#readings into “proof” of something or other

[unvrsoflyly]

Simple.

— content: 1.4k, fluf, gn reader, pre established relationship (can be seen as platonic ngl), modern!au, horribly bad at design choices phainon mentioned, HAPPY PHAINON BC HE DESERVES IT☹️☹️, miiight be ooc bc it was written on a whim and i really focused more on his silly little happy guy persona more for this one, eng is not my first language + NOT PROOF READ so be ready for errors😔

note: hi hiii!! omg posted two ff in a year, shockers! hope you like this one, i wish there was more phainon content with how brainrotted i am so i made smth, might not be super super good bc erm i always write when im tired, anyways hope you enjoy this little thing one week before his banner! (him and his lightcone WILL come home.)

! art creds to hoyoverse (honkai: star rail)

Moving in with Phainon felt oddly simple. So eager to share his space with someone he loves and excited to see parts of his partner’s mundane life under the same roof as his. It was only going to be three days since they moved in. There’s boxes half empty still scattered around the apartment. The furniture is all in its place, but it looks so stiff and out of place in the new environment.

Phainon makes the new domestic feelings of living with a significant other so easy. Waking up to a simple good morning in person, not by a simple string of words on a screen. Watching each other’s routine before heading out for their respective responsibility. Laughing because of how horrible the new recipe cooked together looks. Lazing around the house in a comfortable silence with no pressure to express unnecessary thoughts. They know they could get through the eventual challenges that will come their way together, no matter the difficulty.

So, it’s not a surprise to wake up to a happy boyfriend almost every morning, but today he seemed more enthusiastic (if it’s even possible…) “We’ve been working all these days to make it our home, but it’s missing one thing” is what he said before falling asleep, promising to organize an activity. A surprise. He won’t even slip one word. Is he planning to show his newly bought decorations? As much as Phainon is a sweetheart, his choices in aesthetics are really peculiar. It was endearing, yes, but who would want eventual visitors to be met with a blasting mess of colours.

Either way, today’s the day to find out his scheming. Nothing was out of the ordinary. He usually woke up first because he liked to do a little run around the block. He’s mostly doing this these past few days to look around the place. He seems to know a bunch of things now: restaurants, cafés, small shops, parks and even some people living close by. The sound of a door opening made you head to the entryway. Tuff of slightly damp hair from the exercise is the first thing you can see while he removes his shoes. There’s a small package beside him.

“And me who hoped you’ll finally join me on a small run today” he sighs. He won’t push more, he’s more on the active side but would never force it on anyone, though sometimes he wished you would move a bit more to keep a healthy body. “Keep dreaming, it might end up happening” you laughed, eyeing the package. “Did you eat something before leaving? I cut some fruits if you want” he looked at the plate in your hand, filled with the fruits he remembers picking for you, thinking it would be refreshing for the start of the summer season. He thanks you while taking a piece of apple and heads to the living room with his mysterious new purchase.

His voice gets you out of your questioning daze. “Yesterday, I ran into a small shop selling some arts and craft supplies. I thought it would be fun to create our own matching mugs!” You remember mentioning to him how silly it would be to do them once you move in together. He got a bit flustered knowing he would get teased over his design choices though his eyes showed how excited he was to the idea. He was always willing to do silly couple things if it meant passing more time together.

You head closer to where he was putting down the blank mugs and the variety of paints. You decide to go take a cup of water for the little paint brushes still in his hands and some worn out towels to clean them in between colours. He installed some of the decorative couch pillows on the floor to sit down on. You looked at the big amount of supplies for two people spread on an old towel with familiar cartoonish faces of an old childhood show (he insisted on keeping it.) Not like you were completely broke, but you were still figuring out the whole ‘depending on our own source of income for survival’ thing, so you wondered if he took it from his personal savings just to be safe.

You sat down and put the plate of fruits aside, waiting for some sort of instructions. All he did was let a little laugh escape while putting the mug in your hands, giving you the green light to let your creativity free. Only one rule: paint the mug he will be using.

You started painting simple forms with pastel colours, easier to make them fit with each other. While he was painting, he shared bits and pieces of what he encountered this morning. A young boy heading to school who looked at him the wrong way (maybe because he purposefully chose those horrendous flashy socks that he swears are practical and fashionable), an elderly woman who’s been praising him ever since he helped her with her groceries or the dog he saw at the park on his way back.

You wondered what he could be painting with such a focused expression on his face, his brow’s knitting lightly and you could swear he was close to sticking his tongue out. You knew arts wasn’t one of his strengths, but he was willing to try and learn. If it’s from his heart, it will hold more value then any piece you can buy. Over time, stains of multiple shades are all over the towel accompanied with the mess spread on the skin of your hands.

After a while, the sun was fully up in the sky and by that time the masterpieces were dried enough to do a reveal. Phainon insisted on seeing yours first. He sneaked a look every now and then, he couldn’t wait to see how it turned out!

You held his mug out. It was a simple field painted like a talented young child would do. There were flowers and trees covering the ground decorated with a beautiful sunny sky with bits of clouds. At the front, there was a dog with white fur and blue highlights leaning its head on a greyish cat sitting beside it. Your friends often compared him to a very loyal dog. In that case, you would be the cat. Calmer, more reserved, but still very affectionate to the people you cared for. You wanted to make a scenery reminiscent of his rural hometown. He told you many times how he cherishes this place and growing up there made him who he is today. It’s not much, but you hoped you gave him a bit of his home from the glimpse you saw the first time you visited.

The shine in his eyes tells you enough: he loves it. He hugs you exclaiming how cute this is! And how adorable the both of you would be as cats and dogs! He pulls away and puts his hand over your eyes. “It’s not as pretty as yours, but I hope you like it still.” He finally hands you his masterpiece and removes his hand obstructing your vision.

You are met with a wonky ‘I ♡ my bf’ with an equally awkward self portrait of himself as a stick figure inside the heart. He always teased that he would buy a set of personalized shirts like those, whether it’s going to be stay at home clothes is up to you, but you know he would wear that proudly. You were drawn right beside it, with some sort of pointy arrow to signify you are the one saying this loud and clear. You stifle a sweet laugh before looking up to meet clear blue eyes already fixated on you, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Soooooo.. do you like it?” You nodded before leaning in for a hug.

He did make the big step of living with a significant other for the first time easy, or at least he tries to. He’s always so eager to spice up the day and make it special, even if it’s one of those mundane repetitive days. He doesn’t expect you to necessarily do things the exact same way, but you are sure you’ll try to show your care in your own ways, in ways he will understand like you understand his.

Yeah, moving in with Phainon is simple.

thank u for reading! - all rights reserved, ask before reposting somewhere or doing a translation

[owe-143]

✩Dating Zoey hcs!✩

A/N: She's such a cutieee. i love her yall. ty for requesting!!

Warnings: uhh not proof read ☝🏽

Fluff☁⭐

Zoey x Huntr/x!Reader

Requested by: @cherrii-11 !!

>Zoey was likely the first person you bonded with when joining Huntr/x

>dating her is an absolute blast. never a dull moment

>you both work on songs for the group together

>Always hugging you/ holding your hand

>due to her people pleasing tendencies, she will try to impress you in anyway she can

>doing things for you and such (even things you can happily do yourself)

>gets worried that she isn't enough for you

>yall have self care days--painting each others nails, hair styling, massages etc!!

>you two eat everything before performaces

>she's sooo in love with you bro

>biggest yapper on the planet. so like just listen to whatever she has to say

>she will obvi listen to you talk for hours

>you both watch sad kdramas, cuddle and cry over them😭😭

>If you both are rappers, you'll def have rap duets together

>finds the positive in every negative situation

''This colour looks so bad on me'' You sigh,glancing away from the mirror. Zoey shakes her head. She moves you back in front of the mirror before, speaking

''It is not bad. The colour is something different and makes you look 1000 times more unique''

>Nicknames she calls you: sweetie, pookie, her soulmate yk??

>Will be SCREAMING for you if you have a solo performance. She is crazy supportive

>she's just a really awesome person to be around in general, so dating her is a blast!!

[ao3commentoftheday]

Firstly, please allow me to thank you for all that you do.

My ask is this, how do you and your followers reconcile with possibility of being trapped by your own work? I want to branch out and write originals, which i have done previously and uploaded to my blog but traffic to them was slim and i quickly realized that it’s a big ask for people to want to read a story when they come on a social app. I recently wrote a fic that i uploaded to ao3 that is within the same fandom but not related to the character i typically write for but my own ocs. I had one hit. I was overcome with the feeling that i cannot exist creatively outside of this character that i’ve been writing for for the last 3-4 years, that I’ve pigeon-holed myself and left no contingency plan for the future. I cannot do any other type of art the way i do writing, it gives me the most challenge, the most joy and the most reward. And i thought i was of the mind that i didn’t care if no one read my work, but now seeing it reflected back to me on the screen, it stings and i cannot but feel embarrassed, discouraged, disheartened and frustrated.

I'm so sorry that it's taken me so long to reply to this ask, and I'm even sorrier that you were feeling like this to begin with 💗 I hope that this was a momentary crisis and it hasn't continued, but in case it has:

You are so much more than the number of hits that you get on AO3. Your talent can't be measured by hits or kudos or comments. Your creativity isn't trapped inside a single character, and the more that you stretch yourself and grow the more you'll be able to feel like that's true.

Embarrassment and discouragement are the natural reactions when you share something you've worked on and get relative silence in response. I've felt disheartened and frustrated too in a similar situation.

From what you've written in this ask, it feels like you've lost confidence in your writing. You're worried that you can't do this thing that you love to do so much. You're looking for "proof" in the hits and other numbers - reassurance that you're a good writer. Reassurance that you can write outside of that one thing.

I've written before, and I'll never stop saying it - AO3 stats will not give you that reassurance, and if they do, it won't last long. To get the kind of reassurance and support that will help you regain your confidence in branching out, you really need someone (or multiple someones) that you can have ongoing conversations with about your writing.

Maybe it's a writer's group IRL. Maybe it's a discord server. Maybe it's your best friends in a group chat. Maybe it's your mom. Whoever it is, whoever they are, they'll have the context of knowing how nervous or uncertain you feel and they'll also know you well enough to know how you need to be supported.

I hope you've already figured this out in the intervening year since you dropped this in my inbox, and I really hope that you're still writing all of the things that you love to write.

[tywrites]

heavy | mateo manta

pairing: mateo manta x gn!reader

word count: 1,360 (not proof-read)

warnings: reader is implied to have depression

a/n: okay so this is really bad since i haven't written in quite a long time but!! i love him and i Needed to write something abt him. i desperately need more mateo fics lmao. hope you enjoy <33

-----

You rolled over in your bed, the usually comforting plush of your mattress feeling awfully cold today. You sighed, closing your eyes and quietly hoping to just fall back to sleep. Things had been… difficult recently. Losing your job had definitely taken its toll on you – on your mental health in particular. Even when working from home, you still had to make the time to leave every so often and interact with the real world. But with everything that had happened recently with the dateviators, you hadn’t been able to leave at all.

Of course, you still had the objects. And they were great company! Most of them anyway. But it didn’t stop you from feeling a bit… alone sometimes. You sighed softly, finally accepting the fact that sleep wasn’t coming. You looked over to your end table at the dateviators. You had a lot to do. It was really overwhelming, honestly. You hadn’t even met all of the objects in the house yet, let alone made any progress towards realising any. You had made a lot of close friends through them though. And even one very special, different relationship…

Even just thinking of Mateo brought a slight smile to your face, cheering up your bleak mood ever so slightly. If you’d told yourself a few weeks ago that you’d soon be dating your blanket… well, considering your track record with love, it wouldn’t be all that surprising.

You bit your lip, reaching over to the dateviators. You popped them on, blinking at the warm, pink hue that enveloped your vision. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to this. In a second, Betty had materialised in front of you, perched on the edge of the bed – or uh, on the edge of herself. She gave you a soft smile.

“How’re you feeling today, gorgeous?”

You made a face. “Well for starters, I don’t feel very gorgeous,” you reply groggily, sitting up as you wiped a hand over your tired face.

She chuckled. “Sweetie, you’re always gorgeous to me. But what’s got you so down? You barely slept last night, or the night before… should I be offended?” She was clearly joking, but there was a definite tone of concern in her voice.

“Nah, it’s not you, it’s me,” you admit, looking down at the sheets. “I just… I don’t know. I feel so… heavy? I’m so tired, all the time. Which makes no sense, let’s be real, I’m doing nothing all day but..” You trail off, unsure of how to word it. “I just can’t sleep though. I can’t relax. I feel so tense all the time and I don’t see a way out of it. Easier to just lay in bed, I guess,”

She looks at you, worry in her eyes. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked. You try your best to force a smile.

“Not really. I think it’s just… something I have to deal with on my own,”

She frowned. “Honey, I don’t think-”

“I’ll see you tonight, Betty. Thanks for the talk,” you said quickly, standing up and heading to the bathroom, leaving Betty sitting on the bed, her face twisted in concern.

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

You’d spent most of the day dodging the other objects. Mateo especially. You just couldn’t bring yourself to talk to anyone right now. You left the dateviators on the table next to you, doom scrolling on your phone until the socially acceptable time to hit the hay. You were planning to go straight to bed, not call on anyone with the dateviators. The idea of bothering any of them, of forcing them to sit and listen to your silly problems was excruciating. But as you settled down into bed, trying in vain to close your eyes and let sleep come for you, there was only one thing on your mind.

You knew how upset Mateo would be if he knew you were avoiding him, especially if he knew it was because you weren’t feeling the greatest. Helping others is what drove him, it was the one thing he took pride in the most. He’d never let you wallow in your own self pity. You glanced at the glasses on your bedside table and sighed in defeat. You slid them on slowly.

You hadn’t even had them on for a few seconds before Mateo was materialising. You didn’t expect him to be right here, waiting for you. He was usually in the living room, caring for the inanimals. That man never took a break. When you saw the worried expression on his sweet face, you wanted to break down there and then.

“Ah mi vida, finally!” He said, sitting down onto the edge of the bed. “I’ve been waiting for you all day,”

You flushed in embarrassment. So he’d been watching your pathetic display of self-loathing, huh? “Sorry, Mateo… I’ve just been, um, tired,” you said, avoiding his eyes. If there was anything in this world that could make you immediately spill all your darkest secrets, it was Mateo’s big, brown eyes.

“I’ve noticed… my love, I’m worried about you. Betty came to me earlier and told me you haven’t been sleeping. Is that true?” He asked tactfully.

“Betty said that?” Betrayal, you thought.

“She was worried. Honestly, a lot of us have been worried. You haven’t been acting like yourself for a while now. If there’s anything I can do, anything at all, you know you just have to ask, right? I would do anything for you,” he said, a small blush rising to his cheeks. “I mean, I’d hope you’d know that…”

You finally look at him, truly seeing the concern on his features. His bedhead was especially messy today, as though he’d been running his hand through it every five seconds. His usual easy smile was replaced with a small frown and you realised something. In that moment, you would do anything to see that smile again. As you were preoccupied with gazing into his eyes, Mateo took this opportunity to place his hand over yours. His touch was feather soft as his thumb gently traced the back of your hand. You could almost feel your anxiety melting away.

You finally spoke.

“Mateo?”

“Yes, amor?”

“Could… could we cuddle?”

You ignore the burning in your cheeks and make your request, looking down at his hand still on yours. You focused on his touch. His touch seemed to make many things a whole lot easier.

At your words, a huge grin took over Mateo’s face. “You never even have to ask,” he said, bringing your hand up to his lips and placing a soft kiss onto the back of it.

You manoeuvred yourself so there would be room for Mateo beside you, turning so your back was towards him. He wasted no time in enveloping you in his arms, pulling you into the comforting warmth of his chest. His face snuggled into the crook of your neck and he took a deep breath in.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed this. The inanimals have missed you too…”

An arrow of guilt hit you right in the heart.

“I’m really sorry, ‘Teo… I-”

“You have no reason to be sorry, amor. Look, I can tell you’re struggling right now. And there’s nothing wrong with that at all, you have nothing to be ashamed about. But you have people around you that can help share your load, okay? You taught me that when we first met. When you bottle it all inside, it’s just too heavy for one person to handle. I want to help you. Please let me,”

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You sniffled, wiping them away as quick as you could but they just kept coming. Mateo brought up the sleeve of his plush duvet jacket, wiping away the tears as they trickled down your face. You both said nothing. You laid there, wrapped up in Mateo’s arms, feeling more safe and secure than you had in a very long time. If Mateo was there to help you hold it, maybe things could be a lot lighter from now on.

[shysuccubusstuff]

Helping Hand

Content: Non proof-reader; Android! Caleb + Overstimulation + Fake cum + Size difference + Dacryphilia + Praise kink + Aftercare

Summary: You chose to buy one of those new androids in the market, after all, with the little time you had, it was logical for you to get one! But after your birthday party, you can't help but feel like something has changed within Caleb...

Note: I'm finally done with exams but now my brain is dry... On another note, I have to keep on writing my novel! It has nothing to do with my usual work here, but I really should keep on writing cause I have so much ideas for cool characters! Wish I could draw them... I hope people get the ideas of how Android! Caleb lower half works...

Note 2: I just put some fake nails and writing has become so difficult... Had to use two pens towards the end...

Android! Caleb who opens his eyes and encounters your face. He was programmed to be cold, always following the orders of the person who bought him. At least, that was what he had learnt, as you soon rebooted his whole system, changing his personality to a softer and more "human" one. He is still quite confused, why would he need to have a personality for serving a human? Still, he couldn't help but feel a strange rush of electricity run through his system, maybe he had a strange type of malfunction?

Android! Caleb who becomes accustomed to taking care of you. He is always close to you, always waiting by the door of the house a few minutes before your arrival, food still warm and waiting for you to eat, the house completely in order from him cleaning it... Gosh, you could even feel all the tension leaving your body as soon as you entered your house. You allowed him to carry you to the bathroom, head resting against his soft chest as you let him undress you, letting your clothes carefully folded as he helped you get inside the lukewarm bath.

Android! Caleb who becomes your only caretaker. It took him less than a few days to get completely used to your body language, knowing exactly what you wanted, when you wanted it and even how you wanted it. He was basically reading your mind, always one step ahead, letting you rest your exhausted body on his bigger body, his soft hands caressing your hair as his mechanic heart kept pumping the blue liquid all over his system. You knew you shouldn't get so attached to him, but how were you supposed to stop yourself from it when he knew you like the palm of his hand?...

Android! Caleb who receives a strange update. It had recently been your birthday, so you decided to make a small party, nothing big, really. You invited a few of your friends from work, together with some other friends from when you were still studying, organising a small party at your house for all of you to drink and have fun while watching some low-quality films. It was around 3:00 when you started to feel your eyelids dropping, with your friends too focused on the climax of the film for them to notice, you chose to simply fall asleep in the cozy sofa, surely someone would wake you up sooner or later, right?

Android! Caleb who becomes much more... domestic. You didn't notice the first few days, still unaware of the strange update your friends had added as a "gift" for you. Yes, it was a bit strange for Caleb to always greet you with a hug and a kiss on your forehead, but hey, maybe it was something that they had added in one of the millions of updates Caleb had, maybe some client had complained about them being too stiff? Whatever, it wasn't as if you were particularly concerned about it, in fact, you did like it a bit...

Android! Caleb who finally puts his update to good use. It was late at night when you suddenly felt the urge to do it. It wasn't something particularly strange, with you being alone most of the time and all the stuff you liked reading and listening... What was strange was the moment the door to your bedroom was knocked. You quickly hid your naked lower half with the sheets trying your best to get your phone to hide the content you were seeing. "Caleb?" You whispered, heart beating rapidly in fear of having been discovered by him. "Pips? I'm sorry for disturbing you so late at night, but my systems have warned me that my owner, that is you, is currently in need of my assistance." You furrowed your brows, slightly confused about what was he even implying, still, you knew Caleb was unable to cause any harm to you, so you simply sighed, letting him enter without much thought. "So what was wrong, Caleb?" Caleb smiled, sitting close to you and petting your hear with his rough hands. "My system told me you needed my help, do you need it? I have been upgraded with the latest system, allowing me to help you in this kind of delicate activity." Still confused, you simply nodded, after all, the system tended to be right. As soon as you did so, Caleb removed the sheets that were covering your body, his huge hands lifting your legs with ease, getting them closer to your face, just enough for your slick pussy to be in front of his face.

"Caleb! Just-- Just what are you doing?" You tried your best to get him to let go of your ankles, squirming around with not much luck, with Caleb still retaining his sweet smile.

"I'm fulfilling my new tasks, you allowed me to do so." Caleb's arm moved, changing his grip on your thigs to keeping your body in position with just his arm. "Now, no more moving, pips, I need you to remain calm so I can help you appropietly." Caleb's tongue stick out, this time looking slightly longer than usual, his right hand making his way to your entrance as his mouth got closer to your clit.

"Wa--Wait a second! I'm pretty sure this was NOT included when I bought your model--!" Caleb stopped for a second, his expressions remaining as sweet as always.

"It wasn't. Your friends added it to my program in hopes of making you happier, they explained it to me and I agreed. I believed it would truly help you destress. I hope I will actually ." Caleb moved closer, spreading soft kisses all over your lower tummy, making a small path towards your pussy. At the same time, his hands started to glide towards your entrance, teasing it with his fingers by simply gliding up and down on it but never actually inserting them, simply coating his fingers with your lewd fluids. "Let me know if you feel any discomfort." Caleb's mouth slowly got closer, wet kisses being left around your clit as a way to tease your sensitivity, being unable to not smile after seeing your back arch from the sudden touch. Following the set procedure, Caleb slowly entered one of his fingers, circling your clit with the tip of his tongue and making you cling to the sheets, soft whimpers leaving your mouth even despite you tried to cover your mouth with your hands as a way to avoid letting even more shameful sounds escape. Suddenly, one of Caleb's hands moved, grabbing your wrists with ease and pinning them on top of your head. "I need to hear you so I can know exactly what you need." Caleb moved, his face now facing yours before diving himself into a deep kiss, his right hand still playing with your clit, making short circles around it regardless of your poor attempts of squirming away.

"Ca... Caleb! Too much-- it's too much!" You whispered, chest puffing up and down as you tried to recover from Caleb's kiss.

"My name is not the safe word, you should probably know that." Caleb suddenly switched positions, letting your back rest against his chest, his legs tangled around yours to avoid letting you try to close your legs, his lips kissing yours as he moved one of his hands to your chest, playing with your nipple as the other hand kept slowly moving inside you, searching for that sweet spot until you let a whimper escape you. "This must be your g-spot, right? Gotta make sure you enjoy this." Caleb kissed your face, peppering soft kisses all over your face as he slowly introduced another of his digits, his fingers constantly hitting that spot even as you kept trying to move away from him, with Caleb simply laughing softly against your ear, pushing his fingers even deeper inside. "You're so cute... Humans always react so vividly to the stimuli..." You could't help but feel embarrased, with Caleb's mocking tone reverberating inside your head as he kept forcing you to cum around his fingers, using his other hand to pinch and twist your nipples with just enough force.

It had been over 20 minutes since your sweet torture had begun, with Caleb moving and hitting the exact place you were craving, forcing you to close your eyes from the overstimulation. "Caleb~... That's enough... I don't think I can cum more..." Your voice sounded now raspy from all your whines and moans, with Caleb obviously ignoring them, simply cooing you.

"That's alright, then we can finally move to the main course, right?" Caleb finally let you move a bit, getting up and removing his trousers, leaving them on your chair before returning to the bed. "Let me syncronise my tools, alright?" Suddenly, Caleb's lower half changed from the usual plain surface to the shape of an erect cock, his . "Let me just..." Caleb got on top of you, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist, moving his hand to grab his cock and starting to rub it against your entrance, letting some of his self-lubricating fluid just for extra caution. "I'll do it slowly, open wide now, pips." You took a deep breath as Caleb's cock entered you, softly biting against his shoulder as a way to stay calm. "Such a good girl... Just a bit more." And you could simply whine, your insides already feeling as if they were about to tear as Caleb finally bottomed out. "So good for me..." Caleb caressed your cheek, kissing your forehead as he started to move, barely moving a few centimeters before pushing back in, nails digging on his back as he kept pressing his body against yours. "Just a bit more... It will feel so good in just a few minutes..." Caleb pressed your mouths together, sucking on your tongue before starting to french kiss you, a strand of saliva connecting you both the moment the kiss ended.

As the minutes passed, you were finally able to get used to his size, the slight discomfort changing into pure pleasure, making your eyes roll back each time he rubbed that spot. "You feel so nice wrapped around me... Let me help you a bit baby." Caleb lifted your body with ease, laying your body on your front before moving back on top of you, his cock entering you, the pressure of his weight making you bite on the pillow that was close to you, whinning as Caleb's hand made light pressure on your lower stomach, just enough for you to start feeling his length even more, each thrust making your walls wrap around his cock, the system of Caleb slowly getting overheated each time you clenched around him. "Be careful... My system may get a bit overwhelmed if you keep clinging so much to me..." That was of course easier said than done, after all, it had been such a long time since you had been able to feel so good... Still, you tried your best, taking a deep breath and hugging your pillow, a few tears falling down your cheeks as you felt your mind slowly slipping away.

