#A-Type Plate Film

[capiolumen]

Summer Musings 2023 iPhoneXR Hipstamatic Photography Original Photographers Photographers On Tumblr Lowy Lens, A-Type Plate Film, No Flash

#Hipstamatic #Original Photographers #Photographers On Tumblr #abstract challenge #windows #summer #art #capiolumen #iphone #iphoneXR #iphotography #Lowy Lens #A-Type Plate Film #No Flash

[sweet-as-an-angel]

hello ! i loved ur hcs for ghost x innocent reader sm, what do you think of könig x innocent reader? love ur writing ♡

König w/ an Innocent S/O

Warnings: Implications of Smut, Overprotective König, Rizzed-Out König, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

There is nothing König won’t do for you.

Your overall calm, kind demeanour brings him peace he’s never known before.

And because of that – because he adores you beyond measure – he can get very…protective.

He often treats you as more fragile than you actually are.

Horror film playing in the background while you’re talking ? It’s getting switched off.

A picture of someone exposing a shoulder in a swimsuit catalogue? It’s getting thrown into a fire.

A pair of your own underwear left unattended next to the wash bin? König’s stuffing it into the bottom of the basket.

There comes a point where you have to tell him that, yes, while you may be a little naïve, even a bit oblivious, you’re not stupid.

And, as best he can, König treats you as you want to be treated, which is to say not as if you are a nigh-extinct species of flower.

And, given this new ‘power’ as such – this permission to show you the less rounded edges of life – König begins to have some rather self-serving ideas.

Regardless of if you like horror films or not, König will use it against you.

He’ll test your stomach for terror, putting something frightening on whenever you’re having date night to see if you’ll cling to him.

And if you do, irrespective of whether you fear what’s happening on-screen or not, his soul will ascend.

He can die happy when you hold on to him, nuzzling into his side while quietly asking him to “Hold me, Köni. Please.”

Makes him feel all big and important.

Wear his clothes around him, my God–

First time he saw you in his hoodie – after an impromptu visit from the Rain God made your original outfit unusable – he literally did a double-take.

He dropped the plate he was washing, grasped at it as it slipped between his soap-frothed fingers.

He just punched it into the sink, heard something crack, and turned his attention to you. And only you.

“I– You–” König couldn’t even form a full sentence as you stared at him, half-peeking from behind the door.

“You look…” He racked every file, folder and confine of his mind for anything to describe how he felt right now, how you made him feel.

It just came out as a strangled noise. And, smiling, you hurried into his arms.

You didn’t mind that they were soapy and wet. And neither did König.

Though, the only reason he didn’t was because his brain was so positively fried that he quite literally could think of nothing else except you.

The longer you’ve been dating, the more comfortable König becomes with being rougher with you, shall we say.

It all starts when you start doing things you never did before.

Like letting your hands slip lower beneath his waist, resting on his hips; Sitting on his lap when there are no other spaces available – and then eventually when there are seats available; saying his name like that – “Köni,” when you need help.

“I just can’t do it all by myself. I need someone big and strong to do it for me.”

And, regardless of how sincere you sound when you say it, regardless of how you bat your eyelashes and plump your lips when you look up at him, König is far too whipped to say no.

At first, König genuinely doesn’t think you’re doing it intentionally.

And neither do you, until you see the effect it has on him.

Making his cheeks flush and a pillow find its way to his lap when he sits on the sofa, your head placed precariously close to the growing issue between his legs.

Now, König isn’t the type to go throwing accusations around.

But when he catches you wearing his favourite hoodie, balancing on the edge of the kitchen counter to reach something placed on top of the cabinets (and I don’t mean the top shelf; I mean on TOP of the cabinets – like when you’re hiding a Christmas gift), your underwear peeking just below the hem, he can’t take it.

He knows what you’re doing.

And now that you’ve let onto him, with your doe eyes and your exasperated “Köni, I need you–” he’s gone. Snapped.

Just because you’re “innocent” doesn’t mean you’re exempt from König’s wrath.

To put it plainly, König didn’t seem so shy or frightful of damaging that night as he pinned you to the wall and took you for the first time <3

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

#konig mw2 #konig x reader #konig x y/n #konig x you #konig x yn #könig x reader #konig smut #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig fanfiction #konig headcanons #konig call of duty #konig cod #mw2 #mw2 fanfic #mw2 fluff #cod mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic #mw2 smut #mw2 x reader #mw2 x you #mw2 headcanons #cod x reader

[nochukoo97]

beside you

pairing: idol!jungkook x gf!reader

summary: you miss your boyfriend after not seeing him for a long time, so who could blame you if you couldn’t resist him once you saw him?

warnings/tags: MINORS DNI, dom!jk, sub!oc, established relationship, oc is a little whiny and desperate oops, riding, missionary, oc has an iud but it isn’t mentioned, lots of kissing, jk buys oc a pair of ck underwear 🥹, aftercare, jk calls her pretty girl and baby :((, they miss each other so much, a little i love you moment halfway :))

word count: 2.1k+

beside you; keshi: it’s just you and i, and no other guys, we got no interruptions and we both feelin’ the vibe

You find yourself sitting in a random coffee shop, your mood clouded by a deep sense of longing. Your fingers trace the rim of the coffee cup, the warm ceramic comforting in your hands. Leaning your head against your palm, you release a heavy sigh, your eyes fixated on the half-diluted coffee that you had paid an hefty price for, “I miss my boyfriend,”

Beside you, Chaeyong, your roommate of four years, gives you an amused look. She rolls her eyes playfully and nudges the plate of pastries closer, urging you to take another bite.

Chaeyong's comment brings a pout to your lips. “You say that every time he's out of your sight,” she remarks, her voice tinged with affectionate exasperation.

A small whine of frustration escapes your lips as you respond, “But I was so excited to see him yesterday when he landed in the evening, and I fell asleep! And by the time I woke up this morning, he had left for another schedule.”

Chaeyong tries to console your sullen mood, “But you'll see him later today, right?”

You nod, but it's accompanied by another heavy sigh. The mere thought of having to wait a little longer to be reunited with Jungkook deepens your yearning for him. Your heart aches with the anticipation of the moment when you can finally hold him close and simply spend time with him.

You’ve been separated from Jungkook for a good week or so because of his promotions in America, and as much as you tried to keep an optimistic mindset while living away from your boyfriend, there was a major part of you that simply craved for his presence to be back.

For example, when you ate breakfast in the morning, there was no Jungkook sitting beside you to annoy you with the most random facts he’s learnt, or throughout the day, there was no Jungkook singing random tunes to songs that filled the apartment, and most of all, there was no Jungkook to cuddle up next to you and help you sleep.

Frankly, the dark under eyes clearly showing through your skin is evident of Jungkook’s absence for the past week. It’s been more than rough for you, considering you’ve been spoilt by Jungkook’s cooking that a mere packet of instant noodles can even taste bland.

“Then just text him to see when you can meet,” Chaeyong is a genius, you didn’t think of that.

you: hi baby

you: i miss you :((((((((((

Chaeyong’s been curiously peering at your phone screen, as you type out a message to your boyfriend. A wry grin tugs at your lips, but your amusement quickly turns into a grumble as her scrutinizing eyes zero in on your texting style.

“Yuck, that’s how you text him?” She inquires, her tone mixed with amusement and faux disgust.

“Get a boyfriend and then you’ll understand,” You scoff, retorting at her as you kick her shin from under the table, earning a hiss from your roommate.

jungkook: hi my pretty girl :)

jungkook: miss you too

jungkook: just finished my filming and im done for the day, wanna come over to my studio? 😘

“This is the part where I get abandoned here isn’t it,” Chaeyong deadpans as she reads the text Jungkook had sent back, the text itself already making you light up and gasp in excitement.

“Chaeyong,” You look her directly in the eyes, pleading with your roommate, “You know how much I love you but right now, I need to get to my boyfriend like asap,”

“Fine, fine, go ahead, you better do the same for me when I get a boyfriend,” She rolls her eyes at you, as you quickly spew a string of thank-you-you’re-the-best-in-the-whole-wide-world, before grabbing your bag to drive over to his company building.

-

Breathless and filled with anticipation, you swing the door to Jungkook's studio open, paying no heed to the quiet click of the latch. The space is awash in a soft glow from the artistic lamps scattered across the room. Your heart races as you spot your boyfriend, Jungkook, sitting in the swivel chair in front of his cluttered desk.

Eager and almost stumbling in your haste, you bound towards him, your footsteps echoing throughout the studio. The swivel chair creaks ever so slightly as you launch yourself into his lap, an exclamation escaping your lips.

“Hi, oof-” He huffs when you jump into his lap, arms wrapping around his muscular back as you sigh in relief.

Jungkook smiles at you affectionately, his face illuminated with a soft glow from his monitor that he had been previously focused on, but your sudden arrival was a much better thing to concentrate on at this point.

“Hi pretty girl,” He greets you properly this time, his own arms wrapping around your smaller body as he chuckles at your playful behaviour.

“Did you have fun? You’re all dressed up,” Your boyfriend takes notice of the flowy dress you’re wearing, the light makeup you had put on and how your hair had been parted half up half down. Jungkook thinks you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, the sight of you all dolled up does things to his heart.

“Yeah, me and Chaeyong went to a cafe, but goddamn the coffee was not worth it,” You begin to ramble on about the aesthetic looking cafe, filled with cute little plants and flowers and even a cat, and Jungkook listens attentively, watching your expression switch each time you talk.

“And she helped me take pictures for my Instagram too,” You tell him, arms wrapping around his neck as you touch your nose with his for a split second.

“Yeah? Show me them,” He muses, waiting for you to retrieve your phone from the bag that had been hastily thrown onto his couch in the studio, right before you had launched yourself onto him.

“Later,” A whine pulls from your throat as you inch closer to him, if that was even possible, your legs hanging from either side of his thighs as you straddle his lap, “I missed you so much,”

“Missed you too baby,” He mumbles against your lip as you lean down to kiss him, a little more desperate than usual.

Jungkook bites onto your bottom lip mid-kiss, making you part your lips with a soft gasp in surprise, he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue in, hands reaching to hold the back of your neck.

You feel the heat rushing down, it’s been a week since you had last kissed Jungkook, a week since you’ve been in physical contact with him. At this point you’re so desperate for him you don’t try to hide it, softly grinding against his growing bulge under his jeans, making the man under you groan.

“Such a little minx,” His hands fall down to slip under the hem of your dress, stroking your thighs gently as you whine into the kiss.

“Need you,” You’re panting against his lips, desperate for him to do something, anything, you’ll take anything at this point, “Please,”

“Yeah? Tell me what you want baby,” He squeezes your waist, doing nothing but sitting there with a stupid grin while you rut against him desperately, slick soaking through your panties already.

“Kook,” Another whine escapes your mouth as you shamelessly let out a soft moan when you grind over a particular spot that rubs your sensitive clit. Fuck, you’re about to go crazy from all the teasing he’s doing.

“Tell me pretty girl, use your words,”

“Want to ride you,” You pant some more, head buried into his neck as you gasp when he shuffles a little under you.

You tug at his shirt, signaling for him to remove it as you remove your dress at the same time, exposing the CK underwear set he had bought you recently.

“Fuck, my pretty girl,” Jungkook might just be drooling at the sight in front of him, you’re insane for showing up to his studio and making him so desperate for you.

He slides a finger along your covered slit, hissing when the wet fabric touches his skin. You don’t give him time to comment on anything, crashing your lips back in his as you tug his pants and underwear off, making him do the same for you after.

“Let me stretch you out baby,” He whispers against your ear, hissing when your hand wraps around the base of his cock.

“No, ‘sokay, I just need you now,” Your whining at this point because all you want is Jungkook’s cock buried in your dripping cunt, but he’s been purposefully riling you up and teasing you so much, you’ll take matters into your own hands.

He gives you an amused smile, clearly entertained by this new side of you, desperate for his touch.

You angle his cock towards your slit as you slowly sink down, gasps coming from both of your mouths.

“Fuck- So tight-” Jungkook grits through his teeth, hands finding their way to your bare ass as he gives it a tight squeeze, before reaching back up to unclasp your bra.

You support your weight by pressing your palms against his bare chest, moving upwards before sinking back down on his cock, moans from the both of you sounding throughout his studio, but thank goodness for his soundproof walls, or the both of you would have been caught by now.

“Baby, please, more,” Jungkook coos at you in a whiny state, his own cock throbbing as your hole clenches around it over and over again.

He lifts the both of you up, shoves your bag away before placing you down on the couch, his much larger body now hovering over yours.

“Hnnghh!” A muffled moan emits from you as Jungkook ruts into your soaking pussy, head lowering down to kiss you deeply. Your sensations are all over the place, body sensitive and overstimulated from not having any action for the past week.

“Yeah? Good baby?” He whispers, making you nod in response. Jungkook watches in awe as your eyes roll back at a particular thrust, your hair forming a halo around your head, lips swollen as you take all of him.

“S-So good, so fucking good, I love you-” You’re a mess, stuttering over your words as your boyfriend fucks you into oblivion, his cock thrusting into that sensitive spot inside you that makes your thighs shake in pleasure.

“I love you,” He kisses down the valley of your breasts, thrusts increasing in speed as the both of you reach closer to your climax. Jungkook’s moans get louder, his groans more throaty as his eyebrows furrow.

“So close, so close, please! Hah-” You think you’re drooling right now, he’s hitting all the right spots, making your vision go blurry as you’re overwhelmed with pleasure.

With one particular harsh thrust, he lets out a guttural groan from above you as the both of your climax, his warm seed shooting into your pussy.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” Jungkook’s almost whining as he ruts into you, desperate pants leave his mouth as his thrusts slow down, pulling out, his body collapsing on top of you as he catches his breath.

“Shit, you’re insane,” He pants, head burying into your neck as you giggle at his hair that tickles your skin slightly, “Did so well for me baby, so good,”

“Feel so good, missed you,” You whisper, hands roaming his back as you soothe the scratches from your sharp nails that painted his back.

“And your cock,” You add on, making Jungkook snort above you.

“Couldn’t tell at all baby,” He muses, lifting his head to peck your cheek, then the corner of your lips. “We need to clean up,” He sighs, watching some of his cum slowly drip out, threatening to fall onto his couch.

You let Jungkook get off you, watching as he quickly fetches the wet wipes that he keeps on his desk, gently cleaning you up as he peppers kisses to your stomach.

“Best welcome back present I’ve received to be honest, 10/10,” He teases you as he hands back your clothes, helping you put them back on.

“What about that time when I literally surprised you with a cake?” You nudge his bare shoulder, a faux frown plastered on your face.

“Baby, the cake was half raw, we both had food poisoning for a week after that,” He taunts you, making you gasp dramatically.

“It’s the thought that counts! You try to make a cake from scratch then!”

“Deal, I’ll bake you a cake tonight, watch out, because I’ve been watching a ton of Nailed It!” He tells you, pulling his shirt over his head to put it back on.

Jungkook does indeed bake the best tasting cake you’ve ever eaten in your life, proving your point wrong.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #bts ff #bts #jungkook x you #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios

[sukunasweetheart]

God I’m always the biggest sucker for AUs where Sukuna is Yuji’s older brother and is just smarter and stronger and the reader is Yuji’s lil friend in his friend circle- literally the only one pining for his ripped older brother like 👀👀👀❤️💦💦💦 ‘h-hi’

GAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHSJDNFKSDNKSDNG I LOVE THIS SO MUCH TOOOOOO

theres always something about the older brother of a friend.................................................................................

he will find u so cute and adorable, such a nervous little thing before his eyes,,, sukuna doesnt usually gaf about yuuji's friends and whatnot but you pique his interest....

sorry i got carried away and wrote a whole thing on this oopsies it's very lengthy and wordy...

thinking about the first day you get invited to yuujis house along with megumi and nobara without thinking much of it, only to run into his older brother who turns out to be totally your type

(youre the type of person who develops a crush easily, so much so that no one bats an eye when you tell them that you have a new crush, rip.)

"i thought i told you not to bring your shitty meetings into the house, brat," he tells yuuji coldly, staring down at you and yuuji in the living room.

"awh, shut up! if you can bring your hookups home, i can bring my friends!" sukuna rolls his eyes at him.

"make sure to stay quiet, then. else, i'm kicking all of you out."

all of your friends give side eyes at each other, thinking about what an asshole yuujis older brother is but youre staring at him with puppy eyes, in love at first sight (and he notices it all)

sukuna retreats to his room, and you're already gushing at everyone else about your new crush... all your friends are like 😑

(it's nothing serious at this point, think of it like a fan admiring an idol)

you begin frequenting yuujis house just to get glimpses of him from then on

the four of you are watching a film in the living room, when the snacks run out

you volunteer to grab some more from the kitchen...and there you find sukuna making himself a sandwich...shirtless.

internally screaming, you freeze on the spot for a second before recollecting yourself and focusing on the original objective, to ogle at his bulging muscles- no, that's not it.. to grab more snacks for your friends...

you try to avert your gaze from him as you look for an appropriate bowl to pour the bag of crisps into, but the cupboard! it's too high up!

you try on your tippy toes and manage to touch the bowl, but it's still a struggle...

"you know, you should just ask for help, instead of potentially making more trouble for us."

his body brushes up against you for a second as he grabs the bowl easily. "is this what you want?"

"yes, sorry..." you could erupt into a nosebleed any second now.

"you're welcome."

with a smirk, he walks back into his room with his plateful of sandwiches.

you seemingly float back to the living room with the bowl of snacks in your hands

"i ran into your brother in the kitchen... he was shirtless...." you say with hearts still in your eyes

"what?? and you came back out alive? he hates it when someone comes into the kitchen while hes using it..."

youre giggling and falling into deeper delusions (or is it really?)

one day, you show up at yuujis house bc you and him became partners for a project at uni, but the person who answers the door is not yuuji

"h-hi... is yuuji home?" you ask.

"he's not home right now, sweetie. but you're free to come in if you want."

s-sweetie... you repeat inside your head.

sukuna basically sees your tail wagging behind you. you're so easy, arent you?

you sit on the sofa in the living room, and to your panic, sukuna makes himself comfortable next to you as well, making you tense up

"relax... i won't bite," he tells you with a languid smirk. "or, do you want me to?"

(yes. yes, i want you to.)

the conversation goes back and forth a little bit, and he gets flirtatious but before it escalates, yuuji returns home.

from then on, he gets more and more bold whenever you come over, giving little teasing touches whenever he gets the chance, driving you madd

numbers are exchanged eventually - without your friends knowing.

and then; you receive a text while youre sitting with them one evening, saying "if you're wanting a little more, you can come upstairs to my room."

...you tell your friends youre going to the toilet, and make your way up. giving a soft knock at his door, he opens up and looks down at you with sultry eyes.

(whatever happens in that room? a secret.)

now every time you're over at yuuji's place, sukuna texts you to come pay him a visit. things either end up with you sucking his dick, or just a quickie. (its all very steamy but youre always leave wanting more) ... its so hot to think abt going back to sit with your friends again after he's stuffed you with his load, and pulled your panties back up for you

"you look a bit sweaty, y/n. you okay?"

you tell them it was a tough no. 2 (i mean, what else can you tell them??)

sukuna as well, feels a little... lonely.... whenever you have to make your way back as soon as things are finished

during one afternoon, he overhears you guys talking about your newly found crush-- an older senior upperclassman from uni (getou suguru)

"did you guys see the way he smiled at me? he's so dreamy..."

"do you ever get tired of changing love interests?"

and this upset sukuna more than he expected.

he demands you come up soon after, and intense sex ensues, where he's rougher than usual, possessiveness showing

at one point during it, he asks why you're looking at other men, when you have him... and you tearfully tell him its because you want more than just this, you want to go on dates and be asked out like other girls...

"you could've just asked me. you thought i wouldn't commit?"

sure, you started out as a fun little toy for him, but now he's well aware there's something more going on here...

things get softer and youre left heaving, arms wrapped around sukuna as he looms over your body

"we took too long... they're gonna find out," you tell him.

"let them. why do we need to be a secret, anyway?"

"we don't? i thought that's what you wanted."

"what? when did i-"

(yuuji opens the door)

oh. my. god.

panic and screaming occurs, and the door is slammed shut, leaving you awfully embarrassed, and sukuna just sighing and putting a shirt back on.

"c'mon, sweetheart. we have some explaining to do."

theres a lot of chaos, yuujis face is STILL red and nobara + megumi are horrified, but all ends well bc at least now, you can date sukuna openly, and have your first relationship in peace.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #sukuna #poe answers

[shibaraki]

TO BUILD A HOME ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

synopsis: todoroki shouto is the ideal roommate. he is tidy, quiet, considerate, and one of your dearest friends. you almost wished he were a tactless slob. it would certainly make navigating your feelings for him easier.

tags: GN reader, friends to lovers, pro hero shouto, quirk support engineer reader, living together (and they were roommates!), mutual pining, fluff, alcohol, other character interactions, domesticity, jealous shouto, a little angst, minor oc, love confessions, making out + frottage

wc: 14K+

a/n: I wrote a little bonus sequel for this au about their first date which you can read here !! [+4K]

Shouto’s home strikes a dissonant note with you.

You’re a statuesque centrepiece in his living room, staring out his tall standing windows, paneled wall to wall and making for a beautiful view of the city. There’s a soft shine to it, iridescent from corner to corner. A privacy film to block any view into the apartment from the outside, you’re guessing.

Despite your closeness you’ve never had reason to visit until now. There’s far too much space for one man, you think. Jarringly, it’s as if you’ve stepped into a studio display. A picture perfect bachelor pad— but really, what bachelor pad needed three family sized bedrooms?

It feels awfully lonely.

Shouto heaves the last of your boxes onto the kitchen island with ease. The muscles in his arms flex under his loose shirt, fabric briefly tightening. Unfair, you think. He hasn’t even broken a sweat.

Back straightening, you watch Shouto roll back his shoulder and rub at the joint. The movement causes the hem to lift and flash a pale swath of skin, his shorts hung low on his hips. The weight in your arms is somehow heavier with his eyes turned onto you.

“You can set it down,” he says, his tone full of warm mirth. The disbelief must be written plain on your face. Your fingers tighten on the corners as he walks over. Tilting his head, the red strands that have been haphazardly pushed back into white slip over his forehead. You watch his gaze dart over the label scribbled onto the card that reads ‘toiletries’.

“I know. I’m just…” your jaw shifts and you swallow, a frown etched into your brow. “I don’t know. Got a little lost in my thoughts”.

“Feel free to change whatever you like,” his mouth curls into a small smile, scar wrinkling by his eye. You are taken by just how happy he looks to have you here. Shouto seemed the type to appreciate his own space. “I want you to be comfortable”.

“Whatever I like?” you echo teasingly, shucking the box up in your embrace and bumping his shoulder. “Famous last words. Maybe I’ll decide to renovate your other guest room into a mini workshop”.

Shouto exhales a quiet laugh. The air around him is displaced by an ephemeral wave of heat that seeps through your sweater; it cools back to room temperature as quick as it came.

“I wouldn’t oppose it,” he says, and your breath catches. Reaching to poke at the box, he adds, “Do you want me to help you unpack?”

You begin to shake your head. “No, no. I can do all that, don’t worry,” you demurred nervously.

“It wouldn’t be a problem”.

Memories of all the things you managed to salvage in the wreck flicker across your mind's eye. Mugs and plates, a few clothes, oil stained tools and various other inappropriate things you’d rather die than have him accidentally discover.

But he’s staring at you like a restless puppy. You relent, “Maybe you can put away the kitchen stuff then”.

After Shouto retreats you are left adrift to navigate the narrow corridors. The room he directs you to has the biggest guest bed and it shares a wall with his own room. You shuffle in, processing your surroundings. Your linens are freshly washed, tucked in tight at the corners, and they smell like him.

You lower another box on top of the bed and sit by the headboard. The mattress yields. Admittedly it is much more comfortable than your old bed used to be. Soft, you sink into a foamy embrace, smoothing a hand over the matching pillowcases, then reaching up to the shared accent wall.

Reality has hardly set in for you yet. It’s been four days since you lost your home, most of your earthly possessions along with it, and the life you had spent years building. The villain that managed to frisbee a car through your living room had been apprehended but not before destroying half the city block.

Shouto immediately volunteered his own place. You have been close friends for years now, having met during your second year at UA as a support course student. You’d worked with Yaomomo on redesigning her costume for your portfolio and managed to worm your way into their quaint friend group.

Your initial crush on him all that time ago burgeoned into something you’re too anxious to put a name to. When he first suggested you live with him while the city fixed everything you’d wanted to refuse. So far lack of proximity has been your only saving grace.

But you really had nowhere else suitable to stay. A hotel would be too costly in the long run. Your other friends are scattered across different prefectures and those who are in the city are too far from work.

Shouto practically sparkled when you agreed, plucked right out of a shoujo manga.

You remember this as your fingers curled into a loose fist and gave the wall a quiet knock. All the tension accumulated in your shoulders relaxes at the dull sound. “Atleast it isn’t thin,” you mused.

There’s a large closet adjacent to the bed, deep enough that you could crawl inside comfortably. Windows that stretch above your head and overlook the busy streets. You notice that same iridescent sheen, alongside a large blind connected to the control pad fixed by your doorway. They roll down as you fiddle and remind you of those old school projectors from the pre quirk era.

The walls are almost entirely bare. Your imagination drifts to the countless books and photo albums you managed to bring, envisioning them taking up the empty space. It makes you wonder what Shouto’s room looks like. You squash that thought.

When you rejoin him he stands with his back to you, blades shifting under the material as he plays with a small round object held between his fingers. Closing the distance you realise it is one of your stress balls.

His expression is entirely relaxed, bright with a little child-like satisfaction. He pulls at the flexible rubber, rolling it under his thumbs, flattening in between his palms. Your novelty mugs are lined up in the open cupboard right beside his own, entirely forgotten.

As not to startle him you call out gently, “Hey”.

Your voice stalls his movement. Shouto pivots and meets your eyes; they widen as you laugh, amused by his forced nonchalance. He clears his throat, “Hi. Are you happy with the room?”

Humming an affirmative, you sidle up next to him and poke at the ball. “It’s fine, thank you. Nicer than my old place”.

Redirecting his attention to the ball, he squeezes it so hard the foamy rubber protrudes through the gaps in his fingers and lets go, smiling as it retains its original shape. “I liked your old apartment,” he murmurs. “It suited you”.

“Because I’m a mess, you mean?” drawn back into Shouto’s orbit, you lean against his left side. He mirrors your weight until you are like two pillars braced against one another, standing uselessly in the middle of his obviously unused kitchen. Your heart aches recalling all those nights he spent at the agency doing unnecessary overtime. Maybe he just hadn’t wanted to come back here.

“No,” Shouto huffs lightly, passing the ball hand to hand. He doesn’t elaborate. Instead he bumps you with his hip, “Come with me. I’ll give you a tour so you know where everything is”.

You are guided back to the genkan; it’s gorgeous, modernised with a calligraphy feature wall that breaks up the light colours. There is a narrow door leading to a coat room and two white cabinets under a granite countertop housing a small decorative bowl painted in Deku’s colours. Inside are your keys and his, the chains entangled.

Very quickly you realise Shouto doesn’t even know where ‘everything’ is. He opens the cupboard doors hesitantly, in a way that suggests he had no idea what is in them. One filled by his shoes and slippers, the other left empty.

The coat closet holds a few jackets you only ever see him wear in winter. He pinches the waterproof puffy sleeve between finger and thumb with a curious sound. Quietly, “I forgot that I had this”.

“You wore it once and Bakugo said you looked like an ugly toasted marshmallow”.

“That’s right,” a smirk pulls at his lips, mouth thin to restrain his laughter. You dip your chin to hide how infectious it is. “He hated it. Maybe I should take it with me tomorrow and wear it around the agency”.

“Please don’t. He’s coming to see me later in the day and I need him in a good mood”.

Shouto glances at you from the corner of his eye, sunlight reflecting through the blue iris. You would recognise that air of mischief anywhere. “I mean it, Shouto!”

“The day after, then”.

“As long as I’m not in the line of fire,” you snort, itching absentmindedly at your forearm where the skin feels tender. Probably bruising after carrying everything up. “Antagonising Pro Heroes should be listed as a hobby on your wiki page”.

You fall in line with his footsteps once more and keep pace until he stops by another door. There’s a laundry room and a separate toilet by the genkan, first door to the right. Upon opening the door the white toilet lid lifts.

You gasp and clutch his bicep, far too excitable to register how firm it is. “You never told me you have a happy toilet. What the hell, Shouto?”

Still nestled in his palm, you notice Shouto squeezes the stress ball until the foam is straining under the stretchy skin but you say nothing of it. He swallows and echoes your words, “A happy toilet?”

“Yeah, ‘cause it's happy to see you! Isn’t it cute?”

He turns with his cheek between his teeth, exhaling a warm puff of air through his nose. “Yeah,” Shouto rasps. “It’s cute”.

The entrance leads to a hallway, opening at the end to an open plan living area and kitchen. A black and white palette, dark stained wood flooring from room to room. You stand by and watch fondly as he opens every half empty drawer. The sectional couch is a welcome splash of colour— deep royal blue, huge, L shaped and plush, facing a 60 inch TV held up by a cabinet with a few books and photographs inside.

