#practice writing dont judge me

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Past Astarion Meets His Future

This is a weird ass idea, but I'm doing it anyway. Some time travel fuckery. But the gist is: What if Astarion, decades before the Mind-flayers captured him, was on his last leg? Just on the verge of doing, what was at the time, his only way out. But what if something a little unworldly stopped him?

TW: Suicidal thoughts. M/F, me phoning it in with the dnd lore, Cazador is evil. Like, torture, physically and mentally, manipulation, literal horror shit. He's here so bad things happen to randos and our poor guy. I'm also using this as the backstory again for why Astarion can be in the sun in the future because it's so god damned convenient for drabbles.

~

Astarion watched the crowded bar with focused eyes, a feigned, relaxed smirk on his lips. But even with the acting, he could feel the smile on his face start to tremble, a tell-tale sign that he was truly on his last leg. It had been a long, horrible night, one that had no end in sight. Cazador was in rare form, demanding multiple warm bodies in the span of less than five hours. Astarion wasn't sure what had angered him this time, but he was taking it on the victims in a particularly savage way.

Twice already he had forced Astarion to stay in the room with the poor souls he'd brought back. And then Cazador... made him watch what he did to them. The monster truly had a knack for keeping them alive until the last possible moment. Beating them, assaulting them, laughing at their cries for help. He drank from them last, feasting on their blood until they were just on the edge of death before tossing to them ground. Then Astarion was dismissed with the order to find another.

He hated it. It was the worst part of his nights by far, not including when he was the one being tortured in their place. It didn't help that he always looked at their faces, full of terror and betrayal.

Why did he always have to look? It was a question he knew the answer to. It was because he did that to them. Perhaps not literally, but what was the difference? Astarion had led them straight into his hands.

That was all he did. His entire existence had been reduced to this. A slave, a rat, scuttling through the streets, only capable of inflicting the same torment on strangers. It was a hell that no one should experience, and one that Astarion had been in for nearly 130 years.

How could he continue like this? What was the point? He'd spent so long living on pure survival instinct, waiting for the impossible day where luck would be on his side. Where Cazador would kill the wrong stranger, where the possibility of his murder could become a reality. It was delusional, a poor excuse to continue clinging to this farce of a life.

But there was another option. There always had been. All he needs to do is wander off and wait for the sun to rise, and everything could finally be over. It's far from the first time he's thought about it. But Astarion is nothing but a coward. He'd seen the pure pain and misery of a death of that nature, your insides boiling from within as your skin turned to dust. It was horrifying, one of the worst ways someone could go. And yet... it was starting to seem like the only reasonable option he had left.

Maybe... maybe today would be the day, the first time he'd seen the sun in decades. And the last time he'd ever take a breath.

"Are you alone?" A voice asked, followed by a gentle touch to his arm.

Astarion turned, that same shallow smile instantly reappearing on his face. It was a man, one that was handsome enough for Astarion to probably not feel completely sick during the deed. Then again... he could always ignore them and go back to his final plan.

Or he could wait it out one more day, and pray for a miracle. Astarion nodded towards him, still slightly torn but willing to at least try. It's not like he could go home empty handed if things turned out that way.

"Come to my room?"

Well this was certainly easy. Astarion didn't even have to take the energy to bite out a subpar pick up line. He just followed the man to his room, a plan forming in his head on how he could convince him back to the manor. Not to mention his own escape if he turned out to have less than savory intentions.

The stranger shut the door behind him, sitting on the side of his bed with his hands folded in his lap, his eyes staring straight ahead. Astarion barely stopped himself from rolling his own. Great. A weirdo. What a lovely way to end the night, spending it seducing a complete freak. But Astarion had dealt with worse. He perched next to him, crossing his legs as he waited to see where this would go.

"I can see it," He finally said, his voice gravelly as he turned to stare at Astarion.

Astarion raised his brow, wondering for the first time if this particular prey had been partaking in some mind altering substances, "And what exactly are you seeing?"

"You."

Suddenly, the man was wrapping a tight hand around Astarion's wrist, his eyes shining with an unnatural green light, "You're close to the edge. Too close. My lord needs you breathing."

Astarion froze, equally parts horrified and confused at what he was alluding to. How on earth did he know his thoughts? What lord? Or the more likely reality; How wasted could one person be?

Astarion tried to pull back, frowning when he realized the grip on his wrist was iron-clad. He could feel a bit of panic start to swell inside him as he struggled, his voice rising, "I have no idea what you're talking about. Let go of me-"

"You must live," He said, the color of his eyes only getting brighter and brighter, near twin flames in the darkness of the room, "There is no other way. Kelemvor has work for you yet."

His confusion was quickly evaporating into rage. He didn't know what this thing wanted from him, nor why the god of death would have any interest in his life. But how dare he insist on Astarion's pathetic existence having meaning. He knew nothing.

His mask was slipping, his righteous anger spilling forth, "Let go. Before I rip your fucking arm off."

But he made no moves to back down. Instead he started to chant, an incantation that had Astarion officially panicking. Whatever magic he was using, it was powerful. Reality was shifting right beneath Astarion's feet, morphing into something different. The next thing he knew they were somewhere else entirely, his reality melting into something new right before his eyes.

The entire thing was so shocking that Astarion didn't even realize he was seeing sunlight. Without a single pain. He frantically looked around, the insane stranger's grip finally loosening as he twisted away. They were on a couch, in the middle of what looked like a brightly lit townhouse, voices spilling out of the other room.

Astarion stood quickly, a hiss escaping him, "Where in the hells are we?"

"Nowhere," The man said cryptically, his eyes still aflame, "Neither the present of the future. We are in nothing but a glimpse, taken and made for you."

That did nothing to answer his question. But it did make his mind go into more reasonable directions. This had to be an illusion, there was no other explanation for why he wasn't being burned alive. But an illusion of what? And for what purpose?

Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose, at a complete loss at what to do. He could try and kill him and pray that that would break the spell. But there was also the chance that he wouldn't live through an altercation with someone who could warp his senses so easily. Or perhaps this whole thing was a nightmare, a horrifying dream he'd cooked up after a night in the torture chamber.

Still at a loss, he settled on asking another question, "Then what is this a glimpse of?"

"Home," The man said simply before slipping off the couch. The cryptic bastard.

He started walking towards the next room towards the unknown voices; Astarion feeling helpless but to follow.

He lingered at the entryway, his eyes widening at the sight of a woman standing there, cooing at a teary-eyed child she had on her hip. They were right in her line of sight, but she had no reaction to their presence, instead calling out into the other room, "Did you find it yet?"

Another voice called back, oddly familiar as it groaned, "If I had, would I still be on my hands and knees here?"

Astarion stepped forward, more than ready to see if he could enlist the help of strangers for his predicament.

"They can not perceive us," The stranger said, interrupting the call for help that was on the tip of Astarion's tongue, "They are not real. Merely copies of what is, what will be."

"Lovely," Astarion growled out, his fingers itching to fight back against this demon of a man, "Now what in the gods' names does this have to do with me?"

"Watch and you will see," He said, his eyes blazing straight ahead, "The Lord of Death works in mysterious ways."

Astarion's theory of this being a torture-induced dream was becoming more and more believable. He didn't even bother questioning it, not when one more inane answer would send him into a tailspin. Instead he stared ahead, waiting for the moment he would wake up.

The baby was still squirming. Annoying whining sounds spilling from its lips, nearly on the edge of crying. But the woman still had a bright smile on her face, calling back "I told you we should have looked for it last night!"

"Well when she threw it across the room I assumed that meant it had fallen out of favor!" That same familiar voice yelled back, followed by an excited ah-ha! sound.

"Isabella's gonna have a fit, isn't she?" The woman sing-songed, bouncing the child on her hip, "I guess Mommy's going to have to let you start sucking on Daddy's hair again, huh?"

"I heard that!" The muffled voice called back, getting clearer and clearer by the moment. And then another man was walking into the room, grinning ear to ear as he held up a pacifier, "And I will not be forgetting it darling. Don't come crying to me the next time she's gnawing on your nose."

He leaned over to kiss the woman on the cheek before popping the pacifier in the girl's mouth, laughing when it instantly made her calm down. He was tall and pale, an elf with piercing red eyes and pure white hair.

No. It couldn't be-

"There. All better," The man sighed, his voice crystal clear in the calmness of the room, "She has quite the arm for a toddler."

It was a voice that Astarion knew, better than anyone else. It was his own.

Astarion watched, wide-eyed as his other self lifted the baby up in his arms, laughing as the child squealed around the pacifier, "She sure is cute for someone who can be such a brat. She takes after her mother doesn't she?"

The woman rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. Almost like she couldn't help but do anything else as she watched the duo, "Brave words for someone of your nature. Not to mention how she's your twin."

"Nonsense. She looks just like you, we should have named her Tav Jr," Other Astarion playfully argued, taking his other arm to wrap around the woman's shoulders, "I'm only responsible for the corpse-like complexion."

Astarion stared at them, in complete shock. He didn't-why would anyone or anything want to show him this? It didn't make sense. How would it be possible for him to be in the sunlight? Let alone to have a family. Astarion knew that this had to be a lie, there was no other explanation.

But that didn't stop his heart from aching from being forced to witness it. He was too shell-shocked to speak as he followed the duo to the other room, listening as his other self set the child in a crib, still cooing at her, "Auntie Karlach is coming over and you'll need your rest. How else will you be annoying together?"

"Astarion!"

He watched himself laugh as he pulled back, kissing her little forehead before murmuring, "Mommy only says my name like that when she has no comeback, isn't that right princess?"

"You're going to regret telling her everything when she can start talking," The woman, Tav, piped up from next to him, "I hope you realize she'll tell me all of your secrets."

Astarion rolled his eyes before pulling her against him, pressing a sweet and lingering kiss to her lips, "What secrets do I have that you don't know? Please, enlighten me."

What kind of cruel joke was this? Astarion, the real Astarion, had seen enough. He turned to the bastard that had sent him here, growling through gritted teeth, "Why are you doing this to me? Have I not suffered through enough?"

The man offered nothing of value, "We offer you what could be, if you can survive. No more, no less."

No. No, no, no. He wouldn't believe him. He refused to. There was no future for him. There couldn't be. I-It wasn't possible. Not with Cazador looming, not when he couldn't walk in the sun without being burned alive. And especially not when he couldn't even fathom letting himself care form someone enough to have a family with.

But that's what was in front of him. He turned back, his morbid curiosity getting the better of him. Just in time to see the couple standing there, holding each other while they made out like teenagers.

"I love you," His other self sighed happily, the words free and unbidden from his own lips between kisses, "More than anything my sweet."

"With one exception?" Tav asked, her arms wrapped around his neck.

Astarion laughed, nodding towards the crib with a knowing grin, "With one exception."

Astarion stared at them, a horrifying feeling starting to grow in his chest.

Hope.

It's the greatest betrayal he could give himself, an eternity's sentence to his own personal hell on the delusional belief that something better would come. He couldn't give in to it. He wouldn't.

But the question still escapes his lips, "How long?"

"Seventy years until you meet," The stranger said, "You must live to see it. Five more until you're here."

Astarion watched, wide-eyed as the alternate reality started to fade, the stranger's eyes becoming more dull and human-like by the moment. He stared until the last possible moment, trying to commit it all to memory.

But it was difficult. Like thoughts he couldn't quite grasp, slipping through his fingers. Something wasn't right.

"Will I remember this?" He asked, even though he was already on the edge of forgetting.

"No," The man said simply. They were back in the room, sitting on the bed as though nothing had happened, "But you'll remember the hope."

It was the equivalent of a curse, one that Astarion could barely fathom as magic twisted his memories. But he could feel it there, festering in his heart. The yearning for a new life, stronger than ever.

Astarion left Shar's Caress that night feeling dazed and confused. He barely managed to drag a wasted loner back to the manor with him, preying on him in the back aisles. It was startling to think that he'd almost forgotten his original mission considering the consequences. But whatever happened had... done something to him. Something that he couldn't quite name.

But he didn't see the sun that day. Or the next. Or the day after that. Instead he continued to struggle, to suffer at the hands of his sadistic sire with no end in sight. Not until years and years later, when the worst and best thing to ever happen to him occurred. He was kidnapped by mind flayers, but gifted with a disgusting parasite that allowed him to live in the sun.

It wasn't ideal but it was better than being under Cazador's thumb. Not to mention how he found companions relatively quickly. It had been pure luck that you stumbled upon him, even luckier still that you were the type to forgive a man for having a knife to your throat.

He was happy to accompany you. He was happy to do whatever it took to increase his chances of survival, frankly. It helped that he felt... strangely drawn to you. You looked oddly familiar. He didn't know how else to describe it, but it was almost as though he'd met someone from a past life.

[perfectly-clear-from-here]

cheeky wee playlist for my fic inhaler... cause I said so. send post.

[pricetagged]

I have a question and not a critism or pressure. I see you wrote 18+ and smut for fae!ghoap x reader, but you haven't posted more. Your wip wedensday has 18+. I am curious you are not liking to write smut? Or liking to write it for longer fics?

(I love your stories both with and without! 🫶)

I feel like this is a genuine question, so no worries. Umm idk how to answer this without seeming silly. Bc obviously I read and reblog a lot of smut 😅 The thing is, I'm just shy and unpracticed. And I suppose I am more in the mindset with longer fics to write smut?

Really, I do sit here and squirm a bit when I'm writing it. Just hard to shake off the old Catholic all-girls school education and my inherent shyness 😭

[jester-of-decay]

My Twitter is too vulnerable to say this but...

Considering Google is going to be scraping Google Docs to feed their AI meaning that whatever I write and share with people ends up getting scraped I am intensely thinking about making the most grotesque fucked up and vile pornography possible to forcefeed their AI to make it a fucking broken freak. I am so for real about this. I will make Google's AI talk about Saw Style Gore Porn if it's the last fucking thing I do on this Earth.

Do NOT scrape independent writers for your shit ass AI program. I am far too complex and fucked up of a writer to ever be replicated by your corporate shit stream.

[zuhaism]

⊹ ｡˚ 𓂃 ♡ BITTERSWEET FEELINGS ?!

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pairing : jock!reader x meangirl!jimin

synopsis : you swore on your homies life jimins car wasnt there when you reversed. now you have to face the consequences of being jimins slave for the whole summer

a/n : IM BACK GUYS I FINISHED HIGHSCHOOL WOWOWOWOWOWO. i have a sophia fic cooking up in the oven pls give me motivation to write

the sun rays burns down on the pavement. casting shimmering heat waves off the rows of parked cars infront of the supermarket. the air smells like asphalt and faintly of gasoline. tension in the air so thick it might as well be solid and yet. none of it compares to the suffocating weight in your chest as you stare, in horror, at the very expensive, very sleek, very ruined black car in front of you.

you really didn’t mean to do it.

you swear on your mom’s life you didn’t.

but the horrifying crunch of metal against metal still rings in your ears. vibrating through your bones like the aftershock of an earthquake. your hands are frozen on the wheel, white-knuckled, and your breath catches somewhere between your ribs as you take in the undeniable dent you just gifted this beautiful, angry looking machine.

“oh. oh no. oh my god. i did not just—” you breathe out. stomach twisting in sheer horror. this wasn’t supposed to happen. you were supposed to run a quick errand. buy groceries for your mom. go home and continue your harry potter marathon. not this.

“stupid,” you mutter, smacking your forehead with the heel of your palm. “stupid, stupid, stupid—”

before you can even process your next move, the driver’s door swings open with a force that makes you flinch.

yu. fucking. jimin.

the richest kid in school. the kind of rich that makes people whisper behind her back, half in awe, half in resentment.

her dad owns the most luxurious country club in town. which of course, makes her the best golfer in school. not because she loves it, but because she was practically raised on the green. probably holding a club before she could even walk. she walks through the halls like she owns them (and maybe she does).

her head high, expression unreadable, never wasting words on people she doesn’t deem worth her time. she only keeps a tight circle. four friends. untouchable. (though one of them is your partner in chemistry , minjeong whose company you enjoy alot and you dont understand how a soft girl like her is best friends with jimin).

she gets whatever she wants. people trip over themselves to be on her good side. and when they're not? well. she makes them regret it. and right now, judging by the absolute murder in her eyes, you are very much not on her good side.

your brain short-circuits, all logical thought thrown straight out the window. your vision tunnels, your stomach flips, and before you can even register what’s happening, your head tips forward, smacking against the steering wheel.

the horn blares, loud and jarring, slicing through the summer air like a knife.

you jolt upright immediately, blinking fast, your heartbeat thundering in your ears. the world is still spinning, and yet one thing remains painfully clear. you are so, so screwed.

jimin stands there, arms crossed, sunglasses perched on her head, dark hair gleaming in the sunlight like something out of a goddamn magazine. the breeze tousles a few loose strands around her face. but her eyes dark, and burning with barely restrained fury stay locked on the damage, as if she’s willing the dent to disappear through sheer force of her eyes. her top tightly hugs her frame that almost made you pass out again

she exhales sharply, running a hand through her hair. the strands slip through her fingers effortlessly, like silk, and it almost distracts you from the murder written all over her expression. almost.

“you have got to be fucking kidding me,” she seethes. voice low. deadly.

her posture is stiff, shoulders squared, one perfectly manicured hand resting on her hip. the subtle shift of her weight onto one leg makes her stance look effortless, like she owns the entire parking lot and by extension, your life.

you, on the other hand, are still frozen in your car like a complete idiot.

“get. out.”

you scramble to obey. nearly getting tangled in your seatbelt in your rush. your sneakers scrape against the pavement as you finally step out. the heat hitting you full force, and you’re suddenly hyperaware of how dry your mouth is.

“okay, okay, before you, um, say anything…, i just wanna say that i deeply regret my actions and—”

“regret?” she scoffs. taking a slow, deliberate step forward. “you wrecked my car, hotshot. i don’t care about your regret. i care about my bumper.”

your nose scrunches. “hotshot?”

jimin tilts her head, mock innocence dripping with venom. “oh, is that not what they call you?”

your jaw clenches. face heating even more than it already was under the sun. “that’s uncalled for.”

“so was your car slamming into mine,” she deadpans.

“technically,” you start, trying desperately to ease the tension, “it’s my bumper that—”

“do not finish that sentence unless you want to die in this parking lot.”

you snap your mouth shut. “right. totally fair.”

jimin pinches the bridge of her nose. her patience clearly wearing thin. the sharp inhale she takes in through her nose is slow, measured, like she’s actively resisting the urge to strangle you.

“do you even have insurance?”

your stomach sinks. “…define insurance?”

the laugh that escapes her is dry, humorless, and a little terrifying. “oh, this is gonna be fun.”

you shift awkwardly on your feet. the asphalt radiating heat through the soles of your shoes. sweat drips down the back of your neck, and you resist the urge to wipe it away, because somehow, looking nervous in front of her feels even worse than actually being nervous.

“sooo… how much are we talkin’?” you try, forcing out a bright, if not completely panicked chuckle. “like, damage-wise? i-i can pay you back. eventually. probably.”

“no. no probably.”

her voice is steel, and when you look up, her arms are crossed again, her nails tapping against her elbow. she’s still looking at you like you just ran over her childhood pet, and it’s making your stomach churn.

“you will pay me back,” she continues, voice calm, controlled. and then, a smirk, slow and wicked, curls onto her lips. “or else.”

your pulse stutters. “or else… what?”

she leans in, just slightly, and suddenly, she’s everywhere. her scent, something expensive and infuriatingly pleasant, wrapping around you like a trap. your breath catches. it’s distracting, the way she moves, the effortless confidence. the quiet kind of power that makes your stomach twist.

“or else you’ll regret ever stepping behind a wheel, sweetheart.”

your mouth goes dry.

jimin is close, too close, and the sun catches on the sharp angles of her face, highlighting the slight arch of her brow, the press of her lips, the way her eyes are practically daring you to push your luck. your fingers twitch at your sides, and you swallow. you don’t know whether to be terrified or intrigued. maybe both.

“give me your number,” the warmth of her breath ghosts over your skin, and your brain short-circuits for a second. her perfume is something delicate yet undeniably expensive, the kind that lingers, the kind that’ll stick to your clothes if you stand here any longer.

you fumble with your phone, fingers clumsy, pulse hammering against your ribs. she watches, amused, and somehow, that makes it worse.

“i’ll text you all the details so get ready for one hell of a summer”

last night, at exactly midnight, an unknown number texted you. right of the bat you knew it was her. she texted you a demented and threatening text you’ve come to expect from her.

“tmrw 9am sharp at the country club. dress accordingly. don’t be late or i’ll make sure you regret ever stepping foot on a basketball court again.”

she knew exactly what she was doing, sending that text just late enough to ruin a good night’s sleep. you woke up dreading the day ahead, and now, you’re actually living it. the frustration settles in again like a second wave, thick and inescapable. you hate the stupid country club. hate the stupid sun burning the back of your neck. hate the stupid heavy golf bag on your shoulder. and jimin

…okay, maybe hate is a strong word.

but considering how smug she looks right now. immaculate as ever in a crisp white polo that fits her perfectly, tucked into an infuriatingly short skirt that only accentuates her toned legs. and goddamn those thighs– you think she deserves at least a little bit of it.

the way the country club aesthetic should be obnoxious but somehow works flawlessly on her only adds to your growing irritation. the neatly pressed uniform, the poised stance, the effortless air of privilege. even the faintest scent of something expensive. probably a perfume that costs more than your debt clings to her like an afterthought.

it's annoying.

she doesn’t even have to try.

jimin shifts her weight slightly, rolling her shoulders back as she adjusts her golf glove with slow, deliberate movements. she does everything with an infuriating sense of ease, like she knows she’s being watched and thrives on it. her fingers flex slightly before she pulls the glove snug, and when she finally turns to look at you, there’s a flicker of something in her gaze—amusement, condescension, curiosity. all neatly wrapped in a bow of insufferable confidence.

"this is actual, real-life torture," you grumble, adjusting the strap of the golf bag for what feels like the hundredth time as you follow her across the pristine green. the weight digs into your shoulder, pressing into already-sore muscles, and you know tomorrow will be hell. "can’t you just, i don’t know, get one of the employees to do this?"

jimin doesn’t even spare you a glance as she steps onto the tee box, stretching her arms above her head in a slow, languid motion. the movement elongates her frame, revealing a glimpse of her toned stomach, muscles flexing subtly under smooth skin. your throat goes dry, warmth creeping up your neck as you try, really try, not to react. you snap your gaze toward the horizon, willing yourself to think of anything else, but the image lingers stubbornly.

jimin, of course, is fully aware. she drops her arms with an easy grace, a knowing look flickering in her eyes before she turns away, the corner of her lips curving just slightly. not quite a smirk, but something close, something taunting. she rolls her wrists, settling into position like nothing happened, like she didn’t just momentarily wreck your focus with a stretch. "the employees," she says smoothly, rolling her wrist as she grips the club, "are not in debt to me for crashing into my car."

you groan, adjusting the heavy golf bag filled with clubs on your shoulder. easing the discomfort "you are never gonna let that go, are you?"

