigh to yourself in realization, already dreading what’s about to come when the class is dismissed and you hurriedly walk over to the only person that can help you now, before he escapes the university grounds and you’re going to have to shamefully text him or ring his doorbell this afternoon.

“Donghyuck! Wait!” you yell after him, legs taking you closer to the man in question, now standing still in the middle of the moving crowd, watching you in curiosity.

“What’s up, neighbor?” he asks with a lazy smile, the tug at his lips only making your blood boil and your insides tighten into a bundle of nerves. Everything about him was ticking you off, the slouch in his shoulders making you want to stand behind him and fix his bad posture and slap the back of his head so you no longer have to look at him standing like a hermit crab, the glint in his eyes making you want to curl your fingers into a fist and slam your hand against a wall. The seemingly strong emotions of annoyance run through your veins whenever you interact with Lee Donghyuck, it seems, but the senile voice of your professor keeps repeating itself somewhere in the back of your head throughout the whole interaction, and so you choose to take a deep breath in and out before you smile at the man and prepare your best speech– you can't afford to be picky with this any longer.

“Who are you doing the project with?” you ask innocently at first, trying to get some info out of him.

He offers you a suspicious look, but replies nonetheless. “I’m not sure yet,” he sighs, “I was thinking of chasing down Haknyeon, but you stopped me in my tracks…” he shakes his head at you, teasing. 

“Hmm, I see,” you mumble, more for the effect than for anything else, “well, what if we do it together?”

There aren’t many instances in which you could catch Lee Donghyuck completely silent. Now is one of them, though, as he watches you with wide, surprised eyes, furrowed brows and his plump lips slightly agape, breathing in a few times before he shakes his head as if to reset the system, snickering to himself. “Us two?”

“Yeah, why not?” you peep, shrugging.

“Look, respectfully,” Donghyuck starts, and you brace yourself for the impact, “your grades in this class aren’t as good as mine, and even though I’d love to do it with you, I don’t wanna be the one doing all the work and–”

“I’ll help!” you snap, maybe too urgently for your own liking. “I promise. I’ll do everything in my power, I just really need your help with this,” you plea, looking at him with what you pray are your best puppy eyes, seeing as the man in front of you chuckles at the expression and averts his gaze from you for a heartbeat, signaling that you were most likely unsuccessful at the attempt.

“Sorry, Y/N,” he shrugs, shaking his head at you, even going as far as taking one step away from you, “see, if you hadn't declined my call on Friday, maybe I’d take this offer as a way to repay the favor, but you know…”

“I threw you toilet paper before, Donghyuck, you can’t be shitting me right now–” you feel your blood boil at the note, the ever so familiar annoyance seeping back into your bones.

“That was nothing–”

“You seemed pretty desperate back then.”

“That was the past, sweetheart,” he chuckles, taking another step away from you, somehow overthrowing your annoyance with pure, embarrassing desperation as you chase after him and stop him with a swift motion of your hand, catching him by his wrist. He stares at you with a shiteating grin on his face, one he always uses to get a reaction from you, and somehow, you know this is all a game for him, a stupid tug of war, but you can’t help it– you are in a desperate situation. So if you need to say please to the man and humiliate yourself in front of him just to pass this class, then so be it.

“Please, Hyuck? Just this once, I swear I’ll make it up to you. Literally, say anything, I’m gonna do it, I just really need to pass this class,” you mumble, a pout forming at your lips as you clasp your hands together– much like he did back when you two communicated through the window of his bathroom– and you swear you can see the gears in his brain turning when he calculates his next move and tells you his answer.

“Anything?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” you nod, hoping that Lee Donghyuck still has some dignity in him and wouldn’t ask for anything that would make you uncomfortable. He’s annoying, sure, but he’s not a dick, after all.

“Okay, then,” he nods, tone of voice airy, underlined with laughter, “be my personal driver for the entirety of the project, then. I’ll do it if you drive me places,” he grins, and that’s when your composure falls.

“Absolutely not.”

“Well then, say goodbye to the grade!”

Putting your arm around the passenger’s seat headrest, twisting your whole body as you look back and reverse the car into the parking spot in front of the mall, you see the figure next to you still in its place, eyes alert and staring at you. “If you’re so terrified of me driving, why did you want me to do this in the first place?” you sigh, finally turning back to the front and turning the engine off once you're standing straight between the lines, satisfied with your job.

“That’s- that’s not it,” he clears his throat and gulps nervously, shaking his head. “Anyways, let’s go,” Donghyuck says, slapping his thighs like parents do when it’s time to leave a family gathering, grinning at you widely as he waits for you to get out of the vehicle.

“What do you mean, let’s go? I drove you here, I can go now,” you glare, not satisfied with the way your Wednesday afternoon was going. You only agreed to the deal on Monday, and Donghyuck already made you drive him home after class twice and also asked you to drive him to the school this morning. Having him constantly leeching around you and making you drive him places wasn’t exactly fun, since he always asked weird questions and made fun of your bored face at every red light, so you really, desperately, needed him to be gone already so you could head home and scream into your pillow to unwind the nerves. 

“Well, how am I supposed to get back when I’m done shopping?” he innocently asks, pouting at you. “My hands are gonna be full with bags and you’re gonna have to come pick me up, because that’s the deal, and I can’t afford to wait with my hands full until you get back here, so you might as well stay and come with me, so it’s convenient.”

“Nothing about this is convenient for me,” you mumble, but comply with his orders nonetheless. “Why don’t you get a car? Or take a bus back?”

“Buses smell and I don’t have a license,” he mutters, “besides, I have you now to be my personal taxi driver, so I don't need a car,” he shrugs, walking alongside you to the mall. 

His confession startles you, makes you halt in your step as the boy looks at you with defeated eyes, already knowing what’s next. This scenario has happened to him multiple times before– he’s best friends with Huang Renjun and Liu Yangyang, he’s in for a teasing at every single action of his that goes just slightly wrong– but to hear it from you will surely feel more humbling to the man. Closing his eyes as if to not see the grin overtaking your features, he sighs. “What?”

“You don’t have a license?” you tease, snickering. “For real?”

“No.”

“Why? You failed the test?” you ask again, catching up to the male and falling in with his quick pace, enjoying the fact that you now have the upper hand on him for once.

“Never really tried getting it in the first place,” he mumbles, shrugging. 

“Why?”

“I dunno,” he shamefully ducks his head, “it seems scary,” he adds, making you snort out at his confession.

“Fucking hell dude,” you laugh out now, swatting his shoulder in a teasing manner, “that’s so embarrassing, it’s not even really that difficult in the first place–”

“I don’t know what’s more embarrassing,” he cuts you off, tone of voice laced with frustration as he realizes you are a bit too amused at him admitting to one of his fears, “is it me not having a license or you driving me around because you're failing a class… Hm?” he asks, locking eyes with you, lips pressed shut into a straight line, and suddenly, your composures exchange. He won. Again.

“Anyways, let’s get going!” he smiles, dismissing the previous discussion as he tugs you by your hand into one of the stores right in the middle of the mall.

You should’ve already predicted that shopping with Lee Donghyuck would be exhausting. Not only did he demand to know your opinion on every single thing he tried on, he also wanted you to pick up something for him to try– as if driving him here wasn’t too much work for you as it was. All you wanted to do was walk back to your car and get away from him as soon as possible, but with the way he teasingly poked your sides every time you weren’t paying attention and turned to your phone to entertain yourself with some mindless scrolling on social media, you weren’t able to escape even mentally, no matter how hard you tried. 

“Why don’t you try something on?” 

“I’m not in the mood,” you glare, walking out of the last store in the whole entire mall, the sky behind the glass doors already dark from how late it’s gotten. You’re pretty sure it’s gonna close soon, but checking the time on your phone, you’re relieved to learn that you still have enough time to get boba from the stand at the entrance of the mall. You deserve a little treat after involuntarily hanging out with Lee Donghyuck the whole day, after all. Call it your girl dinner, or something.

“Taro milk tea with coconut jelly, please,” you smile at the tired barista behind the counter, noticing the way Donghyuck stands next to you and looks at the menu. You expect him to order a drink for himself as well, and surely, he doesn’t disappoint as he smiles at the girl, the tone of his voice sweet and considerate– so far away from the way he speaks to you on a daily basis– as he asks for his own drink.

“Will you pay together or separately?” she asks.

“Separate–”

“Together,” your companion cuts you off, grinning at you when you glare at the man, sighing at his antics.

“Come on, I already drive you everywhere, do you think gas is cheap? Now you want me to pay for your boba as well?” you whine, reaching for your wallet as you frown at the male, his confused eyes bearing into yours when he slightly nudges you from his way, offering the girl behind the counter his card instead. The action shuts you up, making the gears in your brain turn faster as you watch him in the action, and it doesn't fully register yet, but you're left feeling a bit taken aback and sheepish when the cashier hands him the receipt.

“I was gonna buy it for you as a thank you for the nice day, but now you’re making me look like I felt pressured to,” he sighs, shaking his head at your little tantrum. His actions still don’t register in your brain, though, his words resonating all the way through your ears to your Wernicke’s area and right back, hanging everywhere in the air of the mall, shock making your body still. Then, it hits you.

“Ah,” you gasp, feeling the tips of your ears burning with shame at the fact that you managed to ruin his nice gesture, your eyes scanning the space in a poor attempt to not look at him or the cashier still watching your exchange.

“Get your drink and let’s go,” he nudges you instead, rolling his eyes for good measure as he walks out of the mall, nearing your car in the parking lot.

“Look at this, look! Isn’t it funny?” Donghyuck hovers over you with his phone in his hand, giggling to himself as he tries to make you look at the screen. You don’t really know why he’s trying to get a laugh out of you, honestly, but he’s currently doing everything but that as you’re sat in his living room, legs plopped up onto the sofa and crossed in front of you, waiting patiently– but also kind of boiling on the inside out of frustration– for him to pay attention to you.

“Hyuck, I didn’t come here to watch Tiktoks with you,” you say, eyes sharp, tone of your voice cutting like razors– efficiently making him look up from his screen and meet your gaze with an amused grin, “I’m not really sure if you forgot, but I came to discuss the project,” you mutter, sighing.

“Jeez,” you see him roll his eyes, the energy around him still not shifting as he maintains his casual and unfocused composure, but you know that on the inside, he's enjoying the view– your angry face seems to be his most favorite thing to stare at recently, “didn’t know you lack a sense of humor.”

“What?” you look at him, confused, quite frankly, before you shake your head in disbelief at the comment. “You know what, just put the phone away for 5 seconds and finally talk to me about the project, smart boy, or else I’m not wasting my time here any longer and I’m leaving.”

“You’re acting as if you’re the one putting in work,” he mumbles, snickering.

“I will be putting in work when you tell me what to do!”

At your sentence, Donghyuck finally puts his phone back at the coffee table and shifts a little in his seat, facing you and scratching the back of his head, seemingly lost in thought. You let him, convinced that if you speak up and cut off his train of thought, the poor boy wouldn’t be able to get back to it again, waiting for him to be done with his brain weaving so you can pick up on them and ride them out, seeming at least decently smart (or not completely stupid). When he finally speaks up, he licks his lips and shrugs.

“We just gotta pick a theme and do our best portraying it with no words in a 3 minute clip, right?” he asks you in reassurance, as if you were the most reliable source of information when it comes to this class and its assignments.