You toe at the fluffy grey rug laid out under the coffee table. His place is spectacular, sure, but it isn’t Shouto. While left unspoken it seemed you both knew that. There’s an abashed pinch to his expression that’s endearing, yet sad; you thought he might be embarrassed by how threadbare his home life appeared to be.

“You ever use that thing?” you ask, pointing to the TV. Predictably, Shouto shakes his head.

“Not very much. These days it feels like I only come here to sleep,” he leans over to pick up the remote from between the cushions and balances it on the arm of the couch. “Every few months Uraraka and Midoriya will visit to order food and watch movies with me. You can use it whenever you want”.

The bathroom is opposite your bedroom doors. He taps his own in passing but does not open it. You step into a bright, white tiled room with a double vanity sink and murmur in awe. Above are ceiling lights that give a soft glow, giving it a warm toned hue. Behind a glass door is a bowl shaped bathtub, big enough to fit two.

“Damn…” you whisper, running your fingers over the control pad connected to the tub. There’s a big bath cover propped by the wall. “A sauna button, too?”

“Not that I need it,” he muses, standing by the doorway, hands loosely interlocked as he observes you navigating his space. Intuitively, you get the sense that this is the beginning of a true paradigm shift. His offer had been the fork in the road and your agreement took you down a path soon to be irreversible.

You could survive seeing him at work or out with the mutual friends you shared. You’re not sure how you’ll weather the domesticity that comes with living together.

The reflection in the mirror shifts awkwardly and you grimace at how hard you’re trying to act like a normal human being. This is just Shouto: your good friend and longtime supporter. Just the man you might possibly be in love with.

“We should probably talk about ground rules and stuff,” you begin, hoping it’ll wipe that gentle look off his face before you say something stupid.

“Ground rules?” Shouto pushes off from the door frame with his back straight. He tilts his head, sight following you closely as you scoot past him back into the hallway.

“Like a chore rota and stuff. Rules so we can live in harmony or something. And you still need to let me know how much I’m paying you”.

“But I don’t want you to”.

You pause mid step and turn to stare at him in soft incredulity. “Why not? It’s only right I contribute”.

Steadfast, he holds your gaze and bluntly says, “I have a higher income than you. There’s no need for you to pay me rent”.

“Way to rub it in”.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you laugh at the rare wobble to his voice and knock your hands together as a sign of forgiveness. His eyes squint into a smile. “It just feels unfair for me to ask that of you”.

The hallway falls dim as clouds gather, casting shadows that make the private bubble you’re in seem that much smaller. “But I want to,” you reassured him. “Come on— forty percent?”

“Thirty”.

You hold out three fingers up on the right and five on the left. You try again, “Thirty five?”

“Thirty,” he doubles down, covering the entirety of your left hand with his own. You feel his thumb skim your inner wrist and your resolve breaks.

“…Fine”.

Shouto grins boyishly and you do not acknowledge the flutter in your stomach.

The first few days are cautious despite your desire to behave as normal. At night you found yourself acutely aware of Shouto’s presence behind the bedroom wall. Your senses latched onto every muted bump and creak; the quiet drew thoughts you so valiantly avoided the surface and you could do nothing besides parse through them.

It made sleeping difficult.

You’d wondered if Shouto was having the same issue but the drowsy gait and hair plastered to one side of his head only ever spoke of a good night's rest. He wears loose silk pyjama pants to bed, low on his hips and an inch or so longer at the leg so they always caught under his heel as he walked.

Seeing him relaxed and fumbling like a fawn before his morning tea felt as if a big star was fizzing in your chest. It’s strange, in a tentative way, not an uncomfortable one.

The dust settles and a chore rota is scribbled out on a white board and pinned to the refrigerator with a worn All Might magnet. Your hours are less hectic so you offered to do the weekly shopping. Shouto volunteers for the laundry— his sister set the machines up for him when he first moved and he hasn’t moved the dials since— and taking out the garbage. Together you build a precariously clumsy peace, a mimicry of home.

Things started to change.

A kaleidoscope can take on an entirely new pattern with just the subtle turn of the lense. Weeks lapse. You stopped asking for permission and he no longer sought reassurance that you were happy. Existing parallel to one another, your lives fit seamlessly, though not without effort.

You’ve never known him to be a tactile type of guy— back when you rushed to hug him at graduation he’d brandished his diploma like a weapon before noticing it was you. Now, Shouto playfully hip checks you in the kitchen, he sits closer than he needs to on the couch and texts you at random throughout the day. He brings you a treat if his route overlaps your commute, keeping it hot in his left hand. He even greets you by the door on the rare occasion he finishes a shift first.

Your heart is fatter than ever and you aren’t quite sure what to do with it or where to put it down. After the city has rebuilt your apartment block and deemed it safe you’ll be returning to a normal you don’t recognise anymore.

You’re finalising the upgrade for Dynamite’s summer gauntlets when your phone buzzes on your bench. The vibration carries it closer to the edge and you scoop it up before the inevitable fall, cursing at the oil smeared around the case. The screen lights up.

shouto : 1 minute ago

There’s an image attached with no explanation. You are met with the open skyline, dense clouds of every shape and size dotted across a blue canvas. Shouto’s arm is in the shot, finger pointed towards one cloud in particular.

You squint at it. Zoom in on your phone, tilt it to the side, flip it in the editor and outline it— and nothing rings a bell. It’s a white blob. 

Another notification drops down at the top of your screen. You wipe your hand against your overalls and open it. 

shouto : just now 

ヾ(=^・ｪ・^)

Your nose wrinkles as you glance back to the photo. Granted, it does have two pointed edges that could be interpreted as cat ears if you squinted. Maybe. This isn’t new — he burned his toast three days ago and took a picture simply because it looked vaguely feline. 

you : delivered 

aren’t u supposed to be on patrol? 

The message turns to ‘read’ quicker than expected. You panic and click off the conversation, setting the phone face up on your workbench and reading from your locked screen. Lately, despite living together and seeing one another every day, Shouto seems to have more to say to you than ever. 

shouto : just now

Divine intervention. We should get a cat. 

The use of ‘we’ pings around your head like a pinball. Ever since the initial dubitation smoothed out he's become much more flippant about things— treating your situation as though it were permanent. 

An intern shuffles into the workshop with a thick binder. Not one of yours, you realise. One of Mei’s. They blink curiously as your phone buzzes again, loud where it clatters on the hard surface, and you bite down on your inner cheek, hard, keeping your feelings at bay. 

When handed the papers you breathe in recognition. They’ve been coordinated into two groups, and you’d know that logo anywhere. “The costume applications for the upcoming UA students! I wondered why they hadn’t come in yet”. 

“Yes, for 1A and 1B. Hatsume-san said these ended up on her desk,” they said, gesticulating nervously, “and that I— I should give them to you?”

“Well If not for you I’m sure these would’ve ended up buried under all her discarded prototypes,” you demurred, offering what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “Thank you”. 

Abruptly, your phone gives another violent jerk and disrupts the moment. The intern squeaks, rigidity returning to her posture, and scurries out with a rushed goodbye. You sink into your arms, forehead pressed to the cool metal. Surely you aren’t that scary.

Turning the screen, you read the texts and sigh fondly.  

shouto : 4 minutes ago

An older cat would be nice. 

shouto : just now

Should we order tonight? 

My treat. 

Your gaze lifts to find the time at the top of the screen. It blinks back at you, the hour changing. Not long until you can head out. 

you : delivered 

it isn’t a treat for me if it’s more cold soba. give me variety or give me death (งಠ_ಠ)ง

The cursor flickers. Your thumb hovers over the keyboard, hesitating on the final letter. Something so minor that feels bigger than it has any right to be. 

“Stop being ridiculous,” you mutter, sending it before your mind can change. 

you : read 

be safe ok? I’ll see you at home. 

When he doesn’t reply you figure he’s returned to his job, thus you return to yours. 

Dynamite was once again trusting you with his gear. Bakugo had been extraordinarily protective over his initial design in highschool. Great bulbous things strapped to each wrist, grenade-like appearance, so big that his arms became pendulous and swung away from his body as he walked. The shoulder strain was immense. 

You fought tooth and nail to get him to accept your adjustments. Now every summer you remodelled the gauntlets to be lighter and ventilated, and in winter you added in insulation and flexibility. 

Respectively, the gauntlets still weigh a lot without additional stored nitroglycerin. You lift, bending at the knees and groaning as you lower them both down into a protective case, slotting into foam padding for protection. No doubt they’d end up rough on the first day but you still wanted them to arrive without a scratch. 

Evening draws near. Closing the lid, it gives a satisfying click. You fiddle with the lock pad and calibrate it to open only for Bakugo’s thumb print before lugging the case to the built-in vault in your workshop, where it’ll be kept over the weekend. 

Mei’s lab is directly opposite your own. Despite the dense soundproofing and reinforced steel concrete the jarring screech of a saw echoes throughout the hallway. You press your hand to the towering door, muscle fibres wracked by vibrations. Bidding her goodbye would be futile— she’s been working on a new patent for months now. The rest of the world fell away when she got like this. 

Heading through to the main lobby, you greet those passing by with a nod, exchanging hurried words. It was always as though time didn’t exist here. People worked all hours, any hours. Flexibility was a point of pride for your company, and seeing someone eat breakfast after midnight wasn’t uncommon. 

You preferred a regular schedule. Routine keeps you moderately sane. A cool breeze gusts through the sliding doors as you duck into the street; you hiss at the immediate change in temperature. Patting down your coat pockets you dig out your phone, sending a one-handed text to Shouto while you slip in your earbuds. 

Cacophonous bustling of the streets now muffled, you scroll through a playlist and click at random. An upbeat melody carries you to the station, scooting through the throngs of people and tapping your card at the barriers. 

You pick up the pace, scurrying onto the train right before the doors close. A stranger glares, looking over your dishevelled state with judgement. You find a narrow corner, left standing on the far end of the carriage, squashed up against the window to make room for other passengers. 

Conscious about the volume. you turned down your music a tad and sank into the confines of your coat. Shouto’s apartment is miraculously closer than your old one, meaning the commute is much shorter, and your time spent in bed is much longer. Three stops pass and the sky begins to bruise. Purple hues blend gently into red, the sun a fiery hearth on the seam of the horizon that blinks abruptly between the passing buildings. 

When you reach home Shouto still hasn’t texted back. You bend to arrange your shoes, coat hung beside his terrible winter puffer. The floor is cold under socked feet, pottering through to the living room in search of the TV remote. 

You flinch as the newscaster's voice blurts out of the speakers. Shouto must have left it on the news channel this morning. Watching the scene unfold on the screen you feel your heart climb your throat. 

Shouto is a hero— a number of your friends are. Villain fights are not only inevitable, they’re a requirement. The truth of it doesn’t make reality any easier to swallow. Uravity is a welcome sight. She’s fighting diligently alongside Shouto, up against multiple villains seemingly working in tandem to destroy the area. 

You always thought villains were a good example of how versatile and powerful even the most innocuous quirks can be. Topspin can morph their limbs into a whirling top, and with years of training has gained the ability to form small tornados using momentum. Another you recognise is Cryo, a woman capable of making her body intangible similarly to Lemillion— though she is able to freeze you temporarily if she phases through your body. 

There are others, too. Criminals you don’t recognise. It’s been a long time since a big group tried to organise in this manner. You worry at your lip, bracing against the back of the couch for support. What you find most concerning is they don’t seem to have a goal. Just mass destruction, plain and simple. 

“Come on,” you think anxiously, nails digging into the cushion as you watch Shouto brace a falling building with his ice, creating an emergency slide for those left inside to escape. You’ve always marvelled at his parallel processing skills— Deku, too. Their thoughts must be running a million miles a second. 

The cameras switch to highlight the other heroes and you realise you’ve been holding your breath. You exhale, physically deflating, feeling the weight of your phone in your pants pocket. Clean up would take a while once the battle is won; curry night is off the table. 

That’s fine. You could forgive it as long as he came back in one piece. 

Evening sinks into night. Shouto comes home after you’ve retired to your bed, though you aren’t asleep yet; you took to staring at the ceiling, waiting for a call from the hospital that you hoped wouldn’t come. 

The distant sound of his boots hitting the floor has relief flooding through your system. You strain to listen as he makes his way through the apartment, deliberately quiet. You hear him head straight to the bathroom. The echo of running water muffles after the door closes with a soft click. 

You check your phone once more, scanning over the recent updates and not finding much. You consider leaving him alone. Villain fights are hard on the body and the heart. Shouto likes space to process things before he speaks on them, and so you don't want to overstep. 

That sentiment dissipates steadily. Five minute intervals that feel like hours. Shouto is in the bathroom for a long, long time. You are seated on the edge of your bed with the covers pulled back when he finally comes out. 

Warm light streams beneath your doorway. Muscles clenched, you daren’t move an inch as a stretch of shadow moves across. Shouto stands outside your room and you stare, silently urging him to knock and give you an excuse. 

After a beat, Shouto turns away. He flicks off the bathroom light and shuffles down the hallway, away from his own bedroom. Your feet tentatively touch the floor and you slide off the bed with hands held out, careful not to knock into any furniture on the way. 

Goose pimples raise across your forearms. You’re in sleep shorts and a ratty old shirt on a cool spring night. No wind and no clouds, the moon hung high and bright. You have never seen the city so eerily still at this hour. 

The air always retains the warmth of his body for a while, and you feel it lingering when you step into the hallway. 

Voice kept to a whisper, you softly called for him, “Shouto?” 

You find him sitting in the middle of the couch. The blinds are up, moonlight flooding in. Shouto is a solid silhouette outlined in white. 

“Did something happen?” 

The fight ended up dragging on for a while, so you’re in the dark. Details about casualties were steadily being released to news outlets as the heroes dug through the remaining rubble. You’ve yet to hear of any deaths, civilian or otherwise, which is a relief. 

He lifts his head, “I’m fine. Sorry if I woke you”. 

“You didn’t,” Shouto’s gaze follows as you shuffle towards him, footfalls loud on the hardwood floor. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

The silence is suffocating. Your vision adjusts to the darkness, stuck on the downturn of his mouth and pallid eyes. “We’re friends right? Friends share their burdens,” you try again, awkwardness leaking out with every syllable. “I’m here for you”. 

He looks away. There’s a dark, disquieting bruise blooming on his jaw. Subconsciously, Shouto presses a finger onto the bruise and the blood beneath it recedes, paling and returning like the tide. 

You don’t sit too close— worried proximity might be suffocating. The couch arm is firm under you, feet propped on the seat cushion. Shouto wets his lips, as if to alleviate the gravity of his words. 

“A group of school children were in the theatre when it collapsed,” he rasps. His hand curls into a tight fist, sparks of fire diminishing between his knuckles. “They were young. No older than ten”. 

“You blame yourself”. 

Turning to you, light casts softly across half of his face, pooling in his left eye. “I was a second too late and now—” he stops, the words caught in his throat. 

“Because of my mistakes those children are stuck with the traumatic memory of being trapped under all that rubble. I... I could hear them screaming”. 

You gulp and slide down onto the couch, guided by the urge to touch him, “Hey. But you got them out safely, yeah? They’re okay, Shouto”. 

His eyes crinkle a bit, if only a trick of your own, and you take it as permission to reach over. One by one you unfurl each finger, massaging your thumbs into his palm to smooth away the crescent marks. 

“We got them out,” he amends quietly, taking a brief pause to find the right words. You spend it appreciating the nicks in his skin, scars and rough edges, proof of his tenacity.

Shouto closes his hand around your own, staring dolefully at the point where your bodies meet. You see it for what it is— a request for comfort — and your palms kiss as you realign your fingers, holding on tight. 

“You know what I think?” 

He hums, curiously peering up through his damp bangs. 

“Those kids? They won’t just remember the bad stuff,” you smile, as tender as you feel, “I think they’ll remember how at ease they felt when Hero Shouto opened the way with his ice to save them. And now they know a hero will always come”. 

The strain bleeds from his bones and his expression opens up in quiet wonderment. “Really?” he asks, his voice small, mouth finally curling. Your heart gives a squeeze. 

“Really,” you affirm, knocking your knees together. Shouto’s smile widens, chin tucking to hide it. “Are you hurt anywhere?” 

“No. Just bruised up,” he says. An idea clicks into place. 

“Good. I’ve got something we can do to make you feel better,” you scramble to your feet, weight shifting as Shouto’s stare lingers on your bare legs. It feels as though the moon is casting a spotlight, and you resist the urge to pull your shorts down. 

“What is it?” 

“Mug cake!” you exclaim happily, bringing your hands together. Adding an afterthought, “and a movie, too. One you haven’t seen yet”. 

Shouto tilts his head, amused, but stands with you all the same. You notice then that he's changed into a pair of sweatpants, cuffed at the ankles. The t-shirt he’s wearing has a Pinky logo branded across his chest in bubble font. 

“Mug cake?” he repeats. 

“Cake in a mug,” you ribbed, poking at him. You start toward the kitchen. “Come on, it’ll only take like five minutes, tops!” 

“Do we have cake ingredients?” he muses, following close behind. You flick on the recessed light over the stove and root through the cupboards, trying to ignore the natural warmth of his body beside yours. 

“We have everything,” you insist. “I would know. I do the shopping, remember?” 

Hovering unnecessarily close by, Shouto leans back against the counter and observes you with fondness as you list off the ingredients under your breath. It shouldn’t be so magnetising— you can feel something in your chest being drawn in, as though you were two unlike poles meant to come together. 

Meeting his gaze, you look away and try to tame your giddiness. “Quit staring and find me two big mugs”. 

You breathe a little easier when he does as you ask. Two large ceramic mugs are placed on the counter— a hideously priced vintage All Might mug gifted by Midoriya, another with cat ears on the rim and a tail curled into the handle. 

“Will these do?” he murmurs. You startle at the closeness of his voice, nearly dropping the teaspoon in your hand. 

“Yeah,” you clear your throat. “Yep. Thank you”.

He nods, satisfied. “Tell me what else to do”. 

You grab another teaspoon and hand it to him. The joy in his eyes gleams, so pleased at the opportunity to help. “First we need to put four teaspoons of flour and caster sugar in our mugs, then add two teaspoons of the cocoa powder. You follow?” 

Shouto mirrors each action, always glancing back to your movements to check he was doing so correctly. It is unbearably endearing. 

“Now we add an egg in each— one sec,” the fridge light bursts through the dimly lit kitchen, and you squint, grabbing two eggs from the tray. You give him an egg. “Now crack it into the mug and stir”. 

You’ve ended up with the All Might mug. Using it is nerve wracking; all you can think of is how expensive it was, but the cat mug is Shouto’s clear favourite. Gently, you tap the egg on the counter. A hairline fracture forms on the shell. You push your thumbs in, prying it apart over the mix, letting the whites drizzle. 

Shouto is… faring well enough. There’s clear viscous liquid all over his fingers, and his shell is broken in three, but the yolk made it in. 

You laugh quietly at his sheepish expression as you pass him some tissue. He wipes his hands, leaning to observe while you add three teaspoons of milk and vegetable oil. “Where did you learn to make these?” 

“During my apprenticeship,” you admit. Graduation hadn’t led to immediate incredible offers like it had for Shouto. You needed to get your foot in the door first, which meant working awful hours with shit pay and little recognition. “I was trying to save up back then, so I ate a lot of crap like this”. 

“I’ve never tried it,” he says, repeating the steps as you had shown him. Your fingers brush with a pass of the milk. “I wasn’t allowed treats as a child so I guess I didn’t develop much of a sweet tooth”. 

“That’s just like you,” you grin, tearing open the bag of chocolate chips and shaking them in his direction. “Always gotta drop depressing lore in the middle of a nice moment”. 

The truth about the Todoroki family had been outed during your first year, right before the war. It’s a subject Shouto can joke about now that time has mostly healed over those wounds. Granted, his relationship with his father was cautious at best, and his older brother was locked away in a private facility for a good few decades, but things were better. 

“Did you hear me?”

You blink, startled out of your reverie, “What?”

“I said I have plenty more material but you zoned out,” Shouto raised a brow, dipping into the bag of chocolate chips and sprinkling them over his cake mix, “Where did you go?”

“Ah…” you take his mug and set it beside yours inside the microwave, turning the dial to the two minute mark. “I was just thinking I kinda want to kick your dad’s ass”. 

Your heart leaps. You will never be sick of Shouto’s laugh; it’s like hearing his soul. The sound is rich and warm over the loud hum, glass plate turning, mixture bubbling. 

“Don’t worry about that,” the laughter tapers off into an affectionate murmur, body naturally leaning into you, “he’s been kicking himself for years now”. 

“Good—!” the microwave pings, and your soul jumps out of your skin. “Jesus. Why is it always so much louder at night?” 

The mugs are still hot. You press a kiss to your stinging fingertips and step aside; Shouto takes each cake out one at a time with this left hand wrapped around the mug. “Show off,” you pout. 

A sweet aroma fills your senses. They’ve risen well. You lightly scratch the top with your spoon, pleased by the firmness. “We did pretty good,” you chirped. 

“Smells good,” Shouto notes, cradling his mugcake to his chest as though something precious. “Are we watching a movie?”

“Yeah. Let’s pick while it’s still hot”. 

You cast a fleeting look at the counter before you walk around the kitchen island, putting the minor mess to the back of your mind. Bouncing back onto the couch, you run your free hand down the cushions in search of the remote. 

“Where’s the—” Shouto sits to your right and passes it to you. “Did you pull that out of thin air?” 

“Yes. I have a third quirk called ‘remembering where I put things’,” he grins, dodging the half hearted swat you send his way.  

“You’re a real comedian. Just for that I’m picking what I want to watch”. 

Infuriatingly, Shouto looks happy about that, “You know what I’d like anyway”. 

In the end you choose Ponyo because he had not yet watched it— a fact you deemed criminal. You watch his expressions soften at the vibrant scenery, idly pushing the tip of his spoon into the cake. He scoops out a piece and brings it to his lips. 

You try not to beam when he visibly freezes, eyes widening with his spoon held in his mouth. Slowly, Shouto starts to chew. He makes a happy little hum. Three words crossed your mind, travelled down to your heart and diffused throughout your body. You feel them restless in the tips of your fingers. You don’t say them. 

Only then do you let yourself eat yours. The spoon sinks into the sponge, a faint waft of heat bursting from the centre where the chocolate chips have melted. It’s just the right side of fluffy. 

Comfortable silence hung over your heads, masked under the clinking of your spoons against the mugs. 

After the soft thud of an empty mug meeting the table, breaking through the quiet, Shouto speaks. 

“Bakugo mentioned you today,” he says. “Asked me to pass on a message”. 

You hum to indicate that you’re listening. “He said ‘hurry the fuck up or kiss my sponsorship goodbye’, verbatim”. 

“I’m not sure I like those words coming out of your mouth,” you laugh, shoulders shaking with it. Shouto tips his head back, lips twisted to hold laughter of his own. “What a bullshitter”. 

Bakugo liked working with you too much to pull out. Even if he didn’t, the man was a hard nut to crack and refused to trust anyone else with his gear. 

“Are you almost done? Working on his gauntlets, I mean”. 

“They’re finished,” you responded, cheek resting on the heel of your hand. Shouto repositions his hips, turning his body to face you in your periphery while you watch Sousuke and Ponyo eat ramen. “Good and ready for the summer. Now he won’t level half the city when he sneezes”. 

“Thank you for your hard work,” comes his mirthful reply. “Oh, and Uraraka says hello. She wants you to go to the get together tomorrow night”. 

“You know I haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about, right?” 

He huffed a laugh through his nose. A soft sound that has satisfaction singing through your veins. “I wasn’t planning on going so I forgot to mention it”. 

You run your tongue along your molars. There’s still a lingering chocolate taste. “You aren’t going to go?” you ask, tone trended downwards, plainly implying your disappointment. It wouldn’t be so odd. While you’d befriended Momo and some of class B before ever meeting Shouto, you’re not sure you want to be there without him. 

“I will go if you do,” he eyes the way your shoulders relax at that, attentive to a fault. “They can pick on you instead of me”. 

You roll your eyes with exasperated affection and arms crossed over your middle. “Tomorrow?” mhm. “Is it at that place Denki likes?” mhm. “Thought it might be. Guess I can be your buffer for a few hours”. 

“I’ll let them know,” Shouto murmurs. Colour dances across his skin, shadows moving with the picture on the screen. Ponyo dunks her head into the depths alongside Sosuke and the room is suddenly awash with vibrant blue, and you witness an unwelcome epiphany cross his mind. 

Stated like a huffy accusation, he says, “You know, you’ve worked on most of my friends gear, but never mine”. 

“You never asked,” you reminded him. “And you had connections in my industry already because of your… Endeavor. But I would’a jumped at the chance to get rid of that first costume you designed”. 

Cheek pressed to the cushion, he smiles. “What, was the glacier too much?” 

“It was so ugly Shouto,” you bemoan, leaning closer with your dramatic outburst. “The worst part was it covered up half of your pretty face. Now that’s just bad for branding”.

A soft intake of breath. Shouto’s lips part and you are caught in his awestruck stare. His voice deepens as he asks, “You think I’m… pretty?” 

You swallow and muster up an easy grin, nudging his thigh with your foot. “Everyone thinks you’re pretty, you goof”. 

His eyes lower, pensive for a moment, and then flicker back to the movie. Ponyo is sleepy, and the boat has shrunk, and Sousuke has big tears rolling down his cheeks. 

You can’t help thinking it was the wrong thing to say. 

Eventually the noise settles into static; the kind that makes the shadows seem a little darker, dense branches spreading across the ceilings and walls into a daunting canopy. You burrow into your hoodie, pulling the collar up over the bridge of your nose as Sosuke and Ponyo are reunited with his mother in a vast underwater paradise. 

The earlier exchange weighs on you. Stealing a quick glance at Shouto, you feel your anxiety chip at the expression on his face. Somewhere there, beneath the scar tissue and laughter lines and eye bags, is a small boy watching in awe. 

Neither of you speak until the film comes to an end. Your head bobs along to the final song, drawn into a bubble of nostalgia. Through the thick of it, you hear a whisper. Shouto says your name and there’s barely any strength behind it, uncharacteristically timid. Blinking away the haze, your eyes adjust. You can see an inviting, wide open embrace, his left arm now outstretched, the intention clear. 

Shouto looks right back. Your vision has sharpened enough to make out the small smile on his face. You crawl across the couch cushions and curl under his arm, turning your cheek to watch the credits play out.  

“You looked cold,” he belatedly adds. “Is this ok?”

You hum in agreement. Compared to his body heat, you’d say it had been freezing. Despite all the hard earned muscle over the years Shouto is pliable when he’s relaxed, doughy, and he yields when you begin to adjust your shared position. 

Swallowed by warmth, you guide his arm down to cinch around your waist and nestle against his chest. You can feel his heart beating like a wing beneath your palm. 

“Better?” he murmurs, breath tickling your ear. A final shiver dances the length of your spine as the faint tremors dwindle and your bones thaw. Fatigue creeps up, making your eyelids heavy. 

Quietly, “Better”. Then you mumble, “And I do think you’re pretty, Shouto”. 

“Hm?”

“Was bein’ a bit of a coward earlier,” you continue, a sleepy drawl to your words. A yawn pulls at your jaw, nose flaring with it. You think you could sink right into him, like a hot bath. “Shouto’s pretty… all… all the time…”

Your weary eyes gave in to the rhythmic stroke of his hand, consciousness drifting away. Soft dreams undulate, drawing you in, pushing you out. There’s a familiar face. They turn into your palms when you cradle them. Your stomach clenches at the sudden weightlessness and you grasp at their shirt, worried you might float away. 

When you wake up you are in your own bed again. It returns to you in fragments— Shouto’s arms around you, his rumbling laugh, the tangible intimacy that had hung over your heads. Realising he must have carried you to bed you turn over to groan into your pillow. 

Eventually, what draws you out into the open is the smell. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you pad out into the living room, searching for Shouto. Leggings, your mind whispers. He’s milling about the kitchen in his workout clothes; a little pair of shorts overtop and a green hoodie. 

“Morning,” he says, placing a small plate onto a tray. You notice two bowls have already been prepared. “I made breakfast”. 

The greeting dies in your throat when he looks up. A stream of dewy morning light illuminates the room, reflecting on the pale surfaces, creating an ethereal view. He combs his hair back with his fingers, tucking the longer strands behind his ears. Your gaze strays from the bruise on his jaw— now turning a sickly shade of green— to the food on his tray. 

“Wow,” you mumble, feeling hunger twist in your stomach. “This actually looks edible. What’s the occasion?” 

It’s a traditional breakfast. A bowl of rice, miso soup with some vegetables, a rolled egg and a plate of grilled fish. Shouto sets a pair of chopsticks down. “No special occasion. I just wanted to cook for you”. 

“God. You are so…” you wave your hands at him, too overwhelmed by the sudden flush of tenderness. 

He blinks, a twinkle of mirth in his eyes. “You just gestured to all of me”. 

“I just woke up and there’s a prince using my shitty old rice cooker. Forgive me,” you remarked groggily. It feels as if your entire being is a soft spot that he won’t stop prodding at. 