"not until you pay me back. and at the rate you’re going, that might take a while, hotshot." her voice is as sweet as honey but edged with superiority, like she’s savoring every second of your misery.

you clench your jaw. hotshot. again.

"you have to stop calling me that," you mutter, setting the bag down next to the tee box with more force than necessary, the weight making your arms ache.

except jimin isn’t looking at the bag. she’s watching you, the way your muscles shift as you move, the barely concealed strain in your shoulders. there’s something almost delighted in her gaze, like she’s found a new source of entertainment.

"oh? why? does it bother you?" she asks, plucking a driver from the bag with an ease that only irritates you further. the way her toned arms flex with the motion doesn't help either. she knows exactly what she’s doing, and judging by the quirk of her lips, she’s enjoying every second of your discomfort.

you narrow your eyes, crossing your arms. "it’s inaccurate."

she hums, lining up her shot, an infuriating smirk ghosting over her lips. "hmm. i disagree. you think you’re hot shit on the court, don’t you?"

her stance shifts slightly, feet planting firmly into the grass as she squares her shoulders. the way she moves is calculated. each adjustment precise, deliberate. you watch as her fingers curl around the grip, her knuckles flexing slightly as she angles her wrists just so. the air around her feels different in moments like this, a sharp contrast to the casual arrogance she usually wears like a second skin.

before you can respond, she swings. smooth. effortless. perfect.

the club slices through the air with a quiet whisper, and the ball soars down the course, landing dead center on the fairway. jimin straightens, tilting her head as she finally turns to look at you, self-satisfaction radiating from every inch of her.

"well?" she asks, the challenge clear in her voice.

you blink. what was the question again?

you clear your throat, forcing your expression into something unimpressed. "eh. i’ve seen better."

jimin steps closer, and you swear there’s something different in her movements now. something looser, almost playful. she twirls the club in her hands, letting it dig into the ground after catching it again. she rests on one leg as the other twists over another and leaned onto the club. "oh? who?"

you open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

she smirks. "thought so."

your cheeks heat for some stupid reason, and you quickly turn to grab the golf bag. except you miscalculate the weight, and the sudden shift nearly sends you stumbling forward. you barely catch yourself, muscles straining as you regain control, arms flexing instinctively.

jimin doesn’t say anything.

which is weird. because jimin always has something snarky to say.

when you glance up, you catch her staring. her gaze flickers, just for a second, down to your arms. subtle, almost unnoticeable, but you see it. the faintest parting of her lips, the quick inhale. a hesitation she probably isn’t even aware of.

you blink.

she blinks.

and just like that, her usual sharp expression returns, like she wasn’t just caught red-handed checking you out.

"keep up, caddy," she says coolly, turning on her heel. walking ahead of you

but her voice isn’t as sharp as before. slightly wavering and breathless.

you squint at her.

that was definitely something.

you hoist the golf bag onto your shoulder with a frustrated sigh, muttering under your breath as you follow after her. "this is gonna be the worst summer of my life."

she doesn’t turn around, but you swear you see the tiniest smirk.

the day only got worse from there. as if lugging around a golf bag that felt like it was stuffed with bricks wasn’t enough, you quickly learned that being jimin’s caddy also meant serving as her personal errand runner. every time she hit a ball off-course. which, to your growing dismay, was more often than you expected. she’d wave you off with a casual, “go fetch.”

and so, you trudged through endless patches of rough, waded through ankle-deep ponds, and even had to dig through bushes that seemed personally offended by your presence. at one point, you nearly lost your footing in a muddy ditch, and when you glanced back at jimin for some semblance of pity, she was too busy taking pictures. of you.

she was documenting your suffering.

"you’re actually evil," you huffed, you grumble, wiping a streak of dirt from your cheek with the back of your hand.

jimin forces her expression into something neutral, trying not to squeal at how adorable you look with a streak of dirt near where you just rubbed. ignoring the way her pulse has picked up.

"oh, come on, hotshot. i’m giving you a real athlete’s workout,” her voice comes out smoother than she expects, she can feel a slight waver in her voice. adjusting her visor with a smile that was entirely too pleased seeing you all dirty. she watches you bend down again, muscles flexing under that stupidly tight shirt. the sun clings to your skin, highlighting every sharp dip and defined ridge of your back as you drag another golf ball out of the mud.

before she can think twice she snaps another photo and sends it away into the groupchat. Her camera roll is basically just a collection of you suffering. her fingers hesitate before sending another one. she observed the recent picture; dirt smeared across your sharp jaw, shirt sticking to your back, the messy, tousled way your bangs fall over your forehead.

you look–

she presses her lips together, hard trying to shoo away the tingling feeling in her lower stomach. she swallows, shifting as you shake the ball off, sending tiny droplets flying, some landing on your shirt. the fabric clings a little more, stretched over the plane of your shoulders, and jimin lets out a slow, measured exhale through her nose. gaining her composure. her phone vibrates.

minjeong : omfg is she into women

aeri : BRO THAT BACKK

ningning : jimin why are you not on your knees begging for it

she rolled her eyes at her friends reactions towards the recent picture she sent with a caption of “asshole looking for the money she owes me”

but she isn’t fooling anyone. least of all herself. because when you push yourself up again, wiping sweat off your face with the hem of your shirt, exposing the faintest hint of your stomach, jimin’s stomach flips. she squeezes her thighs together. she needs to get a grip.

“you done gawking?”

her head snaps up. your brows are raised, a smirk playing at your lips as you watch her, amusement flickering in your eyes.

fuck.

"please," she scoffs, shoving her sunglasses back onto her face to hide her cheeks turning red. "don't flatter yourself."

she turns on her heel before she can do something humiliating. like actually drop to her knees.

jimin tells herself she’s just enjoying the entertainment. that’s all this is. watching you struggle under the weight of the golf bag, huffing as you haul clubs around like you’re in a survival challenge, is simply amusing.

but then there’s the way your shoulders flex when you readjust the strap. the way your forearms tighten when you lift a particularly heavy bag. the way your back muscles ripples under your shirt whenever you bend down to grab a stray golf ball.

it keeps the bad thoughts coming

she rolls her wrist, pretending to focus on lining up her next shot, but her mind is elsewhere. on the way you pushed your sleeves up earlier, the way your fingers curled around the soaked golf ball when you pulled it out of the pond. on the way you muttered under your breath, exasperated but still doing what she asked.

she clicks her tongue, shaking off the thought. Ridiculous. still, when you lift the bag onto your shoulder again, jaw set in stubborn determination, she feels something stupid and fluttery in her stomach.

“you better not be slacking back there, hotshot,” she calls out, voice steady, even if she feels anything but.

when you glare at her, eyes full of irritation, she almost forgets to breathe. you mutter something under your breath, probably another complaint about how unfair this whole arrangement is, and jimin should let it slide. she really should. but instead, she glances over just in time to catch the way you roll your shoulders back, shaking out the soreness like you’re on the court, like you’re about to sprint past defenders and sink a perfect shot. it’s so effortless—so natural—that for a second, she isn’t thinking about your debt or your grumbling or how much fun it is to make you suffer.

for a second, she’s just watching you move. her fingers tighten around her club.

“you’re really struggling, huh?” she teases, forcing her tone to stay light, even as something deep in her chest feels a little less steady. “should’ve hit the weight room instead of all that dribbling.”

you scoff, swinging the bag off your shoulder with one smooth motion. “please. you’d collapse if you had to carry this thing for five minutes.”and jimin should roll her eyes. should brush off the remark like she always does. but then you flex your hands, fingers stretching before tightening into a brief fist, veins barely visible against your skin.

her stomach does something weird.

she exhales sharply through her nose, turns away, and focuses very hard on adjusting her glove.

“whatever helps you sleep at night, hotshot.”

when she hears you groan behind her, she smiles to herself. but she doesn’t look back.

doesn’t trust herself to.

as you got ready for bed you read the text sent by the same unknown number from yesterday night. “7:30 sharp at the docks. eat bfr coming. im not feeding you. bring swim wear and a change of clothes.” you groaned loudly trying not to think about what she’ll be doing next.

“no fucking way.”

the words slip past your lips before you can stop them, eyes locked onto the massive yacht bobbing lazily on the crystal-clear water. sunlight bounces off the pristine white exterior, almost blinding, the sheer size of the vessel making your stomach twist with unease.

jimin stands a few feet ahead, completely at ease, like she was born to be here. her sunglasses are perched on top of her head, holding back strands of dark hair that catch in the wind. but that’s not what’s throwing you off.

it’s what she’s wearing.

the bikini is black, tiny, the kind that barely counts as clothing under the oversized white button up. the top ties behind her neck, accentuating the curve of her collarbones, the smooth lines of her shoulders. the bottoms sit high on her hips, the strings digging just enough into her skin to make something tighten low in your stomach.

the button up hanging loose off one shoulder, dipping low enough to tease the shape of her waist. it should make it less distracting, but it does the exact opposite. every time she moves, the material shifts, threatening to slip just enough to reveal more.

the teasing skin peaking from her button up that barely covers anything made something tighten in your lower stomach. you clenched your stomach muscle trying to regain grip of reality.

she finally glances back at you, raising a single brow like you’re being dramatic. “what?”

you blink, dragging your gaze up to her face like you hadn’t just been staring. “this is insane.” you gesture vaguely at the boat, trying to focus. “this is … this is some billionaire level shit. why am i here?”

her lips curl into a smirk, effortless and sharp. "because im not manning the sails this time, and luckily, you’re in debt to me."

before you can shoot back a very creative insult, a new voice cuts in, light, teasing, but with an unmistakable authority. "jimin, don’t be mean to your friend."

you turn just in time to see a woman stepping onto the dock, effortlessly elegant in a white sundress, dark hair twisted into a perfect bun. she moves like she belongs in a high end magazine, every step deliberate, eyes sharp as they take you in. and she looks exactly like how you’d imagine jimin looks like in 30 years.

"she's not my friend, mother," jimin corrects smoothly, adjusting her sunglasses. "she's my employee." smirking smugly as her mother grimaces at her oldest daughter. you shoot her a glare. "wow. charming as ever."

jimin’s mother merely smiles, amused. by how you handled her moody daughter. "well, employee or not, she's a guest today. come on, everyone's waiting on the boat."

you have no choice but to follow, your arm brushing against jimin’s as you step onto the yacht. the contact is brief, barely anything, but it makes your skin prickle, your senses hyper-aware of her proximity.

jimin isn't sure why she thought today would be easy.

it should be. she should be enjoying herself sailing with her family, soaking up the sun, watching you struggle to keep up. enjoying the sounds of your misery.

but instead, she’s distracted.

you’re sitting on the edge of the boat, legs stretched out, the ocean breeze playing with your hair. jimin watches, unable to help herself.

it’s not the muscles that have her staring, the muscles that she could vividly see from your white blouse that clings to your back, not really. it’s the way you move. the way your fingers work at the sleeves of your t-shirt, rolling them up with an absentminded ease, knotting the fabric at your elbows like it’s second nature. the way the sun clings to your skin, highlighting the gentle slopes of your arms, the curve of your shoulders. she doesn’t fail to notice the way your forearm muscles tightens as you fix your sleeve.

when you reach up to wipe at your forehead, a loose strand of hair falls into your face. you don’t notice at first, too busy squinting at something in the distance. then, with the smallest furrow of your brows, you shake your head just enough to make it shift, the motion unintentional, frustratingly endearing. and slightly domestic.

jimin’s chest tightens.

you’re adorable. ridiculously cute— no. stop it no shes not. she’s an asshole. she’s a stupid prick that crashed into your car.

and then you laugh quietly, mostly to yourself, like you just remembered something funny. the sound is soft, barely carried by the wind, but jimin feels it like a physical thing, like it reaches out and tugs at something deep inside her.

jimin looks away immediately, but it doesn’t help. because even when she’s not looking at you, she can still hear you—your quiet laughter, the soft hum you make under your breath as you stretch out your arms, the way you mutter something to yourself like you’re having a conversation in your own head.

she scowls. you’re so... you. completely unaware of the way you pull people in, make them want to lean closer, watch a little longer. it’s infuriating.

her fingers tighten around the railing. get a grip, jimin. but it’s hard when you keep doing things like scrunching your nose in concentration, tilting your head like a confused puppy at the sails above, or biting your lip in thought. completely unaware that someone is watching you, studying you.

and maybe that’s what’s getting to her the most.

it’s not the muscles, not the way you look, not even the way you carry yourself. it’s the way you exist, so utterly and completely in your own world. so unguarded. jimin doesn’t do unguarded. she doesn’t do soft, doesn’t do the kind of feelings that make your stomach twist and your throat feel tight. she does casual. she teases and flirts and doesn’t get attached.

she clears her throat, flexing her fingers before curling them into fists. she needs to do something—anything—to snap herself out of it.

“you’re gawking,” a voice beside her says, amused.

jimin stiffens. “am not.”

hanni, leaning lazily against the railing, tilts her head with the smuggest expression. “right. because you totally weren’t just staring like you forgot how to blink.” jimin scoffs, shoving her sunglasses onto her face with too much force. “you’re delusional.”

“and you’re in denial.”

jimin ignores her, choosing to focus on the water instead. the waves are steady, predictable, easy to think about. not like what she’s feeling in her chest. when she sees you dangling your feet from the yacht.

but hanni isn’t done.

“you know,” she hums, rocking onto the balls of her feet, “if you keep looking at her like that, someone might get the wrong idea.”

jimin doesn’t turn. “there is no idea to get.” she says firmly.

hanni grins. “sure. whatever you say, unnie.”

you shouldn't be enjoying this. well technically the hard labour hasn’t started yet. so you’re trying to enjoy the open water and much needed fresh air before jimin makes you her slave again. it feels nice.

"you seem to be having fun," jimin remarks, stepping up beside you. breaking the silence. here we go you thought. after ignoring her little sisters’ teasing. or, talk, you didn’t hear what they talked about but jimin looked pretty riled up after what hanni said. she’s decided to interrupt your peace and make your day worse.

you shrug, stretching your arms above your head with a dramatic sigh. "what can i say? i thrive in any environment." you said as you placed both arms beside letting it fall lazily. leaning on it. you blink your eyes open, glancing at her. her sunglasses are perched high on her nose, shielding her gaze, but you can still feel her looking. observing you.

her lips twitch, as if amused. "you nearly died on the green yesterday."

"yeah, well." you shift arms as you drawl out, shooting her a lopsided grin. "i'm an adaptable person."

there’s a beat of silence, but not the peaceful kind. it’s charged, stretching between you like a live wire. jimin’s head tilts ever so slightly, her gaze sweeping over you in a way that’s too slow, too deliberate. it makes your skin prickle, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.

"apparently."

something about the way she says it makes your pulse jump. you shift under her scrutiny, suddenly too warm.her sunglasses may hide her eyes, but the smirk curling at the corner of her lips betrays her. it’s not just amused. it’s knowing, like she’s already several steps ahead of you in whatever game she’s playing. you shift, suddenly aware of how warm your skin feels. not from the sun, but from her unwavering attention.

"why are you looking at me like that?" you ask, voice coming out less steady than you wanted.

jimin doesn’t answer right away. instead, she steps in, just enough that the scent of her expensive perfume. fresh and citrusy, but with a sharp undertone wraps around you. she leans in, just slightly, just enough to test the space between you.

"like what?" she asks, voice lilting, teasing.

your voice stuck in your throat. you swallow.

"like you’re plotting my demise." you reply, forcing yourself to hold your ground.

her smirk deepens. she reaches up, adjusting her sunglasses with two fingers, and you catch a glimpse of her eyes beneath them. dark, glinting with something unreadable. "maybe i am."

the way she says it, low and smooth, sends an unwelcome shiver down your spine. you roll your eyes, ignoring the way your heartbeat picks up. "so much for enjoying the breeze."

jimin hums, dragging a slow gaze down the length of you before flicking it back up, lazy and considering. she taps a finger against her chin, as if in deep thought, before her lips curl into something far too smug.

"since you're so adaptable," she says, gesturing toward the rigging with an air of faux innocence, "you can help with the sails."

you groan, trudging over. she watches you come closer, arms crossed, lips curling ever so slightly.

she is not looking at your arms again.

she’s not.

the moment jimin smirked at you and told you to help with the sails, you should’ve known you were about to be thrown into another situation where you had no idea what you were doing. you squint at the ropes in your hands, then at the towering mast, then at the intricate mess of rigging all around. why are there so many ropes?

"you look confused," jimin says, standing just a little too close behind you.

"i am confused," you reply. "this is, like, rich people knowledge. i don’t know how to do any of this."

she huffs out a laugh. it almost sounds melodic in your ears. "rich people knowledge?"

"yes." you tug experimentally at one of the ropes, watching it pull at something above. "why do you even know how to do this? you’re not a pirate."

"my father made me learn when i was younger," she says. "he said that if we were going to own a yacht, we should at least know how to use it properly."

you snort. "wow. tragic backstory."

"just shut up and let me teach you," she mutters, stepping in closer.

you open your mouth to protest, but then her hands find yours.

your brain short-circuits.

her touch is soft– unexpectedly so. but firm, her fingers pressing lightly against yours, guiding them over the rope with practiced ease. her skin is cool against your own, which feels too warm all of a sudden, heat blooming along your knuckles, creeping up your arms. you swear its the burning sun right above you.

she leans in slightly, voice lower now that she’s right beside you. "you need to loop it like this. if you tie it too loose, the sail won’t hold. too tight, and you’ll mess up the balance."

you nod, but it’s a lie. you barely register what she’s saying.

because she’s close. close enough that her shoulder brushes against yours, close enough that you can smell the faint trace of her perfume mixed with the salt of the ocean. the warmth of her breath ghosts over your skin as she exhales, sending a shiver trailing down your spine.

your fingers twitch under hers. "right. got it," you manage, though your voice is slightly higher than usual. jimin chuckles low, quiet, right near your ear. your stomach flips. she’s enjoying this. you can tell. and judging by the smug curve of her lips when you glance at her, she knows exactly what she’s doing to you.

you fumble with the ropes when she moves away as the wind picks up and before you know it, the rope slips through your fingers like water. the sail jerks violently in response, the sudden shift sending a sharp ripple through the boat.

"Shit-" you let out.

jimin moves fast, instinct kicking in as she reaches for the rigging to correct your mistake. but in the process, she miscalculates and her foot catches against yours that made her stumble.

and then, so do you.

your back slams against the side of the boat, the wooden railing pressing into your spine as you suck in a sharp breath. the impact sends a jolt through your body, momentarily stunning you, but your instincts take over before you can think. one hand grabs onto the railing for support, while the other finds jimin’s waist, fingers tightening reflexively around the fabric of her shirt where you can subtly feel her curves.

she stumbles into you fully, her body pressing flush against yours.

your heart stutters.

at the same time, jimin’s arm slings over your shoulder in a desperate attempt to steady herself, the warmth of her palm seeping through your long sleeves swim suit where she grips your biceps. her other hand is splayed against your arm, fingers digging in just enough for you to feel the faint press of her nails.

and suddenly, you’re close.

too close. you could feel the curves of her body against you. and how small she is in yor arms.

her body is warm, the scent of salt and sunscreen clinging to her skin. you can feel the way she breathes, chest rising and falling against yours. every small shift sends a spark of awareness shooting down your spine, your pulse hammering in your ears as the realization sinks in.

jimin is practically in your arms and she isn’t moving. neither are you.

her sunglasses slip down her nose from the movement, revealing her eyes for the first time today. deep brown, glinting under the sun, flickering with something you can’t quite read.

your breath catches in your throat. she looks so beautiful.

the ocean breeze swirls around you, but all you can feel is the heat radiating from her skin. your fingers twitch at her waist, hyper-aware of the way the fabric of her shirt feels beneath your palm, the slight give of her small body against yours. and the way you could subtly feel some of her skin against your swim wear.

jimin’s grip on your shoulder tightens, her jaw clenched, lips parted like she’s trying to find the right words. but none come. you dont know whats going through her mind but you knew for sure she isn’t moving when you saw how her eyes flickered to your lips. somehow it made your heart flutter.

you could feel her leaning into you slightly.

and then—

"are you two gonna kiss or what?"

the words cut through the moment like a gunshot.

you jerk back, nearly losing your footing, barely managing to catch yourself before you go overboard. while jimin’s reaction is immediate. her head whips around so fast her visor nearly flies off, her expression shifting from surprise to outright murderous in the blink of an eye.

"seriously?" she snaps.

hanni, standing a few feet away, leans against the railing with the smuggest grin you’ve ever seen. jimin groans, yanking herself out of your grasp, face scrunched in exasperation. you, on the other hand, are still stuck processing what just happened, trying to ignore the way your pulse is hammering in your ears. and how you miss the closeness between you two.

after jimin left you to man the sails alone while she went to cool off, you actually got pretty good at it. her dad even threw in some pointers, guiding you through the ropes. literally. by now, you had a decent handle on things, adjusting the sails without fumbling, reading the wind like it was second nature. the boat had drifted far from shore, the coastline long gone, replaced by nothing but open water stretching endlessly in every direction.

"you can slow down here, y/n," jimin’s dad called from behind you as you pulled at the ropes, adjusting the sails to ease the boat to a gentler pace. you heard him shift, standing to get a better look at the sea. "your friend’s a natural, jimin. almost better than you!" his voice carried a teasing lilt.

you glanced toward where jimin sat, catching the way her expression twisted in surprise, then in pure irritation. she scoffed, rolling her eyes before mumbling something you couldn’t quite catch under her breath.

you smirked, triumphant, meeting her gaze.

she narrowed her eyes. then, she raised her hand and flipped you off. unhinged woman. your smirk faltered. rude.

but before you could retaliate, jimin moved. without hesitation, she stood, reaching for the buttons of her white shirt. and then she pulled it off.

your brain short-circuited.

the world around you dimmed, the sound of the ocean fading into white noise as your eyes locked onto the sight in front of you. jimin, standing tall against the backdrop of the sea, the late afternoon sun catching on her skin, making her glow.

she wore a dark bikini underneath, the contrast against her pale sun-kissed skin. her collarbones, sharp and delicate, dipped into smooth shoulders. her toned stomach tensed slightly as she tossed her shirt aside, the movement effortless, like she’d done this a thousand times before.

you were gawking.

full-on, shamelessly gawking.

your brain screamed at you to stop staring, trying to maintain your pride. but your body refused to cooperate. your grip on the ropes slackened slightly, fingers numb as your heart threw itself against your ribs.

jimin caught the look on your face and smirked.