“Yeah,” still, you agree.

“Well, then we just gotta pick a theme and the rest will be easy,” he nods to himself, reaching back for his phone, which you swiftly take from his hold and hide behind your body. 

“Hey–”

“We’re not done talking about this! I’m not letting you use your phone, because you’re just gonna scroll on Tiktok instead of thinking about this,” you squint at him, twisting and turning in your seat as his hands try to sneak around your sitting figure and take the device out of your grasp. 

He seems determined as his arm lands on your elbow, a victorious grin smoothly swiped off his face when you sit on his phone and flash him a wide grin. “I’ll give it back when we have the theme down!”

“That’s an invasion of my privacy,” Donghyuck mumbles, and you roll your eyes at him, pointing a finger to his shoulder.

“That’s not what an invasion of privacy means, but whatever floats your boat…” you mumble, watching him sit back in his seat, defeated as his shoulders slouch and his gaze is glued to the wall in front of him. You’re not sure what’s so interesting about the white paint, but at least there’s not the noise of his phone filling your ears right now– you’re more than okay with silence, since you don't get to hear it often when Donghyuck is present. You would like it better if he spoke up and talked to you about the assignment, but if you had to choose between him being annoying and him being quiet, you think everyone knows which one of the two you’d prefer.

“So?” you test the waters after a while, seeing if your project partner decides to finally comply with your request and discuss the important matters.

“So? Do you got any ideas?” he teases, watching you with challenging eyes.

Clearing your throat, caught off guard at the request– you assumed he’d tell you exactly what to do and you just have to do it and follow his lead, essentially not putting in much effort and still being sure of passing the class– but it seems like Lee Donghyuck won’t let you off that easily. You should've expected it. Being difficult is his favorite hobby, after all.

“Well, you’re the smart one here, so…” you shrug, trying the method that always works on men– and that is praising them.

“So you’re saying you’re stupid?”

“If it works in my favor during this conversation, then sure,” you nod, smiling at him in irony. Hyuck gives you a defeated sigh, shaking his head at you before he clicks his tongue at you and finally gives in.

“Okay, so, I was thinking we should pick a theme that fits the current social struggles, but after hearing this, I don't think feminism is our best choice,” he mutters.

“Like you’d know anything about feminism–”

“What do you have me for?” Donghyuck sharply glares at you, clicking his tongue at you in pure offense. “I am a fan of Little women, I'll have you know, of course I’m a feminist.”

“Well, you must be a fake fan, since everything about this deal is just me majorly girlbossing,” you point out, trying really hard to prove your point.

“Are you even being serious right now–”

“Anyways,” you cut him off, “what were you thinking?”

The man sighs and shakes his head at you in disbelief, but still speaks up again nonetheless. “I was thinking, well, maybe we could pick something that would really play into the old man’s feelings, you know, so we get him all sentimental and moved to tears…” he starts off, tone of voice now completely serious, making him sound kind of smart– startling you in the process, “that leaves us with a few possible options. We could do something with the 18 hundreds, or… fishing? I heard he’s into fishing. Or we could do something more abstract and shoot something about youth, since he’s very old and this could get him nostalgic. Or!” he suddenly perks up in his seat, eyes wide and a disturbing grin sitting at his lips, “we could include nudity! He’s a man, after all… wanna shoot porn? We don’t need words for porn.”

In absolute disbelief, you stare at the man with eyes wide open, blinking a few times and taking a few seconds to yourself to process the monologue you just listened to. You knew he was absolutely insufferable, but you didn’t know he was this much of a dumb freak. 

Taking your silence for disgust, Donghyuck just nods to himself and purses his lips.

“Youth it is, then… I mean, nudity would be difficult to present in front of the class for sure–” he admits, pouting.

“Yeah, like that’s the only problem with that idea…”

Afternoon classes aren’t your favorite ones of the week and although you absolutely despise waking up early and having to commute to university while you’re still half-asleep and absolutely irritated, there’s nothing that infuriates you more than knowing you could be done with the day already, sitting at home and watching your favorite TV show, only if it wasn’t for the responsibility of having to stay at campus and sit through another hour and a half lecture on a Thursday afternoon, way too late for your brain to be working in those hours.

This is one of the only classes you don’t share with your roommate Aeri– which makes the lecture that more excruciating, since you don’t have anyone with you that you could gossip with about your classmates or friends from back home when it gets too boring and you can't bear sitting in silence and forcing yourself to focus anymore– but there is one person from your circle that you do share this class with, and yes, you already guessed it; it’s Lee Donghyuck.

You don’t know when you’ve gotten so close to the point where he sits in the vacant seat right next to you almost immediately, followed by his friend Ju Haknyeon who you’ve never even spoken to before, but he still does so nonetheless, every Thursday, just so he could annoy you with his only half-funny remarks to every other sentence that comes out of your Animation class professor’s mouth. 

“What are you doing this weekend?” you hear Haknyeon ask the devil sitting on your left, and trust me, you don’t really like listening to other people’s conversations (that’s a lie, you live for gossip. You just wish you knew the least amount of information about Lee Donghyuck as possible, because sometimes you learn fun facts you wish never joined your brain), but you can’t really help it this time, can you? Haknyeon doesn’t know what whispering is, and you’re convinced Donghyuck would love everyone to hear him talk and give him attention anyway. 

“Not really sure,” Donghyuck replies, “Renjun bailed on me, said he’s going to the shelter with his girlfriend again, so I was thinking, right? You know, I’d looove to go on a road trip, and it’s crazy, you know, because–”

The words coming out of his mouth instantly make you alert, snapping your head around to make eye contact with the man that’s already staring at you with a shit-eating grin on his face, knowing you’re listening to them talk. “Lee Donghyuck, I am not going on a road trip with you–”

“See, Y/N here is my personal driver for the semester, so she can’t really say no–” Donghyuck continues, enjoying the way your face distorts into a pained scowl, your hand coming up into your hair to tug at the roots in frustration.

“If you make me do this, I’m going to open your door while we’re going 120km/h on a crowded highway and throw you out so you die under the wheels of someone else and I don't face the consequences,” you propose, shaking your head in disbelief, your voice shushed due to you still not wanting to be heard by the whole classroom, but still loud enough for both of the boys to chuckle.

“Come on, I bet you’d have fun. I have the best playlists for road trips, you know,” Hyuck teases, poking you with the tip of his pen, to which you click your tongue and move a bit further away from the male. 

“The last time I drove you somewhere that was more than a 10 minute drive, you had Céline Dion on loop, so I don’t know just how believable this claim is.”

“That’s disrespectful to the legend Céline Dion is, dear Y/N, and I’d take it back before her ghost comes to haunt you at night.”

“Is she even dead in the first place?” you squint at him, at disbelief of his words.

“She’s not,” Haknyeon chimes in from the side, shaking his head at the both of you before he chuckles, “you two argue like a married couple.”

“I would rather die than to marry him–”

“See, Hak, Y/N just hasn’t realized she’s in love with me yet,” Hyuck adds, clicking his tongue at his seatmate, “but she’s gonna realize it somewhere during our 5 hour long road trip, I’m sure. Just wait, it’s gonna happen soon.”

The class gets dismissed somewhere in the middle of the argument, and as you’re gathering your things to go, you hear the two of them talk among themselves, not really including you in their conversation anymore (which you’re glad for, frankly). 

“Are you going home after class?” Haknyeon asks.

“No,” Donghyuck shakes his head in disapproval, and there it is– the shit-eating grin appears on his face when he initiates eye contact with you and snickers, “Y/N and I are actually getting fried chicken at this place downtown, since I got coupons– well, Renjun got coupons for free chicken from his uncle last week, but he doesn’t like chicken that much, so I stole them from him–”

“Huh?” you scowl at him, wondering if you heard right. “I’m not getting chicken with you.”

“Of course you are,” Hyuck announces, “the coupons expire tomorrow, so we gotta do it today. I know you’re not busy, come on.”

“I’d rather choke than to spend any more time with you than I already have today, Donghyuck. Go with Haknyeon,” you say, pointing to the clueless senior staring at the both of you in wonder.

“Yeah, go with me, man,” he shakes his head, “I like chicken.”

“Unfortunately, this offer only applies to people that have a working car that could drive me there, so in case you wanna get your shiny BMW fixed in the next 24 hours, I can save the coupons for you,” Hyuck chimes, smiling innocently at his friend.

“What are you even talking about?” you mutter, tone of voice pained.

“Look, do you wanna get out of the road trip on Saturday, or not?” he stares at you, his gaze flaming as you sigh more for him to hear than to get out your frustration– you learned long ago that it does nothing to calm you down, worse, it makes you even more infuriated.

“Woah, Donghyuck!” you exclaim, fake excitement written all over your features. “Chicken actually sounds so good right now!”

That’s how you appear in one of the fried chicken places downtown, your car parked in their tiny parking lot, with Donghyuck excitedly skipping towards the restaurant with the bunch of coupons in his hands. You don’t really know why he insists on spending time with you– he could get a bus here or drive with one of his other friends that own a car, and you’re certain you are not the only one on his list– so the whole interaction makes you slightly confused. Still, you enjoy the free meal– like any other broke college student would– and when Donghyuck eats, his mouth is usually shut, so you don’t find that many negatives in this whole thing, after all.

“What are you thinking of doing for the project, by the way?” you ask, wiping your greasy fingers on one of the napkins Hyuck had offered to you just a few seconds prior after noticing your dismay at the state of your hands. You don’t like it when you get dirty with food, but you’d rather not eat at all than to eat fried chicken with a fork, so you guess this is the price you have to pay.

“You keep talking about the project,” he shakes his head, chuckling, “don’t worry about it. I have it covered.”

“What do you mean, you have it covered? This is supposed to be teamwork. Just because I drive you around, it doesn’t mean I won’t put my hand in– you’ll complain too much if I don’t,” you mutter after you swallow, rolling your eyes at him. He keeps saying the same thing each time you ask him– you’re suspecting that he has zero idea at all, and he’s just bluffing to make you feel more comfortable. Hell, you might even fail while working with Donghyuck and your whole plan is going to be ruined, for all you know.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, grinning, “we got the theme, so half the work is already done. We’ll just have to take one day to shoot some scenes on a field or something, and then I can edit it and put some sad music over it, and we’re sold. Trust me, I am a straight A student, I know what I'm doing.”

“You are not a straight A student, Lee Donghyuck,” you glare at him, not believing a single word that's just came out of his mouth.

“Okay well,” he shrugs, taking a sip of his coca-cola that he got for free with the order, “maybe I’m not. But you can count on me with this, hon.”

Sighing to yourself, you shake your head at him. “Don’t ever call me that ever again.”

“Hyuck,” you call for the male, nestling a little in your seat and scratching the back of your neck in frustration.

“Hm?”

“You said we were going to work on the project today, am I correct?” you ask, watching as the male walks up to you from the kitchen area of the room, a bowl full of popcorn in his hand as he plops on the sofa next to you (on the only area that allows you to lay down comfortably and still face the TV, also known as the spot you’ve already laid on, making the two of you almost uncomfortably close in the small space), a bottle of coke situated under his right shoulder.

“Correct,” he nods, reaching for the TV remote he spent approximately 15 minutes searching for in between the cushions of the sofa when you arrived, screaming at his poor roommate for losing it again as the shorter boy just grimaced at you and escaped the flat to hang out with someone you heard him call RJ! y/n.