Gathering the tray in your grasp you avoid his stare and make way to the dining table, his quiet chuckle close behind. You sit, unnerved by his presence and fighting off dregs of sleep. The seat is cold under your thighs. “Thank you for the food,” you murmur. 

Chopsticks tucked in the crook of your thumb and finger, you pick up a rolled omelette. The egg tastes sweeter than expected— mixed with more sugar than required, you think, but it’s good, and you finish in the next bite. 

“Are you not leaving for work?”

Shouto hovers across from you; his hands rested on the back of another chair, and stood silently. “How is it?” he deflects. 

Your teeth sink into a tofu cube, umami flavours bursting on your tongue. You hum your approval, making a show of it. “It’s delicious. Thank you, Shouto. Really”. 

Over the years you’ve come to learn that Shouto reacts to praise in subtle ways, and often smiles without his mouth. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice and see it in his spirited stride. You watch as his shoulders straighten. He’s alight, peacocking his pride, and you’re not sure he realises it. 

“There’s a secret ingredient”. 

You pause mid chew, swallowing thickly. “If you say love I’m moving out”. 

Shouto tempers his amusement with a shake of his head. Stray hair falls forward to frame his cheeks.  The chair reclines back on two legs as he leans. “My mother told me that making a meal for someone is a simple way to show gratitude,” he continued. “Thank you for taking care of me last night”. 

Heat simmers under your skin, all buzzing energy and jitters. The sincerity is disarming. Had this been a dream you would’ve kissed him. 

Shoving another tofu cube in your mouth you chew it down to fine paste, vying for time to formulate a coherent sentence. “Don’t thank me for that,” your initial playfulness softened to reciprocate some of his vulnerability. “I know I’m not a hero but I’ll always be there for you in whatever way I can”. 

Whatever his response is, you don’t hear it. Shouto murmurs inaudibly, eyes falling closed with a long exhale. Your only respite is the warmth in his gaze when he looks back at you. “I need to leave now if I don’t want to be late. But I’ll see you tonight?”

You hum an affirmative, nodding around the white rice pinched between your chopsticks. It falls apart gently on your tongue. Covering your mouth, you say, “I’ll be there”.  

Shouto steps away with some finality, readjusting the hem of his shirt. The fabric hangs loose around his hips, emphasising how tight his shorts are. You mentally kick yourself. 

“I’ll text you, then”. 

The day passes frustratingly slowly after Shouto leaves. You technically could be sifting through the new student’s designs, but all you can think about is how charged the atmosphere had been this morning. Retiring back to your room to scream into a pillow or two, you eventually find yourself getting ready. 

Shouto let you know he would be going straight from the agency. He had clothes in a locker here— casual, some jeans and a sweater, which at least allayed the fear of being underdressed.  

You pull on one of your nicer jackets, holding the lapels close to your chest as you step out into the cold evening. Dark cumuli gather in sparse clumps across the darkening sky; as mercy has it, the wind is pushing them in the opposite direction.

The place isn’t far. You don’t frequent it very often but liked it well enough despite management being a bunch of rich guys playing dive-bar dress up. The low ceilings, vintage mismatched furniture and dim red lights created an intimate atmosphere. 

People loved the idea of finding a hole in the wall that nobody else knew about. The catch was everybody knows, but not everybody can get in. 

Flashing above the door in green neon lights is a sign grimly reading ‘The Love Shack’. The first thing you notice is the strong woodsy smell masking the faint scent of alcohol. There’s a floral tinge to it that you have trouble pinpointing. 

You head inside and greet the bouncer standing by the entrance. He’s a big guy, standing around 6 feet 9, mutton chops swallowing a great deal of his face. Resting on his bald crown are a pair of comically small sunglasses. 

Before he can ask for your name it is being hollered across the bar. A few heads turn and you dip your chin to shield from prying eyes. Uraraka is bounding over, Mina hot on her coattails. The pair topple into you with canorous laughter clear over the music. 

“You’re here!” Uraraka effused, grabbing at your shoulders and shaking them. “I haven’t seen you in so long! Shouto has been keeping you all to himself”. 

Mina slumps against you, echoing Ursraka’s words with a slurred whine. “Holy shit. Are you guys already tipsy?” unsteady on your feet you try to keep them upright. 

“No,” Mina tittered, pink lips jutting into a pout. She pokes at your cheek. “You’re just too sober!”

You startle. Another hand, large and hot, splays at the small of your back. The bouncer grunts and encourages you in the direction which they came from. That appears to spur the girls on— you’re dragged to the far end of the bar, a wide booth nestled just around the corner, hidden from view. 

You’re met with a chorus of cheers. Kirishima, Jirou and Shinsou beckon you forward. Bakugo is nursing a pint, offering you a wordless nod. Momo shakes her head as Denki attempts to climb out and greet you despite being trapped by the table, patting his back when the effort is fruitless. 

“Alright, alright. I missed you too,” you grin, helplessly charmed by your friend's excitement. Uraraka ushers you into the booth. You scoot up beside Momo, the group packed in like sardines to make room. 

Mina bends to press a wet kiss to your hairline. It leaves behind a sticky impression of her lips. “Let me go grab you a drink, babe!” she chirps, skipping off toward the bar and immediately draping her upper body over the black countertop to wave the bartender over. 

The conversations resume, an easy atmosphere settling over your group. Though you aren’t entirely from their world they do well to involve you, asking for your thoughts, trying to make you laugh. Jirou blushes under the red lights when you bring up her latest album, sending you an appreciative grin. Mina returns holding an impressive amount of drinks, her fingers slipping dangerously on the condensation. 

You are one strawberry daiquiri in. There’s a muted yet pleasant buzz under your skin, no doubt aided by the good company. Still, you cast an anxious glance around the room, curious about Shouto’s absence. A soft tap to the knee draws your attention. 

Momo turns to whisper in your ear, “Shouto said  he’ll be here on the hour,” answering that unspoken question. Your cheeks fill with an indignant breath, embarrassed by your own transparency. 

“We aren’t attached at the hip, you know,” you rasp childishly. It’s a lie— you’ve lived with Shouto for only three weeks and you have already forgotten where he ends and you begin. Momo laughs, hiding it behind the back of her hand. 

“Could’a had me fooled,” Bakugo interjects, scoffing behind his drink. The glass tips and he drains the last of it. “Your name is all I hear outta his mouth these days. Starting to think he doesn’t know any other words”. 

You hold up an accusing finger, “Quit reading our lips, dickhead”. 

The other bares his teeth, gums and all. He moves his hands in recognisable patterns at a deliberately slow pace, as if talking down to you. ‘Fuck you’ he signs. 

“Oh!” Kirishima claps abruptly. You startle, almost knocking over your drink. He’s so big that it rocked the table. “Check this, Bakugo. I’ve been learning more signs, you gotta tell me if I’m doing ‘em right!”

“Fuck do I look like to you?”

“Like my handsome best bro,” is his smooth reply. Cheeks red as his hair, a cocksure grin flashing his sharp teeth; Bakugo softens, clicking his tongue in feigned annoyance, betrayed by the twitch by the corner of his mouth. You think Kirishima is like an overgrown stray that manipulated Bakugo into being his human. 

Whatever he clumsily signs must have been obscene, because Bakugo roars with laughter.

“Who the hell taught you that, shitty hair?” 

The hour comes and goes. Rings of water collect under the glasses. Shouto is five minutes late. You displace the group, accepting Uraraka’s loose lipped complaints as she is forced to scoot back out the booth. Pinching the fat of her pink cheek, she’s placated by the promise of another round on you. 

“I’ll come with,” Shinsou offered with a lazy wave. 

“Thanks,” waiting for him to get to his feet, you smile. You liked Shinsou well enough. Working as an underground hero meant you didn’t get to see him too often. 

You approach the bar. The man working behind it has gossamer insectoid wings on his back, sprouting from two long slits in his fitted shirt. They glint in the light, colours refracting iridescent, reminding you somewhat of a church window. 

He comes over as he catches your eye, wiping down the sticky surface. You’re honest enough to admit he’s handsome. Rugged with a baby face, hair falling over his forehead in loose curls. There’s an easy air about him, and when he flashes a crooked grin you feel the alcohol a little too thick in your veins. 

Tattooed forearms brace against the bar and he leans into your magnetism, “What can I get ya?”

“They’ll have the same as last time,” you reply. “I think the tab should be under Kaminari’s name?” 

He nods, eyes skimming over your form, “Won’t be long”. 

You turn to find that Shinsou is staring, kissed by a reddish glow. His mouth downturns into a smirk. “I don’t think he even noticed I was here,” he drawls. 

Defensiveness prickles over you. “Don’t think anyone has,” you lightly knock your arms together. “You’ve been quiet tonight”. 

“Not my scene,” Shinsou sinks forward, propped up by his elbow, and rests his chin in the cradle of his hand. His heavy lidded eyes never stray. “But I can’t say no to free drinks”.

The barman works the taps in your periphery but you remain focused on Shinsou. There’s a new scar across his cheekbone, right where his persona mask ends. Another over his mouth, a thin line of rough tissue that cuts through his five o’clock shadow. The mass untameable hair on his head has been cut shorter, tapering around his neck. 

“Leech”. 

“Look who’s talking,” his smirk widens. You watch his gaze slide over your head and dread swirls in your stomach at the gleam in his eye. “I think your nepo baby boyfriend just got here”. 

“Not my boyfriend,” you hiss under your breath. He holds his laughter between his teeth. “And don’t call him that!” 

Shinsou laughs into his palm, low and rumbling. You hear the fond invocation of your name as the heat of another body appears at your back. Met with brilliant teal and stormy grey, Shouto greets you both apologetically. 

Perking up self consciously, you say, “You made it!”

“Hi. Sorry, I got caught up and lost track of time”. 

You’re happy to see him. He’s in fitted jeans and a dark button up shirt over an old black turtleneck. Heterochromatic eyes slide from your smiling face to Shinsou’s own disinterest, then drawn to the drinks that have steadily begun to accumulate on the bar counter. 

“Ah, let me get you a drink—” you wave over the guy who served you, though it is hardly necessary when he’s already observing. He saunters over with a pint of lager, setting it beside Mina’s garish rainbow concoction. 

“Everything alright?” 

Squinting at the messy kanji on his name tag, you think you can make it out. Kei, it reads. “Would we be able to add another to the tab? Our friend just made it”. 

For some reason Shouto crowds in closer, the cool press of his left side seeping through your shirt. Kei barely pays him any mind. “No problem,” a cold flush crawls across your back when he winks. “Anything for you. What’ll it be?” 

“I’ll have a highball,” Shouto interjects. You frown at his sudden sharp demeanour, and lean your weight back in hopes of comforting him. The air warms up. 

Kei’s enthusiasm fractures imperceptibly, “Alright. Let me get started on that for ya”. Shinsou snorted, his head dipped to his chest and shaking; you think you aren’t nearly drunk enough for whatever this is.

“Shit. You really are petty,” Shinsou speaks up after Kei departs to the other end of the bar. “I always thought Midoriya was exaggerating”. 

“Petty?” you echo, squinting at your roommate with a soft pout. Shouto fixes his gaze to the bottles lined across the wall and looks as though he wants the earth to swallow him whole. 

“Highballs are tedious to make,” Shinsou turns his back to the bar, leaning against it with his drink in hand. “You definitely chose that on purpose”. 

“I didn’t,” Shouto monotoned. “I like whisky”. 

“I’ve never seen you drink whisky,” your voice lilts into suspicion. Shouto narrows his eyes, pointedly avoiding yours. A terse beat passes, and you inhale with defeat. “Oh, whatever. Go say hi to the others while we bring the drinks”. 

Shouto blanched. “I can help—”

“I’ve already got a big strong man here to help me,” Shinsou scoffed. There’s an umbrella resting on the lip and a purple straw in his mouth. You put a hand on Shouto’s bicep and squeeze, “You need to let Momo know you’re here before she sends out a search party”. 

The contact visibly placates him. You watch after him as he makes his way to the booth. Slurred over the low music, he turns the short corner to be met with a cheer in much the same way you had. 

“You two are ridiculous,” Shinsou murmurs, amused exasperation clear in his tone. Splitting the drinks into two groups to carry, you ignore his remark and the fondness swirling in your chest. 

Kei appears and sets the highball down. A tall glass of liquid gold, three carved ice cubes fizzing at the bottom, a lemon garnish on the rim. “Thank you,” you tell him, pleased when he reciprocates your sheepish grin. 

You let Shinsou take it— your hands are already full and slipping. The others have pulled Shouto into the booth and sandwiched him between Denki and Mina, whose distinct voices are overlapping as they try to get a word in. 

Denki stops mid sentence as Shinsou slams the drinks onto the table. You do the same, albeit much more carefully. He lists them off one by one, sliding the glasses over to their persons. Shouto’s comes last. 

“And in a surprising turn of events we have Todoroki with a japanese highball”. 

Shouto accepts the drink with his right hand and a straight face, ignoring the harmonious ‘ooh’ that reverberates around the booth. 

Bakugo points his pinky at him, “And since when do you drink whisky?” 

Petulantly, Shouto mutters, “Since now”. 

Ultimately deciding to pull up a chair, Shinsou sits at the head of the table while you are squeezed on the end beside Bakugo; he side glances, raising his brow in acknowledgement. 

“Dude, now that we’re all here, let's have a toast!” Denki exclaims, literal sparks of joy bouncing from his crown. Everybody groans. 

“I’ll hear your toast bro,” Kirishima lifts his pint, the wonderful enabler that he is. Shouto meets your gaze across the table and raises his own with a shrug. 

“I, uh…” Denki shrinks under the pressure. “I dunno what I was gonna say”. 

“To a quick death,” Shinsou proposed, halfheartedly holding his sake in the air. 

“Hear hear,” muttered from beside you, Bakugo’s eyes fell closed. You snickered, alcohol weakening your inhibitions as you hook your chin over his shoulder. He allows it. 

Momo voices her disapproval and tips her glass, “To good health”. 

“To Chargebolt,” Jirou adds, a grin splitting her cheeks, laughter already bleeding into her words. “Seen him at his best, seen him at his worst, and still can’t tell the difference”. 

“Oi!” 

“To a livable minimum wage!” Uraraka hiccups. All the blood in her body seems to have rushed to her face; expression comically determined, betrayed by her spasming diaphragm. Everyone lifts a glass. 

The night crawls on. Another round, then two. Kei refills your glass, never without a flirty comment. You feel thawed from the inside out, a silly smile fixed to your lips. Your cheeks hurt from laughing, from the too-forceful kisses given by Mina, the rough pinch of explosive fingers. 

You might as well be engaged in a game of musical chairs; the only one refusing to surrender his spot is Bakugo. Jirou and Momo slink away somewhere private— ‘private’ being behind the vintage jukebox right by the bathrooms— and Kirishima scoots over to wrap you up in a side hug and pushes all the air from your lungs. Uraraka drapes herself across your front. Shinsou surrenders as Mina sits in his lap. Being with them is as innate as breathing. 

Maybe you didn’t fight a war together but they still embraced you as their own. And Shouto watches with that terrible, awful, shoujo twinkle in his eyes; you flush hot whenever you catch him, inundated by the desire to reach across and kiss him.

Your pulse is quick and movements slowed. A pleasant buzz circulates around your body. After the third round Shouto begins insisting that you stay put. “Okay,” you conceded tipsily. “Tell Kei I said hi”. 

Shouto leaves with a vaguely constipated frown. 

Bakugo cackles and refuses to tell you what was so funny. Momo returns to the sight of you clinging to the stubborn hero’s arm, cursing his name. “What are we laughing at?” she muses. You notice a few things first: there’s a fresh bruise on her neck, a button on her dress undone, and a glass of water in her grasp. 

Disheveled Momo is a rare treat. You’d tease her about it, if Bakugo did not immediately jump at the opportunity to tease you first. “Just gearhead and halfie being oblivious idiots,” he surmised. Another snort bursts from his nose. “‘Tell Kei I said hi’. Shit. Should’a seen his face”. 

“Bakugo,” Momo chides, attempting to disguise her own amusement. “Go easy on them”. 

He clicks his tongue, shaking you with a rough shrug of his shoulder. “You should tell him how you feel and fuck already”. 

Your mood tumbles, dampening as you sulk, “Shouto doesn’t want me like that”. 

“Yeah, right. And vice prez didn’t just get fingered by the jukebox”. 

“Bakugo!” Momo’s voice is stronger this time. She whips her head toward the other patrons and back, embarrassment flooding her cheeks. “I did not get… fingered,” she protested with a sharp whisper. 

“What’s that?” you feign ignorance, drowsy and loose lipped. “Momo got fingered?!”

Making Bakugo laugh feels a little like winning the lottery; having him throw an arm around you as he does it leaves you dizzy with accomplishment. You curl into his side, shoulders shaking. You mouth an apology across the booth and Momo stretches to take your hand, stressing her forgiveness. 

Shouto shatters the jovial atmosphere. He returns stiffly, his glare set in stone, and places a drink you did not order in front of you. After a quick sniff you realise that it’s water. 

“Once you’ve drunk that we should head home,” he says. It’s posed as a suggestion but you hear the instruction. Not wanting to irritate him any further, you begin to sip. 

Momo’s brow pinches with worry. “Is everything alright, Shouto?” 

He breathes harshly through his nose, coming out in a puff of cold air. ”Yes, everything’s fine. I’m sorry to cut the night short, Momo,” his face softens. “It was good to see you”. 

Astonishingly, Bakugo says nothing. His arm snakes from around your back. You finish the water with a big gulp, resurfacing for air. “Done,” you wipe the back of your hand across your lips. 

Shouto steadies you while you awkwardly scoot around the booth. Momo gathers you both into a hug, her kind hand stroking the length of your spine. “Text us when you get home”. 

“We will,” you promise, saluting as you’re gently pulled away. “See ya on Monday, great explosion murder god dynamite, sir!” 

The others have dispersed amongst the small crowd. You mourn not being able to say goodbye to them all. Shouto cinches around your waist and guides you to the door. You can’t complain— instinctively sinking into the embrace, surrounded by his cologne— but you do wonder what the hurry is. 

You waded through the mass of people until you both finally made your way out into the open air. The breeze encourages you closer to his front, cold and refreshing in your lungs. Already you feel as if some of your drunken enthusiasm is dissolving. 

“Shouto?” his pace slows mercifully, coming to a stop underneath a streetlight. The bulb blinks in five second intervals, dousing him in sickly orange. “Are you mad?” 

A warm hand hooks your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye only to avoid looking back. His lips part to speak, and when nothing comes they close. “I’m not mad,” he intoned quietly, thumb skimming over the line of your jaw. Your breath catches. 

He seems so… guilty. 

“I think you are,” you observe, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. You bring his hand down and intertwine it with yours. The alcohol must be making you brave. “But if you’re not ready you don’t need to tell me”. 

Some colour returns to his skin. Shouto huffs a disbelieving laugh. “You’re so—” cutting off that train of thought, he tugs you forward and wraps you into a hug. The crook of his neck shields you from the cold, and for a few short moments all you can hear is your heart beating in your ears. 

“…Have you ever felt like there are things you want to say but there’s something that always stops you from expressing them?” 

You take note of how his grip tightens, warm nose squished into your cheek as if he thought you might run. Shouto is nervous— rather, he’s making himself vulnerable to you. “I have,” you murmur. 

He bows his head to burrow into your shoulder, “Then, would you give me the chance to say them?” 

What you hear is: will you be patient with me? 

“Now?” you ask gently. The light overhead flickers again and your vision swims. You’re realising now that his impulsivity might simply be because he’s drunk. “Don’t you want to talk at home?”

Shouto shakes his head. “If I say it now you can change your mind and go back”. 

That’s worrying. You chew nervously on your bottom lip, “…Okay”. 

You expect him to let go but he doesn’t, though he does loosen his hold, as if giving you the chance to leave. Following a deep inhale, Shouto solemnly admits, “That guy at the bar. Kei. He asked me to give you his phone number”.  

“He did?” 

“Yes,” he says. 

“So where is it?” 

Dread and fatigue curdled in your stomach. You hear the moment Shouto swallows his caution. The atmosphere sours as he admits, “I burned it”. 

You step back, leaving his arms limp at his sides. He looks betrayed. Like you’re testing the strength of a promise you don’t recall making. This was not a good time nor place to talk about this. 

“My feet hurt,” his eyes widened in confusion. “I’m cold and I’m drunk and my feet hurt, Shouto. I want to go home”. 

The request registers slowly. You watch his face fall, gathering a facsimile of a smile. “Okay. Then let’s go home”. 

Your chest aches. You want to cry. You scramble for his hand and squeeze it tight, hating the despondent tone in his voice. “We’re too drunk. We’ll talk about this in the morning,” and that seems to lessen the rigidity in his bones. 

From then on, the walk is done in heavy silence. Your thoughts are muddied and loud, emotions bouncing back and forth between resentment and uncertainty. 

Underneath all of it is a seedling of hope that you daren’t nurture. 

The atmosphere clings, following you all the way home, suffocating as you stand a metre apart in front of your respective bedrooms. You bid him goodnight, hand lingering on the handle. Anticipation sits like a stone in your chest. 

You lie in bed waiting for him to knock. 

He doesn’t. 

Next time you open your eyes you wince at the throb behind them; it pings around the inside of your skull and you groan into your pillow. 

There’s movement in the apartment. Shouto had always been an early riser. Cold relief washes over you at the confirmation that he was here. Last night filters through your mind. One scene after another you try to make sense of it all. 

Kei had been genuinely flirting— you didn’t really think to take it seriously at the time. It was harmless fun, and you figured he was just the type that enjoyed teasing. 

Shouto must’ve realised it early on. That was the reason he stepped in and kept you away from the bar. But that didn’t line up right with the reality you knew, because the only reasonable explanation for his behaviour would be that— 

You shoot upright, kicking off your covers, and immediately feel it rebound. Thumbs pressed to your temples, you massage firm circles into your skin until the pain dulled. 

Holy shit. Shouto was jealous. 

A strange blanket of exhaustion settles back over you, as though your muscles have atrophied. You slide down the headboard and stare up at the marks on the ceiling, all sprawled out like dropped skeins of yarn. Suddenly your bedroom was a refuge from an inevitable relationship altering conversation. 

Shouto had been jealous of a man vying for your affection. Your Shouto: gentle, placid, considerate, patient, funny, beautiful Shouto. 

“Fuck,” you whisper into the emptiness. You can hear the coffee machine brewing in the distance. You’re torn between screaming into your hands and jumping on the bed. 

You settle on getting up. Slowly. It’s clear you had been drunker than you thought; your pyjamas are on back to front. You tremble as you slip your arms through the sleeves and right the collar, padding over to the door. 

Shouto wanted to talk last night and you stopped him. Guilt gnaws away at you. All that courage was shot down. Pretending to forget about it isn’t an option— you had to do this. 

The plan to be stealthy is squandered by the hinge on your door. A harsh squeak reverberates through the apartment. You huff, lowering from your tip toes, and walk towards the kitchen. 

Another body enters the hallway. Shouto turns on his heel and nearly drops his mug as you almost collide. Reflexes hammered into him, he catches it in one hand and manoeuvres you away from the hot splash with the other. 

“Shit. Did it burn you?” he breathes, bringing your hand up to his mouth. A chilly puff of air blows over your skin and you shiver. 

You clear your throat and try to find your voice. “I think you got it. Thank you, Shouto”. 

The sound of his name pulls him out of his reverie. You try not to feel hurt when he drops your hand like hot coal. “Sorry,” casting a forlorn look at the half empty mug and the small coffee puddle at his feet. Lips pressed into a thin line, he says, “I was bringing you some coffee. Thought you might need it”. 

Delicate tendrils of steam dance and dissipate into the air. You gently cup your hands around his and receive the mug, a small smile pulling at your mouth. His eyes are keen and searching as you take a drink. 

“I definitely needed it,” you tell him between sips. The coffee paves a hot path down your throat to your stomach— the warmth spreads, seeking to fill the spaces between. All the earlier fear is washed away.

The time you spend observing one another feels like a short eternity. You watch hope visibly thread into his features, brighter; the way he always should be. 

Softly, you ask, “Do you think we could talk about last night?”

“Yeah,” the word comes in a whisper. Head inclining, Shouto nods in one slow motion. Then, louder, “I should clean up, first. Where do you want to…?”

“Where?” you repeat. The thoughts in his head are written plainly across his forehead and you longed to rid him of them. Tilting and raising your brows suggestively, you tease, “Bedroom?” 

Shouto gives an amused huff and the remnants of caution are blown away like seeds in a dandelion clock. His steps are lighter, a subtle bounce to them. Light filters into the living room and your spirit is buoyed by giddiness and wonder. 

What had you been so afraid of? 

You wait in the crook of the L shaped couch, legs curled beneath your body, facing the tall standing windows that overlook the city. Your headache has lessened into a quiet echo. 

While he mops up the coffee you finish off the last drops in your cup. You take a moment to appreciate your surroundings. The emptiness you once felt in this room no longer exists. Blankets strewn across the cushions, small crochet coasters, pictures put into frames, books left face down to save the page, things out of place— it felt so lived in. 

It felt like home. 

You sit up when footfalls approach. Shouto is pretty in the late morning light, under eye shadows and all. “Did you even sleep last night?”

“Not much,” he confesses. His weight shifts before he finally decides on sitting beside you, turning to mirror your posture. “I thought I might’ve messed things up”. 

You stretch to put your mug on the coffee table and his eyes follow attentively. “Shouto, you didn’t mess anything up,” he wrings his hands together in his lap, searching your face for dishonesty and finding none. “Though you probably shouldn’t have burned up that guy's number”. 

“Probably,” he affirmed. The hair on his left side is pressed flat to his head. You count the creases on his cheek, stopping at the healing bruise on his jaw. The movement of his full mouth draws you back, “I am sorry for that. It was childish of me and I took away your choice”. 

You hum, shuffling closer on your knees. Shouto’s expression is beautifully open, and you understand it, because your heart beat is thrumming just the same. “Next time, give me the number so I can ask you to burn it myself”. 

Shouto’s fiddling halts. It’s a relief. You thought if he pulled at that hangnail any more he might unravel in front of you. A crease forms between his brows, “What?” 

“I don’t want anyone else’s number. I…” losing some of your strength, you close your eyes for a second. Inhale deeply, continuing on an exhale, “Last night, you were jealous”. 

It’s not a question. Shouto nods, his hand making an aborted reach for your own but thinking better of it. 

You slide your palm against his. Your fingers fill the spaces between his knuckles. Shouto holds on tight and you ask,  “…Why?” 

A nail traces random shapes into his skin. You watch him watching your finger, mouth curled into a small, wobbly smile. He steels his resolve, an internal monologue you aren’t privy to. With spine tingling cadence, he says, “Because I’m in love with you”. 

You’re not sure what you anticipated. There isn’t much that could prepare you for such a long awaited admission— for something you’d only daydreamed about hearing. The hunger in your heart rears its head, seeing his words as permission to want. To take. 

Shouto carries on, incognisant to your plight. “I made peace with my feelings a long time ago. It’s not something I wanted you to worry about”. 

“You’re doing it again,” you tell him. “Deciding things for me”. 

“I don’t want you to make peace with them. I want you to share them. With me,” Your eyes meet as he peers up. There’s a stray kiss curl by his temple, white and soaking up the sun. He shudders when you twist it gently around your finger. “I love you too, dummy”.  

Heat prickles at the back of your neck, feeling the shift in atmosphere. “Oh,” is his eloquent reply. A slow blooming grin pulls at his mouth as the reality sets in. 

“Yeah. Oh”. Giddiness bubbles in your chest like water in a wellspring and you let go to cup his face. Shouto leans into the cradle your hands form, eyes fluttering closed as your thumb skims over the scar tissue. His ears are warm. 

Guided by fleeting impulses you press a quick kiss to his left eyelid, and he sucks in a shaky breath. You move lower, nose bumping his cheek, to press another to the corner of his mouth. 

“Is this okay?” you whisper, feeling like you were on the delicate precipice of something incredible. His mouth turns to chase yours, bicoloured eyes peeking beneath his lashes. 

“Kiss me,” he murmurs, and it comes like a puff of steam. “On the mouth this time”. 

Your lips tremble as you try not to laugh, aligning with his. You kiss him, petal soft and gentle, and feel it when he smiles. Tentative, derived from uncertainty and unfamiliarity. 

Shouto’s cool fingers slide around the nape of your neck, holding you in place. Don’t go anywhere. You answer in kind— hands sliding down to his chest to guide him back into the cushions and feel his heart racing as you settle your knees either side of his hips. You barely part for air, and Shouto follows your lead. 

“Again,” he mumbles. 

The intensity grows. Shouto kisses like it’s his last. Strong arms wrap around your waist, wandering hands mapping out the topography of your body. Somewhere between, your tongue dips into the seam, biting his bottom lip and plucking a whine right from his mouth. Heat flutters low in your abdomen; hips squirm between your thighs, his chest pressed to your own. 