"what?" she teased, tilting her head slightly, the picture of nonchalance. "you act like you’ve never seen someone undress before."

you opened your mouth.whether to respond or gasp for air, you weren’t sure. but nothing came out.

jimin grinned, pleased with herself, before turning toward the edge of the boat. with one quick motion, she dove into the water, leaving you standing there, still reeling, heat creeping up your neck.

you blinked.

then, as if snapping out of a trance, you stumble forward, rushing to the railing. “i—i have!” the words rush out too fast, tripping over themselves, your voice cracking at the end. you cringe.

jimin flicked her hair back as water drips from her lashes. she treads the water effortlessly, blinking up at you with an infuriatingly amused expression. “oh?” her tone is light, teasing, but there’s something smug underneath it, something that makes your stomach twist. “sure doesn’t sound like it.”

your grip on the railing tightens, knuckles paling. “what—i—" you struggle to form a coherent thought, already feeling your face burning. “i have! plenty of times! so many times!”

her giggles spills into the air, bright and carefree, and it does something to you makes your heart stutter, your skin prickle with warmth. she tilts her head back, still treading water, the sun catching in her damp hair. “right, sure. totally convincing.”

you scowl, shifting on your feet, jaw tightening. “it’s true! i’ve seen—” you pause, realizing too late that you have absolutely no idea how to finish that sentence without sounding even more embarrassing. “—a lot. like, more than you. probably.”

jimin raises a brow, cocking her head. “oh? who?”

your stomach twists into a knot, your brain sending red flags. screaming at you to abort mission immediately. you clear your throat, straightening up, forcing a casual shrug. “no,” you say, too quickly. “that’s private information.”

jimin watches you for a beat, her lips twitching like she’s holding back another laugh. then she smirks, shaking her head. “uh-huh. totally not a virgin.”

“i’m not!” you blurt, leaning forward slightly, the desperation in your voice betraying you.

her grin only widens, eyes twinkling with mischief as she sways in the water. “whatever helps you sleep at night, captain.”

you groan, dropping your head against the railing in defeat as she swims off, still laughing, while you try to cooldown after the embarrassing encounter.

“y/n! jump in!” you heard hanni yell from behind you. as you lift your head up you saw her lining up to jump in. she jumped in with a big splash. droplets sprayed onto the deck. jimin’s mom called out “hanni be careful!”

your gaze shifts slightly, catching sight of jimin a few feet away, floating on her back with her eyes closed, her dark hair fanning out around her like ink in the water. her skin glistens under the sun, droplets clinging to her collarbones, trailing down the curve of her neck. you sighed, your body got hot after the embarrassing encounter and also seeing jimin swim. you needed to cool down. you exhale sharply, shaking yourself out of it. if you stay up here any longer, you’ll combust.

you roll your shoulders back, determined to regain at least a fraction of your dignity, and then you jumped. the moment you hit the water, a sharp chill runs through you, sending a jolt up your spine. it’s refreshing, the kind of coolness that makes your skin tingle, but it’s a relief from the heat that had been burning through you moments ago.

you resurface with a gasp, shaking water from your face, and when you blink the droplets away, the first thing you see is jimin.

she’s closer now. much closer.

your breath catches as she treads the water effortlessly, dark strands of wet hair clinging to her cheeks. the sun reflects off the droplets on her skin, making them glisten like tiny diamonds. she studies you, her gaze flickering over your face with a glint of something unreadable.

“not bad,” she hums, tilting her head slightly.

you scoff, trying to ignore the way your skin prickles under her gaze. “i’d say the same for you, but you practically belly-flopped.”

jimin rolls her eyes, a smirk playing at her lips. you turn to swim away, but just as you do water hit your back. splash. you freeze. the feeling of cold water hits your back, sending a shiver up your spine.you turn back around slowly, and there she is half-smirking, half-feigning innocence, fingers still dripping from where she flicked water at you.

“did you just—?”

before you can finish your sentence, another splash comes at you, bigger this time, sending water cascading over your face. you sputter, wiping at your eyes, and jimin bursts out laughing, the sound rich and full, like wind chimes in the summer breeze.

thats it.

with no hesitation, you lunge forward, sweeping your hand through the water to send a wave right at her. she squeals, ducking just a second too late, and now it’s her turn to be dripping wet.

before you can react, she lunges toward you, fingers skimming along your arm as she tries to dunk you under. practically drowning you. instinctively, you grab her waist, attempting to shove her away, but the water betrays you both. it makes everything weightless, the waves crashing between your bodies pulling both of your boddies together. bodies tangling and shifting without control.

somehow, amongst the struggle, her arms end up draped over your shoulders, and your hands—god, your hands—find purchase at her waist again, fingers pressing into the bare skin beneath the hem of her swimsuit.

for a moment, neither of you move.

you can feel her breath against your face, warm despite the cool water surrounding you. the soft rhythm of her chest rising and falling against yours. the way her fingers tighten, just slightly, curling over the nape of your neck.

her eyes flicker up to meet yours deep brown, like melted chocolate, like something you could get lost in if you weren’t careful. they shift lower for a split second, down to your lips, before darting back up again.

your heart slams against your ribs. it looks like shes about to kiss you. a little voice in your head hoping she would and you swear the world tilts. or maybe it’s just the waves.

jimin blinks once, twice, her lashes damp and heavy with water, before her expression shifts. something playful flickers back into her eyes, her lips twitching.

and then, she shoves you under.

you barely have time to yelp before water fills your ears, muffling the sound of her laughter. when you break the surface again, gasping for air, she’s already swimming away, shooting you a look over her shoulder that’s equal parts smug and daring.

“too slow,” she calls out.

you push your wet hair back, panting, watching her retreating figure with something caught between disbelief and something else entirely. something warmer.

you remember the way her fingers curled at the nape of your neck. the way her breath fanned against your lips. the way, for a split second, it felt like the world had shrunk down to just the two of you.

you shake your head, forcing a scoff, trying to ignore the way your pulse is still erratic. this is jimin. jimin. the same girl who flipped you off an hour ago, who smirked as she stripped off her shirt just to get a reaction out of you.

nothing about this is different. you assure yourself. and yet, as you watch her swim away, her laughter still echoing in your ears, you can’t shake the feeling that something bloom in your chest.

[bewitched-hours]

hellllooo :)

since you're asking for yandere stuff rn, could i get some yandere 7n7 and noli x reader? :3 (idk if u like 7n7 and noli as a ship, if u dont, u dont have to do this request !!)

the reader and 7n7 meet for the first time when they got forsaken and start getting along, and they have no idea that they both dated noli at some point in their pasts. that is, until noli is added as a killer and theyre both like

"MY EX-SITUATIONSHIP!? ......YOUR ex-situationship?!" and then thats when the yandere shit starts happening teehee

headcanons or oneshot, whichever u feel like writing! (also ive noticed you adding more suggestive stuff to the end of ur fics, so if u wanna do that here go ahead ;3)

-maomao anon :D

Dw Maomao anon, I'm a multi-shipper. As long as it's not illegal, I'm open to it! Also, that scene is so funny in my head because I imagine it's like- 007 and reader already started dating when Noli appears and are shocked to find out they have a mutual ex- (I imagine it like that one spiderman meme) Also- please forgive me for not making him glitchy mainly because the amount of stuttering I'd have to write in makes me slightly cringe-

Anywho, reader's pronouns are She/They for this~

You were never quick to judge.

I mean, you were a hacker in the past, that's why you and Noli were a situationship before you got caught.

You weren't so remorseful of it like 007n7 but you two still bonded over being outcasts with similar pasts.

Yet, neither of you ever dared to mention Noli... For some reason.

It wasn't like you were really ashamed of it, Noli was fun for a situationship and you broke it off amicably by the end...

But it didn't matter in this cursed realm. 007 was practically head over heels for you and you felt the same. Hell, you even found out one of the killers was his son and tried to help him cope to the best of your abilities.

Sometimes you'd even try to give him hope by saying things like "when we all get out, I'm sure he'll be back to normal and we could take care of him... Together..." which seemed to make a slight sparkle appear in his eyes.

You never even considered taking care of a kid before. But seeing how committed you were to your fellow ex-hacker, you figured you could at least try... For him...

007 actually did once manage to find an old picture of him and c00lkidd and you caught yourself actually tearing up over how cute the little bugger was.

What could you say? You were a sucker for cute things. (Probably why you fell for 7n7)

And when you were told of all the chaos? You couldn't stop laughing for what felt like hours. You were definitely gonna encourage the kid to be chaotic but maybe in more harmless ways... Wouldn't wanna upset 7n7.

It was a surprise to learn a new killer was being introduced so you joked about it being your ex, conveniently forgetting to drop his name. 007 joined in on it, also conveniently forgetting to say his name.

How embarrassing to learn that you were both talking about the same person...

Regardless, you and 007n7 stuck with each other for the round. You were a little thankful the Spectre at least had a tendency to spawn you with the one person in this realm you could comfortably team up with.

Being that you were a support, you were able to compliment each other in your strategies quite nicely.

Although your strategies were usually just to protect 007 and yourself while he worked on teleporting you both away from the killer... You sadly couldn't heal...

But imagine the shock when you heard Noli's voice in the distance and both you and 007n7 suddenly stopped dead in your tracks, looking behind you to see Noli approaching before taking notice of your mutual shock that quickly turned to realization.

Oh for the love of- you have a mutual ex-situationship...

"Well, lookie here!" Noli chuckled. "Both my ex-situationships made it back to me! And together no less!" His words almost made you both blush. What was he implying with 'back to him'?

"Noli... What-" You barely managed to get out before he suddenly stood before you and 007, sending shivers up your spine as you tried not to scream in surprise. Although, you were holding 7n7's hand tighter-

"I might not be able to spare you two but considering you've never left my heart, how about I leave you for last, make it quick and as painless as I can and then we meet up during rounds where we're all free!" He sounded like he had genuinely missed both you and 007, causing the two of you to give each other a questioning look before shrugging. "Good! Can't have my darlings running off and having fun without me!"

He disappeared almost as fast as he came, leaving you and 007n7 to stare at each other in shock for a couple of seconds before continuing on while you talked.

"Was he just saying what I think he said??"

"I guess?? Are you even okay with it?"

"I mean- Yeah- You're both good partners in your own ways and I admittedly still have feelings lingering there... Just sucks he's a killer now..."

You both went on to reminisce on your pasts with Noli, chuckling at the chaos and audibly wondering what he might be thinking of doing during your off-time. Of course neither of you dared to allow any nsfw thoughts into the conversation since you had only just reunited with the killer and are already talking about being a polycule. Were you going too fast? 007 didn't seem to be bothered...

Unlike Noli's promise, you both survived until the end, having managed to evade him and having all generators done.

You had no trouble sneaking out of the cabin when the participants of the next round were declared, considering the other survivors were used to 007 and you taking your off-time to your shared cabin.

But you weren't heading for your cabin this time. Instead, you were heading further out to find Noli. Presumably in the middle of the map.

Where was the middle? Neither of you had the slightest idea. You didn't even know where the Killer's cabin was so how would you know where the middle is?

Regardless, it seemed you were lucky in a way. Noli had been looking for 007 and you as well and almost hugged you both half to death when he could finally interact with you without needing to kill you. It was... Oddly sweet...

The three of you went on to just talk about everything that had happened without each other while you sat absentmindedly on 7n7's lap. A habit you had formed and never bothered to correct. At first it was to help him calm down after nightmares by letting him hold you like a stuffed toy but then it escalated into a habit you did as a form of reassurance or comfort... Or simply just affection-

And it wasn't surprising that Noli wanted in on this.

"Maybe you'd enjoy some love from both sides, my dear?" He chuckled, watching your face flush as him and 007 practically held you in a sandwich cuddle pile and began spoiling you with kisses. All that love practically made you melt right into their grip.

It didn't help that you were all alone and were close enough to feel them both...

Yeah, you'll be dead before you even try bringing up that situation.

Wow I've been procrastinating on this

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[child-of-helios]

One day, Hephaestus comes to the forge, his usual creativity and cheerful attitude gone. "I heard news from my mother," he said, "your friend, Jason, passed away." As the words left his mouth, Leo felt himself fall to his knees. He hadn't forgotten about Jason, quite the contrary; Jason had become his muse, his inspiration. Leo was planning to go back to camp and show Jason everything he had made, he was looking forward to it. His chest felt tight and he could barely breathe. When was the last time he had spoken to Jason? How had this happened? Why did it happen? Did the fates have to take everyone he loved away? And it was how his father described Jason that hurt the most: a friend. Leo had always thought of them as something different, but that had never come to fruition. After all, Jason was with Piper and who would be stupid enough to leave a great girl like Piper for Leo? What did the world think of him? Did they believe him deceased? In this moment, Leo wished he was. Then at least he and Jason would be together. That is, if Leo even made it to Elysium, which he doubted. He realized he had been crying his eyes out when his father gave him a towel (which dries all liquids, they used it for oil spils) to dry his tears. Hephaestus wasn't the best with emotions, which he passed down to Leo, but his father still sat by him as Leo sobbed for what felt like hours. It was times like these the he wished he hadn't survived the fire that killed his mother, that he hadn't survived all those monster encounters, that he had just died after killing Gaia. He stood up and walked over to his workbench, he could at least make himself useful by working on something instead of wallowing in self pity. After all, it was only with Jason's help that he knew to process his grief and Leo had a feeling he wouldn't be helping anytime soon.

AU where, instead of going off with Calypso, Leo went to work with Hephaestus in his forges as a reward for his hard work defeating Gaea. He can finally find a place where he belongs, connect with his dad, and learn to rise above his insecurities and recognise his own power and skill. He could learn to wield his fire as a tool to help, and not be afraid of it anymore.

It’d just be for the summer at first, but if he does well Hephaestus might let him stay on full time as his apprentice, and maybe even make him immortal.

[theodorenmyth]

this might be lowk dumb but academic rival reader w theo where she outsmarted him in class or scored better than him on a test and he basically fucked her dumb to mend his bruised ego? lots of degradation +++ WHATIF somebody walked in (*ahem* mattheo)

idk im high dont judge me 😭🙏🙏

Outsmarted.

Pairings ; Theodore Nott x GN!Reader

Summary ; In a tense rivalry with Theodore Nott, you outsmart him in class and score higher on a test, only to find yourself at the mercy of his ego. What starts as a battle of wits quickly spirals into an intense, degrading game of power and control, where Theodore pushes you to your limits.

A/N ; OMFG this is the first full smut fic I've wrote in MONTHS. Please bear with me 😓🥹 oh and I also changed it into gender-neutral y/n because I saw that you put she and her, and since I don't write for f!reader, I'm so sorry 🥹 still, enjoy! :D (there's still slight aftercare in the end, dw)

Warnings ; NSFW, degradation, overstimulation, rough sex, power dynamics, accidental exposure, oral sex, anal sex

word count ; 5k+

The moment Slughorn said your name, you knew the entire classroom had shifted.

A few heads turned your way, some surprised, some not. You didn’t look up immediately—no, that would ruin the effect. You waited, just a moment, pen paused at the edge of your parchment, letting the attention simmer in the air. Then, with perfect calm, you lifted your eyes, looked the professor square in the face, and smiled.

“The highest mark in the class,” Slughorn boomed, holding up your parchment as though it were a sacred scroll. “Y/N has once again impressed me. Their essay on Veela charm magic was truly outstanding. The way you connected the emotional manipulation to Occlumency theory… Brilliant. Simply brilliant.”

Your smile widened as a very specific pair of eyes practically drilled into the side of your head. You didn’t need to look to know who it was. Theodore Nott had been sitting in the same bloody seat for the past year—third row from the front, one seat left of center. And right now, you could practically hear his teeth grinding.

You turned your head just enough to catch him in your peripheral vision. His quill was stilled. His jaw was locked tight. He was staring straight ahead, but his gaze was ice.

The smugness bubbling in your chest was almost criminal.

Because this was a rare moment—a very rare moment. Theodore Nott was the golden boy. Always top of the class, always confident, always with just enough charm to get away with being insufferably smug. You’d spent years trading barbed words and subtle jabs with him across shared subjects. But he never lost. Not in Slughorn’s class.

Until now.

And you had done it.

The rest of the class buzzed with chatter as students began packing up, chairs scraping, parchment rustling. Slughorn dismissed everyone with a cheerful wave, but you stayed seated, fingers tapping slowly against the desk, taking your time.

You knew he’d come to you.

You were counting on it.

Sure enough, his voice came just as the last student filed out of the dungeon.

“You really think this means something?”

You looked up slowly, turning to face him. Theodore stood at the edge of your desk, arms crossed, expression tight and unreadable. He looked calm, but there was a tension in his shoulders. A subtle twitch in his fingers.

“I think it means I’m smarter than you,” you replied coolly.

His eyes narrowed. “By one point.”

“Still higher,” you said, blinking innocently. “That’s how numbers work, Nott.”

He exhaled through his nose, sharp and irritated. “Slughorn’s biased. He always has been. You flirt with him like it’s a hobby.”

You raised your brows, fighting the grin tugging at your lips. “Oh? Jealous?”

Theodore’s jaw ticked. “Hardly. I just think you’ve got a talent for being manipulative.”

You stood, slowly gathering your things. “And you don’t? Please, Theo, I’ve seen the way you flash that little smirk when you know you’re ahead. Don't get salty just because I gave you a taste of your own game.”

“I didn’t lose,” he said, voice low.

You stepped closer, slinging your bag over one shoulder, chin tilted just slightly. “You did. You just can’t admit it. Poor Theo. All that pride… fragile, isn’t it?”

His eyes flared. “Watch it.”

You leaned in just slightly, dropping your voice to a whisper as you brushed past him. “Why? Worried I’ll bruise your ego again?”

He stepped closer, a bit too close, really. You could smell the faint whiff of expensive cologne and mint tea on his breath. His pale eyes burned into yours, but your expression didn’t falter.

He looked like he wanted to strangle you.

Or kiss you.

Or both.

“You’re awfully smug for someone who scraped ahead by one point,” he snapped.

You gave a mock gasp. “Oh no, not one point!” You clutched your chest theatrically. “Guess that means I still beat you.”

He let out a low exhale through his nose, jaw flexing. “You’re asking for it.”

You stepped into him now, narrowing the space even more, just to get under his skin. You made sure your voice was low, teasing, each word dipped in honey. “You gonna punish me, Nott? For being smarter than you?”

His eyes darkened in a way that made your breath catch, but you didn’t back down. You leaned in closer until your lips barely brushed the shell of his ear.

“Go on then. Show me how much it bruised your pretty little ego.”

You pulled away slowly, letting your fingers graze his as you moved past. Your shoulder brushed his chest and you swore you heard the faintest hitch in his breath.

Then you paused in the doorway.

“Oh,” you said over your shoulder, tone deliberately sweet, “if you need help understanding the theory I wrote about, I’d be more than happy to tutor you.”

That got him.

His expression darkened as he took a single step toward you, and you swore there was a flicker of something wicked in his eyes—anger, yes, but something else, too. Something darker. Rougher.

Possessive.

“I don’t need help,” he said tightly.

“Hmm,” you hummed, looking him up and down with a smirk. “Could’ve fooled me.”

And with that, you turned and disappeared into the corridor, heart pounding in your chest—not from fear, but from the anticipation coiling hot and tight in your stomach.

You’d poked the beast.

No, provoked it.

You wanted to see him crack.

You wanted to see that perfect, composed mask of his shatter.

And something told you Theodore Nott wasn’t going to let this one go.

Not quietly.

Not gently.

Not at all.

You didn’t expect him to catch you so soon.

One minute you were strolling down the corridor toward the dungeons, minding your business, savoring the echo of your earlier win like the last bite of something sinfully sweet—and the next, a hand curled around your upper arm and yanked.

You gasped, stumbling forward before you recognized the familiar grip. Long fingers, knuckles pale with tension. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Oh,” you said lightly, letting him drag you without resistance, “so you do handle rejection poorly. Thought so.”

Theodore didn’t even glance at you. His grip tightened like a vice around your arm.

“Back to the common room?” you drawled. “You gonna cry about your test score or beg me to tutor you—?”

“Keep talking,” he interrupted, voice so low it vibrated through your spine. “And you won’t even make it through the door before I’m shoving my cock down your throat.”

Your heart stopped.

The smugness drained from your face so fast it was dizzying. Your lips parted, a retort on the tip of your tongue—but nothing came out.

You weren’t scared, not exactly—but the intensity in his voice, that cold fury barely restrained, struck something primal. You swallowed hard and glanced up at him, pulse skittering.

The side of his mouth twitched, like he’d noticed the shift in your expression and liked it.

“Thought so,” he muttered, dragging you faster now.

Through the Slytherin entrance. Past a handful of students who barely spared you two a glance. You moved quietly now, your earlier cockiness hollowed out, replaced by something hot and anxious low in your belly.

By the time he shoved open the door to the boys’ dorm, you were breathless.

He pulled you inside and kicked the door shut behind you with a loud thud. Before you could speak, he spun you around, slammed you against it, and braced a hand on either side of your head, caging you in.

His voice was gravel. “You want to act like you’ve got the upper hand?”

You blinked at him, trying to recover your tone. “I—I’m just naturally—”

He cut you off by grabbing your jaw, thumb swiping over your lips with a possessive drag. “Go ahead. Act like you’re in control.”

“I…” you breathed, but even you heard how weak it sounded. You tried again, softer this time. “I am.”

His expression sharpened into something hungry.

“No,” he said, almost pitying. “You’re just mouthy. And I’m going to ruin that mouth first.”

He shoved your shoulders, guiding you down fast—too fast to resist—and your knees hit the floor with a quiet thump. The carpet dug into your skin, but you barely noticed. Your breath hitched as you looked up at him, his hand still gripping your hair.

“Open.”

You hesitated. Just a flicker. But that was all he needed.

“Oh, now you’re shy?” he mocked. “Figures. Smart little brat until there’s a cock in front of them.”

The heat of humiliation—and arousal—rushed through you. Slowly, shakily, you parted your lips.

Theodore’s eyes darkened. “Good.”

He undid his belt slowly, letting the clink of metal and drag of leather build anticipation. His cock was already hard when he pulled it free, tip flushed and glistening. Your mouth watered, and you didn’t even try to hide it.

“You gonna do this properly,” he murmured, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip, “or do I have to teach you how to suck cock too?”

You didn’t dare answer—not with your tongue darting out to taste him, warm and soft against the tip. His breath caught, his fingers tightening in your hair.

And then he was shoving into your mouth.

No warning. No gentle build-up.