Humming to yourself, you nod. “Okay, then… why the living fuck are we watching Hunger games right now?” you ask, tone of voice laced in frustration.

Donghyuck doesn’t reply to you for a while as he fumbles with the TV remote (and frankly, you don’t really know why he’s so focused, it doesn’t take much to just press play), but when he looks back at you and sees your gaze impatiently glued to his forehead, he shrugs. “We gotta find some inspiration first, you know,” he innocently states, “Hunger games is a movie about youth if I’ve ever seen one.”

“We’ve both already seen Hunger games, Hyuck,” you whine, but take a hand-full of popcorn out of the bowl that’s currently sitting in his lap. 

“How do you know that I have seen it already?”

“You just said so, you dumb fuck,” you mutter as you roll your eyes, watching the opening credits start. You can do nothing else than settle deeper into the sofa and watch the painfully long movie with your annoying neighbor now, and you despise the fact.

Well, you could do something else. There are many things, to be exact– you could either protest so much that Donghyuck finally gives in and turns the movie off, focusing his efforts into actually working on your project. If that doesn’t work, you can fight him for the remote, but you can’t really know if that wouldn’t make him pettily give you the silent treatment, which is exactly the opposite of what you’d like to be doing right now. Or you could just give up– seeing that you’re not gonna get much work done today– and stand up and go home. It’s not like you live that far away anyways… 

But still, you stay and watch the movie with him. You’ve seen it at least three times already, having watched it recently with Aeri when the movie had its second wave of fame on Tiktok, so you’re pretty sure that if you tried hard enough, you’d be able to recite the script alongside the actors, word-for-word, 100% correct and exact, right on time. You stay and watch Hunger games with Lee Donghyuck– why exactly, you still don’t know– and you find yourself enjoying the experience. It’s not as boring when you hear your neighbor annoyingly comment on each and every little thing that happens in the movie, his nasal voice cracking jokes and jumping into the conversations as if he was a part of the cinematic universe. Somewhere along the way, you join in with him, laughing and giggling when your roleplay gets too silly, and before you know it, the movie is about to end and you’re finally going to be free to work on the project with him.

Donghyuck gets unusually quiet towards the last part of the movie. You turn your head to him, ready to crack jokes at the tears you’re expecting to see in his eyes because of the emotional outro– Katnis and Peeta’s berry scene got you the first and the second time you watched the movie, the third time not so much, since Aeri kept pausing the movie for pee breaks, ruining the full effect– only to witness the man’s head falling to your shoulder the exact second you try to lock your gaze with him; your neighbor having passed out somewhere in the middle of the movie. You foolishly jump just the slightest bit at the contact, opening your mouth to say something to him that could wake him up, your instincts telling you to move away from the already uncomfortable closeness of your bodies and give yourself more space.

But as your lips part and you’re about to protest, you notice his own lips apart in a small pout, his cheeks appearing softer now that one of them is smashed against your shoulder, his long eyelashes fanning over the bones of his cheeks. The blue hue of the TV paints his cheeks rosier in the dim light, making you notice the moles on his face for the first time– leading you to count them and mentally create constellations between them as your gaze focuses from all the different places of his face to another. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shut your mouth and awkwardly make yourself look away from your annoying neighbor, cracking the knuckles of your hands that have been resting in your lap; but when the credits of the movie roll and you have nowhere else to focus your gaze on, you find yourself scanning the man up and down again, orbs catching every detail of his suddenly so pure being.

He is wearing gray sweatpants, the fabric hanging low on his waist, a plain black tee adorning his upper figure. He doesn’t often look this casual when he comes to class, opting to wear jeans or pants more formal, so you foolishly admire the cozy fit he has going on, not quite used to seeing Donghyuck looking this homey. His clasped hands resting in his lap catch your attention next, the soft skin adorning his slender fingers looking way too inviting right now as you subconsciously want to glaze your fingertips against the surface of his palm, just to see if your suspicions are right and his skin is just as gentle as it seems to be to the eye, and you almost do it– for scientific reasons, of course– before you catch yourself and almost mentally slap yourself for being so foolish.

What the hell is going on with you right now? You should wake him up now– the movie is already over, there’s no use in you staying over any longer if he’s asleep and won’t work on the project with you anymore– but you find yourself freezing each time your eyes focus on the creature sleeping against your shoulder, so soft and comfortable it makes your insides squeeze in warmth. It’s a strange sensation, and even a stranger one to feel for a person that annoys you the most in this world, and you can't bring yourself to do anything else than to overthink the simple fact. 

He can sleep for a few more minutes. You don’t mind. He must be tired, you think– he deserves 10 more minutes, maybe even 15– you won’t disturb him. The silence is strangely comforting, after all.

He can sleep for a few more minutes, you think– but the exact moment those thoughts roam around your head again, the front door to Donghyuck’s apartment opens and his roommate stands still in the doorframe of his living room, gazing at you with suspicion in his gaze. You quickly jump away from your project partner when eye contact with Huang Renjun is made, feeling the tips of your ears heating up in shame as you scatter to your feet and scramble for your things. You feel like you were just caught red-handed, doing something you shouldn’t have been doing, and you can’t bear the thought any longer. You need to get out.

A dissatisfied noise leaves Hyuck’s mouth as he wakes up to the impact of your movement, squinted eyes watching you as Renjun just laughs at your antics, shaking his head as if to tell you that he knows something you don’t. You don’t wanna hear it.

“Where are you going?” Donghyuck asks, voice laced with sleep. 

“Home,” you snap, running your hand through your hair as you move through the door frame that separates the living room from their entrance hall. “We can’t work on the project if you’re asleep, so I might as well just go and not waste my time here any longer!” you offer him, making sure to save your face by putting just enough pretended frustration into the comment as you put on your shoes and don't look back at him– however inviting the mental image of him seems in your brain– before you shut the door after yourself and leave.

dongfuck – drive me to mcdonalds

you – well hello to you too you – no.

dongfuck – >:( dongfuck – please

you – its 2am dude

dongfuck – your point..?

Sighing, scrambling for your things as quietly as possible to not wake up your sleep deprived flatmate, you get dressed in comfortable sweatpants, throwing a hoodie on to shield yourself from the chilly air. The walk down the stairs doesn’t take you more than a few minutes before you’re standing in the parking lot of your apartment complex, already seeing Donghyuck’s figure leaning on the side of your car, almost looking like he owns it– he does act like it lately, to be fair. 

“I knew you’d come,” he snickers as you roll your eyes at him, pressing the button on your car key to unlock the doors, watching as the man swiftly opens the driver’s side for you and then jogs towards the passenger’s side to get in, an excited stride in his step.

“I’m only here because I haven’t eaten dinner and chicken nuggets sound absolutely amazing right now,” you mutter, “don’t get too ahead of yourself. None of this is for you,” you grin, fastening your seatbelt and adjusting the rearview mirror just the slightest before turning on the engine and driving off the parking lot.

Donghyuck only shakes his head at you, a bright grin playing with his features. “Of course,” he hums, “wouldn’t want me to think that you actually want to hang out for once.”

“Of course,” you nod, “because that would be a lie. My goal is chicken nuggets, nothing else. And if I manage to get them out of you for free, that’s even better.”

“Who said I’m paying?”

“The gas station clerk did when I last went to get gas, actually! He told me I’m using twice as much gas lately because I’m driving a certain dumbass around, and I’m paying for all of the gas myself, can you believe it?” you shake your head, teasing him as you turn right on the main road, already seeing the McDonald’s in the distance. 

“That’s a strange way to talk to a customer,” Donghyuck squints his eyes at you, watching as you slow down when getting into the food chain’s parking lot, ready to drive up to the drive-through window and order your late night snacks.

“At least he’s looking out for me,” you shrug, teasing the male. “I better order a hefty meal, since you’re paying and all…” you mumble, looking over the poster to your left, tapping your chin, trying to look lost in thought. 

Hearing the man next to you scoff– already satisfied with how frustrated you’ve managed to make him– you pretend to look over the most expensive parts of the menu. “I’m starting to regret my decision,” Donghyuck adds, but the tone in his voice is light.

After a few more minutes of picking out your menu, you both order your meals and wait for them at the window. It doesn’t take long, since you’re the only ones in the whole place, and before you know it, Donghyuck is pressing his card into your palm, nudging you to pay for both of your meals. The gesture should be expected– you pretty much plastered him into doing this with how much you teased and complained– but it still shocks you when he does it with no other annoyed comments, watching as you offer it to the cashier and smile at him in thanks, taking the bags of food and driving off into the very back of the whole parking lot, turning the engine off and settling into the dark.

You tug your feet up to your seat, sitting crossed-legged in the small space as you face your companion, watching as he offers you the bag of food and digs into his own fries as well, scanning you from the corner of his eye. Now is the time you finally get to admire his attire for the first time the whole night– you never knew you had a thing for guys in sweatpants and oversized jackets, but the way your breathing almost catches in your throat at the sight of Donghyuck dressed so cozily again should be enough of a warning for you to the future. Forcefully taking your eyes off the male next to you, because you’d rather not think about the way you find yourself eyeing him lately, you eat your chicken nuggets– the ones you’ve dreamed of the whole night– and listen to the sound of your neighbor chewing on his burger. 

Feeling his eyes on you, you glare at him. “What are you staring at?”

“No take a picture, it will last longer this time?” 

“I learned my lesson from the last time,” you laugh, reminded of one of the first interactions you had with the male. “I hope you deleted the pictures, by the way.”

“No, I stare at them every night before I go to sleep,” he says, “so I’ll dream of you,” he sing-songs, laughing at the way your face distorts in discomfort at his words.

“Ah, so annoying,” you roll your eyes at him, but can’t battle the way your heart jumps a little at the sound of a laugh escaping his throat. Your eyes automatically trace his movements, noticing the way the far standing lamp post illuminates his face in just the right way, casting orange shadows over his features, making his eyes glimmer when they catch yours. Clearing your throat after being caught staring at him, you avert your gaze and finish the last of your fries, noticing the male done with his meal as well. 

“Now what?” he asks.

“We go home, what else?” you laugh, shaking your head at his question.

“But I don’t wanna go home yet,” he whines, and you already know what’s coming– pursuing, weird ideas, absurd arguments just to make you stay longer. And you’re immune to them on most days, but it’s too late in the night, so you have to cut yourself some slack. So what if you don’t want to come back yet either? It’s not a crime to want to spend some time with Lee Donghyuck.

“What a shame,” still, you tease, waiting for him to come up with a bright idea that you could use as an excuse to stay out longer.

“Oh come on,” Donghyuck mutters, “you always ruin the fun. Teach me how to drive, what do you say?”

Shocked at his preposition, you turn to him again, wide eyes and mouth agape. “What? Absolutely not.”

“Why? The parking lot’s empty. I can’t possibly be that bad that I crash your car into nothing. Come on!” he pleads, going even as far as pouting at you– not really knowing that the expression has you shamefully stare at his lips for a split second, insides heating up– and realistically, you should have warning signs blinking at you from everywhere in your brain, an alarm going off to tell you that this is not a good idea at all, but you’re too stunned to come up with another plan for the rest of your evening, and, well, you may be getting a little weak for the annoying gemini. He's right, though– what could possibly go wrong? 

