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#and was momentarily baffled
flower-biter · 6 months
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May I offer you some sleepy cats
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The one on top was my family's cat and the chonky one is my friend's. I have So Many pictures of him bc when he's not getting into fights he always seems to be doing something cute.
Blessings upon your head 🥹 and lil kisses upon the kitties’, if they will permit it 🩷 they are so cute!
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caterpillarinacave · 5 months
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You know what, maybe its just because I'm autistic, but it really baffles me how growing up autistic people are so firmly shamed for happy stimming.
Like to be so happy you can't do anything but move? Can't help but hum, or squeal, or flap? To be momentarily blinded by sheer happiness? So much happiness that youre ever rushing mind shortcircuts into nothing but feeling? How is that anything but wonderful?
How could you witness such a thing, such true emotion and tell them that they're being cringey and weird? How can you look at the person in front of you overflowing with joy, and tell them they need to knock it off, and sit still like a normal person? How can you see someone light up in such a sincerely human way, making their merriment visible to the world, practically made of pure happiness and tell them to stop?
How can be shown someones soul and say they should hide it away?
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archonsabyss · 3 months
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╰─..✶. [ Artist, and their Muse ]
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❒ pairing: Rafayel x Fem!Reader
❒ genre: smut [nsfw 18+]! fluff! romance
❒ warnings: shy virgin reader! first time sex! softdom rafayel! fingering! vaginal sex! unprotected sex! nudity! teasing! orgasm denial! vague mention of blood!
❒ word count: 4.5k
─❒ authors note: when the words keep flowing you end with a 4k+ fic. anyways, enjoy soft dom rafayel. smut took 10yrs of my life to write. It was so hard and frustrating. Hurt my wrists trying to finish this with the way I'm keeping my phone hah. Enjoy 💜
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Amidst the quiet solitude of his art studio, you found yourself unexpectedly forced backwards as Rafayel approached with an unreadable glint in his eyes. You couldn't help but feel flustered and surrender under the look he gave you as he gradually closed the distance, compelling you to place a hand on his chest in an attempt to maintain a level of distance that was not merely enough to calm the rapid beating of your heart.
"You're so close" Your gaze avoids meeting his, and the flames of desire surge as soon as he steps near. The moment felt strangely intimate with your fingers delicately pressing against the cotton material of his shirt and his round beady eyes seeking yours. Rafayel didn't beckon you solely to fetch his favourite dinner, especially when he had a personal chef at his disposal and a perfectly functioning phone to order it himself. The evidence of his little white lie became apparent as he nudged you backward while striding ahead.
"Close?" He queries, seemingly not understanding what you meant and his brows furrowed in contemplation, his gaze dancing over your countenance absorbing every nuance as if seeking inspiration to craft a portrait of your essence. There was a common misconception about Rafayel's passionate character– it wasn't easy to navigate, leading most people to misread his character or feel inundated by his eccentric personality. Meeting up with him as often as you did, led you to such a conclusion. Time with Rafayel was a constant experience in itself, particularly for someone like you who normally shied away and often felt nervous around such bright personalities. You were a stark contrast to his entire existence and at times you left torn between the desire to strangle him and the impulse to pinch his cheeks, yet despite the unfamiliarity of it; his spirited flirting and teasing with seemingly effortless wit, he remained easy-going which rendered any time spent together devoid of awkward tension, and as time passed you came to accept that it was the undeniable allure about him.
"Do you hate me?" His sudden question takes you by surprise, but the genuineness in it absolutely baffles you. There were only a few rare instances when Rafayel's witty persona faded away completely, unveiling a calmer and more serious demeanour beneath. His lips didn't form their usual smile rather they grew more serious, and his shoulders deflated rather than puffed up, contrasting with the usual clingy sassiness of his character. This was one of those nights where he laid himself utterly bare without restraints and it was evident in the way his eyes were solely fixated on you as he anticipated a response.
"Where did that come from?" You wrinkled your nose. "What makes you ask such a ridiculous question, Rafayel?"
"It's not ridiculous!" He exclaims, his boisterous personality momentarily slipping away before he clears his throat. "You hate me"
"Says who?!"
"Says your body language" He refutes, pouting.
"I don't hate you" You vigorously shake your head. What made him think you hated him?
"I'd beg to differ"
For a fleeting moment, your attention shifts from the minimal distance between you as you narrow your eyes scrutinizingly at him. While he always had a flair for the dramatic, this time it felt genuinely serious.
"What are you on about, Rafa"
Sensing the impending embarrassment of his rationale, his ears turn red and he wordlessly grabs your hand from his chest and brings it to his cheek, letting you feel the heat emanating from his skin.
"I don't understand what you mean"
"Rafayel" You swallow, growing flustered under such an intimate act. He attempts to dismiss the way you pronounce his name but he fails as it echoes in his ears with an undeniable submission.
He turns his head, and his lips meet the skin of your palm, planting a gentle kiss. You repeat his name a few times but he refuses to meet your eyes, focusing solely on the way your palm cradles his cheek.
It's when you try to pull away, does he finally meets your gaze with narrowed eyes, remarking, "See, you do hate me." as his grip on your hand remains unyielding.
"You do"
"But I don't" You insist, and Rafayel rolls his eyes in annoyance, "Tell me why you think I hate you?"
He huffs and confesses with a pointed tone, "Every time I try to touch you, you pull back. Clearly, my existence is truly despised if you retreat at every opportunity,"
His sarcastic remark catches you off guard with a problem you never expected. Your heart gets entangled, growing intensely flustered with such a confession.
What if Rafayel knew his advances were rebuffed solely because you were cautious not to misinterpret his intentions or inadvertently lead yourself on?
Lost in your thoughts, you feel your cheeks burning with heat. It takes Rafayel snapping his fingers in front of you to bring you back down to earth.
"What?" He scoffs as you stare at him. "Admitting you hate me? That's your loss, I couldn't care less. There are a thousand other fish in the sea! A million other girls out there in the world who would die to be kissed by me! Who cares if the one girl I want doesn't want me, right? My existence is just a nuisance to you."
Throughout his incessant rambling, the pout on his lips becomes increasingly noticeable and the words he utters do not match the emotions he's experiencing. In reality, his heart is gradually shattering into pieces at your silence, feeling as though he's facing rejection.
Never before in your life have you taken the initiative on your own accord but now it feels necessary. You extend your hand to cup the right side of his face and gently turn it towards you. Your thumb strokes his cheek in circular motions as you strive to maintain eye contact despite the shyness tempting you to look away.
"I don't hate you, Rafayel" You confess earnestly.
"Could have fooled me"
"I'm not lying, you jerk"
"Your wounds hurt me. Then tell me why you avoided me like the plague"
"Why didn't you accept my hand when I opened the car door for you?"
"Why didn't you allow me to rest my chin on your shoulder at the art gallery?"
"Why did you resist when I wanted to show you how to stroke the paintbrush to create a gradient?"
"Why did you avert your head when I attempted to give you a goodbye kiss on the cheek?"
'Why didn't you let me feed you? And recently, why did you try to pull your hand away from my face"
He was giving you a headache. Honest to God his rambling was excessive and you weren't sure if you even got all that but you nodded along.
"I'm not like you Rafayel. Those things... I didn't─"
"Didn't what?" He persists.
"If you rested your chin on my shoulder, the distance would become unbearable. If you taught me to paint, there'd be no reason to linger in your art studio, pretending I'm there to learn. And if you kissed my cheek, who's to say I wouldn't want more? And if you fed me... I might just have to adopt you and fit you in my little fish tank."
"I didn't want to misinterpret things. I'm not as straightforward and upfront with gestures like you are. If I took your hand, I feared I wouldn't want to let go!"
"The fish jokes are getting old. And besides, Cucumber is perfectly content in his tiny bowl, a little overfed but fine nonetheless; I can't believe you'd consider evicting him." He points out, and out of everything you said, that's the only thing he focuses on. You nudge his shoulder harshly in response.
"Maybe you have a point. Maybe I should just get a cat"
Rafayel freezes, head snapping at you. "You wouldn't dare"
You nod, challenging him, and your sudden boldness catches him off guard. "I certainly would."
"See, it's a blatant display of animosity. I'll reclaim ownership of Cucumber."
"You can't do that, Raf." You find yourself suppressing a smile.
"I will."
"No," You frowned, "I love that fish."
"More than me, it seems."
"Can't I love you and Cucumber both?"
"So you love me?" He blinks, his knack for selectively responding to specific remarks astounds you.
"Maybe I should just leave. Your sudden personality shifts are giving me a headache."
"No," He seizes your wrist and presses you against the desk behind you. A tin of paint topples off the edge and spews its contents. While you gaze at the mess Rafayel fixates on you.
"You love me"
You retreat into your shell. "No"
"You just said you love me! If you deny it, I'll think you actually hate me"
"I'm not sure if it's love just yet, but it's something," You admit hastily, not wanting to restart the conversation and contend with his overwhelming persistence.
"Guess I can work with that"
Rafayel is oddly compliant all of a sudden and it makes you suspicious. The entire situation is confusing and feels dubious. It's unclear what's happening between you two, and it almost feels normal like every other conversation you've had, if not for the underlying tension building between your chests and lower halves.
"Rafayel, what are you doing?" You frantically inquire, your heart betraying you as it beats rapidly with every centimetre he closes between you.
Rafayel inclines his face towards you and you turn your head to the side with closed eyes as he hovers beyond the boundaries of personal space. His nose delicately traced the contour of your jaw, forming a constellation from your chin to your earlobe, and you can feel every measured inhale and exhale he makes while your breath is momentarily suspended.
"Rafayel" You mutter his name in protest yet again, not refuting your enjoyment of his actions but sensing the irregular thumping of your heart you fear you might lose consciousness.
"What are you doing"
"Evading your personal space"
"Yeah l─" You inhale sharply, "I can tell, but why?"
Rafayel stops for a second. "Since you don't hate me for the moment, I plan to take advantage of being this close to you"
"H-How many times must I tell you, I didn't hate you"
"Yeah, yeah whatever. I'm not moving" He prattles, rolling his eyes and pressing his forehead against yours. "Do I make you flustered?"
The way you're holding your breath makes it evident, but he wants to hear it directly from your lips so your muster a weak, "Yes"
He nods and smiles with approval. "Now tell me, do you actually want me to move away?"
"No"
Your obedience kindles a thrilling excitement within him, like a flame fueled by your compliance. Each nod and acquiescence adds to the anticipation and it makes his heart beat in rhythm with your submission.
"Can I kiss you?"
A lingering hush punctuated by the rush of blood surging in your ears envelops the space after he requests consent, and you nod your head instinctively, agreeing before your thoughts or words can be articulated. The anticipation hangs thick in the air as you await the slow descent of his lips and your gaze flitted, searching for something in his eyes that bore unwaveringly into yours with a depth that is slowly becoming your undoing.
Pulled in by an imperceptible force, Rafayel bridges the gap and meets your lips in a fervent kiss with a passion you've never encountered before.
When his mouth slots against yours, an intricate play of uncertainty, desire, and experimentation ensues. Time seemed to stand still, suspended in the dance of your entwined souls.
Rafayel's hands tenderly cradle your cheeks, tilting your head back while pressing his body against yours as he angles his head to kiss you with a deeper sense of passion that renders you flustered and breathless when he eventually pulls away.
The birds' melodious chirps seem to celebrate this unexpected blossoming of romance as if their song is a serenade to the newfound connection that has finally come together.
You meet Rafayel's gaze with a timidity he yearns to unravel. He wants to pull you right back into another kiss and lavish you with myriad praises. He wants to take you by the hand and lead you to his room where he can tenderly place you on his bed and express the depth of his desire to love you.
His infatuation lies in the unspoken words that crash upon him like a sudden wave against the shoreline, threatening to erode the restraints he struggled to maintain. The weight of unsaid wishes presses on him and the carefully constructed barriers seem on the verge of slipping away in the face of overwhelming longing.
"Rafayel." Has any human voice ever sounded sweeter? It lures him into a sense of desperation, enchanting him to the point where he feels compelled to kiss you again.
In a matter of seconds, any other words you had to offer to fade into the collision of his lips against yours. Your mouth opens willingly, his warm hands cradling your face once more as the kiss intensifies with his sweet tongue swiftly intertwining with yours.
He has you exactly where he wants. The fact that you can’t help but lean into him is like a triumph for him. The way you willingly succumb to him is something he can't get enough of, and all he craves is to lead you to ecstasy. He wants more, and the moans escaping him make it abundantly clear.
"I want you, Rafayel... So bad" You confess, overcoming shyness.
Rafayel's eyes widen with curiosity, and his lower lip protrudes with a gentle breath as he lets out a whining sigh.
"Finally! And just so you know, there's no going back" He cautions, a warning lingering in his words as he shifts his hands to your hips, giving them a reassuring squeeze.
You're inclined to nod your head, grappling mentally with the weight of your confession. Yet, it doesn't change the undeniable truth that you want this, you want him, and that was all he needed to hear to lead you to the expansive couch positioned near the extensive glass window at the far end of the studio, the closest comfortable spot for what lay ahead.
"Well?" He mused and you reply, "What?"
You were inexperienced and jittery, nerves causing a slight tension in your posture, but Rafayel as always, was there to alleviate any tension just as he's done in the past.
He seats himself on the couch, spreads his legs and rolls his hips for comfort, the bulge in his pants evident and a testament to your plea. There are a few buttons of his shirt undone revealing a tantalizing glimpse of skin. He raises but a singular brow wondering why you're still standing idly when his legs have parted specifically for you.
"Come here"
Your feet carry you forward before your mind comprehends, and the next thing you know, Rafayel has you seated atop him. He flinches at the contact of you on his bulge but quickly wipes away any sign of discomfort when he notices your worried expression, thinking you might have hurt him.
"Wait" He suddenly blurts, "Stand up"
"One of these days I'm going to eat you out" He grins, and you struggle to resist the urge to moan.
You do with hesitancy and his fingers loop into your pants and tug you forward. "I'm going to take these off," He says, and you blush hard, feeling a surge of arousal course through your veins.
You observe as he unbuttons the top of your pants with intricate fingers, sliding them down your legs leaving you half-bare. His eyes glint mischievously as he peers up at you through his eyelashes, his face in line with your lower half as he remains seated on the couch.
Rafayel instructs you to turn around, guiding you to perch on his lap and you comply. He encourages you to relax and lean against his chest. His hands then place on your knees and part them enough for the cool air to breeze between your legs. Your panties cling uncomfortably and a wave of heat courses through your body.
"Breathe," He chuckles, sensing the tension in your body as he pulls down your panties, and you gasp as a rush of cold air greets you.
"I've never done this before, Rafayel"
His hands inch closer to your core, "Just breathe, baby" He whispers as his index finger delicately traces the contours of your pussy. "I'll go slow. It'll feel good, promise"
You inhale deeply, finding your inner courage and trusting him entirely. At first, Rafayel entered with just a single finger. You gasp, your body yielding to his touch. His finger explores delicately between your folds ensuring no harm as he starts tracing circles around your sensitive bud.
Your brows pinch in response to his movements, your back arching as your fists look for something to grab.
Rafayel grins, redirecting your hand to the nape of his neck while his fingers tease your clit, and as you grasp onto him for support he presses on your stomach to prevent your back from arching away.
There is no doubt in your fuzzy mind that Rafayel exhibits the same level of concentrated energy and finesse in propelling you to new heights as he does in his artworks. Every movement he makes is precise, mirroring the precision of his painting technique, akin to the deliberate strokes of a paintbrush caressing a canvas.
The interplay of his unpredictable movements and irrational spur of inspiration, coupled with the graceful gestures of his hand, harmonizes and forges an experience transcending the boundaries of conventional perception, leaving you with a sensation unlike any you've encountered before.
"Enjoying yourself?" He feels the need to comment when your nails dig into his neck but you're too fucked to comprehend anything he's saying which makes him chuckle into your ear and picked up his movements. You squirm in his grasp, tension building in your stomach, thighs aching, yet the impending pressure refuses to ease as he pulls back every time you think you might explode.
He will be your undoing, and all it takes is a single finger toying with your heat. You can't take the suspension any longer and shamelessly beg for more, his name leaving your lips desperately. He can't deny you like you've denied him and listens, inserting another finger but this time with less gentleness, employing his thumb to stroke small circles on your clit.
A breathy sigh escaped your lips as his fingertips tentatively yet deliberately traced your slick folds from bottom to top. He kissed your neck, feeling a surge of arousal run to his cock leaking precum beneath you.
He withdraws his fingers, admiring with pride the glistening evidence of your cum coating them while a moan is forcefully drawn from your throat at the sudden emptiness and build-up within your stomach just beginning for release. You exclaim his name as he cleans his fingers with a pop by sucking on them.
In a blurry flip of the moment, Rafayel swiftly scoops you into his arms and pivots you around, settling you onto your back as he gradually lowers himself on top of you. He kisses you hard and takes your legs, wrapping them around his waist as he settles between you. After months of resisting and denying your feelings, this is what it led to.
Rafayel hovers over you, staring down at your face and running his hands over your body. He groaned, the warmth seeping into his groin as he pulsed and ached with the need to be inside of your tight body. He positioned himself at your entrance and observed as your face twisted in pleasure. Then, he murmured soothingly as he drew closer and penetrated you, causing every muscle in your body to tense as you cried out and gripped onto his shoulders, the soles of your feet digging into his back.
"You drive me fucking insane"
He exhales sharply as your thighs tighten around him and your hands slip under his thin shirt. He's unable to bear the barriers between you any longer and kisses you one final time before breaking away to discard his pants and remove his shirt. He does the same with the remainder of your clothes, unbuttoning your shirt haphazardly and tossing it across the room where it sadly lands amidst a dissaray of paint he hasn't cleaned up.
"Rafayel! It hurts" You mutter with a headshake, stifling a sob and he nods, pausing his movements and stroking your cheek. He bends down, planting a tender kiss on your lips, muffling the gentle whimpers you emit. He remains in that position for a while before inquiring, "Does it still hurt?"With shameless selfishness, Rafayel exercised restraint throughout, feeling the tight grip of your pussy squeezing his throbbing cock and it drove him insane.
Fuck─ he wanted to ravish you.
“No─ N-Not really anymore.” You eventually responded with a gulp permitting him to continue. His earlier edging was a prelude to this, as your arousal coated your intimacy forming a natural lubricant. Rafayel proceeded to push deeper into you and your reaction remained most responsive.
Inch by inch, you took him in.
"That feels good" You moaned shamelessly and Rafayel attached his lips to your throat, bringing an otherworldly kind of ecstasy to you. Slowly, he sunk deeper into you. The initial discomfort of being stretched and filled gives way to overwhelming realms of pleasure coursing through your senses.
“It feels so good” You whine as he rolls his hips, biting his lip to contain a semblance of his sanity.
"I've had dreams of this" He admits, loving the way you're so willing to take him in even with the initial discomfort. "Dreams of you. My muse. You were right, after getting a taste I doubt I can ever be without you."
You nod your head weakly and Rafayel slides his hands into yours intertwining your fingers just as he bottoms out in you. "Shh," He quieted you with a gentle whisper, slowly commencing a gentle rhythmic thrust of his hips providing you with a moment to adjust. Yet, impatience took over and you rolled your hips, emitting a moan at the euphoric sensation that left your eyes rolling. Before long, Rafayel has undeniably picked him his pace and his actions are now characterized by a precise execution of snapping his hips against yours, his cock reaching the deepest recesses within you, and as he gains speed his thrusts delve even deeper, and your responses become increasingly animated. Your hands explored every inch of his shoulders, torso, through his hair and down his back. Your lips parted with each heaving breath he drew from your chest, while his lips fervently sucked on your neck.
The delightful singing of your moans, the way your face twisted in pain and pleasure, and when you constantly arched your back and found a rhythm in rolling your hips to meet his, Rafayel could hold himself back no longer and pumped his cock into your walls, infiltrating and memorizing every crevice. Upon seeing your breasts shake with the movement and your mouth agape, he pulled out and thrust right back in with a force that eroded any lingering shreds of dignity.
Still, you had the nerve to bite your lip and smile so seductively at him, saying, “It feels so good.”
Then and there, Rafayel knew that you weren't the demure innocent little fish ensnared in his trap from the start; you were the prey, teasing the hunter with the knowledge that escape was within your grasp, unmarred.
"Taking me all" He chuckles without mirth, a hint of the devil reflecting in the crimson hue within his amethyst eyes. "Such a good girl, aren't you little one"
The faint glint of his fangs becomes apparent when he smiles, tempting you to passionately kiss him at the mere sight.
God, you were so wet, so soaked for him.Rafayel cradled your face in the palm of his right hand, attuned to the clenching of your muscles around him and the loud explicit squelching of his cock driving into you. He sensed the imminent arrival of your climax.
"Cum for me" He demands softly and you can't refuse him, can't refuse the way he holds you as his cock pumps into you. And you cum hard and fast, your body convulsing in response.
Your head droops back listlessly as do your hands, and Rafayel's grin widens as if he's stumbled upon the perfect canvas for his artistry. Words seemingly elude your mind to articulate such an experience. It was transformative, stripping away every vestige of shyness and leaving only exhaustion in its wake. Your release trickles out, enveloping his shaft, propelling him towards his climax. Rafayel thrusts his member deeply into you, and with a groan intertwined with a whine, he climaxes inside you, filling you without mercy to the absolute brim.
"Fuck" He whines, his forehead pressing against yours as his body collapses onto you, ensconced within the comfort of your embrace. Together, you climax and ride out your high as your essence intertwines and spills out between you onto the luxurious upholstery of his couch, a touch of crimson blending with the mix.
Rafayel embraces you tightly, repositioning himself onto his back with you resting on his chest. He gently guides your head to rest above his heartbeat and keeps you securely in that position.“You okay?” He asked, placing a kiss on the side of your head.
"This wasn't how I expected my night to go" You confess sleepily, and Rafayel concurs, but neither of you is complaining.
"You need to pee" He suddenly says, though his motionless form indicates he's as reluctant to move as you are. "And we need to clean up"
"Just─ Just a minute longer, I love being like this" With your words, your head nestles into his chest, leaving Rafayel with no option but to comply. He holds you tightly, savouring the moment, believing it might be the beginning and the end of his resolve.
This night has sealed the deal for him completely. He is no longer an individual entity, and it's been that way for quite some time. Now, he unequivocally belongs to you.
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☣ copyright @archonsabyss all rights reserved // do not copy; steal; plagiarize; reword or repost my works to any other platform! No translations!! All credits to original owners of characters/anime/pictures that are not my own!
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laenordeservedbetter · 4 months
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Why?
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Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader (Daughter of Athena)
Synopsis: Percy sees something he never expected to see.
Warnings: Fluff, kissing, confused Percy, Clarisse slander (Percy), fear of spiders. lmk if I missed any.
This one-shot is based on this tweet.
A/N: Hello, lovely people. I'm back. I can't believe it's been almost a year since I last wrote on here. My writing skills got rusty, but I hope you enjoy reading anyway.
not my gif. || masterlist
Percy was walking with Luke as the latter continued showing him the camp facilities that they didn’t get to go over in the original tour when he sees a strange sight that makes him stop walking. He squints his eyes, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him. When his visions do not change, his eyebrows raise, almost going to the top of his head by how surprised he was.
Luke stops talking when he notices that Percy’s attention was elsewhere. He tries to follow Percy’s line of sight and chuckles when he does. “Oh, yeah. That.” Luke smiles, amused. “That happens pretty much every once in a while.”
“Should we help her?” Percy asks, mortified, as he refers to you. He felt uneasy, seeing you with Clarisse. She is the camp bully, isn’t she? People shouldn’t be leaving you alone with her. Something about the predicament he saw the two of you in seemed off. It shouldn’t be happening, that’s for sure. He steps forward, wanting to free you from the torture when Luke places a hand on his shoulder, preventing him from doing so.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Luke shakes his head, making sure Percy wasn’t going to make any more steps before he retracts his hand.
“Why are Clarisse and Y/n sitting with their backs to each other?” Percy looks up at Luke, knowing the older camper wasn’t going to let him interfere. The least Luke could do was answer his questions.
“They had a fight.” Luke explains simply, still with an amused smirk.
“Then why are they holding hands?”
“They get sad when they fight.” The raven-haired boy shrugs.
Percy doesn’t say anything, keeping up with his staring. It didn’t occur to him how creepy or weird it was, seeing how baffled he still is upon seeing you and Clarisse in the same room, and holding hands. It’s giving him the heebie-jeebies. What business did Clarisse have holding hands with one of the kindest people in camp? He didn’t like that idea, but there was nothing he could do about it. His only hope was that Clarisse doesn’t infect you with her bad attitude.
Meanwhile, inside the Athena cabin, you squeezed Clarisse’s hand three times, but you didn’t say a word. You were still pretty upset from the incident earlier.
Clarisse tried to look at you from her peripheral vision and even though you couldn’t see it, you knew that her face was ridden with guilt. She sighs, “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tossed that spider to you when we were in the woods, even if I was freaked out.”