“Shouto,” you groan, pushing harder, needing to be closer, threading into the soft hair at the back of his head. Fingers curl into the fat by your hips, they pull, rocking you into his lap. Invigorated, Shouto nips at your lips. Arousal spikes through you at the cool exhale— his tongue slides over your own and along the grooves in your teeth, wet and cold. 

“Fuck, is that—” you pant, head falling back as he begins to leave a trail of hot kisses down your throat. “S’that your quirk?” 

He hums an affirmative. The sound is resonant, deep in his chest and satisfied. Smug. You feel the impression of his smile against your jugular. Static fills your brain. Your thighs clench, rutting forward to relieve the ache between your legs, imagining all the things his mouth could do. 

At some point you part to catch your breath. Your foreheads come together, sharing awed laughter. Shouto cheeks are pink and there’s a soft smile on his swollen, kiss-bitten lips.  His hand moves to cup your jaw, rubbing small circles into the cheekbone.

“We should… slow down…” his chest heaves, eyes swallowed by his pupils. They fall to his lap, right where you’re pressed to his cock. You file away the lazy slur in his voice and wonder if that’s where all his blood went. “…I want to do this properly”. 

Figures that he would have more willpower than you; though you get the sense if you pushed, he’d give, and every surface in the apartment would see you laid out. Gathering your thoughts is made much more difficult as he kneads at your thigh, heedless to your struggle. 

“Okay baby,” you murmur, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to his brow bone. His ears turn red and you’re alight, “You like that?” 

Shouto tucks his grin against your shoulder. Like before, he locks both arms around your back and holds you close. You comb your fingers through his hair, overlapping white and red, a long tender moment passing. 

“You love me,” he whispered apprehensively. Then again, thick with wonderment. “You love me”.  

It’s unbelievable to him— and that’s unbelievable to you. Shouto is easy to love, moreso than anyone you have ever met. All clandestine glances, soft spoken words and inside jokes; a book of every witty little thing you’ve said, keeping your words close, giving importance to the things you enjoy; he’s gag gifts and thoughtfulness and open arms, the reason all your hot drinks never go cold, he’s the cream that never melts. He’s home. 

You cradle him to your chest with no intention of letting go. The sun crawls higher, casting a warm blanket over your shoulders. 

“I do,” you reply. “How could I not?” 

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader

[another-lost-mc]

Mammon's the type of guy who will randomly remember that mc will die at a certain age and get sooo depressed, he can get this thoughts at midnight and go to mc's room just to wake them up and cry about their mortality

You're right though, it makes sense that Mammon might do something like that. Mammon adores MC and he's going to be devastated even thinking about losing them, up until he and his brothers find a way to prevent it. Because he will not lose them, he can't–

For demons, the passage of time means just that. Days turn into months turn into years turn into centuries, and not much changes. Demons take for granted that Solomon is a rare exception, not the norm, when it comes to aging and mortality. Most humans talk about time differently than demons, too—they realize it's a rare, finite commodity they have to make the best of.

Take Mammon's precious human, for example. He starts to notice little groans or hisses of discomfort they make when their body aches in ways it never used to. They scrutinize their appearance in the mirror more often, and realize their skin's not as firm—and is that a grey hair?!

Maybe Asmo notices too, those times when he scrolls through his Devilgram feed to look back on fond memories with you. He sees you all the time, but looking at photos from a year ago? Five years ago? He can see how much you've changed.

If the demons haven't figured out a way to address their beloved human's mortality already, something is going to remind them that they're running out of time.

[Mammon x gn!Reader, 0.6k words, sfw. Content warnings: references to death/mortality, grieving, angst.]

Mammon put on the cheesy-lookin’ human world movie because it was long after midnight and sleep eluded him. He figured if it was as dumb as it looked, he might finally doze off.

By the time the end credits start rolling, he's a blubbering mess.

He’s always cracking jokes and making sarcastic commentary during bad movies. Ain’t that the whole point of watching ‘em, to have a good laugh?

But sometimes movies catch him off-guard, like the one tonight. Usually they’re films you pick, the ones you promise he will enjoy and you’ll accept the consequences if you’re wrong.

(Maybe you make everything so much better just by being there with him.)

Mammon doesn’t like to think about the possibility of you not being there anymore. He already has to deal with your visits to other realms which is annoying enough, but he can deal with that. It's the thought of you being gone forever, the thread of your human life inevitably cut when you grow old, or if something happens to you—

He hates thinking about it. It’s like a black hole inside him that traps his heart in a vicegrip and makes it impossible for him to breathe. He takes for granted that most humans aren’t like Solomon—you won’t be around forever, and he tries so desperately not to think about it because it kills him inside.

He tries to do what everyone else does: carrying on and basking in the warmth of your very existence without considering what comes next. If the others worry about the day when you suddenly won’t be there anymore, no one else says anything.

(But sometimes Asmo frowns when you peer at your reflection in the mirror and joke about the little wrinkles you’ve developed, and Beel shoves more food onto your plate when he thinks you’re not eating enough, and Levi complains that you’re too tired to pull all-nighters with him like you used to.)

He wipes his eyes and curses this damn movie about the lovey-dovey human couple growing old together, how they lived together and loved together and eventually died together. It should be romantic, but it fills him with dread.

Mammon looks down at the pact mark etched on his skin. One day you’ll disappear, and your pact mark will too. He won’t be able to chase after you anymore to keep reminding you that he’s yours, and you’re his.

He rushes across the house in a panic and ends up outside your bedroom. He can hear you snoring softly on the other side, but the familiar sound is a small comfort. He cracks the door open, and the light from the hallway spills across a familiar lump underneath your blankets. He doesn’t mean to wake you when he slips between your covers and melts into the warmth of your body as he wraps himself around you.

You peer at him sleepily, eyes half-lidded and unfocused. “Wazza’matter?” you mumble with a yawn. You wrap an arm around his waist and snuggle closer to his chest. “Y’okay?”

Tears roll down his cheek and he swallows around the lump in his throat. He doesn’t answer right away—not until he suppresses the urge to sob uncontrollably, like he just did in his room.

“Just couldn’t sleep,” he whispers, and you’re too tired to notice the way his voice cracks.

“M'kay. G’night, Mammon,” you murmur as your breathing slows and your body relaxes in his arms.

He holds you close and matches his breathing with yours. He strokes your back and bites his lip whenever a new wave of tears fall from his eyes and drip onto your pillow.

He knows by morning the stains will be dry, the evidence of his despair washed away by time, just like you will be one day.

He's so exhausted but his heart is heavy. He doesn’t sleep.

Read more: obey me! masterlist

#obey me x reader #omswd x reader #obey me mammon x reader #mammon x reader #obey me angst #omswd angst #mammon angst #obey me mammon x mc #mammon x mc #obey me mammon x you #mammon x you #obey me fanfic #omswd fanfic #x reader #gn!reader #obey me mammon

[skzhua]

if i leave, which i must do

MASTERLIST

pairing: han jisung x female!reader

genre: fluff, angst, isekai, portal universe, strangers-to-lovers.

word count: 29,083

warnings: swearing, car accident, mentions of death, mentions of sex, suggestive. (proofread-ish)

summary: a movie night by yourself turned out to be an unexplainable experience as you got stuck in the film you were watching. it was a true nightmare until you found jisung to help you.

a/n: one of my favourites ever! it took me so long to finish it but i can't be any prouder. i really hope you enjoy it!

Being sick was one of the things you hated the most, and there wasn't much you hated. Having a cold meant having to cough every five minutes to clear your throat or blowing your nose all the time to the point it got red from how irritated it was. One perk, however, was that you could use it as an excuse to skip work. Getting to stay at home to do nothing was everything your lazy nature would dream of. Plus, your love for movies and cinema came handy when all you could do was watch films all day.

So when you began to feel your throat getting dryer and your nose building up snot, you couldn't be any happier. The office you worked at had given you very strict deadlines and you'd been working your ass off for weeks to meet their expectations. By taking the next day off, it would give you a very much needed break since all of your documents would be given to someone else to finish them. 22 years old was too young to be doing this much, you thought. But you needed the money so you had to settle for that, only temporarily.

First thing you did when you got home that day was to open all the windows of your apartment, not considering your poor rabbit in her playpen who didn't ask for any cool air. It might not have helped much in making sure you would stay sick the next day but you gave yourself credits for trying nonetheless.

Afterwards, you hurried yourself to get changed into your pyjamas you loved so much and order food since you had no energy to cook. Once your order arrived, it didn't take you long to get settled on the couch to get ready for a movie night on your own. Before doing anything, you still made sure you had everything — meaning your food, water, your blankets, cutlery for your meal, etc. — and then grabbed your remote to turn the television on. As you browsed through Netflix's selection of recommended films for you, you realized how the movies on there became repetitive and you had seen most of them. Still, you continued to scroll in hopes something would be eye-catching enough to you. But none seemed good enough. Annoying, your food was getting colder by the minute.

You were about to move onto another streaming platform until you read a synopsis that grabbed your curiosity. It followed the journey of a struggling artist in his early 20s who can't seem to find the inspiration for his music, all while having to face his personal issues called becoming an adult. This was not the type of movies you would usually go for which made you wonder why it even caught your eye. The duration was an hour and fifty minutes and that was also not what you'd go for on a daily basis. Besides that, heavy subjects as these ones felt a bit much for a Wednesday night. However, you weren't going to work the morning after so fuck it. Happy with your choice, you grabbed your plate and brought it closer to you to dig into it and clicked on the play button.

The opening scene showed a young boy — not much older than seven if you had to guess — playing in a playground with a few friends. Some credits appeared on screen as the mellow score played in the background. As the children continued to laugh loudly, a woman's voice could be heard calling out a "Han Jisung". The boy turned around to see his mother walk up to him as she informed him that it was time to head back home. The boy shook his head violently, insisting on staying longer to play. The woman repeated herself but unlike what she would've liked, her son refused to budge and headed to the swings he was playing close to, holding tightly onto one of the poles. Sighing heavily, she asked him again but he did not move. Poor woman, she was obviously exhausted and wanted to go home to take a nap.

"You and me, girl," you commented in-between bites.

Growing impatient, Jisung's mother approached him and reached her hand out to him. Stubborn, he shouted he wanted to stay, and ran all the way to the other side of the street to get away from her reach. As any mother would do, she ran after him while telling him to slow down as he was much faster than her. He still ignored her demands. Sadly, she was not quick enough to catch up with him and, just as she was crossing the road, a pickup truck collided with her body right before Jisung's eyes. It took him a moment to process everything, he was left speechless. Mouth wide open, he stared at the figure of his mother on the ground in horror. He fell onto his knees, his legs too weak to support his body as he was still in disbelief of what just occurred.

You paused it.

Releasing an exhale you didn't know you were holding back, you stared at the screen in shock. You were barely ten minutes in and you could not believe this had to be how the film began. Setting your plate on the coffee table, you walked to your rabbit's playpen and picked her up, bringing her close to your chest. You jumped right back into your blankets and made sure both you and the animal were comfortable.

"Fifi, I won't be able to finish this if I don't have you with me," you said to your bunny in a child-ish voice.

The screen was still frozen while you debated whether you really wanted to continue it or not. In the end, you gathered all the courage you had and clicked on play, giving Fifi scratches to release your stress.

The next scene was a time skip to Jisung's 23rd birthday. When you thought he was all alone as he was staring longingly at a picture of him and his mother, one of his friends barged in his room as he shouted a "happy birthday". He responded with a smile and set the picture back on his desk before the both of them walked out to their dining room. There were only two other men with him who seemed to be living with him. The place wasn't that big but it was functional which is what mattered really. Jisung's other friend placed a cake in front of him as they sang the birthday song to him, all of them exchanging wide smiles. You learned that he is the youngest since his friends kept on teasing him for being a year closer to their own ages.

"Have we gotten any calls?" he asked after blowing on the candles.

From their reaction, they didn't receive any sort of call that they were expecting. This didn't make Jisung lose his joyful spirit and he went ahead with cutting pieces of cake for the three of them.

"Great, now I'm craving cake," you grumbled to yourself. "Should I get a cake? No, it's too late and the grocery stores must be closed."

The scene switched to an anxious Jisung in his room who kept on rewriting on a piece of paper while tugging on his hair, eyebrows furrowed as to show his focus on the task at hand. He bopped his head up and down and began to hum a melody. Unsatisfied, he shook his head and noted something down on his phone. Multiple shots of him doing the same couple of actions — rewriting, erasing, humming a beat, throwing a paper away, getting distracted by something he saw on his phone —played one after the other. It was like he was stuck in a loop and the more it went, the more he was getting discouraged. Finally determining he wouldn't get any work done that night, he grabbed his jacket and walked out the door.

The following shot was now set outside where the night was slowly settling, sunset on display. As a melodic score played in the background, Jisung walked down a small street as he kept on kicking on a tiny rock he found on the ground. Taking in the fresh air, he suddenly stopped and took notice of his whereabouts after having walked a decent distance. The camera panned out to a playground, the same one where his mother was hit.

You felt movement on your thighs and frowned, only to remember you had brought your bunny out of the comfort of her home. Since the movie didn't seem to be getting into anything as traumatic as the first scene, you stood up to get her back to her playpen. However, with having the screen as your only source of light in the room, you tripped onto the plastic bag that was used to wrap your takeout. You felt yourself fall onwards and let out a yell in panic. Your bunny was quick enough to get away from your grasp and hide underneath your couch. As for you, you kept on falling and closed your eyes shut in waiting of your head hitting something. Only, everything went black.

You didn't know what happened but one thing was for sure. You did not hit your head.

Everything was blurry when you finally opened your eyes after gaining a bit of consciousness. You tried to see better around you but a sudden eerie ringing was suddenly bursting through your ears, making it impossible for you to concentrate on something else. You shut your eyes closed again from how painful the ringing was and put your hands on your ears in attempt to diffuse some of it.

"Miss?" you thought of hearing faintly but nothing was vivid enough for you to be sure. "Miss?" you heard the voice say again, this time a tad bit clearer.

You began to hear again much clearer, allowing you to open your eyes properly. Needless to say you were stunned once your gaze fell upon the man in front of you. He had a concerned look on his face while analyzing your figure, making sure you were not injured in any way.

It couldn't be possible, no.

Looking around for a hint or anything, you realized you were exactly where the character of your movie was standing through your screen only minutes ago. The same character who was now all flesh and bones, standing tall (or short for some people) at 5'7ft in front of your very eyes.

"Miss," he said again. "Are you alright? Do you need help?"

You blinked slowly as you stared at him up and down, almost creepily. You hadn't realized he began to feel uncomfortable until he cleared his throat loudly, bringing your eyes back to his own. With one eyebrow raised, he repeated the question. No luck, you kept silent.

Jisung looked around and noticed the sun was about to get down completely, meaning it would be pitch black in this part of the city. Although he thought of you to be odd, he was humane. Never would he let a young woman — might he add as attractive as you were — on her own this late outside.

"Do you live nearby? I can walk you home," he offered.

Again, you didn't seem to find an answer. Well, how could you even describe that you believed to have gone through your television screen which caused you to travel into the movie's universe? Yourself couldn't believe it to be true. Nonetheless, you couldn't deny the man was very much real and that the cold was very much coming through your clothes.

Your clothes. You weren't in your pyjamas anymore, but rather in a business attire. You held a briefcase that you had no idea what it was for, and you felt an unknown phone in your back pocket. You could feel the blisters on your feet caused by the heels you were wearing and although the blazer was most definitely fashionable, you were freezing. You pondered the possibility of having transferred into a character's body unintentionally.

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" Jisung asked as he caught onto your oblivion.

The only thing you could do right until finding out what happened to you was say nothing and lead your own investigation on how you got here and how you can return to the comfort of your house with your bunny. Fuck, Fifi! Poor her, she must be so afraid without you around to take care of her.

"Hey," Jisung spoke again in a comforting voice. "You'll be okay, I want to help you. Did you forget where you live?"

How sweet of him, you thought. In your own universe it was hard for you to find caring men, you hit the jackpot when stumbling upon him. Still, you had to remind yourself that this person was technically a fictional character, he didn't represent reality. You made a mental note to yourself to check if this movie was directed or written by a woman when you would get back home.

"Do you know your name, at least?"

Oh, right. Maybe the guy deserved some sort of answer at the very least.

"Y/N."

You were taken aback when his face lit up to show his boxy smile. He had a very pretty smile, it was a reassuring smile.

"Miss Y/N, my name is Han Jisung. Now that I know you can speak, can you answer my questions from earlier, please? I would hate for something dangerous to happen to you and I genuinely want to get you home safely."

You chuckled at his words, feeling uneasy from his display of chivalry. "I-I don't remember a lot."

You had seen this in movies: in situations of travelling to an alternate universe, faking having amnesia was the way to go if you wanted to survive through this. People put their guards down usually instead of being wary of you.

Jisung nodded and looked up for a moment to think of what to do next. "I live nearby if you need a temporary shelter for the night. I have two roommates and the place might not be as tidy as what you must be used to, if you remember. I don't know if you are comfortable with it but I'd be happy to help you gain your memories back."

Seriously, why couldn't people be more like this in your world? Trying to ignore to storm of feelings, thoughts and emotions that was happening in your mind, you shyly agreed to stay at his place. For the night only. You should get back in less than 24 hours, no?

Jisung was right and his apartment was no further than a few blocks away from the playground. The building was rather small and a bit torn down but besides that, it seemed to be just fine for him. As long as the necessities were there, it didn't bother him if the quality was not one of a five-star hotel.

It took you three flights of stairs to get to his place which was so painful to climb up with your heels. You still managed through the pain all the way up to when Jisung opened the door wide to let you in first. To say you were startled when you walked in would be an understatement. Two men — you recognized as his roommates — were walking around the flat with no shirt on while they were preparing themselves what seemed to be like chicken sandwiches. The sight was not what you had anticipated, although this whole situation wasn't either, and you let out a scream without thinking first. The two of them shot their heads up and were obviously confused to see a young woman stand there instead of their younger friend.

"Can we help..?" one of them who had blonde hair asked reluctantly.

"Guys!" Jisung exclaimed from behind you before coming to stand next to you. "This is Y/N. Y/N, these two are my roommates. This is Changbin."

Changbin held his hand up, still lost about what was happening in his own home. "Hey?"

"And that's Chan."

Chan was kind enough to grab a hoodie that was laying on a chair nearby and put it on before shaking your hand. Your heart stopped from the contact with his skin and you seriously wondered what was up with the men of this world.

"Y/N is a bit lost, I think she had a some sort of brain injury when I bumped into her. She was holding her head tightly and she was visibly in pain. I asked her a few questions about herself and the only thing she could remember was her name," Jisung explained to the older guy who listened attentively.

"Amnesia?"

"That's my guess. Until we can help her find who she is, I offered her to stay here."

Chan nodded in approval while Changbin shrugged his shoulders. "As long as I can work on my stuff in peace, I don't mind. She's kind of cute too."

"Changbin," Chan sent him a look, making him mutter a quick apology. He then turned to face you which scared you a little. "I bet you're tired. Or hungry, maybe? Can I offer you something to drink?"

"Do you have green tea?"

He clasped his hands together and headed off back to the kitchen. "On it."

"I'll give you a tour of the place," Jisung informed. "It's not big but it's home. Here is the living room which we do not use that much. I'll sleep there tonight, though, so you can have my bed."

You held your hand up in disagreement. "I'll take the couch, it's alright. I'm lucky enough you're letting me stay."

He pfft at you. "Nonsense, take my bed. I insist." When he got a nod from your part, he moved on to continuing showing around. "This is the bathroom. Not that big but it does what it needs to do. Here's Changbin's room and I recommend you don't knock if the door is closed. Just wait until he's done. And here's Chan's room where he never sleeps, just works."

"Not true," you could hear from the kitchen, making Jisung smile, embarrassed.

"Yeah, uh, we can pretty much hear everything throughout the whole flat. It's not that bad from the rooms to the common areas because we tried to soundproof them as much as we could but yeah."

"Soundproofing for your music, or for other types of activities..?" you implied jokingly.

Damn it, the air in this universe was different, you couldn't even be yourself. Well, you did make a lot of bad jokes, sometimes related to sex, back home. Still, you really had no filter there. Noticeably, both of you were quite surprised from your statement and were a blushing mess for a few seconds before he answered.

"Music, but it is useful for these... things."

He cleared his throat and walked away shyly, and you most certainly thought this was adorable. Containing yourself, you followed his lead to the room at the very end of the hallway. Everything you saw from the movie was still at their exact spot, including the picture of him and his mother. While he was telling you about his room and cleaning it up a bit at the same time, you couldn't hear a thing he was saying. Your eyes stuck on the framed image for longer than they should but there was something in his mother's eye. A shine? A glow? Or something more mellow? You couldn't figure it out but it was enchanting, she was beautiful. It was crazy how much Jisung took after her, their features being so similar and yet so different.

"She's pretty," you spoke before thinking, yet again.

Jisung awkwardly walked to his desk and put the picture face down. "It's my mom," he said, clearing his throat and avoiding your look.

"She raised a very kind son," you added and he mouthed a small "thanks" as he kept his eyes on the floor.

You took the opportunity to get a good insight of his personal space. Even if cleaned a bit, it was a mess but not in a disgusting way. It was a comfort kind of messy, the one that screamed "this place was loved and well lived in". His bed had simple dark blue sheets with a single pillow, his desk and dresser were a matching set, and his bookshelf was filled with figurines, one or two books and many music albums. His entire desk was dedicated to his music, even the background displayed a guitar. It felt homey.

"Someone ordered tea?" Chan said as he came in with a mug. He set it on the desk while you thanked him kindly. "Be careful, it's still boiling hot."

Without adding a word, he left the two of you alone in your awkward silence. While you were still looking around, Jisung was biting his lip down, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt with one hand while the other was still on the picture. Eventually, he seemed to snap out of his discomfort and went to open one of his drawers. From there, he pulled a t-shirt out along with a pair of sweatpants before holding them out to you.

"I'm pretty small so hopefully it'll fit. You can use the shower as long as you need, the shampoo and soap are in the basket. Use any towel, we washed them this morning," he informed to which you nodded. The silence was slowly coming back but, decisively, Jisung wouldn't let this one through. "I'll be in the living room if you need anything."

"Thank you, Jisung."

He gave you one last smile before vanishing into the other room, leaving you alone to get changed. That was important, yes, but what you'd been dying to find out was what the fuck happened with you. You didn't waste another second to take the phone in your back pocket and turn it on. Obviously, it had a password unknown to you. What did help was the wallpaper: a picture of yourself hugging a bunny that looked identical to Fifi. At least, you knew you were yourself and not some random woman whose body you had to take over.

If this was your face with your bunny, did it mean it would be the same passcode as the one for your own mobile? You had to try at the very least, this phone was most likely your only chance to understand the situation better. You typed the first five digits and waited a second before typing the last one, tension growing in you. You closed your eyes, pressed it, and slowly opened them back. The sigh of disappointment that left your mouth would be indescribable but it was very discouraging. At least, you knew there was another Fifi waiting for her owner to get home in this universe too.

You quickly got changed, finally taking off these uncomfortable heels, and went to freshen up in the shower. Despite the fact the counter was a huge mess, the shower itself was kept pretty clean, more than you had expected for a boys apartment. You didn't wash for long, already exhausted from the day you'd had. After putting Jisung's clothes on, you walked out the bathroom, went to grab your tea, and joined the man who helped you in the living room.

When he got a good look at you, his eyes grew bigger while his plump cheeks flushed a little. The sight of a woman in his clothes was never something he though of ever happening. And yet, here you were. As beautiful as a model, you were in his clothes.

"Can I join you?"

Fuck, even your voice was pretty. He didn't realize it at first –probably because he only focused on helping you out– but you were drop dead gorgeous. All of the sudden, he could feel his hands getting sweatier and his heartbeat getting faster. What was happening to him?

"Sure," he mustered the energy to answer without stuttering. "How are are you feeling?"

"Calmer, but I'm still worried. I have no idea who I am and the background of my phone is myself with my rabbit who must be wondering where its owner went," you answered and pulled the phone out of your pocket to show it to him.

"Cute," he commented, not knowing if this was directed to you, the rabbit, or both. "Did you try getting in?"

You nodded. "The only password I could think of didn't work and I don't want to risk blocking it."

"I have a friend, Felix, he's studying in computer engineering. I can give him a call tomorrow and he could come to unlock it."

Your face lit up instantly. "That would really help, please."

"I'll do that first thing in the morning."

"Thank you."

He looked away and cleared his throat, your presence was making him so nervous. "It's no problem."

You got up and began to inspect the room, a little bit like you did in Jisung's. The couch wasn't aesthetically pleasing to the eye but it did the job and was the perfect amount of squishy. Their television was without a doubt second handed from someone else while the furniture that supported it was freshly new. You liked how they managed to organize everything to be functional without feeling cramped in the place, since it was very small.

"Do you always do this?" Jisung asked after watching you himself.

"What do you mean?" you frowned.

His face warmed up, embarrassed. "I meant, because you keep looking around like an investigator or something like that."

"Jisung, I've just lost all of my memory. I'm just trying to process everything and the very least of things would be to make sure I wasn't welcomed into an unsafe place, not like I think you're dangerous, but you know what I mean."

He nodded while pursing his lips in understanding. He proceeded to mentally flicker his forehead, swearing to himself to shush it around you. He really was trying to come off friendly and helpful but his reserved nature would force him to tell you stupid things like this.

"I'm done with my tea," you announced, showing him the empty mug.

He stared at you for a second until he snapped out of his thoughts, taking the mug and rushing to the sink to wash it. You chuckled at the sight. You were glad it was him whom you had stumbled upon. Although clumsy, he was being the sweetest.

"I guess I'll go to sleep," you said as he was still rinsing your remaining tea.

He raised an eyebrow at you. "Are you sure you have everything you need?"

"Don't worry, I'll call you if anything."

He nodded his head with satisfaction before wishing for you to sleep well. As he watched your frame disappear, he let out a heavy breath. He knew his social anxiety was bad but this was becoming an issue. He headed to the couch and settled himself to doze off. Still, his mind was on you, on how he had interacted with you. Meanwhile, you were staring at the ceiling blankly, wondering if you were even sure if you could get back home. That, and also thinking how it wouldn't be so bad to stay with these welcoming gentlemen.

To sum it all quickly, you didn't sleep much that night, and neither did Jisung.

If you thought you ever had a headache, the one you got when waking up was much worse than anything you'd had experienced. This was mildly due to the events of the previous day, but also to the screaming happening on the other side of the apartment. You felt safer leaving the door open to have easy access to help in case you needed any but this was not a good choice on your part. You had slightly forgotten men could be noisy as hell when it came to living with other men. And this, it was a confirmation you were not in a dream and still in a fictional character's home.

"Chan, give me the fucking eggs!" you heard Changbin shout angrily while the two others were uncontrollably laughing.

You yawned loudly before getting off the bed, rubbing your eyes in the process. Even if your body was telling you to get back into the soft bedsheets and sleep all day, your mind was screaming for you to not miss a moment to find a solution to your, slightly surreal, problem. Thus, you joined the three boys in the kitchen who were all still in their sleeping attires. By that, I mean Chan and Changbin were shirtless again while Jisung was wearing shorts with a tank top that was a bit too tight in your opinion. You unconsciously began to check them out in silence, standing like a poll.

Changbin finally noticed you and waved in a nonchalant way, visibly annoyed by his friends' antics. "Hey."

Jisung's head shot up from his breakfast to you and he didn't lose a second to join your side. "Hey, good morning. How did you sleep? Are you feeling better? Can I make you something to eat?"

His friends exchanging knowing looks didn't go unnoticed by you but you determined it would be better for the younger guy to be spared from such embarrassment and you ignored them. "I slept alright, although I do have a bit of a headache."

"I have Tylenols in the bathroom's cabinet. Do you want one or two?"

"I'll take two if you don't mind."

He hummed before sprinting to the said-bathroom, which left his friends struggling more to contain their cackles. You ignored them still and joined Changbin, whose body was quite distracting to say the least, and scanned the items displayed in front of him.

"What are you eating?"

The man left a frustrated sigh. "Toast and eggs if only Chan wasn't being a dick by hiding them from me."

"I told you I hid nothing, we just don't have eggs!"

"There were three left yesterday when I checked. How would they disappear out of nowhere?"

Jisung came back with two pills and a glass full of water, sheepishly smiling as he approached his friends. "Yeah, uh, I might have eaten them last night."

Both shut their eyes closed, clearly trying to not burst out at him. Meanwhile, you left out a small chuckle and joined him to get your pills.

"Thank you," you smiled at him and you saw his Adam's apple bop.

He returned the smile shyly to then focus back on the important matter of the day. "I didn't know you'd have an egg craving this morning."

Changbin shook his head. "It's not a craving, I need my proteins for my workout today," he huffed out as it this was the most obvious thing.

They continued to bicker for some time. It lasted long enough for Chan to remember you were still there and probably very hungry. He made two portions of his own breakfast, which was a bowl of cereals and fruits, and sat next to you while placing both dishes on the table. You gave him a thankful smile and the two of you savoured the food while Jisung was trying his very best to defend himself.

"You can just go buy some later," he said, rolling his eyes.

"I needed to eat them now, or it would fuck up my very precise diet."