So you only sigh in response, opening the door and getting out of your seat, watching as Donghyuck excitedly mirrors your motions and jogs to the driver’s seat, ready to possibly ruin your evening and your car at the same time. When you’re back safe inside of the car, you quickly fasten your seatbelt, a sign of your sense of self preservation still working well, watching Donghyuck move your seat further back so he can comfortably reach the pedals. His focused face is in your full view as he adjusts all the mirrors possible, and only then is when you notice him chewing on the inside of his cheek– in either nerves or concentration, you can’t really tell right now– and the sight makes you halt him in his motions before he manages to start the engine.

“Have you ever done this before?” you ask, watching as he turns to you with wide eyes, shaking his head in disagreement.

“No,” he peeps, laughing to himself, “Yangyang declined me the last time I asked.”

“Yeah, because he has a working brain,” you whisper under your breath, still in disbelief of what you allowed to happen, “so… can you reach the pedals?”

“I can.”

“And you see the whole back window in this mirror, right?” you ask, pointing to the rearview mirror, watching as Donghyuck nods.

“Positive.”

“Great. So… start the engine now, I guess?” you say, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you see him nod and reach for the keys, turning them. The car instantly comes alive right in front of him all while Hyuck seems  absolutely clueless, looking at you with big, adorable eyes, and you take it as your cue to instruct him on his next moves.

“Now press the clutch– the far left pedal– and move the gear stick into the first gear,” you say, watching as the boy slowly does as you say, reaching for the device and moving it to the desired place. “Good. Now, keep pressing the clutch and slowly start pressing the accelerator– the far right pedal– while also slowly letting go of the clutch until you get to the point where the car starts moving on itself. That’s when you don’t let go of the clutch, but keep it at that same exact spot, and put a bit more acceleration until the wheels spin like, once or twice. Only then can you keep your leg off the clutch.” 

“You’re kinda hot when you tell me what to do,” Hyuck mumbles, but the flirting doesn’t quite come through when his face is focused at the road and his composure seems shaken, too stressed out to actually mean the words coming out of his mouth.

“Shut up and do what I said,” you snarl, seeing as the man nods and tries moving with the car. It takes him some time, but it seems that he is a natural– the car moves without the engine dying, and suddenly, you find yourself cheering him on. “Good! Good! You’re moving!”

“Oh. My. God.” 

“Don’t panic!”

“I’m not panicking!” Hyuck hums, nodding to himself as he turns the wheel and makes a circle around the parking lot, grinning to himself with confidence. The car moves painfully slowly, and you, despite your best interest, find yourself enjoying the view– although you should probably be more worried about your own safety than you currently are. That's when you decide to challenge the male further.

“Okay, then we can shift into the second gear, it’s gonna go a little smoother,” you muse, seeing as the male nods.

His eyes stay focused on the road, though, so you take it as your cue to instruct him again. “Press on the clutch then, and move the gear stick straight down.”

“Mhm,” he hums, and presses on the clutch, but the struggle comes next as his hand flies all over the car, not quite used to the placement of the gear stick yet. Stressed, eyes glued to the road in front of him to not run into any possible obstacles in your way, he refuses to look away for even a second, and the whole sight makes your heart race in anxious agony as you reach for his hand and grip it, guiding him towards the stick and placing his palm on top of the device.

Your hold on his hand doesn’t loosen up as you guide his movements further and do it for him, just to make sure the stick really gets to its designated place and doesn't get stuck in neutral, which would make the engine die with the next press of the accelerator. His skin is soft under your touch, just like you imagined it to be, and you find yourself growing hotter the more your skin is in contact with his, the touch so innocent yet still sending you to overdrive.

“Now let go of the clutch,” you order, eyes glued to the side of Donghyuck’s head as he nods, listening to everything you say. The car now goes more smoothly and you watch him take another lap around the parking lot before you realize your hand is still gripping his on the gear stick, the information making you jump slightly in your place, clearing your throat in the awkward, tense atmosphere you managed to create for yourself.

“Okay,” you announce, “the trial is over, it’s time to press the brake– the middle pedal, if you haven't figured that out so far– and get out of my place,” you say, hoping the tone of your voice sounds as light as usual. 

The car comes to a strong halt, since Hyuck doesn’t really know how fast the brakes react yet, and if you weren’t buckled in, it’s certain that you’d go flying in your seat and smash your head against the dashboard. Breathing out when the car stills, you finally feel yourself relax, having been alert this whole time, as you squeeze Donghyuck’s hand for the last time, amidst selfishly, before you let go of it and turn towards the door, opening it and thanking the chilly air of the night for slapping you to your face. You really needed that wake up call.

Do you really need to drive a fucking manual? 

hyuck – can you drive me to yangyangs at 8

Staring at the text message on your phone, sighing to yourself at the weird discomfort in your stomach when it appears and registers in your brain, the sound catches attention of your roommate Aeri currently getting ready on the floor of your room, pressed almost uncomfortably close to the mirror. She should really wear the glasses she was prescribed.

“Donghyuck again?” she asks, staring at you through the mirror, a mischievous grin sitting on her face as she asks the crucial question.

“How’d you know?” you roll your eyes in irony, walking over to your closet and picking out your tonight’s outfit.

“Well,” she shrugs, “one, he’s like, the only person that ever texts you except for me, and two, you had that disgustingly doe eyed look on your face.”

“I so did not–”

“You so did,” she notes, putting another coat of mascara onto her long eyelashes.

“You know what? I regret telling you about this,” you mourn, scrambling for your things around your room and putting them into your bag, practically already ready to leave the apartment alongside your roommate slash best friend. When you came home last week after the McDonald’s run at 4 in the morning, you decided that sleep really wasn’t worth it anymore– as if you could fall asleep after the hotness in your whole body despite your window being wide open– and so you took a cold shower and decided to stay up in the living room, watching Netflix (more like having the show in the background as you tried hard to not have a mental breakdown at the newly found information about yourself). Aeri found you like that at 6 in the morning when she woke up to get a glass of water, and even though she was sleepy and groggy– which was probably why you decided to spill the beans so quickly– she interrogated you about the weird look on your face and it’s been a running joke between her and herself for the whole week.

“It’s really not my fault that you find our neighbor hot,” she notes, shrugging to herself.

“When did I say that? When did I say that!” 

“Well, you said you came home all flushed and that you imagined making out with him when you dropped him off back home, so that’s basically the same thing.” 

“I did not say I wanted to make out with him!” you defend yourself. You didn’t say it. You thought about it, that’s for sure, but your roommate really doesn’t have to know that. Unless she can read your thoughts, of course.

“Yeah, whatever. You and I both know it’s true.” 

Sighing, deciding that you’re ending the conversation with your roommate as long as the topic is your annoying neighbor, you turn to your phone and finally reply to his text message.

you – can’t

He replies almost instantly, as if he was waiting at his phone for the last 15 minutes, and the predictableness of his message almost makes you chuckle.

hyuck – why

you – cuz im going you – and i wanna drink you – so i cant drive

hyuck – ok that changes things then hyuck – my original mission was to get you to go there with me but this has to do i suppose hyuck – see you there ;)

Yes, you admit that you reread the messages a little too many times for your own liking. Trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind his words, you swear your brain is running a thousand miles an hour, and realistically, this is the part where you reach for your girl best friend and ask her what exactly is happening in the chat with you and the guy you’re talking to, but after the endless teasing you’ve already heard from her side, you decide against it and just turn off your screen and put the phone into your bag with the rest of your necessities.

“If you mention something about this tonight in front of Donghyuck, I’m locking you out of the apartment.”

“Ay ay, captain!”

The journey to Liu Yangyang’s house isn’t long. He’s the only one that still lives with his parents, but you can’t really blame him– the house is huge, and they are hardly ever home, because they are always on business trips in Taiwan. Half the time, it’s like the guy owns the place, and he also acts like it too, since half of the parties you’re invited to in a year are taking place at his house. 

When you get there, it seems that everyone was already there– at least the usual group, you suppose. You don’t know who else is invited, but when you arrive to Yangyang’s basement– the part of the house where he usually hosts the more chill, laid-back parties, with low music in the background, laughter resonating through the place and alcohol being passed around between people drinking straight out of the bottles– your eyes instantly zero on Donghyuck, dressed in a light bomber jacket and skin tight jeans, you decide that burning your throat with alcohol is the best thing you can do instead of audibly moaning at the sight.

Taking one of the opened bottles of Bacardi off the little camping table situated near the corner of the big room, you take a swig, not really caring about the people who have drank out of it before you– because the pandemic has taught you nothing, it seems– when you finally walk over to the group and say your greetings. Deciding that avoiding the object of your desire for the whole evening is the best plan how to survive without doing something you’re going to regret, you engage in conversation with pretty much everyone else, completely unaware of the way your neighbors eyes are burning a hole through the side of your skull, kind of offended that you haven’t come up to him first, since as far as he’s concerned, out of all the people present in the room, you spend the most time with him in the first place (with the exception of Aeri, of course, but you two live together, so it doesn't really count). In his opinion, you didn’t need to be talking to Na Jaemin right now– you’re not even friends with the man.

But still– drinking beer out of a bottle Lee Jeno passes you somewhere in the middle of the night before he disappears with his best friend to dance with them under the cigarette haze (pretty embarrassingly, you may add) – the only thing resonating through your brain is that you got this, you’re not gonna give him a single glance, you’re not gonna think about how attractive he looks in all black.

You guess that everything about the way this evening has been going is the prime example of every single college kid’s usual Friday. Sitting in a basement of Liu Yangyang’s house, your vision cloudy with a bit of alcohol and also the sweet, piney smoke of the joint that’s been passed around the room only a few minutes prior, music lowly plays in the background, adding a relaxed, yet exciting and bubbling atmosphere to it all– it’s the epitome of the experience you imagine before you go to college when you’re 15 and gazing longingly outside of your window, wondering if life when you’re older will be better and more fun.

And while you don’t necessarily think life is better now– you do have a shitton of assignments to do and stress eating up your insides– you do think it’s kind of fun. Everything is more bearable when you have a group of friends by your side, and while you wouldn’t call every single person in this room right now your closest friend– a friend for life, even– you’d say everything is better than being stuck in your house on a Friday evening, mourning the break up of One Direction one more time as you watch This is us again with spoonfuls of ice cream shoveled into your mouth, figure cuddled up under the blanket with your roommate by your side.

The fun only lasts until a round of Truth or dare takes place, though. You must admit that it’s the fundamental part of the whole hang out, and yes, it’s the thing you always see in the movies. It adds a bit of spice to it all and it’s twice as fun to play when you’re a little intoxicated, but still– you’d like to think you’re too old for the game now, even though your friends believe otherwise and never fail to bring it up again.

This time, it’s Jaemin who brings it up. You shoot daggers to his skull, annoyed eyes and all, but you don’t think he notices as he continues to excitingly sway his arms in the air when he repeats the submission over and over again, finally heard by his roommate Jeno that’s just come back from the weird dancing session with his best friend that he’s very obviously pining over, and grins at his roommate in agreement, starting the game. 