You had been walking in the woods together, hand in hand, when a spider fell on Clarisse’s shoulder. Her natural instinct was to kill it, but she didn’t have any weapons with her and she was starting to panic, so she did the first thing her brain told her to do. She flung the spider over to you despite knowing full well that you were afraid of them.
You take a deep breath, staying silent for a few seconds before saying, “I forgive you and I’m sorry for yelling and cursing you.” Your head hung low in shame. That wasn’t your proudest moment either. The things you said would have made even Chiron blush.
Clarisse gives out a huge sigh of relief, momentarily letting go of your hand so she can stand up. She walks over so she can finally be face to face with you. “It’s okay, I forgive you. You were freaking out too.” She wraps her arms around you, meeting your gaze with a smile.
“I thought my soul left my body at that point.” You pouted, bits of distress still not wearing off.
She cups your face, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your lips. “Do you feel better now?” She asks with a soft smile.
You can’t stop the smile from spreading to your face, too. You wrap your arms around her waist and hug her from your position on the chair, holding her tighter for maximum comfort. Clarisse laughs at how you didn’t want to let go, even after two minutes have passed.
“I love you so much. You know that, right?” Clarisse states, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“I know.” You murmur happily against her, wanting nothing more than to stay in this moment forever.
Outside the cabin, about ten feet away, Percy Jackson could be seen with his jaw dropped and eyes wider than before. “They’re dating?!” He exclaims, looking at Luke in a panic. It seems that he didn’t connect the dots until you and Clarisse kissed. And even then, it seemed like it wasn’t true. He wasn’t concerned anymore, just confused.
Luke’s brows furrowed. “Couldn’t you already tell by the way they were holding hands earlier?”
Percy stares at Luke, his mouth agape, then back to you and Clarisse, then back to Luke again, feeling like he was about to combust because of this new information. “What? No. Why would I even—”
Luke pulls Percy along, cutting his rambling short. “You have much to learn, Percy. So much.” He walks ahead, heading back to the Hermes cabin. “Come on. I’ll fill you in when we get back to the cabin.”
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trblsvt · 1 year
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for the books | jeon wonwoo
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summary | wonwoo's students seemed intent on matching him up with a fellow teacher. he didn't really want to stop them, it was too funny for him to break up their fun. plus, he didn't mind the certain someone he was being "set up" with. genre | fluff, teacher!au warnings | none, i think let me know! word count | 2.2k words pairing | jeon wonwoo x fem!reader min | lowercase intended i literally put off my other works to write this! delulu era to the max! i advocate for women in stem!!! also! this is like an american high school-level setting. lily is so out of pocket LOL (believe it or not there is a girl just like her at my school). this was 100% self-indulgent
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"mr. jeon!" his student lily called. "so you're telling me that after all that, she still hasn't kissed him?" he looked up from his desk and looked over to his obviously distraught student. "lily! i didn't even finish it yet!" her friend mina yelled at her.
"i'm sorry! it's just so crazy how they didn't even kiss! even after they made up and he said all of that to her!" lily huffed.
"what did he say to her? i haven't gotten there yet either," daniel piped in.
"just read it! i'm sorry i brought it up in the first place," lily sighed and pulled out the worksheets she was supposed to complete after reading the book. he shook his head and went back to inputting grades into his computer. it was silly to think lily was just going to do her work. "mr. jeon, do you have a girlfriend?" she asked putting her pencil down. he paused momentarily, fingers hovering over the keyboard. "dude, that's so not cool for you to ask mr. jeon," daniel complained.
"what? we're reading this romantic novel, is it not fair to ask our english teacher if he's in a relationship?" lily replied, crossing her arms. "i mean we have to be reading this book for some reason."
"maybe it's just a part of the curriculum," mina rolled her eyes.
"do you seriously think mr. jeon is sending us subminimal signals about his love life through the books we're reading?" daniel asked.
"i don't know! maybe!" lily said. the three of them continued to argue back and forth at their table. wonwoo should probably stop this before the other students get irritated with the trio. "guys, i can assure you, i am not sending any messages about my love life. please get back to your work," wonwoo cleared his throat. he heard a disappointed noise, but pencils went back to scratching and pages started flipping again. soon it was the end of the class period and everyone was packing up. it was just lily. "next time, please refrain from asking personal questions in class," he asked.
"yes, of course. i'm sorry mr. jeon," lily bowed her head.
"it's alright. it can just be a bit distracting for your classmates. let's try to be more considerate."
"will do," she said, turning on her heel.
"oh and lily, just between me and you," wonwoo paused. "i don't have a girlfriend."
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"he said he wasn't in a relationship!" lily cheered. daniel stared at her baffled, "didn't he say not to tell anyone?"
"yeah, but i mean, he must know that i'm going to tell you guys. you guys don't seem as nearly as excited about this as i do."
"why would we be? he's single, it's not like you have a chance with him or something," mina commented.
"no! ew! i would never try to go after a teacher, are you crazy? i'm saying that this is a perfect opportunity for us to get mr. jeon a date!" lily practically squealed.
"a date? with who?"
"with miss ___, of course! who else? haven't you guys ever noticed that they spend almost every lunch period with each other? they're so cute together!"
"maybe they're just planning classes or something," daniel shrugged.
"um, hello? mr. jeon teachers english literature and miss ___ teaches physics b. what would they planning together?"
"touché."
"i think it's time to enact a master plan."
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"so everyone understands this equation, right?" you said, turning back to face the class. "tell me now, so i can help. this equation is the very foundation to magnetism, if you don't get it now i can't promise you'll do well in this unit."
no one put their hand up. you smiled, "oh well, i guess we just have a bunch of physic masters in this class. but seriously, let me know if you need help. you can start working on your homework packet now, this way if you have questions you can ask them now. i don't need your frantic emails at midnight."
you returned to your desk and flipped through some lesson plans. you didn't get to finish eating lunch today, so you took out your lunch bag. a small slip of paper fell out of it and onto the ground. you smiled to yourself and reached down to pick it up. "miss ___!" your student lily said, she was standing at the foot of your desk.
"yes, lily?" you answered.
"i have a question about something."
"have at it."
"it isn't physics related though." you looked up, slipping the slip into your pocket. "then, what's it about? do you need to go to the nurse?" you frowned.
"no it's nothing like that, but i was told by another teacher not to ask questions like this in front of the whole class. he said it was inconsiderate," she shrugged.
"oh, um, well i guess you can go ahead."
"are you friends with mr. jeon?"
you froze. mr. jeon? as in english literature teacher mr. jeon? mr. jeon you eat lunch with him every day mr. jeon? maybe they started picking up on something. "well, yeah, i guess you could say that," you coughed. "why are you asking this all a sudden?"
"well, i came by mr. jeon's class before lunch to ask him about an assignment and i saw you there. i didn't want to interrupt, but i didn't know you guys were friends," she shrugged, averting her eyes.
"oh well, yes. mr. jeon started at his position around the same time i did a few years ago. so we got close because of that."
"that's so- i mean, i'm sorry to pry. i was just curious. i mean usually i don't see english teachers and physics teachers talk that much. thanks!"
the whole exchange left you a little baffled.
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lily seemed determined to get you and wonwoo together. she began to pry more often and she was getting bolder one question at a time. she even asked if you were in a relationship and if you got you cute gifts for birthdays and holidays from your boyfriend. sometimes she got very bold and mentioned mr. jeon by name. "miss ___, don't you think mr. jeon is cute? you two would be so cute together." you had replied, "i don't think this is time or the place to talk about this, lily. please do your practice problems." you rolled your eyes, "i don't feel like i'm at liberty to answer that."
you couldn't bring yourself to actually discipline her or her friends (who had seemingly joined in on the deep dive about your love life). they were curious teenagers looking for gossip. hell, you were like that too. you felt it would be unfair to punish them for that, as long as it didn't get too inappropriate, you didn't mind. it was a bit endearing too.
you just had to push the thought out of your mind. it was time to go to lunch anyway. it was the perfect time to clear your head.
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"has lily been asking you some personal questions lately?" wonwoo asked, leaning back in his chair. god, he looked so handsome today. his glasses, pressed shirt, and ironed pants. "yes, has she been causing a raucous here too?" you asked, taking a seat at one of the desks.
"well, she asked me if i think you're beautiful," he chuckled.
you paused. you would be lying if you said you didn't feel anything for the man sitting in front of you. he was smart and kind.
"of course, i told her you are a lovely human being inside and out, and to get back to doing her project."
"funny, she was telling me that she and her friends thought we'd make a cute couple." he laughed at that, and it made your chest flutter. you loved his laugh. "cute couple, that's so cute," he gasped.
"yeah i know right. who knew our students would start trying to set us up," you joked. he nodded in agreement getting up after his microwave went off from the other side of the room. "it would be so funny if they actually succeeded, but it does seem a bit pointless at this point, right?" he noted.
"yeah, totally pointless," you agreed.
you and wonwoo, being set up, by your students of all people. it sure would be for the books if it happened like that.
what an absurd idea.
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the rest of the week went as usual, uneventful, but you did get to see wonwoo on the way out of the building and into the parking lot. he held his leather bag in his right hand. "on the way out today?" he asked. "don't you usually do tutoring sessions after school on fridays?"
"we just started a unit, and no one showed up after the fifteen-minute window. i'm out of here," you laughed. he smiled. you loved it when he smiled. "want to walk out together then?" he offered and pushed the door open for you. something about him was so calming and comforting. you smiled and averted your gaze to the floor. even after all these years, he made you a little nervous. you did miss the way he grinned when he caught your shy smile. he loved the way you smiled too. he couldn't wait to see it again, he needed to see it again as soon as possible. he was too lost in thought about the way you smile and the way your voice sounds, that he fell far behind you. "___, wait up," he called as you made your way through the faculty parking lot. he jogged to catch up to you and reached out to grab your hand.
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"i swear i saw him kiss her out in the parking lot," daniel insisted. "they were holding hands too!" at this point, lily was totally unmotivated to get her two favorite teachers together. not after miss ___ shut her down on numerous occasions and mr. jeon was just as friendly but unbothered as ever giving his most PG answers. "whatever, daniel," lily huffed. "they would be so perfect together."
"he's literally telling you that they're together, he saw them kissing!" mina exclaimed. lily rolled her eyes. they were all hallucinating just to make themselves feel better that it was wishful thinking. "true love isn't real!" she cried.
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"it's time to wake up, sweetheart," he mumbled. "you said you had lots of work to do today."
"yeah, well it's my day off too. i'll get to work later," his fiancé groaned.
"oh come on, i know you're desperate to do all that paperwork," he teased. he tugged on the warm body text to him to pull it closer to him. he loved waking up with his wonderful, beautiful, smart fiancé next to him.
he loved waking up next to you.
he knew the kids were asking about him and his love life. kids would be kids of course. "lily won't stop asking about my love life. it's funny since we both teach her," he said.
"i guess, she's never noticed the necklace with the ring hanging around my neck," you chuckled, nuzzling your face into wonwoo's neck. his arms easily wrapped around your body. he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "you know, lily asked me if i had a girlfriend the other week," wonwoo murmured.
"she asked me if i had a boyfriend too," you hummed. "i just told her that it wasn't appropriate to ask that in class."
"i said something similar, but i did tell her i didn't have a girlfriend."
you paused. why would he say that? he was very obviously in a relationship, well obvious to the two of you. he even gave you a ring and a nice dinner to cement your relationship. "i obviously couldn't tell that i didn't have a girlfriend because i have a wonderful, smart fiancé," he laughed. you breathed an internal sigh of relief, but you still hit him in the chest. "that's so stupid," you groaned. "you're catching everyone on a technicality." he thought he was so clever and funny, ever the wordsmith.
"it's so hard not telling the students," wonwoo whispered, and you nodded your head in agreement. he didn't know why the two of you didn't tell the students yet, but the relationship started a bit secretively, almost right after the both of you were onboarded. he guessed the two of you never got out of the whole secret relationship. it was a bit exhilarating keeping the secret between you and him, and the admin. he felt like a teenager again. "maybe we should ease them into it, but let's not let them think it was all them," you said.
"maybe it's time for you to start wearing the ring on your finger then," he commented pulling away to get a better look at you. "i can't wait for you to become mrs. jeon," he smiled.
"yuck, so corny," you rolled your eyes with a smile. "you need to stop with these cheesy sayings early in the morning." nevertheless, you leaned forward and kissed him. he kissed back easily, "come on, i know you like the little notes i leave in your lunch."
"i do, now be quiet and just kiss me."
"gladly."
he did have the whole weekend until he had to go back to school. at least you made the day a little better.
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min | im just in a silly goofy mood LOL. my poor attempt at humor and portraying what high schoolers are like. wonwoo being an english teacher just makes sense!!! reblogs and comments are always appreciated! not proofread at the moment (it's 1 in the morning)
tagging: @a-wandering-stay
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stevebabey · 1 year
Text
The drip in the roof of the trailer is what wakes Steve.
A steady plink! of water meeting wood somewhere above them. It always leaks a little in the trailer after it rains, like a gentle metronome of fat raindrops sneaking inside the cracks. While it used to annoy him, Steve just finds it soothing now.
The curtains Eddie had poorly shut the night before are askew just an inch, letting through a sliver of sunlight. A beam sneaks through, makes the room glow, walls painted golden. Steve revels in it and it’s warmth; lets out a yawn and stretches like a big cat, giving a soft groan as he does.
His elbow knocks into Eddie’s side as he does and Steve feels the familiar rush in his chest, fond affection filling every vein— and he loves it.
He loves that momentarily forgetfulness born from his sleepiness, where he forgets that he gets to wake up with someone by his side. Wake up next to Eddie, no less.
Steve loves it, adores it, because really what it means is he gets to remember it every morning.
He gets to roll closer and poke Eddie gently on the cheek, a small smidge of him just wanting to check if he’s real. If this, this love, is real and his. Eddie lets out a groggy groan, buries his face further in the pillow. Steve grins. Yep, he’s real.
Eddie makes another groggy noise and this time pulls his face out of his pillow slowly. He looks like a disgruntled cat, hair still stuck to his cheek, some small patch of drool left on the pillow. Eddie makes a soft ‘hmph!’ and one hand reaches up, wiping across his face lazily. His eyes peek open.
And as much as Steve loves his own secret moment in the morning, it’s blown out of the water by this every time — the moment Eddie sees him. Brown eyes see him and Eddie just softens. Like butter in the sun. Sinks further into his pillow and smiles, sleepy and wonderful.
Normally, they both let sleep comes and go, drifting across the sheets in half-hearted cuddles that Steve melts for every time. Today, Eddie’s smile grows into a happy grin. Then his hands are stretching out and he’s making small grabby hands across the sheets, urging his boyfriend over.
“C’mere,” he says, hands finding Steve’s side and pulling him, soft. “Gimme.”
Steve grins, heart flip-flopping. Goes without any resistance, shifting to snuggle up to Eddie, tucking up and under his chin as Eddie’s does his best to scoop him up in his arms. It’s warm. Eddie’s pulse is a small comfort to Steve as he rests his head upon Eddie’s chest, hands curled around his middle, thumbing at soft scar tissue. Thump-thump-thump, Eddie’s heart says, and Steve can somehow easily read the love in it; his stomach turns again, in a dizzy elated way.
“Mm, birthday boy,” Eddie hums, but he’s still so sleepy that birthday sounds more like birfday. Steve feels his heart jump in surprise — a moment in which he’s baffled Eddie knows. That Eddie remembers. The last couple birthdays… well, he hadn’t been friends with Robin til after his birthday in ‘85 and then, well, with everything in ‘86… It’s been awhile since someone has remembered is all.
He doesn’t mean to sound as surprised he does when he murmurs, “You remembered?”
Eddie hums again, a sweet loving noise. His arms around Steve tighten and Steve feels his heart keen when his lips brush across Steve’s temple. A gentle kiss is pressed there. It feels like everything he needs — this quiet small moment of wonder, a tiny moment of tenderness, just for Steve. He presses his own kiss back, lips against Eddie’s collarbone.
“S’look,” Eddie continues, dragging his arm off Steve to point somewhere on the wall. Steve follows his gaze and then— there it is, on Eddie’s calendar. Circled in red is April 29th. It’s covered in sloppy hearts, so much there’s no room for any word other than ‘Steve!!’ in the middle; his birthday. Marked so Eddie would remember, wouldn’t even dare the chance to forget it.
Eddie drops his arm, returning it to where it was, hooked over Steve’s side so his hand can run soothing soft touches down his back. He sighs again, another sleepy noise, and Steve could probably cry.
“Precious birthday boy, mm,” Eddie mumbles lovingly. “Lovely precious birthday boy,” he warbles on, voice gooey enough that Steve know he means it. Actually thinks that— that he’s precious, and lovely, and everything more. “What d’ya wanna do t’day?”
Steve tightens his cuddle and whispers, “Just this.”
He can feel Eddie’s grin, in response, and then there’s another kiss to his head. Just this. It’s the complete truth.
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mj0702 · 3 months
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The other Bronze – Pt. 3
For all the patient waiting people (like @valewosomtb) and my Bubs (I'm proud of you and always will be ❤️)
And please remember - this is pure fiction... so it doesn't need to make sense 🤣
You wandered the streets of Barcelona gotten lost a long time ago but not caring to open google maps.
“Seriously Luce.... kicking me out so you can... probably get some” you mumble to yourself rounding the next corner.
The next thing you knew was that you were sitting on your Ass with a beautiful girl across from you, looking just as baffled before starting to talk to you in spanish. You made the international known sign for “I don't understand” by shrugging your shoulders as you try to push yourself up again.
“Ehrm... damn... what was the spanish Word for English...” you mumbled to yourself before looking at the woman “Inglés?” you ask embarrassed
“Of course” the woman said laughing as she stood up herself offering you a hand “I said I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going”
“Oh god no, I wasn't looking... I... kinda got lost and am too lazy to open maps” you say before you wince as you push yourself up from the pavement
“Are you okay? You look like you hurt something” the woman asked concerned
“Yeah I'm good” you wave off, knowing fully well you weren't good. You definitely sprained your wrist – if not worse. Ugh – your sister will kill you. Such an inconvenience.
“Are you sure?” the woman asked you again this time with a little insistence
“Yeah, I'm sure – you speak very clear english for a spanish person” you said and tried to change the topic
“Oh I'm not Spanish – I'm in fact German... we learn english in school” she winked
“Oh German... now that's interesting” you muse, a smile tugging on your lips
“And why's that?” the woman asked
“I... don't know... I thought it would be nice to say that” you rubbed the back of your neck smiling embarrassed.
The woman laughed loudly “At least you didn't make any bad jokes about us not being funny... that's a plus” she winked before looking at you “Where are you from?”
“Born in Aberdeen, raised in Berwick-upon-Tweed... generally speaking – I'm from England” you grin
“What brought you to the most beautiful city in Europe then?” the Woman asked smiling softly
“Visiting family... Y/N by the way... I thought I should introduce myself before you declare me as unpolite” you continue to grin as you offer your left hand for her to shake
“Left Hand? You english People really are something else” she smiled before taking you're offered Hand “Caroline... friends call me Caro”
“I may or may not have sprained my wrist – that's the reason for the left hand... but yes, we're also something else... so tell me... Caro... what brought you to Barcelona” you tested the waters by using the Womans short name
She smiled “Feeling bold, are you? Assuming we're friends and using my Nickname without even asking”
Again you were thrown off guard by her forwardness “Ehrm... I thought if you tell me something like this, I... could just... you know – use the information”
This time the Blonde laughed freely “Don't sweat it... it's okay... Can I... maybe interest you in drinking a coffee with me?”
“Like a date?” you said confused
“More like a “I'm sorry I ran into you and put you on your ass” coffee” the blonde smirked
“In that case... I'll pay for yours, you pay for mine... I also put you on your ass” this time you smirked
“Deal” the blue eyed girl said smiling “I know a small coffee place not far from here if you're interested”
“Sure... lead the way” you said, your sprained wrist momentarily forgotten. That's until you wanted to put your hand into your pocket. Suddenly you got painfully reminded of your small incidence as you winced for a second.
“You are very gullible, you know... I could be a serial killer” the blonde said smirking
“It's statistically highly unlikely that two serial killer run into each other and then go out for a coffee” you shrug nonchalantly while the blonde laughed out loudly.
You arrived at the small coffee shop, which was a cute one. A little hidden away from the bigger streets, it immediately got calmer and quieter – for the first time since you touched spanish ground, you allowed yourself to breath. Caro took you through an Archway into a beautiful courtyard where she pointed to a little – tiny even – shop with three or four tables. You stopped in the middle of the courtyard and slowly spun around taking in the beauty of this place. The sandstone Walls looked like they could tell endless stories about colourful festive evenings, calm mornings and lovers.
“It's beautiful, isn't it?” the blonde German asked quietly
“I couldn't find the right words to describe this beauty even if I tried” you whispered back still looking around in awe.
“Let's get this coffee and you can stare some more” Caro teased but her voice still soft before she walked towards the little shop, greeting the Owners like they were family.
You sat down at one of the tables while still staring around, waiting for your new found friend to return. There was wild Ivy growing up the walls at some places making it even more mysterious and beautiful. Your companion joined you at your table smiling brightly.
“I gather you're a regular?” you grinned at her nodding towards the Shop
“What gave it away?” Caro laughed “The greeting or that I know there's a Coffee Shop so well hidden that not even many Barcaloneans know of its existences?”
“The Greeting and the fact that I didn't order anything...” you mused smiling “... and yet there are two cups of coffee being prepared”
“Good observation skills, I'm impressed” the German smiled “The owners are former Neighbours of mine... they helped me a great deal when I first came to Barca a few years ago and I still come around every time I'm in the area to say hi”
“That's nice... that you still come here to say hi” you say softly “... friendships like this are important... now... what am I getting?”
“I assumed you're a “Cortado” girl...” the blonde winked
“Huh... come again?” you asked confused
“Cortado... the best you could compare it to is a Latte Macchiato... It's an Espresso with milk... “ the German explained “Just... never call it Latte Macchiato... it's a Cortado”
“Got it... Cortado” you say serious, trying to pronunciation right as you repeat the spanish word
“Sounds good” Caro grinned as your coffee gets served by an elderly Woman “Gracias Nana” the blonde grinned graciously
The two of you drank your coffee in silence before starting to talk about nothing and everything at the same time. You really enjoyed the time with the blonde, who was very easy to get along with. She was funny, witty and light-hearted. You shared a few good laughs while she also taught you some real spanish (unlike Mapí did) so you would at least be able to order your coffee the next time on your own. In her company you absolutely forgot the time – which resulted in also forgetting your “engagement” with Keira.. and Alexia... and Lucy... and Mapí. As the sun started to set you realised that you might talked longer with the German as you planned – and that your Phone was dead.
“”Ehrm... I really have a good time... I REALLY do... but... what time is it?” you asked embarrassed after you checked your – very VERY – dead phone.
“Just before 6pm” your new friend answered with a glance at her watch
“Uh oh” was the only thought on your mind which also made it out of you verbally “How far is that football place from here?”
“Camp Nou? About 30 Minutes, why?” Caro looked at you confused as you try frantically to restart your Phone.
“I'm dead... I'm so SO dead.. my Sister is going to kill me” you said panicking “I was meant to meet her at Camp... Nope at 3”
“Yeah.. you might be a little late for that” the blonde said awkward “Come on... I can either get you an Uber or I deliver you – and take the blame... or should you rather go home?”
“Ehrm... I don't really remember where “home” is” you confessed embarrassed, rubbing the back of your neck.
“Camp Nuo it is then... come on” your new found friend said smiling already standing up.
You follow suite standing up rummaging in your pocket pulling out the 20 Euros that Lucy gave you putting it down on the table
“Leave it... it's covered already” Caro said grinning pushing the 20 back into your hands.
“But..” you said dumbfolded looking at the bill in your hand
“Mauro and Valeria are family... it's on the house” the blonde winked and started to walking away after yelling a goodbye towards the elderly couple.
You stumbled after her trying to keep up “But we had a deal”
“Next time” the german waved off already a few steps in front of you her mobile in her hand ordering an Uber.
You just needed to wait around five minutes for a car to pull up and Caro opened the back door
“Your chariot awaits, my lady” the german grinned waiting for you to climb into the backseat
She gave the driver the destination and you were on the way towards Camp Nuo. As the Uber pulled up you immediately spotted a small group of people.
“I'm so dead” you mumbled as you saw one of them roaming in front of the group a mobile phone in her hand before it makes the way to her ear to just be brought back down seconds later
“Let me guess.. the one trying to call you is your sister?” the blonde german smirked at your frozen like state pushing you out off the car following closely behind
“Can we just drive off a...” you started but got interrupted by loud angry yelling
“Y/N BRONZE!!!! ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS???!!!”
“Bronze??” Caro asked confused “As in Lucy Bronze?”