You let out a grunt, and stood straight up. "Gosh, can you two shut up? I get that I'm bursting into your bubble by having slept here but I have a headache and memories to regain so can you please put your quarrel aside for now?"

To that, Chan pursed his lips and clapped quietly, obviously impressed. As for Jisung, he looked right into your eyes, unable to move. Day two and he was still fucking things up around you, great. He muttered an apology, not even loud enough to be heard, and embarrassingly walked back to his spot at the table to finish his breakfast.

"Sorry, Y/N. I guess I did overreact," Changbin admitted even though you could see it was hurting his pride.

The entire flat was silent for a few minutes with only the sounds from munching your food being heard. Eventually, Changbin went to get changed and headed out to what you presumed to be the gym. Chan was the next person to put his dishes in the dishwasher and lock himself in his room. That left a very quiet Jisung alone with you. He was hunching slightly and his eyes were focused on his phone, almost as to distract himself from your presence.

Feeling a bit offended, you called his name out. His doe-like eyes instantly found yours and you had to keep yourself from squealing at how cute he looked.

"Did you contact your friend for my phone?"

His eyes that were already big enough in your opinion got larger and his mouth opened agape. He most definitely had forgotten.

"I'll call him right now, I'm sorry."

He left the app he was scrolling through previously and dialed up a number before putting it on speaker. Nervous, he was nibbling on his lower lip while his legs were jumping up and down. Even with friends, having to call someone was a challenge for him.

"Han?" a deep voice answered the call.

"Hey, am I bothering?" Jisung asked, visibly uneasy.

"Never, what's up?"

"I got this... Uh, how do I say it? I met this girl yesterday-"

"Wait, a girl?" he cut him off with a gasp.

From the reaction of his friend, Jisung rolled his eyes before looking at you apologetically. He should have expected Felix to react this way by the mention of a girl. Jisung was too insecure and nervous to approach one, it was almost a miracle he even had the courage to even speak to you. Well, the context was much different. He was a man of principles and one of them was to always offer a helping hand to someone in need — you in this case.

"Where? How? What happened? Is she cute? Did you ask her out?"

For what seemed to be the hundredth time to him, he blushed and chuckled nervously. "She can hear you..."

There was a pause from the other side of the line for a brief moment. "Oh."

"Yeah, uh... So I was on a stroll around the neighbourhood and saw her having some kind of panic attack. She's calmed down since but she lost her memories. She has a phone but she can't remember her code so I was wondering if you could come by and unlock it for her, please."

"Sure, I'm with Hyunjin right now, though. Is it fine if he comes too?"

"Yeah, no problem. Thank you, I owe you one." He quickly hung up and smiled before looking at you. "Felix is an expert when it comes to technology, you'll see."

"I trust your judgement," you affirmed. "In the meantime, can I ask you a few questions?"

He was a mystery to you. Not only because he was from another universe, but also because of how he has been acting around you. If you had watched the entire movie before teleporting in it, you would've probably understood his being a lot better. However, his shy attitude and the way he acted when you were talking about his mother was something that bugged your brain cells.

"What kind of questions?"

You shrugged. "I know nothing about myself so I can't really tell you about me. But you have been so nice to me, it's only natural I'd like to know more about you."

"Good point," he let out a breathy laugh. "Alright, go ahead."

"Have you always been this introverted?"

With no hesitation, he shook his head no which wasn't the answer you expected. "I used to be outgoing but things got complicated at some point and I- let's say I rather keep to myself."

"But you've been pretty outgoing with me, no?"

He frowned, seemingly not agreeing with you. "Are you kidding? I'm surprised I'm not having a panic attack right now."

"You're doing good," you reassured with a chuckle.

"Thanks," he said with a nervous cough. "I'm trying."

An awkward silence settled between the two of you while you were still figuring out how to bring up the topic of his mother, especially his feelings towards it. The only thing that you could assume was the trauma it must have caused him based on what you saw on screen yourself.

A knock on his front door was all it took to bring your mind back on track, which caused Jisung to physically relax and run to answer whoever was coming. When the door opened, two men were greeted warmly by the young man. One was standing tall and gracious with his long dark locks falling in front of his eyes. He was pretty, you thought. The other was shorter but his voice was deep, so much you were doubting it was actually his voice. The freckles on his face stood out as much as his smile and his blonde hair was another aspect you took notice of. You learned him to be Felix and the moment his eyes fell onto your small figure, he stared at you with bright open eyes, almost as if he had seen a ghost.

"Oh my, Y/N! I swore Mina and I thought you vanished," he said in a worried voice as he sat where Jisung was previously. "Why didn't you answer our calls? Wait, let me guess, you put your phone on Do not disturb again?"

The taller man, who you were informed to be named Hyunjin from Jisung's greeting, rolled his eyes and sat next to him. The move was very smooth, you were doubting if this man was a model or an angel. Both answers would've made sense.

"Let the girl breathe, you're scaring her. Didn't Han say she has amnesia? Gosh, I'd think you're the one with no memories," he huffed, insinuating that Felix was stupid.

You were a bit startled by his rather rude behaviour but when you looked at Felix's reaction, it seemed to be a normal thing between them. As for Jisung, he stood still next to the door and confusion was sprawled all over his face.

"You know her?" he asked.

Felix lifted his eyes up, as if it was the most obvious thing. "She lives with Mina next to our place."

You nodded your head slowly although you were still totally clueless. "Right, Mina..."

"You really forgot? Damn, okay. Well, I know your passcode because you told me so this won't be a problem. I'm very curious, though. Do you know what happened to you?"

Telling them the truth was tempting but, again, who would even believe you? The thing itself was a mystery to you and felt surreal, you doubted they would take you seriously. Even more so if you mention the movie aspect of it.

"No idea," you shrugged which disappointed Felix.

"Alright, I'll help you regain your memories, then," he sighed and held out his hand in your direction. "Give me your phone."

You did as told and, immediately, Felix tapped the password with no problem before giving it back to you. As you browsed through the apps, you realized not much was different from what you had in your actual phone. If anything, this was the spitting image of it. Your first instinct was to go for the photos you had. As expected, many of them were of your bunny but another majority of them were of you with another girl.

"Mina?" you asked Felix, pointing at the girl's face to which he nodded as a confirmation.

"Your roommate and best friend. If I'm correct, you two have been friends for almost your entire life."

You continued to scroll through the pictures attentively. The other you had a much busier life. You seemed to be out in college parties often and other photos showed yourself in classes with many other friends. You were also quite disturbed to see that your parents were the same ones you had in your real life. Was the movie like this or did your unintentional arrival modify it?

One picture grabbed your attention more than others. It was you at a party again but what your focus was on was the boy behind you smiling happily with a bottle of beer in hands.

"Jisung?" you called for him to see and he proceeded to rush to your sides, hovering above your shoulder to see better.

Your breath cut short at the proximity as you could feel his own hit the side of your face. For a second, your mind went foggy and you turned your head around to look at him. His frown showed as much confusion as you had and you noticed his lips to be pinker than you thought.

"Is this me?" he said in a whisper, which reminded you to focus.

"So you knew who I am!" you exclaimed, almost offended he didn't tell you.

"I swear I don't recall seeing you ever," he tried to justify himself.

Felix stole the device from you and looked at the photo as well, Hyunjin leaning closer to do the same. While he couldn't figure out when this was taken as he was in the picture as well, Hyunjin seemed to have recognized the moment instantly.

"This was at Jeongin's."

"Who?" you and Jisung asked at the same time.

You looked at one another and a blush appeared on both of your faces. Hyunjin, however, didn't give a shit about your somewhat cute interaction and went on with explaining.

"Jeongin, a friend of mine. He hosted a party about a year ago with pretty much the whole cohort of freshmen."

"Oh," Felix exclaimed as the memory came back to him. "Yeah, there were people I never talked to again after that. Must have been the case for you two."

"But if I'm friends with you-" you began but were cut right away.

"We're neighbours, not friends. I don't hang out with you much, no offense."

"None taken."

Suddenly, you heard a small gasp coming from behind you. All eyes stopped on Jisung who was covering his mouth with his hand. You cocked your head to the side to incite him to speak but he shook his head and left to run to his room. You glanced at the two remaining men in search of an answer but they shrugged and continued to look through your pictures.

"Ah, look! Your most recent one dates from yesterday," Hyunjin noticed and gave you the phone back.

You scanned the screen and frowned. In the background, you could see a tuft of hair that was too similar to Jisung's for it to not be his. You were wearing the same outfit as the previous day and you were obviously only taking a cute selfie for yourself. This was without a doubt taken just before you appeared. Was this version of you an actual person? Where was she now if you were in her body at this very moment? What if she was in yours? How traumatic for her would that be if she learned she was nothing more than an extra in a Netflix film.

"I wonder where I was going," you decided to say for now, not wanting to look suspicious.

"If I had to guess, back home. You're on an internship in an accounting company this semester, thus the attire."

You were so grateful Felix knew about you enough to give you a better insight of your life. Nonetheless, this was helping you in no way to go back to your universe. You discarded the phone away from you and let your head fall on the table while mumbling a "thank you" to him.

"The school offers free therapy sessions for those in need," Hyunjin suggested, earning a bump of the elbow from his friend. "What? Sorry for trying to help."

"I can take you back to your place for now, Mina might be better than me to help you," Felix offered, ignoring Hyunjin.

"That would be great, yeah," you said gratefully, lifting your head up. "Can you take me now?" He nodded. "Good. You don't mind if I go thank Jisung first?"

"Go ahead."

The door of his room was closed which came as no surprise considering the way he left so abruptly. Still, you knocked softly and waited patiently for him to answer. It took a minute or so but he did open the door, just wide enough for you to see his face. Just when you thought you had seen him at his most embarrassed, here he was, avoiding your gaze.

"Felix is going to get me home."

He nodded quickly before muttering "That's good."

"I came to thank you again for letting me stay. Not many people are as kind as you have been to me."

He cleared his throat. "I told you, it's no problem."

"Still, thank you."

Since you were visibly making more and more uncomfortable, you didn't stay any longer and were quick to head out, not forgetting to at least wave bye to Chan.

You weren't living far from there, only a couple of streets away. On the walk to your dorm, you learned Felix and Hyunjin were living together and that they were both studying in contemporary arts at the same college you were attending. Both knew you to be the nice girl next door while Mina was much louder than you were. Needless to say, you were looking forward to meet this girl.

"You're at the end of the hallway and we're here," Hyunjin informed as he stopped in front of their place. "Let us know if you need anything."

"Thank you, guys, so much."

Felix sent you one of his warm smiles and the two of them disappeared into their home. You stared at the door in the end of the hallway slightly scared. You had no idea what to expect but, here you were. Having not much of a choice, you went ahead and unlocked the door with what Felix told you to be the key to your place before walking in.

The first thing you saw was a wide playpen with a bunny munching onto its food; Fifi. You wondered if she had the same name or not. Just besides it was a couch where a girl was lazily scrolling through her feed. Upon hearing someone coming in, her head turned to see who it was. From her face, you concluded she was relieved to see it was you. Immediately, she jumped off the couch and came to hug you tightly.

"Y/N, what the fuck! I was worried sick, where the hell were you?" she almost screamed into your ear.

Yeah, she was definitely a loud person.

"Hey..." you trailed off, unsure on what to respond.

She let go of the hug, still holding your shoulders, and gave you a skeptical look. She scanned you from up and down which made you self-conscious for a second. It was almost like she was leading her own investigation.

"Why are you so stiff?"

Upon hearing her remark, you tried to relax a little but according to her expression, this did not work. "Uh, you might want to sit down for this one."

Her eyes went wide and she grabbed you to go sit on the couch. "What? Did you meet someone and slept at their place? Did you get kidnapped?"

Gosh, she really was adamant about your whereabouts and getting answers from you. In a way, you couldn't blame her as she had been thinking for almost 24 hours that her best friend had vanished. It didn't mean this didn't overwhelm you nonetheless.

"Kind of?"

"Which one? The kidnapped part or sleeping at someone's place?"

"The second one."

She gasped in surprise. "You slept with one of your co-workers!"

You rolled her eyes at her assumption, growing tired of her already. "Mina, can you let me speak please?" She seemed to get startled by your intervention but she nodded and kept her mouth shut. "Thank you. Okay, so, where do I start? Uh, first of all, I actually don't know you."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Are you kidding? We've known each other our whole life."

"This is more complicated..."

Then, you proceeded to explain everything to her. Well, the whole amnesia story. She surprisingly sat still and listened throughout your entire monologue, expressing a couple of times her reactions with gasps and hums. When you were done, she was looking up in the air to think. You hoped what you said made enough sense so she wouldn't have any doubts.

"Han Jisung who lives with Chan, no?" she asked and you nodded. "As in Bang Chan?"

You shrugged. "I don't know his last name but I guess it was him."

"Damn, you were with these losers," she exploded in laughter.

If she really was your best friend in this world, you were beginning to question yourself on why you would hang around someone thinking this low of other people. To you, these guys couldn't be any kinder. Besides the fact their apartment was a bit trashy, you couldn't think of a single thing that would make someone call them with such names.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, honey," she started with an exhale. "They've been telling people they will become a successful group but they've been getting nothing more than a few gigs here and there. Not only that but I've heard Han can't even come up on stage."

Your heart dropped. Of course he would have stage fright, he was so insecure just by stepping foot outside of his home. Something else bugged you about her comments. She had a bittersweet tone coming with it, like she had an history with these guys.

"It doesn't make them losers..."

She scoffed. "Wow, amnesia did something to you. If you still had your memories, you would agree with me."

"I just don't understand why you'd say they're losers if they're struggling with their career. Challenges happen to everyone."

"I know but- You know what? I'll tell you after you regain your memories. For now, I'll help you get back into the real world."

If only she meant this as actually going back... If she were to have this attitude while helping you go through this, you were debating to go back to Jisung's place and let them help you instead.

However, after this uncomfortable altercation, she was being nothing but the sweetest. She went through every aspect of your life slowly, from your birth until now, and made sure you were following along. Everything you had to remember about your present self wasn't so complicated; you were an accounting student following an internship and you were a second year college student. You liked your bunny a lot (who you discovered to be named Fifi as well), your best friend was Mina and Seungmin was your favourite co-worker at your internship. As for your personality, you were pretty much the same with the exception of loving to go out and socialize.

Great. You were going to love being here.

A week or so had passed since your arrival and you were starting to panic. There was not a day where you wouldn't get homesick and miss your old life, nor there would be a moment you thought of the potential other you having to live elsewhere. This was still a mystery to you. In the little time you had to do some research about travelling through different dimensions, the only thing you would find were fictional stories or theories from crazy people that were in no way consistent with what you were experiencing.

Besides that, accounting would never be a field of career you would personally choose which made all the lot more difficult. You were lucky to have Seungmin, a bright guy who volunteered to help you adapt upon learning about your issue.

"You're getting better," he commented after reviewing your report.

"Hopefully I'll be as good as I was in no time," you sighed before letting yourself drop on your chair. "Why did I even choose accounting?"

"You'd do it with such ease, it was an obvious choice."

"Yeah, well post-amnesia me hates it."

"And post-amnesia you is done with her shift for today."

You checked the time and realized he was right. You were glad today was ending in the early afternoon, it meant you would have time to stop by at the school's library to go on with your research. Without losing another minute, you sorted your documents on the small desk that you were assigned at and grabbed your belongings.

"See you tomorrow?"

Seungmin shook his head and chuckled. "Tomorrow is Saturday."

You formed an "o" with your mouth, blushing from embarrassment. You were quick to say bye to him and walk out of the building. Luckily, the campus wasn't too far from there. Nonetheless, you had to use the GPS as you weren't used to the neighbourhood yet. You were hoping you would never get used to it, anyway.

Having to wear heels at the company, you got the habit of bringing a pair of sneakers to change into once the day was over. This way, you could walk like a normal person instead of stumbling onto your own feet.

Once you reached the school's library, you were a bit intimidated by the size of it. There were so many rows just filled with bricks of books, each one of them different than the other. How on Earth would you find what you were looking for?

"May I help you?"

Your gaze moved to the front desk where the person calling for you spoke and you jumped at the sight. While the gentleman at the computer was smiling politely at you, a quiet Jisung was seemingly sorting books behind him, doing everything he could to avoid your eyes.

"Hi, do you have some sort of search browser for the books available here?" you asked the young man.

"There's a browser available on every public computer, although I have one with me just here. I can type in the book you're looking for right now."

"Oh, that's very nice but I'm actually not looking for one book in particular."

The man held his hand up to stop you. "Let me guess, magazine issues for a research project because the teacher asked for a paper reference?"

"Uh, no."

Your answer confused him furthermore, causing him to drop his shoulders in exasperation. "You read for fun?"

"Minho," Jisung interrupted the conversation. "You could help her instead of judging."

You were pleased to know he had enough self-esteem in him to speak his mind. The two of you hadn't seen or spoken to each other since you went back home-ish and you had been wondering what he was up to. Him working at the college's library had definitely not been what you thought he'd do to make money. Still, this was only a student job so it made sense. But a library? You didn't see a single actual book in his room.

"Right," Minho cleared his throat. "I apologize, what can I look up for you?"

"I'd rather look it up by myself if you don't mind," you said, a bit embarrassed.

"No problem, the computers are behind the philosophy essays section."

You nodded your head but didn't move the slightest. While this was supposed to be a place every student would go to get their work done, you didn't know your way here. Heck, it was a miracle you even made it to the library considering you visited the campus once in the week you'd been here.

"Go straight ahead and turn left when you see the couches."

You smiled at Jisung as a thank you, although he didn't return it, and followed his directions. Soon enough, you sat down at one of the stations and turned the PC on. The screen flashed the school's logo beautifully before it changed to the log in page.

Of course, you had to get into your student account to have access to this stupid computer. If you had an account, you certainly didn't have a clue about what your infos were. You went into your phone's notes to check if the other you had noted it down at some point. When you stumbled upon a note named Passwords, you thought you held the solution to your problem. However, the note itself was private and needed another code to get in. Even by trying your phone's passcode, it stayed locked.

Decisively, the world was against you for this one. Having no other option, you opted to look for what you were searching for on your own without any catalog. If it had to take until midnight, you'd stay until midnight.

You searched one row, and this one only took forty minutes to get through. This was discouraging but you wouldn't give up just yet. And so, another row was done after another forty minutes. There wasn't a book remotely close to what you needed, it was frustrating. And so, another row, another forty minutes.

"Need something?"

You really had to stop jumping every time something took you by surprise. Your focus was lost when Jisung, who was leaning on the bookshelf, was staring at you with a concerned look.

What you weren't aware of was that he had been watching you since you stepped foot in the library. He couldn't keep his mind off you since you left and seeing you so suddenly made him quite nervous. Seeing that you were as much of a mess as he was when you were looking around for a few hours now, it was good enough to give him courage to make the first move and come up to you.

"Actually, yes. I'd look through the catalog but I don't have a student account."

"Or rather you forgot it," he corrected and you nodded. "What do you need? It's my second year working here, I know the place like the back of my hand."

"No, I really rather look into it on my own."

He sighed but didn't insist any further. "Alright, I'll log you into my account."

You let out a breathy groan, throwing your head back in relief. "You have no idea how you're saving my life right now."

And you meant every word in their literal sense, unbeknownst to him. He led you back to the computers and chose one where he logged into in no time. You wanted to cry out of joy when you saw the welcoming page pop up with the school's tools already opened for the students.

"Thank you so much, I really owe you now."

He scratched the back of his head in uneasiness. "It's nothing."

You shook your head vigorously, refusing his answer. "You're too kind for this world and I want you to know it."

A blush crept on his cheeks and he allowed himself to smile a little. "Alright, then you're welcome."

With a satisfied grin, you sat down and opened the library's browser immediately. You looked into the categories first to see if you could make a more subtle research before jumping right into the actual topic. The section Legends and Myths caught your attention and you clicked on it. A vast selection of books, magazines and essays were offered to you which almost made you want to give up on the spot. But still, nothing online was helping you so this was your last hope.

You spent a lot of time, too much time, scrolling through the catalog. So much, you hadn't realized how dark it was outside until you looked around. There was nobody left, only you. When you checked the time, it was merely 8:00 P.M. which meant you still had about three to four hours to continue. However, the growl coming from your stomach was telling to take a break and get a snack. Were you too stubborn to quit and kept on searching anyway? Yes, you were.

The sound of wheels coming your way, on the other hand, could not let you focus properly. It was weird as you thought everyone had left. That was until you saw Minho and Jisung conversing while the latter was pushing a cart labelled with a paper reading Returned Books. Minho, who wearing his school bag, waved at his colleague before heading out, seemingly having finished his shift for the day.

"Jisung?" you called out once the man was alone.

He was startled to see you still at the same spot as earlier but he came your way, leaving the cart behind him. "What's up?"

"Is there a section about scientific research or something like that?"

"What kind of scientific research?" he perked an eyebrow at you. "Aren't you in accounting?"

"Uh..." you trailed off. This was too suspicious to your liking, you had to do without his help. "Actually, forget it. I wouldn't want to bother you while you still have stuff to do," you justified while gesturing the cart from afar.

Jisung wasn't having any of your bullshit. Sure, you were sweet and all but because you had been there for almost the entirety of his shift, he was growing skeptical of you. Your sudden amnesia was one thing but it had been a week, surely you wouldn't be in a library for hours not getting any actual schoolwork done if you didn't have something to hide. As observant as he was, he noticed all of your quirks. All of them were so similar to his own, meaning you were nervous. He didn't want to accuse you of anything, he genuinely wanted to help. Nonetheless, your behaviour caused him to doubt.

Or maybe was it just an excuse he was making up to get closer to you...

"The cart can wait," he argued.

And maybe having one person knowing about your situation might actually come handy. And if you had to pick someone to be aware of it, it would be Jisung. You weren't close enough with Seungmin and Mina seemed to have a tendency of gossiping and talking too much. Jisung was ideal. Plus, the man was the protagonist of the movie, a movie you weren't close to have finished watching. Having the opportunity to get a full insight into his personality wasn't an opportunity you'd pass on.

"Uh, okay," you started, preparing yourself mentally. "I- Can you promise me to not tell a word about this to anyone?"

His expression changed instantly, coming from a frown to a surprise. "What are you about to confess? A crime or something?"

"No, but it's still a pretty big thing and- Just promise me you won't tell a soul about it and that you won't judge me. And that you'll believe me."

His frown came back but he didn't seem as taken aback. "Uh, sure, yeah. I'll keep it to myself."

"Thanks... Okay, uh, where do I begin?"

"Hey," he said while putting a hand on your shoulder, a move that surprised the both of you. "I promise I won't say a thing, you can trust me."

This seemed to do the trick and you calmed down. "I don't have amnesia, I am perfectly fine in terms of memory. I just- I'm not from here."

"What do you mean?"

You were so fucking thankful he didn't accuse you of lying right away. "Do you know the theory about the universe having multiple copies of itself? Hence, many versions of a person?"

"I've seen it in movies."

"Yeah, except this is pretty fucking real for me right now and I somehow managed to come into a parallel universe in my other self's body."

You decided to spare him from telling him he's a movie's character. This was already a lot of information to process for him, telling him he wasn't real would be crushing him.

For a moment, he didn't respond. The frown never left his face. If anything, it got more defined. The longer he wasn't answering, the more you were getting nervous. Did you fuck it up by telling him (half) the truth?

"I saw one book about it, but I'm not sure if it applies to your situation."

Good, he didn't call you crazy. "Can you show it to me, please?"

He immediately led you to a section that was the furthest away from the entrance. It was a bit sketchy as it visibly wasn't frequented a lot. His eyes scanned a specific shelf while his fingers ran through the books. Eventually, he picked one out that had a hard cover with nothing on it other than the title: The Multiverse and its travelers.

"Here, hopefully it'll do."

You took it from him and read the back of it to figure out if it was fit for you or not. When you saw the phrase "seizures and blackouts tend to occur before the shift itself", you determined it would do the job. This was the closest you had gotten to knowing what happened, you had to read this.

"It's perfect, thank you."

"Great, I can enter it under your student account now," he smiled as he was about to go back to the front desk.

You shook your head immediately, grabbing his forearm to stop him. "I can't rent this. What if the other Y/N or other people see this? They'll have questions."

He sighed but he got your point. "I can put it under my name if it'll make you more comfortable."

"Please."

It didn't take him long to enter everything in the system before he gave the book back to you. You were so grateful he didn't react as bad as you expected. Not just that, he was even willing to give you a hand.

"Now that this is done, can you explain what happened to you to have travelled universes?"

Okay, maybe he wasn't totally chill with your situation, which was totally understandable. Before you could speak, your stomach made, yet, another grumble to tell you that you must eat.

"We can do this over a snack," he suggested.

"Aren't you working right now?"

He shrugged, unfazed. "Nobody's here and I can empty the returned books tomorrow."

In no time at all, he put the cart back behind the desk, clocked out of his shift, locked the doors, and walked you to the nearest convenience store. He insisted on paying for your drink and ramen, saying you must be exhausted from the day. Although you wanted to tell him otherwise, he wasn't wrong.

And that's how you were now sitting on the benches of the school's empty football field with only a couple of lights for you to see around.

"Alright, go ahead with the questions," you breathed out before taking a bite of your noodles.

He let out a chuckle as he watched you slurp. "Which one do I even ask first?"

"Whatever comes to your mind."

"Okay, uh... Where are you from?"

You hummed. "I actually don't know what to call it. Earth, obviously, but it's just another version of this one."

"Is it different here?"

"Not really, it's the same year and all but my other self is living a completely different type of life."

"How come?"

"I don't party that much, nor do I like anything having to do with accounting."

He let out a laugh. "I'd say I'm the same."

"Yeah, staying at home is ten times better."

"I agree," he acquiesced before taking a bite of his own meal. "What happened before you got here?"

You shrugged. "I tripped, thought I hit my head, and here I am."

"That's odd."

"Tell me about it," you said in a scoff. "How was I when you met me, anyway?"

"Do you mean you as in you or your other self?"

You frowned. "I thought you didn't know my other self."

He sighed. "I do know her, I just forgot about her. At the party, we actually hooked up but when she learned Mina had a feud with Chan, she told me to forget this even happened."

This explained many things, especially why Mina had such a dislike to the three men. You also began to wonder how did Jisung get in bed with the other you. Before your mind could go much further with that, you stopped yourself and let out a nervous laugh.

"Well, it worked," you chuckled awkwardly. "But yeah, how was I last week in front of that playground?"

He bit in lips while thinking, one of his habits you thought to be adorable. "From afar, you were walking around normally but then, you just kind of froze and began to have a panic attack or something."

"And you were kind enough to come to my rescue," you saw with a dreamy sigh, making him roll his eyes.

"Make fun of me all you want, you're happy I'm the one who rescued you."

"I am," you affirmed.

The blush on his face didn't go unnoticed by you, which also made your face red. Gosh, he really had to be this stinking cute? You had to muster all of your energy to not pinch his plump cheeks.

"Your name is really Y/N, right?" he asked just to be sure.

"That part is true."

"Okay, good."

Unlike other times, the silence that slowly settled between you two was rather comforting. Maybe it was because you had been mostly honest with him, or maybe because he was managing to get more comfortable around you. Either or both ways, you were content with how sereine it was.

"This is fucked up," he commented.

"I know."

As a new silence took over, Jisung's eyebrows furrowed as he stared into his ramen cup, deep in thoughts. While he was having what was probably a mental debate, you gave yourself permission to stare closely at his physical traits. He was hard to read and complex, which was mainly what made him so fascinating to you in the first place. His character was developed as someone so real and sincere, you were almost disappointed he wasn't actually real. His bead-like soft eyes, his perfect glowing skin, his hair that-

"My mom died," he informed you out of the blue.

Your heartbeat quickened all of the sudden. While you processed what he just said, the image of her death came back to you. "I'm sorry," was all you found the energy to say.

"That playground we were at last week was where she was hit by a car. I was so young, it was painful."

Sadness rushed through your body as you were now getting a full image of his emotions. You never expected him to be transparent with you about it, even less since you didn't know each other so well.

"Why are you telling me this? This seems to be pretty personal."

He smiled sadly. "I think she's the reason why I wanted to help you then. I felt her around me, telling me to save someone else for her."

"That's very sweet," you commented in a soft voice.

"It is," he laughed out. "I miss her a lot."

"I would too if I was you."

Slowly, the night came as you began to hear crickets around you. Deciding this was enough for tonight, the two of you left the school grounds. Jisung was generous once more when he offered to walk you home. He would lie if he said his heart didn't pinch when you refused. Nonetheless, you parted ways and began to walk in opposite directions on the dark streets. You were getting further away from each other when you decided to turn on your heels and run back to him. As he heard you come back, he turned around, watching you until you got face to face with him.

"Can I have your number? Since you're the only person who knows about my struggle," you explained, even if you used it as an excuse to keep contact with him.

"Yeah, sure. We can meet a few times to search for a way back together," he suggested which made you grin.

You might not have found a way home that day, but you found a friend.

Mina was still staring at you with disgust while you were getting ready to go to Jisung's place. Apparently, Changbin and Chan were going to a party that night which left the apartment to himself. This was merely three days after your interaction at the library and you were still somehow stressed out about meeting up with him. The fact Mina was throwing a few comments at you about him didn't help.