“Not again,” you whine audibly, because frankly, if you wanted to survive the evening with no embarrassment and no weird thoughts about one of the party guests, you don’t think a game of Truth or dare is your best move. Your disgust makes your own roommate– that’s suddenly glued to your side, too tipsy to even walk (you heard her exclaim that her legs are too heavy to be used)– giggle, already familiar with your thoughts on the game. And frankly, that makes you even more terrified– because when Aeri is drunk, she talks even more than she does when she’s sober, and well, there’s no promising that all of the information you’ve ever shared with her will stay truly confidential when she’s under the influence.

“Don’t start again,” she says, shaking her head, “you always say you hate it, but you always end up playing it anyway.”

She’s right. It’s not like anyone is pressuring you, but you kind of feel like the situation calls for you to join in– because what else are you supposed to do, watch them? There’s no fun in watching if you’re not involved, and you’d feel like an intruder if you just watched them do all sorts of dares while not being in on the game. 

“Yeah, because you’d all whine if I didn’t,” you say instead, taking a sip of your drink, letting the bitter taste of beer slide down your throat as she rolls her eyes at you, nudging you in your side with her elbow.

“Just say you end up having fun,” she snickers, “nobody would think that’s weird, you know.”

“Yeah, whatever you say,” you shush her and pet her hair, taking advantage of the fact that you’re very obviously less tipsy than her, as you turn to the middle of the circle and wait for the game to start.

Usually, a couple of rounds pass before your name is called. You enjoy the tension– it feels like you have time to prepare to do whatever task their hazed minds come up with or answer whatever question that’s been burning on their tongue, yet, it also feels like a buildup before the big thing– a strange sense of climax, if you will. 

This time, it’s no different. A couple of minutes pass as you watch Yangyang lick the bottom of Jaemin’s foot– because Jeno always likes to come up with the nastiest, most worrying dares of them all– followed by the sight of Shotaro kissing the forehead of the most attractive guy in the circle (Renjun wasn’t happy with the wet peck left on his skin). The guys almost always pick a dare, and you think that’s an advantage, since before it’s your turn to finally participate in the game, they run out of ideas for dares that are possible to do in the weed-smelling basement of Liu Yangyang’s house and you can safely choose truth instead. It’s not like you’re not brave enough to choose dare– you did so many times before and never once backed away from the task, not even when you were dared to kiss the person on your right (that was the night you learned Kim Sunwoo wasn’t all that, because the drunken peck he pressed to your lips wasn’t all that appealing) – you just simply tried to pick the safest strategy for the game. 

Another kissing dare could suggest that you kiss the person you find the most attractive in the room right now. Or they could ask you for a lap dance on one of the guys. The possibilities are endless, and even though choosing the truth isn’t that much safer, since their questions could vary all the way from ‘What’s the color of your underwear right now?’ to ‘What is your favorite sex position?’, you’re trying to comfort yourself with the fact that you could just lie. You know it’s kind of prohibited, and that it also defeats the whole purpose of the game, but still– you’re not planning on embarrassing yourself tonight, and you were always a pretty good liar when it came to words. Actions? Not that much.

Sinked deep in the stained light orange fabric of the sofa, eyes half-lidded, you await Jaemin’s question as you tell him you did indeed pick the truth. And you were right, there are no protests coming out of the boys’ mouths this time around, seemingly tired of coming up with original ideas for their dares. 

“Come on, man, we don’t have the whole day,” Renjun nudges the boy into his ribs, annoyed with the lack of words from his friend. 

“Actually, we do. I don’t see the issue-”

“Just ask something already!” Shotaro whines from his position on the floor, his back pressed against the side of the sofa.

“Fine,” the man straightens up in his position, as if struck by a newly found sense of clarity, the look on Na Jaemin’s face reeking of insanity, “I've got something.” 

The room cautiously looks at the platinum-haired boy sitting on the floor, his back resting against an armchair in the corner of the room as he blinks a few times, seconds passing, yet there’s still nothing coming out of his mouth. 

“Are you gonna say something, or will you continue to act all dramatic…?” Jeno snickers, making his roommate roll his eyes at the jab, finally breaking the silence.

You’d argue that he just forgot what he wanted to say– with how Jaemin gets when he’s drunk, it wouldn’t be half surprising– but it seems like his roommate knows him better than you do, because the man speaks up fast, and suddenly, you take back all your impatient thoughts that urged him to ask you something already, because the question takes you by surprise and leaves you in shock, staring wide eyed and speechless.

“If you had to have sex with anyone in this room, who would you choose?” 

You no longer wish he took longer to ask you the question. No, you wish he would’ve sent it to you telepathically, so you could prepare your answer beforehand. You’d save yourself a lot of trouble– being met with the gaze of everyone, looking at you as they await your answer is truly not helping you with the difficult task of responding to the truth, when in reality, you don’t think you can manage to even say anything.

Because truthfully, if you were asked this question at any time prior to the weird situation you found yourself in with Donghyuck– who’s, just by the way, still present in the room, but more quiet that usual, which you shamefully notice and worry about on your insides, but don’t mention out loud– you’d think that you wouldn’t have sex with anyone in this room. It may be hard to believe– even though the men in this room aren’t the sexsymbols they often think they are– but that's the sheer reality.

But now? You feel like the truth is written all over your face, you feel like everyone can see right inside of your head and read the words straight out of your brain. It’s embarrassing. You feel ashamed.

Looking around the space, shiteating grins meeting all of their expressions, you shrug and finally get some words out, hoping they satisfy their needs for an answer. 

“No one,” you say, praying you sound confident. 

“Yeah, no-”

“Oh, come on-” 

“That’s a lie-”

Multiple voices cut into your confession, all in disbelief. If this isn’t the proof of their impressively big egos, you don’t know what is. All of them now staring at you with furrowed eyebrows, not believing a single word that’s just came out of your mouth, you start to wonder about how to convince them that you are, indeed, telling the truth, even though you’re obviously aren’t, so you don’t have to take a shot of whatever liquid the host of the party has hidden in the closet of his basement as a punishment.

“I’m serious! I’ve never looked at any of you and thought, ‘yea, I’d let him get it’,” you shrug, taking a nervous sip of the beer in your hold again.  

“Okay, but if you had to? Like, imagine someone is holding your mother captive and telling you they’re gonna kill her if you don’t have sex with anyone in this room. Who are you choosing?” Jeno squints at you, and you’re starting to believe that the man just wants you to pick him. 

“I’d have sex with Aeri,” you muse, pointing a finger to her as she’s leeching to your right shoulder, snickering.

“That’s a cop out!”

“Look, man, I don’t find anyone here hot, okay?” you shake your head at the commotion, grinning to yourself to seem more believable. And with how they roll their eyes and sigh to themselves, you think it’s working. There’s a premature feeling of relief in your insides, thinking that you’ve done it, you haven’t exposed yourself, before you hear your roommate mumble from her slumber, making your heart drop deep down into your own fucking asshole.

“Not even Hyuck?” 

Slowly spinning your head towards her, the tight smile on your face suggesting that you’re going to kill her in under approximately five seconds if she doesn’t take back what she said, you’re painfully aware of the fact that everyone’s staring at you now, grinning to themselves with a look that says they believe that Aeri knows something they don’t– she’s your best friend, after all– and you realize that you’re going to have a hard time getting out of this one. 

You should’ve expected this the moment you saw her drink that much. Maybe you should’ve stayed home today. The information about Lee Donghyuck was still too fresh in her brain to not mention when she has some to drink– you understand, in a way. At least, you’re trying to understand.

“Fuck no,” you grunt out, furrowing your eyebrows in the best acting performance you’ve managed to put on since your theatre kid days. You don’t think you’re convincing anyone, though. You’re not even convinced.

“Was that my name I heard?” 

And again, your heart drops at the familiar tone coming from the place straight opposite of you, the place that’s very obviously in your point of view, yet you’ve been successfully avoiding the whole evening to not seem as obvious to everyone that the very man has been occupying your every thought for the last week or two. You realize this is the first time he’s spoken to you this evening, if you’re not counting the text messages you exchanged before you got here, and something about the fact makes you shiver.

Meeting his eyes, because it’s the natural thing to do when someone speaks to you, you mentally curse and feel your heartbeat quickening at the grin sitting on his face. Eyes roaming his body– all against your will–  you notice the comfortable way he’s sitting on the armchair in front of you, legs parted wide and his thighs on full display, hair a little messy and eyes glossed over and blown out, since he smoked just a few minutes prior to the game, making you realize just how painfully he resembles someone who just had a long make-out session; the thought automatically leading you to think of the fact that you’d like to have a make-out session with him right now, and wow, his thighs do look inviting to sit down on.

“You wish,” you spit instead, still wanting to save the situation. Averting your gaze from him to keep yourself sane, you choose to focus on the floor instead, heat rising to the tips of your ears. 

“I mean, it seems more like you do,” he grins, the whole group snickering at the sudden quarrel in between the two of you. Your conversation suddenly reminds you of the ones you had with him before the two of you started properly talking, and something about the confident smirk on his face makes you remember just how annoying you’ve always found him whenever you encountered him at this very place. You’re back to square one for a minute, with your defensive remarks, similar to the way you used to quarrel with him before, and the familiarity engulfs you like a warm blanket.

“Your confidence amuses me,” you bite back, choosing to look at him as you say it to add more impact to your words; your decision seems to only worsen the things for you, though. The conversation admittedly sounds a little too much like flirting, and the way you notice him clutching the can of beer in his hand only makes you more flushed under his gaze.

“You don’t seem amused.”

“That’s because the idea of having sex with you makes me want to leave this room,” you grunt, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

“I’ll take you home if you’d like,” he winks at you. Alarm sound goes off in your mind, your hands clammy as you run them through your hair, and suddenly, you’re on fight or flight. And if you can’t escape the situation, you decide to choose the latter– throwing him the most jabbing remark you can think of at this moment, fighting to keep your dignity.

“On a bike, or something?” you snicker. “As if I’d let a guy without a licence fuck me. You know that’s below my standards, Hyuck.”

An amused gasp is heard in the room when this remark leaves your mouth. The main source of the noise is Liu Yangyang, the host himself, since he likes to laugh at times when it’s the least socially acceptable. 

Now, you know that there are only a few things in which men value their social status; one of them being the amount of girls in their bed, the next one their rank in League of Legends, and lastly, their cars. And while Lee Donghyuck is known to be quite the player when it comes to the first thing in the list of social ranking between guys (or at least you’ve heard so from the girls in the locker room in the past years. Not like you were listening to their conversations whenever his name was mentioned… you just have very good hearing) and he was known to be the one that carries the team whenever any game on Yangyang’s PS5 is played in the dimly-lit basement on nights much like this one, there was something always setting him back in the neat ranking, and that something was the state of his car. 

Why? You guessed it– he doesn’t have a car. Or a licence.

To be quite frank, by the expression on Donghyuck’s face– all wide eyes and mouth agape in shock– you hit him right when it hurts, the grin falling off his face when he takes a sip of the beer in his hand, seemingly to chase down the taste of being put in his place and to have something to do to not seem as awkward and embarrassed as he must be feeling right now. 

You feel victorious, in a way– you managed to mask your very obvious sexual frustration caused by the man, while also managing to rile him up with your comment, which is definitely a first in your dynamic– adrenaline rushing through your blood as you look at him with expecting eyes, awaiting his response. The rest of the crowd laughs at your remark, only fueling the joy you feel when he suddenly averts his gaze from you, licking his lips for only a millisecond (yet it doesn’t get unnoticed by your eyes) before he snickers again, shrugging.