Just Theodore’s cock stretching your lips, pushing past your tongue, pressing deep.

You gagged instantly, throat clenching around him, hands scrambling for purchase on his thighs. He didn’t stop—his hips rocked forward, slow but firm, dragging a strangled sound from your chest.

“That’s it,” he groaned. “Take it. Fucking take it.”

You whimpered, throat burning, tears stinging your eyes—but you adjusted. You had to. Your hands steadied, lips stretching, jaw aching as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked.

Theodore’s head tipped back slightly, a quiet curse escaping him.

“Merlin, you’re filthy,” he muttered. “Drooling all over me like a little whore.”

Your spit slicked his length, dripping down your chin as you took him deeper. The rhythm built quickly—his hand in your hair controlling the pace, your mouth hot and wet around him.

You looked up, eyes watery, and that broke him.

“Fuck, you’re pretty like this,” he rasped. “All that cleverness, gone the second I put my cock in your mouth.”

You moaned around him, deliberately loud. He hissed.

“You like this, don’t you?” he said through gritted teeth. “Getting face-fucked like a toy. You act so fucking smug, but this—this is all you’re good for.”

He thrust harder now, rougher, fucking your mouth like he meant to brand you from the inside out. You coughed around him, spit bubbling, hands trembling as he used you.

“Fucking pathetic,” he grunted. “Letting me use your mouth just ‘cause I said a few filthy words.”

You tried to keep eye contact. You really tried. But your lashes fluttered, head swimming.

And then—

“Shit. Gonna cum.”

You braced yourself, breath stuck in your throat as he shoved in deep, holding you there with his cock pressing past your tonsils.

Hot, bitter warmth flooded your mouth. You gagged once, eyes wide, but he held you still as he twitched against your tongue.

“Swallow,” he growled, breath ragged.

You did.

And then he slowly pulled out, watching a line of spit and cum trail from your lip to his cock. He cupped your cheek and forced your gaze up.

“Still feeling smart, sweetheart?”

You panted, lips red and swollen, face flushed and slick.

And despite everything, you managed a tiny smirk.

“Define smart.”

He laughed once—low and dangerous—then grabbed your arm and dragged you up.

The second he pulled you off the floor, your knees wobbled like they couldn’t support you anymore. But Theodore didn’t give you time to recover. He pushed you back, walking you until the backs of your legs hit his bed—and then he shoved you down.

“You’re not gonna be able to walk by the time I’m done with you,” he growled, standing between your legs, eyes dark with that same fury-laced lust that had burned behind them in class.

You opened your mouth, maybe to say something smug—something to keep your upper hand—but your breath caught as he suddenly grabbed the front of your shirt and ripped.

Buttons flew. The fabric tore straight down the middle.

You gasped, staring at him wide-eyed as he dropped the ruined cloth onto the floor like it meant nothing.

“Oh,” you breathed, your pulse thundering in your ears, “so you’re—mmf—that angry.”

He didn’t answer. Just pushed you flat against the bed and leaned down, growling against your neck, “Shut the fuck up.”

His hands were on your waistband next—hooking into your trousers and tearing them down with a swift, brutal yank that made your body jolt. You barely got a gasp out before he tossed them aside too, leaving you exposed and breathless, sprawled across his bed like a prize he was about to claim.

“You like making me lose,” he muttered, crawling over you, dragging the length of his body against yours. “But you’re gonna learn what happens when you push me.”

You tried to smirk, but it wavered when you felt his cock again—hot and heavy, smearing against your thigh as he settled between your legs. Your thighs twitched, instinctively parting for him even as your brain scrambled for control.

“Don’t worry,” you managed, voice already shaking. “You’re… good at making your point.”

Theodore’s eyes snapped to yours.

“You’re not funny.”

And then—he was inside you.

You gasped, a full-body jolt seizing through you as he buried himself to the hilt in one unrelenting thrust. You cried out, back arching, fingers clawing at the sheets beneath you as he bottomed out, grinding deep.

“Fuck,” he hissed, bracing his hands on either side of your head. “You’re so fucking tight.”

Your legs twitched around his hips. You bit your lip, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as your body struggled to take him, stretch for him—but the burn melted into a high, hot ache that made your mind go blank.

And then he moved.

Not gently.

Not slowly.

He pulled out halfway and slammed back in with a sharp snap of his hips, making you cry out again, louder this time. Your head tipped back against the pillow, voice already falling apart.

“This what you wanted?” he growled, fucking you harder now, setting a pace that was punishing from the start. “Wanted to act clever? Act smug?”

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. You just grabbed at his arms, your body bouncing with each thrust as he filled you again and again and again.

“Where’s that smart mouth now?” he snarled.

Your lips parted, a moan escaping instead of a word. Your brain was white noise.

He laughed—dark, breathless. “That’s what I thought.”

He shifted his grip, grabbing under your knees, pushing them back until your thighs pressed against your chest. The new angle made you sob, your whole body shaking as he pounded into you harder, deeper.

“You’re just a fucking hole now,” he breathed, voice like thunder in your ears. “Not so clever when you’re getting split open.”

Your eyes fluttered. You were seeing stars. Your whole body trembled with every thrust, every filthy word that poured from his mouth.

“You feel that?” he whispered, dragging his cock out slow, only to slam back in and knock the breath from your lungs. “That’s mine. All of this is mine.”

You moaned, your hands gripping his wrists now, holding on for dear life as your stomach tensed and heat coiled dangerously low.

He leaned in, forehead pressed to yours, hips still snapping in a ruthless rhythm.

“Say it.”

“Wh-What—”

“Say you’re mine.”

You choked out a whimper. “Y-Yours—fuck, I’m yours—”

“That’s right.” His voice cracked with hunger. “Fucking. Mine.”

You barely registered the way your body started to lock up—tightening, trembling—as you crashed straight into orgasm, legs shaking violently as you sobbed through it, overwhelmed and overstimulated.

Theodore grunted above you. His hips stuttered.

“Gonna fill you up,” he growled. “Make you walk around dripping with me. Show you who fucking owns you.”

You were too far gone to answer. You nodded helplessly, eyes wet, mouth open in a silent gasp.

Then he slammed in one last time—and came.

Hot and deep and thick, his cock twitching inside you as he spilled everything into you, groaning your name like a curse and a prayer all at once.

He stayed there for a moment, buried inside you, panting against your neck.

Then he pulled out slow—too slow—and you whimpered, body wrecked and twitching beneath him.

Your body was still trembling when Theodore dragged you up by the hips, flipping you over with zero care for how boneless you felt beneath him. Your legs barely held under you, arms shaky where your elbows sank into the mattress. Your face pressed into the sheets, still flushed, still sticky with sweat and spit and his cum.

“Get up,” he snapped, swatting your ass hard enough to make you jolt. “Hands and knees, now.”

You whimpered but obeyed, limbs folding into place automatically as he manhandled you into position. Your heart was still pounding—faster now. Louder. Because you weren’t sure if your body could take more, but god—you wanted it.

The moment your ass was up, Theodore grabbed your hips again, rough and greedy, spreading you open with both hands.

“Look at this,” he said, voice low, hungry. “Still dripping.”

You gasped as he shoved two fingers into you, fucking his cum back in without warning. You squirmed, hips twitching, a soft whimper catching in your throat.

“You’re gonna take it again,” he growled, curling his fingers. “Like a good little toy.”

You bit down on the sheets, heat rising in your chest again—shame and arousal twisting together until you couldn’t tell them apart. Your body rocked with every motion of his hand, slick and sensitive, your thighs already shaking again.

Then you felt his cock again—pressing against your hole, thick and hard and ready.

“Still so fucking tight,” he hissed, dragging the head up and down, teasing. “You should thank me. I’m gonna ruin you properly this time.”

He pushed in without warning.

You screamed into the sheets—legs nearly giving out—his cock splitting you open again, slower this time, making you feel every inch. Your arms trembled as he bottomed out and stayed there, grinding deep.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “You’re clenching so hard. You want me this bad already?”

You nodded frantically, unable to form words.

“Then beg.”

You sobbed. “P-Please, Theo—”

“Please what?” His hand came down hard across your ass again, the sound cracking through the air. “Use your words.”

“Please… please fuck me,” you breathed, desperate and shaking. “Fuck me stupid—use me—please—”

He chuckled darkly. “That’s more like it.”

Then he pulled out and slammed back in—harder than before. You cried out, face buried in the blankets as he began to fuck you like an animal, his pace brutal, punishing. His hands gripped your hips like he owned them, dragging you back on his cock again and again, each thrust hitting you so deep it knocked the breath from your lungs.

You were a mess. Moaning, shaking, soaked. Your body was wrecked, already overstimulated, but you couldn’t stop. Couldn’t ask him to stop.

“Fucking filthy,” he spat, thrusts getting rougher. “You act so cocky in class, and now look at you.”

He leaned forward suddenly, one hand wrapping around your throat, forcing your head up as he fucked into you from behind.

“Nothing but a fucktoy,” he growled against your ear. “Just something for me to use.”

Your mouth fell open, eyes glazed and watering.

You didn’t even hear the door open.

Didn’t hear the footsteps.

But Theodore did.

He froze mid-thrust, eyes snapping toward the dorm entrance—and you barely had time to turn your head, body still fully impaled on his cock, when the door swung open—and Mattheo FUCKING Riddle stepped in.

The scene he walked in on was nothing short of obscene: you on your stomach with your ass up, trembling violently, drooling into Theodore’s sheets, eyes fluttering and rolling back with every deep, punishing thrust. Theodore was balls deep inside you, pelvis flushed tight to your ass, one hand gripping your hips while the other pressed between your shoulder blades, holding you in place like you were nothing more than a toy he’d been wrecking for hours.

The room was filled with slick, wet sounds. Skin against skin. Your broken moans echoing off the walls. The heavy scent of sweat, cum, and sex hanging in the air like a fog.

Mattheo stopped.

Froze.

His jaw dropped.

You barely registered him through the haze in your brain—just a blur of dark curls, wide eyes, and a gaping mouth as your body spasmed again, Theodore’s cock twitching inside you.

The room went silent for a beat.

Then—

“OH FUCKING HELL—”

Mattheo shrieked—actually shrieked—spun on his heel, and slammed the door shut so hard it rattled the walls.

You thought he might’ve said something else—something like “I’m telling everyone”—but it was hard to tell over the rush of blood in your ears and the sound of your own whimper when Theodore thrust in deeper, still fully inside you.

You could feel yourself clench helplessly around him.

Your body twitched.

Your mouth hung open.

“The fuck,” you mumbled, completely dazed. “Did—was that Mattheo?”

Theodore groaned darkly behind you. “Don’t care.”

And then he started moving again.

Rougher. Meaner. Like the interruption had only made him more determined to fuck you stupid.

“Let him run his mouth,” he growled, hips snapping into yours. “Let him tell everyone. They should all know who you belong to.”

You cried out, hands gripping the sheets as your legs shook violently, brain melting into static as Theodore pounded you through it, deeper and deeper.

“Listen to you,” he hissed through his teeth, leaning over your back, one hand gripping your ass like he was molding it. “All that smugness gone. Just a whimpering little cocksleeve now, yeah?”

You sobbed, choking on your own moan as his hips slammed into you harder—meaner—his hand sliding around to squeeze and knead your ass with brutal, possessive fingers.

“Bet you like being fucked dumb,” he whispered against your neck, his pace losing rhythm. “Bet your needy little hole was made to be filled.”

One more thrust.

Two.

Then he slammed into you with a guttural moan, cock twitching deep inside as he spilled inside you, filling you again with hot ropes of cum. You could feel it pulse inside, hot and thick, and the sensation sent you over the edge all over again.

Your body jerked violently, trembling as your orgasm crashed through you a second time—strung out and raw, pleasure mixing with the overstimulation until your vision blurred.

“Fuck yes,” he muttered into your skin, still grinding into you, still squeezing your ass like he owned it. “Such a good little cumdump. Always so eager to be used.”

You couldn’t even answer. Just moaned weakly into the mattress, body limp and leaking, mind completely wrecked.

Your body felt like it was made of static.

Nerves buzzing, thighs quaking, mouth barely able to form words—just soft, broken little moans, every inhale catching in your throat. You were spent, wrung out and stuffed full, Theo’s cum still dripping from your used hole down your thighs in a hot, sticky mess.

But Theodore wasn’t done.

He didn’t say anything at first—just shifted you like you weighed nothing, dragging your trembling body upright, your chest pressed against his as he sat back against the headboard and pulled you onto his lap.

“Theo…” you whimpered, voice a desperate whine. “Please—can’t—can’t anymore, I can’t—”

“Shh,” he murmured, not unkindly. “You can.”

Your knees pressed into the bed on either side of his hips, shaking like leaves, and he wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you steady. His cock nudged against your still-leaking hole, already half-hard again from just the feel of you squirming in his lap.

“You’ve taken me so well tonight,” he whispered, lips brushing your jaw. “I want to see you ride me. Just once. Just one more.”

“Just one?” you sniffled, already pouting.

He chuckled lowly. “For now.”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering as he guided your hips—lining you up, the thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance, pushing back into your sore, stretched hole with agonizing slowness.

You choked on a moan, eyes tearing up as your walls fluttered helplessly around him.

“Theo—ah, f-fuck—it’s too much—”

“You’ll take it,” he murmured into your neck, holding you down as inch by inch, his cock disappeared inside you again. “Because you can. You were made for this.”

You clung to his shoulders, face flushed and streaked with sweat and tears. “Y-You’re so mean,” you whimpered. “S’not fair..”

His fingers dug into your thighs, nails leaving little crescent-shaped dents.

“Then stop being so fucking cute when you cry,” he muttered darkly.

He held you still for a moment, letting you shake and clench around him, lips ghosting over your skin as you panted like you’d just run a marathon.

And then he moved you.

Slowly.

Up.

Down.

Your breath hitched as your body slid down onto him again, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you, the wet sounds echoing obscenely through the room. Your moans were high-pitched now—desperate, broken. Every bounce made your thighs tremble harder, your arms tightening around his neck as you rode him with trembling, clumsy motions.

“Theo—please—f-feels weird, it’s too much—gonna—”

“You’re already so cockdrunk,” he muttered, voice thick. “Look at you. Whimpering like you’re not loving every second of it.”

You were. And you hated it.

Your face crumpled as your body clenched again, his cock kissing that spot deep inside you with every bounce. The overstimulation was unbearable—every thrust like fire and lightning all at once.

He helped you move, holding your hips and lifting you just to slam you back down on him. Your cries turned into gasps, then sobs, your legs barely holding you up.

“T-Theo, Theo—please, I can’t—gonna—gonna—again—”

You came with a strangled cry, your nails clawing down his back, body going stiff before collapsing into him. Your walls clamped down around him like a vice, trembling and pulsing around his cock, squeezing him so tightly he groaned against your throat.

He cursed under his breath, jerking his hips up once—twice—then stilled with a growl as he spilled inside you, hot and heavy, filling you to the brim again. His arms held you tight to his chest, one hand in your hair, the other cradling your lower back as your whole body went limp.

You were shaking like a leaf in his arms, and this time, Theodore didn’t make you move.

He just held you.

Whispered something into your hair, too soft to catch. Pressed his lips to your temple like he hadn’t just ruined you three times over. His hand slid up and down your spine, slow, gentle, soothing your trembling muscles with soft circles.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, breath tickling your skin.

You nodded against his neck with a small, pitiful hiccup. “Y-Yeah…”

“Too much?”

You whined. “Mhm.”

He chuckled softly, brushing your damp hair back from your face.

“You did so good, baby. So, so good.”

Your pout returned. “You’re being nice now.”

His lips curled against your skin. “I can be nice. Sometimes.”

You huffed softly, nose buried in his shoulder, still aching and dripping and completely, utterly ruined.

“I hate you.”

“Sure you do.”

The room was still thick with the heat of your final moments together. You felt drained, like every muscle had been sapped of its strength, but there was a strange warmth to the way Theodore held you close, his body still flush against yours, his cock still buried deep inside you. His grip on you softened as he adjusted you, gently shifting you so you were cradled in his arms, face resting against his chest.

“Shh, relax,” he murmured softly, smoothing your hair back, his fingers warm against your damp skin. “I’ve got you.”

You let out a shaky breath, too tired to protest, your body aching but not in a way that was uncomfortable. His hands slid down your back, soothing you, rubbing your skin as his lips pressed soft kisses against your forehead.

“Good job,” he whispered, pressing another kiss to the tip of your nose. “You did so good, baby.”

You melted into him, too tired to even respond, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t need words right now. His lips kept brushing over your face—your cheeks, your lips, your eyes—each kiss a soft reminder of how he had pushed you and then taken care of you afterward.

“Still feeling good?” he asked, voice low and warm.

You nodded softly, your body still trembling, but there was a new comfort in his presence. His gentle kisses, the warmth of his body, the way he softly ran his fingers along your spine—it was like the chaotic energy of everything before was being replaced by this slow, tender care.

He shifted beneath you, adjusting his position so you were more comfortably on top of him, not needing to move but cradled close in his arms. His cock was still inside you, softening slightly, but he didn’t rush to pull away. He just let you rest, letting you feel his warmth, as if nothing else mattered but making sure you were okay.

“Let’s just stay like this,” he said quietly, kissing your forehead once more. “No rush. You deserve to rest.”

You let your eyes flutter closed, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear, his presence grounding you, wrapping you in a sense of safety and care.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, pressing another soft kiss to your lips.

You smiled faintly against his skin, finally letting yourself feel the warmth of his affection.

[girldeadsworld]

First date

Spencer x reader

pov; Spencer asks reader out on a date (ft.derek teasing pretty boy)

warnings:none just fluff, nothing special

Masterlist

The BAU bullpen buzzed quietly with the hum of fluorescent lights and the rhythmic clack of keys against keyboards. You sat cross-legged in a chair near Spencer's desk, flipping through a novel while he scribbled furiously in a notebook, curls falling into his eyes.

"What are you writing?" you asked, tilting your head, your voice laced with playful curiosity.

Spencer glanced up, cheeks flushing. "Just... notes," he said, tapping his pen against his lip. "I read an article this morning about quantum entanglement, and I wanted to map out the theories."

You leaned in slightly, resting your chin in your hand. "Smart and handsome. Is there anything you can't do, Dr. Reid?"

He gave a nervous laugh, dropping his gaze to his notebook. "I—um, I can’t whistle."

Before you could respond, Derek Morgan appeared, leaning casually against Spencer's desk with a wide grin.

"Pretty boy, why's your face red?" Derek teased, with his usual playful smirk.

Spencer rubbed the back of his neck, shooting Derek a death stare

Derek chuckled, throwing his hands up. "Hey, I’m just saying — if you blush any harder, Hotch is gonna think you’ve got a fever."

You bit back a laugh, reaching over to straighten Spencer's tie, your fingers brushing against his chest. "I think it’s cute," you whispered, and Spencer nearly dropped his pen.

"Do you want to grab coffee later?" he blurted out, voice barely above a whisper.

You raised a brow, lips curling into a smirk. "Are you asking me on a date, Dr. Reid?"

He chuckled, pushing his hair out of his face. "I mean... if you wanted it to be one, I wouldn’t mind."

Derek snorted. "Smooth."

Your heart practically leapt out of your chest. You stood, walking over to him, and carefully plucked the pen from his hand. Leaning down, you whispered, "I’d love to go on a date with you," right against his ear, your breath warm against his skin.

Spencer froze, blinking rapidly as his face turned an even deeper shade of pink, and Derek tried to supress his laugh.

From across the room, Derek called out, "You better not forget to tell me how it goes, lover boy!"

For the rest of the day, Spencer's smile didn’t fade the only thing occupying his mind was the thought of your warm breath against his cheek.

My first fanfic, dont judge too much. Plz request. Your wish my comand xoxo

[toxic3mmy]

Karl leaves some gummies that are aphrodisiacs, Quackity who passes by sees them and eats almost all of them, then the aphrodisiacs take effect and he goes home to solve his problem but you are right at his house 🤭🤭

prompt: alex eats special gummies

okayokayokay, this one was interesting to write… sorry if it’s too short!

alex was visiting a few of his friends at karl’s house. afterwards, you were supposed to meet him at his house and discuss his plans for his next big stream, as he decided that he wanted you in it.

unbeknownst to you,

alex was feeling a little bit peckish. as his friends chatted and laughed about random stuff, he asked karl,

“hey man, is it okay if i get a glass of water?”

to which karl scolded him for even asking, as alexis was obviously welcome to do practically anything at karl’s house.

and so he went to the kitchen and got a glass of water but then went to the food pantry to find what he was actually there for.

as he scoured through the pantry, he found a small bag of sour gummies. he proceeded to open the bag and frowned when he saw there was only one inside. he decided to eat it and look for any other of the same candy.

he had to dig through a few shelves when he finally found a fancy looking box full of similar heart shaped sour gummies. the front had some words in a different language. alex shrugged and ate one. then two… then a few more.

when his tummy was satisfied, he put the gummies back and returned to his friends in the next room.

after about 30 minutes or so, alex started to feel a little funny and so he decided to say goodbye and make his way home.