"I'm simply trying to understand what you find interesting in him," she groaned.

"He's done a lot for me since the incident, I owe him."

She sighed in despair. "Alright but if he breaks your heart like Chan did to me, don't be surprised!"

You also took the weekend as an opportunity to get to know your roommate and her relationship she had with Chan. It had taken a toll on her emotionally, so much that she had no intention in being polite with whatever — or whoever — that was in relation with him.

"Don't become besties with him or I'll seriously consider cutting you out of my life," she added.

You deadpanned at her. "You wouldn't actually."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course not but I wouldn't be happy with it."

With that being said, you left the apartment and made your way to Jisung's place with your bag hanging on your shoulder, full since it contained your belongings plus his clothes you had forgotten to give him back. You were starting to know your way around which you didn't consider as a good sign. This meant you were getting used to this place and it just couldn't be like this.

The moment you knocked on Jisung's front door, it slung open for him to welcome you with a smile. He had seemingly cleaned a little around but it was still messy, as expected.

"So, I looked up some stuff online and I'm surprised you didn't see what was on there. It looks like many people believe to have experienced it," he said before turning his laptop's screen to your direction.

"I did see those and it just sounds like people dreaming of another universe before "travelling". For me, I just tripped."

His shoulders dropped. "I see."

"I appreciate the effort, though," you reassured, feeling a bit bad.

He invited you to get to his room where he could make some more research on his PC while you'd have the bed to read the book comfortably. Before going there, he didn't forget to make some hot beverages for the two of you as you were expecting for this to last a long while.

His bed was as comfortable as you remembered, you had almost missed it. Not that your own bed in this world wasn't nice, it just felt a bit too firm. Jisung's, however, was soft and warm. As you began your reading session, the only thing you could hear was Jisung typing on his keyboard and clicking with his mouse. It wasn't annoying in itself, but it was too distracting for you to focus.

When you realized you had been reading the same sentence for the fifth time, you decided to do something about it. Getting up, you tapped on his shoulder which made him take his headphones off.

"Did you find something?" he immediately questioned but you shook your head.

"Your typing is kind of distracting on its own. Do you have music you can play in the background?"

He blinked a few times before nodding. "I was listening to my own stuff, actually."

Oh, right. Jisung was described as a struggling musician in the synopsis, you had almost forgotten about that. This suddenly made him all the more interesting than the search and he definitely saw it in your eyes. Hesitantly, he disconnected his headset and plugged his speakers in before opening his files. There were so many audiotapes, you were stunned. To think all of this were his creations.

"I don't think I've told you but the guys and I are music majors."

"You didn't tell me but I heard about it, yeah."

"Well, we've been experiencing with sounds and beats to find what fits us. This is all of it, pretty much. We're trying to make an actual career out of it but none of the calls we've made have come back," he said as he let out a heavy breath, one of disappointment. "I'm actually starting to consider giving up on that."

You scoffed. "Nonsense, you're great!"

"How do you know? You've never heard anything by me."

Not exactly. The clips of him in his room struggling to make music in the film had a few samples of his songs playing and you did remember them to be very good. Of course, he would never know this, so you had to lie.

"I haven't but I'm confident you're very talented."

He chuckled, embarrassed. "Now I'm just nervous to show you if you have such high expectations."

"Don't be."

He scrolled through his files for a bit in search of the perfect song to show you first. There were many that were done with the other guys. Still, he felt like he wanted to show something that was 100% him. Something raw that you could relate to. The cursor stopped for an instant on his track Alien. Considering the context, this must have been the fittest one for you. So he clicked on it, letting it play through the speakers.

And just as he thought, this could not have been a better choice. From the first note, you were entirely immersed into the melody, bopping your head along with it. And when he began to sing, damn you were melting. Not only were his lyrics so personal and true, his voice had a melodic effect that made you want to squeal. Seriously, why was he struggling with his career if this was what he was putting out?

When the song ended, the only thing you could do was let out an emotional sigh. "You, guys, have so much talent."

He scratched the side of his arm sheepishly before shaking his head. "That was just me," he corrected.

"All of it?" you asked with admiration.

"All of it, from the sound to the singing and the lyrics."

He wasn't one to brag usually, but if it impressed you and interested you, there was nothing wrong with showing off a little. This information had visibly made you more fascinated by his work and you didn't hesitate to steal his mouse and put the cursor over another track.

You did this for a while, playing one song after the other. You were as amazed as you were by the first one every single time. This eventually made Jisung so shy about his work, he had to force you to stop even if you argued you wanted to listen to more. Forcefully, he kept you away from his computer and put a random playlist on for what you had originally requested, which was ambiance music.

You crossed your arms and pouted. "Is it so bad to want to listen to raw talent?"

"When the artist is right in front of you, yes. Now, get back to work."

You snorted at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Nevertheless, you still opened the book and continued to read. The first couple of pages weren't telling anything new. It mostly consisted of summing up what was already known of travelling through the multiverse, meaning not much. Although the research this author made was impressive, this had in no way the exact thing you were looking for. And as your reading kept on going, the more discouraged you were growing. There was a point you thought of abandoning the book. However, there were still too many pages left to risk missing something out.

"Got anything?" Jisung finally spoke after about an hour of research.

"Nothing, what about you?"

"Apart from a few people on Reddit talking about their shifting experience in their sleep, nothing."

You scoffed. "Yeah, not relevant to my case."

You closed the book and let out a loud yawn, catching Jisung's attention. "Tired?"

"A little," you shrugged. "Are you?"

"No, but this is getting tiring if I'm being honest," he chuckled and you smiled as to affirm you agreed. "How about we take a break and order some food?"

"No need to ask me twice."

In the time of a heartbeat, he jumped off his chair and ran out of his room, leaving you chuckling at his demeanor. Jisung was cute, you couldn't argue with that. Even more so because he seemed to like food so much, something you could relate to yourself. Before he would come back, you decided to look around some more, although you had analyzed the place quite a lot on your first day here. His room was cleaner, probably because he knew in advance that you'd be coming. For once, his closet was wide open which gave you a good opportunity to check what he wore on the daily basis. While you had only seen him in casual clothing, what you could see through his clothes were great fashion items. A shelf was filled with different kinds of hats and a whole section was dedicated to jackets of all sorts.

"It's always the fictional characters," you muttered to yourself, thinking about how none of the men from your world had this much taste in their choice of wearing.

"Alright," a loud voice said while coming in the room, almost startling you.

Jisung, unlike what you thought he'd do, sat next to you with a few flyers in hands from restaurants around the neighbourhood. Ramen, sushi, BBQ, fried chicken; there were too many, you felt a bit overwhelmed at the options.

"What do you want?" you insisted on him choosing.

"We could go for ramen," he shrugged before composing the number to make his order. "What would you like?"

"Anything, I'm not picky."

He gave you a nod before focusing back on the call as it seemed that someone answered. "Is this Felix?"

Felix? Why the hell was he calling him all of the sudden?

"Hey, man, can I have two of my usual?" Jisung continued to speak. "In thirty? Okay, good... Yeah... I'll tell him... Bye," he ended the call.

"You called Felix?" you asked.

He frowned. "Yeah, obviously, he–" he was about to say until he realized you actually didn't know. "My bad," he coughed out, embarrassed. "He works at the best ramen place near campus so let's say I get a few free stuff when it's his shift."

"Oh, okay," you said with a nod.

An awkward silence settled as you noticed him starting to fiddled with the hem of his shirt, looking at anywhere but you. Although you always found him adorable when he got shy, you weren't going to let this be too uncomfortable for him. He was already helping you a lot, this was the least you could do.

"Do you want to watch something?"

He stopped his fiddling and looked up at you. "Do you think you have the same films and shows where you're from?"

You frowned. "Good question. Show me what you have and I'll tell you if it's the case."

He went to take his laptop and turn it on before sitting back next to you. He shyly gestured for you to get comfortable and lay with your back against the wall. You complied and, soon, he positioned himself next to you. You could see he was a bit nervous but he didn't let it show through too much. He was quick to open his Netflix account, which you thought was nice that the platform was here as well, and he scrolled through the few movies and series that were appearing. From the looks of it and based on his recommendations, he was watching a lot of anime movies and series.

"Yeah, it's very similar to what I have back home," you affirmed. "It's odd, how the hell is it the same?"

Jisung frowned as he also realized how bizarre it was. "Maybe you are in the same world as me?"

You shook your head. "How would you explain this other me having an entire different life than me while having the same name and the same bunny I have? Heck, she has the same parents."

Maybe you really did modify the movie by coming here. For the whole part of you having your own life, at least. As for the content of cinematography, it was logical that a movie would put the same cultural references to make more realistic to the audience. How were you going to explain this to Jisung, though?

"I don't think I have the brain to think about this too much, it's kind of freaking me out," he gulped. "I'm actually just starting to realize how fucked up your thing is..."

Your eyes went wide. "No, please, don't think I'm crazy..." you pleaded.

"I don't know, Y/N, this whole thing is weird as fuck."

"I swear I'm not making this up, I find it as bizarre as you do."

He shook his head. "No, I believe you. It's just, how the fuck?" he trailed off.

You only responded with a faint smile as to show him you weren't understanding this any more than he was. Thankfully, the moment wasn't long and you moved on by suggesting on watching a Ghibli movie. You loved them, he seemed to enjoy them, this was a perfect choice.

As the film was starting, the bell rang and Jisung paused it to go greet the delivery person, which you assumed to be Felix. You were confirmed to be right when the man himself walked in the room behind Jisung with two plastic bags. It took him a moment to take in your presence in his friend's bedroom.

"Damn, I knew this was going to happen after–"

He was interrupted mid-sentence when Jisung put his hand over his mouth. "Yes, this is a great reunion but we're just taking the food and you can be on your way."

"But–" Felix started when he managed to push the hand away, only to get cut off again.

"Felix," he gave him a look. "How much was it?"

Finally understanding he wouldn't get answers tonight, the two proceeded to payment while you watched them, still waiting patiently with the movie on pause. You chuckled upon seeing Jisung's slightly pink cheeks as he crawled back to your side with the food in hands.

"You two, lovebirds, enjoy your date," Felix said in a teasing voice before winking at Jisung.

As the boy left the flat, Jisung couldn't contain his embarrassment any more than this. "I swear to God I will kick his ass next time I see him," you hear him mumble under his breath.

You shrugged. "He has a point, it does look like a date night for a couple."

He cleared his throat. "I suppose it does a little... Anyway, this is what I got. I hope you like sea food."

"Not a favourite," you admitted which caused his shoulders to drop a bit. "I like it, though."

This seemed to cheer him back up and he happily took the bowls out of the bag. Next to his bed was a tray he kept close for occasions like these. Well, not the having-a-girl-over part but rather the watching-films-in-bed part.

"Fancy," you commented once he had everything settled and ready in front of you.

"Only the best for your stay here, miss," he joked and then proceeded to click on play.

You would've lied if you said the ramen wasn't good because this might have been the best meal you've had in years. It felt so perfect being in the comfort of a bed with hot soup while watching one of your favourite movies. Not only that, but there was this cute ass man next to you loving it as much as you were. This was quite a turn of events.

Jisung was a gentleman for taking your dishes out of the room after you were done enjoying the food. This meant that, for the remainder of the film, there was only a slight gap separating the two of you. Your focus no longer on eating, the only thing you could think of was the realization of Jisung's presence.

Needless to say, he was no better than you were. His eyes were still stuck on the screen but he could feel his head move instinctively towards your direction. It was much stronger than his free will, he was gravitating to you. As much as it scared the shit out of him, he was surprised to be loving it so much. You were easy to be around of, he didn't need to waste his social battery on you.

"Are you cold?" he asked as the characters on screen kept quiet for this scene.

You shivered a little, not having understood you were, in fact, cold. "A little."

"I- Do you... want to use the blanket?" he asked with uncertainty as he stared at the bedsheets beneath the both of you.

With a shy nod as a response, he invited you off the mattress so he could actually pull the covers down to allow you to make yourself comfortable. As you sat back down under the blankets, you stared at him in confusion upon noticing he sat still in a very stiff position on the covers of his side.

"This is ridiculous, come under here," you snorted at him but he didn't budge.

"That would be weird, wouldn't it?" he said in a small voice, making him too cute for your own sake.

"It is if you're making it weird. Don't question it, come on."

While your boldness took him aback for a second, he obliged the second after and, carefully, positioned himself in a much more comfortable way. Still, he was trying to draw himself away as far away from your body as possible. Of course, you understood the thought process of his actions but he was so far to the point he had to lean towards you to see the screen better. Even if you were thankful he was being respectful, this was simply ridiculous.

"Jisung," you sighed.

"What?"

Seeing that he wasn't moving a tiny bit, you took it upon yourself and scooted closer to his body, bringing the laptop with you before laying it on both of your legs. His body stiffed at the proximity and you thought of noticing him gulp.

"Is this okay?"

He looked back at you and nodded, his breath now cutting short from how close your faces were. If he had it in him, he would have kissed you right there and then. But sadly, this was not what happened and Jisung concentrated back to the movie.

A routine was set quite rapidly after that night. Every once in a while, Jisung would call you up so you could make some progress in your research — which I can affirm was not advancing as fast as you wanted it to — and also just hang out. Whether you wanted this to happen or not, you were close to him and he became someone dear to you. Two months and a half after your arrival and you were closer to him than anyone else even, you dared to think, anyone back home.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you snorted at Mina as soon as she stepped foot in the office you and Seungmin were working in.

"Tonight is party time, baby," she cheered. "Soohee is hosting the event of the year."

You exchanged glances with Seungmin before looking back at her. "What does that even mean?"

She deadpanned at you. "Soohee, that senior in theater class."

"The girl you told me we should both hate because she got the spot you wanted in that play?"

"So you do listen!"

You rolled your eyes, resulting to Seungmin laughing. You ignored his antics. "What are you implying here, Mina?"

"You're coming."

"I'm not."

"Please!" she pleaded with a pout. "Seungmin can come as well if that can convince you."

He raised his hand in disapproval. "First of all, I am invited already. Second of all, do I have a say in this?"

"No," Mina replied with a cheeky smile. "Come, Y/N, please. I haven't been out with my favourite girl since her incident and I miss getting drunk with her."

"Yeah, you do owe her that," Seungmin agreed to which you answered with a glare.

"No one asked for your opinion."

"But it is greatly appreciated," she said with a wink.

Looking back and forth at the both of them, you let out a huge groan, dropping your arms on your sides. "Fine, you win. I guess it will help with getting my mind off work and all."

She squealed before rushing to you to engulf your body in a tight hug. It was obvious you were going to regret it but did you really have a choice at this point?

"I'm done in an hour, I can continue working on your file if you want to leave in advance to get ready," Seungmin offered much to your dismay.

Mina's eyes glowed at his suggestion. "You're an angel, thank you so much."

"Nonsense!" you exclaimed. "I'll finish up with you, you can't be doing all of this on your own."

Mina tugged your arm to get you up from your seat. "Y/N," she whined.

Seungmin chuckled at the interaction. "Go, I'll be fine," he assured.

"Okay," you said reluctantly with a grateful smile.

You and Mina then rushed out of the building back to your apartment. The time was only 4 o'clock in the afternoon, and the party wasn't going to start in another two hours or so. But Mina was insistant on getting you ready and gossiping. Yes, gossiping.

As she had just sat you down on a chair in front of the mirror in the bathroom, about to curl your hair, she was giving you a look you were not liking. "So?" she said while wiggling one of her eyebrows.

"What?" you responded cluelessly while sipping onto your bubble tea.

She gave you another knowing look. "Oh, please, don't act like you don't know what I am referring to."

"Jisung?"

"Obviously."

You sighed. "He's helping me with some work, nothing more."

"You could have asked me," she shrugged, insinuating how actually hurt she was for not being as close to you as she used to. "I'm great with school work."

"I know but Jisung is... He just knows some stuff."

She scoffed. "Sure, he does. Just admit you asked for his help because you like the boy."

You got flustered very easily, bending your head onwards a little. Mina immediately replaced your head so she could continue to style your hair, inevitably exchanging looks with her through the mirror.

"Y/N," she insisted once more.

"It's not like that."

"If you say so," she said although it was clear she wasn't believing you. "I'm just trying to warn you. These guys are no good news."

"You say this because of Chan."

"I'm not," she argued.

Whether she wanted to admit it or not, her feelings were only getting the best of her. In a way, you were glad she was trying her best to protect you. At the same time, you'd seen no sign as to why you should be wary of Jisung. So far, he was someone sincere and honest, someone you really could rely on. It was hard for you to even think of the possibility of him hurting you.

"What if I like him?" you questioned.

She pondered for a second, visibly troubled by your question, but she answered. "Then I'll be very sad for you."

The remainder of time before the party was a bit awkward. You silently agreed to not speak on the matter anymore, so it was mostly small talk about what kind of products she was using to make your skin glow. It was hard to deny, she had the trick in terms of getting ready for events.

After bickering for a while about what you were to wear, you settled on a casual shirt with jeans while she chose a skirt for herself. You weren't planning on staying there for that long, anyway.

"Bye, my love," you cooed at your rabbit, earning a heavy sigh from your friend. "Hey! Let me love my bunny!"

"Alright, alright," she rolled her eyes. "Come on, now. We don't want to be late."

Soohee was the kind of girl who'd get anything from her parents as long as she kept her grades up. She was an excellent student, meaning she had literally everything she'd ask for. One of them was to have her own house near campus. Yes, her parents were that rich.

So no need to say how stunned you were when you arrived in front of the literal mansion. The music playing inside could already be heard from where you were and you spotted many students walking in and out of the place. This was worth to be in a movie. Funny enough, it was a movie. You began to wonder if this party would occur in the actual film. Probably not, since Jisung wasn't the type of person to go out.

"You're looking gorgeous, ladies," you heard coming from your right.

You smiled at Seungmin before enveloping him into a hug. "You don't look too bad yourself, Mr. Kim," you complimented.

"So," he let out after breaking away from your embrace. "This is what the big deal is about."

"Fancy, isn't it?" Mina said excitedly. "Let's go inside, I need a good drink."

Before you could say something, she was already heading towards the entrance. You and Seungmin couldn't do anything else but follow her. While you didn't feel at ease so much, you were happy to see a familiar face as soon as you walked in.

"Hyunjin?" you called him out.

The man had his arm wrapped around Soohee's shoulder when he spotted you. "Hey! Y/N, right?"

"That's me," you chuckled.

Soohee looked back and forth at the two of you. "You two know each other?"

Hyunjin shrugged. "A friend of a friend of a friend... We met each other a couple of times, nothing more," he explained, seemingly trying to reassure his partner. "Y/N, this is my girlfriend Soohee."

"I know, you're kind of a big name around here," you said to the girl.

"Yeah," she said sheepishly. "Nice to meet you! Any friend of Hyunjin is welcomed here."

Mina nudged your arm, a sign she wasn't too fond of your newfound friend. Nonetheless, she greeted the girl happily as if they had been friends for years. She was a lot better than you in faking kindness.

"I'm glad to see you made it," Soohee said with a smile.

"I could not miss it for the world," Mina said through her teeth.

The couple left to greet more people coming in, leaving your trio together. Mina, who hadn't enjoyed this interaction, hurried herself to go get something to drink — you and Seungmin following her again. The counter had tons of sorts of drinks. Some had questionable colours but most looked tasty as hell. Assuming Mina knew what to take, you picked a cup of the same drink as hers. Seungmin went ahead with getting himself a beer from the cooler near the counter.

"That girl is so annoyingly nice, I hate it," Mina spat out in-between sips.

"Now, don't be so harsh on the girl. We're in her house after all," Seungmin tried to resonate her.

She shrugged. "Sure. Y/N, I'm going to the other room if you want to come with me."

"What other room?" you asked, confused.

"The room at the back is the biggest of the house where interesting stuff happen."

You looked at Seungmin for advice but he shrugged, letting you choose for the three of you. You ended up following her lead since she was the expert in social events like these. She was right, the room was so much bigger and organized as to make a few beer pong stations in the middle while couches were put against the wall for those who preferred sitting down. Mina didn't wait for you when she heard that a new game of beer pong was starting and she rushed to say she and you would play.

"Oh, great," you mumbled to yourself but Seungmin heard you as clear as day.

"Go have fun," he chuckled but received a glare from you.

"Seungmin, want to join our team?" Mina yelled out at him, causing him to sigh.

"Come on, let's go have fun," you copied him teasingly and it was his turn to glare at you.

You took his hand despite his protests and joined Mina at the table. She was already setting the cups ready for the game and you lost no time in giving her a hand.

"Oh, Y/N?" you heard a familiar voice say.

Looking up, you were pleasantly surprised to see Changbin grinning at you. "Hey, Bin."

At the sight of the man, Mina's eyes went wide open. "Fuck, don't tell me..."

The worst she was expecting happened when Chan joined his friend's side. He looked as troubled by Mina's presence as she was by his. You felt like you shouldn't be there, their staring contest was a bit much for you.

"Do you still want to play?" you asked her in a worried voice.

"Why wouldn't I want to play anymore?" Mina acted as if nothing was wrong.

Chan let out a chuckle. "Alright, if you say so."

"You don't believe me, Christopher?"

His jaw clenched but he remained calm. "I didn't say the opposite."

"You're missing a player," Seungmin pointed out.

"Are we?" Changbin cheekily said.

Almost on cue, another man joined the lot as he placed himself next to Chan. As soon as he saw you, Jisung froze. While he didn't want to come to this party originally, he certainly did not expect you to be there. Even less dressed up like you were. That shirt of yours exposed so much of your skin and curves, he could feel the sweat on his forehead.

"My bad," Seungmin said upon seeing Jisung.

Your gaze lingered on him for longer than it should. While it was the others' turn to play, the two of you were exchanging a few looks with each other. It was either funny faces or one of you mouthing something the other couldn't understand. At one point, you were growing frustrated to no be able to decipher what he was trying to tell you. He chuckled as he saw the frown form on your face.

"Cute," he mouthed but you were still clueless.

"Uh?"

Yeah, he gave up. You were not the best at lip-reading, it wasn't your fault. Instead of repeating himself like he had done for a while now, he winked at you. That was new. Not knowing how to react, your face went red as you attempted to look at anywhere but him. He grinned at himself, satisfied by your reaction. You were too adorable, he hated it.

Your team ended up losing, much to Mina's disappointment. The girl had drank so much from the game only, you were growing worried about her physical state. Despite that, her fury against Chan was much stronger than a couple of drinks and she rushed after him once the game was over.

"I should follow her, right?" you said to Seungmin.

"Yeah, definitely," he affirmed which was all it took for you to go after her.

As you got closer, you reached out to grab her wrist but she broke free harshly. "Christopher Bang Chan!" she called out.

You winced in embarrassment, feeling bad for her. Chan immediately turned around, eyes growing bigger while Mina threw herself onto him. Luckily, he was quick to catch her.

"Hey, maybe you should sit down for a minute, yeah?" he said softly to her but she was not listening.

"You're such an ass, embarrassing me all the fucking time," she claimed.

You felt a nudge on your arm and let out a sigh of relief when you saw Jisung by your side. You had been meaning to go see him once you made sure Mina was alright. Clearly, this was not how things were going.

"Maybe we should leave them some privacy," Jisung suggested.

"But Mina is obviously not okay," you argued.

"Chan is with her, it'll be fine."

He took your hand and, reluctantly, you agreed to follow him outside to get some fresh air. The night was just a little breezy, but it was perfect for this kind of social gathering. There was, unsurprisingly, an inground pool along with a jacuzzi and a few outdoor couches. A little fire was lit further away from the house where some guys you didn't know were conversing in laughs. You were glad to see that none of them had a drink nearby, meaning it wouldn't turn into a disaster.

Jisung led you to one of the couches and sat with you. You had not noticed until then but he brought you a drink along with his. You thanked him as he offered it to you and you sipped in silence while watching the other students mess around. Some couples were making out in front of everyone, groups of friend were dancing together, others were simply catching up... Somehow, it was calmer outside than what was happening in the house.

"I never thought I'd see you here," Jisung informed with a small laugh.

"I could say the same about you. What are you even doing here?" you asked, genuinely curious.

"Soohee has some friends who work in an entertainment company. Chan thought it'd be a good idea to make some contacts within the industry so we can get somewhere with our stuff," he explained without much enthusiasm.

"I suppose things are still not taking off?"

He scoffed with a small smile. "We've been putting music out for a while. Shouldn't we at least have established a bit of a fanbase yet?"

"I'm a fan," you grinned widely.

"It's different, the real Y/N wouldn't like our stuff. Besides, you're my friend. That doesn't count."

You tried to ignore the hurt his comment caused to your heart. "What tells you she wouldn't have liked it? And, sure, I'm your friend but I'm honest. I would have told you if your music was trash."

He smiled thankfully but you still saw a hint of sadness in his eyes. "I really appreciate it. Still, you're too nice and you might just be trying to cheer me up right now."

"Fine, guilty," you sighed. "I am trying to cheer you up but I'm sincere. I love your music."

He let out a heavy breath before taking your hand, rubbing the top of it softly with his thumb. "Thank you."

"It's nothing, I'm being truthful," you said while raising your shoulders.

"What about you? Why did you come here?" he said, letting go of your hand to take another sip of his drink.

You tried to hide the fact you missed his touch already and cleared your throat. "Mina."

This was all the explanation he needed. "She would have been too suspicious of you if you didn't go to a party with her at some point."

"I know, that makes me want to go home even more honestly."

He choked up on his drink at your statement. You panicked for a second, patting his back to make sure he was okay. Once his coughing stopped he looked at you right in the eye.

"That much?" he asked in an almost hurt voice.

You gibbered for a bit, unsure as to why he was reacting this way. "I mean, kind of? As much as I love it here, I do miss my family and my actual bed," you tried to joke but he didn't laugh with you.

"Minho's not working this Tuesday if you want to come at the library. We could do more digging into the books," he suggested.

"Oh, sure. Actually, that'd be perfect. Thank you, Ji."

Your smile pained him even more. Of course, he couldn't blame you for wanting to go back home, he would have felt the same. However, there was something about you he became addictive of. Whether it was your being, your presence, your ability to make him feel comfortable so easily... All of it became something he couldn't imagine losing. There was something else within you, a spark. The last time he saw one like it was with his mother.

"Hey," you called for him. "Are you okay?"

Remembering where he was, he gulped and got up. "Sorry, I have to go."

And just like that, he went back inside without a word. You watched him, confused, until his shadow disappeared among the other figures around him. You wanted to follow him but not knowing what had caused him to leave so abruptly held you off. Was he mad at you? And what for? You couldn't bear with imagining you had caused him pain. Hesitantly, you got up and walked towards the back door. Only, you never reached the back door.

"Ouch!" you yelled out when your body collided with a frame bigger than your own.

"Oh my Gosh, Y/N, I'm so sorry," the person immediately apologized.

While you had technically never met him before, you recognized Jeongin from the pictures in your phone. "No, don't worry about it. I wasn't looking."

"But I kind of spilled my drink on you," he chuckled, embarrassed. "And you spilled yours too."

You looked at your empty cup and groaned in annoyance. "Great."

"Do you want my hoodie to cover the stain?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, just give it back to me next time we see each other," he said with a bright smile. "Talking about that, I haven't seen you in a while."

You gratefully put his hoodie on and followed as he was walking back inside to get himself a new cup. "Yeah, I haven't been myself lately let's say."

"Beer? Punch? Sangria?" he asked while pointing at the different beverages.

"Sangria," you picked out and he gave it to you before picking one for himself.

"Yeah, Mina told me you had an amnesia episode or something?"

"Or something... I'm better now, though. Well, I think so."

He let out a laugh. "You do seem good. I assume you remembered me since you didn't look so confused when I went on about not having seen you in a while."

"Yeah, I do. It's a bit blurry but it's coming back to me slowly."

"Good, I'm glad. Did you go to a doctor to check it out?"

Oh. That was suspicious, wasn't it? Claiming to have amnesia without getting a professional to take a look at it. Your heart began to race as anxiety spread through your body. What if Jeongin was to uncover your act? What would happen then?

"I brought her to one the first day."

You thanked whoever who had brought Jisung near to save you. You wouldn't be able to explain how relieved you felt at this moment.

"Oh, that's good," Jeongin nodded. "Jisung, isn't it?"

He nodded. "Do you mind if I steal her from you?"

He sent the both of you a knowing look and didn't protest before walking away to elsewhere. As Jisung watched him leave, he sighed as he was about to nag you for not being careful. However, as soon as his focus was back on you, he froze in place when you dropped into his arms. It wasn't too noticeable but he could feel your body shaking.

"Thank fucking God, you were there," you breathed out. "I thought you were mad and I was going to look for you but I bumped into him and then I-"

"Hey," he stopped you. "I'm not mad at you, you don't have to explain anything to me." He pulled away from you but still had a grip on your shoulders. "How about we stick together for tonight?"

You nodded in agreement which he responded with his boxy smile. For a second — although it felt like minutes —, you couldn't see anything else but him. There was no way to describe how you felt around him. It was a mix of safety, happiness, comfort, nervosity, etc. All of these feelings, and more, altogether.