“Okay then,” he grunts, pressing the tip of his tongue to the inside of his cheek in annoyance, “you won.”

You know what? Once he admits to it, the feeling of victory quickly fades. Watching his frustrated face, eyebrows furrowed as he looks everywhere but at your face, suddenly, you choose to drown yourself in the rest of the beer in your bottle, relieved when you notice the game progressing without you. 

You won, he says, but you don't feel like you did. Quite the opposite, actually. You feel a tad bit defeated. 

You managed to lie to the crowd, but the very obvious pit in your stomach reminds you that you can’t lie to yourself– and now, bear with me as I say something cheesy, yet true– because even though Lee Donghyuck can’t drive, he’s still very successful at driving you crazy.

You feel like the universe is punishing you for every little, smallest thing you’ve ever done wrong in your life. You feel like whatever force is there that’s making this world go around, absolutely, completely, wholeheartedly hates, despises you, and won’t have mercy on you as you’re left dealing with the text message shining on your phone screen four days after the party, at 8 in the evening. 

hyuck – drive me to a date hyuck – please ig 

Sighing, one, two, three times, you chew on the bottom of your lip as your eyes scan over the messages, and something about the very few words makes your stomach turn and twist in an emotion you’d describe as a weird mix of disgust and shock as you mentally try to come up with a reply. And it’s hard.

It’s difficult, because you hate it, you hate it, you hate it– the way Lee Donghyuck just managed to score himself a date only four days after your ever so growing sexual frustration has started to see the light of the day, you hate the way he’s asking you to drive him there– as if to show you that he still has it, that you’re wrong, and that even though he has no car and no license to boost in front of other girls, they still want him and you’re about to witness it as you drive him there. 

And you hate it so much you start to think you’re going to chew on your own fist and throw a rock through your own window, but you strive hard not to show it. And is there a better way to seem unaffected in this situation than to comply with him? If you weren’t so jealous about the whole thing, you’d surely just make fun of him and do it, no questions asked– a friendly favor, or something. And so you do it. Like it’s nothing.

you – ok text me when you’re ready 

After a few minutes, you end up sitting in your car, hands on the wheel ready to turn (and run into the nearest car out of pure rage, possibly), waiting for Lee Donghyuck to appear on the passenger’s seat, all dolled up and dumped in cologne, presumably– and that’s exactly what happens when the door swings open and your nose is filled with his usual smell but somehow amplified, and you catch a glimpse of his leather jacket and the shirt tucked into his black jeans. You don’t outright look at him– because you’re still trying really hard not to show all of your inner thoughts on your face– and so you only turn on the engine and hum at him, already making your way out of the parking lot.

“Where are you going, then?” you ask, tone of voice completely unbothered and not too stingy or tight. “And I’m just dropping you off this time, right? Because I won’t sit there and watch you have a date and wait to drop both of you back,” you say, playing with the car radio and trying to find a station that would both satisfy your need to tune out your thoughts with a good song and the need to do something with your fingers to seem occupied.

“Of course not,” he snickers, “wouldn’t do that to poor you. And just go the way I tell you. Now turn left at the end of the street.”

Sighing to yourself at his orders, you do your best at driving your neighbor to his date while trying to ignore just how ridiculous this whole situation is. You should’ve said no back when he first asked you to be his personal driver for the semester– failing Film theory class doesn’t seem like such a bad thing in your eyes now, when you look at the situation in retrospect.

“Can’t believe you have to be dropped off at your own date and you still pull bitches,” you shake your head in disbelief, hoping, praying you seem annoyed because of your duties and not because you’d much rather have him staying in so you could catch a glimpse of him in his window, crouched down in the blue light of his room (yes, he has neon lights in his room. Yes, you teased him about it countless of times before) as he plays League of Legends or stays up on a discord call with his friends, playing Minecraft.

“See? You’re missing out,” he chuckles, shrugging to himself. 

“As if I’d ever go on a date with you,” you huff, moving to turn the volume of the radio higher so you don’t have to make small talk with him anymore, agitated, yet completely ignoring the fact that it was you who brought it up in the first place.

Hyuck moves his slender fingers along the knob of the radio and tunes the volume back down, and you’re eager to repeat your previous steps just to anger him and also so you don’t have to listen to his sneaky, egoistical remarks for any longer, when you hear him tell you the next directions and you realize that you still indeed need to hear Donghyuck’s voice, or else you’re not gonna be able to drop him off at his destination and drive away as fast as humanly possible.

The terrain around you starts to look more stranded. There are more trees than buildings in your sight, lampposts decreasing in amount as you drive further away from the city center, and only when you pass the sign that tells you that you just left the town you speak up again, now truly concerned.

“Where the fuck are you taking your date, man? To the middle of the woods?” you huff. “Is she meeting you there?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he laughs, shaking his head at your furrowed brows. Something about his casual composure makes your nerves tick off and goosebumps appear all over your body, as if you were sensing danger, when you sigh out heavily in frustration and turn to look at him for only a split second, eyes meeting with his. 

“Or are you making me drive to another fucking state, you fucker? I don’t have that much gas right now, you dumb ass–”

“We’re almost there, don’t worry,” he rolls his eyes at you, pointing somewhere into the distance again. “Just turn right there and drive up the hill.”

“Up the fucking hill?” you repeat, concerned.

“I told you to not worry about it,” Hyuck hums, settling deeper into the car seat, letting you battle your own thoughts as you follow his orders and drive up the hill for him, praying no deer decides to jump onto the road and total your car right now. 

“I worry about the girl that agreed to go on a date with you, Donghyuck,” you mutter, “I’ll tell you that, she clearly doesn’t have everything alright in the brain, because this is ridiculous.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he swats your worries away with a swing of his arm, pointing towards a place that extends out of the main road– if you can even call it that, since no cars are passing through the hill ever, much more in these hours of the day– and tells you that you can park the car there. 

And you do as you’re told, despite your never-ending complaining– that’s the dynamic you have with Lee Donghyuck, it seems. 

Stopping the car out of the main road, your car shielded from one side by a row of trees, you step on the break and look at the man to your right in question, the engine still running. “Is this it? Is this the place?”

“Yeah,” he nods, a grin slowly starting to play with his features. Something isn’t right– you feel it in your bones and see it in his eyes, but you can’t quite put your finger on it, still utterly confused and in the dark about everything. “Come on, get out of the car.”

He wastes no time in unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping out of the vehicle, his figure circling the car as he leans on the hood, turned away from you and seemingly waiting for you to follow his actions. Confused, figuring that you can’t do much more about the situation right now– where the fuck is his date? Why are we on the top of a hill? Will his date show up? – all swimming around your brain, you hop out and find his warm being, standing one step ahead of him and staring at him with stern, frustrated eyes.

“Look, isn’t it pretty?” he asks, pointing somewhere behind you. It takes everything in you to turn and gaze at the sight in front of you, your heart still weak and angrily beating against your ribcage, but you do as you’re ordered, eyes bearing into the view. 

The whole town is stretching out right below you. Now that you’ve turned the engine off and your headlights have gone out, you see the lights even better, shielded by a blanket of stars glimmering above the horizon, and you can’t help but gasp out in the beauty of it all. This place makes you want to take a picture, so you can remember how you felt while standing here and admiring the city forever– so you can remember how you felt while standing next to Donghyuck, heart foolishly drumming against your ribcage– and you suddenly realize just how badly you despise the fact that he showed this to you just to send you off while he waits for his date, as if to show you everything you could have if you went out with him, even though the question was never even on the table in the first place.

Clearing your throat, you turn to him, eyes glazing his side profile. “Where’s your date? Is she turning up? I don’t think it’s safe to make her–”

“My date’s already here,” he hums, nodding to himself. 

This does nothing to clear out the fog of confusion from in front of your eyes. “Huh? Where?”

“Here,” he repeats. The word has you wearily looking around yourself, furrowed brows and all– and that only makes the man chuckle at your antics, low voice cutting out of his throat making its way straight to the bottom of your stomach. “There’s no one else here. Just us. And no one else is coming, so will you chill out and enjoy our date, finally?” he asks, locking his gaze with you in a lazy, yet attractive manner that has your hands shaking and your brain instantly panicking.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you process his words for a few seconds, doing mental acrobatics and racking your brain in thought. Nothing helps. “Our date?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah, no,” you giggle out in awkwardness, feeling unarmed and like somebody’s just dunk a bucket of hot water over you. Shaking your head, you try hard to mask the way you’re feeling on the inside right now, because what are you even feeling right now? As you do some unreadable gestures with your arms as a way of declining and canceling everything that’s happening right now. “Us? A date? Yeah, not happening–” 

You mumble out, ready to escape the situation as fastly and as efficiently as you can while you try to make your way back inside of the car, not really thinking of the journey home you’re about to have to make with him on the passenger’s seat, when a hand grips your wrist, making you stop in your tracks. You take a few steps away from him nonetheless, and the man soon follows you before your body is swiftly turned against your car, the small of your back coming in contact with the driver’s door. Your breathing is quick when the man hovers above you, and you don’t feel danger– you just feel a bit panicked at the way tonight’s playing out. A date? You wouldn’t have thought of this in your most insane dreams.

“Why are you trying to run away?” he asks, his hand still holding your wrist, his fingers firm, yet gentle on your skin.

“Because– um– because-” you stutter, eyes instantly meeting his– regret pooling in the bottom of your stomach when you realize the proximity of his gaze, something tense bundling up in your insides, “this is ridiculous, Donghyuck, you can’t just–”

“I can’t just?” he tempts you, eyebrows rising to make you continue.

“You can’t just lure me into a date with you, that’s not how this works–”

“Would you go if I asked, then?”

“No, of course not!” you shake your head at him, tone of voice a few octaves higher than usual. Your eyes scan over your companion, his face reflecting the moonlight, and you find yourself counting the moles on his cheeks and noticing his sped-up breathing, automatically matching it despite not realizing it yourself. 

“Why? ‘Cause I don’t have a driving license, or because you’re just scared to admit that you’re attracted to me?” he challenges you, quirking up his brows at you in tension. 

Something about it makes you lose all the air in your lungs. He’s so close now you swear the scent of his cologne has made you drugged up, since you can’t seem to take your eyes off his lips for the next few seconds, completely in trance and electrified, and before you know it, you’re a blubbering mess, too lost in everything that is him to come up with something coherent. “That’s- that’s just not-”

He laughs at you, he snickers, as those words escape your mouth, not even a full sentence. You bet it’s enough of a confirmation for him that you’ve officially lost all control– you can’t seem to get out a teasing remark like you usually can, no smart words calculated and thrown his way to scatter down his ego, and you think he realizes that he won. You’re defenseless, you’re weak, and you really want to make out with him right now.

Which he might have sensed out of the way you’ve been yearningly staring at his lips the whole exchange. Still, he mumbles out a small “Stop me now if you don’t want this,” just to be completely sure.

And you don’t. You don't stop him when he leans in and captures your lips with his. You’d be a fool to.

His lips crash against yours with a fever-like pace, the tension that’s been building up between the two of you making itself known in the hurried motions of your lips. His kiss is deep, hands cradling your cheeks as he angles you to lock your lips with his better, not a hint of shyness or hesitance in his motions. Your fingers shakily grasp at the front of his shirt, trying to steady yourself when each motion of his mouth against yours leaves your knees weaker and weaker, your body pressed harder against the car door.