“oh fuck oh fuck… what the fuck is going on?” he said to himself as he paced his bathroom, hoping that he was just nauseous and needed to vomit

nothing came out… but something definitely came up.

he was hard… like rock hard.

he was as hard as he was when he ate a sex drive enhancement pill on a dare a few years back.

he needed relief from the building tension down below. he decided to go to his room and open his phone to pornhub.

he found a really pretty girl who just so happened to look similar to you.

he laid back in bed and undid his jeans, slowly taking his hard cock out. he started to rub himself, whimpering at the friction.

he bit his lip as he tried to concentrate and get off, his movements quickened to the sounds of the girl on the video.

he stopped as he realized that he wanted, no, needed more. this wasn’t enough.

a knock at his front door steered his focus away from what he was doing

shit… y/n was here

he completely forgot that you were coming over. he got himself dressed again and opened the door a sliver to see you

“hey! i brought you some coffee!” you said, holding two cups of iced coffee

“um.. actually, im not feeling well… can we rain check this for another day?” alex said, faking a cough

your face furrowed in worry

“what’s wrong? here, let me in so i can take care of you” you said

“n-no! … i mean um, im really gross right now and throwing up everywhere. i dont want to get you sick too” he said quickly

you shook your head and laughed softly, pushing the door open and moving past alex

“nonsense! i’ll make you that soup you love. it’ll fix you right up” you replied

alex was silent. you turned to look at him and saw that he had his hands obviously hiding his crotch

“do you have to pee or something? come sit down so i can get a better look at you” you gently lead him to his couch and he didn’t dare look your way at all. now you were really starting to worry

“alex? what’s wrong?” you asked and he shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes

“alex, please talk to me” you practically pleaded

“it’s so s-stupid… please don’t make me say it, it’s embarrassing” he said through sniffles

“oh lexie, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. i’m your friend, okay? i promise i won’t judge you. i just want to make sure you’re okay.” you reassured him

“fine… i was at karl’s and i got hungry. so i ate these stupid fucking gummies and they’re… they’re for… they make you horny! and i don’t even know how many i ate and this stupid god damn raging boner won’t go away!” he put his head down and cried softly from being overwhelmed

after deep thought, you pulled him up from the couch and started leading him to his bedroom

“let’s lay you down, okay?” you said and alex nodded softly

as you laid him down, he sighed and closed his eyes. this was the perfect moment.

you started by pulling off his beanie and you ruffled his hair. you then began to take his sweatpants off and he suddenly opened his eyes

“y/n? w-what—“

“shh, just let me take care of you”

his bulge was visible now. his dick was tucked underneath the waistband of his boxers with his leaking head peaking out. you crawled on top of him and helped him take off his shirt. your mouth immediately went to his neck, leaving wet open mouth kisses. you trailed down lower and attached your lips to one of his nipples.

alex whimpered and bucked his hips up at the sensation of your tongue circling around his sensitive nubs. you sucked and bit his skin, trailing down lower and lower.

as you were right underneath his bellybutton, you looked up at him as if asking for permission

“please y/n… please do something… i can’t take it anymore” he whined, tangling his fingers in your hair

you licked up his prominent shaft through his boxers and he was crying again, this time not from embarrassment but from pleasure. you laughed softly and released his member from his boxers, sliding the article of clothing off his body and onto the floor somewhere.

you took his long dick in your small hand and began to pump him at a slow pace, making sure to lick up all the precum from his tip.

“oh fuck! yes! m-more!”

“i barely did anything” you laughed, going back to running your tongue on his tip

“it’s just so good” he grunted as he bucked into your face

“get on your knees” he said suddenly and you quickly got down from the bed and onto your knees

you looked up at him as you fully engulfed him into your mouth. alex threw his head back and started to slowly find a pace in which he thrusted himself deeper into your throat

what you couldn’t fit into your mouth, your hands took care of expertly

“god—yes! y/n, you have such a pretty little dirty fucking mouth—ah!” he held your head with both hands now, forcing himself down your throat until you couldn’t breathe

your eyes were watery, causing your makeup to run, and you were gagging like crazy around his cock but you couldn’t care less, he sounded too good to stop

“stand up and bend over the bed” he growled and you did exactly that

he was behind you now, rubbing his tip between your slippery wet lips. you mewled as he rubbed against your clit with his cock, loving the feeling

“please just put it in! g-give it to me lexie, please!” now you were the one whining

as he entered your warm slick cunt, he gathered your hair in one hand and pulled your head back to reveal your neck. he kissed and sucked the skin right underneath your ear and left little dark colored bruised from sucking so hard

“bet you’ve imagined this huh? me burying my cock deep inside of you?” he asked and all you could do was moan out his name

“i’ve fantasized about exactly this. bending you over my bed, taking all of you. fuck.. you’re so fucking tight! joder, mami, you really know how to take it, don’t you?” he said as he sped his pace up, his balls smacking against your plump ass

“you feel s-so good… nghh!” you whimpered out

you were pushing yourself backwards onto his cock, meeting his thrusts

“i don’t think i— im close alex! ‘m so c-close!” you cried out, throwing your head down into the mattress to muffle your screams

“yeah baby? so soon? aw, c’mon, i know you can last longer hm, chiquita?” he purred and still sped up, giving your ass a loud smack

a few more thrusts and you came with a shout of his name. as you came down from your high, your body shuddered with complete pleasure. after catching your breath, you sunk down to your knees in front of him once again

he grabbed your chin forcefully and said in a gruff voice, “open up, sweetheart”

you did as he ordered and he laid his swollen tip on your tongue as his hand pumped himself quickly

your mouth was wide open and you were whimpering with anticipation for his cum

alex was moaning louder than before and finally, he came in short spurts on your tongue and down your chin

he caught his breath and took you to his bed. the two of you laid down, you on his chest comfortably and completely fucked out.

“are you… are you still hard, alexis?” you asked with genuine surprise

“yeah” he laughed

“round two?” you offered in an innocent voice and he laughed even more

“si mi amor, just give me a sec” and he held you tightly to his body

[everymeowandthen]

haiii i read on one if ur post where reader is n d that ur willing to write for any bllk character but i was wondering if u could write n d or autistic nagi (u can pick!) x reader where he gets judged but reader is always there for him and comforts him when he’s overwhelmed or overstimulated and i really liked the autistic rin post!! its was so cute but i love how u decided to write about it and make people feel seen :b

hehehe i was waiting for a nagi request ( ｀▽´ )Ψ i love this!! and thank u sm anon, i love when people compliment my writing

nagi was tired.

not in the “i didn’t sleep” kind of way. more like, existing is annoying kind of way. practice was loud, the lights too bright, and the coach kept yelling about “drive” and “effort” like that would magically make nagi care more.

he didn’t.

“he’s so talented, but he doesn’t even try,” someone muttered, clearly loud enough for him to hear.

nagi didn’t react. just flopped onto the bench and pulled his hoodie over his face, letting gravity do the rest. people always thought he was lazy, or that he didn’t care. and yeah, they weren’t exactly wrong. but no one ever stopped to think why.

he was overstimulated. his body felt heavy. his thoughts were sticky, slow. everything just felt like too much effort all the time.

except you.

you sat next to him without saying anything, the way you always did when he got like this. didn’t try to motivate him, didn’t tell him to “push through it” or “get serious.” you just leaned your shoulder into his.

he didn’t move. didn’t say anything. but he didn’t pull away either.

after a long pause, you glanced over. “too loud?”

he gave a tiny grunt. maybe agreement. maybe just air leaving his lungs.

“wanna ditch?”

“mmm.” his voice was muffled under the hoodie. “can’t be bothered.”

“fair,” you said, leaning back with him. “we can just sit here then. do nothing. i’m good at that.”

he didn’t answer, but his arm shifted slightly until it was resting against yours, just barely. that was his version of saying thanks. or maybe “don’t leave.” hard to tell.

you stayed like that for a while. no words. just the quiet hum of the lights and the occasional shout from across the gym. but the noise didn’t feel as sharp with you sitting there. it took the edge off.

nagi’s breathing slowed a little, like the static in his brain was finally dialing down. he didn’t feel better, not really—but he felt less worse. and that was good enough.

eventually, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a wrapped snack. held it up. “bribery?”

his hand moved sluggishly, like even reaching for it was a chore. “open it for me,” he mumbled.

you tore it open and handed it over. he took a bite without sitting up, crumbs falling onto his hoodie.

“you’re disgusting,” you said.

“yeah,” he said through a full mouth. “but you’re still here.”

you didn’t argue. just leaned your head against his shoulder and closed your eyes.

he didn’t smile. didn’t say anything else.

but he didn’t move either.

and that was enough.

i get scared everytime i post cus like... idk if the requesters will like the way i put it.. (˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥) well idk i liked writing this even though i made it kinda cheesy

© - @everymeowandthen : dont steal or copy!

[save-the-villainous-cat]

could you write something with the hero and villain fake dating? (you totallt dont have to if you dont want to or something I just wanted to ask cus I loveee the trope!)

"Kiss me," the villain said.

"No fucking way." A horrible blush started to spread over the hero's neck. The worst thing about this was that this had been their idea in the first place.

They were ashamed to admit it but when they had arrested the villain a few months ago, they had suggested to the judge a different kind of punishment. At the time, there wasn't much evidence of the villain's criminal activities, so the hero had thought it to be more practical if the villain had to work together with other heroes. As a kind of community service.

After all, the villain was smart when it came to these schemes.

However, for whatever reason, they had been paired together. The hero didn't quite know what to do with themselves now. Ever since the mission had started, their brain wasn't functioning at all. It was quite self-explanatory. The villain was incredibly attractive and they were joking around, seizing every opportunity to flirt with the hero.

The hero suspected it to be some scheme to throw them off their game. But they couldn't be sure.

"These guys over there have been eyeing us the entire evening. If you ask me, they're not buying our little act." The villain let their fingertips ghost over the hero's knuckles and the hero's heart started to throb. The hero didn't turn around to look at the suspicious people the villain had been talking about. Their mind was somewhere else entirely.

On this after show party, they were supposed to observe highly influential people for suspicious activity. An election was coming up and although the hero loathed politics, it was obviously the right thing to do. They weren't supposed to be the ones being observed.

Usually, the hero wasn't very fond of undercover work. They were a horrible liar and improvisation wasn't their strong suit either. For the last few days, the villain had saved them more than once from embarrassing slip-ups. It was quite pathetic.

"And you have been flirted with already," the villain said. Somehow, their voice sounded bitter.

"They were just being nice," the hero said. They shifted on their chair. If someone was indeed observing them, maybe kissing the villain was the right thing to do. God, the hero didn't have much experience and they feared they would make a fool out of themsleves once again.

The villain probably had a new lover every week or so.

"They wanted to buy you a drink."

"Ehh," the hero said. "It doesn't really matter, does it?"

"It's compromising the mission."

"Is that person who wanted to buy me a drink one of those guys who have been 'eyeing' us the entire evening?" the hero asked. They leaned over and took the villain's hand. Whenever they looked into the villain's eyes, their stupid heart skipped a beat but they tried to come closer, to appear more in love.

It was quite strange for them to display physical intimacy in public. They had never really considered themselves to be fit for relationships - work got in the way every single time but the villain brought enough casualness into the (fake) relationship to somewhat ease the hero's nerves.

The villain didn't answer their question, though.

"All I am trying to say is: when someone wants to buy you a drink, we don't look like a couple," the villain said. Their eyes dropped to the hero's lips and the hero leaned over, holding onto the villain's hand.

"Well, you could have come with me to the bar," the hero said. They shrugged and took a sip of their drink with a shaky hand the villain observed a little too long.

"I will keep that in mind." The villain followed the little veins on the hero's wrist of the hand that was holding onto them. The hero was so nervous they weren't sure if they had to cry or laugh.

"Okay, be honest. Is someone watching?" the hero asked. They managed to scoot over towards the villain.

The villain's eyes were still on the hero, observed every little move. To say the villain could be relentless was an understatement.

"They have the audacity to check you out." The villain's voice was low, even though their mouth formed a sweet smile. The hero hadn’t even realised how tight their grip was around the villain's hands. "Probably some disgusting perv. I can’t blame them, though. You look incredible."

The villain leaned in, touched the hero's forearm gently and immediately, the hero’s heart sped up.

"You have to be very careful or I will actually fall in-"

And then, the hero kissed them.

For whatever reason, they kissed them. They put their flat hand on the villain's neck and pulled them close until their lips met. Later, the hero would blame their own nervousness but truthfully, they didn't know exactly why they did it.

The hero considered themselves inexperienced - rightfully so - and heard their own heartbeat in their ears as the villain smiled against their lips. The hero felt clumsy and stupid; they didn't know exactly what they were doing. So, it was even more embarrassing when the villain put a hand on their thigh, squeezed softly and responded with slow kisses, forcing the hero to adapt.

Although the hero was painfully aware of their own nervousness, they were also calming down slowly. The villain was guiding them through it perfectly and they hated themselves for being in need of it.

Eventually, the hero pulled away and found it to be quite hard to look into the villain's eyes.

"Impressive," the villain murmured. Their smirk wasn't leaving their face.

"Sorry, I- uh-"

"Don't apologise."

"Oh, yes, uh..." The villain leaned over once more until they could whisper into the hero's ear.

"You did so well, don't you know that?"

"Are - are they still watching us?"

"No, my love." The villain gave the hero a peck on their temple. "How do you feel?"

"Nervous," they admitted.

"You're not really a fan of being undercover, are you?" The villain took their hand and the hero squeezed it, trying somehow to stop their hands from shaking.

"It's my least favourite thing about this job," the hero said. They took in a deep breath and tried to gather their thoughts.

The villain could be so sweet - the reassurance and the gentleness were so foreign to the hero that it scared them. Most of the time, their job was focused on performance and results. There wasn't much space for emotions. They weren't used to someone praising them.

"Don't worry, you are amazing at this," the villain purred. "If it's too much for you, we can always leave."

"But the mission..."

"Well, if you want my honest opinion: I couldn't care less about it. I am just enjoying my time with you."

The hero had to chuckle.

"You are terrible."

"It's your call. I can take the blame if your boss gives you an earful."

"Really?"

"Really."

Once they were back in their hotel room, the hero dared to sleep in the bed with the villain next to them and awoke unsurprisingly in their arms in the morning.

[sunnihope]

Could you tell us your interpretation of Kryptos and his relationship with Bill please!! Your amazing art has made me super curious!!

OH BOY- I have a lot to say about their relationship and how I interpret it

MINOR BOOK OF BILL SPOILERS AHEAD!

Okay! Kryptos only has one line in the show and s single entry in the book of Bill. HOWEVER, the book offers insight into what Krpytos does for Bill, that is: ghost writing Bill's riddles

Call it copium, whatever, but to me this is an extremely big characteristic considering Bill practically speaks in riddles and codes. It doesn't help that in the concept art for Kryptos, he's referred to as the "illuminatis compass".

This right here is what I base their entire relationship on. Basically Bill is the one who takes the reins of everything, while Kryptos sits behind the scenes and judges bill tells bill what might and might not be the best ideas. Bill, of course, doesn't listen to him, but he does keep whatever Kryptos in mind. They often fight and butt heads, but ultimately, they still remain friends and deal with eachothers nonsense. Kryptos is Bill's punching bag, but Kryptos is quick to bite back if he wants :]

I had actually written Kryptos' relationship with Bill and forgot abt it until just now 💀 (this was before the book of bill came out. The books release still doesn't change how I view their relationship)

Lots of my comics that I draw reflect how I view their relationship. I like the HC that Bill and Kryptos are both from the 2nd dimension, and have created my own hc to help better fit in with the events of the book! UGH I LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH YOU DONT EVEN KNOW 💔💔

Some doodles that might help (I'm terrible at words LMFAO)

[staarb0y]

Make it up to me

pairings: nick sturniolo x male reader

warnings: smut, swearing, bj

summary: y/n falls asleep while watching a movie with nick again so he makes it up to him

a/n: this is my first time writing smut so please dont judge and im sorry if its bad 😭

You wake up laying in nicks lap. "Did I fall asleep again?" You say, looking up at Nick.

"Yeah you did baby. The movies over and Chris and Matt already went to bed." He looks down at you.

"Oh I'm sorry," you say, sitting up next to him groggy and tired, and probably still half asleep.

"It's ok, you can come make it up to me. Let's go to bed my boy", he says, getting up off the couch and grabbing your hand.

You follow him down the hall and into his room. You crawl into bed with him and cuddle up next to him, laying on his chest.

"Come here", he says with a groan, bringing your head up to his.

Before you can even process what's happening you're kissing him. It starts to get heated as he grabs your ass, making you let out a soft moan. He catches you by surprise when he slips his tongue into your mouth, but you keep going.

"You're lips are so soft my love," he says before pulling you back in.

Your tongues are practically wrestling while he gropes you. You pull off his lips and move down to his neck, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down to his abs. You look up at him for approval for what you're about to do as you grab his waistband.

"What, you wanna give me head that bad?"

"You said I could make it up to you dummy" you say, pulling down his pants.

You kiss the growing buldge in his boxers, mouthing at it. You look up to see Nick throwing his head back in pleasure. You pull down his boxers and take his dick into your mouth, sucking hard on his tip.

"Fuck y/n, you feel so damn good"

You slowly inch your mouth down his dick, lapping your tongue up and down his length. He grabs the back of your head, gripping your hair and pulling you all the way down his dick.

"Fuck baby"

You practically choke on his dick but keep sucking, swirling your tongue around his tip. Moans and whimpers spill out of his mouth, you quicken your pace moving up and down on his length.

"Fuck baby you're gonna make me cum" He moans out in between pants and cute little whimpers.

You pull off his dick, wrapping your hand around it and slowly stroking.

"No please y/n, I need to cum so bad"

You look up at him, "What if I wanna edge you a bit first?"

"Fuck y/n" He throws his head back. You slowly start to stroke him again, moving your hand up and down. He lets out more soft moans. You bring his dick back to your mouth, taking the tip in and sucking softly, making sure to use your tongue like he loves.

"Mmh y/n"

You look up to see him squirming, he tries to thrust up into your mouth, but you hold his hips down. You sink your mouth down past his tip halfway down his dick. You suck harder and quickly twist your tongue around him, making him moan out even louder. You move up and down faster, looking up at him while you suck on him. He looks down at you, locking eyes with you.

"Oh y/n you look so fucking hot like this"

"Yeah you like it pretty boy?"

He moans out while you suck him harder.

You pull off his dick, "Be quiet baby, we wouldn't want chris or matt to hear us right?"

He nods quickly, just wanting you back on his dick. You quickly put your mouth back on his length, taking him all the way down to the base. You suck fast and hard, wanting him to get close again. He lets out curses under his breath, in between soft pants and moans. You know he's getting close with the sounds he's making for you.

You pull off his dick, looking up at him. "No please y/n I'm so fucking close please please" he begs. You lock eyes with him, slowly stroking him while you lick his tip.

"Ah fuck please more I need you, please."

You keep stroking him, picking up speed while you slowly suck at his tip.

"More more please y/n"

"Make me"

He wastes no time grabbing the back of your head pushing you down on his dick. He thrusts into your mouth while moving your head up and down. You're not in any control anymore gagging on his dick while he fucks your mouth.

"Fuck I'm gonna come y/n"

He lets out a few moans before he cums hard down your throat, you swallow it quickly. He's whimpering and moaning as you suck the rest of the cum off his dick.

You pull off and look at him, he's laying there looking at you half lidded with a smirk. You pull his boxers and pyjama pants back up his waist.

"Did you like that baby?"

"So fucking much" he says, smiling at you.

You crawl back up to cuddle him, lying on his chest. He plays with your hair and you both drift off to sleep.

[saiintvalentiine]

Summary: Parrot and Wifies have a talk some time after the fallout of Parrot finding out Wifies is a clone. A follow up to Ken's POV in Part 1.

notes: this is once again not edited, this was the result of some quick writing last night and a wrap up today. it's more like practice for Parrot's voice which i think i did a shit job at but it's here and u can now judge me urself. enjoy. or dont idk. divider from here

word count: 2568. just slightly less than the previous installment.

11:49

Parrot has picked through his feathers so many times he thinks he’s developing a bald spot in his left wing. He's usually better at waiting, has patience for his plans to go through, but today there is no plan, just waiting. He stares at his comm, open in his hand as he rereads the chat over and over again.

[Wifies]: Would you be open to talking with me today?

[Parrotx2]: yes

[Parrotx2]: of course

[Parrotx2]: what’s up

[Wifies]: I was actually wondering if we could meet up.

[Parrotx2]: yeah wherever you want

[Wifies]: I’ll open up my world.

[Wifies]: How does noon sound?

[Parrotx2]: perfect

[Wifies]: I’ll send you the IP then.

[Parrotx2]: great!

Great! He sounds like a loser.

So Parrot is waiting for the clock to strike noon on his comm to go. Part of him wonders if he's going to spawn into a pit, or straight into lava, or in an escape room, something that would make Wifies feel better to watch him go through after the hell Parrot raised. Parrot would be fine with that. Honestly, he hopes Wifies is mad. He's only going to feel worse if he's met with Wifies’s carefully thought out words and blunt kindness.

11:54

He stops touching his wings. He's been trying to organize his thoughts so he doesn't say something incredibly stupid to Wifies again. There’s a script now.

I’m sorry for reacting so harshly, I was shocked and didn’t know how to process what I was hearing. I felt hurt because I thought you didn’t trust me with the truth, but now I see why you wanted to keep it to yourself. I should have never acted that way. You’re so important to me, and I should have thought about all the trust between us. I always trust you.

11:55

It’s simple, but it’s straightforward, and he wants to be as clear as possible. He also wants to be sincere, but sincerity is scary. His sincerity is blue, bruised, gushes forward like an open wound and stains the world in his blood.

11:56

But he can do sincerity. He can do it for Wifies. He could probably do a lot for Wifies, but Wifies never asks for anything. He didn’t even ask to be freed from the chunkban. He just waited. Trusted Parrot, and waited for Parrot, and was happy to see Parrot after everything. Wifies is always trusting and waiting and happy.

11:57

And Parrot ruined it for what? Catharsis for his fears? A moment to let that horrible feeling of being second, third, fourth in someone's life tear through everything he’s done? Is that even the reason why?

11:58

God. When Wifies starts asking questions, Parrot is going to crumble like a house of cards. It'll be Parrot's unjust luck to be forgiven.

[Wifies]: IP XXXXXXXXXX

Parrot jolts and almost drops his comm. He scrambles to copy the IP down and flick through his comm settings. He pastes it into the server IP box and hovers over the connect button.

12:00

He clicks connect.

Landing softly onto a carpet of podzol in a chilly spruce forest, Parrot lets out a plume of ashen breath. There are a few cabins in a semicircle in front of him, warm light spilling out of each window and from the branches of the towering spruce trees. The afternoon sun barely breaches the canopy, but it speckles the ground just enough to give the world a surreal atmosphere.

There's a campfire pit to one side surrounded by log benches, and there sits Wifies. He looks brilliant in the firelight, dark hair loose without his headband and violet eyes muted.

“Parrot,” Wifies calls out as he stands up. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Parrot says lamely, hesitating for a moment before making his way over to Wifies. The campfire warms him up, but the chill doesn't go away. “How are you?”

“It’s going to rain soon, so I’m feeling it in my joints,” Wifies says, lighthearted as he rubs one of his shoulders. “Sit with me.”

So Parrot does. He’s not in the business of denying Wifies much of anything. He sits on one end of the log bench, and Wifies sits two feet away, turned towards Parrot, and Parrot looks at him, and his mind just— it blanks. His script dissolves like salt in the sea.

“I wanted to start with saying that I am a clone of the original Wifies,” Wifies says, giving Parrot space to try and reboot his brain. “He was. . . making clones for the sake of content, and I was the most successful one. I never knew. And one day, Ken showed up to what I thought was my single player world, and. . . it’s a very long story, but he got me out of there and we, um, we killed the original. He. . . wasn’t going to let me just leave. And those are the main points of my story. I just wanted you to know the important bits before we talk further.”

“Clones for content,” Parrot echoes, eyebrows scrunching up. “Clones for content? He was— what?”

“Making clones to put them into escape rooms for quick video production.”

“The— what the fuck?”