"Too big... You're crushing me~..." You whined, the heat radiating from Caleb mixed with the feeling of having your insides scrambled being enough to make your head feel overwhelmed. Regardless of that, Caleb kept going, his hips bumping against your ass each time he forced his whole length inside you, his hands petting your hair whole he whispered soft praises against your ear.

"So good... Cum all around me pips, show me just how much you're enjoying this..." Caleb's raspy voice echoed inside your mind, the embarrasment of having your own android seen you so fucked dumb suddenly leaving, letting you only focus on how much you wanted Caleb to praise you... So of course you did just as he asked, your gummy walls pulsing around his cock as you felt a warm liquid filling you up, forcing you to cum for who knows what time, toes curling as you felt Caleb increasing his rhythm at the same time you came, then slowing down as he felt your breath become even heavier.

After letting you recover your breath for a few minutes, you felt Caleb lifting you up from the bed, carrying to the bathroom with ease and letting you rest inside the warm bathtub and using a soft towel to scrub you, removing all the sweat together with the mixture of his cum and all your fluids. He then left for a few minutes, returning with a huge towel, wrapping your whole body around it before taking his sweet time drying it. After that, all you could remember was te warm embrace of Caleb, mixed with the fresh smell of a new set of heet together with the citrusy smell that emanated from him.

[xylatox]

It was an accident i swear…! || cyj

Serene’s first ever crack fic?? Honestly so excited to read it because her fics usually are more serious plot wise (imo) so im super excited to just see her writing from this point of view. I genuinely enjoy unserious media because its just you having fun you know? Anyways, unto my thoughts!

Your mascara has run down your cheeks, undoubtedly making you look even more of a mess than you felt – it wasn’t like your meek paycheck covered a water-proof one, hell it barely covered your rent. 

Love this sentence, specifically the end for how casual it is. Also her stumbling over the poor homeless guy??😭

“Holy fuck.” It’s a man’s voice, he sounds alarmed, and you fucking hope he was, seeing as he’d just hit you with his big piece of junk car. 

This is just my type of silly humour. The entire Jet 2 Holidays sound is constantly playing in my head as I read this.

“My fucking car– Shit, this is my most expensive one!” He whines into the phone as he leans over you to rub at the car hood.

😭😭😭????? Yeonjun please be so for real. Also super unrealated but this reminds me of Love To Hate You, the vibe feels the same, in terms of the comedic aspect and that genuinely brings me so much joy.

“I was beginning to think you would never peel those eyelids open”, he mutters as he swings his legs over the edge of the mattress before standing up and approaching you. 

Crazy words from the man who literally hit a poor girl with his car.

“Your boyfriend’s been worried sick”, she then says without skipping a beat. — Yeonjun’s cough is almost comically loud as he brings a hand to his mouth, very obviously aware of your beyond baffled expression.

Literally went oh my god out loud. This is so silly, i mean there was no other way Yeonjun wouldve been allowed but still, its so silly and I love it.

“Darling”, he exhales against the side of your face, “You must’ve hit your head pretty hard.” He glances toward the nurse, sending her an apologetic smile and completely ignoring your protesting huff. “She gets a little disoriented at times.” 

I think in these moments I wish biting was more socially acceptable, genuinely I’d just be feral honestly.

“What happened that night, it was an accident… And you don’t go to court over accidents.” 

Man if someone ever told me this madness I think id like crash out or something

“My car hydroplaned and she was walking toward red.” 

Oh my god

His eyes drop to your round cheeks, the skin soft and smooth – just waiting for him to pinch it and make you squeal. Then his attention shifts to your lips, despite being slightly chapped they were still oddly enticing to look at and Yeonjun catches his tongue darting out to wet his own.

As insane as everything is i think its kinda cute

“At ease soldier, the enemy is still far”, you drawl as you throw him the blanket. 

I think i genuinely really love the mc’s personality.

“Alright. Then we’ll beg the elderly lady next door for some.” 

Would love to know if anyone has actually done this and if they were successful

“You uh…” He clears his throat, his voice low and uncertain. “Gonna stain my shirt…” He murmurs as you snivel against the fabric. 

Oh my god Yeonjun what the fuck😭he really grasps the whole rich lacking compassion well; and I mean its because of the environment theyre grown up in but my god, have some compassion. I love that the mc’s response is still sharp despite the circumstances 

“You’ll be wiping my shit, bitch.” 

I laughed out loud, Serene how do you come up with this

The kiss genuinely catches me off guard but its cute (and surprising).

“Yeonjun! What did I say about warning me when you have hookers over?”

Please tell me this is Taehyun oh my god. Oh my god it is😭😭

Serene this so fucking chaotic oh my god. Kai as the opposing lawyer, Gyu as the most unserious judge(???) on earth. This is something straight out of a dream I swear.

“But I’m intrigued, and I don’t even wear mascara.”

The sheer absurdity of all this is getting to me

Your yell echoes out in the courtroom, making everyone turn your way. Beomgyu nods, motioning for you to proceed. 

Im so stupid. Her yelling objection reminded me of a game and i  literally searched “that one law game where they yell objection” yeah apparently im thinking about ace attorney and ugh, my brain hurts (in a good way) from how silly this is

Also seeing the word reckon get used is making me giggle for no other reason than my brain automatically thinks theyre like southern or cowboys

The 2nd kiss is probably my favourite because everything is so chaotic as they just talk after and theyre just fine that they got kicked out because what else as you supposed to do right?

And thats the end! Serene this was funny to me and honestly I loved it. I have a really silly/stupid immature kind of humour and this fic feels like those videos where it says “something to take the edge off”, yeah, thats what this fic is to me. Just silly ridiculousness honestly.

— 𝖨𝖳 𝖶𝖠𝖲 𝖠𝖭 𝖠𝖢𝖢𝖨𝖣𝖤𝖭𝖳 𝖨 𝖲𝖶𝖤𝖠𝖱... .ᐟ

𐔌 💥 ꒱ Yeonjun didn't mean to brutally hit you with his car. It was an accident, he swears! He will do anything if it means avoiding a lawsuit — as the consequences, which is him losing his inheritance of his father's company, would be fatal. But when you struggle to make ends meet on a daily basis, the problems of a high income taker seem minimal. "Steal from the rich and give to the poor." And it seems Yeonjun is more than willing to pay the price for his mistakes.

⋮ 🎬 ⋮ 𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖱𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦: chaebol!yeonjun x poor!reader (f) 𝖥𝖤𝖠𝖳𝖴𝖱𝖤𝖨𝖭𝖦: assistant!taehyun, court judge!beomgyu lawyer!kai & lawyer!soobin

wc : 16.2k

𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖳𝖤𝖭𝖳 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦 ⚠︎ [ car crash, descriptions of injury and blood, cursing, fake-dating, strangers to enemies to ...?, kissing, lots of tension between the mcs, crack fic ]

🎙️ yello yello, I'm slightly nervous to post this — mostly because I've never written something like this before. my writing isn't as descriptive and in depth as you're used to, the characters are also a lot more lighthearted so it might be somewhat of a switch. so please don't expect too much writing wise — the pacing might also be a little off (?),, I also haven't proofread this at all >< oh and I didn't research at all for the court scene but trust me I will be doing that for criminal conscience lolsies.. but please please comment/reblog/send asks with your thoughts and opinions afterward, that would make me so incredibly happy! I hope it's still an enjoyable fic despite it not being what I usually do, love you lots <33

note, this fic started as a joke to spite my friend cam,, so when I say it's unserious I mean it.

SOME LONESOME WEDNESDAY AT 10:25 PM

The rain bats against your naked arms as you pull them tighter around yourself, a pathetic attempt at keeping the blistering cold away. Your mascara has run down your cheeks, undoubtedly making you look even more of a mess than you felt – it wasn’t like your meek paycheck covered a water-proof one, hell it barely covered your rent. 

On top of the ungodly weather, you had been held back at work for another two hours, making it your third day of overtime this week. Not only did that mean two hours less sleep tonight, it also had you running down the wet pavement as you hoped to catch the last train home. In your haste you’d forgotten your jacket, and despite it being late april, the air was freezing.  

And it was only Wednesday. 

Your steps echo down the vacant street, rain pouring over you like that of a cold shower turned on at full force. Keeping your head bowed as you squint, you focus on your worn out sneakers as they move forward – and in spite of the rush you were in, you still carefully avoid stepping on the cracks. 

The screen of your phone quickly becomes covered in wet droplets when you pull it out, your eyes widening tenfold as you check the time. “Three minutes.. I can make that..” You deluded yourself into thinking you had a chance, your legs were already aching but you still geared up into a jog. 

Your surroundings become a blur, the buildings you pass blending into one another as the dim street lights prod at the corner of your eyes. — Suddenly your foot catches on something, causing you to stumble forward. The shout of what could only have been a most miserable homeless man rings in your ears. But you don’t stop to check on him, merely yelling out a “Sorry!” over your shoulder as you keep going. 

Maybe if you had been more attentive that night, if you had bothered to check your left twice, maybe things would have turned out differently. The red light blares in front of your face, signaling for you to stop, a clear warning sign. But you ignore it. Hell, it was nearing 10 pm, the street was vacant – and you had a mere two minutes to spare. 

You go for it, water splashing around you as your feet hit the road crossing. You’re halfway across, the subway sign ahead illuminating your way – filling your desperate self with hope for the first time today. Your bed was just three stops away, warm and dry, a night's sleep and a freshly brewed cup of tea awaits you. 

But then, just as you think you’ve made it, a light brighter than that of the street lamps suddenly floats into vision. It starts out small, a tiny dot in the corner of your eye. But as it grew in size you quickly came to understand that the source was heading straight toward you – and fast. You barely have time to react, but the sound of screeching tires is deafening, and it’s then you realize your mistake.

It doesn’t hurt at first, but you can clearly feel the heavy vehicle as it rams into you from the side. You hit the ground, it’s cold and the silence that follows is loud. It takes you a moment to comprehend just what had happened. Then pain flares up, and you immediately forget about the cold and the rain. Because it felt as though your entire body was on fire. 

Your breath, previously knocked from your lungs due to the sheer force of the crash, returns and you gasp for air. The once tiny dot of light is now all you see, and it makes you squint, it feels as though you were put under a spotlight, on show for everyone to look at and possibly even applaud, if they wished to. 

The sound of a car door closing echoes into the air, and soon you can make out approaching footsteps. “Holy fuck.” It’s a man’s voice, he sounds alarmed, and you fucking hope he was, seeing as he’d just hit you with his big piece of junk car. — “Shit”, he murmurs under his breath, “No… No I don’t know, she’s not moving…” Was he talking to someone on the phone, the emergency services?  

There’s a brief moment of silence, and all you can think about is how much everything hurts, you were sure you could feel your fucking bones. And even if you wanted to scream, not a single sound would make its way past your bloody lips. 

“What the fuck do I do?” The man hisses, but it’s clear that he isn’t addressing you. You can hardly make out his face, just the faint shadow of his silhouette as he stands above you. — “Oh my god”, he gasps, and you feel your stomach drop, bracing yourself for whatever doomsday news he’s about to deliver. “The paint is chipped!” The man suddenly exclaims and for a short second the consistent pain vanishes and you frown. 

What?

“My fucking car– Shit, this is my most expensive one!” He whines into the phone as he leans over you to rub at the car hood. Your mouth falls open, there is no way he was being serious right now. You quickly understand that he was not on the phone with emergency services, or anyone of importance for that matter. 

Your cough is what finally catches his attention again – blood follows and you cringe at the metallic taste on your tongue. “Oh fuck..” He murmurs as he crouches down next to you, his trembling hand placing against your forehead. Was he checking your fucking temperature? “I’m so going to court for this..” He says as he fiddles with his phone, bringing the device to his ear and emitting a shaky exhale as he waits for his next call to go through. 

This better be 911, you thought with a small grimace, wincing as another flash of pain shot through you. — He’s talking, but you can hardly make out the words, apart from an occasional “shit” or “fucking, fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

At least he knew how to curse. 

After that, everything went dark. 

10 MINUTES EARLIER 

Yeonjun’s fingers drum against the steering wheel as he waits for the light to turn green. He sighs, leaning back against the leather seat as his eyes flicker across the vacant streets. The faint buzzing of his phone, coming from the passenger seat catches his attention. He bites back a groan, leaning over and reaching for the annoying device as he swipes to accept the call coming through. 

“Yes?” He drawls as he inspects his cuticles in a bored manner. — “Where have you been all day?” Taehyun’s voice is just as strict and accusing as it always was, despite the late hour. Yeonjun rolls his eyes, his feet pressing the gas pedal with a little more force than necessary as the light finally signals green. 

“Always so happy to see me, are you?” He hums, earning himself a scoff from the other man. Taehyun mutters something unintelligible under his breath before sighing. “You’ve missed two meetings, one dinner and five important phone calls”, he lists them as though he’s reading off of a powerpoint, the monotone yet scolding edge to his tone slicing through the call. 

Yeonjun bites the inside of his cheek, his brows furrowing as his finger taps the back of his phone. “So, reschedule them?” He suggests to which his assistant snorts. “To when? – You’re fully booked all of this week, and the next, then there’s the ball on the 29th not to mention-” — “Alright! Alright! I get it”, Yeonjun cuts him off with a heavy exhale, “Tell them I was sick, or… I don’t know, make something up.” 

A moment of silence follows and Yeonjun watches the raindrops as they race down the windshield, an impassive expression on his face. “You’ve used that excuse three times this week already”, Taehyun stubbornly reminds him and Yeonjun has to fight the urge to just hang up on him. 

“You’ve got to start taking things seriously”, his assistant says, “Taking over the business when your father passes won’t be easy, and it’s…” — “Best for me to get as much experience as I can so that I’m prepared for when the day comes, I know”, Yeonjun finishes with a heavy exhale. 

“Yes, precisely”, Taehyun hums. 

Yeonjun nods, not that the other man could see it – a sense of dread settling within the pit of his stomach at the thought of overtaking such a huge role. His eyes dart from building to building, his nose scrunching at the cheap architecture of the area. Responsibilities had never been his forte, in any sense really. Neither was paperwork or mingling with important people and pretending to actually be interested in a single thing they had to say. Yeonjun often wished he hadn’t been the only child to come out of his parent’s loveless marriage. It would’ve been nice to share the burden with someone else. 

The sound of Taehyun typing away at his computer echoes through the call, the persistent noise only adding to the overwhelming feeling coursing through his chest. He sighs, trying his best to relax and focus on the road ahead, not noticing the growing acceleration of the car he was currently driving. “What’s on my agenda for tomorrow then?” He begrudgingly asks, regretting the question as soon as it passes his lips.

Taehyun quickly goes off to list his schedule for the upcoming days, but all Yeonjun can hear is his future being carved out in stone before him. Meeting this, dinner that, small talking here and chatting people up there. It was exhausting. 

He pinches the bridge of his nose, blinking once, twice to shake the sleep from his already drooping eyes. “Are you even listening?” Taehyun asks, his sharp voice clipping him across the face and making him jerk in his seat. “Hm? Yeah, meeting at 11 tomorrow?” — “10”, his assistant corrects and Yeonjun groans. 

“Are you headed home?” He then asks to which Yeonjun hums. “Yeah I’m…” But he can barely finish his sentence before the car suddenly shifts on the road. “Shit!” He curses, but it didn’t matter that his foot hit the brakes with a force that could’ve easily snapped his ankle in half, it wasn’t enough to stop the car in time, the wet road throwing the vehicle into hydroplane. — The screeching noise of the tires ring in his ears, the thud of what could only be another person hitting the hood of his car and then the ground is deafening. 

The car jerks as it comes to an abrupt halt, but it’s far too late. 

For a moment everything is silent. Only the sound of rain batting against the windows can be heard, and Yeonjun watches with his heart in his throat as the windshield wipers continue their pathway back and forth over the glass, as though nothing had happened. “Yeonjun? Are you there? What happened?” Taehyun’s voice, now lacking any sense of composure, is coming from the floor, for he’d dropped his phone in the haste of it all.

“Yeonjun! Answer me!” He demands, and only then is the older male snapped out of his trance as his hands let go of the steering wheel. “What happened?” Taehyun hisses on the other line and Yeonjun winces as he brings the device to his ear once more. 

“Fuck…” He exhales, his voice trembling as he speaks, “I think I just hit someone.” — “And… oh my god my car!” 

FOUR DAYS LATER 

It’s bright. Really fucking bright. The sharp light stings your eyes, making you squint as you peer up at the sterile ceiling. This was so not the afterlife – because if it was, you most certainly wouldn’t be hooked up to a beeping machine and laying flat on your back on a small and hard hospital bed. 

The constant chatter of nurses surround you, and it was to your greatest dismay that you realized you hadn’t even been granted the luxury of your own room. Separated only by thin, teal curtains you glance to the other patients occupying the room. — There was an older man opposite you and two beds to the right, he was staring silently ahead as a nurse tended to his plastered body, it covered both his legs and arms, making him essentially imobile. Upon glancing down at your own plastered arm you suddenly realized that you might actually have been in for more luck than you’d thought – unfortunately for you, it was your dominant hand that was out of order. 

Still, you could perfectly wiggle your toes, and you were relieved to find that your legs obeyed your every command. With a small sigh you lean back against the lonesome pillow provided by the hospital. You glance around, trying to find out where you could possibly be – hopefully not somewhere too expensive, you were already indebted in every aspect of your life, a broken arm was not going to be next on your list. 

Clearing your throat, you try to call for one of the nurses, but before you can even raise your still working hand, the curtain to your right is dramatically drawn aside. The sudden action makes you jump, your mouth falling open in a scream that never leaves your lips. 

“Fucking finally, you’re awake!” A man you did not recognize, occupies the empty bed next to your own, you weren't sure that was even allowed – he hardly looked ill… At least not physically. “I was beginning to think you would never peel those eyelids open”, he mutters as he swings his legs over the edge of the mattress before standing up and approaching you. 

He was handsome, no doubt. The jet black hair on top of his head fell across his face in even sections, framing his already sharp and prominent features. The grin that stretched across his lips displayed a set of perfectly white and straight teeth, almost uncannily so – and his eyes sparkled with what you thought to be relief as he came to a halt by your bed. 

“I’m sorry… Who are you?” The question comes off almost stingy, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t place the man into any of the awful categories of people in your life. The man’s expression falters for a moment, his grin falling as his dark brows raise on his forehead. “What?” He echoes, and he sounds almost in disbelief. “You… Do you not remember what happened?” He then inquired, and this time he came off almost excited – he was probably ready to feed you a bunch of bullshit lies.

You scoff, averting your gaze for a moment as you let yourself recall the events leading up to your unfortunate and current predicament. It was embarrassing to say the least, and you remember the pain, the air being knocked from your lungs, the blood and the bright lights. — Your silence is not well received by the man as he immediately goes on another rant. “Well if you don’t then that’s fine – it wasn’t anything serious really, you just-” His voice was awfully familiar, and the longer you listened, the more pieces fell into place. 

“You.” 

The blunt accusation cuts him short and you turn to him with narrowed eyes. “You fucking hit me.” You jab a finger to his chest, making him grimace as he scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “Ah… I see amnesia wasn’t the case then..!” He nervously chuckles to which your frown only deepens. “Excuse me?” 

The man clears his throat, straightening out his shirt before reaching a hand out to introduce himself. “Sorry, I should've probably done this from the start… I’m Yeonjun, Choi Yeonjun.” Your eyes linger on the expensive watch that wrapped around his delicate wrist, then to the perfectly ironed shirt he wore, the brand foreign to your eyes. In fact, nothing he wore was something you’d ever see at the local markets you did most of your shopping at, it was all put together and neat, down to the very detail – which could only mean one thing. 

This guy was absolutely loaded. 

You take his hand, the handshake becomes awkward as you’re forced to use your left hand, seeing as he’d completely immobilized your right one. His grip is firm, and it surprised you, because truthfully he looked like a wimp. But the action in itself feels formal, as though it was something he did on a regular basis. 

Your silence has him holding onto your hand a beat longer. “Not going to give away your own name?” He asks to which you nod toward the foot of your bed, “Says right there doesn’t it?” you mutter unenthusiastically. Yeonjun chuckles, shaking his head as he lets go of you, “She makes jokes I see.” — You send him a nasty grimace in return, but he hardly seems offended. 

He then takes a small step back, creating as much distance between you as the narrow space would allow. But when he glances over his shoulder, his demeanor suddenly switches. It takes him about half a second to have the curtains pulled around you once more, shielding you from the crowded room and leaving the two of you alone. 

“Listen”, he says as he approaches you once more, and this time there’s not a drop of charisma to his voice. In fact he looks almost like he’s about to tell you a secret that might have the both of you beheaded.  “About that night–” He begins in a hushed whisper but is abruptly cut off by the sound of the curtain he had just so meticulously closed, being yanked open. 

A small nurse appears by the opening, the white hat sitting awkwardly atop her head, as though it was too big. She flattens out her robe when she steps inside, a friendly smile plastered onto her face. “I see you’re finally awake!” She exclaims as she grabs the clipboard hanging by the foot of your bed. That was the second time someone had said that, just how long had you been knocked out? 

But you don’t get to ponder that thought any further as the woman takes place on the other side of your bed. “You can imagine it’s been a rough couple of days”, she says whilst shoving the clipboard under her arm to mess with the IV drop attached to you. “Your boyfriend’s been worried sick”, she then says without skipping a beat. — Yeonjun’s cough is almost comically loud as he brings a hand to his mouth, very obviously aware of your beyond baffled expression. 

“My what?” You question, your brows shooting high on your forehead. The nurse turns to you with a perplexed look, her face faltering for a moment, as though she had said something out of line. But before you can further object, Yeonjun has grabbed ahold of your shoulder, pulling you against him in one quick motion. 

The scent of his expensive cologne hits your nose, making you almost dizzy as you brush against his chest. “Darling”, he exhales against the side of your face, “You must’ve hit your head pretty hard.” He glances toward the nurse, sending her an apologetic smile and completely ignoring your protesting huff. “She gets a little disoriented at times.” 

“Oh– Of course”, the nurse nods before shaking her head once, as if coming back to her senses. The remainder of her stay is spent in silence as she quietly checks your vitals, not oblivious to the tension lingering in the air as your eyes practically burn holes into Yeonjun’s figure – the latter, on the other hand, seems completely at ease as he watches the nurse work with an impassive expression, his arms folded neatly across his chest. 

She leaves as soon as she’s done, quickly excusing herself and closing the curtains behind her once more. You don’t waste as much as a second, quickly pushing yourself into a sitting position as you try your hardest to yank the IV from your arm, it proved quite the challenge as your right hand was completely fucking useless. 

“Woah there”, Yeonjun suddenly springs into action as his fingers clasp around your healed arm, keeping the needle safely in place, “I don’t reckon that’s very safe.” — You scoff, brushing him off but refraining from touching the drop again. “I don’t reckon hitting me with your car was very safe either.” 

The comment has him biting the inside of his cheek as he takes a step back. “Touché”, he says as he runs a hand through his dark hair, his eyes darting across the small and makeshift room you were currently in. — “Ahem..” The clearing of your throat hardly deters him as he steps toward the IV drop, watching with great intrigue as the droplets slowly transfer through the plastic tube. 

“I reckon you’ve got some explaining to do.” 

“Hm?” 

Yeonjun cocks an eyebrow as he turns your way, his hand placed thoughtfully under his chin. “Do I? You seem to remember just fine”, he drawls to which you frown. “I’m not talking about the crash-” — “Accident.” Yeonjun firmly corrects. 

“What?” 

“It was an accident. Don’t use the word ‘crash’ it’s too vulgar”, he shudders as he lets his hands drop to his sides. “Besides”, he then says as he takes a seat on the edge of your already narrow bed, “Accident’s make for better sob stories.” 

You regard him with a look of disbelief, your brows pulled deep into a frown and your lips slightly parted. “Are you being serious right now?” You scoff, but the determined expression on Yeonjun’s face didn’t once waver – causing you to groan as you avert your gaze. “Alright, whatever. I wasn’t talking about the accident, because it was a crash – I’m talking about the whole boyfriend thing, what the fuck is up with that?” 

Yeonjun shrugs as he fiddles with the expensive looking watch on his arm. “Oh, that small detail? They wouldn’t let me stay until you woke up unless I was family – figured boyfriend was as close as I could get.” He then glances at you with a small frown, “What, are you a lesbian or something?” 

Your jaw slacked, half in disbelief and half in offense to his sheer audacity. “I… No? But why would it matter if I was!” You shake your head, blinking twice as you try to make sense of your current situation. “You’re telling me no one here knows you’re responsible for my arm being fucking encapsulated?” 

Yeonjun huffs, “Alright now you’re being dramatic. It’s just a cast, you’ll have it off in a matter of weeks.” — “Weeks?” You shriek, “I can’t even type on a computer with this, how am I supposed to work?” 

The man tilts his head to the side as he watches you with slight confusion. “So? Just take a couple of weeks off – I basically gave you a free vacation.” He then adds with a sly grin as he pats your knee. You resist the urge to quite literally kick him off the bed. “It doesn’t work like that. I can’t just take time off work, the rent won’t pay itself.” Well, his probably did, you thought with a bitter grimace. 

Yeonjun shifts on the bed with a small sigh, “Listen, I’m sorry about your arm alright – but it’ll heal. What I’m here for is to discuss something of far more importance.” He says as he turns to face you, his expression suddenly morphing into a most serious one. “What happened that night, it was an accident… And you don’t go to court over accidents.” 