“My sister” you mumbled quietly as you took cover behind the blonde
“Oh my god” the blonde whispered shocked
“Is she coming over??” you asked from behind her not daring to look
“She tries... other people holding her back... is that Alexia Putellas?” your new friend mumbles back standing frozen in place
“Probably” you whispered “You seem to know players... is Keira Walsh in that huddle somewhere?”
“I think so... I mean I'm not sure” the german answered lowly
“I call out for her and you have to tell me if someone reacts, okay?? KEIRA????” you yelled from behind Caro hoping that Keira was still around
“Yep... someone just looked over” your german friend said as Keira looked over
“Good.... can you bring me over to her without Lucy noticing?” you questioned
“Ehrm... this is Lucy Bronze we're talking about.... I don't think there's anything that goes unnoticed by her” Caro mumbled back
“You give her too much credit” you rolled your eyes behind the taller woman “Okay... maybe you could distract her and I run over to saftey – namely Keira”
“How should I distract a world class defender? Have you seen the stuff she pulled off at the Worldcup??”
“Ask her for a Autograph or something... go fangirling” you said pushing your friend forward.
“Absolutely not” Caro said shaking her head “Ooooooh... they're coming over”
“Okay...” you said panicking “You go left, I go right”
“You do realize that they have zero intrest in me, right?” she asked you raising an eyebrow
“Damnit” you swore quietly
“Cariño” you suddenly hear behind your human shield “would you mind stepping around this nice woman”
“No” you mumbled now grabbing Caros shirt
“Cariño” Alexia said but you heard her warning tone “I promise Lucia won't hurt you”
You peeked around your human shield to see Lucy a few feet away flanked by Ingrid and Ona and her face showed pure fury. Alexia stood right in front of Caro and you acting like a mediator.
“It wasn't my fault, I swear” you rushed out but stayed behind the german
“I didn't say it was but we were very worried” the spaniard said calm “now please step around that poor woman who you roped into this”
“Her name is Caro and she's german” you said still not moving from behind her
“Hola” Alexia said to your friend not sparing her a second glance “Do not make me get you out from behind her”
You reluctantly step around Caro standing now next to her your head hung low
“Thank you” the blonde spaniard said before she grabbed your wrist pulling you away a bit
“Alexia please” you digged your feet into the ground trying to stop the unievitable “She'll kill me and it was really an accident”
“She won't kill you stop being so.. dramático” Alexia said calmly as she pulled you over to where the others were standing.
You looked back over your shoulder towards your new friend who had a sorrowful look on her face waving slightly before turning around ready to leave
“Wait” you called out to her “I still owe you this coffee... Alexia please... One minute, okay”
Alexia stopped and let go of your wrist turning around to you
“You can't out run me... even if you try...” she warned you
“I just want to make sure there's a chance I can pay back my depth” you rolled your eyes
You quickly walked back to the german pulling out that 20 Euro bill scribbling your number down pushing it into Caros hand
“Call me... when I charged my phone again” you smiled then turning around walking back to the waiting Barcelona captain
“Wise choice not trying to run” Alexia said smiling slightly
“It's not like I would come very far” you shrugged nodding towards the bunch of football players standing a few feet behind Alexia
“True... now come one – you have to explain quite a bit” the blonde smiled encouraging at you pulling you along towards the small crowd
“Do you actually know what I just went through???” Lucy yelled the second you were close enough “I thought you.... I don't know... got killed or laying dead in a ditch or something!!”
You stepped behind Alexia hiding behind her. You knew your sister loved you to death so her yelling at you was bad
“Lucia” Alexia warned noticing how it effected you “We said no yelling... explain what happened Cariño”
You shook your head taking a step back just to feel someone cutting off your escape route. When you looked around it was Keira who had a blank look on her face
“It was really an accident Kei... I swear... Lucy gave me money and said I should go to the next Starbucks... I didn't want google the route, so I got lost and just wandered around... I met Caro because I ran into her and put her to her ass so I wanted to apologise by buying her a coffee and she said she knew a nice place and so I went with her... it was a really cute place and I forgot about time and when the sun set I checked my phone to see it died” you said talking one mile an hour trying to convince her that you didn't want to cause trouble on purpose.
Keira took a deep breath listening closely to your rant before holding up a hand
“Bitsy do you realize how much you had us worried... I mean I'm used to you wandering off but you don't know this city – as beautiful as Barcelona is, it can be dangerous... you don't know where to go and where to stay away from... hell Bitsy you don't even speak the language” she said and you saw that Keira held herself back
“I really didn't mean too” you answered sadly looking down
“I know... but that doesn't make it any less scary for us” the englishwoman said quietly before engulfing you in a bear hug.
“Will she kill me?” you mumbled into Keiras shoulder as you hugged her back
“No” the englishwoman chuckled “she probably handcuff you to herself... or bring back the dino-harness”
“Ugh... please don't let her” you groaned being remembered of one of the most embarrassing things Lucy ever done to you
You were about 10 when Keira took you to Lucy who was playing in Lyon at the time. They decided it would be a good idea to go with you to the park so you can power yourself out. Needless to say that you indeed used the whole park – much to the dismay of Lucy who had her first ever panic attack because she lost you. After that incident she immediately bought one of these kiddi-leashes to keep you in check. And not only did she make you wear it when you three were out in privat – oh no... she'd made you wear it when she went to training. So the first time you met worldclass players like Wendie Renard, Amandine Henry or Dzsenifer Marozsán you were strapped in a kids harness which had a dinosaur design – to be exact a dino whose biting his own tail - with a leash attached to its back. Looking back now it was probably the saftest – but also the most embarressing - option for you since you would have definitely wandered off exploring Stade Gérard Houllier and probably have gotten into trouble somehow. So you spent a whole training being tied to post next to the pitch solmley to the fact that Keira had something else to do and couldn't take you with her.
Now as Keira hugged you tightly and brought back those memories which resulted in you pressing your face into her shoulder. Just as you got comfortable against Keira you got ripped away from her embrance and found yourself at the receiving end of another tight hug.
“Never EVER do that again, Bubs” your sister mumbled into your hair “You can't just disappear like that... I was so SO scared”
“I'm sorry, Luce” you mumbled back thankful that she got over her initial angryness
“Are you okay? Nobody hurt you, right? Who was that woman?” Lucy fired question after question as she pushed you backwards to take a look at you
“I'm good Luce... really” you said hiding your slightly swollen wrist “That woman was Caro... I ran into her and she helped me getting here”
“You can't just go with strangers, Bubs... I thought I drilled that into your head back in Lyon” your sister said and looked at you somehow helplessly
“It wasn't like I knew where I was or something” you rolled your eyes “She seemed nice and she really helped me”
“Cariño” you suddenly heared behind you again and it made you jump a little
“Hm?” you hummed carefully turning around facing Alexia
“Are you really okay?” she stared down at you and you knew that she knew.
“Yes... yes I am” you tried to sound convincing but your voice betrayed you at the end
“Oh my god, you aren't” your sister exclaimed “Tell me.. you did get hurt, didn't you?! Is it bad? Do you need an ambulance? No wait... I drive you... Ona... get the car – we need to go to the hospital and you need to translate”
“Lucy!” you yelled “I'm fine... no ambulance, no hospital... calm your tits”
“You know you were never good at lying, Bitsy” Keira grinned “And if even Lucy picks up on it, then it's a really bad attempt”
“I'm not lying” you pressed still hiding your injured wrist
“Are we stretching the truth again then?” Keira asked knowingly
“Maybe” you said, looking down starting to kick the pavement embarrassed
“Show me immediately” Lucy demanded and already started to inspect your face moving her hands down to check your shoulders
“Keira” you whined trying to get away from your sisters prying hands
“Lucy stop it... it's her left wrist” the englishwoman rolled her eyes
“How did you... outch Luce” you started as your sister grabbed your wrist making you hiss out in pain
“You're not as sneaky as you think Bitsy” Keira grinned
“But I... Ow Lucy... that hurts man” you said bewildered before your sister put a little pressure on your wrist which hurts a LOT
“You tried to hide it very well – yes you did” Keira chooed and pinched your cheek “But not well enough for me or Alexia”
“Why would you hide something like this, Cariño?” the barca captain wanted to know
“You saw how she reacted and she didn't even know I was injured... OW!” you said nodding towards your sister while Lucy was prodding your wrist
Alexia delicatly took your hand out of Lucys hands and inspected it closely turned and stretched it carefully. You hissed at some of the movements even trying to pull away at one turn but one stern look from the blonde spainard made clear that you wouldn't get away
“It hurts” you mumbled as you tried to pull away again
“I bet” Alexia said quietly still inspecting your wrist “Looks like a sprain but to be sure you need some... radiografía”
“I need WHAT?” you squeaked shocked and scared at the same time
“Ona... what is radiografá” the spainard asked her teammate
“X-Ray.. you need some x-rays” the young catalonian said
“HA” Lucy exclaimed in a “I told you so”-tone
“Nooooo” you whined and JUST stopped yourself from stomping your foot
“Come on Bubs...” your sister said lovingly as she laid her arm around your shoulder and pulled you towards her Cupra “... I heard the spanish hospitals are quite an experience”
“Keira” you whined begging looking at her with big puppy eyes
“I'll meet you there okay?” the englishwoman said reassuring
“Excuse me... I'm there with you, you don't need to whine for Kei” Lucy said accusing
“But Keira knows everything about me... you're like a piece of swiss cheese sometimes” you said embarrassed
“I know EVERYTHING about you” your sister exclaimed outraged
“What's my blood type?” you raised an eyebrow
“Red” your sister shrugged as she opened the back door of her car for you
“Nope... uh-hu... I won't let you take any responsebility or make any medical decision when your answer is “Red” as a blood type” you shook your head fast
“Bet Keira doesn't know either” Lucy rolled her eyes looking over towards her fellow england teammate
“AB positive” the blonde said before entering her own car
“Seriously??” Lucy exclaimed throwing her arms up in annoyance
“I'm driving with Keira” you said quickly trying to get into her car
“You're not” your sister grabbed your shirt pulling you back “Stop being a child and get in the car”
“Then I want to ride shotgun” you said stubborn
“Ona is riding shotgun” Lucy said calm
“Ona is what?” the short woman asked confused pointing at herself
“You front” Lucy pointed at her girlfriend “You back” she pointed at you
“Why?” you whined again
“My Cupra has a lot of buttons – you will push all of them and probably break it” your sister explained
You huffed offended but climbed into the back of the sleek black car.
“Fucking finally” Lucy sighed and rolled her eyes after she closed the car door
“Be nice... she's upset” Ona said over the roof opening the passenger side door climbing in
“I'm upset too” your sister mumbled getting into the driver seat and started the car to drive you to the hospital.
The drive only took 15 minutes but for you it became nearly unbearable. You hated hospitals – with a passion. You had to spend some time in hospital when you were about six years old due to a burst appendix and since that time it was a mission to get you to put a foot in said buildings. It took Keira a lot of bribing to get you to visit Lucy when she had her knee surgery. That's how bad it was – you wouldn't even enter a hospital for visiting others.
“Come on, Bubs... let's get this wrist checked out” Lucy said softly as she leaned in the open car door. You didn't even noticed the car came to a halt before being deep in thoughts what could go wrong with a simple check-up. They could discover something worse and will keep you in there and probably maybe surgery and something goes wrong and you're going to die on that table. You decided right there and then you won't enter the hospital – there was a high risk of dying and your life just begun.
“Bubs?” your sister tried again seeing you spiraling, your forehead showing wrinkles you keep biting your lip your eyes staring into nothing
“Let me... you know how she gets about hospitals” Keira said softly arriving just in time to see you in distress “Get her checked in, I'll get her in there okay?”
“Kay... thanks Kei...” Lucy sighed then looking at Ona sheepishly “you need to help me... these forms are probably in spanish”
The short catalonian grinned “Aren't you around long enough to know basic spanish by now?”
“Speaking it... not reading it” Lucy mocked her girlfriend
As the two Barca players entered the hospital to get you checked in for your wrist Keira slipped into the backseat of Lucys car right next to you.
“Hey Bitsy” she said quietly trying to get your attention laying her hand carefully on your knee
“I don't want to go in there, Kei... I'm going to die” you said in a monotone but slightly panicked voice
“You're not going to die” the blonde chuckled “They'll do the same as Alexia did, test your ability to move in different directions then decide to take some.... how did you always refer to x-rays when you were younger?”
“Bone pictures” you mumbled
“They will take some bone pictures see that nothing is broken, then either put a simple bandage or a splint on it and we're out again – if you're good, I tell Ona to tell them to give you the good painkillers” Keira tried to walk you through whats most likely to happen.
“But if they discover something wrong with my wrist and they want to do surgery and something goes horribly wrong and I die on the table?” you looked at your comfort person horrified
“Not going to happen, Bitsy... It's just a simple check... and you have too much movability for it to be broken... it's just a sprain, okay?” the blonde englishwoman smiled reassuring
“You promise?” you mumble leaning into Keira
“I promise... now come on... your sister already came out the entrance looking for us three times now” Keira smiled at you
“She should calm her tits...” you rolled your eyes annoyed
“She was so worried, Bitsy... her session today was shit because she felt one guilty for kicking you out and two she was scared that something happened to you... I know you're a big girl now and you definitely can look after yourself but this is still a unknown city to you and honestly Bitsy – if you take a wrong turn you could end up in a very bad area and get killed”
“I really didn't mean to worry you...” you mumbled ashamed
“I know... but cut her some slack... she loves you to bits... she would do everything for you – always have and always will do” the englishwoman smiled while opening her side of the car taking your right hand into hers pulling slightly for you to follow her
“Took you long enough” Lucy whispered so only Keira could hear her
“We're here, aren't we?” the fellow english fired back a little annoyed
“Ona is talking to the nurses if there's anything they could do to get us through faster... I know every minute spend in here she's more likely to bolt” Lucy talked quietly always having an eye on you as you clutched Keiras hand hard.
“She's scared... she's convinced they'll take her in for surgery and she's going to die” the blonde explained as she let you squeeze her hand to the point where it became numb.
“Is there anything I can do?” your sister asks her ex-girlfriend getting a little concerned herself
“Hold her? Tell her you won't leave” Keira said simply and the second she finished Lucy was out of her seat, crouching in front of you
“Come here Bubs... just like old times” she smiled at you before prying your hand off Keiras and pulled you forward so you had to stand up. She then sat down in your place and now pulled you down into her lap holding you tightly
“I've got you Bubs... you know I won't leave and everything will be over quickly” your sister mumbled into your hairline as you laid your head on her shoulder getting tired after your long, eventful day. You were just about to close your eye for a long needed nap as a nice looking young woman with light blue scrubs and a white lab coat called out your name
“y/n?” the doctor called out and Lucy nudged you slightly as Ona made the doctor aware that you were infact there
You slipped of Lucys lap but didn't move until your sister pushed you forward always having her hand on your back.
“I think Ona should come too... I don't speak spanish and yours is probably shit...” you mumble tiredly
“I'll let you know that I speak excellent spanish, devils spawn” your sister growled back but you heared that it held no bite
“You're probably not even able to order a coffee” you spoke quietly as you followed the doctor
“I can even order an apple pie on the side” Lucy smirked at you – knowing it would ease your nerves a bit since this is the only thing you always find the most important to learn first.. how to order food - as she pushed you through the door of the trauma room closing the door behind you so your exit was blocked and you couldn't run off.
It went just as Keira promised you and nothing bad happened. The woman palpated your wrist in several different places moved it around a bit and decided to take some x-rays to be sure. After three failed attempts to take some pictures of your wrist without Lucy in the room the nurses begrudgingly allowed your sister back in the room. The moment Lucy stepped in your line of sight you relaxed and held still for the few minutes it took the nurses to take the x-rays. It wasn't really your fault that you panicked when they told you – in spanish of course – what they wanted you to do and you got “slightly” irretated when they just grabbed your arm. At least you didn't bite anyone this time. Now you were seated in the trauma room again waiting for the doctor to come back to review your pictures and tell Lucy what her treatment plan was who then would tell you. The woman looked at the pictures closely before speaking to your sister.
“You have a really bad strain.. nothing broken, just really really badly sprained wrist... you'll get a splint for now and as soon as we're home we'll ice it” your sister told you softly holding your good hand.
“Okay” you said carefully not trusting the process
“You're going to be okay Bubs” Lucy soothed you “just a splint and we're on our way home, okay”
“Do they have cool colors?” you asked quietly
Lucy turned towards the doctor repeating in spanish what you just asked
“Which color do you want?” your sister asked you
“What are the colors of Real Madrid? White and Gold if I'm right, right?” you grinned wide at Lucy who looked betrayed
“Hell to the no” Lucy exclaimed outraged “In no way you enter my home in these colors... what a disgrace”
“White and gold?” you asked the doctor directly but she just looked at you bluntly so you decided to take a different approach
You stood up – slowly so your sister wouldn't think you're trying to bolt – going to the door, opening it and yell from the top of the lungs for Ona. The small Player came sprinting down the hallway coming to a skittering halt in front of you
“Yes?” she said a little panicked
“What's white in spanish?”
“Blanco, why?” the blonde spainard looked at you confused
“And gold?” you smiled at her
“Oro” she looked even more confused than before and it didn't help that Lucy groaned behind you
“Blanco and Oro, sí?” you turned around looking at the doctor grinning from ear to ear
“Sí” the doctor grinned leaving the room
“I can't believe you” Lucy exclaimed throwing her arms up in defeat “using my girlfriend for your pettiness”
“What just happened?” Ona asked getting more confused by the second
“She wants a splint in the colors white and gold...” Lucy groaned
“That are Reals colors” Ona exclaimed shocked
You just sat on the bed grinning widely as the two women in front of you started a discussion in spanish. Soon the doctor came back with a white splint with gold around the edges showing it to you
“Tanto?” she looked at you
“Ehrm... sí?” you answered unsure looking at Ona for help
“Sí muchas gracias” the spainard smiled politely
You got your split fitted to your wrist and with a description for some – apparently very good pain meds courtesy of Ona – you leave the hospital with your entourage of three world class football players.
“See Bitsy... nothing bad happened... I’m proud of you for not bolting” Keira smiled warmly as you crossed the car park.
“Yeah Bubs... I’m actually REALLY proud of you... I know it’s somehow a big deal for you but you took it like a champ” Lucy also smiled widely as she kept her arms around your shoulders keeping you close to her side
“Real colors, I can’t believe it” Ona mumbled next to Lucy “and I helped... what’s next? Sitting in the Real section at the El classíco?”
You laughed at Onas antics “Get used to it, Batlle... you’ll get used and abused from me until there’s nothing left to squeeze out of you” you laugh
“Welcome to the Family”
Now it was Lucy who burst out laughing with Keira following suite also laughing heartwarming. Onas face showed pure horror as you four reached the cars.
532 notes · View notes
hcuyk · 7 days
Text
OUR INFERNO | CHAPTER ONE
SYNOPSIS ✧ despite being your greatest archnemesis/rival/enemy/frenemy/whateverthefuck he was, haechan had always been by your side. that changed when your boyfriend was brought up, creating a newfound rift in your whateverthefuck relationship with haechan
PAIRING ✧ rival!haechan x fem!reader
GENRE ✧ high school au, enemies to fwb, angst, smut, fluff(?), humor(?) (these mfs bicker a lot), pining
WARNINGS ✧ 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT — cheating, profanity, mentions of physical fight/bruises, underaged drinking, obsessive/possessive haechan : NSFW TAGS :  outdoor/semipublic sex, dubcon recording, spit/drool/tears, oral and fingering (fem receiving), penetration, scratching/ripping, humping, minimal praise, degradation, sub!hyuck for 0.002 seconds, petnames (princess, good girl, babe/baby, slut)
WORD COUNT ✧ 19k
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≡ [ OUR INFERNO EXCLUSIVE ] @flwoie — fill out the form or comment/send an ask/dm to be added!
. . . . . . OUR INFERNO M.LIST ✩ next [ TWO ]
⋮≡ [ PERMANENT TAGLIST ] @armysantiny @nyujjan @the-kpop-simp @sunwoosberrie (lmk if you prefer to be tagged for both, or for only hyunjae/haechan!) — fill out the form or comment/send an ask/dm to be added!
NCT DREAM MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION
AUTHOR'S NOTE : haechan's version for the original our inferno is finally here! i hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it <3
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PART ONE: CHASING THE SPARK (THE FIRE TETRAHEDRON) — fuel, oxygen, and heat | CHAPTER ONE
“Genuine question.”
“Shoot.”
“Who the fuck does Haechan actually think he is?”
Unphased by your up-and-coming rage rant, Jaemin resumed snacking on the protein bar he had brought with him. He tossed his free arm over the camera equipment and backpacks sitting next to him on the bench, watching you stride back and forth within one of the many hallways in the recreational center. 
“Well, he is your boss.”
“No, he’s the student executive producer,” you corrected, your legs unwavering as you kept a consistent pace to release your frustrations. Jaemin shrugged and tossed one leg over the other, staying relaxed despite the hot fumes emanating from your upright and angered figure. You paused momentarily to look him in the eye. 
“Emphasis on the student,” you clarified.
“Emphasis on the executive, Y/N.”
Baffled at how he was defending your greatest archnemesis (well, more like your greatest frenemy), you ignored his rebuttal and started pacing again. Your steps slowed as you envisioned the sensations you experienced just minutes before, back when you, Jaemin, and Haechan were at the indoor pool to report for your school’s broadcasting channel. Technically, you were the one reporting and filming while Haechan was the subject of interest, and Jaemin was there for physical support. 
Chills latched onto your skin as you remembered what it felt like to have Haechan’s bare torso looming over you, his eyes peering over your shoulder to glance at your footage. While staring at the camera, his gentle, irregular breaths would continuously hit your skin. Water from the pool would trickle down his hair and into your shirt, reaching your backside. When it happened, you could barely comprehend Haechan’s ‘advice’ and instead focused on feeling every cold droplet travel through the crevasses created by your spine. You winced at the thought of that happening again, yet somehow you could still hear his irritating voice near your ear, telling you all the reasons why your B-roll of his lap swimming was ‘trash’ and ‘unusable.’
For a moment, you stood there in the hallway frozen, unsure of how to move, before realizing you were just reliving a moment from earlier and that Haechan was still in the locker room changing.
“I’m going to make a complaint,” you declared, turning back towards Jaemin for his encouragement. Alternatively, you were met with the sight of your best friend completely failing to conceal his judgment and disapproval towards your suggestion.
“Against Haechan? You gotta be kidding, right?”
“Yes,” you answered confidently. “Wait, I mean no, I’m not kidding, but yes, against Haechan.”
Jaemin eyed you skeptically, trying to decipher why you felt threatened enough to report someone like Haechan. You may not have spent all your previous years in high school with an affinity for Haechan, but it wasn’t like you hated him either—not in the way you truly loathed others. If that were the case, you wouldn’t spend nearly every day with him, bickering until the sun chose to set.
“Sure, maybe my B-roll was trash, I can attest to that, but that does not give his bitchass the right to, not only shit on how ‘awful’ I was doing, but also yank the camera out of my hands and delete all the footage I got because they weren’t ‘perfect enough.’ What kind of psycho is that?” You glanced over at Jaemin, trying once again to get him to back you up, but the most he gave was a slight nod. Everything you were spurting was half-mindedly being decoded because he had ended up placing more significance on inhaling protein. Regardless, you continued.
“And you would think, hey! As the student executive producer of a high school broadcasting team, he would understand that no! I indeed do not record half-naked people swimming in a pool, whether it be for a career or a hobby. He should also at least have the decency to not swim seven hundred miles per minute while I’m recording. Of course I’m not going to catch up, especially when he barely told me how he wanted things to be recorded? Isn’t he fucking insane for that? Not to mention all the goddamn splashing because of how fucking long his limbs are—”
“You’re explaining this like I didn’t witness the whole exchange,” Jaemin grumbled.
“And you would think he knows, right? That Mr. Executive-slash-Captain-of-the-Swim-Team should either be more considerate when, A, he’s kicking water in my direction when he’s swimming or, B, station me away from the edge of the pool? Just a thought, but fuck me, I guess.”
“Well yeah, but the—”
“Also! Not to mention the camera has the fucking ability to zoom in, so why was there even a need for me to stand by the pool anyway?” You scoffed at the absurdity, almost tempted to cackle like a villain because of it. “The least he could do was tell me how to record it or find a way to adjust and compromise without occasionally soaking me with water on purpose, which I know damn well he was—”
“That’s just how-”
“We have a tripod, for god’s sake!” you exclaimed. By now, Jaemin had given up on providing you with his input. He opted to rest against the wall, finishing up whatever he had left of the protein bar, and occasionally would roll his eyes.
“But even then, who the fuck wants to see him swim anyway? We’ll probably only need like…what? A minute of the footage for the B-roll? So why the hell is he treating it like it’s about to be nominated by the goddamn Oscars for Best Picture? He just loves to nitpick and control me like a fucking puppet—”
“Keep talking and you’ll potentially strain your throat,” a new voice interrupted.