He tastes of mint, making you suspect he planned this and chewed on a gum before meeting you, and when his teeth gently pulls at your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from you, his tongue is left exploring the inside of your mouth, making you grow hotter and hotter under his ministrations. Your hands occupy themselves as they finally let go off his shirt and sneak around his small waist, pulling him closer, and you swear that you’ve never experienced a kiss that would leave you so eager for more before, a kiss that would leave you so weak and open for anything that’s about to happen– as if you were already naked and bare, a puddle in his palms. 

You’re soon left out of breath, gasping for air when he pulls away from you, and his kisses turn into pecks left on your lips, open mouthed kisses slowly trailing to the corner of your mouth and down your jaw, lips hungrily attaching to your neck, his nose glazing the soft skin as if to smell your scent and ingrave it into his memory. Something inside of you unties and makes you lose all of your control, finally falling fully into the sensation of the novelty of making out with Lee Donghyuck against your car, and you find your hands tying themselves into his hair, tugging at the roots when he finds the soft spot on the crevice of your shoulder that makes you squirm, and you suddenly know what all the girls in the locker rooms were talking about. Each action of his has you gasping for air, eyes pressing shut in the blissfulness of it all– the bites he leaves on your neck, smoothing them down with kitten licks each time surely leaving bruises, making your insides light up with the acts of possession.

“Hyuck–” you gasp, his mouth sucking into another spot on your neck, your head instantly moving away from his way to give him more space to work his magic.

“Hm?” he hums, a satisfied sound cutting out of his throat as his actions get more slow, more lazy, but still just as electrifying. You don’t really know what you wanted to say– perhaps you had no point of calling his name just to say it, and the hazy look in your face is enough of a proof to him when he unattaches himself off your neck and locks his eyes with you, a grin settling onto his face. “Feels good?” 

Nodding eagerly, almost a bit fast and a bit too soon to your own liking (but you’ll worry about that later), you watch him lean towards you again, lips locking with yours in need. Your fingers trail up and down his clothed back, his fingers mirroring the same, but up your loose shirt (which reminds you that you didn’t even dress prettily for the occasion– since you didn’t know this was your date you're attending), cold hands against your heated skin. Shivering from the fresh breeze of the night, you feel him grin against your lips before detaching himself from them to speak against your mouth. “Let’s move this somewhere warmer,” he murmurs before he tugs you away from the car and opens up the back door, pushing you inside.

Swiftly getting inside and closing the door behind himself, Donghyuck appears hovering above you, caging you against the uncomfortable seat. Still, you don’t have time to feel any sense of discomfort as his fingers move your hair from the way and his lips are back on yours again, leaving you no time to think of the implications of the whole situation. 

“See? Isn’t this much better than arguing with each other all the time?” Hyuck snickers again in a moment of weakness when he pulls back from your face to admire your swollen lips, and the teasing has you pushing him towards the seats, a dissatisfied look on your face. 

“Shut up,” you whisper almost hurriedly, climbing onto his lap (not before you admire his sprawled-up legs and the sight of his thighs, though).

“Make me,” he challenges.

“Gladly,” you nod, attaching yourself to his plump lips again, since you can’t seem to get enough of the sensation of them against your weak self, every sweep of his tongue with yours making you feel more heated and impatient as you move against him in his lap, the motion earning you a dissatisfied grunt sent against your mouth as his palms grip your hips with unsaid urgency.

“Don’t start something you wouldn’t want to finish,” he breathes out.

Nodding, you hum. “Who said anything about stopping?” you muse out, grinding against him harder.

You’ll worry about the consequences later.

“Why am I the only one in the shot?” you squint your eyes at the male, watching him as he points his camera to you and tells you to smile and act natural. Donghyuck has on his varsity jacket and his hair is sitting messy, a bit curled on the top of his head, his legs are covered with loose gray sweatpants instead of his usual black jeans– he looks casual, and yet, he looks amazing, you foolishly think as you sigh to yourself and walk across the field, much like the male mentioned a few weeks ago when the two of you ate fried chicken with his free coupons, trying to capture the energy of what youth feels like to you.

“Because you are the main star, honey,” he grins at you, the nickname making you trip over a little on your own feet, before you turn back to him and send him a glare.

“I told you not to call me that,” you mutter, but feel the heat from your stomach slowly rising to the tips of your ears and the tops of your cheeks, your composure slowly crumbling under his gaze. Not only are you watched by his deep brown orbs, there’s also a camera pointed at you now, and if he doesn’t stop with the weird flirting he has going on– especially after what happened between the two of you last week– you don’t know how you’re supposed to contain yourself and act so you don’t look like an utter fool in front of everyone, when the clips will be played in class next week.

“Besides, the project is due next week and this is all we’re doing? Are you sure we’re going to be able to pull this off?” you ask, wary of his confidence. You’re not really sure if Donghyuck knows what he’s doing with this assignment. Why did you even trust him with it in the first place?

“I told you to leave it to me,” he says, “now be a good girl and run down the field, maybe twirl a little like a ballerina, I dunno… Hum a little tune to yourself, do anything remotely interesting and youthful, okay?” he instructs you, and you comply, ignoring the fact that he told you to be a good girl, because after what the two of you did last week, you’re not able to register those two words in a way that would not be mildly sexual in your brain.

You two haven’t spoken about the fact that you hooked up in the backseat of your car after your weird date last week. Truth be told, you two haven’t spoken about anything since it happened, because you felt too awkward and hesitant to bring any conversation topic up. The first time you two spoke was when Donghyuck texted you yesterday about the project, and you told yourself that you simply can't ignore him when it comes to these things, and so you agreed to meet up with him, hoping he won't bring up the events of last week. You were scared. What were you scared of, exactly? You have no idea.

Something in you was almost a bit shameful to admit to yourself that you managed to fall for Lee Donghyuck this quickly. Something in you was a bit embarrassed at the fact that you let yourself be so intimate and so close with the male, and although you don’t regret it, you don’t think you want to talk about it with him (or anyone, for that matter) just yet. Or ever, actually.

And although you could be rational and tell yourself that surely, Donghyuck wanted you in just the same way you wanted him, and there was nothing embarrassing about it, you didn’t feel comfortable with talking about the act with him, because deep down, you know it wasn’t just about the sex for you and you were afraid that it was for him, and you’d rather stay in the blissful unknowingness than to know he only wanted to have sex with you and not try to go somewhere further with your relationship. Did this inner monologue reek of disgusting insecurity? 

Yes. Yes, it did. But somehow, you’re not able to do anything about it.

And so you run down the field like Donghyuck told you to, and you twirl and twist and shout and dance around, trying your hardest to act silly and youthful and exactly like he would like you to, because you’d hate to be unnatural around him, and you pray it’s enough for both the project and him included. Turning back to gaze at him from the distance, you notice that he’s not even recording anymore, only watching you with a lazy grin on his face, eyes glimmering under the direct sunlight, and you wonder how you haven’t realized just how beautiful he is when he’s simply just existing all those months ago, and how foolish you feel with the thought and both without it now. Walking up to him, you muse. 

“Are we done here?” 

“I think we got all the shots we need,” he hums, nodding to your question. There is something reassuring in his smile, and if you were confident enough to grasp at the straws, you would try to talk to him about the events of last week. You lack in many ways, though, and you were never so self-assured as you try to portray yourself to be, and so you don’t. 

“Let’s go, then,” you say, shuddering from the cold November wind as you walk away from the man, expecting him to follow you. You drove here, since the place is a few miles away from the city, and the fact that this marks the end of your project didn’t really make you as relieved and happy as you thought you’d feel back when you agreed to be his driver for the semester. 

A soft fabric envelopes your shoulders, his varsity jacket hugging you into warmth. You smell his cologne when you shyly push your limbs through the sleeves– a self-indulgent desire, too strong to be fought away– and when you look at him to thank him, he wears a soft look in his eyes that glazes you with such tenderness you feel like combusting from the inside with the strengths of your own emotions. Your heart beats fast in your chest when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as you walk towards the car, and when a stronger wind hits your heated face, you think that maybe Donghyuck was right, after all. 

You do think this perfectly captures what youth feels like.

“So we won’t talk about it?” he asks, and you turn away from him in fear of your emotions being clearly written on your face. He doesn’t have to name it– you know what he means.

“No,” you shake your head, determined, yet a little scared of his response, “not now.” Not yet, you think. You want to enjoy today a little longer.

“Why?” he asks.

Taking a shaky breath in, sensing that you won’t get to avoid the confrontation like you wanted to, you shrug. “I don’t know if I’m ready to hear it yet,” you bitterly laugh, meeting his eyes with something close to fear in your eyes.

“Hear what?”

“That you… you didn’t really mean anything by it, y’know,” you mumble, “I mean, you probably just did it to stroke your ego, or something, after everything I said at the party, so… yeah, I just don’t know if I wanna hear it.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence after your explanation, and Donghyuck only stares you down with a blank expression. It's not often that you don’t get to clearly see and experience all his emotions flashing through his face, letting you know what he feels even before he gets to speak it out loud. Now is one of the situations, though, and it scares you– it makes you so deeply afraid you’d rather back away from this conversation– damn you for entertaining it in the first place, and so you pretend it never happened in the first place.

“You think I did it to stroke my ego?” he clarifies.

“I- I mean…” you stutter, shying away from his gaze.

“Okay, then,” he mumbles, jaw hardening, his eyes not meeting yours when he circles the car and gets to his designated place on the passenger's seat, “that’s fine, I guess. I’ll try to show you my intentions clearer next time.”

Sitting in class, head resting in your hands as you stare right in front of you, mentally counting down the seconds until the last class of the semester starts, you are only vaguely aware of the things happening around you. You register Aeri talking to you about the new episode of her favorite drama somewhere to your right and you are also aware of Haknyeon and Shotaro sitting in the row in front of you, laughing loudly to themselves about the way their weekend went– yours went terribly, just for everyone’s information, since you decided to drown your feelings in alcohol alone in your apartment, having to be led to bed by your roommate after she got home in the middle of the night from one of her dates with Eric. You don’t really realize it when the class starts, because the monotone voice of your professor doesn’t do much to wake you up, but you are painfully aware of Lee Donghyuck’s body slumping next to yours into one of the only vacant chairs approximately 10 minutes after the class starts, out of breath and slouched over.

Aware of his presence, yet still acting like a scared deer around him, you don’t make any effort into turning to him and greeting him upon his arrival. Still, you sense the smell of his cologne filling your nostrils and making you just a bit more tired and sleepy, your eyes closing on themselves before you’re woken up by the sound of your name coming out of the professor’s mouth.

Scared you’re getting scolded for sleeping in class, you straighten your back and put on your best polite expression, but then you realize your name wasn’t called, just mentioned, and the name of none other than your neighbor was following, when the projector on the wall in front of you lights up and a file named Final projects is opened on the professor’s laptop, each .mp4 file named with a pair of surnames, and two clicks after, your final project is the first one of many presented in front of the whole class. You tried to tell Donghyuck that you could help with the final editing, but the male said he had a vision he needed to achieve, and for that, he wanted to be in charge of it alone, and frankly, out of fear of interacting with him more than was absolutely necessary, you left him to do his thing, resulting in this being your first time watching the final video as well.