You frown as you listen to his words. “What? You’re asking me not to sue your ass?” — Yeonjun rolls his eyes but you catch the flicker of hesitation behind them. “Well, yes, something along those lines.” He runs his fingers through his hair, grimacing as they catch on a strand before he continues. “How do I explain it to someone like yourself..” He murmurs thoughtfully. 

“I’m not an imbecile”, you spit. The comment has him raising a brow as his lip twitches, “Your brain scans beg to differ.” — “What?” But Yeonjun only shakes his head as he bites back a chuckle. “Alright”, he begins as he straightens his back ever so slightly,  “Supposedly, I have a reputation to uphold”, he says with a small shrug, “Nothing serious, just my future and my career depending on it.” He glances toward your injured arm, then over to the scowl plastered onto your face. “And this situation… Let’s just say it won’t look good for me to go public with it.” 

“So you’re begging me not to sue you?” 

Yeonjun frowns, “I wouldn’t use the word ‘beg’..” 

“I would.” 

He rolls his eyes, folding his arms across his chest as he throws one leg over the other. “Fine. I want to settle this without involving more people than necessary, how about that?” — You regard the expectant look on his face, from his calculating eyes to the subtle twitch of his defined jaw. Your financial situation was already bound to take a blow from this, not to mention that you might even lose your job. There was no way you were just going to let this man walk away with his pockets full and his ego still intact. 

Take from the rich and give to the poor. That was the motto you strived to achieve. 

“Alright..” You slowly begin, watching as his eyes lit up and his head jerk in your direction. There was something undeniably satisfactory in his already celebrated victory – and you have to push down a small smirk. 

“How far are you willing to go?” 

25 MINUTES LATER 

“Come on – I think I can see the top!” You excitedly exclaim as you lean forward. The late afternoon breeze caresses your face, instantly bringing a smile to your lips as you bask in the warm air. Behind you, Yeonjun pants, his heavy breath fanning across your neck. “You’ve said that these past ten minutes now”, he groans as he continues to push you forward. You roll your eyes, not caring for his unenthusiastic attitude. “Well, I mean it this time around!” 

What was probably meant to be a snort comes out as half a whine, half a whimper as Yeonjun begrudgingly pushes the wheelchair up the steep hill. “I don’t… -pant- get it… -pant- your legs are.. -pant- just fine.” His complaints were nothing but background noise to your ears – still, you glance down to your legs, swinging them back and forth to further prove his point. 

The hospital grounds were a lot more terrained than you had initially anticipated, and what had started out as a walk around facilities, had ended with Yeonjun struggling to push you up the large hill that had caught your eye. The wheels of the wheelchair caught on snares and rocks, making it quite the bumpy ride, and you had to grip the armrests tightly with your one good hand to not fall overboard. 

“Mind where you’re going! You’re transporting fragile cargo”, you snap when Yeonjun pushes the wheelchair over yet another branch, causing it to snap under the weight of it all. The man merely scoffs, the sound coming out breathy as he gathers whatever strength he had left. “Fragile my ass”, he mutters under his heaving breath, the words brushing against your neck. “That crash ought to have killed you then.” 

“You wish it did, huh?” 

Yeonjun sighs, “I’m starting to seriously reconsider.” 

Finally, the steep hill pans out into flat ground and with one final push, the wheelchair comes to a stop. Bracing himself on the handles, Yeonjun trembles as he looms over you, panting heavily as he does. “This better have been worth it”, he coughs, completely overtaken by exhaustion. — “We’re about to find out!” You state whilst stretching your legs out in front of you before jumping to your feet. 

“Oh fuck you”, Yeonjun spits as he watches you walk off to inspect the area. You ignore his crude comments, your eyes wandering across the few benches scattered around, none which were occupied. The spot was cozy enough though. With an approving nod you approach one of the larger trees, leaning against its trunk to peer out over the hospital yard. The place turned out to be quite decent after all, the food was good, and your room had been upgraded to a suite - the company however… You glance toward Yeonjun who had taken a seat on the wheelchair, his shoulders slumped in defeat. 

He would do. For now. 

His willingness had surprised you. He really must not want that lawsuit, you thought to yourself as you plucked a leaf from a low hanging branch. Oh well, you would continue to abuse your temporary power for as long as you could – if he could splurge money on a suite then he could surely treat you to a nice dinner as well. 

And who said getting run over didn’t have its benefits? 

“Hey stranger!” You wave him over with your good arm, and Yeonjun reluctantly lifts his head to see you jumping up and down by the nearby tree. With sluggish movements he drags himself from the wheelchair and over to you, his expression already painted with dismay. — “What’s with the long face?” You hum as he comes to a stop before you. 

Yeonjun quirks an unamused brow as he glances between you and the handful of leaves you had picked from the tree. “Oh nothing, just the stock market crashing and my funds losing value while I’m playing nurse”, he shrugs, “But really I’m fine – I’m having loads of fun.” He flashes you a quick smile that drops just as fast as it had appeared. 

“Really?”

“No.” 

There’s a small pause as you both glance out over the hospital facilities, your eyes lingering on the patients out and about as they try to catch the last afternoon sun. The once warm breeze was slowly turning chilly and you could see the sun setting over the horizon. — For a short moment you stopped to wonder what would become of you when you were finally discharged. The call you had to make to your boss upon returning inside would surely not be a pleasant one. How did you explain your previous absence and the one to come? The chances of you keeping your already low paying job were slim… 

“Is this why you wanted to come out here?” Yeonjun suddenly breaks the silence as he crosses his arms over his chest, a displeased look on his otherwise handsome face. “I mean, the view is nothing marvelous – plus it’s fucking freezing.” — “Hm? Oh, yeah.. It’s alright I suppose..” You murmur, your gaze dropping to the ground beneath you. The grass grew wild and untamed, peeking up in uneven sections and brushing against your ankles. 

Your sudden change in demeanor doesn’t pass him unnoticed and you can feel his eyes on your frame as he regards you quietly. “What?” He then huffs, “Don’t tell me I’ve pushed you all the way up here for nothing?” There’s a light-hearted edge to his words but you can also make out the uncertainty behind them – as though the sudden switch in your mood confused him. Accident or not – your financial situation wasn’t his fault. Everything else though… 

“No”, your lip twitches into a small, half-hearted smile, “It wasn’t for nothing.” You say as you walk past him and back to the wheelchair. “Plus”, you throw a glance over your shoulder, “Even if it was – I would’ve made you do it anyway.” 

Yeonjun’s scoff echoes over the hilltop as he jogs after you, “I don’t doubt it.” 

“Are you walking down?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” 

He sighs, “Should’ve never asked.” —  “Wow! Look at you, you’re learning!” 

Though hardly amused by your sarcastic reply, he still waits for you to take a seat. “Don’t let it get to your head”, he grumbles as he grabs the handles and turns the wheelchair around as he begins your shared journey down the hill. You huff as you lean back in the chair, “Whatever do you mean?” 

Yeonjun doesn’t reply as he steers you down the narrow pathway you had originally ascended from, this time with a lot more ease. The sky, now painted in hues of pink and orange, casts you in a warm glow and makes you squint. — Had it not been for your unfortunate situation, you would have probably found the scene quite beautiful. 

“You know..” Yeonjun begins, his voice ringing out somewhere above you, “I actually don’t know shit about the stock market – I made that up.” The admission makes you grin as you shake your head, “I know.” 

“Alright, fuck off.” 

THAT SAME EVENING 

The sound of footsteps echo down the hall as Yeonjun paces the empty corridor. Surrounded by white sterile walls and flickering bright lights, he battles the headache that had been so persistently following him around these past four days. — And Taehyun’s nagging voice certainly didn’t help one bit. 

“Your father is asking for you”, his assistant says in a curt voice. “Did you tell him to check under my bed?” Yeonjun counters, earning himself a disapproving tsk from the other man. “Do you realize how serious this is? You injured someone- If she died you could’ve been charged with manslaughter!” 

“But she didn’t die.”

“That’s not the point”, Taehyun cuts back and Yeonjun swore he could hear the gray hairs forming on his assistants head. “You’ve got to start seeing the consequences of your actions and… Where are you even?” 

Yeonjun purses his lips as he glances down the hallway, “The hospital.” — “The hospital..” Taehyun sighs, “No, of course, Jesus, where else would you be?” He pauses, “Did she wake up yet?” 

“Mhm”, Yeonjun hums as his gaze fixates on the door opposite him. It was only a matter of seconds before you called for him again, no doubt having him perform yet another task that a nurse easily could’ve done in his place. — “And?” Taehyun presses, the sound of his fingers tapping against what Yeonjun assumed to be the table of his office, echoes over the line. 

“And… I’m handling it.” 

“Handling it how? – The last thing you need is a lawsuit after you. If your father finds out about…” His assistant doesn’t even dare finish the sentence as he instead falls silent. Biting the inside of his cheek, Yeonjun leans against the wall behind him, his free hand reaching deep into his pocket as he exhales. He knew all too well what was at stake – Hell, he’d been lucky enough that you didn’t seem to have a single relative to come look for you, leaving him your only visitor these past days. When he thinks about it, the reality of it all was quite sad. But he couldn’t afford to waste his energy on such trivial matters.  

“She won’t press charges”, Yeonjun finally states. The confidence in his voice is unwavering, but it does little to impress Taehyun who scoffs. “You ran her over.” — “Correction”, Yeonjun says with a frown, “My car hydroplaned and she was walking toward red.” 

“You were speeding.” 

“Was not.” 

Silence. 

“Alright”, Taehyun sighs but it was clear that he thought the conversation far from finished. “Did you offer her compensation?” — The frown on Yeonjun’s face deepens, “Compensation?” 

“Money, Yeonjun. – You’ve got enough to waste, and especially if it means keeping her quiet.” 

“Right.” He throws another glance toward the door which you reside behind, the suite had cost him half a fortune, but then, it was a lot more comfortable to discuss private affairs behind closed doors, especially when said affairs regarded his possible career. “I have compensated her, somewhat.” 

Taehyun tsks, “What does that mean?” — “Oh wouldn’t you like to know?” Yeonjun drawls as he flattens out his shirt. The memory of pushing you up that god forsaken hill was still fresh in his mind and his arms ached just thinking about it. A small grimace passes his face as he imagines what you could possibly ask of him next. 

As if on cue, your irritable voice calls for him. For someone currently hospitalized you still seemed to have loads of energy. “Ooooh Yeonjun~” His name coming from your lips alone was enough to send shivers down his spine. 

“Was that her?” Taehyun wonders and Yeonjun suppresses a shudder as he swallows. “Don’t worry about it”, he says. His assistant makes a noise of disapproval, “I’m serious, you have to be careful with-” 

“I’m handling it, alright? – You just focus on keeping my father away.” With that he ends the call and shoves his phone back in his pocket before pushing himself off the wall and approaching the door. He stops with his hand on the handle, gathering the last of his strength as he prepares to step inside. 

The room in itself was grand, with its own bathroom and shower, a Tv and a fat stack of books. It was accompanied by windows that ran from floor to roof, giving the room as much natural light as possible during daytime. Your bed here was a lot bigger too, with a variety of both blankets and pillows. But despite being bathed in luxury, you seemed intent on using Yeonjun as your primary source of entertainment. 

Propped on said big bed, you lean comfortably against the fluffy pillows, a shit-eating grin plastered on your face. “Took you long enough”, you say as your narrowed eyes search his figure. “Where’s my coffee?” — Shit, Yeonjun had completely forgotten about that the moment he’d stepped outside and Taehyun called. 

“Machine was broken”, he shrugs as he approaches the chair not far from your bed. He brushes past the look of disbelief you send him. “Did you even go down and check?” — Yeonjun shakes his head, “No. But they never work in places like these, besides the coffee tastes cheap.” He really was unable to grasp the fascination for such a beverage if it wasn’t brewed to perfection in the comforts of his own home. 

“Cheap?” You retort as you twist on the bed, “What, do you get the beans grinded in your backyard?” Yeonjun shakes his head, “No. I have that done in the kitchen.” — You stick your tongue out in response. He couldn’t quite understand your frustration over such a mundane matter, but he watches as you then flop back down against the mattress with an exasperated sigh. 

There’s a brief silence that follows your short conversation. Yeonjun had realized long before you even woke up that the two of you were very different. He’d spent the majority of these past four days studying you intently. — Your brows grew frantically, like they’d never seen a pair of tweezers, and your lips were chapped. Your nails were short and bitten, the lines on your forehead damn near permanent, as if stuck forever in a slight frown. 

Still, you intrigued him greatly – for reasons still unbeknownst to himself. There was something raw in the way you acted, your words blurting out unfiltered and without a second thought – much like himself, in a way. The only difference was you had the freedom to express yourself without the constant worry of people’s approval. It must be nice, being that uncaring. 

“The fuck are you staring at?” 

Your sharp voice startles him from his thoughts and Yeonjun nearly jumps out of his seat. “Christ, do you intend to wake the dead?” He huffs in an attempt to downplay the fact that his soul just left his body and was on its way up the tenth and final floor. 

You roll your eyes as you regard him with amusement. “Caught you lackin’” — “You- What? No, I..” He shakes his head, tsking as he dismisses you and instead turns his attention toward the black Tv screen. Just as he was about to suggest putting something on, do you interrupt him. — “I’m kinda hungry.” 

“So?” 

“Feed me.” 

Yeonjun’s jaw slacks, his brows shooting high on his otherwise smooth forehead. “What?” He echoes to which you groan. “You heard me”, you point to the large fruit bowl by the Tv bench, “Fetch me those grapes.” 

“You can’t be serious”, Yeonjun grumbles as his eyes flicker between you and the fruit, staring back at him with menace. The smirk on your lips only grows and he feels his heart sink as the reality of his situation dawns on him. — “Come on”, you drawl in a sing-songy voice, “Think about the lawsuit~” 

Those words alone are enough to have him shooting up from the comforts of his chair and walking across the room in order to access the fruit bowl. It’s heavier than he’d anticipated and he almost stumbles over his own feet before reaching your bed. — “Jesus, I bet you weren't picked first in gym class?” You tsk as he places the bowl on your bedside table. 

Yeonjun’s brows twitch in anger as his narrowed eyes find yours, “Alright fuck off.” Though he makes sure not to mention that he was in fact always picked last for football practice – or any other matter that involved some kind of physique. His nine-year old self still lived with a bruised ego, and he would be damned if his 25 year-old self had to live through the same torment, no less by you. 

A flicker of confusion passes his face when you wordlessly part your lips, glancing up at him expectantly. His eyes drop to your round cheeks, the skin soft and smooth – just waiting for him to pinch it and make you squeal. Then his attention shifts to your lips, despite being slightly chapped they were still oddly enticing to look at and Yeonjun catches his tongue darting out to wet his own. 

“Fuckass. Feed me the grapes.” 

The quick and sharp snap of your voice breaks his trance and Yeonjun blinks twice as he shakes his head, “Huh?” You scoff, folding your good arm across your chest as you send him an impatient grimace. “The grapes. What the fuck are you thinking of?” 

Right. Yeonjun coughs as he picks a handful of grapes from the bowl. “Nothing your mediocre mind could wrap itself around”, he spits before shoving a perfectly round and green grape into your mouth. It’s with great satisfaction that he watches you slightly choke on the fruit before angrily chewing it, your teeth grinding together as you shoot him a glare. 

You swallow, “We’ll see how mediocre my lawyer is then.” 

“Funny.” 

“You think so?” 

“Shut up and have another grape.” 

You don’t protest when he shoves the fruit in your mouth, in fact Yeonjun thinks he might’ve even caught a subtle smirk playing on your lips. Whatever. You’ll be back on your feet soon, then he’ll offer you compensation, the case will be sealed off and forgotten about – and his life would go back to being what it had always been. 

“Can you use that fan over there on me?” 

“No.” 

THE FOLLOWING MORNING 

Turns out hospital curtains were shit. Your eyes have barely peeled open and the sun is already stinging them. With a frustrated groan you squeeze them shut once more, intent on getting another hour of sleep. What time was it even, 5am? The bed was comfortable at least, far better than the petty excuse of a mattress you had been sleeping on last night. 

You smack your lips together, cringing at how dry your mouth felt as you swallowed. The pillow felt wet against your cheek and with slight horror you realized that you had probably been drooling. “Ew..” Your attempt at sitting up proved futile as there was something warm and heavy occupying your left leg and greater portion of your right. — Confused, you finally tear your eyes open, squinting against the harsh light as your gaze falls on Yeonjun. 

The frown on your face deepens, your face twisting into a small grimace as you scoff. “Fucking idiot”, you mutter when pushing yourself onto your elbows. Yeonjun, once slouched on a chair, now had his whole torso draped across your legs, his cheek squished against your knee as he snored lightly. 

His once put together hair now lay a mess, a few strands falling across his forehead. The sleeves of the expensive shirt he wore had been pushed up to his elbows, his coat discarded on the backrest of the uncomfortable chair. The warm glow of the sun cast him in bright hues that highlighted the natural flush of his cheeks — his long lashes fluttering slightly as he frowned in his sleep. 

What was he thinking? He should’ve gone home, changed and slept in an actual bed. Did he seriously think you were still suing him? God, you had too much on your plate to worry about arguing with his petty ass in court. — You purse your lips as your eyes linger on his unconscious figure. He looked funny. Slightly… cute, you suppose – he would’ve been a decent 8/10 had he not hit you with his car and immobilized your left arm. 

Torn between wanting to kick him off the bed or watch him sleep just a moment longer, you’re suddenly pulled from your thoughts when the door to your room clicks open. A nurse enters, her robe wrinkled in places and her hair spilling out of the bun she wore, you imagined she’d worked the night shift for she looked absolutely beat. — Her eyes flicker between your unenthusiastic expression and over to Yeonjun’s slumped self. 

A small smile tugs at her lips when she approaches your bed and you resist scrunching your nose in disgust when she says, “Why, aren’t you two the cutest?” — That was highly debatable and you don’t reply, instead settling back against the pillow as she begins checking your condition. You were still in disbelief over the ridiculous lie he’d told. Boyfriend? He could’ve went for distant relative, fuck you would’ve even taken cousin. 

“You’re very lucky..” The nurse begins as she fiddles with the bandage wrapped around your arm. Her voice was filled with adoration and you held back the objection waiting on your tongue. You wanted to argue that you were anything but lucky. From losing four days of consciousness to the possibility of losing your job as well.. All thanks to the jackass shamelessly sleeping on your legs at this very moment.

But the nurse seems oblivious to your silent disagreement, and continues with a lighthearted tone. “He’s never left your side, you know? Barely slept either.” — You give her a tight-lipped smile, nodding quietly as your gaze travels down to Yeonjun by the end of the bed. He’s yet to wake up despite the conversation around him. Pushing the wheelchair must’ve really taken him out, you thought with a small huff. 

“Lucky me”, you mutter. Your un-enthusiasm however, doesn’t seem to disturb your diligent nurse, who despite her rough exterior, works quietly on readjust your bandage. “How much longer until I’m out of here?” You wonder as you try to conceal the desperation laced curiosity of your voice. 

The nurse pauses, her fingers having just fastened the bandage around your arm. “Well, my guess is sometime this afternoon, we need to run another brain scan since you’ve woken up from your coma. If your results come out clean you should have nothing to worry about.” 

Right. Nothing to worry about. You lean back against the pillows with a deflated sigh, must be nice, having nothing to worry about. Your wandering gaze returns to Yeonjun’s sleeping figure, his chest heaving slowly as he takes long and steady breaths. “Bastard”, you mouth with a not-so-subtle sneer, though you quickly mask the grimace with a smile as your nurse gives your shoulder a small pat. 

“I’ll be back to check in on you by lunch time.” She says before heading back out through the door she had emerged from not even ten minutes ago. Once the thick silence of your hospital suite returns, you find that you can’t take it anymore. — “Hey jackass”, your knee twitches under his cheek, making Yeonjun grimace as he mutters a string of unintelligible curses under his breath. 

You groan, yanking the blanket from your legs and kicking him off in the process. Yeonjun wakes with a startle, his eyes wide and alarmed as his hands grip the armrests of his chair. The giggle bubbling in your throat makes its way past your lips without second thought. “At ease soldier, the enemy is still far”, you drawl as you throw him the blanket. 

Yeonjun frowns as he blinks, slowly taking in his surroundings as he realises where he’d fallen asleep. “Fuck”, he grunts as he stretches out on the small chair, “My back is killing me.” His gaze snaps over to you, “Why didn’t you wake me?” 

Giving him a small shrug as you pick at your already chipped cuticles, you say, “I tried — But holy shit you weigh like three tons when you sleep.” You survey his displeased expression with narrowed eyes before adding, “Plus you drool.” 

“I don’t.” 

“Yes you do.” 

“No, I don’t.” 

“Yes. You. Do.” 

Yeonjun sits up a little straighter, the chair creaking under his weight as if to testify to your previous statement. “Who are you to police me anyway? Last I remembered you couldn’t even eat your own grapes.” 

“And whose fault is that?” You counter to which Yeonjun obliviously glances the other way. You scoff, rolling your eyes as you swing your legs over the side of the bed. “Nurse came, she said I’ll be out of here before dinner time.” With a small exhale you let your fingers dance across the soft pillows, remembering your own stale one at home with slight distaste. 

“That’s good news”, Yeonjun mutters as he shifts in his chair, his dark eyes lingering on your hand for a moment. “Yes,” you hum in agreement, yet for some reason the thought of returning to your cramped apartment didn’t seem so appealing anymore. You were hardly getting any more days off of work, which would mean back to business within the day… Which would make today your last one of freedom. 

Your gaze flickers over to Yeonjun who was currently flattening out his expensive shirt and running a tired hand through his tousled hair. “Soldier”, you say, easily garnering his attention and a small glare. But you merely brush past his lack of enthusiasm. With an exhausted grunt you slide off the comforts of your bed, stretching your sore muscles for a moment. “I think we should go explore the vending machine.” 

Yeonjun raises a brow as he, too, rises to his feet. — You snort, “Oh come on, don’t act like you don’t have a few pennies to splurge on poor o’le me.” But he only shakes head, “I don’t keep small change like that.” 

With your hands on your hips you tsk: 

“Alright. Then we’ll beg the elderly lady next door for some.” 

THAT AFTERNOON 

“What? You mean all of it?” 

Your voice is unsteady as you hold your phone close to your ear. Your legs felt like jelly, your knees buckling under your own weight as you flop back down onto your bed. A distressed frown tugs at your brows and you chew your bottom lip anxiously. “How long will it take for them to get it back in order?” 

With a small nod you hum along to whatever the plumber was reciting on the phone. Bunch of difficult terms, but none of them good, that much you knew. “Alright… Does insurance cover it?” 

“Oh.” 

“I see.”

When the line finally cuts the silence of your hospital suite was louder than ever before. You purse your lips, blankly staring ahead as you ponder your next move. Check into a hotel? Expensive. A motel? You grimace. — Scrolling through your pathetically short contacts list only serves as a reminder of how alone you really were. No place to crash, no place to go, no shoulder to lean on when your own was bandaged. 

Before you can completely spiral, the door opens and Yeonjun stumbles inside. He’s clutching a paper in his hand, presumably your discharge one. “Ready to head out?” He asks as he approaches you, though his steps quickly falter upon noting the distant look on your otherwise expression filled face. — “You okay?” 

Are you okay? No one had asked you that question in what felt like forever. It was always do this, get this done before the deadline, don’t forget that.. And when you weren’t being persistently nagged by your boss, there was nothing. Just silence. His expected question shouldn’t feel so… You give a small shrug, but the second you open your mouth to explain, everything just comes tumbling out all at once. 

“My apartment’s fucking flooded”, you sob as your hands come up to wipe away the tears that forced their way down your cheeks. “Fucking stupid water leakage and– everything’s ruined!” Your words are interrupted by hiccups and small gurgling noises coming from deep within your throat. “C-Can’t go there and I… It’s going to be so expensive”, you whine as you shake your head. 

Your chest heaves in tune with your pathetic sobbing as you aggressively wipe at your face. “Fucking– worst week ever! – Can never even.. Catch a fucking break…” You hated yourself for breaking down like this, for not being able to stop the tears that streamed down your face, your voice refusing to obey as you tried to reign in the helplessness to it. 

Yeonjun’s fingers curling around your wrists as he pries your hands from your face is what finally breaks your trance. Granted you should’ve probably had a little more shame than you did, but nothing mattered in that moment and you immediately buried your face against his chest, sobbing your heart out against the smooth fabric of his shirt. 

His arms are stiff and awkward as they wrap around your trembling frame, his hand patting your back in what was probably supposed to be soothing, but it more felt like he was beating a drum. — “You uh…” He clears his throat, his voice low and uncertain. “Gonna stain my shirt…” He murmurs as you snivel against the fabric. 

“Shut up or I’m gonna use it as a tissue”, you huff between sobs. Yeonjun gives a short laugh, like he wasn’t sure if you were being serious or not. Good. He shouldn’t be. 

It takes you a couple of minutes, but soon the tears subside, leaving behind ugly and wet streaks on your face as you pull away. Yeonjun’s arms release their hold on you, though his hands slide down to rest on your hips, the movement probably subconscious, but you were too beat up to even ponder on it, or slap him off for that matter. 