You jerked around to find Haechan, the culprit of your rant, exiting the locker room with a small duffle bag that contained both his swim gear and his school clothes from earlier in the day. His brown hair was only halfway dry, some strands still stuck to his forehead as he approached where you were pacing.
You halted in your path and stared him down. Haechan immediately caught onto the mood you were in, and instead of being shocked or hurt, he grinned.
“You.” 
Your attempt at threatening him with one word made Haechan laugh.
“Hey, I’m just looking out for you.”
“Oh here we go again,” Jaemin mumbled, tossing the wrapper of the protein bar to the side. He pulled out his phone and went on TikTok, deciding it was more worthy of his attention than listening to you two banter—something he had been experiencing for well over five years.
As a mutual friend of yours and Haechan’s since middle school, Jaemin understood the frenemy dynamic better than either of you. Eventually, over the long years he had known you both, he learned to leave you two be. 
“What about me, though? Are you going to try and tattletale on me?” Haechan feigned sympathy as he gave you an exaggerated pout, tilting his head like a puppy’s. “C’mon. I’m just doing my job.”
“Sorry, but I don’t remember ‘being a dick’ being listed under the requirements for your oh-so-important position of power.” You huffed at him and crossed your arms, choosing to face elsewhere as you rooted the soles of your feet to the ground.
Haechan furrowed his brows, his eyes never leaving you, as he addressed the third party within the shared space.
“Jaemin, was I being a dick, or is Y/N exaggerating?”
Jaemin glanced up at his phone and scrunched his nose at Haechan in annoyance.
“Don’t even try to bring me into whatever…this mess is.”
“No, tell him,” you demanded, now looking at him. Your glare was enough to burn Jaemin into ashes, but it was nothing compared to Haechan’s gaze piercing into your back. Knowing that he never looked away made you shiver, hating how fixated he seemed to be—and seemingly without reason too.
“Listen, I wasn’t being a dick. I was treating you the same way I treat everyone else. I’d honestly argue that you’re just narcissistic and think everything is about you when—”
“Oh wow, thank you for admitting that you’re a dick to everyone else!” You tossed your hands up for dramatic appeal as you spun back around to look at him. He scoffed, but his demeanor was quickly shadowed by a smirk that appeared on his lips, testing you with the arch of his brow.
“Oh really? Do you see anyone else complaining?”
“I’m complaining,” Jaemin muttered.
“People don’t complain because they’re scared of you, Sherlock,” you retorted. At this point, Haechan had already caught onto your bullshit of making evidence up, and it was why this exchange ended up lasting for as long as it did. Nevertheless, his ego continued to build the more you spoke.
“You’re not scared of me?”
And you keep falling for the bait.
“Why should I? You’re nothing.” You approached him and pressed a finger into his chest, taunting him as you stared straight into his eyes.
Suddenly a competition seemed to have materialized because now you both were locking eyes, too stubborn to look away. 
“One day you’ll wake up and realize your position doesn’t mean shit. You take it too seriously and make everyone’s job your job when this should be a learning experience for the rest of us.”
“And who exactly is ‘us,’ babe?”
You narrowed your eyes at him.
“Don’t call me that–”
“And it’s also starting to sound like jealousy to me.” Haechan’s eyes finally shifted, but instead of looking away from you like you initially wanted him to, you trailed his line of sight down to your lips. He eyed them shamelessly—technically making you win the unspoken eye contact competition, but at what cost? “I won’t believe you until I receive firm evidence and testimonies from the other students in the club, then maybe I’ll consider your concerns. Deal?”
What you despised most was how well Haechan knew and provoked you to get under your skin. He was a raging flame, making your blood boil from both irritation and excitement. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but after nearly six years of banter with Haechan, you knew damn well you enjoyed every second of it. It was like a nonstop competition, and you were always on the edge of winning.
Maybe it was also because you were so used to him constantly being above you. He was the president of the student council, the swim team’s captain, and specifically the one who snatched the executive position away from you in the broadcasting team, yet somehow you were still able to compete at his level of arrogance and egotism. 
Even though you may never be able to top him in the foreseeable future, you at least knew how to match his fury—his fire, with your own.
“You’re pathetic.” You took a few steps back to gain some distance while his eyes flickered back up to yours. He bit his lip playfully, his smile only growing even wider.
“Woah, Y/N. Exposing my degradation kink so soon?”
“I-...you- w-what?!” you sputtered, your jaw falling slack as Jaemin’s head snapped up, staring at the two of you in disgust.
“Get a room—!”
“I’m going to make sure you get degraded from your position, you freak!”
“Not exactly how that word works, princess, but I’m glad you’re at least passionate.” His cooing made you want to slap the living shit out of him, your eyes protruding from their sockets are you glared. 
“Are you fucking bricked up or something right now—?”
“Hey guys,” a woman’s voice called out. Your heads turned to look at the end of the hallway, catching one of the recreational center’s workers waving in your general direction. She pressed her lips together and smiled, attempting to be as professional and understanding as possible. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but is it okay if you guys turn it down a notch?”
You and Haechan both nodded and whispered apologies, feeling like kids who just got scolded for shoving paintbrushes down the drain. Fortunately, the worker’s smile radiated genuine warmth and consideration, providing you some sort of reassurance that you guys weren’t too much of a disturbance (even though you guys totally were).
“You two are the most childish fuckers I know,” Jaemin deadpanned, finally shoving his phone away as he switched between looking at you and the man by your side. His eyebrows bunched up.
“And apparently horny too.”
“I would move across the country if it meant I never had to see him again,” you grumbled, striding back to the pile of equipment to pick up your backpack and the bag with all your reporting necessities (boring script, stationary, and a couple of notebooks shared with all the broadcasting students to collect notes and inspiration in). 
“Hello? I’m still here.”
“Look at that. He already misses me.”
“I’m going to hurl,” Jaemin unnecessarily announced, and Haechan’s face soured.
“Ew.”
“Exactly. That’s how you two make me feel whenever you guys are together.” Jaemin got up on his feet and grabbed the wrapper to shove into one of his pockets (no littering, kids) before outstretching his limbs dramatically. 
“I swear I developed back pain from always listening to you guys bicker.”
“Or, hot take,” Haechan interjected, “maybe it’s because you’re always sitting with your back arching forward like it belongs in the Arches National Park–”
“Yeah yeah, shut the fuck up.” Jaemin waved him off with his hand and rolled his eyes. “I came here to help carry stuff, not listen to your bullshit.”
He picked up the bag that contained the camera and passed it to Haechan. He offered to hold one more thing, but with only his backpack and the tripod left, Jaemin didn’t see much need for his friend’s assistance. 
Jaemin then faced you, his face stern and rid of emotion.
“You too, Y/N,” he stated seriously. “None of this ‘he said this,’ ‘he said that,’ ‘please fuck me’ bullshit from you either.”
You gaped at him, arms wrapped tightly around the crew’s bag.
“Now why the hell do you think—”
“Zip it.”
Without giving you much of an opportunity to continue, Jaemin sped off in front of you, ready to leave the building. You couldn’t even look at Haechan as heat rushed to your cheeks, struggling to trail after Jaemin’s speedy steps.
Despite carrying heavier items, Haechan caught up to you with ease. You wanted nothing more than for Haechan’s feet to either slow down or speed up tremendously, but of course he purposely chose to walk by your side, attached to you by the hip.
“He sees it,” Haechan sing-songed. “Everyone sees it.”
“Sees what?” you snorted, oblivious to what he was indicating.
“That you want me,” he replied nonchalantly.
The moment you two stepped outside the doors of the center, you stopped to face him, trying to confirm what exactly he was implying.
“You can’t be serious.”
Haechan, who also stopped with your steps, shrugged.
“You’re the one in denial.”
Realizing that he was serious, you felt every muscle in your body tense up.
“Haechan,” you stated firmly. “I have a boyfriend, remember?”
Instead of receiving something witty from Haechan like normal, his relaxed facial features suddenly scrambled into one that expressed remote shock. His lips were slightly parted, eyes searching yours for any hint that indicated you were lying or messing around with him, but you were serious.
The aggressive playfulness from earlier had evaporated faster than boiling water, and you watched as he became stilled. Your heart started pounding, anxiety creeping up within you due to not being able to read Haechan like you normally do.
“Since when?” he asked. His voice was quiet, his tone firmer, and by now, Jaemin was already by his car, too far from the two of you to understand what was going on. Hell, even you could barely understand what was happening.
“Earth to Haechan?” you joked, nervously laughing in an attempt to eliminate the newfound tension looming in the atmosphere. “It’s always been Yeonjun, remember?”
For a moment, Haechan could feel his mouth drying up. All his thoughts were held captive in his throat, and his lips remained parted as if they weren’t meant to collide at all. He stared at you like you had just teleported in front of him.
“Y/N,” he stated calmly, “he cheated on you.”
Your initial response was to get defensive, claiming that you already knew that because hell, it was your relationship, but then your brain acknowledged the true elephant in the conversation.
“How-...how the hell do you know about that?”
“I- You know word just-…That doesn’t matter. What matters is why in the world—”
“It was a mistake, okay?”
“A mistake?” As Haechan’s brows raised, so did his tone. “You know, people—decent people, don’t make mistakes like that.” 
Seeing how Haechan was gritting his teeth, how his eyes were locked on yours, built up a foreign frustration within you. Something about the way Haechan was behaving felt like he was trying to control you. 
All the rage from before had now returned, yet this time, there was no more leniency from you—not when Haechan was being more condescending than he had ever been.
“You know nothing, Haechan, so frankly, I really don’t care about what you think about my relationship with my boy-”
“You’re still with him??”
“Look,” you snapped. “Just because you have the luxury of crushing my hopes and dreams on a daily basis, it does not give you the right to dictate what’s wrong or right about my love life and my decisions. Understood?”
And just like how you always are, Haechan refused to shut up.
“How is it dictating when it’s common sense to dump a shitty person?” He dropped the bags onto the ground, and not once did he look away from you. “He’s never treated you well either, and you know that—”
“It’s not your decision to make,” you repeated. You could feel the three key elements of creating a fire stir up within you. You had the fuel, the oxygen, and the heat, and Haechan was the chemical chain reaction that would set it off. “How dense can you fucking be to not back down?”
“He cheated on you,” he reasserted, and there was a rage in his eyes that you had never once encountered. “He’s done so many shitty things, and he hasn’t changed–”
“Again, none of your fucking business–”
“And I’m pretty sure I saw—”
“I am not going to repeat myself-”
“Can’t you just listen to what I-”
“Drop it.” You were seconds away from yelling at him, ready to unleash all your anger because never once has someone threatened your love life—Yeonjun, the man you considered your soulmate. Your flame had officially engulfed his, and all Haechan could do was stare at you in disbelief and disappointment.
Turning to look away, you gazed up into the sky and scoffed, not understanding why tears had begun to pool up in your eyes. At the end of the day, Haechan meant nothing to you—you didn’t even consider him a friend.
After moments of experiencing what it was like to be suffocated by a tension so unbearable, you eventually found a way to ground yourself. 
“I can’t blame him, you know,” you whispered, using the back of your hand to wipe away your tears. “We were angry. He just–...he needed an outlet, and at that time, that outlet happened to not be me, okay?”
Haechan stared at you, his mouth desperate to say something, anything, to make you see what he sees—a relationship that isn’t meant to be. That you didn’t deserve to be treated this way. Maybe you were no more than an acquaintance to him, but he knew you have always deserved better. 
“He isn’t someone worth fighting for.”
“And that’s none of your business,” you scowled.
“It isn’t right—”
“Stay in your fucking lane, Hyuck.”
Haechan clamped his mouth shut, and the sight of you completely breaking down tore him apart. Possibly it was all the years you spent together growing up, constantly arguing, yet he knew he was always one to look out for you.
You sucked in a cheek, gnawing at it as your chest urged for you to forgive him, to apologize for lashing out without much notice, but in the end, you prioritized your pride over him.
Not only was Haechan’s persistence a stab to your heart, but you suspected that Jaemin was the one who told him. By spilling your secrets, it was as if Jaemin saw the knife that impaled you and yanked it out of your chest, causing you to bleed to your death.
“I’m done with this conversation,” you muttered, dropping the bag in your arms to the ground by his feet. Your plans had changed to you walking home alone, wanting nothing to do with the other two boys for the next hour or so.
When you turned around to walk away, you knew Haechan was going to try and say something. You knew him best whenever he was at his worst, so you spun around to face him for the last time that day to cut him off.
“Never fucking cross that line with me again, got it?”
And with that, you left. 
//
Jaemin apologized to you the morning after.
He normally drove you to school, and you debated getting into his car when he showed up. Thankfully you chose to do otherwise because the second you stepped inside, Jaemin was apologizing profusely. He talked about how anxious he was all night when Haechan told him what happened, and he wouldn’t have known what to do if you didn’t forgive him. Obviously you did, and the rest of the car ride was spent with him explaining his side of the story.
According to Jaemin, he only told Haechan about how you got cheated on because it seemed like Haechan already knew. As Jaemin recalled the whole scene, you two assessed the signs, such as how Haechan didn’t provide any sort of reaction when Jaemin dropped the news. In fact, it had seemed like Haechan had brought it up to Jaemin instead.
Regardless, it became the last of your worries because all that mattered was that you were back to being on good terms with your best friend.
But avoiding Haechan felt like lighting a match in the rain. 
It was your agonizing reality for the next two months, and although you could argue that you had gotten closer to your boyfriend during the supposed ‘Haechan Drought,’ you were still plagued with him being everywhere around you.
He was in all your classes, and you never truly processed the extent of how involved Haechan had always been throughout high school with you. You weren’t on the swim team, but you were stuck with him during meetings for both the broadcasting team and student council. 
Yet it all felt so different.
Unless he was called on, Haechan would talk much less unprovoked and would never look at you during meetings. When he would address the entire team, he would glance at you for a split second before looking elsewhere, no longer watching you like a hawk.
You had also gotten quieter because without Haechan to banter with, you recognized that you barely had friends in any of those classes either. 
There was no longer a fight between your flames, and you two kept as much distance as possible. You were thankful that there hadn’t been an instance that interrupted that, such as being forced to record more B-roll with him, and you could only hope that the rest of your senior year would remain the same. 
Then you would never have to see him in college.
Now you were back to being the mediocre student that faded into the background. People knew your name at best, but none have ever tried to become your friend aside from Jaemin. No matter how involved you tried to get, the closest you were to anyone was a classmate. 
Haechan had always overshadowed you too, and for the first time in years, you were detached from his fumes—yet somehow, some way, the smoke from his fire would remain in your lungs, continuing to suffocate you even more than it had before. It didn’t give you that breath of fresh air of new friends or a better life; instead, it helped you realize that you didn’t matter. It was a miracle that you even scored Yeonjun as your boyfriend.
But then that begged the question: why did Haechan bother spending his time ridiculing you?
From the very beginning, you had always meant something to him, and you couldn’t pinpoint how or why. When there was no competition in academics, he treated it as if there was. Every time you ranted, he would listen, whether it be about him or something else. Even when you talked about how your chicken from the cafeteria was burnt, he would give you his own before calling you stupid for not noticing until you sat down.
He never shrugged you off like you were nothing or shut you down because your emotions were invalid. He entertained you each time with ease, and most importantly, he knew when to respect your boundaries. Haechan was probably the most mindful person you knew and could often tell when you were distressed or needed another form of reaction from him.
He knew when to stop.
Yet when it came to the one instance involving Yeonjun, he crossed the line multiple times. Why?
“Haechan isn’t here today.”
“Huh?”
“Didn’t show up for a single class.”
Jaemin watched you play with your food with a fork, rolling the cold, barely spherical peas around and into the stale rice.
“That’s not like him,” he replied.
“Yeah.”
“I wonder why.”
“I wonder too.” 
After the driest possible conversation in existence, you sighed and dropped your fork into your tray.
“I need to stop forgetting to pack myself lunch. This shit makes me lose my appetite, I swear. We should call the police and tell them the food they’re serving is illegal and a disgrace to this country.” 
“Keep it away before I lose my appetite too.” 
You didn’t react nor respond to what Jaemin said, letting the conversation rot as you pouted at your food. The cafeteria was unusually louder today, making it easier to space out into thought.
Jaemin took out his sandwich with a wide grin and started eating, grateful he never had to deal with what the school was feeding thanks to his mom, but eventually his eyes shifted over to you. You were unmoving with your gaze locked onto an empty spot on the table, so after moments of debating between asking you what’s wrong and ignoring you to devour his lunch, he opted to set his sandwich aside and stared straight at you.
“Why are you thinking about him?”
That was enough to garner your attention, your head snapping up to stare at your best friend like he was the craziest person you knew for mentioning Haechan, much less suggesting that your mind was wrapped around him.
“What?”
“Haechan. With his perfect attendance, a day without him should be a blessing, yet you brought up how he didn’t show up today and then moped harder than anyone I’ve ever seen mope. You should be over the moon, dancing on the tables and stealing people’s food, not-...” Jaemin waved a finger at you, “whatever this is. You seem out of it.”
“Well it’s not because of Haechan, I’ll tell you that,” you snorted. Your eyes fell back down to your tray, and the more you looked at it, the more nauseous you got. You scrunched your nose. “If anything, it’s probably because of this shit food.”
Jaemin rolled his eyes before tearing his sandwich into halves. You perked at the sight and ogled the half Jaemin taunted you with. You were about to thank him and take it into your possession before Jaemin jerked back his arm, making you whine.
“Throw away your food, then I’ll give you it.”
“Fine,” you grumbled. As Jaemin returned to his delicious, most scrumptious, packed lunch you had ever seen, you picked up your tray and walked it to the nearest trash can. As you dropped the whole thing inside, you heard your name being called.
“Y/N!”
You whipped around to check to see who it was and smiled at the sight of Nagyung waving at you. You wouldn’t consider her a good friend, but you knew her well enough since she was the vice president of the student council.
She ran over to you with a stack of paper in her arms, relieved to have caught you. 
“Y/N, hi! I’m so glad I found you. I was scared I wouldn’t because of how packed it is.”
She flashed you her usual glowing smile, and you noticed that she was a bit more giddy than usual, making you question why she was choosing to talk to you in the first place. All your conversations normally took place before, during, and after student council meetings, so this was slightly out of character.
“What’s up?” you asked. As you looked at her, you noticed how her outfit was slightly more put together than it normally was. She had on a cute top that suited her chest perfectly and a skirt that you had never seen her wear. 
“Your outfit’s really cute today.”
“Really?!” Her bright demeanor then faded into concern. “Wait, is it too noticeable or out of the blue? Is it bad?”
“No, no. Not at all!” you reassured. “It’s just the right amount of perfect.”
“Great! God, that means the world coming from you. It’s because!...” She stopped to glance around, making sure that no one was eavesdropping, before taking a step closer to whisper. “It’s because I was finally asked out on a date by my crush!”
She could barely contain her excitement, holding back a squeal with her bottom lip latched between her teeth. Her sunshine-like energy made you grin.
“That’s great! I’m glad you’re making progress.” Your eyebrows pinched as you tried to recall the last time Nagyung had updated you about her crush. “You’ve been pining after him for so long—whoever ‘him’ is, anyway.”
The question of who Nagyung liked had always gone unanswered. She never told anyone, not even the ones who knew her best, but she loved gushing about her mystery crush to everyone she knew. All people really knew, you included, was how down bad she was.
A part of you wondered if it was someone you knew—someone pretty like Hyunjin or well-known like…Haechan.
“Oh, I wish I could tell you, and maybe I will if things go really well and we become official!” She squealed and hopped in her spot, unable to resist giving you a half-hug with her free arm. “This is so exciting, Y/N!”
“I’m really happy for you.” Your smile was genuine until you thought about why she was looking for you, starting to doubt that she called you over just so she could tell you about her date. 
“I’ll let you know how it goes, swear. But! That aside, I also have something for you.”
You knew it.
Your brows raised, and when you didn’t catch on, she gestured to the papers in her arms with guilt.
“I know this is kind of a dick move, and I’m really really sorry, but I promised to put up fliers for prom today. My date is right after my last class.” Her frown had deepened, and for a split second, you found yourself sympathizing with her because who wanted to let down such a cheerful personality, especially when this was life-changing for her?
“So you want me to do it?”
“Exactly! Please, that would be great. It shouldn’t take too long, too.”
You thought about how you would have to give up an evening of playing on your switch or extra time to study for an upcoming exam, but you knew it was your duty as secretary to help out whenever needed.
Not to mention that it would also make you a decent friend not to hold Nagyung back from her soon-to-be love life despite her poor date planning. If you were in her shoes, you would have wanted her to do the same for you too.
“Sure,” you accepted. “Why not?”
“You’re the best, seriously!” She handed you the fliers as she began to fill you in on the extra details.
“I already told Mr. Barajas that I wasn’t feeling well and that you were going to do it, so he said it all worked out and to not worry about it,” she rambled, happy to give the extra weight (both literally and metaphorically) to you. “I just printed these out, so everything should be perfect to go. Oh, and don’t worry about any extras! Just set them on Barajas’s desk when you’re finished. Haechan will also be in 142 with tape ready for you.”
The mention of the forbidden name nearly made every cell in your body halt. 
“What?”
Nagyung tilted her head at you, confused, before finally realizing.
“Oh crap, I forgot! I’m so sorry, I really did forget you guys weren’t on good terms. I hope it’s okay that he’s helping you out. I mean, he’s supposed to, but it was meant for him and me to do it together, not you two, so…God, I’m really sorry Y/N.”
Before you could even react to the newfound information, she continued.
“I really have to go now. Thank you again! I promise I’ll make it up to you!” And with her rosy pink cheeks and a stunning shade of red on her lips, she basically skipped away and waved goodbye to you with a smile, so you reciprocated it with an awkward one of your own. 
When she turned her back, your smile immediately dropped and you sighed heavily.
“Have fun on your date,” you mumbled, your eyes falling to fliers in your arms. As you skimmed the one on top, you noticed it was to promote going to prom while also including a big QR code to vote for who should be your school’s prom king and queen. You expected it since it was the last meeting’s topic of discussion, but what you weren’t aware of was who were listed as nominees.
There were eight names listed under ‘Prom Court,’ and while you expected Haechan’s, Nagyung’s, and your boyfriend’s names on it, your jaw nearly hit the ground at the sight of your own. 
//
With every passing class period, your anxiety would kick up a notch.
The dread of talking to the face you had been avoiding for two months engulfed you, and it caused you to develop the urge to ditch your current class to go hunt for Jisung, the student council’s historian. You wanted nothing more than to dump the stack of fliers into his arms, and knowing Jisung, he wouldn’t ask any questions. Hell, you were certain that if you asked him nicely, he would do it for you because of how naturally sweet and endearing he was.
But the guilt of ditching your secretary duties kept picking at your skin, and besides, all you had to do was treat Haechan like a colleague. That should be easy, right?
As you suffered through the last few minutes of class and your teacher’s incessant ramblings about the upcoming exam, your thoughts drifted over to what would happen the moment you stepped into room 142.
Haechan hadn’t shown up to a single class all day, yet he was expected to set up fliers after school. As your thoughts snowballed, you arrived at the baseless conclusion that maybe Nagyung wasn’t aware that Haechan was absent today, therefore someone else (like Jisung) would take over. 
Suddenly, your back had straightened with feigned interest in your teacher’s last few words. Something about Jisung being there instead of Haechan had excited you; it felt like you were free and that the universe was listening to your prayers. The gamble of seeing whether it would be Haechan or Jisung (or literally anyone else) had your right leg bouncing, eyes on the clock, and when the bell rang, you shot up from your seat, backpack over your shoulders and fliers in your arms, before dashing out of the classroom.
You sped down the hallway to 142, Mrs. Zhang’s room for Chemistry, bug-eyed, before having your delusions crushed at the sight of Haechan’s stupidly large height leaning against one of the counters. Your feet stood glued to the ground by the doorway, your eyes locked onto him. 
Covered from head to toe in sweats, Haechan was immersed in whatever was on his phone, scrolling through something as his brown waves peeked out from inside his hood. Without any hint of him acknowledging your presence, your shattered hopes slowly began to rebuild.
Maybe if you were quiet enough, you could sneak out with the tape and do everything on your own, avoiding him at all. Actually, scratch that. You didn’t even need the tape. All you had to do was go to another teacher’s room, steal their tape for half an hour, and then return it with ease.
The plan was effortless, and you mentally smacked your forehead for not thinking of it earlier. Right as you were about to execute it, your backpack slammed against the doorframe as you turned on your heels. 
“Nice try.”
You groaned out of embarrassment (and slight pain) and forced yourself to turn around. Haechan’s phone was now face down on the counter, and his arms were crossed over his abdomen. His face remained stoic as his eyes met yours, wielding a tension you didn’t recognize.