"You're pretty," you unconsciously let yourself slip out.

Jisung's cheeks had a faint pink colour to them but it didn't seem to bother him. "I think you're the pretty one between us," he corrected.

You shook your head and got closer to his face to inspect his features. "You're prettier," you affirmed once you analyzed his face.

He let a nervous laugh out. "Y/N..." he began, but didn't seem to find it in him to finish his sentence.

Your being brought him into a whole other world. If this was travelling universes, he'd want to do it all the time. This world only had you and him in it. Curiously, he was content with that idea. Somewhere where it could only be the two of you.

"Kiss me."

His brain short-circuited. A second ago, his mind was elsewhere, and now, you brought him back to reality in an instant. However, he still wasn't able to acknowledge people surrounding you. His sole focus was on the two words you said, and on your lips. Those pink lips he had always wished to kiss ever since that night when he saw you in his clothes. And you were demanding him to kiss you. Why couldn't he do it?

"Whoo!"

The loud scream coming from only a few meters away from you broke you out of your trance. Your gazes darted away from each other to find Minho, who was very much drunk, proudly showing his empty can to a group of girls after doing a shotgun.

The two of you, still holding onto each other, opted to go back to the main room in order to diffuse the weird tension between you. The sight you stumbled upon certainly was not what you thought of seeing any time soon. Chan was grabbing Mina by the waist, keeping her body close to his, as they kissed hungrily in the corner of the room. Near them was an annoyed Changbin, doing everything he could to avoid looking at the couple. The moment he spotted the two of you, he waved at you to come and join him.

"What's this about?" you asked, motioning towards your friends.

"Long story short, they left for a while and came back like this."

"Who would have thought she'd get laid with Chan?" you huffed.

Changbin glared at you. "Thank you for stating the obvious, Y/N."

Well, Changbin was being pretty sensitive tonight. It might have been the alcohol or the dislike he had for Mina. Anyhow, this looked pretty funny to you.

"The party's here, I see," Felix exclaimed as he joined you, bringing his arms around you and Jisung. "How are you, guys?"

"Tired," Changbin replied grumpily.

Hyunjin, Soohee, and Minho, who had all been following Felix, came to sit on the couch next to you. You had just then realized Seungmin was nowhere to be found, which was odd considering he wouldn't have been the kind to wander around too much.

"Soohee," Changbin called for the girl who broke her kiss with Hyunjin to look at him. "Did they say anything to you?"

You assumed he was referring to these friends of hers who worked in the music industry. Soohee clapped her hands together in response, a wide smile spread on her face.

"They've got a spot this summer for new producers and they told me they'll slide a word to their boss to give you the position," she squealed excitedly.

"You're kidding," Jisung said blankly, not believing her.

"I'm not!" she affirmed.

Jisung heard her right. Still, he couldn't fully process what she said. He had the chance to actually make a career out of his hobby. This felt so unreal, his face remained hard as stone, unable to express what he was feeling. Quite frankly, he didn't know what he was feeling himself. While the others around him were cheering happily about the excellent news, everything was a blur for him. Even if he couldn't be any happier, this also meant things were getting serious. Was he ready for this? He was still so young, maybe this was happening fast.

"Ji?" you said to him softly, noticing that he wasn't quite there.

"Uh?" he said while blinking slowly.

"You good?"

He swallowed and then stared back at you. "It's all a tad overwhelming," he admitted.

You gave him a reassuring smile before taking his hand. "How about we celebrate for now and worry about the rest later?"

This did the trick to bring him back fully from his thoughts and he finally allowed himself to cheer with the others. The first thing he did was bring your body into an embrace, holding you close. So close, you could feel his breath grazing the top of your ears, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Guys," Soohee said loudly enough to grab everyone's attention. "I have to precise, there is no certainty you'd be taken. But if you are, then don't mess it up. You've got one chance, and only one."

"Having the position or not, this is the furthest we've gotten so far," Chan answered. "Either way, this is accomplishment."

"I say we drink to this!"

You widened your eyes when you saw Seungmin leaning onto Jeongin as the both of them walked towards you. This was definitely not how you imagined Seungmin be by the end of the night. He was the last person who'd get drunk like this. However, nobody seemed to care and they all agreed to get themselves more alcohol for the occasion.

Meh, at this point, nothing was keeping you from having fun. Besides, Jisung was there. There was nothing to be worried about, as long as he was around to keep you safe.

You didn't know how long you had been drinking and dancing with Mina when you felt yourself getting dizzy. You tried to shake yourself out of your drunken state but there was no use, you had consumed more than needed. Although Mina wanted for you to keep partying with her, you had enough sanity to decline and make your way back to the couches.

The faint view you had in front of you was of a concerned Jisung discussing with Minho. As soon as his eyes laid on your clumsy self, he lost no time in holding onto you to keep yourself from tripping.

"Hey, there," he said softly before guiding you to sit down. "How about you take a little water break?"

You pfft at him. "Who needs water? It tastes like shit."

"I'm not giving you a choice."

Before you could argue, Minho — who you hadn't noticed had left — held a bottle in front of you. Jisung gave him a thankful nod as he took it from him and opened it for you. One would say you were acting like a child as he was trying to get you to drink. Your whines and uncoherent babbles were both concerning and cute to him. The pink that had appeared on your cheeks didn't help.

"It's near 3:00 A.M." he informed to nobody in particular.

"Wow, so early!" you exclaimed.

"You're right, I think it's time we get you home."

You frowned. "Get me home? You found a way to get me home?"

He shut his eyes close for a second. "Not like that, your other home."

You pouted. "But I miss my bed."

"I know you do. Now, can you be quieter? There are people around," he whispered in your ear which tickled it.

"Ji," you giggled and he sighed in exasperation.

"Chan, Changbin," he said to his friends who were standing next to you both. "I think we should leave."

"Finally!" Changbin said with a groan. "I'll get our stuff."

"And I'll get Mina," Chan said before wincing at the sight of his lover.

The girl had found her way to a table where she had let her body fall onto. Her face was inches away from a beer someone had left behind and you could see in her eyes how she was debating internally whether she should take it or not.

The boys had no problem with taking the both of you in Changbin's car and driving back to their place. Although the two other men argued on getting you to your apartment, Changbin just wanted to go back in the comfort of his room. Not that he didn't have fun that night but he was tired as hell. As he was the designated driver, his friends didn't protest any more and they drove home.

"Are you okay with her?" Chan asked Jisung in a concerned voice as they both helped you and Mina get inside.

"Take care of her, don't worry about us. I'll just help her get in bed," he assured and Chan gave him a nod before disappearing in his own room with Mina.

You were left in his care as Changbin had no worry other than going to sleep. You weren't heavy which made the task so much easier for Jisung. Even if you were still mumbling things he couldn't understand fully, you seemed much relaxed than back at Soohee's which he took as a good sign. He carefully laid you down on his bed, making sure he placed your head properly on the pillow.

"Jisung," you mumbled.

He instantly stopped moving you around and crouched to face you. "What is it? Do you need anything?"

"What if I can't get home?"

His heart stopped for a second. He knew you had worries because you still hadn't found a way to travel back to your world but he hadn't noticed how much it actually was affecting you. He was foolishly too focused on spending time with you to notice that. It was time he showed you what he found, he thought. He couldn't be this selfish any longer, it was hurting you.

"You'll find a way, I'm sure of it."

Of course, he was. He had already found it. He was just not ready to see you go yet. Yeah, he shouldn't have gotten so attached to you. But can you blame him? You were so warm and caring to him, it didn't take long for him to like you.

"I'm not so sure, myself," you began to cry and it broke his heart.

"Don't cry, it'll happen," he shushed you softly, rubbing your shoulder.

Without thinking (well, you weren't thinking at all under the influence of alcohol), you took his arm and pulled him closer clumsily. You somehow managed to get him on the mattress and you snuggled into his chest. You could tell he didn't know how to react but you couldn't care less. You were sobbing and in need of his warmth.

"Y/N," he said in a whisper.

"The thing is, I don't even know if I want to go back anymore," you continued to cry.

He was confused about your statement. "What do you mean?"

The rubs he was giving you on your back gave you goosebumps, you didn't know if you had the energy to keep yourself from spilling anything you'd regret the next day. "I mean that I like being here with you."

His breath increased. "I am fun to be around," he joked as to ignore what he knew you were insinuating.

"As in I like you."

Here, you said it. Fatigue mixed with drinking hadn't been of help with keeping this to yourself. Heck, you didn't even admit it to yourself and here you were declaring your crush on a fictional boy. This was ridiculous. However, your sober mind was not present. You would have to worry about that later.

In the meantime, Jisung couldn't find the words to respond to this. This was what he had hoped for in a while, you feeling the same towards him. Still, he knew as much as you that this couldn't happen. But fuck, he couldn't fake it any more. Not only that but he had also drank his fair share, he wasn't fully aware of himself either. That's why he wasn't able to stop himself from speaking his mind.

"I think I like you too."

Six simple words. And yet, that was all it took for something to snap in your head. Moving to be face to face with him, you pulled him by the collar of his shirt and crashed your lips on his. He was quick to match your movements and pace making your lips move in total sync. Even if this was wrong on so many levels, there wasn't anything that felt as right as this. It was almost like you were meant to be together like this.

Jisung swiftly pushed you to be on your back while he positioned himself on top of you, giving him better access to pepper your face with small pecks. As one of his hands stood next to your head to steady himself, the other had no problem exploring your curves, moving up and down from your waist to your hips. A few squeezes here and there, and you were gasping. You wanted more. Your fingers found their way underneath his shirt and you couldn't stop yourself from touching the skin of his abdomen. Fuck, since when was he so toned?

You felt him shiver under your touch and he growled before attacking your neck, sucking on your skin. You gasped and a moan escaped your mouth. This was definitely going to be visible tomorrow.

"Make that sound again," he said in a raspy voice and it made your mind go crazy.

As he sucked once more, you moaned again and you could tell he was having the time of his life getting you to make these noises for him. In a hurry, you took the hem of his shirt and pulled it up needily. You felt his lips form a smirk against your skin. In the time of a blink, he helped you remove his shirt which now left him totally exposed to you. Your eyes widened at the sight. You didn't know he had been working out, his proportions were insane. From his tiny waist to his prominent pecs to his massive arms; he was perfect.

It didn't take long for him to get your shirt off as well. What he hadn't expected was the lack of bra. He immediately became bright red from seeing your breast on full display in front of him. Although this was a view that took his breath away, it switched something in his mind. He suddenly realized what was happening, as if he was sobering up all of the sudden.

"Y/N," he said again, his voice now shaky. "I can't do this."

You frowned. "What? Why not?"

"We're both drunk, I can't possibly take advantage of you like this."

Before he could hear your complaints, he got off of you and back on his feet next to the bed. Carefully, he brought the covers over your body and tucked you in. While you were still pouting, something about him caring that much about your well-being made your stomach flip upside down. He placed a kiss on top of your head and was about to leave the room. Only, you didn't let him.

Grabbing his finger, you looked up at him. "Stay."

And to that, he couldn't say no. So he stayed.

You would have been much better if you hadn't woken up half-naked in Jisung's bed the next day. While you thought you were in the comfort of your dorm with Mina, the scent of Jisung was all over the covers, engulfing you in another type of comfort. In a way, you were glad it was in his home that you were. On the other hand, his shirtless body laying next to you sent you into panic mode real quick. You had no recalling on what happened after the whole gang began drinking like there was no tomorrow and, frankly, you wondered if you wanted to know what happened.

You sat straight up, pulling the blankets over your chest to cover your bare skin, but an intense headache suddenly hit you. You had forgotten how hangovers were this painful. No shit you weren't going out a lot. As you winced at the pain, a few images came back to you.

The first to hit was Jisung's lips on yours. You suddenly remembered how you had pulled him into a kiss after having cried in his arms in his room. It still wasn't clear why you were sad, but one thing was for sure: you fucked up big time.

Another image that hit you was Mina in a much worse state than yours. Chan had her in his arms while her face became so pale to the point it wasn't a skin colour anymore. Where was she even? Did she make it back home.

The final memory you got back was of you removing Jisung's shirt. Well, at least you knew who between the two of you had been needier than the other. You cursed at yourself, already regretting having allowed yourself to let go this much. This guy wasn't real, for fuck's sake. In no way could you even consider the option of having feelings for him.

Well, there wasn't any feelings, technically. It was only a bit of kissing and making out, nothing more.

"Good morning," a deep and raspy voice greeted you, making you almost jump out of bed.

Jisung stretched his arms out before yawning loudly. Once he opened his eyes fully, he was met with your panicked face. That automatically got him nervous and by the way you were shamefully covering yourself, he felt like nothing good was about to happen.

"Fuck," he cursed out in a whisper before rubbing his face with both hands.

"That's one word to describe it," you huffed shyly. "Do you remember what happened?"

He lifted his head up and perked an eyebrow. "Do you remember what happened?" When he saw you hesitate, he cursed again. "Shit, I'm so sorry."

"No, no," you immediately said. "I do remember most of it. Just, not in details, if that makes sense."

His shoulders relaxed but that didn't dismiss the worry spread on his face. "So, what now?"

"Good question."

You didn't dare looking at one another, you were both too ashamed for that. As you were trying to find the right thing to say next, a loud bang was heard from the kitchen. You determined the boys must have woken up after hearing Chan nag Changbin for being clumsy. You and Jisung exchanged an awkward chuckle but that was it. You still weren't able to say anything.

"What's up, guys! Woah," Chan coughed out when seeing your physical state and he closed the door right after. "Uh, so... I made breakfast if you're hungry."

"Thanks, we'll be out in a bit."

The footsteps faded away after a few seconds which was your cue you were back to the awkward moment with Jisung. He didn't seem any more comfortable than you and you began to question if he had any regrets. Obviously, you hated yourself for what occurred last night but you couldn't regret it. It was so passionate and intimate, you hadn't felt so much lust with someone in a long time.

Jisung was the first to finally move and he walked to his closet. Shamefully, you couldn't contain yourself from looking. His back was well-defined, he was like a sculpture. There was no way his body was this perfect.

"Here," he said before throwing a hoodie your way. "I figured mine would look better on you than Jeongin's."

He didn't let you say anything back and he was out the room the second later, lazily putting a shirt on as he walked to the kitchen. You were left dumbfounded as you stared at the piece of clothing in your hands. There was a hint of teasing and jealousy in his voice, you kind of liked it. It wasn't possible for you that he had noticed Jeongin's shirt so much that he'd mention it to you. It was one way to know he might have feelings similar to yours.

After shaking your mind off these thoughts, you threw the hoodie on and went to join the boys to go eat. As soon as you stepped inside the kitchen, your gaze found Mina's. She looked much better than last night, having found her colours a little. She waved at you happily before taking another bite of her toast.

"I didn't remember you coming here with us," you commented as you sat next to Jisung (which was oddly the last free seat).

"To be honest, I don't remember a thing," she laughed. "But I do know Chan and I made up so that is what matters." She leaned to kiss him and then smiled even more. "I heard the two of you had an exciting night."

Jisung choked on his juice, coughing loudly. You chuckled a little but that didn't prevent you from blushing either.

"I'm guessing Hannie finally made a move," Changbin teased his younger friend with a nudge.

"I'd be more prone to think Y/N did," Chan added.

Your face grew redder by the second. "Can we not talk about it?"

This seemed to do the job and the others kept their mouths shut for the rest of the breakfast, only discussing about Mina and Chan's reunion. While you tried your best to take part in the conversation, your shoulder barely touching Jisung's distracted you too much. Weird, no? Only a few hours earlier, you had no shame touching him but here you were, terrified by his mere presence.

"I'll walk you home," Jisung announced once you were both back in his room.

"I can walk by myself just fine, thank you," you turned him down as you grabbed the shirt you were wearing last night along with Jeongin's hoodie.

"I'm not offering," he insisted. "I need to make sure you get there safely."

"Mina and I will walk together," you insisted back, not understanding why he was being so stubborn.

This time, he admitted defeat and dropped himself on his bed. "Text me when you get home, at least?"

"I will."

It reassured him a bit as he smiled shyly. "I'll text you for Tuesday, also."

Oh, right, Tuesday. You almost forgot about it. With a small nod, you left his room and joined Mina at the front door. She and Chan exchanged knowing looks but you ignored them. Waving bye to your friends, you both took off to get back home.

Tuesday came sooner than you had wanted to. Jisung barely texted you, only a few times to let you know where he was at with his research. Other than that, the few past days had mostly consisted of you ranting about your complicated relationship to Seungmin. The poor guy hadn't asked for anything and here he was, forced to listen to your problems. He actually did not mind, he was simply not very expressive when it came to gossiping.

"Are you sure you don't have more files to work on?" you asked him once again.

He deadpanned at you. "Stop this, you're going to go there and face him."

You whined. "I don't want to."

"You have to."

"Can't you come with me?"

"No!"

You huffed in annoyance. "Are you really my friend?"

He rolled his eyes at your question. "You're being so dramatic. What is even the problem? You like him, he likes you; it should be easy."

You bit your lower lip down. "It's more complicated than that."

"Is it?"

It was no use trying to explain to him, that would involve outing you out and you couldn't risk it. So, you sucked your sappy self up and left the office, earning you a "there you go" from Seungmin. You were supposed to meet with Jisung an hour ago but you were too much of a scaredy cat to actually get to the library and you worked some more to buy yourself time. But Seungmin was right, you couldn't put it off any longer.

You were almost shaking when you found yourself in front of the library's door. From outside, you could see him through the window. He was doing nothing more than sorting books and scanning a couple of them but the sight of him was all you needed to make your heart beat ten times faster. Taking a deep breath in, you repeated to yourself this was no big deal. You were coming to see a friend, nothing more. You finally pushed the door open and walked to the front desk. As he had told you, Minho was nowhere in sight. His back was still facing you, meaning he hadn't noticed you yet.

"Just a moment and I'm all yours," he spoke as he finished up his task.

This was a simple phrase of politeness. And yet, the idea of him being yours briefly passed through your eyes. No, this was getting out of hand. You had to stop this behaviour.

As soon as he turned around, his mouth's shape changed into an "o". "I thought you bailed on me."

You scratched the side of your arm in shame. "I had extra work to do at the office."

"No, it's all good. I just thought-" he was about to say but paused before shaking his head. "Never mind. There aren't many students today so we should be fine in terms of discretion."

You nodded as you watched him walk around the counter. Did he really have to look that good in his red shirt? He seemed to have put much more effort in his appearance than usual. Nevertheless, this was not the time to check him out. You followed his steps towards a section in the back, one you hadn't explored yet. You were quite perplexed when he stopped in front of the fairy tale section and scrunched his nose while scanning through the books.

"Fairy tales?" you scoffed. "You must be joking."

He rolled his eyes as he pulled out one book. "Let me show you first."

"Well, sorry but this is not very promising."

He sent one more glare your way and began to flip the pages. "Don't be mad, I actually found this a while ago. I was afraid you-" he restrained himself from speaking again. "That you'd judge it because it is a fairy tale."

This was not what he wanted to say originally, you could easily tell but the way he cleared his throat. Even though you wanted to insist for him to spill it, he didn't let you by shoving a page in your face. You scrutinized the words attentively as you took the book from him. It might have been a fairy tale, a work of fiction, but the story was almost identical to how you arrived in this world.

Once upon a time, a princess lived in a castle. The girl loved her castle more than you could imagine. She was living a happy life on her own with the company of the animals of the forest. Some were big, some were small, but all loved the princess very much.

One day, the princess was reading a book like she would do every night before going to bed. The only difference was how marveled she was by its story. It told the journey of a boy living in the country, trying his best to live by his late mother's wishes despite not being very wealthy. Something about this boy moved her, she felt for him.

As she was about to go back to her chambers, one missed step on the stairs caused her to lose balance. In the snap of a finger, she tripped. Only, she never really fell. Once she opened her eyes, she was in a place she had never visited before. She was in a quaint little farm where a dozen of hens were greeting her with their clucks. Confused she was but these thoughts vanished when her gaze fell on a boy. She immediately knew who he was.

"How is this relevant?" you groaned, not understanding how he even thought this was anything close to what you had experienced.

"She tripped and found a boy, just like you," he pointed out. "You can skip to the last page, that's where it shows how she came back to her palace."

The boy invited the princess for dinner. It was not much, but it was all he could afford for her. He had cooked all of the dishes by himself, something he was quite proud of. He was hoping he would be proposing to the girl. Tonight was supposed to be the most gorgeous eclipse of their era, according to the village's sorcerer. He would not miss the opportunity to make the most of it.

When the princess arrived in the backyard of his home, her heart melted at how beautiful the boy had arranged the place. It was so simple but it felt like home. A blanket had been laid next to his family's tree and, on top, he had placed the food along with the best beverage he was capable of buying.

The night was perfect. The princess had fallen in love with this place, never wanting to leave. Especially not when she had just realized how fond she had grown of her new friend. Dare to say, she was smitten. As they were watching the last seconds of the eclipse, the boy gathered all of his courage and pulled the princess closer to him. With the shadow over them, they shared their very first kiss.

What they did not know was how this would also be their last. Slowly, the girl's figure began to fade away, vanishing into thin air. The panic on the boy's face was one she had never seen before, one of great pain. She was devasted, so was he. She then understood this was her time to come home. As she forced a smile through her tears, she mumbled the only phrase she had meant to tell him all along.

You shut the book closed, not wanting to read the rest. "Really? A stupid little story is the answer to my problem?"

Jisung almost shivered from how cold your tone was. He had never meant for you to think he wasn't taking you seriously, of course he was. In a way, he did understand why it seemed idiotic of him to show you this. But he knew this was your last hope. Everything you'd tried so far was a great failure. And since the moment you told him how homesick you were at the party, he now wanted nothing more but to make you happy. Even if it meant losing you.

"She was reading a book, you were watching a movie. She tripped, you tripped. She found a boy, you found me," he went on to explain. "And, if I'm not wrong, you fell in love with me like she did."

Your breath cut short. Was it so obvious? You did everything in your power to not let it show, even more to not let it happen. Apparently, love did not work like this and couldn't be helped. This whole thing was shitty, falling in love with someone you could never be with.

"You're wrong," you mumbled. "I care about you a lot, but I wouldn't call this love," you lied — apart when you said you cared about him.

He huffed. "What would you call what happened the other night, then? Because, for me, it looked a lot like it was a confession of your feelings. Unless you'd been leading me on."

It was your turn to huff. "You think I would stoop so low as to do something like this to you?"

"If it isn't because you love me, I don't know what it is."

Unexpectedly, heavy footsteps came your way, You both turned around to see Minho walking to you, red in his eyes. You glared at Jisung since you thought Minho wasn't supposed to be here in the first place.

"If you're to argue about your little love life, can you do it outside? I can hear you from the entrance."

"I thought you weren't working today," Jisung said with a frown, ignoring what his friend had complained about.

"I don't work tomorrow, I'm taking over for the evening today."

Shit, Jisung didn't look at the work sheet properly. Despite your dark eyes still on him, he grabbed your wrist and led you outside, apologizing quickly to Minho as you walked past him. You tried to break away but he was stronger than you were, leaving you no choice but to follow him. He ignored the beeping sound caused by the book you were still holding as you hadn't officially rented it. Once out of the library, he did not stop there. Instead, he continued to walk away leaving you as clueless as ever.

Finally, you began to piece things together when you saw where he was heading to. It didn't take you more than a minute or so to reach the football field, exactly where you had started bonding only two months ago.

"Okay, can you explain to me now?" he sighed, crossing his arms on his chest.

You massaged your wrist. "First off, ouch." He only rolled his eyes which kind of hurt you somehow. "Second off, there is nothing to explain."

"Almost sleeping together after you told me you like me isn't nothing," he persisted.

"Why does it matter?" you groaned, getting annoyed. "I'm to go back to my world, it wouldn't change anything."

"For me, it would."

"Why?"

He grunted in frustration before grabbing you by the shoulders, visibly not in control of his actions anymore. "Because I love you."

You stared at him in silence, mouth agape. You couldn't comprehend fully what he said. He couldn't possibly love you. And if he really did, this entire thing had taken a whole new turn you weren't sure you could handle.

"What?" you whispered, not finding the strength in you to speak loud enough.

"I love you," he repeated, loosening his grip on you. "I've never been the best in terms of opening up and all. But with you? This has never been so easy. There is something about you, a spark. It feels homey and safe. I find extreme comfort and reassurance just by your presence. Not only that, you understand me on so many levels, I wonder if you know me better than myself at times.

"And at the party... Fuck, Y/N, it was like you got me under a spell. I always needed to have an eye on you or I thought of suffocating. Then, when we were in my room, it broke my heart when you began saying you were afraid to never be able to leave."

You almost wanted to thank him for not referring again to the physical part of the whole thing, how you had almost given yourself to him. Despite that, this whole-hearted confession of his was no longer only about mere feelings he had. He actually loved you.

"I'm sorry," you mustered the energy to say.

What were you apologizing for? Even you didn't know. For letting him love you this much, probably. You were dying to tell him you felt the same but in no way was this how things were supposed to be. Loving each other was only going to cause you great pain.

"Tell me you felt something too, please," he pleaded, eyes watery.

You could feel the lump in your throat grow when you shook your head, refusing to tell him what he wanted to hear. That was what made him let go of you as he took a few steps back. You hurt him.

"I'm sorry for reading into things that weren't there," he pettily scoffed. "Read the rest," he motioned the book. "There's an eclipse this Saturday just so you know. Find a way to get back, but don't count on me helping you in this madness anymore."

He turned on his heels and walked off in a hurry pace, obviously wanting to get as far from you as possible. You wanted to call him out, cry, scream, anything. But nothing. Your body was limp and wasn't letting you express what you were feeling. Instead, you dropped on the bench next to you with the book on your thighs.

You opened it back to read the end. Just like you had anticipated, this was only heartbreaking to come to the conclusion neither characters saw each other again. This was what you wanted to avoid, live with an void in your heart because you fell in love with the protagonist.

You did everything to prevent it. But you failed.

Saturday was dangerously coming fast and your stubborn self was refusing to reach out to Jisung. He told you to find a solution on your own, that was what you had been doing. Nevertheless, the only remaining option was him. He had to be there.

You ended up telling the truth to Mina the night after your argument. It was inevitable, your emotionless stare outed you right away the moment she saw you. You couldn't hide it from her anymore. She took it better than you thought. Not only that, you also told her about the whole movie thing. She had been nothing but supportive, not even a bit bothered that she was fictional.

"Fictional or not, what I feel is real and that's what matters," she had answered when you asked why she remained this calm.

She was a bit of a replacement for Jisung, she was fully aware of that. But when it came to trying to get you home, she insisted the fairy tale wasn't just an odd coincidence. And that was why you were staring at your phone with nothing but fear.

"If you don't tell him to meet you at the park tonight, I will," Mina threatened, growing impatient as it had been almost ten minutes since you agreed to invite Jisung.

"He'll think I'm just using him to get home," you argued.

"I guess you are, but he won't care about that. If he loves you, it'll be stronger than his free will to come to your help."

You bit on your lip and finally picked the phone up. Opening your chat with Jisung, your fingers lingered above the keyboard. You knew what to say. The issue was how were you going to word it. After one last glance at Mina, you took a deep breath and began to type.

Y/N: Hey. How have you been?

No, this sounded too weird. It was obvious he hadn't been well, it'd be stupid to start the message like this.

Y/N: Hey! I know I haven't been exactly the greatest friend to you. You are right, I keep leading you on when I fully know that what we have can't even happen. It doesn't change the fact that I never wanted to hurt you intentionally and I am so sorry for the trouble I've caused. If you are still willing to forgive me, and maybe help me, meet me at 4 at the park where we met. There are many things I still need to tell you. I hope to see you there.

Sent. And now all you had left to do was wait. Mina hugged you tight as soon as you let go of the phone. You could tell she was proud, it felt nice to know she cared this much for you.

"If he does show up, does it mean I won't see you again?" Mina asked while still hugging you.

"Most likely, yes," you breathed out. "You'll have your Y/N back."

She chuckled. "She's not like you. Sure, I miss her, but it would have been better if having the two of you was an option."

It was your turn to laugh and you pulled away from the hug. "I promise I won't tell a soul about this," she affirmed.

You smiled gratefully. "Do you mind doing me one last favour?"

"Anything," she didn't hesitate to respond.

"One last makeover?"

The grin was all the answer you needed. You spend the afternoon doing some self-care activities while exchanging and laughing. She asked you some more about your own world and you answered. You hated to admit so but you were going to miss her. You never had one close friend in particular, it was always people scattered a bit everywhere without being so close to them. It was probably a sign you needed to bond more with your own friends.

That was if Jisung showed up. There was no telling when the next eclipse would happen so the option of staying here for much longer stayed in your mind vividly.

4 o'clock was approaching and Mina was still debating whether you should go for a dress or a jumpsuit. You let her have her fun when you heard the notification sound coming from your phone. You immediately rushed to see if Jisung had replied but you were left disappointed when you saw it was only a promotional text from some random company. Your message, however, had been read. But no reply.