“It’s fine”, you finally say with a shaky exhale as you meet his gaze for the first time since he stepped through the door. Yeonjun slowly nods as he watches you wipe off the remnants of your tears, blinking twice to clear them from your lashes. — “Yeah”, you then say with a firm nod, straightening back up as you glance over at him. 

Immediately recognizing the mischievous glint in your eye, Yeonjun takes a step back as his hands fall from your hips. “What?” He says as his eyes narrow. You shrug, “Oh nothing… It’s just that, since I don’t have anywhere to go for the time being…” 

“No.” 

“It would be very considerate of my boyfriend to offer his couch for a couple of days.” 

You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he slowly realizes that he’s effectively backed himself up into a corner. “Besides”, you add as you present your still bandaged arm, “I reckon I could use some assistance around the house.” 

Yeonjun’s eyes widen tenfold, “I’m not–” 

“You’ll be wiping my shit, bitch.” 

HALF AN HOUR LATER 

Yeonjun contemplated driving you both off the road approximately seven times on your fifteen minute drive home. This was a terrible idea, one you had decided on without consulting him about for as much as a second. Part of him thinks he deserves it — he did hit you after all… No. He shakes his head, fingers flexing around the steering wheel. You were crossing a red light, actively breaking the damn law. And Yeonjun was only going 10 miles above the speed limit. 

He holds back a fifth sigh when your voice breaks the silence for the nth time. “How much longer?” You chirp, your legs moving restlessly in front of you as you gaze out the window. That was the third time you asked said question, and he knew his answer would be of little satisfaction. 

“Almost there.” 

“You said that last time.” 

“You asked two minutes ago.” 

Silence falls over the flashy vehicle. Yeonjun briefly worried that you might stain his expensive leather seats. But he held back any comments about the way your fingers wandered across the dashboard, you seemed intent on leaving your prints everywhere. “Are you trying to pin a crime on me?” He asks as he glances your way. — “Wouldn’t be pinning it on you if you actually committed it”, you snort.

“I didn't.” 

“The law disagrees.” 

God would you just shut up. It feels like pure bliss when he finally pulls into the familiar driveway of his house. The three floors were a most ordinary and mundane sight for him, as were the big and shiny windows covering the side of the building. But your impressed whistle still makes his ears burn. 

“This is neat”, you say as the car comes to a halt, already halfway out before he even has the chance to turn the engine off. “And you’re telling me you live here all by yourself?” You wonder as you go to scour the cars lined up on the driveway, eyeing them each like a potential buyer would. 

Yeonjun hums as he follows you with hasty steps, much like a parent anxiously waiting for their toddler to break yet another vase. Once you notice his lingering presence you turn around, your hands raised in surrender. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my paws off your shiny toys.” — He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, that hasn't aged well thus far. 

Bringing you inside was an undoubtedly even more frightening experience. Yeonjun had never considered just how much stuff he actually treasured within the four walls of his home until you stepped foot on his marble floors. “Shoes off”, he snaps as you mindlessly saunter down the long hallway. You pause, glancing over your shoulder before your eyes drift to the worn out sneakers you wore. With a small shrug you pull them off, a grin Yeonjun knew all too well playing on your lips. 

“Catch!” 

The dirty shoe comes flying before he can as much as blink and he thanked god for his fast reflexes as he manages to catch it. “Fuck”, he huffs as his nose wrinkles in disgust, “Your feet stink.” Your second shoe strikes him across the face before the insult leaving your lips even has the chance to. 

“I’ve been in a coma for four days, thanks to you.” You spit as you fold your good arm across your chest. 

Yeonjun heaves a sigh as he realizes the devastating truth to your words. With a begrudging grimace he motions down the hall, “Bathroom’s to your right.” You send him a quick smile before disappearing from sight. Left alone with one shoe in his hand he contemplates just how long he would have to keep you here until he could finally get you off his back. Then there was the money too… You had yet to ask but he felt it was only right he offered some kind of compensation. Anything to settle it outside of court he reminds himself as he places your dirty shoes next to his freshly polished ones on the shoe rack. 

The sound of the shower echoes throughout the flat, going through all the vacant rooms, following him around wherever he goes. Your presence is unfamiliar, the sign of life beside himself in this house an unusual phenomenon. — Yeonjun busies himself by preparing one of the guest bedrooms for you. He figured you’d want the biggest one. 

He irons the sheets to perfection, gives each pillow a slap across the middle as he organizes them neatly by the headboard. Should he tell Taehyun that you were staying here — or was that better to be kept secret? He drags a hand across his face, groaning into his palm as he thinks back to a time where he wouldn’t have to deal with this. 

In fact — Yeonjun is so busy with setting up the room for you and mulling over if he should make you dinner or not that he doesn’t even register the sound of the shower turning off. Nor does he pick up on your light footsteps as you descend down the hall. The uncharacteristically quiet knock you deliver to the door, despite it being ajar, is what pulls him out of his trance. 

“Yes-” 

But his words get lodged in his throat as he sees you lingering in the doorframe. Your skin is still wet and glistening as you hug the towel tighter around yourself, your bandaged arm hanging awkwardly by your side. Swaying back and forth on your feet, you release your bottom lip with a quiet exhale. “I uhm… Don’t have any clothes with me.”  

“I can see that.” 

God Yeonjun wanted to slap himself across the face. He quickly shakes his head, “I mean– I probably have something you can borrow…” You give him a small nod, and had it not been for your lack of clothes, and the fact that he was actively struggling not to stare like a kid in fifth grade, he would’ve probably relished in your shyness. 

“Just uh, give me a minute”, he excuses himself as he squeezes past you in the doorway, wincing when your arms brush against each other. “When did you become such a prude?” He mutters to himself as he descends down the hall and to his own room. 

Turns out picking clothes for a woman was a lot harder than he’d ever imagined. Yeonjun finds himself in front of his closet for a good ten minutes, wavering between green and blue like it was his finals. Perhaps he was reading into it too much, you weren’t going to care what he offered. He emits a defeated sigh as he glances over his options once more. 

“Pushing her up a fucking hill, feeding her grapes and picking her damn clothes. Could’ve just hired a nanny”, he grumbles with a frown deep enough to touch the floor. He chews on the inside of his cheek, close to just giving up all together and letting you go naked. That would be a sight. No, ew, it wouldn’t. — “Girls like pink don’t they?” He finally huffs as he folds his arms across his chest. Well Yeonjun certainly didn’t own anything pink. 

Red was close enough right? 

“Fucking red?” You echo as he holds out the hoodie to you. Disgust is written across your face and Yeonjun resists the urge to tell you that the piece of fucking red garment was actually worth more than your months paycheck. Instead he scoffs, “You’re in no position to make demands.” Except you were. With a small tilt of your head you send him a look that could be best described as “Oh really?” 

“Fine. Is green better?” 

“... Red will do.” 

You catch the hoodie with a glare that could slice through flesh. Were women always so angry? Yeonjun never lingered long enough to find out. He watches intently as you twist the fabric in your hands, then down to the naked skin of your thighs. 

“Stop staring you perv.” 

“Your kneecaps look weird.” 

“How would you like them squashing your balls?” 

Yeonjun suppresses a shudder at the mere thought, his hands flexing by his sides as he shakes his head. “I brought you some shorts too, not sure they’ll fit though.” He hands you the pair he should’ve gotten rid of five years ago, not that you had to know that of course. — You eye them skeptically, your lips pursed, another comment waiting behind them. 

“Alright.” 

Huh? Yeonjun blinks, his jaw slacking. 

“No buts?” He frowns. 

“No buts.” 

Before he has the chance to speak, you reach for the towel wrapped around your body, undoing the small knot. It takes him about a fraction of a second to realize what you’re about to do. “Jesus woman! Let me flee the scene first”, he says as he scrambles for the door. — Your giggle echoes in his ears long after he’s slammed the wood shut, leaning against it as he screws his eyes together. 

His hand clutches his chest, the erratic pounding of his heart thrumming against his knuckles. “The fuck…” He mutters as he tries to calm himself down. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen women before, or brought them home for that matter. Usually he wouldn’t offer his clothes, they were far too valuable for that. But you left him no choice — which was becoming somewhat of a pattern. 

With slow and heavy steps he makes his way over to the kitchen. The marble countertops feel smooth under his fingers as he drags a lazy hand over the clean surface. Yeonjun never felt like he took the comforts of his home for granted, but with the way your eyes had followed every single line of furniture like it was made out of gold made him reconsider. 

He should probably make you something to eat. That would be the least he could do, right? Only problem was Yeonjun had never cooked as much as a single meal in his kitchen. It stood brand new, just like it had for the past two years. 

“Where are the pans at?” He murmurs as he pulls cabinet doors open. He’d made sure to stock up on appliances, not that he was planning on using them, but they felt like a part of the house decor. 

Once he’s got his hands on a decent pan he tackles his next obstacle. Turning on the stove. He tsks as he reprimands himself for choosing such extravagant and high-tech luxuries. Scratching the back of his head with a small frown he searches fervently for any button, but there were none. 

“It’s a stove not a fucking ipad”, he grunts as he begins tapping the cool surface — flincing when it makes a beeping sound. 

“Can’t believe it didn’t come with an instruction manual.” 

20 MINUTES LATER 

Yeonjun’s clothes felt light on you. The fabric was smooth against your skin and the garment wasn’t heavy. Admittedly you looked like a kid on the soccer team, but that was the least of your problems — not like there was anyone to dress up for around here anyway. 

Having disappeared off to god knows where, Yeonjun had left you to roam his gigantic house. And you did exactly that. The hallways seemed never ending, sparsely decorated with a few plants here and there, who you all noticed to be made out of plastic when you passed them. “Must not have green fingers”, you hum as you twirl the artificial leaf between your fingers. Your eyes flicker down to the expensive-looking vase, “But a mind for money at least.” 

Upon passing an ajar door, you stop in your tracks. Hesitating for only a moment, you push the door further open as you dare a peek inside. The room you find is nothing short of extravagant. With a king sized bed, clad in silk sheets and a carpet lining its perimeter. Windows lined the opposite wall, going from floor to roof, showing off the setting sun as it basked the room in a warm glow. 

It hit you then that he would get to sleep in here every single night, in the comforts and luxury of such a nice home without a single worry about next week's budget. Your eyes flicker over to the dresser opposite the bed, your fingers twitching by your sides. No, you were no thief. Besides, you doubted there was anything worth selling aside from his plastic plants. 

“Asshole”, you mutter as you step back out into the hallway. 

Just then, a familiar scent hits your nose. It smelled just like a house fire. Joyous. — Yeonjun’s curses echo down the hall, the sound of cutlery clinking together making for a terrible beat to back up his vocals. Your bare feet pad toward the source of his chaos, and the scene you arrive at is far from disappointing. 

Yeonjun stands bent over the stove, the culprit of the burnt smell being the eggs he’d attempted to scramble in the pan. Now all that was left was a crisp mess that had lost all its yellow — which he poked at with a spatula. Sweat pearls on his forehead, his expression stuck in a permanent frown as he pours his full attention onto the failed meal he was preparing.

“Need help?” 

He startles at the sound of your voice, having clearly not expected your sudden arrival. Throwing a glance over his shoulder, he finds you watching him with an amused expression. It was impossible to bite back the grin currently splayed across your lips. 

“No.” He quickly retorts, sounding somewhat defensive. 

“You sure?” 

“Yes.” 

You round the marble countertop, stopping beside him as you peer down into the pan. “Smells…lovely”, you murmur, your nose betraying you as it scrunches in disgust. Yeonjun rolls his eyes, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth as he turns to you. Spatula gripped in one hand like a weapon, he folds his arms across his chest. 

“What?” He snaps, clearly unamused by your silent critique. 

Motioning toward the eggs still sizzling in the pan, “You do know how to cook right?” 

“Of course I do”, he grumbles as he readjusts the grip on the spatula, “I cooked… In college.” 

Your gaze flickers between him and the food, your brows rising on your forehead. “I can tell.” 

You take a step forward, attempting to grab the spatula from his hand, only for him to immediately recoil, holding the utensil out of reach as he shakes his head. — “I’ll do it”, you scoff as you take another step forward, caging him against the counter. “No”, Yeonjun protests with another shake of his head, “You’ll burn the kitchen down.” 

“I reckon that’s where you’re headed.” 

He huffs, opening his mouth to bark out another remark — but all that he manages is a yelp when his free hand comes in contact with the scorching hot stove. The spatula slips from his grasp, hitting the floor with a clattering sound as Yeonjun grips his injured hand. You almost laugh, but the pain striking his face made you waver. Why did you feel bad? 

“Fucking idiot”, you snort as you shake the thought away, grabbing ahold of his wrist and yanking him toward the sink. Yeonjun stumbles after you, muttering curses under his breath as you turn on the faucet. “Ow!” He hisses when you bring his now bright red hand under the lukewarm water. 

“Get over yourself”, you mutter. 

“It hurts?” 

You give him a look of disbelief and Yeonjun’s eyes drift toward your bandaged arm, “Fine.” 

He remains silent after that, letting you run his fingers under the water without complaints. His hands were oddly soft and you tried not to think about it too much, that and the fact that you were still holding on to him when he could’ve easily kept his hand there himself. — The silence seems to stretch on forever, making it the most awkward one yet, and that was saying a lot considering what the two of you had endured. 

You avoid his gaze, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you focus your attention to his hand, your thumb smoothing over his palm absentmindedly. You should say something — but for once you can’t find the words. Not a single remark came to mind. 

Yeonjun clears his throat awkwardly, shifting his weight from one leg to the other as his eyes flit between your face and his hand. “I can–” 

“Shut up.” 

He presses his lips into a thin line, likely biting back another protest as he sighs. 

“Do you ever cook?” You ask without looking at him. Yeonjun shakes his head, murmuring out a quiet, “Not really.” 

Glancing at him through the corner of your eye, you find his brows pulled into a small frown, his lips pursed into an almost cute pout. “Then what?” You wonder as you turn his hand under the water. Yeonjun shrugs, sounding almost defeated as he says, “Usually just eat out.” Right. He could afford restaurant worthy meals seven days a week, must be nice. 

“Does it still hurt?” 

“Just a little.” 

The silence returns, it seemed unavoidable at this point — and for some reason it bugged you. He doesn’t say anything when you turn the faucet off, nor does he comment on the fact that you had yet to let his hand go. 

Jesus. 

Yeonjun throws a glance over his shoulder, his failed attempt at scrambled eggs staring back at him from the pan. He turns back to you, his mouth open in a sentence he never gets to finish. 

“I can make–” 

Your lips against his swallows his next words. 

It’s weird. Nothing like the kisses you were used to, it was awkward. His lips were stiff against yours, in fact you don’t think it could’ve even counted as a kiss. It was more a ‘our lips are touching and that’s kinda weird but none of us are gonna pull back’ type of thing. He blinks once, then his eyes flutter shut, his long dark lashes caressing the top of his cheekbone. 

You do the same. 

The moment might’ve lasted two seconds or two years for all you knew. Yeonjun’s hand went lax in your own, his fingers twitching slightly. His lips felt soft, and they tasted almost sweet — like the candy your parents only allowed on special occasions. 

When you finally pull back his jaw hangs slack, his eyes slowly opening as his gaze finds yours. Neither of you speak, and you couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed, weirded out or strangely enough, turned on — or all three. You didn’t even know what you were. 

Finally he speaks, “What was–” 

“For letting me crash here”, you quickly say, your voice coming out a lot shakier than you’d anticipated. 

“And for attempting to cook.” 

He clamps his mouth shut once more, his expression unreadable for a moment before it softens. “Yeah?” He echoes, a small grin tugging at his lips. 

“Yeah.” 

“You kinda–” 

“Don’t mention it again.” 

“...” 

You let go of his hand, pulling back like it had stung you. Yeonjun doesn’t comment on it, but you catch the flicker of disappointment striking his features before he covers it with a sly smirk. “Takeout?” He offers, already fishing his phone out of his pocket. 

“Preferably.” 

THE NEXT MORNING 

The rich slept real fucking comfortable — and as you stretch your limbs out on the mattress, the expensive silk sheets tangled between your legs, you could’ve sworn that at least 23 years of back pain had been cured. Despite it being early morning the sun was already piercing through the thin curtains of the guest bedroom, making you squint against its bright rays. 

Thankfully Yeonjun had gone back to being a self centered and arrogant prick shortly after dinner last night. The kiss was still fresh in your mind, and every reminder was like a harsh slap across your face, more specifically your lips. Luckily he hadn’t mentioned it, and neither had you. It was better to just forget it all together — your situation was messy enough as is. 

With a tired groan, you swing your legs over the edge of the bed, gingerly getting up as you trudge toward the door, nature calling you urgently. 

The house is still silent as you step out into the hallway and you glance both left and right to secure the area before making a move toward the bathroom. Every sound becomes intensified in the quiet morning air and you wince when you accidentally knock one of the vases on your descent down the hall. 

Breathing out a sigh of relief only when the bathroom door closes behind you, you go about your business quickly. Yeonjun lingers in the back of your mind — but not for the reasons he had these past two days. Catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror above the sink, you frown at the state of your face. 

“Jesus, I look like shit.” 

He’s probably disgusted with the kiss — well, all the more reason not to bring it up at least. You would talk to him about finding another living situation for the time being. He was practically a stranger after all. It would be weird for you to keep staying here, right? With those exact thoughts in mind you push the bathroom door open, only for it to slam against something — or rather, someone. 

Startled, you let out a shriek as you come face to face with an actual stranger. 

“What the fuck?” You bark as you take a quick step back, your injured arm hitting the wall and sending a spark of pain through your body. — “Who the fuck are you?” 

“I ought to ask you the same thing.” 

The man, who looked to be your age, says as he peers over at you, the glasses on his nose sitting crooked. Then his eyes flicker down the hall. “Yeonjun! What did I say about warning me when you have hookers over?” He shouts, the irritation in his voice palpable. You were almost too stunned to catch the term he’d used to describe you with. But only almost. 

“Excuse me?” 

He gives you a quick one-over, “You’re excused.” 

Your jaw slacks and you’re quick to raise your good fist. 

“Listen here you little shi–” 

Milliseconds away from getting your swing at the man, you freeze when someone grabs ahold of your wrist. Snapping your head to your left, you find Yeonjun next to you with a conflicted look on his face. “Taehyun”, he says through gritted teeth, his grip on your wrist unwavering, “I see you’ve met my guest.” 

The man, Taehyun, gives you another glass, his dark eyes peering at you through his glasses. His lips part once his gaze lands on your bandaged arm — had this been a cartoon, a small light bulb would have probably been lit above his head right about now. 

“Oh.” 

He immediately clears his throat, reaching a hand out for you to take. Snatching your arm back from Yeonjun’s grasp, you awkwardly extend your left hand, making Taehyun mumble out a quiet apology as he, too, switches hand. The handshake is somewhat awkward, as you both exchange names, and you learn that Taehyun is Yeonjun’s assistant. Figures. He looked like a nerd. 

An awful silence settles over you after that as your unfortunate trio shifts in the hallway. Yeonjun is the first to speak, his brows tugged into a frown as he regards his assistant. “Why are you here? Did my father–” 

“No.” 

Taehyun cuts him off with a shake of his head, “Worse.” 

Yeonjun’s frown deepens, “What could possibly be worse than–” 

“The CCTV footage from six days ago.” 

“Oh.” 

Confused, you glance between the two of them. “Footage of what?” You ask. Yeonjun avoids your gaze like it might blind him, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his sweats as he studies the floorboards beneath him. You turn to Taehyun, an expectant look on your face. 

“The crash.” 

“Accident”, Yeonjun quickly chimes in, though quickly quieting down when both you and his assistant send him a sharp glare. 

Stunned, you blink twice. “Wait, you mean to tell me there was footage of him hitting me?” All this time you had thought it would’ve been your word against his, should you ever bring it to court. And who would trust someone unable to afford their own lawyer? But a video of what had happened that night… It would change everything. 

“Shit”, you say as you turn to Yeonjun who looked like someone had drained the blood from his face. 

“You’re fucked”, you scoff as you give his shoulder a shove. 

Yeonjun shoots you a glare, “Should’ve reversed up on you.” 

You roll your eyes, dismissing him as you turn back to Taehyun with your good hand on your hip. “So, when are we going?” 

“In thirty minutes.” 

“Oh.” 

“I would’ve been here an hour ago if Yeonjun picked up his phone.” 

“Asshole.” 

30 MINUTES LATER 

Court was fucking lit. A little less excessive wigs of course, but the judges were still dressed in robes and one of them had one of those funky little hammers made out of tree, a gavel, your lawyer had said it was called. — Oh right, you’d gotten lawyers as well, epic. Knowing that there was an actual video with hard proof evidence of what had happened that night made you feel strangely at ease. 

“What was your name again?” 

“Kai.” 

Your lawyer did not seem as relaxed — you couldn’t fathom why. 

“Rough day at work?” 

He quirks a brow in your direction, “Something like that.” 

You scoff, “I can imagine. I mean, having to combat that thing.” You motion toward the opposite side of the courtroom where Yeonjun was currently sitting. His arms were folded across his chest, his dark hair neatly styled. He was dressed in a suit, which was a lot more convincing than the simple dress pants and blouse you wore. You had stopped by your apartment on the way, and it was only a miracle that some of your clothes were still intact. 

Yeonjun’s lawyer sits beside him, you think his name might be something on S. He’s talking to him, but Yeonjun hardly looks to be listening, his dark eyes are stuck on you, a damn near permanent scowl on his face. 

You mouth the words ‘Good luck!’ to him. 

‘Fuck you.’ 

You grimace, whatever. He was going down, one way or another. A part of you almost felt a little bad for him. He’d actually been quite helpful these past two days — even though it had all been to avoid your current predicament. Oh well, beggars can’t be choosers. You would take your chances today. 

A loud bang sounds through the room, efficiently quieting down the previous murmur. Your head automatically turns to your right where you find that the bangning noise had come from the peculiar little hammer thing. The judge holding it didn’t look credible in the slightest, with an almost boyish grin on his face and eyes that glimmered with mischief. 

“Ahem”, the man clears his throat, coughing into his closed fists as his eyes gaze out over the crowd. You follow his line of sight, noting Taehyun posted up by the very front row, an anxious look on his face. But when the judge starts speaking, your attention returns to him. — “Good day”, he begins in an overly cheery voice, “My name’s Choi Beomgyu and I’ll be leading today’s trial. Let us commence.” 

The sound of the gavel slamming against the mahogany desk rings in your ears, and the air inside the courtroom suddenly shifts. Kai had given you a brief rundown of your rights and how things worked. He’d informed you what you could say and what you should say. That meant bringing up how you’d exploited Yeonjun for two days probably wasn’t a fantastic addition. 

“Alright, we’ll begin with both sides testifying their side of the story, blah blah— uh, and then we’ll play the provided evidence, mhm, and then… some more questions blah blah..” Beomgyu slams the file before him shut as he leans back in his chair. His sharp gaze flickers between you and Yeonjun, his eyes, despite their mischief, oddly calculating. 

“Listen here, the faster you lot solve whatever happened – the faster we can all skedaddle out of here, and I don’t know about you– but I’ve got someone very special waiting for me at home. And yes, she’s a real woman, not a cat.” — The other judges shift uncomfortably in their seats but none of them comment on the head judge’s oversharing segment. 

“You,” 

Beomgyu’s voice is sharp as he directs it your way and you nearly jump out of your seat upon being so suddenly addressed. 

“Let’s hear it”, he says as he stretches his arms out behind his head. 

You glance over at Kai who gives you a small nod of approval and a look that says, ‘Don’t say anything stupid now’. With a small cough you lean forward, adjusting the small microphone placed on the table in front of you. 

“Uh… So I was walking and–” 

Beomgyu’s yawn pierces the air, somehow overpowering your voice on the mic. He gives you a quick wave with his hand, signaling for you to continue. With a small frown you straighten up slightly. “Well, I was making my way to the subway… It was dark, raining too– and my mascara was running. Do you know how much it stings when you get mascara in your eye?” 

Beomgyu shakes his head, “Can’t say I do.” 

“Oh. Well, that made my sight lessen significantly, and did I mention it was dark too? Yeah so I’m making my way down the street, and I run into this homeless man — completely unprovoked he starts yelling at me, and you can imagine I’ve already had a bad day working overtime, and not to mention my mascara smudging too. Anyway then I–” 

“Objection.” 

You frown when Yeonjun suddenly speaks up, it was the first time he had since you’d arrived here. Beomgyu raises a brow but nods for Yeonjun to continue. 

“This has nothing to do with the accident.” 

Beomgyu purses his lips, as if considering Yeonjun’s words for a moment. 

“You’re right.” 

“But I’m intrigued, and I don’t even wear mascara.”

Beomgyu turns back to you, “Continue.” 

Yeonjun’s sigh is theatrical as he slumps back in his seat and you bite back a smirk as you pull the mic closer to your mouth. 

“So as I was saying, whilst I was hurrying down the street, I came to a road crossing. Now me being a role model civilian and all, I check my left and my right before proceeding. But then–” You pause, glancing around the room as the suspension rose, even Kai is looking up from his papers, his eyes filled with both dread and curiosity. 

“There was light, I’m talking real big flashy ones — and they’re coming fast. There was no way for me to jump out of the way, and before I knew it, something, well more like someone, rammed straight into me.” 