Now that you could properly look at him, you noticed a few details that you hadn’t before, such as the small tear on his lower lip and the bandaid on his cheekbone. If you looked long enough, you could catch light patches of purple across his skin, and the sight hindered all your thoughts, your brain too occupied with piecing together how he ended up like this. 
“What happened?” you blurted, your gaze shooting up from his lips to his eyes.
Haechan staggered at your suddenty, but he managed to keep himself stilled, his brows pinching. 
“What do you mean?”
Even if Haechan didn’t mean to, his question became an invitation for your unfiltered thoughts to spill out of your mouth.
“You didn’t show up for any of our classes today,” you began, “but now you’re here? For some stupid fliers? You’re barely dressed properly like you normally are, your hair isn’t straightened, you look pale, Hyuck, and what’s up with the bruises or the bandaid on your cheek–”
“Are you seriously psychoanalyzing me?” he asked with a scoff. There was no humor in his tone. Instead, it looked as if he was irritated, perhaps even more than you were. 
Haechan barely met your eyes, and his arms closed himself off from you. 
“What–?”
“You’re evaluating me like I’m some sort of lab project, Y/N.”
“No, no I’m not,” you rejected. “I’m just saying things are a little off.” You kept your eyes firm on his, even as he pushed himself off the counter with his phone and made his way over to you. “And you know, you really can’t blame me for being somewhat worried when one, you don’t show up, and two, you look like a whole mess—”
“Just hand over the fliers—” he interrupted, gritting his teeth as he outstretched his arm in your direction. You dodged him by turning your body 180 degrees and stood your ground.
“What happened?” you repeated, this time more firmly.
Haechan looked at you, a blank expression on his face, before turning back around to grab the roll of tape left on the teacher’s desk. When he returned, he shoved it into your arms while simultaneously stealing half the stack. You protested with an exclaimed ‘Hey!’ yet he didn’t bat an eye and skimmed over the contents of the flier on top.
Bothered by his lack of response, you frowned and made sure to block the doorway, refusing to let him leave until you received answers.
“Why are you acting like this? Pretending that I’m not even—”
“I’ll do upstairs, you do downstairs,” he muttered.
“Did you get into a fight? Why weren’t you here today? Why are you here now—”
“You’d think you’d know,” he finally answered, pushing past you like you weighed none less than a feather.
Your brain had fully malfunctioned at that point, unable to decipher what he meant as Haechan walked off to the nearest staircase. As his footsteps echoed down the hall, you thought about what he was implying yet came to no resolution. Did he assume that you were caught up in your school’s latest gossip? Or that you were the main admin for his biggest fan page on Instagram?
The idea made you snort, and you scowled bitterly at his childish attitude. It wasn’t like you were a complete stranger intruding on his personal life—hell, you felt like you deserved an explanation because of how you were forced to do this with him. 
As you stormed off past the remaining lingering students to the nearest bulletin board, you questioned how you were going to do this on your own. 
You had put up fliers countless times in the past few years yet never alone. Luckily, you had a general idea of where the fliers should go when it came to the school’s hallways, but as you approached your first destination, you struggled with ripping off pieces of tape while holding the stack at the same time. It would’ve been easier with a partner by your side, one who either did the tape ripping or placing of the fliers, but you weren’t desperate enough to fall into the role of a helpless princess in need of her pretty (useless) prince. 
After some trial and error, you found a method that consisted of setting the stack on the ground occasionally so you could rip off pieces of tape. Then you would slap said pieces of tape onto your wrist, having them readily available as you put up a few fliers at a time.
Although slightly time-consuming, it was working well and kept you at a steady pace until you heard crashing footsteps behind you from afar. Without paying any mind to it, you bit back your curiosity in order to focus on the wall in front of you, but then you made the mistake of taking a step back, bumping into the person who was sprinting. 
You lost your balance and fell forward before catching yourself shortly after. However, the fliers had already flown out of your arms, scattering across and down the long hallway.
Ready to curse out the offender for running down the hallway, you were surprised when you saw that it was Nagyung behind you, pouring out apologies while a loopy grin was smacked onto her face.
You steadied your anger and told her it was okay, getting down onto your knees to collect all the fliers. Her ‘sorry’s could only go so far with her smeared lipstick, a dazed gaze, and her hair holding the mold to someone else’s (presumably her crush’s) hands in them, but you still excused her, knowing that she was over the moon right now.
“It’s okay, Nagyung, I promise.” You forced out a chuckle as you crawled to scavenge for the ones that flew a few feet away.
“I really didn’t mean to,” she pouted, but it was shortly followed up with bubbly giggles. “God, Y/N, can you believe this? Oh, it’s going so well! I think I love him, I do.”
“Good for you,” you grumbled, hoping that she didn’t hear it as you continued to move down the hallway, hating how far the fliers had escaped from you. You also hated how she just stood there without intent on helping you at all. 
“I have to really go now. Got volleyball practice soon, but I think I’m seeing him tomorrow too!” She waved you goodbye.
And just like that, she continued running off. 
You stared at how you were only able to collect half the mess, hating how Nagyung had somehow managed to delay you even further from being in the comfort of your bed. You were also salty at how her date was taking place at the school, wishing she could’ve dragged him around while she taped stuff up before getting dick-downed of some sort.
Deciding that she and her business weren’t worth your time, you continued to pick everything up as quickly as you could, wanting nothing more than to go home.
When you finally finished collecting every last flier, you were prepared to get back into the groove of things before feeling your phone vibrate in the side pocket of your backpack. Wondering if it was something important, you took it out and beamed at the idea of it being a new message from Yeonjun.
Dating him felt like falling in love with him all over again whenever he texted. Your heart would pound in your chest when you thought about him and explode whenever he gave you his attention and time. You were addicted to him, especially knowing that he was yours after liking him since middle school.
So to say you were disappointed was far worse than an understatement. It was from a number you hadn’t saved yet always recognized and undoubtedly remembered by heart.
Of course it was Haechan.
You had Haechan’s phone number due to previous class projects and group chats, but you had never once saved it because you thought he was undeserving of being a contact in your phone. Nonetheless, with how the years have passed and how much his number infiltrates every group chat you were in, it was only fair that your brain had unintentionally memorized all ten digits.
The message he sent consisted of him saying that he was done with the fliers, and you rolled your eyes. Even after the way he treated you earlier, he still chose to let you know and brag about how fast he was. 
You shoved your phone away vigorously, ready to return to your slapping-fliers-on-walls duty, before perking at the sound of footsteps behind you once more.
Automatically assuming it was Nagyung or another student staying after for a club or sport, you were stunned when you heard his voice. 
“You’re not even halfway yet?”
In no fucking universe are you turning around; not for him.
“Go gloat somewhere else,” you snapped. The next flier you taped up was nearly slammed onto the wall, but Haechan was left unphased by your sudden outburst. He stood next to you and remained quiet, even when you left to place the next flier a few feet away on the opposite wall.
When he didn’t follow, you sighed out of relief, yet somehow you couldn’t help but peek at him, eyeing his hands that were tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants. He was staring straight at the lopsided flier you had put up, and when you decided you had enough of peering at him, he was back by your side.
 “What are you doing?” you grumbled. He was the one who pushed you away, yet now here he was, glued to your side like how he was two months ago. 
“You’re taking too long.”
“I had a mishap,” you explained, “but that’s none of your concern.” The lines on your forehead bunched up, and you waved him off, bending down to place the stack on the ground. Figuring it wasn’t weird at all, you continued your method of ripping off pieces of tape and slapping it onto your wrist.
And Haechan was totally judging.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Just go home.”
Despite being on the ground and sitting on your heels, you could physically feel the heat on the back of your head due to his eyes burning a hole into your skull, and for a split second, you knew exactly what he was thinking.
“I can do it myself,” you explained. 
“What are you even doing?” 
“Can you just go?” You picked up the stack once again as you rose to your feet, doing your best to avoid whatever look was on Haechan’s face. He was probably stifling a laugh or keeping his expression smug, but when you did cave and peek, his face was still solemn, his eyes on your wrist with concern.
“You’re struggling.”
“Thank you for your observation, Mr. Obvious,” you retorted.
“Let me do it.”
Taken aback, you whipped your head over to his direction.
“You’re kidding.”
“You don’t even want to be here,” he reasoned through gritted teeth. “Just go, and you can thank me later.”
“Thank you?!” Appalled at his audacity, you couldn’t help but laugh out of disbelief. “Seriously, Haechan? You want me to thank you for stealing my job? Again? You can’t be fucking serious.”
“Because you can’t take any criticism ever, or in this case, any form of help, so just let me do it.”
Haechan was eerily calm about the whole ordeal, his energy far from matching yours.
“I do take help,” you refuted. “I just don’t take yours, and neither do I need it, too.”
“You’re so goddamn stubborn.” And within a blink of an eye, he had managed to snatch the stack of fliers from you. 
“Hey!” you yelled, feeling as if it was deja vu from earlier (you really needed to step up your defense), and reached out to take them back, but he was quick to turn his body, shielding them from you.
“Give me the tape and go,” he urged, emotionless. The Haechan in front of you now was someone you truly didn’t recognize because the Haechan you knew would have made fun of you and held the fliers above your head, teasing you for being so weak.
Yet he stood still, creating a barrier between you and the duty that was forced upon you. You didn’t want to be here anyway, yet you were so insistent on making sure Haechan wasn’t stealing your work again. You weren’t incapable, and you hated how he always managed to be faster.
Even now, he was miles away from being playful with you, and yet he still had a way to shove it in your face.
“Haechan, I swear—”
“Give me the tape, and you can run off to your little boyfriend waiting for you by the entrance.” 
Your lips parted at his words, eyes wide as you worked to comprehend his words. You questioned how he knew about Yeonjun’s whereabouts, how he knew that Yeonjun was waiting and that you didn’t, but knowing that he was serious, you reluctantly gave up and dropped the roll of tape on the ground, forcing him to pick it up. 
You were sick of constantly arguing with him, and even if he was lying about Yeonjun, at least you would be away from Haechan. There was no point in fighting for your dignity anymore, not when Haechan’s narcissism was insufferable.
By walking away with heavy and quick strides, you hoped he felt humiliated by how poorly he was treating you—how he had always treated you like this.
As much as you wanted it to be true, you hoped Haechan was lying just so you had more evidence against his self-absorbed and shitty personality, but alas, you found Yeonjun standing precisely where Haechan said he was.
Regardless, all stress and frustrations had lifted from your being, and you called out to your boyfriend with a smile that would make your cheeks ache in minutes. 
“Junnie!” You waved your hands with a small bounce in your steps as you rushed over to him.
Your boyfriend’s head shot up, surprised to see you. His utter shock quickly switches to one of sheer happiness, tucking his device away before opening his arms for you.
“Hey, baby!”
You tossed yourself into his embrace, hugging him tight after pressing a quick kiss to his lips.
“What are you doing here?” With your face in his neck, your voice came out muffled, and it made Yeonjun laugh.
“Had to stay after to discuss my grades with a teacher, then I decided to stay back a bit for you.” He cooed and kissed the top of your head, holding you incredibly close. When you pulled back, his hands had moved from behind your backpack to your hips instead, holding them as you stared up at him.
“You were waiting for me?” you asked, eyes wide with stars in them.
“Of course I was, baby.” 
You were radiating, feeling happier than ever. The last time you saw Yeonjun was a week ago, and with your clashing schedules, you two very rarely get the opportunity to make plans. Your hands rested atop his shoulders, and when he pulled you in for a kiss, you smiled.
But then it fell.
Something felt off.
//
If someone were to inquire Haechan about who his heart belonged to, your name would be his answer—whether he intended to say it or not. 
Haechan had always been considered the school’s favorite. His intelligence may not be up to par with others, but his authority was what made him a prominent member of your high school. Some blame it on his looks, but most were aware enough to know that wasn’t the case.
Haechan knew how to think on his feet, and his problem-solving skills outwitted everyone within his grade level. Reaching tranquillity had never been an issue for him, allowing him to be levelheaded while making decisions. He emitted an aura that made classmates truly listen to him and the ideas he shared, and overall, it made him a great contender to lead every group and organization he was in. 
Additionally, Haechan’s heart was what won over most people. His lack of vulnerability seemed to be his only flaw, but it was an obstacle he could overlook when it came to empathizing with others. By actively being involved in the community through volunteering and holding fundraisers, everyone could recognize Haechan’s devotion to hope for humanity. 
All these traits were what led Haechan up onto the pedestal and the public eye, a household name for all families in the district. Titles and awards naturally gravitated towards him throughout the years, resulting in him winning the vote as president of your school’s student council and enough scholarships to provide him a full ride at most universities.
It was safe to say that competition against Lee Haechan was sparse, and you were no different. 
Your grades would teeter around his standard, hence how you two collectively ended up in the same classes, but aside from that, you had nothing else that could compare to what he was capable of.
Except for one thing; your fury.
There was an inferno inside you at all times, and instead of your body shielding off your heart with steel, people around you would come to find out that your heart was the reason for that large blaze of fire, possessing a passion unlike any other. 
Haechan had never once seen a peer with as much fight as you. It was a trait only you encapsulated, one that you weren’t afraid to express. You stood up for yourself and your beliefs, and it was easy to pick fights with him when he had been troubling you from the very moment you two were assigned to sit next to each other in seventh-grade algebra. 
Haechan yearned for you ever since, his only want being your attention. You gave him the drive to succeed in high school and thrive in his senior year, and he was positive that he wouldn’t be doing this well without a reason to show off in front of you. He wanted your praise, your acknowledgment, but he loved the chase the most. 
Unfortunately, that was the exact reason he ended up here.
The chase was what made him fall for every part of you, wanting nothing more than your lips on his and the ability to have you by his side at all times, but it was also what landed you with your current boyfriend.
It was like his life was a video game with God giving him the hardest difficulty setting by making sure you were obsessed with someone undeserving of all that he wanted. There wasn’t even a chance of you two possibly being friends in your eyes. Meanwhile, Haechan would argue that you two had more chemistry than any other couple in your class, but that hope was crushed, shredded, and stomped on when he found out you still devoted your love to Yeonjun.
Regardless, it didn’t change who you were as a person. Your heart was still just as large and beautiful, and your drive to succeed hadn’t lessened. The bickering never faltered, and it wasn’t like Haechan was opposed whenever you expressed disgust at the thought of him being turned on because of you (and that was because he found the idea of you thinking about him hot—yes, his expectations were that low). 
So it was why after two months of almost zero to no contact, you treating him as if those months didn’t exist created the largest dilemma he had ever faced. He spent the next week thinking about your intentions and why you seemed to care so much, specifically right after when Haechan had willed himself to believe that he meant jackshit to you. You effortlessly toyed with his heart, leaving him in everlasting misery, while you seemed to do completely fine.
What was a typical and ideal lifestyle for you was a nightmare and tormenting hellhole for Haechan. He didn’t just crave the warmth and comfort from your undying flames.
He wanted to burn.
Insanity engulfed him on the days spent without you, leaving him to wonder why you had to make things extensively worse by pointing out his absence or how he had put less effort into his hair. Why did it seem like the concern you expressed was genuine? Why pretend that you cared for him as much as he cared for you?
He was going insane—so insane that he drove to a college party with three other friends in his sedan on a Wednesday night. 
It was being held by a fraternity he and his friends were far more than familiar with thanks to Jaehyun, an upperclassman he met in his sophomore year and remained friends with since then. The beginning of the senior year marked the origin of parties and hook-ups in weak sporadic attempts to get over you. 
At this rate, Haechan could argue that he was more experienced than half of the current college freshmen class. Getting girls in bed was the easiest part; the hardest part was forgetting about you. From what was a method created to move on from you became one that prepared him for when you wanted sex with him. 
But with your constant longing for Yeonjun, Haechan made sure that this party would be different.
Although accustomed to having sex with various women, Haechan had never been one to drink. This was a fact about him that raised eyebrows, specifically Jaehyun’s when he first tried urging Haechan with a drink, but tonight he vowed to change that. He was normally their designated driver, but when Haechan informed Mark of his plan, the elder was more than delighted to remain sober so Haechan could get a taste of alcohol.
“Hey, man! It’s about time!” Jaehyun exclaimed the instant he found out about Haechan’s willingness to drink, pulling a fresh bottle out of the cooler specifically for his friend.
“That’s what I told him!” Mark projected his voice over the music, giving Haechan a supportive pat on the back.
Haechan rolled his eyes at his friends’ remarks and thanked Jaehyun for the beer, hanging around by the counter as the three conversed and caught up. The two laughed at the way Haechan’s face scrunched up at the taste, Mark shoving him lightly with the claim that Haechan was being overdramatic. 
With his earlier mindless decision of tossing on a mesh long-sleeve shirt over his black tank top, Haechan had attracted another partygoer by his side momentarily after his first sip. She wrapped her arms around one of his and inserted herself into the conversation with hopes of getting Haechan in bed by the end of the night, and crazily enough, he considered it for a moment before feeling his phone vibrate in his back pocket.
Normally it would be something he’d ignore, but it remained persistent, signifying that he was receiving a call. He didn’t know who would be calling at this hour—well, aside from Sunwoo and his usual complaints about Haechan partying as a high schooler on a school night. 
After setting the glass down on the counter to grab his phone, any urgency to intoxicate himself as quickly as possible vanished the very second he saw your name glowing on his screen. With an awkward retraction of his arm and a forced cough, Haechan excused himself and answered the call.
“Hello?”
With music pounding inside his ear canals, it was expected that he couldn’t hear anything you were saying. He navigated through various crowds to reach the entrance of the house, his heart replicating the booming vibrations from the loudspeakers as he prayed that you wouldn’t hang up on him.
“Okay, I…I should be free now,” he stammered after stepping outside. The sudden stillness of Mother Nature was a drastic change from the party scene, coercing him to focus on his racing heartbeat and the anxiety accumulating in his tightening chest. He was breathing heavily, both from pushing through people in a rush and also because of you. 
You never failed to render him weak and helpless, leaving him like a puppy longing for their owner’s guidance.
There was a silence, but he could hear your gentle breaths hitting your phone.
“I need a ride.”
Haechan blinked, his body tensing up, as the many thoughts in his brain scrambled to make meaning of what you meant. However, it didn’t matter because you hung up shortly after, leaving him alone to revel in your words.
Your bluntness and suddenty made Haechan malfunction, his thoughts leading him to question if he had even heard you correctly. Rarely did you ever reach out to him, and what could you need him for? Especially after lashing out at him and ignoring him for two months? Of course, there was that one day a week ago when you two were forced to talk together, the day he was given a one-day suspension, but you two returned to treating each other like strangers like it was natural.
He stared at his phone in hopes of receiving more information, that you’d perhaps call again to reconfirm or say you had the wrong number. He felt like he was dreaming—that the person he had wanted for so long needed him for once, but he couldn’t help but also believe that this may be the beginning of another nightmare. 
But it was you, and Haechan was willing to risk it.
After checking his call logs to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, he rushed back into the fraternity house, thankful he didn’t proceed with drinking any more than he did. 
He found everyone exactly where he had left them (the girl included) and announced his departure. The girl made sure Haechan knew how disappointed she was, but that was his last concern as he grabbed the beer bottle and handed it to Mark, giving him a pat on the back.
“Drink up and find an Uber.”
“No fucking way you’re leaving us this soon, man.” Jaehyun shook his head in disapproval, his forearms resting against the countertop.
“Another time, I promise, yeah?” Haechan started walking away, waving to them as his heart continued to thrum in his chest.
“He’s lying,” Mark snorted, taking a swig before bidding Haechan a bitter goodbye. “You owe me!"
Haechan ran out of the house, his legs making quick and long strides as he ran to his parked car down the block. His newfound adrenaline made him think about what he was sacrificing to be with you. Was leaving the party and betraying his friends worth spending even a second with you? What if you were asking him to drive you and your boyfriend somewhere? Could his heart even deal with being used like that?
But as much as Haechan hated it, he knew he was making the right choice. The self-respect he had for himself was buried six feet deep beneath the surface of the earth when it came to you. 
God, he really hoped he wasn’t hallucinating.
For a split second, Haechan truly debated what he was doing after getting into his car. He was already driving, but he didn’t know where to go. Luckily, it didn’t take you long to send him a text with your location, and it was a place he was familiar with. 
It was a park that he often frequented as a kid since it resided by his old neighborhood, and he was thankful he knew exactly where to go because he knew he would’ve definitely crashed the car while pulling up your location on his GPS. Haechan was doubtful it was the alcohol in his system making his fingers shake and his mind uneasy. He blamed you for his hysteria, one that had developed over years of endless longing. 
Luckily the drive wasn’t long thanks to the roads being mainly void of other vehicles (and maybe he did speed a few times, but he considered it justified). Before pulling into the parking lot, he spotted a lone figure curled up on a nearby bench. A small weight had been lifted off of him, relieved it was just you, and he parked aimlessly while his eyes rested on you.
You seemed unphased by his added presence, your arms unmoving as they stayed wrapped around your legs. The bench you were sitting in was facing away from the parking lot, but with his headlights illuminating the view in front of you, you certainly had to know he was there. 
In an ideal world, Haechan would leave his car, join you by your side, and, if he was lucky, he’d pull you into his arms and hold you close against his chest. He wanted to be there for you in whatever way he could, but he ended up being a deer in headlights, too afraid to make the wrong move and lose you again.
He sat there for a minute, watching you, and as soon as he received the confidence to reach for the handle of his door, you were up on your feet. His fingers paused midair as he traced your movements, his arm eventually falling to his side as you approach his car. 
Despite how slow his mind was working, Haechan knew to unlock the car right as you opened it (he would’ve died out of embarrassment if he had forgotten), and neither of you greeted the other.
Without any explanation from you, Haechan refrained from staring at you like he normally would, but your outfit made it incredibly difficult. It wasn’t much, just an oversized long-sleeved shirt that reached your thighs, but it was far from the usual clothes he’d seen you wear, like jeans and a nice-fitting blouse. For a moment, he believed you had no pants on, but then he knocked some sense into himself, realizing that you were probably wearing shorts that were hidden.
While Haechan attempted to keep his composure and respect your boundaries, you were eyeing him shamelessly, once again analyzing every detail about him. Beads of sweat pooled up on the back of his neck, and his hair was straightened yet fuzzy. As your eyes trailed downwards, you noticed how the mesh hugged his biceps, catching every crease that defined his muscles. He was quiet, his index finger resting against his lips. 
Where did he even come from?
And why was he so quick to listen?
You held back your tongue from dumping out your thoughts, knowing your questions would end up unanswered like before. Your body instinctively rested against the divot between the car door and your seat, keeping your distance from Haechan. He was meant to be a stranger, perhaps someone you loathed, yet there was an odd comfort that encased you from him just sharing the same air as you.
You cleared your throat, turning your head to look away when he flinched and snapped his gaze towards you.
“Drive.”
Your demand was no louder than a whisper, but Haechan picked it up effortlessly and was already backing out.
“Where to?”
“Anywhere.” Haechan raised a brow at your answer, and you buried yourself further into his seat, directing your gaze out the door. “Just-...anywhere, Hyuck.”
The nickname had his throat tightening and his chest leaping, nodding in your direction as he drove on autopilot. With no destination in mind, he strolled through familiar roads, his fingers tapping against the wheel. 
You stayed silent, creating a tension that was unbearably thick, yet none of you felt the need to leave; neither of you wanted to leave the other, even if it meant having to deal with the looming elephant in the room (or in this case, Haechan’s car).
After spotting the recreational center from afar and its empty parking lot, he instinctively pulled in. There wasn’t a proper explanation for why he decided it’d make a great destination, especially when it was the place that created a rift in your relationship with him, but it felt right.
It was empty, open, and serene—a perfect place to stay as the moon shined.
Haechan stepped out of the car after parking in the middle of it, and when you didn’t follow, he moved to your side and opened the door. He was hesitant but took the risk of offering his hand to you, a warm, nervous smile on his face. He wanted you to know he was there to listen, to be there for you, because, Lord, he would hand you the world if he could.
“I’m not in the mood for walking,” you mumbled, but Haechan shook his head.
“We’re not going to walk, I promise.”
Your eyes flickered up to his briefly, skeptical of what he had planned, but ultimately caved. You ignored his hand, and he pulled it back with regret. When you stood there, your eyes on the sky, he closed the door behind you and guided you to the hood of his car.
Without a second thought, he sat on top of it and gestured for you to do the same.
“I sit here all the time. Helps me think.” He leaned back against his windshield, his hands holding the back of his head as he kept his eyes on the sky. When you didn’t move, he started to feel stupid, wondering if you two were better off in the car, but then you joined him. 
You copied his position, staring upwards as your hands rested over your abdomen. 
Haechan opted to keep to himself, deciding that he didn’t want to make this worse for the two of you. Instead, he fixated his thoughts on the stars in the sky.
There were only a few, but it was a rare sight due to the constant air pollution in your city, so he considered it a miracle. You, on the other hand, were spacing out in thought, and Haechan could tell through his occasional peeks. Without much control, his eyes started tracing down your arms. They then landed on where the hem of your shirt rested, now looking at your bare thighs.