Wifies smiles awkwardly, but doesn’t speak again. He keeps rubbing his shoulder over and over, self soothing maybe, or maybe it’s just that painful from the onset of the rain.

“I'm sorry for how I acted. I don’t care that you’re a clone,” Parrot says, flinching at his own sharpness. He looks away and into the crackling fire. “I care about you. The clone stuff is— is whatever. Or not whatever, I’ll care about it as much as you want me to care about it.”

“Parrot, don’t make me promises you know you can’t keep.”

Wifies’s voice is gentle. It is so, so gentle, with no hint of disappointment or scolding. Parrot’s stomach churns. He wishes again for Wifies’s anger, pointed and cold, instead of this. Anger is easy. This stings like salt in a wound.

“Why do you think I can’t keep to that?”

“Not knowing drives you crazy.”

“You not being there has driven me more crazy.”

“Until you forget, and it starts bothering you again.”

Parrot deserves it, but his heart is heavy and he feels like he’s been shot right through it. Wifies isn’t even being cruel, just honest; he’s right, eventually it will drive Parrot crazy to not be able to talk about the whole situation, to understand Wifies better by prying into his life.

“I don’t like talking about it. It was a bad time for me. I also don’t know everything about. . . myself. About what you’ll eventually ask.”

Parrot has to physically bite his tongue. Wifies doesn't know everything. What if he gets sick? Or badly hurt? What if he starts feeling like something is wrong, and there's nothing to be done for it, because nobody knows? What if—

“This is why I never want to tell anyone,” Wifies sighs out, curling in on himself in the corner of Parrot’s eyes. “If nothing else, just promise me you won't tell anyone?”

“Never,” Parrot says firmly. That's a promise he can keep. “I would never.”

“Thank you, Parrot.”

Their conversation tapers off. The sunlight is disappearing little by little, the promised rain clouds rolling in from far away, far above. Parrot’s feathers puff up a bit at a slight, churning breeze that cuts through the forest.

“I'm sorry, for what it's worth. For lying this whole time.”

“I see why you did. I just ended up proving why lying was the right choice. Nothing to be sorry about.”

“It's funny,” Wifies says in a voice that promises to be anything but funny. “When I'm scared, everything hurts again. I can never remember how they got here, but all the little pains come back again, like the reminder of fear should pull a memory or two up. But there's nothing. I don't remember how I hurt my shoulder this badly. I don't remember how it got fixed. All I remember is that it’s hurt forever. I don't remember a life without pain, and when this all came to light, my reality went from a life where pain existed to a life that was lived with pain.”

Rain begins to dribble through the leaves around them. The campfire hisses and sparks but doesn't extinguish, too large and hot to be daunted by such a pathetic display. The canopy is too dense for the rain to punch through in earnest.

“What are you scared of?” Parrot forces himself to ask. Please don't be afraid of me.

“Losing another part of my life to this. I can never seem to escape the factory. What a lousy escapist I've become, huh?”

Wifies pulls his feet up into the log, resting his chin on his knee and watching the fire. Parrot doesn't remember turning towards him, but he inches closer. The space between them is too large. His hand is too far from Wifies’s own.

“You don't have to lose anything,” Parrot says. “There's nothing to be lost. You can always come back to the server. Nobody there will ever know except for Ken.”

“No matter how this plays out, I lose you.”

“I'm right here. I'm right next to you, right now, what do you mean?”

Parrot feels pathetic, but he doesn't care. Wifies won't look at him, is talking about losing him like Parrot isn't about to crawl out of his skin just so Wifies won't leave him again. The rain thickens the air around them with the promise of more force, and Parrot stretches a wing over Wifies’s head without a single thought.

“You'll always think about the fact I'm a clone. I lost my status of human. I lost our relationship. It took so long for me to feel normal, and now it's all gone.”

“Wifies, look at me please.”

Wifies does. He does, because he still cares, and Parrot is going to be sick at the resigned look in Wifies’s eyes. Parrot is close enough now, so he reaches out and holds Wifies’s face in both hands. He can feel the way Wifies’s jaw works, the thrum of his slow heartbeat in his throat, the way his breathing is shallow and quick. His eyes are a little glassy, a little red, and Parrot adds another wretched tally to the list of times he's made Wifies cry.

“No matter what, you are human, okay? To me, and to Ken, and I'm sure to whoever you were talking to that day as well. Don't ever doubt that.”

Wifies’s expression softens and he just barely nods, which is a small relief for Parrot.

“All I ever think about when you're gone is when you're coming back,” Parrot says. His sincerity bleeds, red and blue smudged across each word. He’ll bleed for them, every drop if that’s what it takes. “And all I've been thinking about this whole time is how I'm going to make it up to you. How I really, really want to do whatever it takes for you to stay. I want you to stay. And not a single one of those thoughts had anything to do with whether you're a clone or not.”

Wifies breathes in. It shakes something horrible. Parrot will crawl his way back into being trusted until he has no more body to move with.

“All of those thoughts had to do with how you've always been with me. Funny, kind, snarky, quick, the only person in this world I've ever been able to close my eyes next to knowing that I've got everything I need right there. That the only way I'll ever be apart from you is by being torn. And none of that, none of it, has changed. I still think all that about you. All that's been added is that I'm an asshole who definitely doesn't deserve your loyalty, but I'm too greedy to let it go so easily.”

That makes Wifies giggle, the sound wet and cracking. Parrot presses the pads of his thumbs under Wifies's eyes. If he's going to make Wifies cry, the least he can do is clean it up too.

“The only thing I ever need you to do is believe in me,” Parrot says, pressing his lips to Wifies’s forehead. It's easier somehow to speak like this, wetness pooling against Parrot’s fingers. “Believe that I love you so much. Believe that I'm going to make this right between us. Believe that learning this has done nothing to change how I feel about you. And if you can't, please believe in me anyway.”

“Of course I believe in you Parrot,” Wifies murmurs, voice crackling. “Why else would I follow you everywhere?”

“I'm that persuasive?”

“Hardly.”

“Hey, not even a little?”

Wifies laughs. It’s a sweet sound. When Parrot pulls back to look, Wifies has his eyes closed, and he’s not quite smiling, but he’s not frowning either, which is a win. 

“You’re determined and direct,” Wifies says, letting the full weight of his head loll into Parrot’s hands. Parrot raises his other wing so they're encompassed by green and red and blue. “Which is what made me agree to help you at first. But then. . . I don’t know. You can be charming when you want to be. Not often, but on occasion.”

Parrot squawks indignantly just to hear Wifies laugh again. Wifies blinks his eyes open, and Parrot wipes away a stray tear.

“Do you know how touchy you are?” Wifies asks suddenly.

“Should I let go?”

“No, I just wonder if you know that. When you were upset, you made a real effort to not reach out. That’s how I knew it was serious.”

“Well, now you know it’s not serious.”

“Mm, this is serious too in its own way. You’re serious that you want me to stay.”

Parrot lifts Wifies’s head so that they’re eye to eye, bloodshot violet to his own green-blue blur, and says, “Deadly serious. I don’t want to be separated like this again. Knowing I had hurt you and couldn’t make it better? The absolute worst time of my life, I think.”

“It sucked,” Wifies agrees, finally cracking a smile. “It’s over now though. I think.”

“Of course it's over now, you're never allowed to leave me like that again,” Parrot scolds him entirely lighthearted and Wifies snorts.

“Don't yell at me again and I won't.”

“I won't, I'm sorry for yelling.”

Wifies laughs again, and despite the fact he's clearly reveling in having Parrot wrapped around his finger like this, Parrot can't even pretend to be annoyed. Wifies won't leave him again. It's all that matters right now. Any question or doubt dies a quiet death when Wifies reaches up to hold both of Parrot’s wrists in a loose grip.

“This is weirdly nice,” Wifies says, closing his eyes again. “I don't think anyone's ever touched my face so gently. I can't remember the feeling.”

“You just say when,” Parrot replies.

He's not being entirely selfless here— there's something soothing about running the pads of his thumbs over Wifies’s skin, like a promise that this moment is as real as when he left. Wifies can't leave him when they're like this, tangled up under Parrot’s wings under the rain.

“Then for just a bit longer,” Wifies says, and Parrot agrees. Just a bit longer.

[cupidjyu]

the sweetener you are

hyunjae x reader (idea from the anon who requested childhood friends to lovers!)

summary: when a mysterious man moves into the apartment next door, you realize that he’s your childhood best friend who’s disappeared for years. he changed, his life seeming to have soured. but you could just be his sweetener, the one to make him smile again

genre: best friends to lovers, and boy-next-door sorta thing, hurt/comfort for him because he deserves the world, nightmares, healing, one bed trope, youre forced to move in with him hahaha am i evil, back hugs, he acts "drunk" when tired (dont ask why, it was just an excuse to write him being clingy), hes flirty ish and teasing, hes shirtless for like one second (BECAUSE.), sleepy love confessions, kissing, is there tension? i can't tell myself, “sweetheart” good god notes: school started so expect much much less after this... so see you in a bit 🥲🥲but hope u enjoy!!! this is literally just yumi who needs to stop writing long interpretations of their love for hyunjae in the form of fics + song inspo! word count: 12.7k

You coughed. You choked. And then you glared straight at Younghoon who was staring back in complete alarm. Setting the unfinished glass down on the counter with a loud clink, you clenched your jaw with unspoken curse words that threatened to escape your lips.

“This tastes like dirt,” You garbled out. Rushing over to one of your cupboards, you pulled out one of those small sugar packets that you liked to swipe from those cute coffee shops. If it was free, why not take a few? Ripping the paper open, you poured it into the drink that didn’t even look like it belonged on this planet. It was both… green and yellowish-blue at the same time.

Younghoon gasped, slapping a hand over his mouth dramatically. “That’s not healthy!”

“But it tastes so bad,” You whined. “It needs a sweetener.”

He glared, dragging his hand all the way down his jaw in an unattractive way. “It’s an herbal drink. It’s meant to taste bad. Think of all the health benefits you could’ve gotten out of that without the sugar.”

“You made this?” You scrunched up your face in disgust.

“No, I–” He laughed nervously. “My mom did. I promised her I would finish it.”

You narrowed your eyes. “And you couldn’t because it tasted so bad. So you’re making me finish it.”

He gave you a pained smile as he stepped away. “I– who said that?”

“Why’re we even friends?” You questioned before jabbing a finger at the door. “Get out.”

Younghoon pouted but he eventually obliged, opening the apartment door. “You still owe me money for that overpriced tiny piece of cake by the way.”

“It tasted good!” You shot back.

“It did not.” He sighed. “It’s just you with your horrible sweet tooth. Don’t even– hey…” You noticed him peeking out of your door and into the hallway. And then he leaned back in, searching your face with wonder. “Someone’s moving in next door.”

You brightened with interest at that, practically jumping off where you were sitting on the kitchen counter. Bounding over to the door, you poked your head out under Younghoon’s, just like they did in the cartoons. Squinting your eyes, all you could see was a tall man with a cap on that covered most of his face. 

“Who’s that?” Younghoon said, slightly too loud for your liking.

With a groan, you elbowed him in the ribs. “Shh…how would I know? Though... he does look better than that old dude who constantly yelled at those courtroom TV shows like he was the judge.” It was like the apartment next to yours was cursed. Magic wasn’t real here. Or at least, in this world. But you still believed that a witch had strolled by and casually placed a hex on Apt 245 for the fun of it. For the time that you’ve been here, you’ve seen about five people move in there. And they were never happy. 

Once, there were two parents who had to deal with multiple children who would not stop crying. You hadn’t slept a wink the whole time they were there. They did receive a noise complaint though. Another time, there was a teenager who couldn’t even properly pay off the rent. He didn’t have a job. But he could somehow afford the loudest speaker where he would play the most gut-wrenching, saddest music ever. He got evicted.

But this man… well–he looked decent. Really. No evident curse here. Or at least, yet. When he turned around, you could see that he was very tall and… broad. Apparently, that was the first thing you noticed. He also seemed to pick up the moving boxes with ease and when he had stepped just the slightest to the side, you could see the impossibly perfect slope of his nose. Also a very odd thing to notice.

Younghoon grasped your arm, pulling you back into your own apartment.

“Don’t fall in love.”

You gaped at him. “What? I don’t even know who he is.”

He raised an eyebrow. “But he’s tall. And broad. And has a nice nose. I know you. I know your type.”

Shit.

“You do know me,” You mumbled sheepishly. “But still!” You poked him harshly. “I won’t fall in love. I probably won’t even see him for like– a month. Or he’s going to be cursed and moved out like the others. Don’t worry.”

Your friend narrowed his eyes in skepticism but he eventually nodded. “As long as you don’t bump into him tomorrow or something.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Of course. I won’t fall in love.”

You didn’t fall in love. You fell onto the floor.

And you also happened to bump into him the next day ironically enough.

If only—if only—you decided to pick up your mail yesterday like you were supposed to, this wouldn’t have happened. And by this, you meant being distracted by a cup that rolled out of your new neighbor’s door and then walking straight into his chest. 

You squeaked in horror. “I’m sorry!” And then you stepped backwards, tripped on your badly-timed untied shoelace, and ended up on the floor in the middle of the hallway.

When you looked up, there was a pretty hand that reached out to help you up. Taking it with burning cheeks, you could finally see what this man looked like up close and without a cap.

And you would have expected maybe one of those boy-next-door romantic moments where you would fall into his arms and start dating the next day. Oh, and also kiss and eventually get married. But no, you—

“Hyunjae?”

The man—Hyunjae—gaped at you with comically wide eyes. 

“Y/n,” He breathed out.

As long-lost childhood friends, the most sensible thing to do was ask how he was. But you often defied expectations, positively or negatively, and so instead you lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a tight hug.

Hyunjae, whom you’ve known since you were just young kids, has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. He used to be on the elementary school track team while you… were on the bleachers trying to tell the difference between subtraction and addition. But luckily, Hyunjae was both a smart and kind kid and so he had stopped in the middle of his running to sit with you and teach what your teacher couldn’t do properly.

He was always one year older, always more mature and experienced. But he tended to throw that away just for you and join in on playing games with you when he should’ve been studying for an exam. But he did so to cheer you up. He was sweet like that and you adored spending your afternoons after school with him.

The two of you even got to experience those dreadful high school years together, except there was always that haunting realization—that he would eventually graduate first. But he always reassured you.

“It’s just one year, silly,” He joked, pulling you into a side hug, one that perfectly portrayed his understanding of your worries. “I’ll text and call you all the time. Promise.”

Promises were often broken and this wasn’t any different. For when he had left for college, he never contacted you ever again. You had tried to reach out, but he never responded. And so, for your whole college term, you never saw Lee Hyunjae, your supposed “best friend,” ever again.

And you should have been mad—no, furious to see him again. You should have pushed him away and went on with your life while skillfully avoiding him. But just the simple sight of him brought back all those fond memories–baking cupcakes, falling asleep together just after screaming over a horror movie, holding each other when life just gets too much... And so you found yourself buried into his chest, holding him tightly.

“Hyunjae,” You whispered again, shutting your eyes in both contentment and fear of him pushing you away again. 

But you felt two hands snake around your middle, hugging you back. There were a million questions running through your mind at that moment, wondering why he had disappeared but welcomed you so easily. But you set them aside, choosing to just melt into his still familiar embrace.

Finally though, you managed to pull away, looking at him with a fond smile. He smiled back. He had grown even more handsome than before. He managed to become taller, broader, and more charming all at once. His features were sharp, more mature. Something about him–the way he was dressed in a literal suit–really portrayed to you that he really was an adult now, as opposed to the teenager who procrastinated on science projects.

“How are you?” He smiled, almost too polite for your liking. You could see the way he stood, awkwardly and with fidgeting hands. And that was when it all hit you like a truck.

Your eyebrows suddenly furrowed, your lips pulled into a scowl, and your eyes narrowed as you stepped forward. “How am I? No. How could you–” You banged a fist on his firm chest. “–leave me–” Another punch. “–like that–” He stepped back in growing alarm. “–and act all polite and uneasy as if we weren’t best friends for years?” Both of your fists lingered on his chest, your strength growing weak from frustration. 

“Y/n, I–” He winced.

“Actually, I hate you.” You glared. But your words differentiated from your actions when your hand came to smooth down his crumpled tie. “I don’t want to see you ever again. You’re an absolute asshole and I–” But your eyes met with his, his gaze amused and soft. And then you sniffled, looking down at the ground, the urge to cry suddenly overcoming you.

Hyunjae laughed quietly. “I’m sorry. If you would allow me to explain?”

“Great,” You grumbled. “Then do so. Since you’ve owed me an explanation after all these years.”

He glanced at his watch. “I have work. Tomorrow, maybe? Trust me.”

You looked at him in bewilderment. “Work? But you haven’t even unpacked yet.” You eyed his apartment with the door open. There were multiple boxes strewn about, some not even open yet.

“Emergencies,” He sighed. That was when you noticed just how exhausted he looked. “I have to go.”

“Oh,” You stuttered. “Okay. I– good luck?”

Hyunjae smiled, pinching your cheek just like he had done all those years ago. He seemed to be completely unfazed over the fact that you just punched him in anger. “Thank you.” And he was locking the door behind him and heading for the elevator. But just as he was walking away, you felt the need to call something out. Just a few words.

“Hyunjae?” You said.

He turned around, tilting his head. You never knew just how well work attire suited him. He looked almost… attractive. But god, what were you thinking?

“I missed you.”

He smiled but he never quite gave you a response as the elevator ding had interrupted him. Instead, he just gave you a small wave. 

It was odd. Awkward. But one step at a time, you figured. It’s been years after all.

The next day, as promised, he had shown up to your door. This time, since it was the weekend, he was wearing a simple white shirt. One that still never failed to accentuate his broad shoulders.

But initially, you thought it was Younghoon and not a guy who you haven’t seen for multiple years. So you may or may not have opened the door with your hair like a bird’s nest and your sleepwear on that… wasn’t meant for the general public to see. Apparently, Hyunjae fits in the general public category now. Best friend? No, you hate him.

Kind of.

Not really.

Stumbling to the door, you flung it open, your eyes barely open. Immediately, you were met with the sight of just. Long legs. Not very helpful.

“Who–” And then you looked up, only to meet Hyunjae’s eyes. Choking on your spit, you straightened up. “Hello,” You blurted out in a monotone voice.

He raised an eyebrow and tilted his chin down with amusement. “And who’s the uneasy one now?”

“Sorry, I…” Your eyes trailed down to what you were wearing. With an internal gasp, you stepped backward. “I’m going to– change.”

He widened his eyes and then his gaze also traveled down. His cheeks were oddly red and he cleared his throat, looking away.

You cringed and shut the door in his face before he could even say anything.

Now in proper clothes that were for the general public, you opened the door again. He was still standing there with that same smile. The same kind, caring one he always regarded you with even when you were just kids.

“Where should we talk?” You asked. 

His eyes glanced over to his own door. “My place?” He offered quietly. “I have unpacking to do.”

You stared at him silently. And then you nodded with an excited smile. “I can help.” 

“Oh no,” He laughed softly. “You don’t have to. I’m fine on my–”

“You don’t look fine,” You interrupted. And without thinking, your hand came up to cup his cheek, turning him to face you. “You look tired.”

He stared at you wordlessly before sighing. “I guess I am.”

“So let me help.” You grinned. “I’m using my vacation days from work right now anyway.”

He could only mutter a shy “okay” as he opened the door for you to enter. Looking around, you found that the only things that he had unpacked lacked much of any personality. He took out the necessities and a bunch of… work. Papers, a computer, work suits and the like.

“You seem busy,” You remarked as you walked over to the box labeled “decorations” only for there to literally be one single plant that looked like it needed to be watered. In fact, it was on the brink of death. Immediately, your face was contorting in worry and you turned to where he was just standing at the entrance with an embarrassed expression. “What… happened to your initial dream?”

He approached you and peered into the box. “What dream?”

“The one where you wanted to have a place full of pretty plants.”

“Yeah well,” He laughed bitterly. “Circumstances change aspirations.”

You gulped nervously at his change of tone. Something was bothering him. Something, in particular, caused him to move here. You led him to the couch and sat next to him.

“So what is it? Why did you cut everyone off and– disappear?” You asked cautiously.

He looked at you for a long minute like he was trying to figure out a response for himself. And finally, he just sighed in defeat.

“Problems.”

“Like what?” You prodded.

“A lot. And I wouldn’t want to lay them all on you.” He gave you a weak smile. You regarded him with a soft look in your eyes, searching his face for any sort of answer. All you could see was a flame that had long been put out.

“Then tell me one.”

“One?” He bit his lip nervously. “One…”

“Just one,” You said gently.

“Like the one where the place I used to work at didn’t treat me right? That they refused to give me anything?” He mumbled, his voice trailing off with embarrassment. “So I moved here so that I could get away? That one?” 

You froze at his words. You processed them and that was when it began to make sense. He wasn’t going to work yesterday. He was going to an interview. His computer was open to job openings and the papers weren’t reports. They were resumes.

“Hyunjae,” You whispered. But he was already distancing himself, standing up from the couch. You gazed at him with concern as you stood up, only for him to take a step backward.

“Why are you…” You frowned. “It’s okay, you know. Did you think I would look at you any differently?”

His jaw clenched. “Well, I did cut you off because I didn’t want to worry you. You always told me I would be successful, the best. So how exactly could I face you after they…”

“That’s not your fault. And I’m sorry for putting that on you,” You mustered, stepping closer. This time, he didn’t step away. He allowed you to do anything. He let you trail a hand down to his wrist, holding it gently. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me more. I’m sorry.”

He watched you with slight surprise, and with his lips pulled into a straight line, he whispered a small, “I should be the one who’s sorry.”

You shook your head with a smile. “Don’t be.”

He stayed silent at that, simply studying your features. You could tell he still wanted to apologize. But then the corner of his lips lifted slightly. “You grew up.” His tone was gentle, so kind, just like you’ve always known. It was a little quieter than before though, more closed off as if he was afraid–scared of what you would think of him.

You laughed bashfully. “And so did you.” Your hand trailed up to his shoulder. “Did you start working out?”

He smirked. “Why, do you like my progress?”

You snorted. “Could improve.”

He scoffed yet he only looked at you with fondness. The two of you simply stood there, in the midst of his empty apartment, just staring at each other. And then you giggled. He laughed as well before reaching forward and pulling you into his arms, squeezing you so tight that you felt the air leave your lungs.

“Ah–” You choked. “Hyunjae. You’re killing me.”

“I’m showing you my newfound strength,” He joked, stepping away. You were about to refute but instead, you felt your gaze wandering to his arms. Since when were they so toned and–

“Very funny,” You weakly replied. Escaping from his persisting soft gaze, you stepped away and approached the various boxes. “What can I help you with?”