Hushed murmurs erupt amongst the crowd, the judges conversing quietly with each other as their gazes flicker between you and Yeonjun, who was currently adjusting his tie nervously. Beomgyu on the other hand stifled a yawn as he blinked slowly. — You lean back in your seat, giving Kai a small thumbs up which was responded to with a subtle nod from your lawyer. 

“Impressive story telling”, Beomgyu hums as he flips the papers before him, fingers tapping against his desk idly, “You should start a podcast.” Then he promptly shifts in his seat, redirecting his attention to Yeonjun. 

“Alright, take the stage.” 

Not late to bite at the opportunity, Yeonjun practically jumps in his seat as he grabs ahold of his own mic. “Your honor, that is not what happened.” He clears his throat, sending you a quick glare before turning back to Beomgyu. “I as a role model civilian was on my way home after a long day of tiring work. I run a business, so you can imagine that I’m exhausted after a long day.” 

Beomgyu’s brow twitches as he leans forward, “You run a business, what kind? Is it like an ice cream shop?” 

Yeonjuns lips part, “I– No, it’s–” 

“Oh, oh, a children’s store?” 

“No.” 

“Hm. Alright, continue.” 

Yeonjun mutters something unintelligible under his breath, and you watch as his lawyer leans over to whisper something in his ear. He responds with a small nod, his fingers flexing around the mic stand. 

“I was driving home, the roads were practically vacant and I was going comfortably at the speed limit.” 

“Objection!” 

Your yell echoes out in the courtroom, making everyone turn your way. Beomgyu nods, motioning for you to proceed. 

“He was speeding, he had to have been. There was no way he wouldn’t have been able to stop if he wasn’t!” 

“Your honor that is the furthest thing from the truth”, Yeonjun fires back as he glares you down. 

“Then how do you explain it huh?” 

“If you would so kindly allow me to get to the part where my car hydroplaned because of the rain, you would know.” 

“That’s a load of–” 

“Alright!” Beomgyu slams the little hammer against his desk, making you both fall silent as you reluctantly turn to face him. “I reckon we watch the evidence sent in by the state, which would be the CCTV footage from the night at uh… 10:27 pm.”

There’s a slight rustle coming from somewhere to your right as one of the staff workers fiddles with a computer, finally managing to connect it to a projector. Beomgyu leans back in his seat as the footage becomes presented on screen, meanwhile both you and Yeonjun lean forward, eyes glued to the projector. 

With a small bruising noise the video begins to roll. It’s showing the road crossing from a far different angle than you had been witnessing it all. Placed about 10 ft tall on one of the corner buildings, it captures the scene with a fishbowl format. — The whole courtroom is silent, everyone watching intently as quite literally nothing happens. 

Beomgyu’s groan is the first to pierce the still air. “Is there a way to speed it up?” 

The staff member mumbles a quick apology before tapping a few buttons, upping the pace of the footage until a figure makes an entrance. You quickly recognize yourself, drenched head to toe in rain, your arms wrapped snugly around yourself as you dart down the street. Ew, why did you run like that? Whatever. 

You watch your past self run toward the road crossing, barely slowing down to glance left and right before proceeding over the white markings on the ground. You’ve barely made it halfway when the familiar sight of Yeonjun’s car cuts through the screen. It’s coming in at an awkward angle, its wheels locked to the left, testifying that it had actually been hydroplaning. 

The collision echoes on the tape, and the whole courtroom lets out a unified noise of distress, everyone but Yeonjun. It almost hurt even more to watch than it had when he’d actually hit you. 

Beomgyu’s whistle is low and dramatic as he motions for the footage to be rewinded. “Ouch”, he says as he parts his hair with the help of his pinky, “That’s rough.” 

“How the fuck did you walk away with just a broken arm?” He then asks as he glances over at your bandaged arm. You give him a small shrug, “Call it luck.” 

“Well, I think that settles it. — You were speeding, otherwise your car wouldn’t have gone into hydroplane.” 

Beomgyu had already grabbed a hold of the gavel, raising it high as he prepared to slam it against the table when Yeonjun suddenly shot up from his chair. 

“You honor! She was walking toward red!” 

The head judge pauses, arm raised mid air. 

“She actively broke the law!” Yeonjun motions between you and him fervently. 

“Oh fuck off, so were you!” You snap as you, too, leap out of your chair. 

“Well I wouldn’t have hit you if you hadn’t walked toward red.” 

“Well you would have actually seen me if you weren’t speeding.” 

“Ladies–” Beomgyu begins as he raises his hands in surrender, a conflicted look on his face. 

“Don’t you think exploiting me like that for two days was a little too far when you were the first to break the law?” 

“You’re talking nonsense.” 

“Your honor, she made me push her in a wheelchair up a hill!” — “Her legs are perfectly fine!” 

“Oh my god are you still stuck on that?” 

“Yes. Yes I am. My arms ached for days.” 

“So you’re calling me heavy?” 

“In a sense I guess I am.” 

“Your honor, are you hearing this?” 

You turn to Beomgyu, your chest heaving with suppressed anger and injustice as you point an accusing finger Yeonjun’s way. But the head judge is merely yawning, his head tiredly propped up on one hand as he watches the two of you battle it out. 

Kai’s hand tugs at your wrist as he urges you to sit back down. But you merely shake him off, snatching your arm back to wave your hand in front of you dramatically. “No! Don’t silence me!” 

Yeonjun snorts, “I reckon it’d take a lot more than that to shut you up.” 

“You know I’m starting to get real sick of you.” 

“It took you that long to come to the realization?” 

“Can you just shut the fuck–” 

The loud and final bang of the little tree hammer rings out into the room, breaking off yours and Yeonjun’s argument as your heads snap in Beomgyu’s direction. The head judge heaves a tired sigh as he leans back in his chair. 

“This is going nowhere – you both are idiots and off the hook. Now get the fuck out of my courtroom.” 

You blink once, then twice, your gaze darting from Yeonjun, whose reflection was a mirror of your own and over to Kai who looked more relieved than anything. “Wait what?” You dumbfoundedly say as you turn back to Beomgyu. “What does that even mea–”

“It means scram. Go!” 

“God”, he mutters as he slumps against his chair, “I need a margarita.” 

APPROXIMATELY 15 MINUTES LATER 

You stand quietly outside the shut doors of the courtroom you’d just spent an hour in. Your back leaning against the wall and your hands clasped together in front of you, you gaze ahead. The hallway was silent enough to where you could hear a pin drop. 

“Well, this is awkward.” 

“No fucking shit”, Yeonjun scoffs somewhere to your right. He was also leaning against the wall, an equally impassive expression on his face. 

“I can’t believe he kicked us out”, you mutter somewhat petulant as your gaze drops to your feet. 

Yeonjun doesn’t reply as he sighs next to you. For a moment you think he might just pack up and leave, you wouldn’t put it past him anyway. But he doesn’t, instead he clears his throat. 

“So, are we going to address the elephant in the room or?” 

“I swear to god if you’re referring to me I’ll–” 

“You kissed me.” 

Oh. Right. That was hardly an elephant, more like a blue whale on land. You cough into your closed fist, avoiding his gaze like the plague as you debate on how much longer you could prolong your reply. 

“Why?” He turns to you, his shoulder leaning against the wall as he peers at you through his dark lashes. 

“Do I need a reason? Jesus.” 

“Yes, you do.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek before shrugging, “Felt like it I guess.” 

“You felt like it?” 

“Yeah, what else do you want me to say?” 

Yeonjun huffs, burying his hands into the pockets of his suit as he glances over his shoulder. The tension between you two was worse than inside the courtroom itself and in that moment you just wanted the ground to swallow you whole. 

“Listen, I’m not gonna stand here and explain myself to you so you can either–” 

Your words are cut off by his lips on yours. A small strangled noise wriggles its way from your throat at the sudden proximity he displayed, your eyes going wide and your shoulders stiff. Yeonjun doesn’t seem to care as his hand comes up to caress the side of your face, the touch so oddly gentle and tender that you would’ve probably thought you were dreaming if it weren’t for the uncomfortable way your bra was digging into your chest. 

He doesn’t pull away for a long moment, the seconds dragging on far what seemed like forever, but for some reason you find that you don’t want it to end. And when he finally does part from you, his lips hover just a centimeter above your own. 

“Why?” 

You feel him smirk, his breath hot against your own, “Felt like it.” 

“Asshole.” 

“Does that mean I can do it again?” 

“Yeah.”

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[dandelionstep]

I can start listening, I can say hi, I can feel something good, (Little panda McElroy)

The Sameer Project (an incredible and vital aid initiative for Palestinians living in Gaza) is currently running out of money. I encourage anyone reading this to either match my donation of £25 to one of their campaigns:

or otherwise donate what they can! If you just want to share this message without the art, here is my other call-to-action (with proof of donation) without it. (Art is the only way I get any reach, so that's why I added this to the post.)

[blueberryismilk18]

Scandalabra x (GN) Reader Drabbles/hc’s?

Spoilers for Scandalabra

NOT PROOF READ

I have noticed a lack of Scandalabra content so I will try to provide

I apologize for anything that is slightly out of character especially for the Jon Wick parts.

🕯️Scandalabra would make a great boyfriend. He is a man whom enjoys scandals.

🕯️ That being said he’s a listener, on top of being a talker, yeah remember mentioning your favorite food to him don’t be surprised it appears on your table. (And a very upset Mitchell Linn and Daisuke) 

🕯️With that it’s one of the ways he shows his affection. And sharing secrets, to show his more vulnerable side. He is almost always open about stuff… almost..

🕯️In all seriousness he does enjoy some Princess treatment he absolutely adores it. It makes him feel.. special. That he’s worth something, even if his sass and snark won’t let him admit it 

🕯️Though he will do the same right back, it’s just in his nature (despite how annoying his ramblings are) he has a deep and profound feelings for you. He truly wishes to understand why you don’t leave him out like the others (though he does find it kind of hot when he sees you flirting with the others. Like Rebel said themself he’s kinda a “cuck”)

🕯️when he sees you hanging out with Maggie he feels a wave of panic, especially when he finds out it’s regarding him.

🕯️It scares him to no end. The though of you hating him, the though of loosing the one person he didn’t drive away. He had been very open about himself, let himself be vulnerable to you. For a moment the walls he let you break down had built up once more.

🔍Once you and Maggie confronted him about being not who he says he was angry, scared, and sad. He is confronted about being Jon Wick. And he has no other choice but to admit it, his life before.

🧨He couldn’t look at you in your eyes for a few long moments. He felt small, he had mental prepared himself for the worst. He knew it could come. But when he met your eyes he saw nothing but love.

🧨To you Jon Wick or Scandalabra whatever he chose to be, he knew you would stick with him. 

🧨As Jon Wick he would protect you, forever and always. 

🕯️ Even as scandalabra he would always keep an eye on you. He would go to the ends of the earth for you. His love has no end.

[scary-grace]

The Yawning Grave - a Shigaraki x F!reader fic

Tomura and his friends might look like a team of paranormal investigators, but they're actually professional hoaxers -- every episode of their hit show has been faked. The episode they're filming in an abandoned town in a temperate rainforest is no different. At least at first. Rated T trending M in later chapters, found footage horror tropes, filmmaker!Tomura. Title/chapter headings based on The Yawning Grave by Lord Huron.

omens and signs

Tomura wakes up slowly, but he’d rather not be awake at all – and what he hears when the grogginess starts to fade doesn’t do much to change that impression. “I’m not pulling over again, Dabi. Take your Dramamine.”

“How am I supposed to take my Dramamine if I can’t stop hurling long enough for it to work?”

“Maybe we should pull over long enough for Dabi to take his Dramamine and then digest it,” Twice suggests. “No, that’s a bad idea. Let’s make him throw up until he’s empty and we don’t have to stop again.”

“How about we don’t do any of that,” Toga says. Her voice sounds sweet, but Tomura knows just as well as anybody what she sounds like when she’s about to cut a bitch, and it’s a little too close for comfort. “Dabi, keep your mouth closed. Spinner, don’t floor it around the curves. Jin, don’t laugh. Tomura, don’t –”

Tomura pretends he’s asleep. Toga reaches into the backseat and punches him in the arm, at which point he sits upright in a hurry. “What?”

“Tell Spinner to drive slower,” she says, smiling at him, “and tell Dabi to stop talking.”

“Stop talking,” Tomura says to Dabi. Dabi gives him both middle fingers, way, way up. “Spinner has to drive fast. We need to be there and setting up camp by nightfall.”

“Yeah. Otherwise our nighttime shaky-cam breakdowns won’t be anywhere near as scary.”

“Right.” Tomura doesn’t need to be awake for this. He can film a found-footage documentary hoax in his sleep.

Tomura used to be into debunking this stuff. Then he realized that he could make a hell of a lot more money faking it, and have a lot more fun in the bargain. Now, instead of trying to prove that reality really is as boring as it looks, Tomura and his friends have turned their professional skeptic side-hustle into a full-time business faking the stuff they used to debunk. And because Tomura’s still a skeptic at heart, he knows how to skeptic-proof his hoaxes.

First step: Pick a spot that’s no more than locally famous. Find some local legends – there are always at least a few. Case the joint, figure out what type of haunting or infestation would be the most believable, and then make it look and sound as real as possible. Sometimes that means wholesale making shit up, which is fine. Tomura and his crew have gotten called out plenty of times, but they’ve never been caught before.

“I don’t know, guys,” Twice says as Spinner takes another curve at slightly less than warp speed. “I feel weird about this one. That guy at the gas station acted like we were nuts.”

“Gas station guys always act like that.”

“Not exactly like that.” Dabi sounds like he’s speaking through clenched teeth. “He said it was a paper town. Named after that book. But I looked it up before Spinner started auditioning for fucking Formula One, and it’s been on the map since before the book was published.”

The book – ’Salem’s Lot, by Stephen King. Tomura read it, liked it, and then, when he was scanning maps looking for a place to plan the next hoax, he spotted it. A rain-drenched dot on the map, in America’s Pacific Northwest, labeled Jerusalem’s Lot. Same as the town in the book that gets overrun by vampires. “So he named the book after this place,” Tomura says, and Dabi twists around to glare at him. “Come on. Don’t tell me you’re getting spooked.”

“Twice is right. There was something weird about that guy,” Dabi says. “We spooked him, not the other way around. There’s something going on here that –”

Spinner zips around another bend in the road, and Dabi scrambles to roll the window down. “He does have a point,” Toga says, like there’s not rain and wind whipping through the car and Dabi gagging like a cat with a hairball. “There aren’t legends about this place or anything. We’ve gotten the dumb-college-kid treatment a million times –”

“Which is dumb,” Spinner puts in. “We’re not in college.”

Toga ignores him, too. “But that guy looked surprised at first. Then he looked nervous. And he said something weird.”

“Play it back,” Tomura instructs. Toga digs out the camera.

Gas station guy looks like every other gas station guy they’ve encountered, but as Toga plays it back, Tomura watches the same emotions she named cross his face. Surprise, then nerves. “Salem’s Lot is a paper town.” There’s a pause. “Ain’t nothing living up there that’s human.”

“Nice work getting that line out of him,” Tomura tells Toga, who was doing the interview. “It’ll be great for the promos.”

“Nothing living up there that’s human. He could just mean animals,” Twice pipes up. “The more rural it is, the weirder everybody talks. Remember those old guys with the accents?”

Even the films Tomura’s made in rural Japan has featured old guys with accents. They’re practically a genre staple. “It’s true. People use different syntax in rural areas than in the city,” Spinner says. “Still, though. It’s –”

Dabi pulls his head back in through the window and rolls it up. “It’s easy to hear that line as meaning that there’s something inhuman in ’Salem’s Lot.”

“Which is why it’s perfect,” Tomura says. “Don’t crack up on me. Any of you. If something had happened here, there’d be legends about it. Local myths. Something other than an old guy at a gas station talking about paper towns.”

“There’s one reason why there wouldn’t be legends,” Spinner says from the front seat. “If nobody made it out alive.”

Tomura doesn’t expect that kind of shit out of his crew, and for a split second, he wonders if there’s anything to what they’re saying. Then he spots the blinking red light of one of their pocket cameras, and a mic settled down in the hood of Toga’s jacket, and swears. “You all think you’re fucking hilarious, don’t you?”

“You should have seen your face,” Twice wheezes. “We got you so good –”

“How much of it did you just make up?” Tomura snaps. “Did you bribe that old guy while I was taking a leak?”

“No, he just said it,” Toga says. “All the stuff we said is true. And if it spooked you for a second, Tomura-kun, it’s definitely going to spook the audience.”

She’s right. Still, Tomura doesn’t like ending up on the wrong end of a hoax, and he’s pretty sure he knows whose idea this was. “Did you fake being carsick, too?”

“Did I fool you?” Dabi asks – and then Spinner whips around a corner too fast, and Dabi lunges for the window again. The carsickness is for real. Tomura wonders if he can convince Spinner to drive even faster.

They make it to Jerusalem’s Lot just past four o’clock, which leaves them enough daylight to poke around, record some B-roll, and get a few exterior shots in. The guy at the gas station was bullshitting them – there’s clearly a town up here. Houses, a main street, buildings, streetlights, all of it well on its way to being swallowed up by the rainforest. “How fast do you think stuff like this grows in?”

“These are all native plants,” Spinner says from where he’s crouched down, examining a nest of ferns. “This is their optimal environment. So if nobody was cutting them back, this could happen in – a few years, maybe. Most of these buildings are wood. If we came back fifteen years from now, there’d probably be nothing left.

Which means it can’t have been abandoned for very long – well within living memory. Tomura rolls his shoulders, limbering up. “Let’s find an establishing shot and get this done.”

Tomura calls the big shots, but everybody else fills in with smaller ones they think they might need in the editing process. Tomura puts up with two or three extra shots from everybody before they refocus. He should have written a script. What’s going to come out of his mouth is probably going to be pretty stupid.

“I’m Shigaraki Tomura. We’re the League of Villains. Today we’re investigating Jerusalem’s Lot, an American small town – which, according to the locals, doesn’t exist.”

They asked one local. They’ll go back with the camera on the way out and bother some people until they pick up enough footage to make it look like they’re trying to hide something instead of just trying to get away. This is where they’ll splice in Gas Station Guy with his creepy comment. “As you can see behind me, Jerusalem’s Lot is very real – or it was. Join us as we try to figure out what happened here, and if there’s anything alive in Jerusalem’s Lot after all.”

“Nice, boss,” Twice remarks. It’s a good thing it’s cold out. Tomura gets sweaty when he’s on camera, and he needs to air his armpits out. “The mic might have gotten fuzzy because of the wind, but we can dub over it in post, easy.”

“I like the lighting out here,” Toga says. “There are some holes in the canopy where sun will get through. If it’s ever sunny.”

“It’s supposed to be sunny tomorrow,” Spinner says, shivering. “It better be. I’ll freeze to death.”

Dabi rolls his eyes. “Sure you will.”

“I will. And then you guys will probably use my body to jazz up a shot, because you all suck –”

Tomura tunes them out and goes picking his way up what was probably the main street of ’Salem’s Lot. He’s visited a lot of small towns, even more ghost towns, but there’s something different about this place. Maybe it’s all the greenery. Ghost towns in other places fall to dust. It’s not usual to see one that’s actively being eaten alive – or dead – by the woods. People lived here. People either got up and left or they died here. The former, almost always. Tomura identifies a couple houses that look semi-structurally sound as potential filming spots for tomorrow, then makes his way back to the others.

Coming to Jerusalem’s Lot was the right choice, and as they set up camp and build a fire, the League’s mood is good. Unusually good, given the conditions they’re camping out in. “I think this one is going to be awesome,” Toga says, the firelight glinting off her teeth. “This place would be spooky even without the buildings. All the moss and lichen – and the fog –”

“We could do a haunting for this place,” Spinner suggests. “Ghosts and stuff. We haven’t done that in a while.”

“Yeah, the last time was that mansion in New Hampshire,” Twice says. Then he frowns. “We didn’t have to fake that one.”

No, they didn’t. They all saw things in that house, enough for them to scrap the episode and not come back. Tomura has a strict hoaxes-only rule these days. “Ghosts are easy to do in post-production, but for a town this size, we’d need to fake multiple ghosts,” Dabi says. “And if we have that many ghosts, we have to explain where they came from.”

“Maybe an epidemic?” Toga suggests. “We haven’t done disease in a while, either.”

“That would be tough to pull off, unless we invented something,” Tomura says. “They don’t have the Ebola virus up here.”

Nobody likes it when Tomura mentions the Ebola virus. He sees their expressions and decides to pay them back a bit for their bullshit earlier. “There’s always plague, though. Pneumonic and septicemic plague could both kill fast enough that they wouldn’t have had time to get help.”

“Then we should keep an eye out for skeletons tomorrow,” Spinner says. “And somebody’s gonna need to hold Twice’s hand so he doesn’t freak out and drop the camera. Again.”

“That was one time!”

“We can’t fake skeletons,” Dabi says. “We can fake creatures.”

Tomura rolls his eyes. “You know how hard it is to fake creatures. What would we even fake around here?”

“Vampires,” Twice offers. “Like that book.”

“That would be really hard to fake,” Toga remarks. “Isn’t there some kind of cryptid that’s native to this place? Something tall and furry?”

“Yeah, it’s like a –” Tomura thinks back on his notes. “Sasquatch. Or a Bigfoot.”

“We can’t use that,” Spinner says at once. “It sounds too goofy.”

“Yeah, the airport kiosks were selling it on t-shirts,” Twice agrees. “No vampires. No big furry guys. So that leaves – uh –”

“We could try crawlers,” Toga suggests, and Dabi starts to argue. “I know we’ve used them before, but – why can’t there be different subspecies? Crawlers in a temperate rainforest wouldn’t look anything like crawlers in the Andes mountains.”

It’s quiet for a second. “If you guys are going to make me wear the crawler suit again, I want overtime,” Spinner mutters, and Dabi grins across the campfire. “So what are we doing tomorrow, then – film documentary stuff in the morning, crawler stuff in the afternoon?”

“Works for me.” Tomura yawns. “I’m tired. Don’t forget to put the fire out.”

Inside his tent, Tomura sets up his personal camera to record. He’s not sure if everyone else does, too, but they’re supposed to – to pick up any weird things that happen during the night, any inexplicable sounds or shadows, whether they wake up to it or not. Usually it just catches him tossing and turning, and he deletes the footage in postproduction. Tomura unzips his sleeping bag, shuts off his camping lantern, and closes his eyes. This shoot is going to go well. There’s enough here for a solid hoax. Aside from Spinner in a crawler suit, they’re not going to have to make anything up.

Tomura sleeps solidly, straight through the night. He wakes up without an alarm, better rested than usual, and fumbles for his phone, which he’s pretty sure he left on the pillow next to him. The phone’s not there, but something else is, something small and cold and metal. When Tomura blinks sleep out of his eyes, lifts it to inspect it, he finds that it’s a heart-shaped locket, clinging to life on a frail chain.

Tomura’s friends are going to be on their bullshit for this entire shoot, it looks like. Still, the locket’s a nice touch, and if they fuck with the shot of Toga planting it on Tomura’s pillow, they can make it look like it appeared out of nowhere. Even if they’ve decided on crawlers, it won’t hurt to wave a red herring about ghosts.

But when he shows it to Toga, he gets a blank look and nothing else. “I didn’t put that there. I’ve never seen it before.”

Tomura’s about to tell her to cut the bullshit when he realizes that Dabi’s camera is on. No way is Toga dropping the story while she’s being filmed, and Tomura might as well play along. “Take a look at it. Maybe it’ll give us a clue about what happened here.”

“Hmm.” Toga lifts the locket out of Tomura’s hand and starts inspecting it between sips of coffee. “14-karat gold – not bad, but not over-the-top expensive. It’s on a box chain, which is interesting. They’re not as common as other varieties of chain, but they’re sturdy. See how tightly they’re interlocked? Something like this wouldn’t break easily. And the clasp’s still intact. The person who owned this took it off on purpose.”

She glances up at Tomura, eyes exaggeratedly wide. “What’s inside it?”

By this point, they’ve drawn Spinner and Twice over. They and Tomura hover over Toga’s shoulders as she pries the locket open. “There are photos,” she starts, and then her shoulders slump, her voice going small. “This was a kid’s. A little girl’s.”

Toga’s the best actor on the team. The rest of them need to take lessons. “How do you know?”

“On this side –” Toga holds it up, and Spinner digs up his phone to zoom in. “There’s a picture of two people. Based on their age, I’m guessing they’re her parents. And on the other side – that’s her dog.”

“Right. An adult would have photos of their spouse,” Dabi says from across the fire. “Or their kids. Parents and dog says kid. How do you know it’s a girl?”

“How many boys do you know who’d wear a heart-shaped locket?”

Dabi starts ribbing Toga for being sexist, and she argues back that he wouldn’t wear a locket if she paid him, and under cover of an argument that’s only half-staged, Tomura inspects the locket a little closer. It’s definitely a dog on one side of the locket, some goofy mutt-thing with bright eyes and floppy ears, and looking at it pulls Tomura’s vocal cords tight. He’d maybe have worn a locket as a kid, if his sister or somebody else had given him one. And he’d definitely have put a photo of his dog in it.

But Tomura’s got a couple screws loose. His family made that crystal clear. He snaps the locket shut, then cuts off Toga and Dabi’s stupid argument. “Hey. How old do you think this is?”