Feeling as if he just reverted back to being the shyest virgin in the country, he gulped and immediately looked elsewhere, trying to get you off his mind despite you being right next to him. His racing heart was all that he could hear, and now he wondered if you could hear it too—if you knew how much you affected him.
And your voice broke the silence.
“How long have you known?”
Okay, maybe his brain did fall out of his skull because Haechan had no idea what you were talking about. He turned his head and caught how you stared up at the sky. Your eyes were glossy, holding the reflections of the whole galaxy within them. They sparkled, and for a beat, Haechan had forgotten your question, too infatuated with your beauty. 
His silence resulted in you turning your head, gaze meeting his, and that was when he noticed the tears.
“About Yeonjun and Nagyung.”
Your light, your flames, his burning desire; all were gone in a flash.
Your voice was delicate, and Haechan knew that with one move, he could break you.
Directing his gaze heavenward, Haechan sighed and brought his arms down to rest over his chest. Somehow he was able to feel all the pain you were experiencing, his heart twisting while his stomach churned and sloshed around in his body. He thought about how to respond as he chewed on the inside of his lip, questioning if he should answer at all to avoid hurting you.
But you asked, and as always, Haechan delivered.
“I don’t think I ever really knew until last week,” he explained, “but I could always tell.” Suddenly, the fight from a week ago had resurrected, and Haechan was forced to relive it all.
The hallways were empty when Haechan left the broadcasting room, a backpack strap slung over his shoulder while the other dangled behind him. He was in the middle of scrolling through his emails when he picked up on the sound of Yeonjun’s voice around the corner. 
His footsteps halted, and Haechan caught Yeonjun’s fatal words.
“How does tomorrow sound?”
Nagyung’s squeals followed after, and Haechan stood motionless.
At first, Haechan had no thoughts circulating in his brain, but after hearing their lips collide, he started coming up with solutions, such as interrupting or taking a video to send to you. Unfortunately, before he could act on either of them, he heard footsteps dashing off, practically skipping, as the two bidded one another goodbye. 
Haechan couldn’t pinpoint the reasoning behind his upcoming actions, but he knew how to describe how he felt. 
Anger was the first and only emotion to surge up within him, his fingers instinctively balling up into fists. His muscles had tightened while a forest fire ran rampant through his veins, causing his blood to boil. 
Then with quick strides, Haechan shoved his phone away and made a sharp turn around the corner, tossing his backpack on the ground after spotting Yeonjun against the lockers. The latter had a dazed look on his face, his lips curled into a smirk as he typed away on his phone, but that was changed once he looked up at the sound of Haechan’s backpack crashing against the ground in front of him.
There wasn’t a second in between Yeonjun’s face of surprise and Haechan’s arm being raised, and before Yeonjun could react, Haechan’s fist had slammed into his jaw. 
It was a blur from there, but Haechan knew he had won even after authorities dragged him off Yeonjun’s body. He had received a few jabs in return, but it was nothing compared to the black eye Haechan gave him.
The fact that Yeonjun managed to cover it up with makeup the day after was a miracle, and no one in the school knew about the fight since it happened after school. Haechan wanted it to stay that way, but a selfish, cruel part of him wished that everyone knew how sick your boyfriend was.
Well, now he was unsure if he was still your boyfriend. 
Haechan turned his head back towards you, his cheek meeting the cold metal of his car.
You pursed your lips at his response and nodded slowly. If it were any other day, you wouldn’t have believed him. There was no universe where you’d choose to listen to Haechan over Yeonjun, but after a week of investigating and getting your head out of your ass, you found out on your own terms, and all the pieces made sense.
“I didn’t mean to.”
Haechan’s voice jerked you out of your thoughts, and as you adjusted to look back at him, you were surprised to still find him staring at you.
“I’m not a violent person, Y/N,” he whispered, an enduring hope lingering in his eyes. He wanted you to believe him, and for once, you did; you truly understood the man you hated most.
“I know, Hyuck.”
Haechan eased at your words, and the two of you fell back into a more comfortable yet aching silence. His fingers drummed against his abdomen, and after a while, he got sick of looking at the same four stars, so he closed his eyes, focusing on enjoying the light breeze instead. His heart was still racing, but it was less alarming. Regardless, he hated knowing that he potentially contributed to how much you were hurting right now.
Maybe if he had done something to prevent it earlier, whether it be telling you as soon as he found out or keeping completely out of your business so you could live in bliss, or, if he wasn’t so scared, he could’ve asked you to be his far before Yeonjun had. Maybe it wouldn’t have changed much, but Haechan would never know since he never tried, and now he was going to beat himself over it because now you’re devastated over losing your boyfriend and it was potentially his faul—
You laughed.
Haechan snapped his head towards you, his brows raised at your sudden change in mood—but it wasn’t the type of laugh he expected. Your laugh was one filled with pain, and he watched you shake your head, trying to refuse the tears that were rapidly welling up in your eyes once more. You sniffed and wiped the tears away with the back of your hand, choosing to look in the opposite direction because the last thing you wanted was for Haechan to see you vulnerable.
“It’s stupid,” you murmured. “This entire thing is stupid. I’m so fucking dumb.”
His lips parted to interject, to tell you that you were, in fact, ‘not dumb,’ but he clamped his mouth shut, knowing that his words probably wouldn’t help. From what he’d learned in the past, you liked it least when he tried telling you otherwise, no matter the situation. 
“I should’ve known. I did know. The whole world knew. Even you knew, but it makes me think, was Nagyung just flocking around, flaunting to everyone that she had a crush on my boyfriend and managed to win him over? I just—I…I don’t know-...” You paused to catch your breath, beginning to choke on your tears as your chest shook, “I don’t know what I did wrong, you know?”
You shut your eyes, allowing the pain to engulf you. You knew fully well that your punishment was to deal with the pain, but you felt like you didn’t deserve it—that you deserved none of this. Why was this a penalty for being in love?
It was humiliating having everyone witness the reality you shielded from yourself, choosing hope and love over the truth. 
“I just never felt more stupid in my life, and I feel even more stupid knowing that I still love him.”
Haechan sucked in his lips, gnawing on them as he bit back all his feelings, from his brain shredding to his heart weeping.
“I love him so much that I would let him do it to me all over again because I keep thinking he’d be better. I know he can be better, so why-...It’s just- Why do I do this to myself?”
Tears cascaded down your cheeks, each one leaving behind a trail for others to fall. They started pouring out of you rapidly, soon sobbing at the heart-wrenching pain of being betrayed by everyone in your life, Haechan included, because why, out of everyone, was he here for you when he should be the last person who cared?
You always wanted Haechan to be the antagonist of your life story, to have him as your biggest enemy and threat, so why was everyone else but him hurting you? Why was the villain of your fantasy taking the role of your knight in shining armor?
And yet, as much as it pained Haechan to process all your emotions, his mind wasn’t running correctly; he had you alone for the first time in months. He wanted nothing more than to pull you in his arms and whisper words of comfort in your ears, knowing you deserved it more than anyone, but he also wanted to shake you awake and slap you out of your misery, praying that you’d forget about Yeonjun; that right now, you being vulnerable was his chance to swoop in, to set whatever you wanted him to into flames, as long as if it meant you’d end up okay. 
You sat up because if you lied down any longer, you would’ve started drowning in your own tears. Your sleeves were soaked, and he sat up alongside you, figuring that he should do something about it.
Haechan got back onto his feet and stood in front of you. He barely knew what he was doing, but that didn’t stop him from replacing your sleeves with his cold, clammy hands over your cheeks. There wasn’t a time that Haechan could recall where he had been this gentle with someone, and when you didn’t push him away, he tilted your head up to look at him.
Even with tears running down your cheeks, you looked angelic as ever. 
Each droplet mirrored a star from the sky, and your eyes sparkled as they stayed locked on his.
“Take me,” you whispered, and Haechan’s whole world stopped. 
“...What?” Haechan had only intended to wipe your tears away with the pads of his hands, perhaps whisper something along the lines of him being here for you for the night (and the rest of his life, let’s be honest), yet your first words were—no, he had to have been hallucinating.
Your hands trembled as they reached for his wrist, and although you were severely broken, the grip your fingers created was firm.
“Please.”
Like a moth to a flame, Haechan admired how pretty you looked, your lips plump and eyes wide, and he wanted nothing more than to take you into his backseat and treat you the way he’d always wanted to, especially after hearing your pleas, but he knew better. You both knew better. 
“What exactly are you implying?” he asked, feeling like you had just inhaled all his oxygen and left him breathless. 
You released his wrist and opted to hold onto his sleeve, tugging on it as you tried to get him to understand you.
“I want it to hurt, Donghyuck.”
Your tears were gone, and there was a hint of dominance in your tone that would’ve had him dropped to his knees in front of you. You were also one of the very few who resorted to calling him Hyuck, and now his actual name. He favored Haechan, but after hearing ‘Donghyuck’ from your lips, his preference had completely made a turnaround. 
But Haechan worked to collect his thoughts, fully aware that this was wrong and he’d have to be the bigger person here. As much as he hated himself for giving up the perfect opportunity to have the girl of his dreams, he couldn’t ignore the large concern over your current mental state.
“You’re not thinking straight, Y/N,” he reasoned softly, his fingers reaching up to brush your hair out of your face, and for a second, Haechan swore he felt the alcohol kicking in—or perhaps it was you instead. The thought of being able to have you right now, to touch you and press his hands over your skin, to have you as his for just this night, was so intoxicating that he was seconds away from foaming at the mouth.
“I don’t need to think straight. I don’t want to think at all.”
Everything felt hotter and tighter, but he kept his composure, though with his eyes dropping to your begging lips and then your delicate fingers, he knew he was beginning to lose whatever was left of his sanity. 
But he also knew you were using him; you had to be. There was no other explanation. It was only minutes ago when you professed how you continued to feel about Yeonjun—that your heart still belonged to him, and Haechan was allowed nowhere near it. He was your backup, your second option, yet that happened to be better than nothing, right?
Especially when he could have you right here, right now. 
“You’re using me.”
Your expression didn’t falter.
“Then say no. Make us go back into your car and drive me home.” Your hand dropped from holding onto his sleeve but that was so you could wrap your arms around his neck, slowly bringing yourself closer to him. His cheeks were flushed as his mind flooded with possibilities of what could happen. Never had you ever wanted him, and he’d been dreaming of a moment like this for years. Your tear-stained cheeks, your pouty red lips—he wanted all of you.
“But you won’t,” you whispered, your breath hitting his skin. Your eyes landed on his lips, now craving him as much as he craved you. You needed a release, an outlet, to justify Yeonjun being better than Haechan. Haechan was worse in every way possible, and you wanted him to prove that to you. “You’d do anything I’d say, wouldn’t you?”
“What makes you say that?” Little did you know Haechan was crumbling inside, completely melting as his fingers grew weak at the idea of your lips on his. His hands, although wary, traveled to your waist, feeling your curves before trailing his hands down to your hips to grip them.
“You love me, don’t you?”
His heart stuttered, all words caught up in his throat, but he knew there was no defending himself—not when he was practically drooling at every move you made; he was hyperaware of the hand playing with the hair on his nape, the way your lips nearly hovered over his, and how your tears glistened under the moonlight.
His entire existence was confirmation of your words, and you knew it.
“You’d do anything for me, Hyuck. What’s stopping you now?”
There was a stillness as you two stared at one another. He swallowed and pulled slightly back.
He knew better.
“You don’t want me.” He was brokenhearted, a part of him understanding that you’d never be his, yet he wanted you in so many ways, wishing to have your mewls fill his ears and the smell of sex staining his clothes. The bulge in his pants was forming and pressing up against the tight confinement, making him groan. 
He dropped his head downwards, his forehead leaning to rest against yours, as he closed his eyes and did his best to regulate his breathing—repeating in his head and out loud, again.
He knew better.
“You’re using me.”
You both knew better.
Yet with your lips ghosting his and your eyes half-hooded, you were prepared to give into the dark side.
“And I say take advantage of it.”
Haechan dived and pressed his lips onto yours, hunger driving his every movement. There was no stopping when he felt your lips curling up into a grin, his hands shifting to wrap around your torso to drag you closer. His heart burst at how perfectly his lips molded with yours, and it seemed as if there was fire shooting up into the sky and exploding—they weren’t fireworks, and the explosion was far bigger and more dangerous. It lit the entirety of the sky, the moon and stars included, into flames, a desire unlike any other.
Your left hand pressed firm against the back of his neck while the other traveled through his hair. Meanwhile, his hands had snuck beneath your shirt and felt for your lower back. Heavy breaths left the two of you as desperation crept through your veins, dictating your every movement. 
The cold touch from his hands ignited your nervous system, every sense activated and overstimulated by Haechan as you released a breathy moan into his mouth.
You didn’t want him, but fuck, you needed him.
When you would pull back, his lips would chase yours, and you two fell into an endless cycle. He couldn’t even fathom how you were pulling away for air when you were his oxygen. Maybe you weren’t oxygen itself, but the fumes you emitted had already replaced his need for air, deluding him into believing that you were what he needed to stay alive.
You were suffocating, toxic, and destructive, and he wanted more. 
After retracting from the kiss for the nth time, you turned your head to hold Haechan back from continuing. You both were panting, your cunt soaking, and he stared into your eyes like a puppy awaiting their next direction.
“Good boy,” you praised, and he laughed lowly and sheepishly, dropping his head as he processed what happened and the idea of it being potentially over. 
“You’re lethal,” he breathed out.
“And you’re pitiful,” you spat. There was a playful grin on your lips, but those words ignited something within Haechan. He raised his head and cocked a brow at you, questioning your genuinity. 
Just minutes ago you were crying over a guy that treated you terribly, and yet here you thought you had the authority to call him weak.
Perhaps he was; he was falling deeper into your pitless trap, enticed with every movement of yours, but he knew for a fact you weren’t any better than him.
You both were sick in the head for falling for people that treated the other like shit, yet your drive, your fuel, to win over the hearts of the people you loved was so strong, and it made you two unstoppable. 
Haechan would punch Yeonjun all over again if he could. 
Without a second thought, Haechan ducked his head down and ruthlessly attached his lips to your neck, eliciting a gasp from you. He kissed your skin fervently, his fingers teasing the rim of your shorts, and your hands shifted to hold onto his shoulders for support. You found yourself tossing your head back, providing him more room to do as he pleased, that if Yeonjun were to see you with marks on your neck, then maybe he’d want you back. 
“Bold of you to call me pitiful,” he grumbled, sucking onto your neck until a blot of purple began to form.
“But it’s true, no?”
“You’re just as bad, Y/N.” He licked a stripe up your neck and over the mark, and the sensation made you cringe, disgust itching at your skin due to being covered in his saliva, but you wanted more of it. You wanted Haechan to treat you like you were nothing, to treat you worse than Yeonjun ever had, so you could direct your blame over to Haechan instead of your unknowing boyfriend.
You turned your head and slotted your lips with his again, already addicted to how perfect they were for you. Haechan knew the exact way to kiss you, to keep you on your toes, as your slick pooled up in your underwear at the mere thought of Haechan touching you.
The kiss was eager, a fight for control, and when Haechan didn’t surrender, you raised your knee, forcing your thigh to brush up against his crotch.
He gasped at the sensation and pulled away, bangs hanging over his eyes as he looked down at the sight. You teased him by keeping your touches gentle, but you made sure to keep your leg moving. Nothing intrigued you more than seeing Haechan beg or rut against your thigh, further proof of how pathetic he was for you. You gained a sense of ego knowing that he could have any girl in the world, that he has had every girl, and yet he would always come back to you. Now that you had him, it would be harder for him to return to a life without you under him, moaning his name.
You wanted to be his downfall. 
Your nails latched onto the mesh, taking note of how easily it would be to rip the material, before pressing your thigh firmly up against his dick, making him jerk.
“You’re-...oh my god, Y/N,” he gasped, breathless. His eyes meet your devious ones, how you were basically Satan himself, and somehow, someway, he wouldn’t ask for anything different. “You’re playing a losing…a losing- game.”
“What more do I have left to lose?” There was some truth in your words as vulnerability struck you. Your leg then lowered as you regained a slight sense of reality, realizing that you were forcing Haechan into being your selfish source of relief. You hated Haechan, sure, but you knew this was the last thing he deserved—to use him when he’d been nothing but accommodating to you.
And your sick and twisted plan was that after this encounter, you’d leave him to rot.
Haechan didn’t deserve that at all. 
But Haechan was already too far gone, too intoxicated, to even consider the repercussions of how he’d end up after this. The loss of contact with his crotch was what had him picking you up from his car, the tips of his fingers digging into your thighs, as he led you to the backseat. 
Your eyes widened, your senses fully back, but you made him like this, and you were going to pay for it. Although scared for about what’s to come, the anticipation had you drooling, your lips pressing fierce kisses onto his skin while he opened the door with you in his arms.
He laid you down gently and crawled over you, keeping you trapped between his arms.
“This is what you wanted, right? For me to tear you apart until you can run back to Yeonjun and justify how poorly he treats you?” 
Your brows bunched up at his words, your legs getting antsy being under him. There was no answering him, not when Haechan already knew how you were going to respond.
He brought one of his hands into your shorts and made the aggravating decision to slide his fingers over your underwear, depriving you of contact with his fingers.
Yet even with your underwear being a divider, he found your clit with ease and immediately started rubbing circles into the bud, making you buck your hips with a whine. The friction of the cloth was something you were unfamiliar with, and lord did it mess with you. 
“You want me to treat you how he sees you? Worthless and undeserving of respect?” He flicked your clit and kissed your jaw. “If that’s what you want, that’s exactly what my princess is going to get.”
“Fuck,” you moaned, using your hands to push onto his shoulders and force him down. The drive to ride his tongue was strong, and if he kept teasing you, you would have lost it.
“I know you inside and out, Y/N. I know you better than him, and this is how you treat me.” He sucked in a cheek but ultimately decided to comply with what you wanted. He pulled off your shorts yet left your underwear on, and his brows raised. He wasn’t sure how his fingers had missed the texture of lace, but what you were wearing was certainly lingerie.
You looked down to see why he stopped, and when you realized why he froze, heat rose to your cheeks.
“I wanted to feel pretty,” you whispered, shutting your eyes after turning your head. It was embarrassing, now that you thought about it, but Haechan’s heart soared, and he wanted nothing more than for you to know how ethereal you looked.
But he shoved the feeling away, allowing his frustrations to get the better half of him. 
When he pulled off your underwear, he cooed at how your essence oozed onto the material and raised the undergarment into the air, waiting for you to look.
“Did I do this?”
His mocking tone kept you from looking, but your curiosity got the best of you. You were met with the sight of a large wet, dark patch on your underwear, biting down on your lip as you looked at him with wide eyes. If you thought about it, you couldn’t remember the last time you felt like this, or if there ever had been a time when you craved someone this badly. 
He tossed it to the side and his hands massaged your thighs, keeping them spread open so he got a proper view of your core on display for him. The sight truly stunned him, reminding him that this was you he fantasized about and replicated with other girls—no one else.
“Do you normally take this long?” you rasped, tossing your head back against the seat, and Haechan rolled his eyes.
“I do you a favor, and this is how you treat me.”
“A favor is a stretch—”
Haechan plunged two fingers into your mouth, having them press firmly down against your tongue. He latched onto your jaw and pulled your head forward and up towards him, having your eyes meet his.
“Remind me, Y/N, who was begging for this?”
He dropped your head back down against the seat before you could even respond and used whatever saliva accumulated in your mouth as temporary lube, figuring that your slick would help him with stretching you out. You grunted at the impact, feeling helpless, as Haechan finally inserted his fingers inside of you. 
Haechan’s fingers were enough to have your eyes rolling, but it was the ring that he wore that stimulated you the most. You weren’t aware that he was even wearing one, yet the cold band against your raging wet heat made you whimper and desperately grasp for his hair.
“Donghyuck, please,” you begged. 
He chuckled and kept his movements slow, forcing you to fuck yourself onto his fingers weakly. When you did, he was in awe at how stunning you looked, how you seemed to be in your own world, and how you were enjoying him. By curling his fingers, a moan was pulled from your throat, making your eyes open as you looked at him. You continued to pool around his fingers, your voice weakly begging for so much more than his fingers and the cold air that brushed against your skin. 
Never had you felt more vulnerable, but Haechan never once made you feel like you were doing something wrong, making you cling desperately to him. You forced his face down into your crotch and jerked at the feeling of his nose brushing up against your clit.
“Shameless, aren’t you?” he commented, laughing lowly, but you were too out of it to care. 
“Shut the-...F-fuck, oh my god.”
Your whines had gotten more incessant the more useless he became, his fingers now completely stilled inside of you as he watched you roll your hips with a cheeky grin. He wanted to drag this out for as long as possible, knowing fully well that he could last all night. 
When he took out his fingers, you were yanked out of your bliss and nearly begged for him to put them back in, but before you could get a word out, he had replaced his digits with his tongue. Your slick was dripping onto his lips, and as he dragged his wet muscle up and down your folds, he made sure to collect a small puddle of you onto his tongue to eventually swallow, wanting to savor you. 
“Oh-...Oh my god, Hyuck—” Your orgasm was approaching, unsure of how it was here so soon, but you recognized the signs from the coil in your chest tightening to losing every sensation to the man beneath you. You rocked your hips continuously onto his tongue, and his thumb attached to your clit, making you see stars with how rapid his movements were. 
He pulled his face back and forced his fingers back into you, and the final curl was what made you reach your peak, your hips in the air as you cried out his name. 
As you came down from your high, you caught a glance of the way Haechan was looking at you; to him, you were otherworldly, and it was a sight he’d never forget. He wondered if Yeonjun ever saw you like this, if he ever made you feel this way, and suddenly his admiration had soured and contoured to something of darkness, rid of any empathy as he now looked at you with some form of disgust. 
“All this for me, and you still have the fucking audacity to choose him.” 
The mention of Yeonjun had your eyes wide open, tears reappearing at the mention and while being in your most vulnerable state. Your legs shook from the aftermath, feeling too weak to continue, yet Haechan seemed to have other plans.
Instead of shoving his fingers back into either of your mouths, he hovered over you and made sure you saw the way he dragged his fingers around your abdomen, drawing aimlessly over your skin with your essence before dragging a hand up to your breasts, massaging one of them as his other hand rested by your waist.
“Tell me, Y/N, did you buy this for him and never got to use it? That’s why you’re wearing it now with me? Am I your sloppy seconds?”
There was a slight growl under his tone, and while you shook your head subconsciously, he worked to remove your shirt, wanting a better look at your bra, before being met with a necklace you had been hiding; one with Yeonjun’s name.
And Haechan took no time breaking it from your neck.
Your jaw dropped, and you snapped out of your daze by sitting straight up, yet as you were about to yell at him for breaking your necklace, he shoved three fingers back into your pussy, shutting you up by having you moan at the intrusion. 
“It looked cheap, anyway,” he muttered, forcing his mouth against yours momentarily to nip on your lower lip, tugging on it so your focus remained on him. 
“That was—he’s mine,” you forced out, gasping at every thrust he made with his fingers, your sweet spot being abused as your hands latched onto his shoulders. You made sure your nails dug into his skin, wanting it to hurt, before pulling onto the mesh, wishing for it to tear. 
“He’s not yours, princess. Tell me, how can you say that when his dick has been up other girls?” With his free hand, he grabbed your face and made sure you were staring straight at him before shoving it to the side. 
“You need to fucking wake up and realize that you can dream all you want about how he’d react if he saw you hopping on my dick, but guess what? He wouldn’t care.” Haechan pulled out his fingers and left you alone in the backseat. 
You sat there, a wreck and vulnerable, as you tried to catch your breath. You lay back on your forearms, curious eyes following his every movement.
“There’s a reason he hasn’t left you yet,” Haechan explained, opening the front door to his car to grab a condom and his phone. He tucked both into his back pocket before returning to you, bringing your lips to his before continuing to talk within the kiss.
“He’s stringing you along so you can boost his ego. He knows you will always be there for him, and you allow him to use you like that?” 
You wrapped your fingers around Haechan’s neck, squeezing it before pushing it away to keep your distance, your frustration starting to grow.
“I’m beginning to think you’re all bark and no bite, Donghyuck,” you muttered, and with whatever strength you had left, you pushed him against the seat and got into his lap. Without hesitation, you started rocking your hips over his clothed dick, hoping your slick would seep in so he could feel you.
He hissed but allowed you to do as you pleased, his grip tight on your hips.
“I-...I think…if you asked me, you’re the one who’s projecting. I’m the one in a relationship, and you’re just a side piece.”
The speed of your hips increased, and Haechan felt ecstasy on the tip of his tongue, the confinements of his pants physically paining him the more you continued.
“You’re jealous, Hyuck. Just admit it.”