There’s a few seconds of silence, a point of complete blankness as the clip starts, and a song played on an acoustic guitar starts playing when the word YOUTH, all capitalized, flashes at the screen. 

A clip of you running down the field in your flowy dress starts the video, the camera zooming in on your figure when you twirl and skip around in the tall grass, and then you laugh over the background music, the sound making you gape in surprise. You didn’t know your laugh sounded like that, and with the hazy coloring of the clips and the solemn, youthful atmosphere Donghyuck managed to capture in the video, you find yourself thinking the sound was kind of beautiful. 

Then the clip cuts into another one– and you widen your eyes at the sight, because Donghyuck told you he’s only going to include the clips from the field, and you believed him, well, because you never saw him record anything else– as the screen shows you a bunch of moments, all wordless, of you just going on with your life. The very next one is of you arriving to class late, a grumpy expression playing with your features. You didn’t notice Donghyuck filming back then, when he offered you a cup of coffee as you laid back on the desk, and a fit of giggles erupts around the class at your behavior. The next clip shows you laughing at Aeri’s shoulder in Yangyang’s basement– a couple of clips of that night following, capturing you playing beer pong with your other friends, or taking sips of your beer when you sat down on one of the folding chairs in the corner of the basement– each one showcasing you completely natural, unstaged, and raw. You had no idea anyone was watching you, yet alone taking clips of you. Did Donghyuck have his camera with him all those times? Or was he just taking those with his phone, since you never even noticed?

There’s a clip of you showing him the middle finger through the window when he called you late at night one day. Another one of you driving, and frankly, you don’t even know where you were going, but the sound of you giggling breaks through the speakers and you slouch deeper into your seat, shy at hearing the sound. The very next one is of you sipping at your boba through your straw, and that’s when you realize those were taken by his phone– at least some of them– because you attempt to hide from the lens by showing your palm against it. Another clip shows you digging through bags of McDonald’s take out in the driver’s seat of your car, another one lets you remember the time you went to get fried chicken with him, thinking he’s sending the video he took of you to tease his roommate with the free food he got with someone else back then, unaware that he wanted to use it for the project later. 

There are a few clips that only last a second. You walking a few steps ahead of him– you think it was the time you two went to the mall, you angry with his antics. Another one of you picking out cans of soda from the rack in the convenience store. A clip of you driving, once again, but now the sky is starry and dark, and you remember the night too well, since it wasn’t that long ago. A clip of you glaring at your bangs in the rear view mirror, another one of you staring into your textbooks at the library. 

There’s only one clip that shows Donghyuck as well. It’s one taken without you knowing, much like the previous ones, and how you missed the phone plopped up against the corner of your dashboard, you really don’t know, but the video shows you two in the McDonald’s parking lot, your hand touching his on the gear stick as you show him how to drive. Only then do you notice the flustered look on his face and the nervous laugh he gets out in the clip, the sound making your heart jump in your ribcage. 

The last part of the video is of you walking a few steps ahead of him, his varsity jacket hugging you around your shoulders. It’s the latest clip of them all, and it makes you painfully shy to look at it. The video comes to finish with a few last strums of an acoustic guitar in the background, and you come back to your senses when you feel a hand squeeze your thigh under the table, the whole class erupting into claps. The video was beautiful, and you feel moved.

Although you should be more mad about the fact that Donghyuck took videos of you without you knowing, there is something incredibly moving about the fact that somebody was looking at you and felt the need to capture the moment before it went away. The clips were candid, real, raw, showcasing exactly how the memory went, how your laugh sounded, and how you looked through Donghyuck’s eyes. The video was exactly what it needed to be and more. 

There’s something about the fact that all of the clips were of you that made you feel weak in your knees. If the video was what youth feels like, does this mean you were his youth?

If you felt beautiful in the video, loved the way your eyes crinkled in joy, liked the way your expressions morphed into the purest form of whatever emotion you felt at the moment, did that mean this was the way Donghyuck saw you with his eyes?

“See?” you hear him whisper into your ear, his hand still resting at the top of your leg. “I told you I had a vision. I did a good job, didn’t I?”

You chuckle, then offer him a nod. “I didn’t know you were recording all of those,” you whisper, ignoring the words coming out of your professor’s mouth– surely evaluating your work right now. You don’t really want to hear it, though– you’re sure you’ll pass. After seeing what your neighbor’s capable of, you have no doubts.

“I wanted it to feel authentic,” he peeps, “to the way I see you, I mean.”

“Is this what you meant when you said you’d prove your point later?” you wonder.

“I mean, the fact that I’ve always had the biggest crush on you was supposed to come across when I liked your objectively terrible haircut you got at the beginning of the term, but yes,” he admits, sheepishly smiling.

“Okay, uncalled for,” you shrug off his hand from your thigh, to which he giggles and captures your limb with his again, interlacing your fingers. He sways your hands back and forth, offering you a soft look that drives you slightly insane. After all of this, you’re really not sure what you were so afraid of.

“How does that roadtrip sound right now?” 

“Still absolutely terrifying,” you note. 

“Even if I pay for gas?” he laughs.

Squinting at him, admiring the boyish grin playing with his lips, you sigh. “I’ll think about it.”

[sopiao]

OMG HIIIIII ^^

i feel like there’s not enough price love on this app >:( so i wanted to request a reader that moves in across the hall from Price. and gets a little crushy crush on you 😻

LIKE OMG he helps you move in, do all the heavy lifting. such a gentlemen. always there whenever your AC breaks down. he just so happens to run into you in the complex’s laundry room. somehow always awake when you need him.

please ignore this if you want or don’t feel like it!! take care of urself boo!

PLS IVE BEEN SO EXCITED TO DO THIS THE SECOND I FIRST READ IT. honestly such a cute idea :^

anyways- 👀

Price was a very private man, never discussing any deep or emotional issues or feelings with anyone. He hated small talk, always found it awkward or bothersome. He didn’t feel as lonely as he thought he’d be, he liked the peace and the time he has for himself. Yes, he will be polite, but would rather prefer being by himself. But he’d try his best to avoid any interaction without being rude.

That was until he heard talking and a series thuds outside. Price was always very nosy and curious so he looked through the peephole of his door and saw you standing in front of the apartment across from his, it was empty for as long as he’s been there. Boxes were scattered along your feet.

He’s not sure why, but he felt like he should help you. He told himself it was just to make a good first impression of course. He scrambled to find the nearest clean shirt he could find. Coming out to meet you, Price was awkward at first, feeling like it was a bad idea at the last second until he saw your face, a soft and welcoming smile.

“Hi! Sorry about the boxes, I’ll be quick” You chuckle awkwardly, looking at the boxes that took up one side of the hallway. A smile instantly grew on him as he reassured you that it was alright and that it wasn’t a bother.

“You need a hand? I have some free time” He offered, lying, not wanting to seem like an eager creep that’ll snatch a pair of underwear from you while your not looking.

“You sure? I don’t wanna take up any of your time” Of course you were grateful for the offer but didn’t wanna be a bother. He insisted that he helped and that he wouldn’t be late to the nonexistent plans he made up. You didn’t doubt that he couldn’t do it. I mean, just look at him. His arms alone made you drool.

He made sure to make a show of it when he helped you out. Holding a box close against his barrel chest, making sure to subtly flex his arms he knew you were eyeing. Occasionally, you’d sneak a glance of his ass when you would go back out to bring in another box.

Price even helped you bring in all of your furniture from the downstairs lobby to the second floor. Doesn’t sound like much but when your bringing in furniture up and down and up and down— it gets tiring as hell. And fortunately for your case, sweaty.

Right after bringing in the couch, he did 80% of the lifting, you plopped down across it for a little break. Price pulling up the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his neck and face, showing you what you’ve been thinking about since the beginning. He was turned to the side so it didn’t look as obvious that he was showing off for you, but you still got that full view.

—

Price was excited when he heard a knock on his door, even more when he saw you, if he was a dog his tail would be wagging side to side.

“Sorry to bother you again, but do you know how to fix an AC? Or a repair number I can call?” You asked, chuckling nervously, again he pretended that he had free time in between plans he didn’t really have. Plus, it took him away from his heaps of paperwork and got to be in your presence, even if it’s for a short while.

“‘Course. I have some time” Flashing the charming smile you always thought about. Following you into your apartment with a reasonably sized tool box. He couldn’t help but eye how you looked, dressed to try and accommodate the hot weather without a functioning AC. Loose black tank top and grey sweatpants.

“Thank you! I would’ve probably roasted to death if I went one more minute with out it. So sorry to bother you again” You grinned, relief washing over you, the cool air against your boiling skin and sweat woke you instantly.

“No problem at all” He shrugged, putting his tools back in the red metal box, resting his surprisingly soft hand on your shoulder.

“Feel free to call me anytime anything needs fixing” His touch seemed to linger, along with your and his gaze on each other.

—

Price sprang up in a second and came running into your apartment when he heard a scream, the door was unlocked. He found you sitting on your counter with a pan, clearly afraid and scared.

“What?! What happened?!” He yelled, looking around your apartment for an intruder or something, his wooden bat being held over his shoulder, ready to strike.

You stuttered, too scared to reply, even think to form a sentence.

“A spider”

“What- Wait- Seriously?” He let the bat drop to his side, laughing at how seriously afraid your expression was.

“Yes, seriously! It’s huge, John! It’s as big as my hand!” You yell, trying to get to him while he laughs.

“Fine. Where is it?” He smirked. You followed him to your bedroom where the spider was. It really was as big as an atom, he couldn’t even find it until it moved up the wall.

—

When John heard your knock at his door he took no longer than a second, ready to open the door and greet you. Wondering what you’d want at this time of the night. He stopped for a second, realizing that he may be a little too eager. Waiting a couple seconds, like one or two, and opening the door, pretending that he just ended a call.

“Hm?” He tilted his head, forearm resting on the edge of the door as he leaned against it. Somehow you were more charming than the last time he saw you. Looking so excited with a paper towel on your hand with a single treat on it. He pretended he didn’t see it, but was internally hoping it was for him.

“Oh, good. You’re awake” You chime happily, taking the thick brownie and pressing it up to his lips for a bite. Wanting for him to take the test brownie, but being to awkward to ask him normally. He hummed in surprise, accepting the baked good. Placing his hand under his chin to keep it from falling and leaving crumbs.

“So?” You asked a couple seconds later, he’s still chewing. He chuckles at your eagerness, nodding his head as he tried to finish up his bite.

“I- Uhh. Wow. This is—this is good. Mm, really good” He nods, taking another bite of it as he dusted of his hands. Making you delighted that he liked it. He held the last bit of it up to your mouth to take it. Biting it from his hands you looked to the side, nodding to yourself and taking mental notes.

“Good. Good. Needs chocolate chunks, a little too dry” He stares as you just talk to yourself, a soft smile on his face.

“Oh. Caramel! Or is that too thick?” You perk up, snapping your fingers and looking up for confirmation or disapproval.

“Frosting?” He adds cluelessly, knowing nothing of the science of baking.

“Frosting!” Your eyes light up, pointing your finger at the idea.

“Mocha, maybe? Or nuts?” He tried his best to help and contribute to your little brainstorming session. Nodding along with the idea you thank him and walk back to your apartment to tweak the recipe a bit.