“Um –” Toga studies it. “Not an antique. More than ten years, less than thirty.”

“That’s within the time frame,” Spinner says. “How did it end up on your pillow?”

Tomura’s getting tired of this bit. He waits a second or three, then calls cut. “We have a lot to do today. Let’s get going.”

They have an evidence bin for stuff that shows up on shoots, but since the locket’s a joke his friends are playing, Tomura doesn’t feel bad about pocketing it. They left it for him, anyway. Tomura wonders what’s gotten into his friends. They’re a lot more into this shoot than they’ve been on other ones, but maybe that’s a good thing. If there’s one thing Tomura’s work has taught him, it’s that every good hoax needs a small piece of truth at the center of it. The expression Dabi’s camera probably caught on his face when he opened the locket is a good start.

taglist: @shigarakislaughter @lvtuss @deadhands69 @xeveryxstarfallx @cheeseonatower @agente707 @warxhammer @handumb @atspiss @f3r4lfr0gg3r @shikiblessed @evilcookie5 @dance-with-me-in-hell @babybehh @boogiemansbitch @baking-ghoul @minniessskii @issaortiz @aslutforfictionalmen @lacrimae-lotos @stardustdreamersisi @koohiii

[star-mum]

hello lovelies, I'm finally free : D

Once again, I'll read it without checking the tags, I'm in the mood for surprises :3

"Isaac Lahey pulled you far away to somewhere secluded" we're starting with SEX !!! pwp? maybe (well not without completely cause i know you, but little plot?)

"which would soon be filled with sweaty assholes" usually it's the other way around

"11. McCall" : O

oh okay not cheating... (said dejectedly)

"his eyes flashing that glowing golden yellow" JAOAOWIAJA W AAAAHH I'VE MISSED WOLF SHENANIGANS (literally giggling and kicking my feet)

"and fuck you senseless, feeling like an overeager dog" derek is an idiot cause this FUCKING RULES !!!!!

"Your gut had shriveled up when you saw that it was one with Scott’s name and lacrosse number on it" Lydia knows EXACTLY what she's doing, don't be fooled

"if it meant that you had been misleading him or leading him on" I think he knows, yes Scott is stupid but he can smell Isaac on us afterwards

(you have no idea how much I've missed these dumb dogs and their dumb abo dynamics)

(I'm also on my ovulation period so very horny) (sorry if tmi)

(if youre not sunny and you're reading this, I am not sorry actually, you chose this)

"She was excited that the two of you would look ‘coordinated’ cheering for your ‘boyfriends’" this was calculated, don't fall for her lies !!!!

"weird spiritual sexual codependency" delicious

"All of it was to make Isaac jealous - to get some kind of a rise out of him" terrible for Scott but he'll live... not the first time this has happened to him

"feeling of his teeth digging into your neck" hihi 🫣🤭🤭

"the first small indicator of his facade cracking" he's the pathetic pussy

"Was supposed to be treasured as yours" 🥺

"knowing that those tights emphasized your thick thighs" FAT READER !!!!!!

"he slashed his claws across your chest, shredding the fabric to pieces" scared is the best way to be horny, Eleanor Shellstrop always right

"you would have been angrier about if not for the very pretty boy currently sucking on your face" sacrifices must be made...

"You have to ‘take it off’ too" please for the love of god, I am NOT fucking you in this dumbass get up, Isaac

"You act like a dumb slut all the time.” SKSKKSKS YEEEEAAAHHH (I love all your readers so much, they're so fun)

"You don’t have to be so mean" QOAJAIAKAN he is SO cute tho

"He wouldn’t take a step in any direction if it wasn’t to stand in your shadow. He didn’t worship anywhere if it wasn’t at your altar" WOWOWOWOWOWOWOW

"Owning a pet meant that sometimes you came off with a few tiny wounds" i love this so much

"cooling the salvia he had left there" this is always my favorite typo in ANY smut fic ever cause it's just proof the writer was going at the speed of light to bring the vision to life (i can fear the frantic typing)

"Get on your knees for me like a good dog" hell yeah

"more than eager to shove his face into the folds of your perfect pussy" every single guy in this show has this energy, they all eat pussy like they're starved

"There was no skill to it" but damn it if he's not giving it his all

"Behave.” “I wasn’t done.” i love them

"beyond human strength helping him to easily lift you" one of my FAVORITE things in this show

"Such a sweet little puppy. Good fucking dog" LOVE IT HERE

"the metal started to crumble beneath his fist" ‼️‼️OJNANAOAKANA HIHI 🫣

"Especially knowing that he would be able to smell that cum on you for hours" another one of my favorite things about this show :3

"Somehow, at six-foot-one, he looked so terribly small" he just has that pathetic sad vibe to him

"I’ll even get you a dog collar with my name on it so that everyone can know you’re mine" HE'D WEAR IT !!!!!!

I LOVED THIS !!! I LOVE IT HERE !!! this felt like coming home, I've missed this

seriously the ending of this semester was so fucking stressful (for a myriad of reasons) I REALLY NEEDED SOMETHING NICE LIKE THIS !!!!

The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty

If you wanna start a fight,

You better throw the first punch - make it a good one.

And if you wanna make it through the night,

You better say my name like:

The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty.

Sub!Isaac Lahey x Dom!Fem!Reader

Summary:

What you and Isaac had going on wasn't exactly public - and whatever it was didn't have a title. Sexual, friendship, two souls entwined and bound to each other in an utterly complicated way.

Whatever. It didn't have a label. The two of you didn't need one.

But Isaac definitely didn't expect to see you showing up to a lacrosse game wearing Scott's number with the name McCall boldly across your chest. All he knew from the moment he saw that stupid shirt on your chest was that the night was going to end with it shredded to pieces.

(He had no clue that was precisely your plan from the start, because you knew how to guide him exactly where you wanted him - every. Single. Time.)

Sub!Isaac Lahey x Dom!Fem!Reader. Best Friends with Benefits (Secret Relationship) to Lovers. Smut/PWP. Set during Season 3.

Word Count: 7,200

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below.

Warnings: this is primarily a smut fic - there is some slight plot; this does take place in a high school setting, but just for the sake of clarity/for the sake of argument, the characters are eighteen or older; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina and breasts (but as with all my fics, the primary pronouns used are you/yours); mention of the reader wearing a skirt;there is some descriptions of the reader being curvy/plus sized (as with many of my fics - and I always just picture Isaac with a plus sized girl) (absolutely no bias there), and there is mentions of Isaac being taller than the reader, but that is based on the assumption that at 6.1, he would be taller than most people; there is also mentions of Isaac lifting the reader due to his supernatural strength, but her back is also supported by a wall so it’s not wholly unrealistic; mentions of background Scott x reader (mostly the reader using Scott to make Isaac jealous and Scott having feelings for the reader that she does not return), and this would have been when Scott and Allison were broken up because I would not do my girl wrong like that (you can even interpret this as Scott using the reader to help ‘get over’ Allison if you want); some non-detailed mentions of the abuse Isaac received from his father (which is pretty difficult not to mention in an Isaac fic); there is some dom/sub themes - Isaac is submissive and the reader is more dominant; Isaac is jealous and possessive - very slight angst because it discusses Isaac’s jealousy coming from a place of being hurt; this is not the first time that Isaac and the reader have had sex with each other; Isaac and the reader have been best friends since before his father’s death (and his werewolfism) and they recently started having sex, and they have a murky situationship; the reader clearly knows that Isaac is a werewolf; mention of Isaac ‘pinning the reader down’ and fucking her (in a memory) (and she loved it); Isaac calls the reader a ‘slut’ and a ‘whore’ - not in a kinky way, but over the fact that he is deeply offended that she was flirting with Scott and pretending to like him; in turn, the reader calls Isaac a slut in a kinky way; the reader also calls Isaac ‘puppy’ and ‘good boy’; hair pulling - Isaac receiving; something like subspace is described (regarding what Isaac is feeling) but the word ‘subspace’ is never used during the fic; the characters do not discuss having a safe word in place, but they trust each other due to their history and know how to nonverbally balance each other’s needs; Isaac using his claws to shred a shirt that the reader wears with Scott’s numbers on it, and in the process he accidentally scratches her chest slightly (but she likes she slight pain); very slight blood kink - Isaac licks up the blood from these small cuts; I feel like there should be a warning for the endless amounts of dog imagery because I cannot stop comparing Isaac to a kicked dog because it works to well; lacrosse pads being used for slut activities; oral sex - reader receiving; Isaac has an extreme scent kink (he loves the way the reader smells); praise kink - Isaac loves being praised by the reader; penis in vagina sex; unprotected sex; (surprisingly, there’s no breeding kink in this); I think that’s actually it for this - one stray joke about the reader getting Isaac a dog dollar.

A/N: I had so much fun writing this. As soon as the request hit my inbox, I knew I was going to write it at some point. Part of me kind of feels bad that I didn't write the expected jealousy = dominance - you may notice when you read the fic, I started out writing Isaac as dominant, but I cannot help writing him as submissive, and it turned into this interesting painting of 'his dominance is a performed act, and submissiveness is his true self' and 'his jealousy is possessiveness, not dominance' and possessiveness is a very submissive trait. (I could go more into depth about this in another post, and I probably will.) People often associate possessiveness with Doms, but I see Isaac as the most possessive Sub ever because he's a wolf. Anyway - I am really happy with how this turned out, and even if it's not what the original requester intended, I think the point of a request is that the author gets to interpret it and write it in their own style. And this is definitely how I would write it most true to my style. Also this has references to Season 3 - like Lydia dating Aiden and Isaac fighting the Alpha pack, but this is set after a lacrosse game, and in S3, they were in the off season of lacrosse. and I can guarantee you my autistic ass is the only one who cares about that and you didn't even notice until I pointed it out. So please - carry on.

...

The lacrosse field of Beacon Hills High School was absolutely buzzing. 

The night air was filled with cheers as the team and many fans were celebrating another win, while the opposing team sulked in disappointment as they packed onto their bus with their heads hung low, their coach screaming at them for the loss. Chatter and celebration filled the air - but you didn’t get a single moment to be a part of it as Isaac Lahey pulled you far away to somewhere secluded. Somewhere only he could get to have you.  

He currently had you pinned up against one of the lockers in the girls’ locker room. It was a place that nobody would think to look for the two of you - a place that wouldn’t be entered for the rest of the night, unlike the boys’, which would soon be filled with sweaty assholes shedding their kits and getting a shower before they went off to some party to celebrate their victory. Isaac had locked the door to make sure that the two of you would be left alone, and left the lights off so that nobody would be suspicious of any light coming from the crack beneath the door. 

But right now, none of those details mattered. 

All that mattered was that stupid number in the middle of your chest. That stupid block lettering sitting across your perfect round breasts. 

11. McCall. 

You could claim that you had worn it as a joke. But as Isaac locked his jaw stiffly, staring you down - you didn’t think that you would be getting away with that claim. 

“Take it off.” Isaac growled at you, his eyes flashing that glowing golden yellow, a visual that made your breath tight in your chest and made your cunt quiver. 

You remembered the first time you had seen that glow coming from his eyes - the first night he had found you after he received The Bite, when he was still high on adrenaline and warned by Derek not to do anything ‘stupid’. And the stupid thing he had done was climb up the side of your house, claw in through your bedroom window with the clumsy hands he barely knew how to use, and pin you down to your bed and fuck you senseless, feeling like an overeager dog with intensely swollen balls, feeling like he was too strong and going through puberty all over again. 

It had been one of the best nights of your life. 

“What?” You said, your voice even, calm, not even close to mocking dubious. “Take what off?” 

You were faking confusion - faking it poorly, easily signaling to him that you knew exactly what he was talking about. 

It was a dare. You were egging him on purposefully. The two of you always had the best sex when you did. That’s what the whole night was about, after all. 

Lydia had gotten the shirts made - she had gotten one for herself with Aiden’s name and lacrosse number on it, and she had told you that it was cheaper to ‘order multiple at a time’, and then she had pulled out one in your size. Your gut had shriveled up when you saw that it was one with Scott’s name and lacrosse number on it. 

A plain white tee shirt in a feminine, tight fit with burgundy vinyl lettering to match the school’s colours. Lydia had ordered them in white because she said it would be easier to make into an outfit, and she didn’t want to ‘wear that god awful colour’ with her nice coats. 

You had gone on one single date with Scott. He asked you out, you said yes. It had been a pleasant, average evening that ended with a bit of kissing. It was nice - Scott was a great guy. But it definitely hadn’t been anything special. It had only driven home in your mind that you definitely didn’t have those feelings for Scott. And you felt guilty for every single time you had flirted with him in Isaac’s presence just to make Isaac jealous, if it meant that you had been misleading him or leading him on. 

A while ago, Lydia had been talking about guys, and she said something about ‘you and Scott’ and not even fully paying attention, you agreed with her. And then she cheered, and you realized that she had been talking about romantic couplings among your friend group. She thought that your flirting with Scott and the one single date meant that the two of you were dating - so she took this as a greenlight to order you the shirt. She was excited that the two of you would look ‘coordinated’ cheering for your ‘boyfriends’ in the stands. 

But more than anything, you felt awkward correcting her because you couldn’t exactly tell her about the thing that you and Isaac had going on. 

Mostly because you had no clue what to call it. 

The two of you had been best friends for years, and you had been his rock and his confidant before anybody else knew what was going on with his father. And then, shortly after he had made the grand transformation from abused introvert to powerful (hot) werewolf, the two of you had started… this. 

Some might call it ‘friends with benefits’, some might call it a weird spiritual sexual codependency that had truly begun with you patching up his wounds from the beatings his father had given him. Either way, the slight flirting of your normal friendship ramped up tenfold, and now, every single time the two of you were behind closed doors together, the intense sexual tension in the air built until you were both partially unclothed and moaning. 

And in the outside world, the two of you were constantly at war. You were constantly in the throes of a game that nobody else knew was going on. You both refused to name each other as a romantic partner, but you were constantly in some kind of effort to get the other’s attention or make the other person jealous. He flirted with Allison and Erica, and… that stupid game was the only reason you had gone on a date with Scott. It had been a relatively nice date, but you hadn’t felt a single sense of the spark with Scott that you did with Isaac. 

And it was the only reason that you were wearing the stupid shirt that Lydia had given to you. It was the only reason you had sat in the stands beside Lydia with your jacket unzipped and even taken off all night in the cold, showing off that shirt, loudly cheering for Scott, putting on a show. 

All of it was to make Isaac jealous - to get some kind of a rise out of him. 

And it had worked so damn well. Seeing his clenched jaw, his flared nostrils… seeing the way his sharp fangs extended out over his lips as if he couldn’t control them while he looked at you with hellish lust in his eyes… you were almost terrified by how well you had succeeded. Almost. 

“Take. It. Off.” He growled, grinding on each word, his chest now heaving with the effort. 

“Make me.” You mumbled in reply, entirely confident, hoping that further teasing would only wind him up more. Hoping that it would only beautifully play into your game. 

He stepped closer to you and when you instinctively took a step back, your body hit the cold metal of the lockers, and you swallowed harshly as your body pumped with more lust. It was oddly thrilling to be so trapped - only because it was Isaac. And because you knew there was only one way this could end. 

Because your body was preparing for the sensations you knew came next - the ghost of his touch already lingering on you, your mind replaying those past events like grooves in a record. It caused you to become wetter and wetter just thinking about the feeling of his teeth digging into your neck, the feeling of his hands possessively gripping your hips, the feeling of his cock splitting you open. 

His breath ghosted over your forehead, his height towering over you somehow not intimidating at all as he pressed his hard body (disappointingly still clad in lacrosse pads, keeping you from feeling the true ridges of his muscles) up against you, truly ensuring that you could not escape. Not that you would want to escape from him. 

He took a thick sniff into the air, his nostrils flaring widely, and you knew he could smell it on you - the lust, the pure attraction you felt toward him, the adrenaline. Or maybe it was just the pure smell of your pussy pathetically leaking into your underwear that he was picking up on. Either way, he let out a whine, the first small indicator of his facade cracking, and you felt his hips jolt toward you, instinctively seeking friction. 

“Why the fuck are you doing this to me?” 

Isaac growled, still trying to sound tough, the words bordering on a pained howl. There was a unique agony in his voice as he stared down the length of your body and continued to fixate on those numbers on your chest, true haunting dancing in his pretty baby blues. 

Your gut twisted horribly as you realized it. This wasn’t just something he could brush off in the name of sex. You had really hurt him this time. Perhaps you had gone too far this time. Something that had started out as a well-meaning game of cat and mouse had turned into truly taunting a wolf - and unintentionally, you had wounded that wolf. 

That wolf that, even if it was never spoken, was supposed to be yours. Was supposed to be treasured as yours. 

You had gotten so caught up in playing the stupid game that you had made a terrible mistake. 

But you needed to see it through now. 

You reached up and grabbed both sides of his face, forcing him to look you in the eyes. 

“Make me.” You repeated the words, and Isaac let out another huff. “Make me take it off, Isaac.” He replied to this with a growl from deep in his chest, a sound that vibrated through your hands on his delicate, angelic face. “Make me yours.” 

He reached up with one hand in the middle of your chest and gently pushed you back, making sure your body was stiff and firm against the metal of the lockers, propping you there like hanging art on a wall. And then he took a small step to distance himself, his eyes flickering up and down your body sharply, drinking you in even though he had seen you thousands of times before. 

It had been torture - pure torture all night. From the moment he had seen you unzip your jacket, revealing that fucking shirt with Scott’s name on it (and the fact that you had paired it with a tiny little skirt and a pair of sheer tights… knowing that those tights emphasized your thick thighs, his favourite part of your body… just to torture him…) - he had been tempted to ditch off the field completely and run up into the stands just to tear it off you. Just to prove a fucking point. 

But that hadn’t even been the worst part of it. No. One of the words parts had been the fact that he was forced to stay on the field all night listening. Over-hearing you chatting it up with Lydia and Allison about your ‘date’ with Scott, talking about kissing him, theorizing about what having sex with him might be like. You had known he was listening the whole time. You knew his hearing was enhanced enough, and you knew that he had a special knack for picking up on your voice in a crowd. You had been doing it on purpose. 

And every time he glanced over between goals and saw Scott’s name stretched across your perfect tits… it killed him a little more inside. 

While thinking about all this, while thinking about the fact that he had been waiting to do this all night - 

Isaac raised up his hand, very intentionally flaring his claws, bold enough for you to see what his next move would be so that you could anticipate it and wouldn’t be afraid. And his cock began to throb almost painfully between his legs when he saw you push your chest out, arching your back against the lockers as you licked your lips, silently begging for it. 

Clearly, you didn’t wear Scott’s name proudly. You were aching him to tear the shirt off you, downright lustful at the thought - biting your lip, batting your eyelashes at him, the scent of your lust even more potent in the air down. 

Such a beautiful fucking tease. 

With delicate precision, he slashed his claws across your chest, shredding the fabric to pieces and feeling a cathartic vindication as the name and number of another guy fell apart and began to fall off you. 

A twinge of guilt nearly ruined the moment as he saw the slightest bit of blood glinting across your perfect skin, gathering in your cleavage along your gorgeous stretch marks, but you didn’t seem to care, and you didn’t seem to be in the slightest bit of pain. In fact, you let out a purely lustful moan and arched your back even more, pushing your chest toward him more - making you look like a perfect porno in your shredded clothing with your red lace bra now revealed underneath. 

Though in a moment, you reached up, pulling the scraps of the fabric away and shucking off the useless remains of the shirt, throwing it to the ground like the garbage that it now was. In the back of your mind, you guessed that now you would have to put on your jacket  - which you had been carrying in your hand and tossed off to the side earlier, and zip it up completely to cover yourself in order to leave. But that didn’t matter now. You didn’t care if you would have to leave here in just your bra if you meant you got to have what would likely come next. 

Isaac indulged in the sound of your pretty panting, the way you licked your lips, and the perfect, accelerated thumping of your heartbeat in his ears. 

“Better.” He sighed in relief, much preferring the sight of your chest heaving, nearly bare in front of him than the visual of Scott’s fucking name plastered across you like he owned you. He never did, he never would - 

You let out another hot moan in response, and Isaac found himself licking his lips. 

While he stood there, frozen with his lust, too busy visually admiring you, you were driven forward by your maddening need. You grabbed the front of his jersey and yanked him forward into a heated kiss. It was a mouth that you knew well from experience by now, and it was only a second before the two of you were exchanging moans and a clash of tongues. 

He craned down, his hands possessively grappled for your thighs, those claws making quick work of your tights, putting runs and even huge holes in the sheer material, quickly exposing your skin to the cool air of the room. It was something you would have been angrier about if not for the very pretty boy currently sucking on your face. 

One of his hands moved to claw at the seam of your tights, but you quickly clamped your legs shut, trapping his wrist from moving any further, much to his whiny disappointment. You used your hold on the front of his jersey to push him away, and you were met with the most sweetly crestfallen expression - wide, glossy, sad eyes staring you down while he curled his lip, clearly wondering what he had done wrong. Wondering what he had done to be denied. 

“Not so fast.” You scolded him gently. “You have to ‘take it off’ too.” You told him, running your fingers down the front of his chest, more than offended by all the padding he was wearing in addition to the clothing. Far too much coverage. 

“I’m not the one who was acting like a whore.” Isaac huffed, clearly still wounded from the fact that you had worn Scott’s numbers. The word sounded strangely good on his lips, but still, you rolled your eyes. From him, it wasn’t dominance or power. It was slowly turning into bratty defiance in your little game. “I wasn’t out there shaking my ass in front of the crowd while wearing some other guy’s fucking number, acting like a dumb slut-” 

“Oh, please.” You let out a dark laugh, and Isaac swallowed thickly, knowing that you had truly arrived. After all the winding up - the main event had finally started. “You act like a dumb slut all the time.” 

Isaac let out a sharp breath at your words, loving how easily you tossed the words back at him. Something inside of him was absolutely purring at the harsh title that was now freshly branded into his skin. This was the moment that his brain began to melt between his ears, and any sense of the ‘tough guy’ act that he put on for the rest of the world was completely gone. 

From this point on, he was dissolving into the sweet puppy that only you were allowed to know. 

“Like now, for example.” You continued on, more venom lacing through your lips. You put on your most threatening voice, hating to get firm with him, but knowing it was necessary. “So you can strip down, and fucking behave yourself, or I can get dressed and go find Scott and see what fucking him would be like instead.” 

Isaac glared at you, and you saw that horrible quiver come across his lip again. Before you could worry that you had gone too far, he reached up and began pulling off his gear, and you heard a few muffled complaints as his pads hit the floor. 

���You don’t have to be so mean,” He told you, nothing more than a petulant whine at this point. 

He was ready to be compliant with you - ready to do whatever you said because he needed it just as much as you did. 

When he was shirtless, you didn’t wait for him to ditch his bottoms before you leaped into action once again. You reached out and tucked your fingers into the waistband of his shorts, hauling him toward you - and much like a loyal dog tight on a leash, he let himself be so easily pulled, even though he was much stronger than you and he could have overpowered you if he wanted to. 

But that was the glory of it. He was a statue of might, standing over six feet tall, shredded with muscles that were enhanced with supernatural strength, and yet - he wouldn’t hurt a fly without your permission. He wouldn’t take a step in any direction if it wasn’t to stand in your shadow. 

He didn’t worship anywhere if it wasn’t at your altar. 

He had sought out guidance anywhere and everywhere since his father had died - Derek, Scott, Deaton, even Erica. But he had only found sanity and solace at the palace of your lips. 

Which was why he moaned into your mouth as you kissed him again, quickly shoving your tongue past his teeth to remind him of why he was here. He belonged to you, and he shouldn’t do anything without your sacred permission. 

You got a firm grip on his hair and caused a sting across his scalp with how possessively you were holding onto him, causing pleasant tingles through his whole body as he was reminded of that lovely feeling of being held by you, being owned by you. You used the hold to force him tighter into your mouth, angling his head just the way you needed to kiss him firmer, deeper, controlling every single aspect of it - causing a sweet whimper out of him as he was guided like a puppet on a string. 

He had been the one to drag you here with a demanding, tight grip on your wrist - he had been the one to practically throw you up against the lockers in anger. He thought this whole thing had been his idea. 

But this had never been his game. 

Any tough moves he made out on the lacrosse field, any intimidation he managed with people like Stiles or the Alphas he had battled during the summer - it was all a farce. You were the only person that knew deep down, he was a puppy, just looking for guidance. At the end of the day, after everything he had been through in life - he was just looking for somewhere soft to lay his pretty head. 

Isaac let out a whine as you pulled away from the kiss to take a breath. He instantly wanted to protest, instantly began chasing your mouth. He didn’t care if he drowned in your mouth, if he died due to lack of oxygen. 

But of course, he didn’t settle for a lack of contact. 

While you combed your fingers through his hair and used the other hand to start untying the knot of his shorts, he immediately dipped his head down, seeking more of your precious skin. His neck almost became pained from the awkward angle, having to lean so far down due to his height - but he didn’t care. He dipped his head between your breasts and immediately began laving his tongue over the small cuts he had unintentionally left there. From him, it was a wordless apology, hanging his head in shame at the fact that he could ever hurt you, no matter how small, no matter how meaningless the tiny scratches were to you. 