You pulled at his hair, loving the absolute control you had over him at that moment, but in one languid motion, Haechan managed to push you back down, this time with your stomach against the seats. You could feel your bodily fluids sticking to the nylon, and with how hard Haechan was pressing down into you, you were barely given a chance to move. 
With one hand on your lower back, he kept you still as he took out both his phone and condom, making sure to place both on top of your bare skin.
“What’s there to be jealous of when you’re here under me? You want to be fucked stupid? Fine. Don’t fucking complain when you want me to be the villain.” You lurched at his words, refusing to let him win, but you were completely unable to do much damage as Haechan kicked off his pants and boxers while still keeping his weight on you.
He then picked up his phone and pulled up the camera, making sure to take a photo of you in his car before clicking record and tossing the phone onto the ground, hoping it was close enough to pick up on your sweet noises. 
“Make sure to be loud for me, yeah? I’m sure Yeonjun would love it if I sent that video to him.”
“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” you bit back, your hand reaching out in an attempt to grab the device, but Haechan was quicker to grab your wrist, pinning it behind your back. 
“I wouldn’t because I know how to appreciate what’s mine.” Haechan released his hold on you to roll on the condom, giving you the opportunity to move and take his phone as you pleased. To your dismay, there was no more effort left within you, only an ache to feel Haechan inside you. 
“He appreciates me,” you mumbled, trying to convince yourself otherwise as you waited.
“Does he record you? Jerk off to your moans every night? Because I would, Y/N, just for you.” His voice was now by your ear, and when you turned your head to look at him, he pulled you into another hungry kiss, his dick now grazing against your hole. 
“You’re fucking insane,” you bit back into the kiss, and he grinned against your lips, guiding his dick into you as he spoke.
“Psychotic, just for my princess.”
Venom laced his voice, dripping menacingly, and the insertion of his tip had you grasping for something in front of you, anything, and it was only then that you were able to process how thick his cock was.
“Can you take it?” he asked, his voice slightly softer than before. When you gave him a curt nod, he continued pushing in further. Maybe lube should’ve been an option, but you were so wet for him that it didn’t matter, knowing that the stretch probably would have hurt regardless. 
“Fuck, fuck—he really doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Haechan gasped, his head resting against the back of yours. It was better than anything he’d dreamed of, better than any girl he imagined, because it was you, and your body was made for him.
“When was the last time he fucked you?” He was fully inside of you now, and when you didn’t answer, he decided to take it as a sign to move. With a firm grip on your waist, he pulled out just to slam back in, making you yell as you clawed at the seat, wishing there was something to bite on as you endured the pain that was quick to morph into pleasure. 
Every glide pushed you further into the car, your forearms occasionally hitting the door, as his hips moved vigorously, working up to a pace that had you moaning without pause. Tears were flowing down your cheeks at the overwhelming pleasure of being manhandled—of being Haechan’s rag doll when he was meant to be yours, and your body seized up, being worked up to your orgasm once more with how precise each thrust seemed to be. 
He adjusted to raise one of your legs to his hip, giving him a new angle to pound into you as he worships you with his dick, and you shook out of pleasure, whining as you saw white and reached your second orgasm for the night. You pulsated around his cock, strangled moans ripping from your throat as tears mixed with your drool by your chin.
And Haechan showed no signs of stopping.
He made sure to press your face down against the seats, wanting every liquid to fall and stain his car, giving him something to remember you by.
Oh, and there was the recording too.
While kneeling inside of the cramped car, he slowed his movements and inclined his torso towards you. In one swift motion, he wrapped his arm around your neck and pulled you up, locking you inside his elbow as he forced you to look into your reflection in the car window.
“Look at you, the school’s favorite slut. What happens if the recording drops? The whole school would know you’re mine, wouldn’t they?” He pressed his chest against your back, the mesh rubbing against your skin as his lips remained near your ear, forcing you to listen to every word.
You limped against him, your flames completely burnt out, and your fingers tugged onto the mesh around his arm, successfully ripping it after some time, but Haechan seemed unphased. In fact, it turned him on even more knowing that he had you locked in, that you were his.
“Look at your pretty cunt taking me in so well. It was so wet for me, wasn’t it? It still is. And guess what? You’re in my car. You belong to me, and my good girl is only now just finding out about it, isn’t she?” 
“I-I’m…I’m not-...not yours,” you retaliated, creating red angry marks into his skin with your nails as you endured being used, stifling your moans as you looked at how wrecked you were, how bare you seemed to be compared to Haechan. You were much more of a mess, from your hair to the bruises on your neck. Your pussy kept tightening up around his dick, convulsing occasionally with every hit toward your g-spot, and you held onto Haechan each time. 
Your head drooped down, thinking about how your heart ached for Yeonjun, yet the rest of your body was meant for Haechan.
“Whose fucking dick is inside of you right now?” He scoffed and pulled on your hair, forcing your head back up so he could directly speak into your ear. “Wake up, Y/N,” he demanded. “You’re mine.”
He dropped you back onto the seat like you were nothing, leaving you completely helpless, your throat void of any words as your eyes closed and met the back of your skull, too fucked out to communicate. You tried reaching for the door handle, just something to hold onto, yet you couldn’t.
“You tell me I’m pitiful, that I’m basically delusional when you’re going to be the reason my car will smell like sex for weeks.”
Your face was forced back into the puddle of liquid you created earlier, being shifted back and forth against the seat as if you were made for his dick and not vice versa.
“It’s crazy how pathetic you are, how willing you are to break yourself down in front of everyone just to have him. That-...fuck…that you’re so convinced he wants you and you two are soulmates.” He dragged his fingers through your hair and grabbed your roots. “You called me, you wanted me, and I have you right now, moaning my name, and you have nothing.”
Something about his words kept bringing out your orgasms, each thrust adding to the pleasure immensely. You didn’t know how much you could handle—afraid you may pass out from how much he was using you, from his tight grip around you to his dick hitting inside of you mercilessly.
Haechan whispering ‘I won, Y/N’ was what had you losing it, your high this time ending up stronger than the rest. You were fully crying now, and yet he continued as if you were nothing.
He peppered your shoulder with kisses and had the slight decency to slow his pace, but he also took note of your sobs.
“Don’t tell me you still want him,” he began rambling, his lips still on your shoulder. “Don’t tell me after this that your heart still belongs to him, because if that were the case, I’d make you call him right now. Say you wish it was him instead of me, and that he’s the love of your life while you’re stuffed with my dick. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
You could no longer think, and what you hated most was how reactive your body was—how you were just able to come for the third time, but Haechan’s dick solely being inside you snapped some other straw you weren’t aware you had, finding that your last high was incoming. 
Haechan had picked up the pace by then, and by knowing your body incredibly well, he reached down to your sensitive clit to relieve you. You both knew your fourth was incoming, and you held on tight to his arm.
“D-Dongh- hyuck, I’m—”
“Mine.”
You cried out, your entire body shaking, and Haechan pulled out, immediately releasing onto your back with a guttural moan after yanking off the condom. He was forced to catch his breath, watching you float in and out of consciousness.
Your eyes were closed, struggling to breathe through your sobs, and Haechan consoled you with a kiss on the back of your shoulder. 
“You’re mine, Y/N, whether you like it or not.”
He then pressed a kiss to your cheek before leaving to grab paper towels from his trunk. You were heaving, still shaking, and left alone as a mess in his backseat, yet with him gone, you felt even more useless, wanting him back by your side instantly. You weakly cried out for him, your nails dragging against the seat in hopes of being in his arms soon, and maybe he was right.
Maybe you were his.
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OUR INFERNO [ M.LIST | TWO ]
NAVIGATION — NCT DREAM
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© https://hcuyk.tumblr.com/
338 notes · View notes
sexlapis · 5 months
Note
toji doing a solo interview then the interviewer takes off his shirt to reveal a shirt underneath with y/n's face on it... toji's baffled reaction 🤭🤭🤭🎀🎀🎀
this is so funny 😭
౨ৎ actor! toji ( implied toji x actress/actor! reader)
sfw, crack
masterlists
actor!toji masterlist
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*
it was nearing the end of toji’s interview (thank god) for the promotion of his new film. it was an informal thing, nothing serious. the interviewer had been a little too energetic for his liking, not that passion for your job is wrong in any way, but toji wasn’t really in the mood and he just wanted to take his old man nap. nevertheless, he was still polite.
“so toji, what do you see in the future for you regarding your career? there have been some rumours about retirement.. is that true? will you still be involved in more movies and acting altogether?”
toji sighed inwardly but forced a tight smile. “i enjoy being an actor and i enjoy working in this industry. i don’t see myself leaving anytime soon.” toji nods, silently urging the guy to wrap this up.
“that’s great!” the interviewer exclaims, smiling widely. “another question…will you be working with _____ anytime soon as well?”
toji’s eyebrows raise. that was a sudden and random question. “uhm. i dunno, maybe?”
“when will you work with _____?”
“i don’t-”
“where will your work with _____?”
“wh-”
“because i really love _____! and i love you and then together too…but more so _____.”
“listen-”
“and!” the interview shoots up from his seat, fiddling with his sweater and tugging it over his head. toji momentarily thinks that he’s about to get naked or something, but no. underneath the interviewers sweater, is a t-shirt with your face on it, inside of a big heart saying, “_____ NUMBER 1 FAN”.
toji has no words. his mouth hangs open as he looks at the shirt and back to the interviewer’s face as he stands with his hands on his hips and smiles proudly.
“what do you think? do you like it?” he runs his hands down his shirt, “i made it myself.”
toji closes his eyes for a second and is just flabbergasted. he scoffs. “what the f..” toji blinks quickly, “i-it’s..yeah, what the hell, it’s a nice shirt. but-”
“thank you!” he shouts. toji looks behind the camera and sees crew members smothering their laughter. “i love _____ so much. please work with them more!”
“uh-huh-”
“i’m their biggest fan!”
“…yeah i think you’re gonna have to fight for that title, buddy.”
the interviewer stands and stares at toji for a second before promptly asking, “are you and _____ dating? everyone wants to know-”
“alright!” toji claps his hands once and rises from his seat, “i think that’s enough,” he pats the guy on the back, “you take care of yourself.” toji walks away, taking himself out of the interview.
“because if you guys are i totally support it!” the interviewer calls out, giving a thumbs up in his direction. “TOJIYN FOR EVER!”
toji’s ears are beet red as the camera pans to him walking away and shaking his head. “christ…”
*
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880 notes · View notes
linos-luna · 3 months
Text
Odd Fantasy ❣️
Yeonjun x Reader
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Warnings: roleplay? CNC, rough sex, spanking, hair pulling, HARD KINK ?
—————————————————— 🤍
It’s a slow boring Sunday and you found yourself doing laundry. While waiting, you sat in the living room with your boyfriend. He was supposed to be watching tv but was more interested in what you were inquiring about. Something you read about online.
“It’s really not that weird.” Yeonjun said with a chuckle.
“It just seems like a weird thing to get pleasure from.”
“Well it’s roleplay, baby.” He said with a shrug. “It’s in a controlled environment and admittedly… kinda sexy.”
“Sexy?” You said, quite baffled as you got up to get the laundry. “Not sure about that.”
“What, you don’t find it sexy?” Yeonjun smirked while grabbing your waist from behind and getting close to your ear. “Just a helpless girl… home alone… when a man swoops in and shows you who’s boss…”
“N-no…” you chuckled nervously. “Not sure I like pretending to be robbed.”
“Yeah? But it’d be agreed upon beforehand. It’d be safe.” Yeonjun said while rubbing his hand up your thigh. “Just imagine…”
You blushed at the feeling, whimpering a bit as he got closer to the crotch of your pants.
“…Just a helpless girl… minding her business when someone comes in… bends her over… and fucks her good…” he smirked while rubbing your sensitive area. “… but she loves it… because she’s never felt so good…”
“M-mhm…” you stuttered before he suddenly let go, making you whine a little.
“But of course, it’s not for everyone.” He teased. “Not everyone is kinky like that. Now go get the laundry, sweetheart.”
You paused and blinked momentarily, completely forgetting about the laundry. “Y-yeah… let me go get that…” you said awkwardly before stepping out.
You thought about what he said while going to the laundry room of your apartment complex. After getting the clothes and returning to the apartment, you put them on the bed. As you were about to fold them, you realized you hadn't seen your boyfriend since you got back.
“Yeonjun…?” You called out while walking back to the living room to look for him. After a bit of searching you went back to the bedroom.
Suddenly, you felt a presence behind you and before you could react, you were grabbed. Pressed against a chest and a hand on your mouth. In a panic, you struggled but it was useless as he was strong.
“Hi darling, I’ve been waiting for you.” The voice said. It was Yeonjun. “Hold still.”
You groaned a bit, trying to say something but his grip was tight. You then tried moving, only for him to sternly jerk you.
“I said hold still!” He said sternly.
You whined and tried moving again, only for him to pull your hair.
“When I say hold still, you hold still!”
Your heart was racing from his stern tone, he’s never spoken to you like that before. It made you freeze but also… excited?
“Good girl…” he smirked while pushing you to the bed, bending you over the edge and yanking your pants down.
“J-Junnie??!”
“Shut up!” A suddenly spank to your ass shut you up really quick, only making you whimper.
“Jun—!”
“Shut up!” He repeated, now pulling down your underwear and lowering his pants and boxers while pinning your hands against your back with one hand.
“You’re gonna take my cock like a good girl, yeah?” He grunted while entering your cunt, surprised that it was already very wet.
“M-mmhm—”
He spanks you harshly and you cry out.
“Yes!”
Yeonjun was pretty satisfied and harshly thrusted, giving no time for adjustment.
“F-fuck! Yeonjun!” You moaned loudly as he mercilessly railed you into the bed. “F-fuck fuck fuck!”
“Taking me well…” he grunts. “You like it, huh?”
It was hard to respond as your mind went to mush. His hips thrusted so hard that the bed would move and sound of skin slapping echoed off the walls. He hit that bundle of nerves over and over, making you lose it. But he wasn’t lying; you loved it.
“Agh—! Fuck—! Jun—!” You moaned louder as he continued pounding you.
The feeling was so exhilarating. You were aroused by his words and enjoyed how rough he was. It opened a new feeling you never thought you could feel from a moment like this.
“Dirty girl… you love this shit!” He laughed deviously as he felt you squeeze around him, getting closer to your high.
Your eyes rolled back as you finally released. Before you could relax, Yeonjun pulled out and flipped you over.
He pumped his length a few times before releasing on your stomach, then putting his hands to your neck, choking you lightly.
“You like that, baby?” He panted, getting close to your face as his cock rubbed against your sensitive cunt. “What’s wrong, darling?”
“J-junnie—!” You whined as his cock was overstimulating you. The lightheadedness from his grip also felt euphoric. “F-fuck…” you panted, sounding almost as if you were giggling a bit from the high.
“Mmhm?” He smirked while giving sloppy, open mouth kisses to your parted lips. “More? You want more, right dirty girl?”
You couldn’t respond, only holding his wrist and gasping to catch your breath as he continued choking you. He only let go when it seemed you were on the verge of passing out.
You gasped when he let go, trying to get your vision to focus on him.
A complete 180 from his rough demeanor just a minute ago, Yeonjun leaned over you and gently rubbed your cheek.
“Did you like that, babygirl?” He asked while kissing your forehead. “Did I please you~?”
“Mmhm.” You responded, still sounding high.
“Would you like it again sometime?” He asked softly.”
You only nodded, still lost in pleasure. Yeonjun thought you were adorable and kissed at your neck, hoping to leave some marks behind. You closed your eyes while feeling his soft plump lips against your neck. It felt heavenly…
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randombush3 · 9 months
Text
falling (for you)
Ona Batlle x Reader
Summary: despite your precision on the pitch, you are somehow the clumsiest person ever when you are off it. your girlfriend doesn’t really mind though.
Words: 1539
Notes: kicking off the woso x reader fics with my fav obvs xx (and still pretending she didn’t leave utd)
Requested!!!
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You stare at the shattered bowl in shock.
You hadn’t meant to drop it, and really it’s all the stupid rug’s fault for catching your toes and sliding on the hardwood floor. The pool of soup drowning the smashed ceramic makes you gulp, wondering what your girlfriend will say when she sees the mess you have created.
Bending down to inspect the damage properly, you lean towards the vegetable chunks swimming in what was supposed to be your lunch. The rug is ruined, that’s for sure. And, despite your athleticism, your legs creak at the position and you begin to wobble. Heading straight into the—
“Uh oh.” The only other person in this apartment has found you at the right time, pulling on your t-shirt to keep you from face-planting into the dangerous soup/bowl combination. “What happened?”
Ona laughs softly as you startle, gripping onto you harder as you almost lose your balance again. You stand, deciding it’s safer to be upright. “I dropped my soup. The rug was in the way.”
“Mi amor, most people can walk on the rug without creating abstract art all over it.” You tilt your head, hoping the splodge of brown liquid might actually complement the design. “I will help you clean.”
“I’m sorry,” you start, familiar with these words by now. However, your girlfriend, with her beautifully forgiving nature, places a finger to your lips, shushing you from rambling another hurried apology about wrecking some part of your shared home. Yesterday, it was walking into a shut door while carrying her. The day before, it was knocking the chess pieces off the board when you reached for your drink.
Ona’s love for you only grows with each clumsy mishap, though she has to frequently defend herself against Tooney’s teasing for that fact because of it. She wouldn’t change you for the world, even if you are more accident-prone than Alessia, who is infamous for that exact aspect of her personality.
“Your girlfriend is scary,” Leila mutters in Spanish to her friend as Manchester City crowd the Reds’ box, fighting for a goal in today’s derby. Ona glances at you, momentarily distracted from her mission to not concede. You have your hand pressed firmly against the back of a City player, your slight nudges bordering on punishable shoving.
Leila, though not usually needing to meet you on the pitch, has been tackled by you a fair bit this game. It’s no secret that you are a fierce defender. Your slide tackles are clean cut like the sharp edges of knives Ona would never let you hold, and your challenges are strong and determined and… the opposite of the lumbering person you are without a ball at your feet.
Once more, Ona is baffled by this phenomenon as you clear the ball to the feet of Russo, who sets off on the counter attack with a vicious pace. Having been instructed to press high this match, you take advantage of your slightly advanced knowledge of where the ball is, and chase after the forward, shouting at her to pass when there is a clear space for you on the left wing.
Less looks up and feigns right, the defender in front of her lunging in the same direction. Well into the eighteen yard box, she can see the goal ahead. Your continued call for the ball makes her believe you’re unmarked and in a better position to shoot. She knows you played up front in your old club.
What she doesn’t see is Leila, who you can’t seem to shake this game, stuck to your side, ready to poke her foot into the pinging pass you have just been sent. It’s a guaranteed interception.
Or is it?
Because you pull the ball back from her reach skilfully, and it sticks to your feet as you dribble towards an even better angle to kick the ball into the back of the net. In fact, Leila audibly gasps as you nutmeg her, your shoulder holding a strong foundation against the other defenders trying to get the ball off you. It must be, what? Three to one? And you’re winning.
You beat the confused goalkeeper, who has had to come out further than she’d hoped to help her defenders as they fail to do their jobs, and it’s an easy shot to help the ball find home in the other team’s goal. Half of the crowd erupts into elated cheers. The others sit back, shocked.
Your team, who had pulled out of the box to allow you the space to dribble, surge towards you as you watch the net ripple — white against the sea of red behind it. They shout in your ear, patting your back, squashing you with hugs as you catapult Manchester United into the lead. Only Ona catches your subtle trip as your studs catch the turf cumbersomely when you are walking back to your position for the game to restart. She can’t help the smile on her face from growing three sizes.
The POM award in one hand, and Ona’s in the other, you giddily skip to the changing room after the match, recounting each minute as though the defender hadn’t played alongside you.
“It felt so good to score again!” you squeal with excitement, still running off the adrenaline from your goal. “Like, obviously defence is gratifying in its own way, and I’m happy to play there because it clicks better with the team, but, Ona, scoring? Scoring gets the crowd to go mental. And at one of the most important games! You should have seen me, babe. I was on some next-level Brazilian fire.”
“I did see you,” Ona replies, tugging you closer so she can wrap her arm around your shoulders. Your boots clack against the hard floor in the tunnel, but the satisfying sound is drowned out as you continue to ramble.
Until you slip, your studs gliding across a shiny patch on the floor.
Ona jumps in surprise, but she manages to grab ahold of you to keep you upright.
You laugh it off together, though Ona is aware of the blush dusting your cheeks and does you a favour by asking the social media manager not to post the video she (un)fortunately took of the whole situation on the team Instagram.
As you make your way into the changing room, Ona turns to the giggling woman, holding in her own grin. “Can you send that to me?” she asks with a wink. “For the memories.”
“Definitely,” she replies.
Ona falls deeper in love with you when she receives it later that night, watching the video and chuckling quietly to herself as you sleep nestled into her side.
“I’m a beast,” you murmur, lips pressed into her neck. Your hot breath against her skin causes her stomach to flutter, and she shifts, offended that you have let her believe you were asleep the whole time. She’s been rewatching the video over and over for the past five minutes.
“You are clumsy.” You sit up, though the swiftness of your movement is ruined as your hand catches in a folded part of the duvet, getting stuck as you attempt to implement a distance between yourself and your girlfriend. “See.”
Her arms fold over her chest as you formulate a response that isn’t flipping her off and scrambling back on top of her.
“I’m a beast in the sheets and clumsy on the streets?” you try, but she only raises her eyebrows.
“You fell off the bed the last time we—”
“Pitch doesn’t rhyme with streets!” you interrupt, trying to defend yourself. “And, if I remember correctly, you were more than happy to continue on the floor. So who’s falling now?”
Your Spanish girlfriend looks at you, puzzled. Lost in translation.
“The girls keep saying that I’m falling for you.” Her eyebrows remain knitted together in confusion. “Baby, as in ‘falling in love’. Estoy enamorada de ti.”
“Que mona,” she giggles, squishing your cheeks together. “Your pronunciation is improving. Finally.” Your cheeks burn red, though Ona cannot see that in the darkness of your bedroom.
“My teacher works slowly because she likes it a little too much when I start speaking Spanish to her,” you tease. “I’ve had to get Lucia to help me out. Te quiero mucho, Onita. See!”
“Perfecto,” she replies with a smile, happy to take whatever allusion to a Spanish accent you can produce. But you’re not silly. Her eyes have squinted like they do when she is trying to suppress her laughter. “No, es la verdad, es la verdad,” she splutters as you hold her gaze, unimpressed.
“You liar,” you grumble, reaching over to prod her in the stomach with your index finger.
It isn’t a surprise when you misjudge the space you have on the bed, hitting the ground with a thud. Ona doesn’t try to keep quiet about how funny she finds that, but she pulls you up despite her shoulders shaking from her guffaws.
“Estoy enamorada de ti también,” she gets out between her gasps for breath, kissing away your frown as you try to come back from the embarrassment. “And I love how you fall in love with me.”
976 notes · View notes
2-dsimp · 8 days
Note
I have a cat, who loves to just stare at me when I'm sleeping in the early morning since my cat wants food/attention. Often times I've woken up to the little brat face to face as my cat then meows at me for pets and breakfast.
I feel like Yujin is similar, in that if he was living/staying with his darling, like that y/n would wake up to see Yujin standing over their bed or even on top of them grinning widely, his face so close to y/n they can feel his breath on their cheek, as he just says "hi." Before cuddling or wanting attention and love, not letting his darling get up but also not letting them go back to sleep since he can now have their attention since his darling is awake.
『Featuring your Yandere Hacker being a sleep cock blocker』
————-;———-;———
Y/n: “mmh what are you? A wannabe insomnia demon? Get off you’re too heavy”
This man was literally staring down at you eyes unblinking as his body acted like a flesh blanket. covering you underneath his weight. At first it felt comforting but with his body heat rising it made you all clammy.
Yujin: “Nuh uh cmonn don’t be like that babycakes~ it’s such a beautiful day outside meaning it’s the perfect time for you to be showering me in attention”
Y/n: “You want attention? Then here go fetch!”
You momentarily struggled to grab ahold of a stray marshmellow plushie but managed and hurled it across the room. At first this was a desperate attempt to distract him so he could ease his weight off you but to your surprise it vanished entirely. You cracked your eyes open and became baffled. Seeing him happily bounding towards the plush. Taking it into his mouth before smugly straddling you once more as a satisfied purr rumbled from his chest.
Yujin: “Now was that so hard for you to do babe?”
————-;———-;———
The Hacker can be such a cheeky little shit I swear—
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lovingseventeen · 1 year
Text
・❥・ unexpectedly kissing seventeen ・❥・
a/n: just a random smooch yk LOL. here's my little thank you for 500 followers on this blog !! please feel free to reach out to me whenever,, i love love interacting with y'all i just can't reply in the comments because this isn't my primary blog!
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seungcheol:
✿ totally caught him off guard as you plopped next to him on the couch and turned his head to face you for a quick peck
✿ his eyes are wide and his eyebrows are raised, but you pay no such attention as you get back up, satisfied in getting what you wanted
✿ he quickly pulls you back (gently) by your arm to make you sit back down
✿ "what was that!"