Hyunjae didn’t have much. Apparently, all those large boxes contained about three small things. 

“I overestimated,” He replied with a sheepish smile when you asked.

Most of his things were put away yet when you looked around, the apartment was void of any joy or charm. The only boxes that were left were his clothes which he claimed he could do another day. After putting away his single cup and plate–that’s all he had apparently–you turned around only to see that he was crouched, bending towards that same plant that you pointed out. Its leaves were drooping and the stem wilting, as his fingers gently prodded at it. When you looked closely, you could see a melancholy look on his face, a small frown tugging on his lips.

It was true, that Hyunjae had many dreams when he was younger. That was normal for many people. But to witness it all dissipate before your sight, no sign of light behind his eyes, you couldn’t help but feel your heart clench.

Walking over, you crouched down next to him. He gave you a forced smile.

“Kind of sad,” He remarked with a disappointed sigh. “I bought it only for me to fail to take care of it.”

“You can always buy another one.”

“Mhm,” He hummed dully. “Sure.” 

You watched him wordlessly, observing the way his gaze fell when one of the leaves broke off. Shaking your head, you suddenly stood up.

“Let’s go out.”

He looked up at you in surprise. “What?”

“I’ll be your tour guide of the town,” You joked. “I know everything.”

Standing up with you, he stole a glance at his phone. “I can’t.”

“Why?” You pouted.

“I’m waiting for my result from the interview.”

You sighed and took his wrist in yours, pulling him to the door. “You need to get your mind off that for a second.”

“But–”

“Please?” You looked up at him, even batting your eyelashes. “Just for a moment?” You also exaggerated a pout.

He blinked in shock, his eyes trailing over your expression. “What are you doing?”

“Making you feel bad. Is it working?” You held back a grin.

He huffed out a laugh. “Definitely. Fine, just for a moment.”

You grinned and you were already pulling on your shoes and bounding out the door, leaving Hyunjae to smile to himself.

“This is a convenience store.” You pointed at it with a bright smile.

He rolled his eyes. “I know what a convenience store is.”

You laughed and led him to the next block before abruptly stopping. “This is the karaoke bar,” You said, pointing at the nearby building.

“Fun,” He muttered.

“We should go one day.” You smiled. “Actually no.” You scowled. “I got drunk there once and I think they banned me because I was dancing on the tables.”

Hyunjae turned to you in slight shock. “You? Drunk?”

“What?” You widened your eyes in surprise. “What is it?”

“I just… you always said that you hated the taste of alcohol,” He replied in wonder.

“Times change.” You grinned, nudging his shoulder. He gave you a small smile back.

Then, you led him to your favorite spot. The central park in the middle of town. It was a beautiful day out, the sky bright and blue. You loved to sit at one of the benches, watching birds fly by or kids play happily on the playground. 

“Wait here.” You patted the seat. And then you were running off, nowhere to be seen. Hyunjae simply sat there, observing the calm atmosphere. When you came back, you were holding a stick of cotton candy in your hand. It was large, almost covering your whole face. Hyunjae chuckled, taking it from you so you wouldn’t trip on the ground.

“Aren’t we too old for this?” He questioned.

You shook your head. “I still love it.”

He took a bite and turned to look at you with furrowed eyebrows. “It’s so sweet.”

“That’s why it’s good!” You stared at him like he was the craziest man alive.

“It’s because you’ve always had a sweet tooth.” He frowned, gently placing it back in your hands. 

“Fine,” You scoffed. “If that’s how you treat your best friend.” And you were taking a bite on the opposite side. When you pulled it away from your face, you were startled by a loud laugh. From Hyunjae, specifically. Turning to him with wide eyes, you could even see him smiling.

It was not like the other smiles that you’ve seen so far. Those ones were small, lacking much of any emotion. But this one was wide, full with amusement and happiness.

“Wha– oh,” You huffed, realizing that there was cotton candy on your nose. Hyunjae laughed even louder and suddenly he was leaning in to gently wipe it off with his finger.

“Cutie,” He whispered fondly, his other hand gently cupping the side of your face.

Your heart stuttered at the word. “Wh-what?”

He gulped, pulling away like he was burned. “Oh, I…”

You quickly recovered, instead scooching even closer to him so that your shoulders were touching. “You think I’m cute? Even when I’m all grown up?”

“Always.”

“I missed your smile,” You stated as the two of you were walking back to the apartment complex.

You had expected him to point out that he had smiled other times before. But instead, he gazed at you with soft eyes.

“I did too. It’s been a while since I’ve felt so happy,” He said. “All thanks to you.”

“Of course!” You beamed, looping an arm with his before pulling him closer. “You can always count on me.”

He didn’t respond this time. But his expression said it all. Thank you, thank you, thank you, was all you could see in his dark brown eyes. Smiling, you bumped your body playfully against his.

“Are you busy tomorrow?” You asked.

Again, you found yourself in his apartment the next day. Apparently, he had just gotten back from running and he needed to take a shower. So, you were looking through his boxes full of clothes. You sorted through them, folding them until you came across a hoodie. You didn’t recognize it, but the fabric of it was so… soft and warm. Your hands held onto it, contemplating what it would feel like if you just–

The door to the bathroom creaked open. You gasped and shoved it behind you, greatly hoping that he didn’t notice you staring at it longingly. But alas, you just had to have slow reflexes at this moment.

“Do you like it?” He asked. “Put it on.” 

You laughed awkwardly, turning to face him, only for your protests to come stuttering to a stop. Your eyes trailed down from his damp hair to his… whole torso. His bare torso. He was shirtless. Right out of the shower, water droplets sitting prettily on his collarbones, traveling all the way down to his chest and his– he definitely works out. 

“Oh,” You breathed out, your cheeks flushing red as you frantically looked away. This was not how you expected to reunite with your best friend after so long. 

“Sorry,” He replied, his voice low. “My shirt’s in there.”

You nodded, refusing to look up. It was quiet for a moment, too quiet that you contemplated just shoving his clothes into his hands while dutifully avoiding the sight of his bare chest. 

But then he was right beside you and he smelled so, so good as he leaned over you, his hand gently grasping your waist. To take a shirt. Very unnecessary but it still left you inhaling sharply. Feeling yourself go dizzy as you stood there, eyes trained on the ground, and every single muscle in all of human anatomy completely rigid until you were sure he was properly dressed.

Taking a peek, you were met with his teasing smile.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” You mustered.

“You were staring weren’t you?” He leaned even closer, his eyes searching yours with amusement. His hand gently lifted your chin up, making you swallow thickly at the way he was gazing at you with a small smirk. 

“I wasn’t,” You whispered shakily.

“Hm,” He hummed. “You look a little flushed though.”

“It was nothing,” You shoved him away, feeling like your face was on fire. “You shouldn’t just walk around like that. It’s…”

“Mhm.” He only continued to smile wider. “Whatever you say.”

You groaned, abruptly turning away to hide your reddening cheeks. But then your eyes landed back on that same hoodie.

“I know that look on your face,” He teased, picking it up. “You like it.”

“I don’t.”

“Okay,” He simply replied, shrugging and turning around. You were just about to question his suspiciously short response when out of nowhere, he whipped back around and pulled the hoodie over you. Immediately, you were encompassed in warmth and– did he always smell this good? And why was he staring at you so softly with that stupid fond smile and why was your heart beating a mile a minute and–

“Hyunjae,” You groaned. “What was that for?”

But he stayed silent, simply examining you wearing his clothes. You tilted your head.

“Do I look good?”

His breath hitched and now it was him with reddening cheeks as he backed away. You stifled a laugh as you stepped forward, cornering him against the edge of the kitchen counter.

“And I know that look on your face,” You teased back. “You like it.”

His eyes fluttered, almost like he was fighting the urge to look over your body once again. He inhaled deeply and then he straightened, leaning over you this time. With a subtle smile, he whispered something that left shivers down your spine.

“I love it.”

Oh my god. You treaded backwards, suddenly feeling conscious of everything. His eyes on you–all over you–the way the shirt clung to his body, the rushing thought of the fact that you saw him without it on just a few minutes ago–everything came over you like a bucket of ice water.

“I–” With wide eyes, he only continued to approach you, the scent of his shampoo overcoming you quickly. You couldn’t come up with a comeback anymore. At first, you thought that this was just friendly banter, the type that you guys would do in the school cafeteria. But this–this was something different. With the way he was looking at you with darkening eyes, you weren’t quite sure this was that “friendly banter” thing anymore.

“Shut up,” You blurted out as you pulled the hoodie off you and thrust it into his chest.

“Why?” He grinned. “I like this game.”

You raised your eyebrows. “What game is this exactly?”

“The game of making the other person flustered.” 

You stood there for a moment, thinking. You couldn’t quite come up with a verbal comeback. So you could instead…

Taking a step forward, you hooked a hand around the back of his neck, letting your touch linger there for a moment. A stuttering breath was caught thickly in his throat as he looked down at you in bafflement.

And then you let your fingertips trail around, down his neck, across his collarbone, slightly pulling down the hem of his shirt and stopping just at his chest where you could feel his heart thump erratically.

Your trace on his skin left sparks flying in your heart and when you had looked up, you knew that Hyunjae was experiencing the same thing.

He was looking down at you, completely speechless and his eyes round in shock. You smiled in triumph, leaning close to one of his reddening ears.

“Then I win.”

And you were heading for the door. But just as you turned around, you could see Hyunjae who was still leaning against the counter, cheeks now red as he stared down at the ground. You giggled, closing the door behind you.

The next time you saw Hyunjae, unsurprisingly, he looked exhausted again. In fact, he didn’t even recognize you at first with how he was gazing off into space rather than unlocking his own door.

“Come over tonight,” You offered.

He raised an eyebrow. “To do what?”

You choked. “Not that. Movie night!” You winked, patting his shoulder before leaving for the grocery store. You made sure to mentally add popcorn to your list.

And so, when it was pitch dark at night, you had opened your door to Hyunjae, fidgeting nervously at the entrance. You laughed, grabbing his wrist and pulling him in.

“Don’t be nervous.” You grinned. “It’s just me.”

As you set up the movie, you couldn’t help but notice Hyunjae looking around your apartment. He seemed to be taking in all of your decorations, and the fact that you had more than one cup and plate. You smiled.

“We can go shopping if you want,” You spoke up. “For your apartment.”

He glanced at you in shock. But he eventually nodded with a small smile, that same one you noticed that he often forced when he was tired and down.

Now sitting on the couch, side-by-side but never quite touching, the two of you watched a movie. It was a comfortable silence and whenever you would glance at Hyunjae, he would notice and turn his attention back to you. And every time you would make eye contact, you made sure to give him a bright smile, one that showed him that “I’m always here for you.”

"Staring?" He teased.

"In fact I am," You replied. "Forget the movie, you're the award-winning feature."

He laughed again. The same bright one at the park.

"I didn't take you to be such a flirter," He remarked.

"I'm not," You refuted. "You really are amazing."

He gave you a smile that wasn't so convincing. "If you say so."

Near the resolution of the film, you found yourself scooching over to him, letting your shoulders touch. But that wasn’t exactly enough, so you lifted his arm so that you could rest your head on his chest, his body warmth easily spreading to yours.

“What are you doing?” He muttered.

For a second, you thought he might actually be annoyed. But, when you looked up, you could see his softening eyes and the slight blush on his cheeks. You huffed in amusement and you only persisted, snuggling close to his chest. Eventually, he gave up on the whole tough act and he let his arm wrap around you, rubbing your arm in up-and-down motions.

You didn’t notice that you had fallen asleep.

Though you did briefly remember two… moments. One of them was him cautiously bringing you to your bed. The other being a warm hand softly caressing your cheek.

You woke up alone. Good! Who else did you expect? Rubbing your eyes, there was a constant sound ringing in your ears. The doorbell, you groaned. Stumbling to the door, you were hoping maybe… Hyunjae? But instead, it was your landlord. You furrowed your eyebrows in concern.

She sighed, shaking her head.

“Bad news.”

When it was Hyunjae this time who had invited you over, you were pleasantly surprised. Opening the door, you could see him sitting at the table, staring intently at his computer.

Tilting your head, you were about to ask what he was looking at. But then he suddenly jumped up, the chair almost falling over. There was a bright smile on his face as he rushed over to you.

“Hyunjae?” You looked at him in confusion.

“I got the job,” He exclaimed. “I got it.”

“You did?” You gasped. “That’s so– that’s amazing! Congratul–” You inhaled sharply when you felt two hands grasp onto your waist. And suddenly, your whole world shifted once you realized that he was literally picking you up and twirling you around. You laughed shyly as you allowed him to, watching fondly at the way he smiled so, so freely.

Once he had slowed down, there was an impending thought in the back of your mind that appeared from all of the adrenaline. He could put you down and you could lean in and maybe… maybe– press your lips to his as an extra cheer. Mentally slapping yourself, you felt your cheeks grow hot. Again, what were you thinking?

His hands were still on your waist, the both of you out of breath. You smiled, giggling softly. He smiled back, his eyes bright and sparkling.

“I’m proud of you,” You finally said.

“It’s all thanks to you,” He replied.

“Hm, well,” You huffed. “Guess who lost their apartment.”

He gaped at you. “What?”

“Not permanently,” You groaned. “But there’s been a technical problem that has to be investigated and fixed. So I can’t stay there for the meantime.”

He looked at you, deep in thought. And then his hands tightened on your waist. “Then stay here with me.”

Now it was your turn to gawk at him. “What?”

“Please.” He smiled. “I owe you.”

You blushed. “I didn’t do much.”

“You did.” He walked forward, nearly caging you against the wall. “Everything. You’ve helped me get this job.” Another step forward. “I’m indebted to you.”

“H-hyunjae,” You stuttered, trying your best to avoid stealing a glance at his lips.

“Just temporarily.”

You made a mental pro and con list. Pros–He was your childhood best friend meaning that he knew you best. Cons–what if things changed? What if you… fell? And you didn’t mean physically.

With a hesitant sigh in defeat, you responded quietly. 

“Temporarily.”

When you and Hyunjae had art class together, you learned a little bit more about him. He was always the one who enjoyed the sketching, the outlining with the black pen, and shading in grey. You, on the other hand, were the one who would color in between those lines with vibrant colors, brightening the picture into something truly complete. 

That was how you complimented each other. People often painted him out to be cold and blunt, but you always saw past that. It was always you who thought that he was the sweetest person you’ve ever met–the one who took care of you when you were sick and who pulled you away from passing cars.

Just like one of those art projects, you began to liven up his apartment with your own things. Of course, you didn’t bring everything, but the simple pieces of your toothbrush next to his and your coat hung up on the rack, were enough to make the puzzle feel just complete.

Soon enough, the evening came which brought the dilemma of where you would sleep.

“The couch,” Hyunjae spoke up, walking out of the bathroom again, with damp hair. But at least he was fully clothed this time. Still, that vision was practically ingrained into your mind.

“You’re right.” You nodded in agreement. “I’ll–”

“Not you,” He huffed. “Me.”

“Oh,” You breathed out. Abruptly you stood up in defiance. “No!” You blurted out. “That’s rude.”

He looked at you entirely unimpressed. “I’m being a good host. A gentleman.”

“Exactly.” You scowled. “You’re going to make me feel like I’m intruding. And look who invited me in the first place?”

He sighed, glancing at the bedroom door. “There’s only one bed.”

“Then we’ll share,” You replied, completely sure of yourself. Hyunjae didn’t respond so you lifted your chin high and walked past him and into the bedroom as odd as it may sound. However, in the corner of your eye, you could see that his ears were slightly red.

You may have underestimated the sheer awkwardness. Just a bit. Maybe a lot.

The two of you stood on either side of the bed, facing each other, contemplating the fact that this would be the first time you would be sleeping together. Actually, it wasn’t really awkward per se. It was more… hilarious. You pursed your lips, trying to stifle your laughter, while Hyunjae’s cheeks were puffed out in embarrassment.

Again, as the bolder one, you climbed under the sheets first. Still, Hyunjae was just standing, hesitating. You squinted up at him through the darkness. 

Even under the dim lighting, you could see that his cheeks were incredibly flushed. 

“I think I’ll just go back to the–” He couldn’t even finish his sentence because you were grabbing onto his hand and pulling him down into bed. He didn’t really protest though as you could sense him slowly melting into the warmth of it.

The lamp was off now and you were both succumbed to darkness. It was silent, only the sound of Hyunjae’s calm breathing. You weren’t exactly tired right now. You knew that it would take you a while to fall asleep. But that was fine! You would just wait until he fell asleep first.

Except, when you turned on your side to face him, you could see him staring back, big, round doe eyes on you. So, scratch that. And now you were cold which you weren’t used to. Your apartment was usually the perfect temperature, but this one left you shivering all over.

Unconsciously, you began to shift closer to his body. He’s always been the warm one. That used to be your strategy to not freeze to death when the two of you would walk down the winter festival together.

Suddenly though, you felt an arm across your waist and steady breathing on the side of your neck.

“Hm?” You hummed in confusion, wondering if the chest against your shoulder was just a hallucination. 

But then he replied in a quiet, lower voice.

“Is this okay?” He whispered.

Oh, this was more than okay. You were familiar with his embrace. But to feel it just moments before you fell asleep brought a sudden bout of tranquility.

“Perfect.” You smiled to yourself, curling up to his body in which he held you closer in response. It was warm, comforting, just perfect. It didn’t take you a while to fall asleep anymore. 

When you awoke, you were slightly—no, very confused about why it was still dark out. You were pretty sure the room should be bright with natural light from the sun. Or maybe you’ve just gone crazy. But that was when you glanced at the time. It was still the middle of the night.

When you turned to your side, that was also when you realized that it was Hyunjae who had woken you up. Unknowingly at that. His arm was still around your waist but this time, his hold was almost painfully tight. If you looked closely, you could see that his eyes were screwed shut, his eyebrows twitching with small stuttering breaths escaping him.

But, you’ve always heard the saying that you weren’t supposed to wake someone up from a nightmare. So you hesitated, keeping your hands close to yourself, worriedly watching. At some point, he jolted awake by himself.

Now, his breathing was even faster and he had shot up, looking around frantically. Blinking your eyes sleepily, you turned on the nearby light and sat up with him.

“Hyunjae?” You whispered, looking him over in concern.

He turned to you in a growing distraught state and he widened his eyes. “Are you–”

“It’s just me,” You muttered. “Bad dream?”

Hyunjae froze for a moment but he slowly nodded. And usually, it was you who initiated the hugs. But this time, he was the one who lunged forward, holding you close to his chest. His hands grasped onto you tightly as he buried his nose into your neck.

With the way he was holding you so tightly, so… desperately, you wondered if this had happened before. But still, you allowed him to just hold you close, your own arms coming around to gently pat his back.

You didn’t know when, but he eventually pulled away. He refused to look you in the eye and so you brought a gentle hand to the side of his face, coaxing him to face you.

“How long has this been going on for?” You frowned.

He shut his eyes. “A while.”

Your heart clenched at his quiet response. For the past few days, you had thought he was feeling better, less exhausted. But behind the bedroom door, it must be different.

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know…” He trailed off.

“You don’t have to tell me–”

“...what they’re about.”

“Oh,” You breathed. “The nightmares?”

He nodded with tired eyes. “But while I was gone–away from you–people I’ve loved, everything I’ve cherished seemed to disappear before my eyes. It wasn’t just work it was… a lot.” His voice was quiet, hard to hear but it was loud enough that you could hear each and every heart-twisting emotion.

You stayed silent, your hand finding his to stroke the back of it soothingly.

“I felt hopeless.” He frowned. “I guess those nightmares felt like I was reliving that all over again.”

He didn’t say anything after that. You watched him cautiously, wondering what exactly to do. But then you felt his hand tighten on yours slightly and that was your cue to shift even closer.

He glanced at you with an ashamed expression that only made the pit in your stomach drop even more. Slowly, slow enough so that he could back away if he wanted to, you wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close against you. Almost instantly, he was breathing out a low sigh of relief as he nuzzled even further into your embrace.

“You’re not alone anymore,” You whispered. “And… thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

He didn’t say anything, but when he held you back, it was a perfect answer. The two of you stayed like that, in the dead of night, just holding each other until you began to feel drowsy from his warmth. It wasn’t the first time that you’ve done so. The only difference was that it was always you who needed that extra piece of comfort. It was never Hyunjae. Seeing him open up was different but something that you were most grateful for.

“I never replied to you the day we met in the hallway,” He spoke, interrupting your thoughts. 

You pondered for a moment, recalling the memory. “When I said that I missed you?”

He nodded. “I didn’t reply because I was afraid you would still be mad at me for leaving you so abruptly.”

You smiled softly and shook your head, your hand coming up to the back of his head to stroke his hair soothingly. His eyes widened slightly in shock but he quickly melted into your touch. “I was angry at first.”

He laughed quietly, though his voice was watery with unfallen tears.

“But now I’m not,” You whispered. “I promise. I’m just happy to see you again.”

He pulled away to look up at you, searching your face to make sure that you were telling the truth. When you only gazed back with utmost sincerity, he let a small smile tug on his lips.

“I missed you,” He had finally replied, answering your statement from before. “More than you know. It was hard without you.”

Your gaze softened once you noticed the sparkle of a few tears in his eyes and when he blinked, your sleeve was immediately coming up to pat his cheek, drying the ones that had broken free.

“I missed you too,” You responded and gently, you were pulling him back into bed. And this time, without hesitation, he was hooking both of his arms around you, tightening you into his chest.

“...so much,” He muttered sleepily. “I missed you so much.”

“You have me now.”

“Always.” And you felt his hand grasp yours, guiding it to where his heart was, thumping in a soothing rhythm. “In here.”

You were the first one to wake up. It seemed that Hyunjae’s nightmare and tears had left him too exhausted to even notice you unwrapping yourself from his protective embrace. And so, you took it as your duty to cook something decent for him to wake up to.

Except maybe Hyunjae did notice because he opened the door shortly after. You probably should have placed a pillow in his arms before you left. He walked out and you had to stop yourself from cooing because that would be a little bit… weird. But you couldn’t help it because the sight of his hair tousled and messy, his eyes barely opened and puffy from the tears, and his lips pouted adorably, left you smiling with endearment.

“Morning sleepyhead.” You grinned, turning the stove on. 

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he shuffled over to where you were standing behind the kitchen counter. 

You tilted your head in amusement, wondering how he managed to navigate with his eyes barely open. “Are you feeling better?”

Again, still no response. You watched as he circled the counter, positioning himself behind you. And then you gasped quietly once you registered the strong arms that enveloped your waist, pulling you into a warm hug, your back now pressed up against his chest. You could even feel his nose nuzzling into the back of your neck, breathing deeply.