In your mind, it didn’t matter. Owning a pet meant that sometimes you came off with a few tiny wounds. You would end up loving the scars. You let out small hiss at the sting of saliva, and then began moaning, and he was quickly driven mad by the twang of your blood on his tongue. 

“Isaac-” You moaned out hotly. 

He believed that he was a beast being fed by you, bound to devour you disastrously sooner or later - but you knew not to be afraid. He could do you no real harm. You could never truly be afraid of someone with such delicate sadness in his eyes. 

Especially not when he humped your hip like a lost puppy and whined against your skin like he had been kicked in the gut. His cock throbbed painfully inside his athletic cup, far too fucking restricted, crying out for your touch. He was grateful when you pushed down his shorts and his thin athletic pants underneath, and then took care to strip off his underwear and cup without hurting his sensitive, now very hard cock. 

“Aww, puppy.” You cooed - it was a playful pet name that you had used with him many times before, but for some reason, it practically punched him in the gut, easily forcing the air out of his lungs when he heard it. 

His responsive moan crescendoed into a harsh growl between his teeth when you reached out and grabbed his cock with a cool hand - it was an immediate contrast, his skin boiling hot with blood thumping so hard underneath, making his cock so rigid that it practically vibrated under your touch. The tip of his dick leaked furiously into your hand as you began casually pumping him, no distinct rhythm or precision in your movements, purposefully teasing him. 

“You need this, don’t you?” You purred, voice purposefully honey-sweet as you lapped up his reactions. “You need me.” 

“I need you.” Isaac panted in return without hesitation. “I need you, please.” 

You ran your thumb over the leaking slit of his cock, indulging in just how wet he was, loving how it showed his desperation, plain and clear. You also couldn’t help but to love the beautiful little whimper he let out from the back of his throat, the way his breath puffed across the exposed skin of your breasts, cooling the salvia he had left there. Your skin becoming more exposed as he reached a hand up and yanked down your bra, putting strain on the straps where they sat on your shoulders. 

“You gonna earn it?” You posed, feeling the devil on your shoulder, unable to resist. Isaac only whined in response. “Get on your knees for me like a good dog.” 

Isaac’s breath caught in his throat. 

When he had first become a werewolf and you had found out about it, you had made a good many ‘dog’ jokes about him. And he used to hate them. But over time, he had come to love the comparison because he loved being your dog. (It’s why the nickname ‘puppy’ put a warm fondness in his gut rather than making him feel humiliated.)  

He knew, at the end of the day, that it was true. He needed to be owned by you, he needed a damn leash. He was intensely loyal, despite himself. And no matter what, at the end of the day, he would always return to you, head down, looking for praise, looking to be fed - whether that was a feeding of the soul, or stupidly literal, who knows. 

Any other time, the words would have been embarrassing - it would have been something he argued against. But this time - he practically let out a bark to demonstrate his pure loyalty to you, and he rushed to follow the simple order. Even though he hated your touch leaving his cock as he dropped to his knees on the cold tiled floor (thankful that he was still wearing his knee pads where his clothing was caught in a tangle just above them), he was more than eager to serve you. He used a careful, precise claw to reach up and shred a hole in the crotch of your tights, quick to destroy your underwear as well when he found them in his way. 

“Good boy.” You easily praised him, and he found his brain once again delightfully fuzzy at the simple words. 

Your fingers were in his hair again, but he didn’t even need your touch driving him forward. He was drawn to your exposed cunt like a madman, more than eager to shove his face into the folds of your perfect pussy. He used a hand to lift your perfect plump thigh and pull it up over his shoulder, inviting you to sit some of your weight on him so that he could be closer to you, ever closer, closer. He shoved his tongue deep into your hot, wet hole and shoved his nose between your folds, unintentionally bumping against your clit, just hungry to taste and smell as much of you as he possibly could. 

“Isaac!” You moaned out, using your hold on his hair to try and keep him in place while you humped against his face, causing him to moan enthusiastically into your pussy. “Oh fuck, puppy! You’re so good.” 

The combination of the praise and the nickname was absolutely dizzying, and along with your wetness on his tongue, your smell so potent and perfect surrounding him - he felt as though he didn’t deserve something this good. But he didn’t care. He quickly became obsessed with drowning himself in you - with one hand possessively gripping your thigh beside his head and the other gripping the edge of your skirt, moaning frantically into you while he fucked his tongue in and out of you, lapping up as much of your taste as he could. 

“Oh fuck - such a sweet puppy, so good for me.” 

There was no skill to it. 

He was growing dumb between the ears, becoming more and more of the dog that you accused him of being - nothing but animal instincts and the loyal need to please you. He humped his hips into the air and his cock began leaking openly onto the floor, leaving a pathetic puddle of precum there that neither of you would notice, something that would have the janitor questioning later. 

Currently, all Isaac cared about was the taste of your pussy on his tongue, the wonderful essence of you that reminded him he was home. All he cared about was being good for you while getting a reward that he barely deserved; all he cared about was the wonderful heat of your pulsing cunt under his lips with your vibrating little button bouncing on his nose, getting to smother himself in your perfect scent. 

“Yes baby, so fucking good-” 

All of his moaning and insistent tongue-fucking meant that you were drawing close to your orgasm very quickly. 

Your thighs began to shake, your muscles jolting beside his head and he continued to lap it right up. He moaned even harder, angling his head to drive his tongue deeper into you as you became wetter, and he only basked as there was more for him to consume. You panted in harsh gasps as beautiful jolts of pleasure rang through your cunt while his tongue pierced you again, and again, and again, fucking you in the most perfectly thoughtless way. 

Your fingers dug into his scalp and he didn’t even care that you used the touch to drive him further to smothering while you rubbed your pussy across his face, smearing your wetness all over his cheeks and his chin, coating him so perfectly in your smell. He could only enjoy it as you came all over him and tipped your head back against the lockers behind you, your moans echoing against the walls like a perfect concert while the boys in the locker room across the hall were none the wiser. (The chatter of their conversations and the sound of their showers completely muting out the sound of your moans from reaching their ears.) 

“Fuck, Isaac! Oh, puppy! Such a good boy!” 

Isaac moaned at your words and his cock was downright throbbing now. 

But even though, in the back of his mind, his dick was cold in the air of the room and he wanted nothing more than to sink into your perfect pussy, he still felt a deep pang of disappointment when you used your grip on his hair to pull him away from your perfect, wet cunt. He let out a whine showing that disappointment, and fought to keep your leg on his shoulder as you moved to pull away. But still, he ultimately conceded to you when you patted his hand off your thigh and scolded him with a glare and a quiet warning of: 

“Behave.” 

“I wasn’t done.” He complained, his voice small. 

But still, he settled for licking your taste off his lips, looking up at you through his lashes from down on his knees. You combed your finger through his hair again, unable to stop yourself from admiring him, even if he was being a bit of a selfish brat. 

He was just so damn pretty. 

Porcelain skin stretched over perfect muscles, big pretty blue eyes staring up at you, his cock out and still leaking, bright red now due to being neglected by you. You couldn’t have imagined a more perfect sight. You couldn’t help but to reach down and drag your thumb through some of the lingering wetness on his chin and feed it to him - and of course, he ate it right up, sucking the digit eagerly into his mouth and moaning around it. 

“Oh? So you don’t want to fuck me then?” You posed, playing off his words with a teasing statement that easily drove him mad. 

These words quickly sparked him to action. 

He jumped up off his knees, rising to his tall height once again, somehow so unintimidating. Such a sweet little wolf. 

With your back pinned up against the lockers for support, he grabbed your legs and pulled you up off the ground, his beyond human strength helping him to easily lift you so that you could wrap your legs around his waist - and just a moment later, as his cock perfectly lined up with your soaked entrance, you easily fell onto that perfect, stiff shaft. 

He didn’t hesitate to fuck up into you. He knew you didn’t need soft and you definitely weren’t expecting it, and any sense of patience he might have had was long gone. There was no sweetness, no slowness - all that was left was his pure possessive need to be close to you and your guiding hand driving him on, encouraging him as you dug your nails into his shoulders, leaving marks that would never last with his werewolf healing. 

“Good boy.” You told him, your breath slipping away for a moment as you were reminded of just how perfectly his cock could split you open. “Fuck, Isaac.” 

He kept one hand tight on your hip and the other went above your head, hanging onto the top of the lockers, desperate to hold on to something as he felt your perfect, hot wetness gripping his cock. Following his instincts, he fucked forward, slamming his hips into you, needing to feel more, needing to be closer to your warmth - needing more of you. 

“Need you.” He panted, his head falling to press his forehead close to yours, something that felt sweetly intimate for the situation, his eyes squinted tightly as he became overwhelmed by the sensations. “Fuck - need you, need you so much.” 

“Come on, puppy.” You encouraged him. “Come on, take what you need.” 

You tightened your legs around his waist, his movements nearly threatening to buck you off as he moved his hips so wildly - sheer need absolutely tight in every muscle as thick whines poured from his lips. You were eager to soothe him, your hands running up and down his sweaty back - some of it lingering from the hard work he had done during the game and some of new from how hard he was fucking you now, lighting up all the nerve endings inside your pussy, making you feel so perfect. 

“Such a good boy.” You moaned, your breath brushing against his lips - his mouth open as he struggled for air and continued to whimper sweetly for you. “Such a sweet little puppy. Good fucking dog.” 

Isaac let out a growl, fucking into you harder, his brain pure static at this point. 

Yes - he was a good dog. He was your good dog. 

He couldn’t help it when the pleasure surged through him, the pure energy, and his grip on the lockers above your head tightened so much that the metal started to crumble beneath his fist as if it was nothing more than a piece of paper. You heard the terrible shrieking groan of the metal, but you didn’t even bother to look up - you couldn’t have taken your eyes off Isaac in those moments. You were far too enraptured by your puppy in front of you, by the nearly pained look on his face, by the feeling of his perfect cock splitting you open as he faithfully fucked up into your pussy, not stopping for even a moment. 

You brought a hand to his face, grasping his jaw between your thumb and forefinger, digging the touch in - just a twinge of pain to get his attention, a firm grip to remind him that he was yours. 

“Look at me.” You demanded, your breath hot, your voice shaking slightly as the pleasure shook your body. “Come on, puppy - look at me.” 

He forced his eyes open, eager to be good for you, eager to do as you said. He gulped air in as he continued to grip onto your hip, the locker crumbling even more into a mess as the tension in his muscles was wrought into it, forced there rather than ever be taken out on you - even unconsciously, he could never use too much force on you. 

The silken blue that looked at you was a sight so beautiful that you couldn’t bear to look away, a mess of lust and ravenous madness, a prayer of devotion to you that was far too complex for words. You gave him a small, sweet kiss on the lips that he moaned so deeply at, his hips stuttering terribly as his balls downright ached - 

“Cum for me.” You demanded, the words a firm smack against his mouth, a punch to his gut that made him cry out. “Cum for me, puppy, be a good boy, come on-” 

He let out a strangled moan that dissolved into a downright filthy whimper from the back of his throat as his hips sped up, his skin practically blurring as he was now given precious permission from you. Your cunt became utterly sore with the speed and pressure his pelvis kept hitting you with, continually pounding into you with that impossible strength, the sound resonating harshly through the room, nearly threatening to break you. 

But it was only a few breathless moments later that a moan punched through his gut and you heard something that resembled your name choked through his throat - and then he fucked into you one last time, his hips then becoming glued to yours, almost entirely still in contrast to moments before. He ground against you sharply, overstimulating your swollen clit with the stiffness of his pelvis as he seemingly tried to merge with you through persistent will alone as he pumped his cum inside of you in warm spurts. 

“Good puppy,” You hummed, continuing to run your hands up and down his back and through his hair. You kissed down his cheek and his neck and along his shoulder, praising him, soothing him, worshipping him just like he deserved while his cock throbbed inside of you. “Good boy. So fucking good for me.” 

He moaned in return, words lost to the stupidly thick tongue inside of his mouth - one that was only capable of licking up and down your neck while he humped his cock inside of you for a few more moments, enjoying your soothing words and the warmth of your pussy around him as his orgasm ebbed away. 

Unfortunately, it couldn’t last forever like that. 

You pulled him in for one last kiss - one that the two of you savoured with a moan and a dip of tongues into each other’s mouths as he pulled his cock out of you. 

(Distantly, you had a thought about how you would have to walk out of here with no underwear - because you definitely weren’t going to keep on the scraps that he had left you, gaping with remnants of his cum inside of you. And you did feel a strange sense of satisfaction in that. Especially knowing that he would be able to smell that cum on you for hours with his werewolf nose, even if you went home and changed your clothes before Lydia’s mandatory ‘Lacrosse Team Win’ celebration party - and that was enough of a reason not to take a shower and scrub the scent off.) 

He let you down and you were unsteady on your legs, much like a baby deer, still having to lean on the lockers for support while he moved to grab some toilet paper from one of the stalls to help clean you both up. 

A heavy silence fell over the two of you, unlike any other time that you had sex with Isaac. 

While you righted your clothes (prying what was left of your underwear out from underneath your tights and throwing them away, along with the scraps of the shirt that had started this all, fixing your skirt, and putting your jacket on over your bra for some coverage) - and Isaac got dressed, you wondered what would happen next. Your eyes landed on the huge dent that was now in the top of the row of lockers, and you genuinely weren’t sure if you should ask him to try and fix it, or if it would just be better to leave it like that and let people wonder. 

“Please…” 

Isaac mumbled out, his voice so quiet, raspy around the edges due to the moaning he had just done. When you whipped your head toward him, he worked up the courage to finish the sentence. 

“Please… don’t talk about Scott anymore.” 

You stared at him, puzzled, as he put on his jersey (his pads still left on the floor, seeing as he didn’t need them anymore). Clearly, his mind had been on a completely different track. He was staring you down with those sad, glassy eyes once again, and you felt a terrible twinge of guilt tighten in your gut. 

You knew that he was the jealous type. That was why you had done all this. But you couldn’t go on being his secret fling, his secret fuck. His perfect confidant with no public title. 

So you prodded that wound one last time. 

“Why not?” You asked, risking it all. 

You would either leave this losing your best friend, the best sex of your life, and the person you loved most in the whole world - or you would leave this as a whole, better person. 

Isaac swallowed, and bowed his head, unable to look you in the eyes. Somehow, at six-foot-one, he looked so terribly small. He might not be able to do this. He might be too broken to live up to it. But you hoped, you prayed that he would - 

“Because I-” He shuddered, verging on tears. And somehow, he was able to get the words out. “Because I’m in love with you.” 

Everything inside of you lit up. More perfect than any orgasm, better than the feeling of his cock inside of you - this was what you had been missing the whole time. 

“And look, I understand that you might have just been playing around,” He continued, his words having a terrible meaning - acknowledging your game in wearing Scott’s numbers, and voicing his insecurities in your relationship, believing that you had been unserious with him because you had never loved him at all. “But it kills me to see you with other guys. I can’t-” 

You stepped forward, using a hand on the side of his jaw to pull him into another kiss. In a moment, he understood the passion, the warmth - something that went far beyond sexual needs. The way you guided him because you knew exactly what he needed. The unspoken connection the two of you always had that now needed those words. 

“Isaac, you should know I love you too.” You told him. “That I’ve been in love with you - since forever.” 

He let out a tense breath of relief. 

“I won’t talk about anyone else like that, or flirt with anyone, or anything along those lines, if that’s what you want.” You assured him. “You are mine, and I’m yours. Okay, pup?” 

He flushed at the nickname, and nodded, and you smiled brightly. 

“I’ll even get you a dog collar with my name on it so that everyone can know you’re mine.” You said - your tone was distinctly joking, but you didn’t miss the way he bit his lip, and the lustful light that grew in his eyes. 

“Shut up.” He laughed, shaking his head. 

(He definitely wouldn’t end up masturbating to thoughts of that later. Definitely not.)

...

Please keep in mind, there will not be a continuation or a 'part 2'. This is a oneshot, meaning that it is a complete story on its own and I do not feel the need to continue it. If you comment asking for a Part 2 or asking for a continuation after I have written this ending message, I consider that to be extremely rude and unkind.

If you are going to comment, please comment about the content of the fic that has been written. I love discussing the characters that I write about with other people in the comments and connecting with fellow fans. I work very hard on my fics and I always appreciate comments, but I do not appreciate when people only comment asking for more rather than wanting to discuss what I have already worked hard on.

Even if you don't comment, I hope you enjoyed, and if you want more from me because you enjoyed this fanfic a lot, you should definitely check out my Teen Wolf Masterlist, which has a lot of similar fics!

Happy Reading,

Sunny ☀️

[sesmiq]

HEART. I wanted to be somewhere From iron to red drench 그 둘 사이 어딘가에 ┆bttm m!reader x top m!oc(riku) ‧★ 𐔌 warnings: one of my heavier work, not finished sadly, may cause dysphoria or discomfort please read on your own discretion, angst no comfort, internalized homophobia, cross dressing, a pinch of religious guilt, no prep (always prep your partners!!), blowjob (giving), reverse cowgirl (receiving),, not proof read

Riku was born into a family that strictly follows the bible.

the kind of family where love was a commandment, where sin was an unforgivable stain.

from a young age, his parents taught him two important things, 

one, boys shouldnt cry.

two, two people of the same gender cant marry each other.

as he grew older, he stayed with these rules. he only dated girls, never cried even at his pets death, and was never really close to the “weird” boys in his class.

everything was going well for him, as long as he follows the rule, life will be normal,

right?

that was until you transferred to his school during the last year of high school, who even transfers school in their senior year? he asked his friends, laughing it off until he saw you.

the moment you walked into the room, it felt like the room became more vibrant, like how the male lead felt when he first saw the female lead in a shoujo manga.

when he saw you, the first thing he noticed was your presence, it was different from the others. something that made his chest tightens, his thoughts short circuit,

and his heart started to beat faster.

his friend nudged him from the side, muttering a short ‘youre staring.’, making him come back from his senses,

no. 

this is wrong. his mind screamed. he can already imagine the disappointment from both his parents if they knew. you were a guy. hes a guy. it just wouldnt work.

he loathed you, he hated the way he made him feel.

but despite all that, he mustered the courage to go up to you during lunch break.

“hey, my name’s riku, youre the new kid who sat in front of me, right?”

he shouldnt have done that. shouldnt have introduced himself to you.

because the moment you looked up from your food and smiled at him— everything in him froze. this is wrong. I shouldnt feel like this. he said to himself, again.

but the feelings didnt go away.

a few years had passed.

but sadly for riku, the doki doki feelings for you didnt. 

he was fully convinced that once the two of you graduated high school, you’ll slowly drift apart and cut off all contact. then the feelings would disappear.

that is, until he saw you on orientation week at his university during his freshmen year.

you didnt expect to see him either, but here you were, standing face to face with riku again like the first time you two met.

since that day, the two of you have only grown closer.

it was casual at first, you’d walk to class together, wait for each other’s class to end so you can have dinner, just the two of you.

nothing too much. you two thought to yourself. its just being friendly.

but somehow, the feelings only deepened.

you began to look for him in a crowded hallway. you couldnt help but notice how his hand would brush against yours whenever you pass him a drink. when he waited for you outside of your lecture hall during one of your night classes.

you told yourself to not think much about it, he cant feel the same way towards you, he had multiple girlfriends throughout the year.

he wouldnt be interested in you like that.

but sometimes, you found yourself hoping that maybe, just maybe, he felt something too.

Now, the two of you were at the bar, graduation just a few weeks away.

riku didnt think much when you invited him to a bar you two usually goes to, telling him that you needed to tell him something.

you two talked while drinking, laughing at some lame joke riku made or complaining about a certain professor who kept giving you assignments as if you didnt have other classes.

a few drinks in, and riku was slowly getting tipsy. you noticed the way how he started to slur his words, how his hands are slightly shaking whenever he brings his cup to his lips.

“‘you good?” you asked him, voice slightly moving his hair away from his face when he started to lay his head onto the table.

he didnt respond at first, just stared at you unblinking. his gaze lingers longer than usual, the kind that made your chest tighten. 

the silence between you two was almost too quiet if it werent for the booming music playing from the bars speaker.

you felt your heart racing, just nervously gripping onto your own drink as riku stared at you.

before you could say something to unease the tension, out of nowhere, riku blurted out something.

“i wish you were a girl.”

you didnt respond right away, just stared at him with your mouth agape. how the hell are you supposed to reply to something like that?

you stared at him, expecting him to say something but his gaze didnt falter. he looked at you, as if waiting for you to say something.

you shifted in your seat, gripping onto your glass a little too tight, like it was the only thing holding you back from.. doing something.

your mind raced, what the hell does this mean?

does he like you? he did tell you about his religious family, it doesnt make sense.

the silence between you stretched longer, the music from the bar— casual by chappel roan played loudly in the background but it felt muffled.

“I-” you started, your voice slightly trembling. “..youre drunk riku, you dont mean that.” you tried to tell yourself. maybe he said it as a joke. Maybe he meant something else.

his dark eyes flickered for a moment, but he didnt looked away from you. “..no.” he shaked his head, you expected him to apologize, to laugh it off- or just. say nothing.

“i do mean it.” he repeated himself, quieter this time. before looking away from you to take another sip of his drink.

taking a deep breath, you ordered another drink for yourself. downing it in one go before facing riku again, leaning closer to his face.

his breath hitched slightly, but he didnt pull away. 

“cmon.” you whispered, sliding your arm around his waist, pulling him just enough to drape his arm around your shoulder. you could feel his weight leaning against yours, he was heavy, but you didnt mind. “lets get you home.”

he leaned onto you with a groan, nuzzling his face into your neck and for a moment, you nearly forgot what he said earlier.

the walk to his dorm didnt take long, you fumbled for his key card while trying to hold him at the same time. you  soon unlocked the door. laying him down in a comfortable position on the couch. 

you turned back to leave his dorm, his hand reached out to pull you slightly towards him. his touch was so gentle, as if he was testing the waters.

“stay,” he murmured, his eyes half lidded.

you hesitated for a second, pulling your hand back from his hold. you brushed a hair from his face, “get some rest.” you whispered, walking towards the door slowly. “ill see you tomorrow.”

with that, you turned and left, making sure that his door was locked before you did so. heart still pounding in your chest, tears threatening to spill out as you walked.

the next day came in a miserable blur.

thankfully it was the weekend, which meant no classes, an excuse to pretend things were normal.

riku woke up with a hammering hangover, groaning into his pillow for drinking too much last night.

he got up from his couch to go to the kitchen, chugging a cup of cold water and popping 2 painkillers.

he texted you once he found his phone on the coffee table, complaining about his hangover and thanking you for bringing him back to his dorm. “thx for bring me back btw” “i owe you one” “my head is killing me” 

he waited for your reply, sitting in front of his tv as he kept glancing at his phone every time a notification came in. expecting for your contact name to appear on the screen.

he stared at the ‘havent read’ on his screen for a second, before typing out a text again, “i didnt say anything stupid, did i?”

he flipped through the channels mindlessly, not really watching whatever is on the tv.. just, waiting.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, he heard a buzz from his phone- a ringtone he used specially for you— no one noticed by the marias.

he scrambled for his phone, nearly stubbing his toe in the process, and unlocked his phone as if he won the lottery.

on top of his screen was glowing, “yn 𖹭.ᐟ hands slightly sweaty (from nervousness? or from the heat, he wasnt so sure himself.), he hastily clicked on the message,

“drink more water^^”

.. just that? no silly stickers that you usually send, no whining about how he better treat you for food as a thanks? 

just a simple, distant text. like a nurse reminding him to take his medication.

nothing else.

he stared at the message, lips twitching into something like an irritated smile, “hah?” he scoffed.

before he could type in another message, he heard a knock from the door.

grumbling underneath his breath, he dragged himself to the door unwillingly, brain fogged with confusion, anger, regret?

he opened the door, ready to give whoever decided to knock on his door at this time a piece of his mind,

but then, he realizes it was you,

standing at his door in the dimly lit hall of his dorm, he glanced down at you, eyes widened at what youre wearing.

he stared at what you were wearing, a loose shirt and shorts but from his view, he could see the white strawberry patterned frilly bra, the strap just peeking through the neckline of the shirt. 

youre wearing a cheap long wig, some mascara and a pink glossy lip gloss. he takes note of your eyes, red and slightly puffy- like you cried before coming here. 

to top it all off, you wore an oversized brown coat, as if you were trying to hide the outfit on the way here.

at first, the two of you didnt say anything, just stared at each other. 

riku wanted to throw up, what did he say for you to do this? did he do anything stupid? dared you to do this?

before he said anything, you smiled at him, “i tried,” you whispered,

“you said youd love me if i was a girl, right?”

he shouldve asked you to leave, yelled at you to never come back and closed the door in your face.

but pathetically enough, he didnt.

instead, he pulled you in by your wrist so tightly to the point it hurts. he slammed the door behind you with a loud bang! 

“you look pathetic.” he hissed, his hands discarding your coat and throwing it to the side,

you only blinked at him, smiling even though your eyes looked nervous.

he grabbed your jaw, squeezing your cheeks and glaring down at you with something between disgusted and desperation.

“isnt this what you wanted?” you asked him, voice small, fake smiling.

riku couldnt breathe. his breath hitched when you brought up your hand to touch his face.