✿ "a kiss" you laughed, amused at the remnants of surprise on his face
✿ "you think you can just walk away with one?"
jeonghan:
✿ refuses to allow you to be bolder than him LMAO
✿ he doesn't let you pull away if you just intended on a short kiss
✿ a hand comes up behind your head to keep you where you are, tangling itself in your hair as he kisses you deeper
✿ he's satisfied with you being pinker than him
joshua:
✿ absolutely loves it
✿ smiles into the kiss (the kind where the corners of his eyes crinkle) when he sees you leaning in
✿ he molds into you so easily even for a brief moment
✿ one of his hands linger on your cheek as he looks at you after with pure adoration (UGH)
jun:
✿ baffled in the best way
✿ eyebrows are raised and his eyes were wide when your lips touched bc he was so unready
✿ “wow you just did that” he notes
✿ “yes i did” you laughed, “should i not do that anymore?”
✿ “no!” he almost exclaimed, “i mean no, you should do it whenever you like”
✿ this starts a very cute habit of spontaneous kisses from both of you
hoshi:
✿ he was in the kitchen in the morning, wandering around trying to figure out what to eat
✿ you waltz in the kitchen and a smile immediately finds it’s way his face as soon as he sees you
✿ “good morning baby—”
✿ for no particular reason, you dramatically wrapped your arms around his neck, dropping some of your weight on him, and kissed him a bit more passionately that your usual morning kisses
✿ his arms instinctively wrap around your waist, welcoming this very pleasant surprise
✿ he deepens the kiss, eventually lifting you onto the kitchen counter to continue, walking into the space between your legs to kiss you deeper when you pull away, breathless
✿ he’s smirking, “you started it”
wonwoo:
✿ when your lips connect softly, one of his hands come to find your forearm to hold it
✿ he doesn't say much about it but he wasn't one to complain either
✿ but you do find him smiling to himself after (he's very cute)
woozi:
✿ he was listening to something with headphones on, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration making him just a little bit irresistible in how cute he was
✿ as you're walking past him you hold his arm and casually kiss his lips
✿ the crease between his eyebrows disappears and before he can say anything you're already walking away LOL
✿ soon enough he realizes he forgot to keep listening to the song playing after momentarily malfunctioning
dokyeom:
✿ cupping his cheeks and pressing a kiss to his lips that last a second longer than a peck
✿ you can hear the "mm?" of surprise from him
✿ so so blushy, you’ve flustered him
✿ “baby what’d you do that for..” it’s a whine but you can tell he loved it
mingyu:
✿ i feel like he's the perfect amount of clingy
✿ will NOT allow a quick kiss and run
✿ when you're pulling away, his lips follow yours and he's so POUTY when you fully break away by stopping his chest with your hand :(((
✿ a very unashamed whine leaves him, "y/n..."
✿ you have to give in ofc
minghao:
✿ it's so easy to fit into him and he welcomes you with his arms like it's second nature
✿ won't whine when you break away but he's the kind of boyfriend to fix your hair or something after
✿ i dunno, a simple gesture of tucking your hair behind your ear or just slightly straightening your shirt with a hair pat with a fond smile seems very him AA
seungkwan:
✿ (jokingly) scandalized
✿ a hand covers his lips as he gasps
✿ "y/n!" he exclaims, as if you haven't kissed before
✿ kiss him again and deeper the second time and you'll really get him blushing
vernon:
✿ sometimes you just had urges to kiss your boyfriend, and why not!
✿ even as you were both casually on your phones, you turned to him, placing a hand on his chest as you gave him a quick kiss
✿ momentarily questions the sudden gesture but also remembers that he loves your kisses, so why should he complain?
✿ little vernon chuckle and smile when you pull away, you both return to you phones but he reaches to hold your hand (he's happy)
dino:
✿ omg he takes this it as challenge
✿ you got him so flustered when you did it the first time LOL
✿ "y/n you can't just do that!" he whined
✿ he tries to fluster you back, going so far as to do one of those dance dips with you as you're walking out of your kitchen as he gives you a big smooch
✿ touché lee chan
2K notes · View notes
Text
I Hate You
Five times Ed told Xenk he hates him, and one time... he tells him he hates him again, actually.
2.3k, Rated T for swears.
~~~
1
Xenk strides ahead through the winding tunnels of the Underdark, his pretentious cape billowing behind him.
It’s like he has his own personal wind, Ed thinks. Probably generates it himself, the smug bastard, no magic required.
The eery little creatures on the walls around them pulsate gently as they pass, their shimmering tentacles casting a dim blue light across Xenk’s armour. It glimmers. There’s something oddly hypnotic about it. Ed wonders when he last polished it. He was probably polishing it that very morning, desperate not to get a speck on it.
Fucking paladins. Fucking Harpers.
Ed watches him forge on ahead with increased annoyance.
“I hate you,” he whispers. Xenk says nothing, but the tilt of his head is enough for Ed to know he heard.
*
2
After the incident in Neverwinter, Ed does not become rich beyond his wildest dreams. He does not bring home cartloads of gold. He does not swap out cotton for silk and linen.
What Ed does is quietly curse Xenk under his breath every time he thinks about what he could have had. He isn’t poor - heroes of the realm aren’t left to freeze and starve, after all - but he always wonders what life would be like with a little more lining in his pockets.
That is what makes him to take the job offer when it lands at his feet. Although it’s a difficult job to say no to - a request from the old Lord himself, who has sought out Ed and Holga’s skills personally, to deal with what he describes as a spot of bother in a town a few miles from the city. This time, Kira is undeniably nervous but seems keen for them to go: they’re heroes, now, she reminds them. For the first time, Ed realises that she’s proud of him, and that would convince him to do nearly anything.
He muses, as he dodges out of the way of the snarling creature that’s been eating the local’s sheep and goes barreling into a towering pile of hay bales, that he is very glad Kira cannot see him right now. For a baffling moment, straw poking him in all the wrong places, he has no idea which way is up, flailing wildly for something to grab.
And then he does. He wraps his hand around something firm and strong and cold and—
He's heaved to his feet. Standing in front of him, radiant in his armour and the dazzling light, is Xenk.
Ed quickly lets go of his arm.
“Greetings, Edgin.”
Behind him, surrounded by villagers making ohh noises, is the decapitated body of the beast that Ed had been fighting, not seconds before.
“I had it under control,” Ed says.
“Of course.” Xenk smiles.
Ed thinks of the reward money. Of the accolades. Kira’s pride.
“...I hate you,” Ed says.
The smile does not fade. “Of course.”
*
3
First things first: Ed stinks. The stink is everywhere, it’s like it's in his bones, under his skin, in his head.
At least the damn dragon is dead.
“Please, oh heroes, please help us slay the beast!”
Ed had such high hopes. On the ride from their home to the mountainside town, he and Holga had been excitedly discussing how they would split the dragon’s hoard. Gems, jewels, piles of gold: they’d be rich, even after splitting it five ways.
Five. It had taken five of them to slay a dragon last time, after all.
And then, of course, there had been no gems, no jewels, no piles of gold taller than Ed stood.
What sort of shitty dragon hoards garbage?
No wonder the townspeople wanted rid of it.
He slides from the huge pile of muck. He can hear Holga cursing behind him, something about "and it’s in my fucking hair, too", while Doric, transformed momentarily into an enormous bear, attempts to lift a particularly sticky slab of debris from Simon.
Ed tries to stand, slips, and falls down again. This time at least he’s got his mouth shut.
“Need a hand?”
Ed looks up from where he’s on his knees in what he really, really hopes isn’t raw sewage. For a moment, he’s blinded by the sun, then the shadow ahead of him shifts, moves, and suddenly the light is blocked.
Xenk peers down at him, illuminated from behind, one hand extended.
Ed does not take it but instead struggles to his feet, determined not to fall again. He spits as he finally manages to stand.
“How the fuck—”
Xenk is spotless. From his dazzling armour to his perfect cape and his flawless skin. There is not a speck of dirt or shit or mud or even blood on him.
For a moment, Ed can only gape at him with his mouth open. He feels something cold and slimy slide down his back.
“I hate you.”
He goes to push Xenk aside (he dodges, of course he dodges) and strides away.
*
4
How Xenk became a regular member of Ed and Holga’s party, Ed just isn’t sure. It’s not just him: Simon, of course, joins them often, as does Doric when she’s able or the need arises. Ed enjoys having them both around - even if their whole on-again-off-again thing is beginning to piss him off - but Xenk is another matter entirely.
What really annoys him, really, actually gets on his nerves, is the fact that everyone else seems to love him. Sure, Xenk is noble and clever and a brilliant fighter. Yes, he’s a keen tactician and diplomat and is popular wherever he goes, and of course he’s the best swordsman Ed has ever seen and is furiously, distractingly handsome, but—
Where was that thought going?
Right, yes. 
Everyone else loves him. But, of course, everyone loves Ed, too. Ed is just as popular, even if he is a bit more abrasive. Everyone loves a bard. That’s the way of things. 
This is, Ed knows, a dangerous path to let his thoughts wander down when he’s several pints in as they celebrate a decisive victory and is swiftly seeing those pints down with several more, just to keep the first ones safe.
Simon is describing a stunt that Xenk pulled off to an adoring crowd of onlookers. Ed isn’t even sure what part of the daring deed he’s talking about, but the way the crowd is enraptured by his story is grating on him regardless. 
Ed sees back his pint, nearly drops the tankard on the table, and the words spill from his mouth before he can stop them - not that he would try anyway.
“I hate you,” he mumbles.
Simon doesn’t stop in his story. None of his audience notices. 
But Xenk looks up. He catches Ed’s eye across the table. This, Ed thinks. Let this be it. Let him drop that stupid facade and throw himself across the table and hit me. Go on. He eggs him on in his mind. He wonders what his face is doing. Do it, he thinks. Do it. 
Xenk… does nothing. He smiles, the bastard.
The next thing Ed remembers is being poured into a bed in the roof of the inn. Someone is holding him up, making sure he doesn’t trip. There’s a metallic sounding clang that puts his teeth on edge, and when he rolls over he realises that someone’s placed a mental bucket beside the mattress.
“Sorry.”
He looks up. Xenk leans over him. No: he doesn’t lean over him. He’s standing a measured distance away, holding himself carefully.
Ed mumbles something. Xenk smiles again.
When Ed wakes up, horrible dawn light slicing across his face, he’s alone.
*
5
It’s all gone a bit wrong. Ed would be the first to admit when it goes wrong, but this time—
This time they’re truly fucked.
They shouldn’t have gone in with three people. But everyone else was busy, and they were running out of time, and so they entered the tower as a trio: He, Holga - and Xenk.
He’s been getting sort of used to having him around.
Which is what makes this—
It’s what makes this so bad.
He hoists him up over the edge of the demolished floor, pulling him up onto the stone beside him. Holga calls from somewhere up above - she’s coming to get them. Just stay there. Just hold on.
That’s what he mutters to Xenk, too, as he pulls his armour away. 
Ed has never seen Xenk’s cloak stained red, before. The colour looks wrong.
Xenk’s eyes are closed. Ed’s hands shake as he strips off the armour. Xenk would hate to see him treat the expensive plate so carelessly - not that he would see fit to tell him that himself, not in the sort of language that Ed would use, anyway.
Ed presses his hand’s to the paladin’s chest. He’d feared this. Not this exactly, but the fear of being without a magic user is what forced him to finally tap into his buried bard’s magic late sometime last year. The going has been rough, even with Simon’s - and, to Ed’s surprise, Xenk’s tutelage. He’s learnt little, but enough.
It has to be enough.
Ed’s hands stain Xenk’s shirt in scarlet smears. Xenk's blood is hot. Like this, he suddenly seems human. Fragile.
Ed mutters the healing words. It’s the only healing spell he knows, and he’s shitty at it and exhausted to boot, but at this stage he’s willing to try anything.
He feels the magic course through him, down his arms, into Xenk’s chest. There’s a strange, floating moment where he feels the steady thud of Xenk’s heart in his hands, all the way up into his core. Ed can feel his eyes drooping. He’s so tired.
But Xenk opens his eyes.
“Ed?” 
Ed’s never seen him look so scared.
No: that’s wrong. He’s seen him look this scared once before - the moment the hand had wrapped around his torso and pulled him over the edge into the darkness.
Everything hurts. Ed pulls his hands away, and feels himself falling.
“I hate you.”
And then it all goes black.
*
+1
A gentle wind carries with it the smell of fresh leaves and summer wildflowers. Behind Xenk, hooked neatly on the protruding branch of a tree, his cloak moves in the breeze like ocean waves.
Edgin is unusually quiet. He’s leaning against the tree, his lute on his lap, although he isn’t playing. He stares out at something that Xenk cannot see.
“Edgin?”
There’s no response. Xenk goes to sit next to him, crossing his legs and settling straight-backed at his side.
After a few more moments of silence, Edgin finally speaks.
“It’s been a year, you know.”
Xenk turns to look at him. He does not pay too much attention to the passing of time: the celebration of dates and numbers.
“Since?”
Edgin does not respond, but sits up properly, leans forwards, and tugs at the open neck of Xenk’s undershirt, exposing the edge of the twisting scar that splits his dark skin.
Oh. He supposes it has been a year: although it feels like far less time has passed. A lot has changed in a single year - a lot that once terrified him. It feels less frightening now.
“I see.”
“Do you?”
There’s a sudden heat in Edgin’s voice. Like he’s held these words back for too long, and now they’re scorching him.
“Do you see, Xen? Do you really?”
Xen. Xenk cannot remember the last time someone gave him a diminutive name. This is another thing that’s changed in the last year. Before, he would have demanded his full name. But now… Now it makes him feel like he belongs. He belonged to the Harpers, in a way. He had taken dozens of oaths, oaths designed to make many feel like one.
But this— this is different. It was different when Edgin and Holga accepted him as one of the gang, and it’s even more different now, sitting here alone in the sunshine with Edgin.
Ed.
“I—” he struggles with his words, now. He never did before. “Tell me how you see it.”
Ed takes a deep breath. 
“It’s been a fucking year, Xen,” he says. His words have cooled but not extinguished, like fresh-forged red steel. “A year since I thought you were dead. Since we—”
Xenk knows what he’s thinking of. He’s remembering that night - the night after Ed had pulled him back from the brink, nearly throwing himself over in the process. The long, still evening broken by the quiet, quickly smothered confession.
“I told you I hated you,” Ed says, finally. His words are just steam, now. Light and ephemeral.
“You did,” Xenk agrees. 
“I never— I never said sorry.”
“I know you did not mean it.”
Ed’s expression cracks. “Part of me did,” he admits, at last. “I hated you for— for leaving us.” And then, even more quietly: “...leaving me.”
The air feels heavy around them. Xenk twists around to better look at him. He takes Ed’s jaw between gentle fingers, feeling the scratch of his stubble, the gentle puff of his breath when Xenk rubs his thumb against his lip.
Ed does not resist as Xenk pulls him forwards and presses their lips together. Even now, it still thrills him - fills him in a way that all the magic and oaths in the world could not. Xenk thought he knew goodness, until now. He thought he knew devotion. He was wrong.
When they finally part, Ed stares at him with wide, dark eyes. He looks like a man lost.
He blinks once. Twice. And then his expression splits into one that Xenk has grown both familiar and fond of: a cocky grin to shrug off the fact that Ed has just experienced an emotion.
“You mushy bastard,” he says. “I hate you.”
Xenk grins, and kisses him again.
“No,” he says. “You do not.”
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unpublishediary · 1 month
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4th of July Confessions [ conrad fisher ]
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SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ conrad confesses his feelings for you after a week of fighting and makes sure you know his feelings are real.
INTEREST₊˚ conrad fisher x you
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Not much time had passed since Conrad started his plan to win you back, and you were already growing suspicious.
First, it started with him going to your favorite place to grab your breakfast. He made it a point to hand you a croissant with more than familiar packaging, a gesture that seemed to bring back memories and leave you questioning his intentions.
Then he sat right next to you, even nudging your knee with his as you all ate breakfast, a deliberate closeness that bordered on invasive, stirring up a greater mixture of nostalgia and confusion within you.
Now he was volunteering to help you make the guest bedroom for Belly's dad and his dad's girlfriend.
You knew that Conrad had never been one for chores or family obligations lately. His sudden enthusiasm for helping out was as baffling as it was unexpected. Yet, there he was, smoothing out the sheets with surprising skill as he carefully arranged the pillows on the freshly made bed. It was as if he was determined to prove something to you, though you couldn't quite guess what that something might be.
The fact it was the 4th of July made the Cousins Beach air buzz with excitement and anticipation. Flags fluttered in the breeze, and the distant crackle of fireworks echoed through the neighborhood. The sun beat down, casting a warm glow over everything, as if the day itself was celebrating. But you knew that couldn't be it.
Conrad and you worked side by side, folding sheets and fluffing pillows in the guest bedroom, a comfortable rhythm settling between you. It was a far difference from the awkwardness that had plagued your interactions in recent days, replaced instead by a sense of closeness.
Conrad's sleeves were rolled up, revealing the faint sheen of sweat on his brow as he worked diligently, his movements precise and focused. You couldn't help but steal glances at him when he wasn't looking, admiring the way the sunlight caught the strands of his hair and the curve of his jawline.
Your conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by shared memories and inside jokes that seemed to bridge the gap between you. With each passing moment, the tension that had once lingered between you melted away, replaced instead by a growing sense of ease and familiarity.
As you smoothed out the final wrinkles in the freshly made bed, Conrad stole a sideways glance at you, his eyes softening with unspoken affection. It was a moment suspended in time, a fleeting glimpse of the connection you had once shared and the possibility of what could be.
"We both know I didn't volunteer just to help you make a bed," Conrad remarked, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of playfulness as he sat on the finished bed. "I've been wanting to talk to you forever."
You followed him, sitting down next to him. Your gaze met his with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. Like you had predicted, there was more to Conrad's sudden eagerness to help than met the eye, and now, as you stood face to face, you couldn't ignore the tension that crackled between you.
"Is that why you insisted on helping me instead of Belly? She did give me a pancake apology," you replied, your tone light but tinged with a hint of teasing.
Your question hung in the air, a thread of curiosity along with a hint of suspicion. As you watched Conrad's reaction, you couldn't help but notice the subtle tightening of his jaw, the way his gaze momentarily flickered, betraying his intention to keep his emotions beneath the surface.
His fingers absently traced the pattern on the bedsheet, a nervous energy coursing through him, while his gaze remained fixed on some distant point, as if lost in a sea of conflicting thoughts.
"I mean, I did tell her off at that party if that helps," you offered, your voice light but teasing. You nudged him with your shoulder, a silent invitation for him to share his thoughts.
Conrad's tension eased slightly at your touch, the warmth of your proximity a balm to his troubled soul.
He glanced at you, his eyes softening with a mixture of gratitude and amusement. "Yeah, I heard something about that," Conrad's lips quirked into a smile at your remark, his gaze softening, "The night of our sleepover, right?"
You nodded, a soft chuckle escaping your lips like a fleeting breeze. The memory of that night danced between you, letting you share a flicker of warmth.
You both fell into another comfortable silence, only to be interrupted by the soft rustle of fabric as you leaned your shoulder into Conrad's. Sensing your proximity, Conrad instinctively inclined his head towards yours. He missed your laughter, but it was more like he missed laughing with you. So much that he found himself on the edge of confession.
In a voice barely above a whisper, Conrad's words lingered in the air, tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "I know we can't go back in time," he paused, "but I want to know everything I missed," he confessed, his nerves palpable despite his attempt to mask them.
You stayed silent.
Conrad's courage swelled within him. With newfound determination, he lifted his gaze to meet yours, his voice a gentle murmur meant for your ears alone. "I really miss you. I miss Bambi, our secret meetings, everything," Conrad admitted, his sincerity echoing in the tender space between you.
Your gaze met Conrad's with an intensity that sent a rush of warmth flooding through your veins. In that moment, you realized how much you felt the same, and it was scary. It was scary that after everything that happened, you could still feel the same way about him that you did the summer before.
Both of you were closer than ever, but you didn't mind.
Your eyes locked, a silent conversation passing between you as you leaned in, your breaths mingling in the space between you. With a gentle touch, Conrad cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your jawline, sending shivers down your spine.
Who initiated the final movement would remain unknown. Yet, in that brief instant of contact, your worlds collided. Your lips met his in a tender embrace. It was a kiss filled with longing and reassurance, a promise of all the words left unspoken. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you lost yourselves in the warmth of each other's embrace.
"Guys!" A series of knocks on the door followed Steven's voice. It startled you both, causing you to pull away rapidly, "They're here!"
Breathless and flushed, Conrad's forehead pressed against yours, your hearts beating in sync. In the quiet aftermath, you shared a smile that turned into nervous laughs, "I also missed this," Conrad murmured, his voice a gentle caress against your skin, as you lingered in the quiet space between words. Had you finally found your way back?
You stood up, taming your curls the best you could with your fingers, "Come on, let's go."
NOTE: this scene is a part of my conrad x oc fic. No prior reading is needed to understand, but if youre interested in reading here are the links (rec to read on watt for faster updates, but a03 is fine too):
wattpad link
a03 link
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crusty-chronicles · 8 months
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is there any chance you could add killua for the airheaded but strong s/o headcanons? If not, then no worries, I just love how you write them!
Yeah, I don't mind but it's gonna be platonic because I'm a little iffy about writing for him romantically. He's just a boy 🥺🥺🥺 This is mostly a crack fic.
BONUS AIRHEADED S/O HEADCANNONS: Killua (HxH)
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Honestly tried to kill you at one point
Oh you're strong huh?
Then proceeds to hit you with everything he's got, only to see that it hardly affected you. (Kinda like the way he first treated Zushi)
After that he's petty, but impressed.
Congratulations 🎉🎉🎉 You've earned his respect 🥳🥳🥳
You're basically Gon 2.0
And he hates it
Cannot take you two anywhere
"We should break the lock to get in." Gon suggested.
"Are you stupid?" You scoffed.
"What's the point of having a door if you're just gonna break it?"
And Killua is momentarily at peace that at least one of you has some sense. Until you open your mouth again.
"Obviously we should smash open a window."
And Gon is nodding along enthusiastically
"You're right! What would we do without you 🤩"
And Killua is just 😮‍💨.
He is the parent of the group and I will die on this hill
If Gon's the sun, you're a nuke
He's constantly dragging you away from Hisoka
Nope. Not today
Why do you insist on talking to strangers.
No scratch that.
Why do you insist on talking to creepy strangers????
It gives him a massive headache everytime you almost get abducted.
Honestly thought about putting a tracker on you to avoid this happening.
But then he remembers you're practically indestructible so he drops it.
Is afraid Illumi will come for you and hurt you.
He was never allowed to have friends, and after Illumi threatened you and Gon at the Hunter Exam, he's very protective.
But then he remembers something you said after Greed Island.
"The three of us are all gonna become the best of the best. We're gonna get all wrinkly and old together and still kick butt!!! We're gonna stick together no matter what!"
And it temporarily quells the fear of his brother.
It makes him look forward to that outcome and gives him something to fight a little harder for.
When it comes to fighting, he does get a little envious of how you and Gon just rush in without thinking.
And how you always manage to win despite the circumstance.
But he never feels left behind because of it.
Like with Gon, he won't baby you, just call you an idiot and move on.
You fell?
Get up loser.
You can't read?
Find somebody else to translate. Or he'll make you do it and be laughing nonstop while you struggle to pronounce the word "Apple"
"Gon what color's an orange?"
"An orange is the same color as it's name. Just like a lemon."
Please somebody take you two back to first grade.
Killua is begging.
Even though he won't baby you, he'll rush as fast as he can if you're in actual danger.
You got caught by the phantom troupe?
"Are you completely brain dead!?!!? Where are you!?!?"
Now he regrets not putting a tracker on you.
"This nice clown man gave me candy and told me to follow him." You tell him over CALL.
"HISOOKAAAAA!!!!"
He is screaming and panicking.
You trespassed into the mountains his family lives to see him.
"WHY???? DON'T YOU KNOW ABOUT MIKE!?!?"
And when he gets there he sees you rubbing the monstrous canine's tummy. Petting him and calling him a "Good Boy."
Names he has called you out of spite: Idiot, Moron, Dummy, Psycho, Airhead, Ditz, and probably Pea Brain
On the bright side, you are Alluka's favorite person.
"Give me your ribs."
"Oh, are you hungry? Let's see if we can't find you a smokehouse for those ribs."
And it baffles both souls so much that Nanika accepts that as fulfilling her command.
Plus you have endless amounts of energy that works to drain both girls out. Even when they've both already swapped twice.
Killua designates you her official babysitter when he's busy.
You are a complete lunatic and moron, but you're one of the people he trusts the most.
Even if he does complain about you a lot.
MASTERLIST
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