You simply just froze, unable to do anything. Once you realized he wasn’t going to move anytime soon, you turned the stove off and simply allowed him to hug you to his heart’s content. He let out a sleepy hum. Or was it a whine?

“You’re clingy in the morning,” You mused.

“Mhm.” Even his morning voice was cute.

And when you said sleepy, you meant it. Literally–you were pretty sure he fell asleep while back-hugging you in the middle of the kitchen. You practically had to hold on to the counter to brace his weight and when you stole a glance over your shoulder, you had to stifle a laugh. His cheek was smushed into your shoulder and his eyes shut in content.

“O–kay,” You heaved, forcing your body to turn around. And still, he would have almost collapsed into you if you hadn’t planted your hands on his shoulders to hold him up. His head lolled to the side as he peeked an eye open to look at you drowsily.

You chuckled and your hand came up to his hair to ruffle it. Immediately, he was leaning into your touch and when your hand traveled down to cup his cheek, he was nuzzling into it like a puppy.

“I missed you,” He slurred, his voice huskier than usual.

“Mm, you said that already,” You hummed teasingly, a smile threatening to spread across your lips. “Hyunjae.”

“Hm?” He smiled lazily.

“You’re acting drunk and it’s like–” You glanced at the clock. “Seven in the morning.”

“And what about it? I missed you,” He grumbled, an adorable frown on his lips.

“Ah,” You sighed, shaking your head. “Go splash water on your face, you dummy. Then you’ll wake up properly.”

He still didn’t budge. And so, using every single ounce of your strength, you had to carry him all the way to the bathroom as he was still clinging onto you like a koala.

After a few minutes, with the sound of the bathroom sink splashing in the background, you finally managed to start cooking something. But then the door clicked open and you looked up. Hyunjae, his eyes finally open, was blushing so hard that you couldn’t even conceal your laugh anymore.

“Missed me?” You remarked.

He winced in response, his cheeks continuing to flame red.

“I don’t know what got into me,” He muttered, refusing to look you in the eye.

You beckoned him over and he finally looked up at you shyly.

“It was cute,” You teased. “You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

“And what else?” He quickly recovered.

Your breath hitched. Ah, you thought. There he was. The usual Hyunjae when he was fully awake. The one who loved to tease you until you were blushing and hiding your face. 

“Don’t do this again,” You groaned.

“Do what?”

“That.”

“You’ll have to elaborate on that, sweetheart.”

You raised an eyebrow at the nickname, completely unfazed. But when your eyes traveled down, that was when you realized just how close he was. He continued to lean forward until he was caging you against the counter, both of his hands on either side of you. It wasn’t the flirting that got you, it was his body encompassing you so, so effortlessly, making you feel smaller than you really were. 

He chuckled. “Cat got your tongue?”

Oh, this is definitely how best friends act. You were one hundred percent sure about that. 

He smirked, tilting his chin down, as his hand traveled from the edge of the counter down to your hip. 

Fifty percent. 

His eyes wandering elsewhere–somewhere along the lines of your lips.

One percent.

“The breakfast is going to burn,” You stuttered.

He simply licked his lips, his gaze fixated on yours.

“I can always try something else.”

You were screwed.

The first day of Hyunjae’s new job was the very last day of your brief vacation from work. With a sigh, you scrolled through the shows and movies, only for you to ultimately turn off the TV in boredom. You weren’t going to beat around the bush and refuse to admit that you felt lonely without him. Of course, you saw him in the morning, already dressed in a suit (that fit amazingly on him, dare you add), but it was only for a short moment.

He still had nightmares but they were becoming less and less frequent. Sometimes, when they happened, you would just pull him closer and he would immediately relax with a small sigh, almost like you had the superpower to eliminate his night terrors.

And sleeping together never was awkward again. In fact, you adequately enjoyed it–his arms around you and vice versa. Did best friends regularly cuddle at night and gaze at each other for so long that your heartbeat started to speed up? That… you weren’t quite sure about.

Yawning, you found yourself lying down, spreading across the couch. You didn’t even do much today yet your eyes still threatened to shut close.

At some point, you blinked your eyelids open once you heard the door unlocking. Sitting up, you smiled softly at the sight of Hyunjae opening the door. His tie was already loose and his hair was blown up from the wind. Squinting your eyes, you then noticed that he was practically stumbling into the entrance, almost like all of his coordination had dissipated. 

His eyes were droopy and his lips pouted from what you would guess to be exhaustion. Everyone’s first day of work was like that. You watched as he set down his work bag and walked over to you, very… very slowly.

“How was work?” You questioned, looking up at him.

And just like last time, he didn’t respond. Silently, he leaned forward and literally–very literally–laid on top of you. His body weight pulled you back down to lie on the couch and his arms were snaking around you as his legs tangled with yours. Speechless, you felt as he nuzzled back into your neck, just like he’s begun to do so often now.

“You look gorgeous today,” He whispered, his voice very oddly slurred.

Your breath hitched. “Are you drunk?”

He looked up at that and you practically choked on air once you realized how close his face was to yours. And then he smiled languidly and shook his head.

“Are you sure?” You searched him for any sign–red cheeks, the scent of the alcoholic drink–yet you couldn’t find any. 

“I’m just tired,” He mumbled, planting his face back into the crook of your neck.

“Okay,” You laughed. Gently, your hand came up to his broad back to rub it in circles, the material of the suit rough and honestly quite unsatisfying. But still, you persisted once you felt his tense muscles slowly soften. Slowly though, you came to a stop. “Hyunjae.”

“Hm?” He hummed.

“You need to take a shower,” You huffed. “C’mon.” With all of your power, you pushed him up and off you. Again, his head tilted to the side with a tired smile. You laughed and shoved him until he finally obliged and went off to the bathroom.

Meanwhile, you were left there, contemplating his strange behavior. He never acted this clingy before. Not even for the years that you’ve known him. It was only after that particular night that he started to… do this.

When he was done showering, he stepped out. You had hoped that he would be more awake now, but it seemed he was even drowsier than before–too tired to even dry his own hair. With a click of your tongue, you motioned him over to sit down. Like a puppy, his eyes brightened at the sight of you as he obediently followed.

“You’ll catch a cold,” You ridiculed with a worried frown.

After finding a towel, you stepped in between his legs. Carefully, you began to dry his damp hair, marveling at the way his hair curled up after a shower. You rubbed his scalp, making your way around and behind his ears. When you peeked at his expression, you stifled a laugh at the way he basically fell asleep under your touch.

Once you deemed his hair dry enough, you were about to walk away but instead, he abruptly stood up, swaying slightly. And then he fell forward, pulling you into a warm embrace.

You smiled fondly. “Tired?”

It seems that when Hyunjae was tired, he never answered any of your questions, funnily enough. A lot of his answers were just “I missed you” or a small hum. But this… this answer was different. It was spoken so quietly, so softly yet it perfectly resonated through your ears. 

“I love you.”

Before you could even say anything or really do anything, he was reluctantly pulling away and heading to the bedroom. Your lips parted as your eyes fixated on absolutely nothing. Just– space. Your whole body had gone rigid as you simply stood there, processing his words. You couldn’t even blink. 

Best friends… say that too, don’t they?

It started to become a pattern for the whole first week of his new job. When he was actually fully awake, he told you that the work was demanding yet he never looked so happy and content. Sometimes, you wondered what his past work was like, but you never prodded.

But, because the work was just so demanding, every single day, from Monday to Friday, he came home exhausted. And any person would expect him to just head straight for bed. But like you said, it was a pattern, a usual thing, that he would cling on to you. Apparently, something had shifted in him. Originally, when you saw him exhausted, he would become closed off. But after… that night, he acted almost intoxicated. Not on a drink. But simply off being tired.

You found it endearing actually. His voice was always quieter and he often stumbled over his words this way. His eyes were dazed and soft on yours and he also became ten times heavier as he liked to lay all of his weight on you when he pulled you into a hug. He constantly just seemed to be in a completely different mindset–one that was very… loving and… yeah– different.

He liked to say things too. Slurred and quiet, but he still very clearly said them. You could never figure out if he meant them or if he was just tired and rambling things for the fun of it.

He said “I misssed you” a lot. Occasionally, he would blurt out that you looked pretty or beautiful. Or, it would be a small “hi” accompanied by a shy smile. Sometimes, if he was too tired to say much, he would just giggle over nothing in particular. But… there was one specific phrase that he would say out of the blue.

“I love you.”

That one always left you perplexed. It could be a… platonic thing to say, right? Where did the word “love” come from? You didn’t think much of it, but you couldn’t help but feel some sort of spark of light in the very depths of your heart.

It was weird, really. An out-of-this-world, alien-like thing for a best friend to say. The words I, love, and you arranged in that particular order were never syllables Hyunjae ever let fall from his lips. He never spent any particular ounce of breath to say them. 

Yet now he did.

For some odd reason.

But again, he was just tired. Surely.

And just like before, the pattern started all over again. The week was coming to a close so maybe you wouldn’t hear those words again after this. But you didn’t really mind altogether. With a tired sigh, you walked out of the room, now changed out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable.

Right on cue, the main door was unlocking, and once again, the pattern began to unweave itself. He would walk in, with the occasional misstep and stumble. And like usual, he looked tired. Though, you envied his ability to still look… attractive. And then he would look up, search for a particular someone, and do that stupidly lazy smile–the one where his eyes weren’t focused on anything but you.

“What are you doing here?” He giggled–he giggled now, apparently.

You eyed him, completely apathetic. “You let me stay here temporarily, remember?”

He blinked at you with an adorable pout. And then he nodded. “You’re right.” He smiled. “Aren’t you smart?” He pinched your cheek. 

Scowling, you wrestled his hands off. And for the first time this week, you finally decided to question his bizarre behavior.

“Why are you acting like this?” You whined, holding him up by his arms so he wouldn’t fall over you like he had done the day before.

“Because I missed you,” He grumbled, his eyes struggling to stay open. “Now let me–”

“Agh,” You groaned. But still, your hands fell to your sides as you let him wrap his arms around your torso, bringing you close to his chest. Whatever made him happy, was your motive. And totally not, I secretly enjoy this.

It was quiet for a few moments, just the sound of his slow breathing against your earlobe. For a minute, you worried that he had fallen asleep already, but he spoke again.

“Have I mentioned how uncomfortable this suit is?” He mumbled. “It’s very hot and–”

You didn’t even say anything. With a sigh–one that wasn’t particularly annoyed, but more… doting–you stepped away. He stared at you in both drowsiness and slight confusion, but his eyes slowly widened once he realized that you were taking off the jacket for him. Gently, you pulled it off his shoulders and down his arms, your eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration.

He was quiet, simply watching as your fingers grasped his tie, unloosening it with a sharp pull, causing him to lurch forward, his lips startlingly close to yours. 

“Interesting,” He teasingly remarked, but his voice was still slurred.

“Shut up,” You snapped yet there was no malice behind your tone.

Your hands then came up to his collar, unbuttoning the first few buttons to reveal slightly past his collarbones which… you’ve already accidentally witnessed before. With a friendly pat on his shoulder, you deemed him undressed enough. He slowly turned his gaze to you and your breath hitched at the sight– his work attire now loose with his hair slightly messy… ah. Not to mention, his tilted head and sleepy expression that only made things worse.

Clearing your throat, feeling your cheeks burn, you scrambled off somewhere to shove a change of clothes into his hands and left abruptly, your heart thumping. Soon enough–you didn’t know when because you were busy contemplating all of your feelings and the meaning of life–he walked into the bedroom. Undoing the made bed, you motioned him to climb in. Obediently, he followed and you pulled the blankets over him.

“Y/n,” He muttered, grasping your wrist before you could walk away.

“Hm?”

“...love you,” He whispered.

Again, he was just rambling. He was just saying things. He had stumbled over his words and his voice was quiet, so that meant that he didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean any of it. It was all fake–

“I love you,” He repeated—clearer, louder this time without an inch of hesitation. And this time, he was looking straight up at you, his cheeks slightly pink, flushed.

Maybe it was more real than you had thought.

The first week was over, meaning Hyunjae was more situated at work and most importantly, less exhausted. On the first day of his new, non-intoxicated-on-fatigue persona, he had simply greeted you and strolled past. You wouldn’t admit it fully to him but that simple interaction that did better fit what you guys were–best friends–left you feeling empty inside.

But it was fine. It was just a one-week thing.

Until it wasn’t.

The next day, the pattern appeared again, but it wasn’t… like before.

He was fully awake this time yet he still–

“Hyunjae?” You stammered. The arms wrapped around your waist tightened further as he stood behind you, hooking his chin over your shoulder, and breathing out a low sigh. And now that he was newly… conscious, he did more. His hands began to wander over you in soothing shapes and he pressed his chest further against your back.

“Just stay here with me.” 

You could see his soft smile in the corner of your eye. With a bothered huff, you glanced back at him, only for you to inhale sharply at how close he actually was and how… nice his cologne smelt. Oh, and his hands were still wandering.

“I thought you only acted like this when you’re tired?”

He shook his head, shifting even closer, his warmth encompassing you comfortingly.

“Do you want to know something about me?”

“I know a lot about you,” You joked.

But he was quiet, a serious silence befalling the two of you. You gulped and whispered a small “what is it?”

You could hear him huff out in amusement, his hands never failing to leave your waist. “While I was away–when I was at my lowest–I thought of someone all those years.”

And for some reason, you knew exactly what the answer was. 

But still, your voice tremored. “Who?”

A squeeze on your waist.

“You.”

Shutting your eyes, you breathed out a shaky sigh and looked down to where he was still hugging you from behind. Your heart was thumping and you were sure he could hear you. And even if he could make out the pounding, he never budged once. Not once did he stop tightening his arms around you and not once did he cease to bury his nose somewhere into your skin, leaving shivers down your spine.

With your heartbeat practically reaching your ears, you nudged him and turned around so that now, you were facing him. Without his dazed, sleepy look, it was just his soft eyes and the slightest tug of his lips, an endeared smile. Without his exhaustion that often left him sluggish, it was just his firm, stronger arms that held you so easily.

“Hyunjae,” You whispered. 

“Sweetheart,” He replied, his voice gentle and content. And before, you wouldn’t have paid a single ounce of attention to that nickname because it just seemed like how best friends would fool around. But now… things were different and you weren’t sure how exactly. And so the name sweetheart now left your cheeks flushing.

You swallowed thickly, your breath shortening. “Do you know how much you confuse me?”

His smile only grew. “Elaborate on that.” A pause. “Sweetheart.”

You sighed, biting your lip with mortification. “That. The nickname.”

“Sweetheart? You never said you didn’t like it, I can stop if you want—“

“Don’t!” You rushed to say. You blushed more once you realized he was teasing you again, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Not just the nickname. Everything.”

“Like what?” He stepped closer if that was even possible.

You gazed up at him and you were sure you looked frustrated right now, judging by his fond smile. He always said you looked cute when mad.

“You say that you miss me all the time.”

“Because I do.” He dipped his head lower to look at you with those foolish, puppy-like eyes. “I think of you whenever I’m at work.”

“But,” You exhaled shakily. “Do you realize that you say something else?” 

You were sure he wasn’t aware. He didn’t seem to be in the right state of mind whenever he was exhausted. So maybe, he would just stare at you in utter confusion, deny it, and this whole… feeling fiasco would be done and dealt with. But then—

“That I love you?”

Your lips parted in surprise and you peered up at him, wondering if he was just taking a wild guess. But no, the soft, genuine look on his face said it all.

“You… knew?” You stuttered.

“Of course I did,” He chuckled softly. “And I meant every single one.”

Eyebrows furrowing, you stepped backward from shock. As you avoided his eyes, you missed the nervousness and the unsureness that flitted across his face. But, just that one step away left chills down your body–as if being away from Hyunjae and his embrace wasn’t even natural anymore.

And so you stepped forward again. Immediately, you could hear a low sigh of relief escape Hyunjae’s lips and feel his hands snake back around your waist protectively. You weren’t sure what expression was on his face though, as you were very adamant on staring directly at his tie–his chest. You knew that he could still see your reddening cheeks, but you still preferred not to look him in the eye. 

“That,” He said quietly. “You’re also quite confusing too.”

“Wh-what?” 

“Stepping away and stepping back,” He spoke softly. “Looking me in the eye but refusing to when I say that I love you.” One of his hands left your waist to gently guide your chin up. “So look at me now.” 

“I…” You trailed off, feeling yourself go weak just from his soft, loving gaze.

“And one more thing.” He tilted his head teasingly.

A pause. A great moment of silence.

“You don’t say it but you show it.”

“Hyunjae,” You breathed out, your heart beating like a loud, intense drum.

“I wasn’t completely unaware.” He smirked. His hand had already left your chin and found its place back to your waist, yet you found yourself staring straight into his dark eyes, stuck in a trance. “I know that you dried my hair with a towel–that you even undressed me. I know that you took care of me.”

You did do that all on your own accord, simply because you thought that you were being a perfectly good friend. But now that you thought about it–you didn’t have to. You could have easily pushed him off, and told him to do everything on his own but you didn’t. And it was all because you–

“So tell me then,” He whispered, his voice quiet–only for you to hear, almost like he wanted you all to himself. “What are we?”

You held your breath, your cheeks growing hot. Your hands rested on his chest and you could feel his heart pound, exactly like yours. He felt the same, you realized. With a shaky sigh, you gazed up at him.

“What do you want us to be?”

He hummed, a soft smile on his lips. “What do I want?” 

He slightly reworded your question and you wondered why. But you nodded, your eyes studying his features. His handsome features. They were sharp when you had met him in that hallway. But his keen eyes, the angle of his eyebrows, his perpetual frown–they were just soft, soft on you. No longer was there a frown, but just an affectionate smile.

“What do you want?” You repeated his question, your voice hushed to a whisper.

He leaned in, his gaze warm and gentle, his eyes wandering over each and every detail of your face.

“I want to love you.”

You had expected to inhale sharply, gasp maybe–but no. Because everything made sense to you now. His kind words, his soft and fleeting touches across your body, it all pointed to one thing. And so, instead, you smiled shyly.

“Then love me.”

And just like that, his grip on your hips tightened and he turned you around so that your back was facing the door. He was walking you backward until you felt the hard surface against your shoulder blades and he was leaning down, close enough that if he inched further, he would be kissing you. But he didn’t–not yet.

“May I?” He muttered, looking over you with slight concern. 

You nodded, embarrassingly with a bit too eagerness. He laughed softly and then he was fitting his lips against yours as your eyes fluttered closed. The press of it was gentle and tender as he tilted your chin up and angled himself so that it was more comfortable. The kiss was unlike any that you’ve experienced before. It was like the tension that had built up before had completely broken down, as you allowed yourself to just fall.

Fall, physically, almost because you felt your knees go weak, with only the door behind you to hold you up. But his hand traveled back down to your waist, hooking you in against his body, keeping you steady as he muffled a groan against your lips. You couldn’t hear anything but his breathing and the thumping of your own heart. 

All you could think of was him–how he could so easily change from rough to soft, how he could push forward so quickly but pull away so easily to allow you a gasp of breath, and how he could make your heart pound yet lull it into a steady rhythm of love. He kissed like he could devour you, but if you decided to peek an eye open, you would see his adorably furrowed eyebrows and his flushed cheeks, showing that he wasn’t anything like that.

He was just a man who needed a bit of a sweetener in his life.

With a quiet noise, he pulled away. Immediately, his eyes searched over your features, making sure that you were okay and that he didn’t do too much. But, when you gave him a smile, your eyes flitting nervously, he grinned and leaned in to grant you another soft kiss.

“How long?” You laughed shyly.

“I came to the realization when you tried to cheer me up whenever I was tired. But I think I’ve already felt this way for a while.” He replied. He pinched your cheek again. “All those dates and extra care that you gave me…very cute thing to do.”

Your eyes went wide. “You… noticed?”

“I notice a lot of things, sweetheart,” He teased. “Like how you’re grabbing onto my suit to pull me into a kiss right now.”

“O-oh,” You stammered, letting go of his crumpled collar. “I didn’t realize I–”

He shook his head and before you could finish your sentence, he was cupping your cheek–something that he’s never done before–and guiding you back to his lips. And this time, his tongue swiped against your lip, making you gasp quietly.

“You taste like candy.” His gaze fixated on your lips.

“I didn’t know you could…” You had to stop for a second to catch your breath. And it wasn’t just because of his exceptional kissing, but it was the beat of your heart, of all of your love. “...you could kiss like that.”

“What can I say?” He tilted his head with a teasing look. “I guess I have a sweet tooth.”

“Trust me on this,” Younghoon whined. “I followed the instructions to the very dot. They’ll taste good. Promise.”

You eyed him skeptically but still, you picked up one of the cookies that he had baked. They looked a little… off, but it should be fine. Taking a bite, you took note of the odd texture, and then the taste started to register on your tongue.

You coughed. You choked. And then you threw the cookie back on the plate. 

“Bitter,” You gagged. “It’s so bitter.”

“What?” He cried. “Are you kidding me–”

Your eyes lit up once you remembered your boyfriend who was sitting next to you on the couch. He was busy on his computer, doing some sort of work report but you ignored that, turning to him and grasping his collar tightly. You pulled him in, pressing your lips to his, causing him to let out a small “mmph” in surprise.

But almost instantly, he turned into jelly from your touch, a smile growing on his lips as his eyes fluttered close. He had tried to deepen it desperately but you pulled away shortly after, leaving him to chase after your lips adorably.

Younghoon gawked. “I’m right here.”

“So?” You shrugged, smiling innocently. “At least he tastes sweet.”

“Oh my god,” Younghoon mumbled, getting up to throw the cookies into the garbage can. 

Meanwhile, Hyunjae was staring at you in a daze, his cheeks flushed. But, he quickly recovered and he was quick to pounce on you, pressing kisses all over you once Younghoon had left.

“A warning next time would be great.”

He was now hovering over you on the couch, caging you under his arms and his computer long forgotten. The position left you flushing but it was also the perfect one to knee him in the stomach.

He winced in pain. "What was that for?"

"A warning, you said," You mocked. "When literally yesterday you kissed me up against a wall in your own workplace."

"That's an exception." He smirked. "You liked it, didn't you?"

"I..." You blushed, remembering the way he had kissed you so fervently, dressed in that suit and tie, the thrill of getting caught still running through your veins. "It was alright."

"Sure, sweetheart," He whispered in a teasing tone. He looked annoying handsome like this, with that amused smile that contrasted his soft, loving gaze. "Then I'll make sure you like this one."

Oh, how you despised him.

And then his lips were on yours again, swallowing up any shy noises that threatened to escape you. But just before he did, he had whispered three quiet words against your lips.

"I love you."

And how you loved him too.