“touch me,” your voice sounded softer, “you can pretend.”

he almost backed away. almost. 

but you looked up at him so sweetly, like he was your whole world. like you wanted him to ruin you.

he pulled you in for a kiss, it wasnt like those romantic kisses a couple would share in the movies. It was ugly, your teeth keep clashing with each other, tongue fighting for dominance.

riku’s hand slides under your shirt, tugging it down enough to see the bra.

“where the hell did you even get this?” he asked you, “dont tell me you got a matching set of panties too.”

at this comment, you looked at the side, as if youre guilty.

he raised his eyebrows at this, his holds on you tightened, just enough to make you squirm. 

he didnt say anything, just dragged you to his room, making you kneel in front of him while he sat on his bed. 

he looked down at you, as if expecting you to do something. “suck.” he says, pointing towards his crotch.

you didnt say no. 

you fumbled at the waist of his pants, fingers trembling and nearly scratched your nails at his skin.

you stared awkwardly at his member, you never did this before— only watched it happen on low quality porn.

you leaned into him, lips brushing against the head of his dick, awkward and shaky.

the moment you took him into your mouth, he hissed before grabbing a fistful of your hair (wig?) and pulling you back,

“watch your teeth.” he grunted, then pushed your head lower to take him deeper.

you choked immediately, the foreign feeling of his dick deep in your throat.

drools dripped from the corner of your mouth, the salty mix with bitter taste filling your nose and tongue, making you feel like puking.

you gagged, eyes watering slightly.

yet he didnt care when you tried to pull back instinctively, he pushed you down again, your nose against his pubic hair.

you whimpered around him, desperate but humiliated. your knees burn from the carpet on the floor. 

but you continued bobbing your head, tears stinging your eyes when riku started to move his hip forward shallowly. 

you gagged again, spit and precum dripping down your chin yet you didnt pull away.

“‘m close,” riku hissed, attempting to pull out but you wrapped your arms around his waist, refusing to let him go.

his fingers tightened in your hair, tugging harshly enough to make you whine.

he cursed under his breath, then  with a sharp gasp, he came inside your throat.

yet you didnt pull away, you stayed there, drinking up everything he had to give to you, letting him fill you up like you havent eaten for days.

he didnt look at you at first, just covered his eyes with his arm while catching his breath.

you looked up at him, pulling off his dick with a small pwah! just waiting for the man above you to say or do something.

you stayed kneeling there for a second, dazed and blinking up at him.

he soon snap out of it, suddenly finding your arms to yank you up from the cold floor.

you nearly stumbled, before you can fully find your footing, he dropped you onto the bed roughly, like you were nothing but a doll.

you werent sure what to do, you sat there, staring at him. his body sprawled out, his legs slightly spread, his cock twitching and half hard against his stomach.

you crawled up into his lap without thinking, riku stared down at you for a second — breathing heavy, face twisted into something between regret and lust — before his hands fell away, like even touching you was too much.

you straddled him awkwardly, knees digging into the mattress on either side of his hip, breath hitching when you felt his cock twitch underneath the thin layer of your shorts.

you started to grind onto him slowly, almost shyly, hips rocking against him like you were afraid he would run away, though, he didnt stop you. you let out a tiny whimper at the friction of his member rubbing against you.

he didnt move at first until he brought his hands up, not to hold you, just held onto the bed sheet tightly. his hand twitches every time you grind down onto him.

you kept moving your hips, your breath catching every time your own dick rubbed against his own.

after a while, he finally said something, “turn around.” he muttered, his voice low and tight in his throat.

you blinked at his command, head tilted slightly to the side as if you were confused, the wig somewhat sideway on your head— but you obeyed.

you shifted your position slugglisly, turning your back towards him while youre still in his lap. your thighs trembled, tired from kneeling for too long.

riku wasnt patient. 

he grabbed your waist, his finger digging in. he lowered his hand towards the hem of your shorts, yanking it to the side roughly—

revealing a white frilly panties with the same strawberry pattern as the bra you were wearing.

he didnt say anything, just scoffed before shoving the panties to the side as well, exposing your hole to the cold air, the fabric snapping against your thigh. “bite your shirt.” he tells you, his hand fondling with your ass, pinching the meat slightly, making you mewl out in pain (maybe even pleasure? ponders.)

you did what he tells you anyway, bringing the edge of your shirt on your own and biting it down.

you turned your shoulder slightly to the side, glancing at him. he noticed your gaze and grabbed your head to face the wall again. 

“what are you waiting for?”  he said, his voice cold, as if he was disgusted, impatient. “do it yourself.” you flinched at the harsh tone of his voice, your hand fumbled as you reached down, guiding him to your entrance. 

you whimpered when you sank down slowly, fingers unintentionally digging into riku’s thigh to keep yourself from falling, making him hiss in pain. the stretch burned, the mix of your spit and his cum from earlier made it bearable to take.

it doesnt make the pain go away, but enough for you to slide down until your ass meets his hips. 

you could feel him in your gut, deep— too deep, like he was fucking up into your guts and trying to find something, (a womb, perhaps.)

yet, your walls still squeezed around him like you didnt want to let him go.

you stayed still, trying to catch your breath, teeth still biting onto the fabric of your shirt. he noticed this, he brought his hand up to grab your flat chest through the thin fabric of the bra.  

he palmed your chest lazily, tugging at the frill of the bra, fingers slowly curly towards the inward,

his fingers barely came in contact with your nipple at first, fingers brushing lightly against your sensitive skin just circling, almost teasing.

you could barely hold back your whimper, you bit down harder on the fabric as your body jolted from the cold sensation of riku’s finger.

then without warning, his finger curled, pinching and tugging onto your perky nipple sharply.

you nearly cried out in pain, but all that came out was a muffled whine.

riku stilled for a second, his hand, once holding on you hardly, loosened just a little.

“you okay?” his voice came out low, quiet and rushed. like he regretted saying it once it had already passed his lips.

then, his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed once again.

“who said you could stop moving?” he murmured, his voice still low- but not as cruel as before. he grabbed onto your hips and lifted you up slightly, slamming you back down.

you whined when you felt his dick hit your prostate dead-on, hips trembling from the sudden movement. you started moving again, slow and shaky, each bounce shallow and pathetic.

your movement grew desperate, trying to keep the rhythm even when your thigh burned. 

riku watched, his jaw tight. his nails dug deeper into your skin, holding you in place.

he didnt move, didnt thrust, just sat there as you kept rolling your hips clumsily.

your knees screamed from the pressure and your hole throbbed hopelessly. each movement sent a sharp jolt up your spine, tears threatening to fall out of your eyes anytime soon.

if it werent for the shirt in your mouth muffling your whimpers, a security guard is probably called to rikus dorm at this point.

his hand rested on your hip, hes not clutching it, not controlling- just stayed there. like he wasnt trying to touch you, watching your grind down desperately.

“pathetic,” he grumbled, more to himself than to you. "cant even do this right.”

your hips stuttered, but you keep grinding, slower now.

a/n ts is unfinished im so sorry guys (◞‸ ◟);; i have no other excuses other than procrastination, no motivs and i have a j*b now so ausghshs if i can i would finish but its been rotting for,, 2 months in my google docs now </3 i feel bad for not feeding you guys too,, please dont burn me at stake

[lovejongseob]

can you do first time with soul? and/or like headcannons with a dancer gf? sorry if this req is weird lolz

Soul First Time hcs

Not weird at all !! Sorry I just did first time hcs, if you put in another req for a dancer gf, ill do that one before continuing the other reqs ^.^ Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy !!

Soul would need a little longer to be ready, but that's not to say he hasn't been thinking of it. He's imagined you in just about every scenario he can, and can't get off if he's not thinking about you. When in practice though, he finds himself becoming more shy. So even though he's wanted to, he might also want some time for the nerves to ease. He's also very perceptive of how you feel, what you want, and would wait forever if you need.

He wouldn't necessarily plan it, but he'd bring up naturally in conversation that he's ready. He will also act like he didn't just drop a huge piece of information on you, but you can tell he's acting more nonchalant to play with you a bit. Doesn't mind if you schedule it, but it would probably end up happening soon on its own.

Super affectionate leading up to it, hugging you, kissing you over your face and body, rubbing his thumb over your hand, and bringing the other to lay on his chest. Holding you a lot, and Soul is only grabbing you tighter when you bring yourself to sit on his lap. Softly grinding you into his hips, and looking at you with pleading eyes.

Soul’s face is so warm, and he asks you if he can eat you out with a shaky voice and lidded eyes. He's pretty shy, especially since he's so inexperienced, but he does a great job just for you. Looking up at you the entire time, studying your reactions and sounds. He controls his movements extremely well, and he's already a little more confident by the end of it.

He'd want you back on top of him as soon as you're ready, and he's trembling with anticipation. Soul lets you take almost completely over, and any anxiety he feels is melting away when you're taking such good care of him. He can barely think when you're being so sweet, holding his face, leaving kisses down his neck, and just making him feel so good.

At his core he's extremely caring, and even through all the fog, he's still trying to read you. When he's not overtaken by pleasure, he's being a little teasing to remind you that he's still there, but also just being super sweet. Lets you know how pretty he thinks you are, and how much he loves you. Of course, Soul is adding in a little bit of pushing his hips into yours, biting gently at the shell of your ear, or lightly dragging his tongue down your neck.

Very thoughtful afterwards, Soul would ask if you need anything, how you feel, how he can help, and more. It doesn't take much to convince him to let you clean up since he's so tired, but he's trying to lure you back into bed at any chance he gets. He might push through and get up to help just so you can hold him in your arms sooner. Falls asleep pretty quickly, but he’s touching and kissing you a lot before he does.

was so sleepy writing this ?? i usually make notes / small hcs, like 1-2 sentences in google docs, then extend on them on tumblr, but i started writing them, kinda zoned out, came back to a full paragraph. but hey it was working so i just kept writing there. proof read but i dont fully know how some of these sentences came to be formed. i always feel like im forgetting something oh my god 💀🙏

[wisteria-lodge]

What do you think about Draco’s and James’s similarities + differences but opposite treatment in the narrative?

Since Draco does have a full detailed explanation behind his behavior, he was raised to think it’s okay but they should keep up appearances, and he often witnessed others doing it first. James does not have any sort of explanation other than his parents pampered him.

Both said “Think I’d leave, wouldn’t you”. However Draco said it in context of trying to find something to bond with Harry over whereas James just wanted to bully Snape.

In Goblet of Fire, Draco points out how the death eaters could attack Hermione to scare the Trio into leaving him alone, however James actually did what the death eaters and threatened to do worse since he took his frustrations with Lily out on Snape. In Said confrontations, The Trio were the ones who accidentally came across Draco but James approached Snape out of boredom.

Both had prejudiced beliefs but Draco actually gave up his childhood prejudices but we have no proof James did.

While James did help Snape, he was also helping His friends and he went right back to sadisticly bullying and he was the main instigator.

Draco spared his enemies and tried helping them with no ulterior motives and fully expecting to be tortured/killed. While he did go to Harry in the room of requirement, he didn’t actively participate in the attacking, aside from trying to stop Crabbe from attacking the Trio. He also even expresses concern for Harry.

Yet James is somehow seen as more heroic.

James dies, Draco doesn't. It's the Draco vs Regulus framing thing all over again. As far as JKR is concerned, dying heroically just fixes everything, I guess.

A related part of her worldview is that suffering purifies you and makes you a better person. I do think that's the intended purpose of the super deliberate James + Draco parallels ("I think I'd leave, wouldn't you? [if I was sorted into X house]" - is really on the nose.) It's supposed to communicate how Harry would have looked, if he'd grown up like James or Draco. (Wealthy, only child, wizard parents who dote on him and spoil him.) Under difference circumstances, Harry could have had more of an ego, been more entitled, given into the brutal streak that he does have. When we first see school-age James, he's described as "It was as though [Harry] was looking at himself but with deliberate mistakes." That's a very interesting description, and I think ties in nicely to an "alternate universe Harry" reading.

This is also something that seems to have been on Dumbledore's mind. He describes 11-year-old Harry as "You were not a pampered little prince [ie, James], but as normal a boy as I could have hoped under the circumstances. Thus far, my plan was working well."

So: As far as he's concerned, leaving Harry with the Dursleys is not just justified but good, because it's made Harry a better person. Considering that Dumbledore, Snape, Dudley, Ron (arguably Draco) also have personal growth arcs kick-started through suffering... I'd say this is a point of view the text supports overall.

But another thing... is that I've always thought JKR writes friend group dynamics really, really well. They're messy, shifting, warm, tight-knit and complicated. Outside dynamics like class, politics, and discrimination come in, and bounce around in unpredictable ways. Even if there was some way to cleanly add up everyone's 'bullying points' and 'victim points' or whatever, and plug them into some formula, and be able to come out with some definitive statement like "Draco had it worse than Peter" - I wouldn't want to do it. What makes the Harry+Ron+Hermione+Draco dynamic interesting... and what makes the James+Remus+Sirius+Peter+Severus+Lily+Regulus dynamic even *more* interesting... is that basically everyone has an area in which they're powerful or privileged, another area where they're vulnerable or disenfranchised (with the possible exception of James)... and it makes for these fantastically complex character dynamics and vicious cycles.

Because every single one of these characters is written with some degree of ambiguity, (some more than others...) which ones you gravitate towards, and which ones you dislike end up being more of a personal Rorschach test than anything rooted in the books.

Like, I can see from your ask that you're inclined to give Draco a very positive edit. (and I mean, come on, I love Draco too.) You read Draco as vulnerable during the scene where the Golden Trio finds him the woods during the World Cup chaos, and decides to "scare the Trio into leaving him alone." That is absolutely a read that makes sense, but it's one that you're bringing to the book, there's nothing in that scene to suggest that Draco feels threatened. My personal read is that Draco - always squeamish about violence - is actually worried about Hermione on some unexamined level, because everything he says during that scene is advice on how to protect her, just expressed in a really asshole-ish way. But I think the read intended by JKR is - here's Draco, being an asshole, dishing out some exposition.

[zazaiafe2]

I really like the approach your blog takes towards shifting in this community full of "Just assume" "Just decide that you're in your DR" yada yada. Although that does work, and the law of assumption sure is real, I do believe in it. But its application (keyword: Application) to things like shifting is something I have no idea how to do and I'm sure I am not the only one who has this issue, especially if the DRs are very "different" from our CR (fictional DRs most of the time fall under this category) Our ego does indeed play a HUGE role in what our awareness experiences through the physical plane. The "Assume you're in your DR" does work but it then also has many other supporting factors for those it does work and I realized that by reading your posts. Its okay if it does NOT work for some or is really hard to follow through with lets just be honest rn instead of blaming people for "not persisting" or some other crap 😭😭😭 Because straight up using LOA, esp for a place you haven't even felt a breeze of, aren't even completely sure is real??? Can be really wonky.

I thank you for making posts that give ACTUAL STRUCTURE to shift.. that, simply using the LOA logic lacks. And I love how you do state that it is not a process but rather like an instant flick of a switch.

Honestly, I relate to this so much. I used to believe much more strongly in the law of assumption, but the more research I do and the deeper I go into shifting, the less I fully trust it as a universal explanation. I do think it's a tool, and for some people it works great, but assuming it's a one-size-fits-all rule is extremely misleading.

If we take the law of assumption seriously, then we also have to recognize that people have vastly different abilities to assume. I have a highly rational mind and tend to resist anything that feels irrational or unproven. For me to accept something as true, I often need either an explanation or a heavily altered state of consciousness (ASC) where my mind allows it.

Even when I practice hypnosis , I see very clearly how differently people respond to suggestion and belief implantation. For some, one session is enough to accept a belief. For others, it might take dozens of sessions,and still, some struggle. The mind's critical factor doesn't work identically for everyone.

If I still fully believed in LOA, I'd probably say it's been extremely oversimplified, and that some advice can even be harmful. For example, telling someone who's feeling frustrated to "persist" with no nuance can easily backfire and feed into a frustration loop, especially for neurodivergent people or people who cognitively analyze their emotions deeply. The problem is that a lot of LOA advice assumes everyone processes things like belief, assumption, and persistence in the same linear way.

Obviously, for someone who has shifted often, assuming "shifting is real and natural" will be a much easier belief to hold than for someone who's never consciously shifted before. Their awarness already has experiential confirmation. For someone without that, it's a different challenge.

Also, I 100% agree with you that shifting isn't really a process, it's instantaneous at the moment it happens. The "process" is the preparation beforehand. I don’t believe at all in the "3D lag" concept; not only is there no proof for it, but almost everyone who shifts describes it as immediate once it occurs. I think a lot of these "lag" beliefs are more like coping mechanisms or ways to comfort oneself when it's taking longer than expected.

As someone who practices hypnosis, I can confidently say: assumptions and belief implantation are way more unstable and nuanced than people realize. Teaching people that assumption alone is enough, without considering individual differences, does more harm than good for a lot of shifters.

I honestly had a lot to say on this, but to sum it up: I fully agree with your take, and i think it's a part of the spiritual meritocracy and individualistic tendancies.

[bitter-hibiscus]

Okay so you ARE being obtuse on purpose! Good to know! In that case this is the last you'll hear of me <3

You think that good morals are just "wanting to do good." Sure, Bruce wants to help people and he wants a peaceful city, but intention does not maketh the man. You know what does, though? Bruce's manipulation, his use of contacts in the police system to bypass laws, beating "criminals" to a fucking pulp, using mild torture tactics (again! Dangling people off of 20 story buildings is not something good people do!) and having full control to Gotham's goddamn power grid. Batman's fantasy IS based on fascism whether you like it or not, and you are not fucking immune to propaganda. Honestly, the fact that you even think Bruce is good just because he wants to Protect The Good Citizens is proof that said propaganda already worked on you! Good job! Learn how to fucking read!

Bruce didn't re-evaluate and change when Jason died, intratextually. He became more aggressive. Which, as stated above, is not an act absolved by his good intentions.

Jason's morality is also a fascist ideal, but it's overt rather than covert, like Bruce's, so it's the only one you with your fucking 5th grade analysis are able to fucking notice.

It's also really fucking funny of you to accuse me of ignoring the text and then say that Jason tried to get Bruce to kill Joker. That is not what he did. What he tried to do was kill Joker himself, and try to prove to Bruce that his inaction when it comes to actual murderers doesn't do anything helpful. And Bruce does break his inaction! By cutting Jason's throat open. If you read UTRH and think Jason's goal was to make Bruce a murderer you are fucking insane and just plain stupid. Bruce did that to himself.

I like how you talk about Roy and Kori being dumbed down as though that was a decision Jason Todd made personally, and not something that a real life sex offender wrote. Jason is lines on paper. He did not write RHATO. Also -- using PRE-CRISIS Jason's backstory as an argument is ridiculous. That hasn't been canon since 1985. Have you just not read a comic since then?

Oh sure, Bruce fails. He's never punished for that outside of his own, personal anguish though. That's what I mean when I say the narrative frames him as always correct. There are no consequences to his failure. Most other characters get consequence -- Dick and Helena and Barbara are great examples. But not Bruce. Because if he's affected by the law, by social rule, then the Batman is no longer a fantasy, he's just a man. And the narrative can't allow that.

I've read all of Jason's comics, and I have over 700 individual issues on Bruce and Dick both. Just because you're too dumb to understand what I'm telling you doesn't mean I'm not familiar with the source material. I'm not going to tell you to pick up a fucking Jason comic because you'd just interpret them all in bad faith, but I am going to tell you to pick up some fucking books on propaganda and how media conditions the masses into accepting violence enacted against them. Touch grass.

To be honest I think that a lot of people who share the anti Jason Todd sentiment don't even actually hate Jason. I think a lot of them hate what he forces the narrative to do.

Jason forces the subversion of the hero genre -- he's the single, most extreme proof that Batman's hero fantasy wouldn't be effective in real life, and therefore Jason showing up can take you out of the universe really fast really hard. A lot of people are here for what comics are meant to offer, the one man hero fantasy that makes you Feel Good, and Jason showing up doesn't Allow you to enjoy it! And if that's the case, you're completely justified in not liking Jason, he takes you out of the thing you enjoy.

I think a lot of you don't actually find his personality or acts annoying in of themselves, you just hate what those actions do to the genre itself. And I think once you realize that and start looking at comics like actual pieces of literature, Jason and shitty comics both will become a lot less rage inducing to you.

[rainbowrocketquotes]

LGBTQ+ Headcanons for Pride Month

Late as fuck but I've been Busy™ so uhh.

These are my opinions and they are subject to change! Feel free to dicsuss your own opinions in the replies but if y'all start arguing with each other in there I swear.

Giovanni

I dont know why but he and Ariana give off the vibes of that couple who have a joint sugar baby in a pseudo-polycule.

T4T silverspawn is my bread and butter but also I'm a multishipper so that ranges.

Imo he's either straight but an ally or a closeted bisexual that hides it behind allyship. We all know that guy.

Archie

Unlabelled. I don't make the rules, sorry. /j

No but on a serious note I think he just doesn't care to try and explain. He gives off the vibe of "guy who experimented heavily in college and kind of forgoes labels now" because he knows what he wants and he doesn't feel the need to try and define himself to other people.

I also am a fan of the trans Archie headcanons but I personally still don't see him labelling himself any which way in any regard tbf. He's just chill.

Maxie

Boykisser.

I don't really care which way he gets labeled most of the time but this guy likes men. Or at the very least he has definitely dated a man.

I don't really like the trans Maxie headcanon as much as some of the other trans headcanons for characters because I just feel like it buys too much into the common fandom tropes of "one member of popular ship must be afab and the other must he amab" with Hardenshipping being an incredibly popular ship, and "skinny white man = trans" being the most common trans headcanons. I'm not saying anyone who headcanons Maxie as trans is doing it for those reasons, and I have NO PROBLEM with people who headcanon Maxie as trans. Like, I'll still read fics and look at art where he is, and I don't mind it, I just don't like it personally for those reasons, and don't headcanon him as trans.

Cyrus

Abnormal views on gender/sexuality because of his time spent in the distortion world.

I personally don't think he cares what pronouns he's referred to by because he thinks it's a waste of time to correct people on something so trivial as a set of words, and he doesn't care how people percieve him.

In regards to sexuality, I also think he doesn't bother with labels, or really care about anything like that in general. I think he's probably on the asexual/aromantic spectrum, but it could also be interpreted as him just being closed off and weird like he is.

Personally I think if he bothered with labelling, he'd be Demiromantic. I'm not sure if he'd be cis or not but he probably still wouldn't care about pronouns or anything.

Ghetsis

Gay and homophobic /j

Honestly? I have no idea. I think he's probably very against the idea of wasting time with romance, especially in regards to what N is doing. But I don't think he'd be generally homophobic or transphobic. Probably just romancephobic /hj.

That's not to say I think he's necessarily on the ace spectrum, but I think he thinks he has better things to do. That he's against the idea of romance as an idea for the purposes of his ideals. He's a cult leader who wants to manipulate and use his son as a means to rule the world. He doesn't care what gender or sexuality N labels with, he just knows that by getting a partner he'd be straying from the plan he's trying to fulfill. Shrug.

Colress

I don't think he cares, but like in a different way than Archie doesn't care. I don't think he's explored his gender and sexuality enough to be comfortable forming his own opinion on how he identifies. He's scientific and needs proof one way or another, but won't actively go out and get the proof because he doesn't care that much. I.E., unlabelled. Doesn't care about his own pronouns.

Definitely is a "I assume you are bisexual until proven otherwise" truther, tho.

Lysandre

Very stereotypically flamboyantly gay, obviously, in the same vein as every Disney villain ever. I know I just said I don't fuck with stereotypes but not for this one. This idiot is home of sexual. Full stop.

Probably cis? But the kind of cis guy who would do drag for fun iykwim.

Guzma

Pan or Bi, 100%. Just screams sexual frustration like that. I physically cannot explain it but he just is.

Gender wise, I'm down with pretty much any headcanon for him. I think he's cis but cool with any pronouns in the way that a dude who is just comfortable in his masculinity is. Like if you call a guy who's normal "she" on accident he'll probably be like "haha, I'm a dude," and move on. That's Guzma.

Lusamine

Heteroromantic Bisexual. I cannot explain it, either, but she just gives me vibes.

"Every woman wanted to be a man at some point, Lillie, it's normal", and never elaborates. Probably Cis, but I'm squinting at her very hard.

I'm also cool with the transfem headcanons for her but sometimes people lean too far into the "trans people are always villains" thing and it gets... Weird!

! SURPRISE BONUS ROUND !

Rose

General cishet vibes from this guy, though I won't disregard any queer headcanons for him. I just think he and Oleana have some weird het situationship going on over there.

British /j

Volo

Some kind of gender something idk /ref

I don't know what he is but he definitely is not Cisgender and I can tell you that with confidence.

I think he's probably demiromantic or demisexual but I have a general feeling that he's somewhere on the ace spectrum. Idk if that's cliche or weird but I like this guy and I get vibes™ from him.

Also I know this is my Rainbow Rocket acount but I! Like Volo!! Contrary to popular belief!!! Legends Arceus is one of my favourite pkmn games.

Sada

Still have not finished Scarvi!! But she's bi. Have you seen her? She's bi.

I wouldn't mind a t4t headcanon with her and her husband but I don't outright hc her as transfem. I might, once I finish the game, tho.

Turo

Once again have still not finished Scarvi! But he's also Bi. Maybe homoromantic or demi on the side, but he definitely is Bi.

Might be a flavor of nonbinary, but that could just be the vibes I get from his weird little cunty outfit.