Mina said nothing from seeing your sad face, but she came to show you the dress she chose. You were still amazed at how she always found the perfect combination for an outfit.

"Do you want me to come with you?" she offered but you shook your head.

"I'll be fine, but thank you."

She let you get changed and once you did so, the two of you sat in silence in your shared dining room. You were intensely staring at the clock and it was killing you how time seemed to pass by so slowly. Eventually, ten minutes before 4 o'clock came and it was time to head out.

Mina couldn't help herself but cry as she hugged you close to her. "Don't forget me, yeah?"

"I could never," you reassured. "And don't forget, the other Y/N is still me in a way. You haven't lost me completely."

She sniffled as she let go of your body. "Good luck with your man."

You gave her one last warm smile and you walked out the door. You sighed heavily as you walked down the stairs. This was already a day full of emotions, you weren't sure if you were ready for what would happen next. Either you'd be heartbroken Jisung didn't come or you'd have to leave him forever after finally telling him how you truly felt.

The walk to the park was quick and you were about a minute early. You walked to one of the swings and sat there, slowly swinging your body back and forth. You were glad the weather wasn't too cold since the dress wasn't exactly the warmest thing you could have worn.

Minutes passed, maybe even an hour. There was still no sign of Jisung. You began to think it was a bad idea to ask him to meet where his mother had died but you assumed it being the spot where you appeared would be an important factor to get back to your world. Perhaps he simply didn't want to see you again. You did hurt him a lot, it would be understandable.

You weren't counting the minutes anymore when you concluded he wouldn't come. Jumping onto your feet, you were on the verge of walking back to Mina but you stopped on your tracks stiffly.

He was there.

You couldn't quite believe what you were seeing. With only a lamppost nearby to illuminate your surroundings, his face was glowing. There was obvious resentment in his face but you could tell he was not as pissed as the last time you'd seen him. He gradually approached you while you remained hard as stone, unable to move. It was a miracle you were even breathing, in all honesty.

"I guess I still help you in the end," he began, avoiding your gaze.

"I thought you wouldn't come," you said with relief and he sadly laughed.

"You could call this a payback from when you arrived an hour late."

You felt even more relieved he was feeling comfortable enough to still joke a bit. However, you couldn't take his presence for granted. There must have been a reason for him to show up despite the hurt you'd done.

"Can I sit with you?" he gestured towards the swings and you nodded.

"I don't know where to start," you nervously chuckled. "I guess I can start with apologizing."

"That'd be a good start."

You cleared your throat, feeling a tad uneasy with how bizarre the tension was. "I'm sorry for not being truthful. I wasn't honest with a lot of things, including my feelings for you."

He frowned as it clearly quirked his attention. "What didn't you tell me?"

Even if his voice was shaky, it still held so much softness, as to not put pressure on you. If this was his goal, it worked. There was no turning back now.

"I don't have the proper words to put it out easily but I'll try my best. Remember how I've told you I was watching TV when the shift happened?"

His breath hitched. "What about it?"

"It might have been a film about you."

He didn't panic or get mad. In fact, it was quite opposite. He looked relieved and happy. You searched in his face any sign of anger but there was none, which left you more confused.

"Jisung?"

He let out a breathy laugh. "I kind of figured it out, I was just wondering if I was going crazy with this theory or not."

"What- Since when?"

"I'm not sure. It's like I've always known. Same as when you told me you were from another dimension, it just made sense for some reason."

You huffed. "How come are you so chill with it?"

He looked at you as if you had asked the dumbest question. "I might be fictional where you are but, here, I'm pretty fucking real. If I'm not, then I can't explain how I have all of these complicated thoughts and emotions when it comes to you."

You could feel yourself swoon at his words. "I don't want to leave suddenly," you confessed but he shook his head.

He stood up and stopped in front of you to take yours hands and get you up as well. Face to face, you could feel him exhale on your forehead. It felt nice to have his body close to yours again, like you had longed for it without knowing.

"You know you have to go."

You finally looked up at him. "No, I can stay. I get along just fine with Mina and the amnesia lie seems to be convincing everyone."

"Y/N, you already struggled with lying to me. How can you handle putting a façade up for the rest of your life?"

You wanted to scream at him, tell him how wrong he was. Accuse him of how low he thought of you by saying this. The truth was he was right. You knew deep down your place was not here. But just one thing was stopping you.

"But I love you," you mumbled as tears began to fall on your cheeks.

Jisung was surprisingly very sereine and he wiped your tears away with his thumbs. "There, you said it," he grinned victoriously.

You shoved him slightly. "Shut up."

He laughed again and damn was he pretty when he laughed. "That's all I wanted to hear, that you loved me too."

"If you love me, why should you let me go?"

He sighed as he rubbed your cheeks gently. He wasn't going to answer, you both knew it wasn't necessary. Nonetheless, it didn't mean it didn't hurt at all. It stabbed you like a knife. You had gotten so used to being around him. How were you going to deal in a world where he didn't exist?

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered even if his mouth had already had the time to get closer to yours.

It was all you needed to kiss him yourself, standing on your tippy toes to reach his level. It was just like you remembered it; sweet, tender, passionate. It was so addicting, you didn't want to imagine how breaking it would feel like. His hands let go of you to move on your hips before he pulled you even closer.

He didn't want to let go either.

You didn't notice he was crying as well until you reached your hand up to cup his cheek. It pained you more and more, and how you still were kissing him despite getting out of breath was a proof of it.

You both pull away eventually, even if it was clear as day both of you didn't want to. Jisung kept his forehead against yours and, without speaking a word, his gaze dove in yours. He wanted to remember your eyes, get one last good look at it. Because he knew what was already occurring right before his eyes.

"I'm leaving already, aren't I?" you cried out, as if you had read his mind.

"There's an eclipse, and I kissed you."

You nodded slowly and scanned your body. "It's a strange feeling."

He watched you slowly fading away and his heart clenched. "Think of me, please," he almost begged.

"Always," you smiled weakly. "I love you."

"I lo-"

And then nothing.

A loud music woke you up. Your eyes shot wide open as you gasped for air. Taking a look around you, you stood from the ground. Everything was exactly where it had been. The first thing you went to look for was your sweet rabbit. Her nose peeking from under the couch, she wasn't hard to miss.

"Hey, baby," you cooed as you picked her up. "For you, it's been a second, but I haven't seen your cute face in months!"

You carefully placed her back in her playpen. Once she was safe and sound, you finally allowed yourself to look at the screen. It was Jisung, having a blast at Soohee's party. You forced yourself to smile as you watched him hold tight onto a girl. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't finish this movie. Not any time soon, at least. Grabbing your remote, your turned the screen off and crashed on your couch.

It had been a while since you felt yourself relax. Still, the headache you had made you question if what you had experienced was a dream or not. You did wake up because of the music coming from the television. That meant it was very possible this was only a dream.

Either way, it was over now. You had gone back to your life and now you needed to call your workplace to inform them you would be coming in tomorrow in the end.

And tomorrow came as usual. Nothing out of the ordinary; work, eating, more work, and then back home again. It felt rather underwhelming after your journey with Jisung. Somehow, you couldn't get him out of your head, not even for a second to work correctly.

You were very much distracted. Too distracted. Frustrated, you let go of the soup you were slurping and walked to your room. Sitting down at your desk, you opened your laptop and began to look up Jisung's name. You hadn't even noted down the title of the movie, his name alone should do the job.

The moment you clicked on "enter", articles and websites flooded like a river. All of them about Han Jisung. It was him for real, with his actual name next to tons of pictures. So he wasn't fictional after all. Then, who the hell was he?

You scrolled down to find a recent article which mentioned the movie itself. Opening the link, you read it all so quickly. It said Jisung was, indeed, a young artist who had the chance to collaborate with many renowned producers to make a film about his struggles. His main purpose was to reach an audience who could relate to his pain and learn to get through struggles like he did.

You weren't sure what this was referring to since you technically didn't watch the film entirely. What caught your attention, however, was the final paragraph.

The singer has begun his promotion tour where he holds conferences concerning mental health in younger generations. He hopes to spread awareness as much as he can. To see him, his next seminar is to be held in Seoul the Thursday of next week.

You checked the date this article was published and thanked the universe that it was no older than a week. That meant the conference was tonight. You didn't know if it was a good idea but you still had so many questions about everything, you felt like getting the chance to speak to him might answer a few of them.

"Looks like I'll be spending $40 tonight," you groaned to yourself before opening the sign-up page to the event.

You were lucky it wasn't starting too early and that you still had two hours before it began. It was enough time for you to wash up, get changed and hop onto a bus that transported you all the way to the other side of the city.

One would call you crazy for going all the way in for this boy who probably had no idea you existed. But the memory of him was too fresh, it bothered you. You thought it'd help you to see him in person. That was not exactly how it went.

As the crowd settled comfortably on their seats, the host greeted the audience warmly. Needless to say, you were taken aback to see the man you grew to know as Chan on stage. This was surely the actor who played him.

"Hello, everyone," he waved with a bright smile. "My name is Bang Chan and I will be your presenter tonight."

Okay, this was getting weirder and weirder. First Jisung was a real person, but Chan as well?

"As you may know, I have contributed with the production of the movie Alien: I'm so lonely. The mastermind behind this work is my dear friend, Han Jisung. But you knew that, that's why you're here. I ask of you to be patient as him and I will discuss his journey on this project. Afterwards, you may ask your questions and Jisung with happily answer them. Please, welcome Han Jisung!"

The crowd applauded as he came on stage. He looked tinier and intimidated on this big stage in front of so many people. You were starting to question yourself if this was the same man you had in mind. But as soon as he flashed his smile, your heart skipped a beat. This was him. And visibly, these feelings were as strong as they were back in the movie's world.

"I'd like to think you all came here after enjoying my movie so I'd like to start with thanking you all for your support. It means a lot," he smiled before bowing.

The two men sat down and Chan was the one to initiate the discussion. "I had the pleasure to be part of your project but there are things that are still a mystery. The entire film is based on your own experience whether it is the loss of your mother, your struggle to make a name for yourself in the music industry as well as the mental struggles you had to face. However, there is one aspect that was never part of your actual life and it is the character of Y/N."

Your body stiffened. Had you heard him right? This had to be yet another disturbing coincidence, it wouldn't be logical otherwise. The real Jisung didn't know you.

"We're getting right away into your favourite part today, aren't we?" he chuckled uncomfortably. "I had a dream long ago. It consisted of my usual day-to-day life but this girl appeared out of nowhere. We went through everything together the way we did in the movie. It was only a dream but I woke up feeling empty. She wasn't real but she was present for me more than anyone."

"Are you saying you felt more connected to an imaginary friend than to your close ones?"

"Of course not," he scoffed. "I came around the idea she was a fragment of myself that represented my strength. I'd like to think she really existed, but I can't drive myself crazy over that."

The rest of their discussion was nothing but a distant sound to you. Plenty of possibilities about what occurred were now open and, quite frankly, it was giving you a headache. You had never met Jisung in this world, but maybe his other self was still a part of him. That, or you visited his dream and not the movie.

The two men discussed some more details for another hour. After what felt like an eternity, the question period finally arrived. You had forgotten all pre-prepared interrogations you had by then. Despite that, you were determined to, at least, speak to him once. Nervously, you raised your hand while he was already responding to someone.

"So yeah, I'd say my mother was the main reason why I wanted to make this film," he concluded his answer with a nod.

Chan looked among the audience and it was almost like he recognized you. With a knowing grin, he pointed at you. "Miss with the red shirt."

The crew member walked to you to give you a microphone and it abruptly hit you how unprepared you were for this. You gulped as you shakingly brought the mic closer to your mouth.

"I had a question concerning this Y/N character."

Jisung, on his side, looked a mess the instant he heard your voice. He went closer to your side of the stage while squinting in order to take a better look at who was talking. He would recognize that voice anywhere.

"Go ahead," he finally said.

"When you said she appeared out of nowhere in your dream, what did you mean by that?"

And once and for all, he got a good glimpse of you. The actress who played you looked nothing like you. She was no match compared with your soft features. That was why she was the only character he struggled to cast — besides the fact half of the cast was his actual friends playing themselves.

"I-" he pondered for a moment. "You know what? Can you come see me after the conference? I feel like this is not something I can answer in the span of two minutes."

Surprised, you didn't let it show and nodded as you sat back down. What were the odds for him to want to talk to you one on one? Like he had requested to, you remained seated when Chan dismissed the audience.

It wasn't long after that a security member came to fetch you. He guided you all the way to a room backstage. Only from afar, you saw Jisung talk with Chan. He looked disturbed and worried. You started to think it wasn't a good timing to interrupt him. However, before you could have a say in it, the security guy pushed you inside and closed the door.

You looked at anywhere but them, rocking your body back and forth to hide the nervousness. There was a long silence before Chan sighed in a discouraged way. Without saying a thing, he walked past you and left the room.

It was only you and him.

"Is your name Y/N by any chance?" Jisung broke the ice making you look at him. His eyes were filled with hope.

"It is," you confirmed and his body immediately relaxed.

"I don't want to sound too creepy or whatever but..." he hesitated a little as he bit his upper lip. "I feel like I've seen you before."

Your breath cut short. He remembered.

"I might have a similar feeling towards you."

This made his unsure expression break into a smile, which then made you smile. It was like meeting a friend you hadn't seen in years, except you saw this same guy only hours ago. Heck, you were kissing him.

"Do you have time to go out for dinner with me?"

His question might have made you happier than you were supposed to be but you didn't care one bit, and it didn't look like he did either. After you shyly nodded a yes, he walked your way and drowned you in a hug. You didn't fight back.

"I think I forgot to tell you something," he mumbled softly against your ear.

"What is it?" you responded in the same tone.

"You left before I could finish; I love you."

taglist: @lenilla15 | @muddy-waters | @nanaspalette | @nattisbored | @popcatx0 | @vanblack95 | @aestheticsluut | @thanxxskz | @minhoino | @taetertotsv | @luvscrazy | @lethallyprotected | @foxinnie8 | @jisuperboard | @jihanlovic | @soobin-chois | @jinxwhore28 | @purplelandsworld | @yeojoongiee | @smugrogerina | @jaehyunicecream | @urmomlikeslinotoo | @syprosight | @thesassy-mia | @chaotic-world-of-the-j | @heartsforlevi | @miyakoa | @seungincore | @skzsilentcryy

Copyright © 2024 skzhua. All rights reserved.

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #han jisung x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids han #stray kids han jisung #han jisung scenarios #han jisung imagines #han jisung #han jisung fluff #han jisung angst #stray kids scenarios #han jisung fanfic #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #skz han #skz x reader #skz #stray kids han x reader

[beardedjoel]

butt dial | a pretty little wife mini chapter

joel x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | ✨kofi ✨

summary: 2.3k words; you're home alone while joel is out with his brother. he butt dials you, and you hear some very interesting things. warnings: 18+ MDNI, no apocalypse au, pre-established sub/dom relationship/dynamic, dirty talk, pet names for reader, joel says some dirty ass shit about pretty wife, allusions to smut at the end a/n: just a short little ditty inspired by this ask - you're an absolute saint for putting this idea in my head it had me kicking and giggling my feet to think about and write. enjoy!!!

You sigh, leaning back on the couch and curling up a bit more. The blanket draped over you has fallen, so you tug it up a bit and snuggle your arms underneath the plush fabric. It still carries a lingering scent of Joel and you happily breathe it in as you train your eyes on the screen. You’ve put on a mushy romance film, the type Joel doesn’t typically jump at watching with you. It’s not that he won’t, because one look from your desperate eyes will have him rolling his and turning the movie you’ve requested on, anyways. But a man has his limits, and he’s said no more than one of that genre every few months.

Joel is out tonight with Tommy, grabbing drinks to fulfill their monthly tradition. They often have a beer at yours and Joel’s place, or go out for just one after work, maybe, but once a month they have a full-on night out. You encourage it, wanting Joel to stay close with his brother. You never had such a close relationship with your family like he does with his brother, and you know their tough upbringing drew them together. 

You also don’t mind having the house to yourself for the evening, you think with a wry smile, basking in the quiet comfort and being able to pick whatever form of entertainment without your well meaning husband griping about it. You’ve got on one of the newest rom-coms you’d noticed on Netflix the other day, and have a lazy smile as you watch, feeling fully content. You’d made a hearty batch of fried rice for dinner, leaving a plate made up in case Joel came home drunk and starving (he always did). 

A sudden trilling tone interrupts your daze, and you pause the movie and sit up to see your phone lit up and ringing. Joel’s name flashes on the screen, along with a photo of the two of you together, taken on a sunny day when you went hiking. It makes you smile briefly before worry settles in, wondering why he’s calling right now. It makes your stomach sink a bit, hoping he’s not gotten into trouble, or worse, hurt. You scramble to answer, your fingers fumbling with the buttons until you pull it to your ear, your breath hitching as you try to swallow and get the words out.

“H-hello?” you say quickly into the receiver, clutching it close to your ear. You hear a staticky sound, loud and grating as the call finally comes in. You yank it back from your ear, your brows knitting together in confusion. The sounds become a little clearer as you listen closer, and you can hear the buzz of multiple, overlapping conversations and music. You breathe out in relief as you realize Joel is okay, and nearly laugh at how worked up you got in the first place. Your mind just goes to that terrified place, wondering how the hell you’d ever live if something happened to him.

You almost hang up, smiling with the burst of relief when you catch the tail end of something Joel is saying. You know this was an accidental butt dial, and you really should hang up, but after your scare, you want to hear your husbands safe, comforting voice… just for a second. Just  a second, and then you’ll hang up, give him his privacy. 

You press the phone close to your ear, trying to make it out. You hear the distinct sound of both of the boys’ laughter, Joel and Tommy, and you can tell just from that noise that they’re well into their drinking for the night. It’s a lighthearted, deep laugh, one that he doesn’t do very often. It makes you smile and you sigh a little, putting your chin in your hand.

“-and then I fell right down, right there on the damn street… Theresa was pissed, lemme tell you…” you hear Tommy’s voice slurring out, a little distant but still clear enough to make out. Joel howls with laughter and you can picture him, trying not to choke on his sip of beer, clapping Tommy on the shoulder.

“Fuckinhellbrother,” Joel slurs, like it’s one full word.

“I know, I know. Your missus is lucky she ain’t out with us right now,” Tommy replies.

“She’d sure as hell be laughin’ at our asses, if ‘m honest.”

Your eyes widen at the mention of you. You feel a twinge of guilt press on you but you can’t find it in yourself to hang up just yet. You just want to hear a little bit more… you think devilishly to yourself.

“What’s she up to tonight? Probably sittin’ at home missin’ you,” Tommy teases his brother.

Joel chuckles. “Guarantee she loves it, probably got one of her sappy little movies on. Silly fuckin’ girl...” You smile at how well he knows you and press the phone a little closer.

“C’mon, know you watch ‘em with her, too,” Tommy slurs a bit.

“Can’t say no to a face like that… and a mouth like that…” Joel says boldly. You feel your eyes go wide and you hold back a gasp. You feel your cheeks starting to burn a little to hear the way Joel’s being so open with his brother, the implication behind his words heavy with innuendo.

“Chriiiiist, here wegoagain,” Tommy says quickly, slurring. You furrow your brow, picking up on the fact that Tommy has heard Joel talking like this before, like it’s completely normal for them. You start to feel a pleasant little swirl deep in your gut at the fact that Joel brags about those particular abilities of yours.

You think you hear them both chuckle a little bit. “Know I can’t help m’self Tommy. Fuckin’ body of an angel, mouth of a fuckin’ devil, lord. Could go on about it f’days.”

Tommy seems quiet for a moment, just listening. “You always brag too much, brother. ‘Sides, she says nothin’ but sweet things and you know it. Nicest little gal around.”

“Who said anything about the things she’s saying?” Joel quips back. 

“Fuckin’ hell. Yeah, I get it, your wife gives good head, yeah?” Tommy snips, but it sounds more playful than angry to you. 

You can picture your husband, face flushed from the alcohol and hair a little messy, leaning forward and grinning in that devilish way. “Suckin cocks’s not the only thing she’s good at. Practically everything, really, but lord does that woman know how to do just what I want. She’s a real good listener, my girl.” Your thighs clench together and you feel your breathing hitch. Just Joel basically calling you a good girl from afar has you feeling like an animal in heat all of a sudden. You throw the blanket off as you feel your body starting to warm up and a soft smile comes to your face. 

You hear silence from Tommy’s end, maybe too stunned to speak, clearly giving Joel permission to keep going.

“Y’know the best part? I got her listenin’ so good, she’ll do just about anythin’. Let me fuck her whenver I needta, you get me?”

“Christ Jesus, Joel, whatever the hell was in this fuckin’ beer got you too open tonight…”

“Can’t a man brag about his wife without gettin’ hounded? Jus’ wanted to share a lil love for my sweet gal.”

“Alright, alright, but shut the hell up now,” Tommy says with a howl of laughter, and the phone goes a little quieter, assuming Joel adjusted in his seat. 

“Jealous, jealous…” Joel taunts. 

“Shut. It. Or we’re gonna have a real bar fight on our hands here,” Tommy threatens teasingly. Their words continue to jumble a bit, and you can tell they’re both reaching close to their limit on beer and liquor for the evening. 

“Oh, fine,” Joel finally says, vowing to get off the topic. 

You feel a surge of pride that you witnessed something so special, so pure, despite the filthy things he was saying about the two of you. It just felt like pure love and adoration, even when you weren’t in the room to hear it. It makes your heart skip a little bit to know that Joel talks so highly of you even when he isn’t around you, going so far as to brag about such intimate things with his brother. You know it was lewd, but it made you feel that warm feeling you get whenever Joel shows you off in any way.

Lost deep in thought, you’ve already started to tune out their next batch of teasing and laughter as they move on to a new topic, so you decide to hang up the phone and let them get on with their night. 

You feel a lingering pride to be Joel’s wife sticking with you as you when you go back to watching the movie. Your heart feels so light and free right now, and you find yourself yearning for him to come home just so you can unload some of this love onto him as it bubbles up inside of you. 

Another hour and a half later, you hear keys jingling outside the door before the lock clicks and the front door swings open clumsily. Joel spots you instantly, curled up on the couch with a wide smile as soon as your eyes flick over to him. You sit up and stretch a little, taking in the full, broad form of him fumbling about as he walks in.

“Oh, hello there,” he says in a low, goofy voice. He stumbles in a little, a goofy smile on his face as he tries to take off his shoes. 

“Feelin’ good, handsome?” you tease him, trying not to laugh at how absolutely adorable your husband is when he’s a little drunk.

“Better ‘n good, now. Home with my pretty girl…” he coos. You stand up, bounding over to him and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling yourself close as quickly as you can. 

“Oh,” he puffs out as you practically slam into his chest. One hand immediately wraps around your waist, drawing you closer, the heat of his hand burning through your thin tee shirt, and the other splays across the back of your head, pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. You moan quietly, a little desperate mewl climbing its way out of your throat as his lips devour you. You can taste his evening - beers and liquor and… a cigar? You should chastise him for that one, you think, but you know Tommy can be a bad influence so you let it slide in lieu of some more kisses from him. You deepen it and slide your tongue into his mouth, and he happily returns it, tongues skimming each other for a few moments before you pull back, gently biting his bottom lip on the way.

“Hell, what’d a guy do to deserve a kiss like that, hm?” Joel muses, a little tipsy sounding. His hand comes around your head to stroke your cheek, thumb lingering as he traces down the soft skin there.

“Just wanted to show you all the things I’m good at, since that’s what you said, right?” you tease him, knowing he likely won’t even be able to piece in together in his current state.

Joel’s face scrunches up a bit, his brows drawing together as he tries to wrack his hazy brain for any clue of what you’re referring to.

“Not just good for ‘suckin’ cock’?” you say, your voice low, a furtive little whisper right near his ear. You peel back a bit to see his eyes widen a little, more confused than ever.

“Wh-”

“Butt dial, darling,” you tell him, pecking his cheek.

Joel laughs, a nervous yet comfortable laugh, able to read you well enough to know you aren’t upset about what he said, just amused. His laugh turns to a low chuckle, a little mischievous glint in his eye. His hand slides down from the small of your back to you ass, giving it a gentle, swift pat.

 “And aren’t you a naughty girl for listenin’ in on my private conversation, hm?” he teases, bringing his lips within an inch of yours.

“Couldn’t help myself, had to hear what my husband really thinks of me.” You move your lips the slightest bit, brushing against his in a soft touch. “Good thing it’s not anything I didn’t already know…” You pull back suddenly, giving him a wink and putting a little space between the two of you.

“In that kind of mood tonight, are we, doll? Little bit bratty?” Joel asks with raised brows. “Gonna have to make you prove to me everything I told Tommy is true then, aren’t I?” Joel’s eyes go hungrier, a deep, feral need growing in his core and showing up right in his dark irises.

You shrug and turn to walk away, but Joel grabs onto your wrist, spinning you back against him. “Nuh uh, not so fast. You’re comin’ with me, darlin’” he spits out. In a split second his arms are on either side of your waist, hoisting you up and then tossing you over his shoulder so that your head is hanging down his back.

“H-hey!” You giggle, swinging your feet to try and get down, knowing it’s no use, and if you’re honest with yourself, you don’t want to escape, of course. Not from a hold this good.

Joel’s hand reaches up and smacks your ass hard as he carries you towards the stairs. “Now let’s go and you can tell me all about everything you heard me sayin’ tonight.”

You smile wide, feeling your mind and body already buzzing for your husband and all the things he seemed to have in store for you. It was going to be a fun night, indeed.

plw taglist: @aphterthoughtt @bbyanarchist @amy172 @hazzaismyreligion @ohheypedrito @msmorningstaarr @kamcrazy123 @madhere @paleidiot @saverockandroll54 @daddy-din

#LOVED THIS SO MUCHHH #fucking sexy little cuties #fic: pretty little wife #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction

[freshsturns]

Chris smuttttttt

just what i needed.

- chris sturniolo x reader

a/n: ugh i’m so bad at writing i’m sorry this is horrible 😐 also such a random song but yk who cares..

warnings: smut, little swearing, pet names (baby), fingering.

summary: chris is having anxiety about work and you’re comforting him, something happens and so onnn… 😜

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

ೃ⁀➷

me and chris are eating pizza we ordered about 20 mins ago at the dining table, until we hear a buzz come from chris’s phone. he picks up his phone seeing a text message from matt, the message reading “nick didn’t like the video we recorded yesterday he wants to re film it” chris sighs as he put his phone down taking a bite of his pepperoni pizza.

“what’s wrong baby?” i ask with a concerned look plastered on my face. he looks up from his plate giving me a pleading look. “i have to go film another video” he mumbles putting his pizza down and picking at his thumbs. i take my hand and place it on top of his interlocking our fingers as i ask “right now?”

“probably. let me check” chris takes his free hand and picks up the phone typing into matts chat. not long after he receives a message back “yes chris right now, hurry up and get to the garage”

“fuck sake..” i heard chris say under his breath standing up from the table and putting his shoes on. “it’s okay chris, go film il wait in your room for you” i say standing up after him placing my hand on his cheek and giving him a soft kiss and leaving the kitchen.

-

as i watch rupauls drag race trying to get to where nick is, chris walks into his room hand on his chest and he shuts the door behind him and leans against it. i sit up from the bed pausing the tv “how was filming?” i smile. chris says nothing as he starts to pace around the room. “chris?” i say again thinking he didn’t hear me. “baby- i cant-” he begins being cut of by his breathing, “i cant- breathe-” he begins to panic.

chris has never had a panic attack before, i have them all the time. i know how to help after matt showed me how to calm them in elementary school, matt has them a lot too. “right chris i want you to listen to me,” i say calmly. i walk over to him taking his hand from his chest and walking him over to the edge of the bed “sit down for me.”

he sits at the edge of the bed looking up at me as he tries to catch his breath. i place his shaking hand on my chest “can you feel me breathe?” i ask him. “yes- baby- what’s happening” he says through breaths.

“just breath baby, feel how i breathe and copy,” i crouch down to look him in the eyes. he takes his hands and place them on my waist as he copy’s my breathing, inhaling and exhaling, inhaling and exhaling until his breathing slowly becomes more stable.

i sit down on his lap straddling him as he moves his hands under my shirt. “you okay?” i ask placing my hand on the back of his neck playing with his curls. he nods his head, “what was that, how did you know how to help?” he questions. “ a panic attack baby, i get them a lot. matt actually helped me when i had my first one” i say giving him a small smile and i move closer to his face brushing my lips against his.

chris hitches under me as he moves his hand further up my shirt and meets my boobs where he plays with my nipples. i re adjust myself on his lap making myself grind against him causing him to take a deep breath.

he takes his lips to mine and kisses me softly, his hands beginning to roam my body moving from my boobs to my waist to my thighs where he stops and squeezes. he deepens the kiss and slips his tongue into my mouth.

i moan into the kiss as i become eager for more, i grind my hips against his crotch making him groan at my actions. he pulls away from the kiss “so beautiful baby” he speaks hoarsely. he takes his hand off my thigh and unbuttons my jeans pulling them down and off my body, to which he throws them on the floor. taking his free hand he moves my thong to the side and he rubs his finger against my folds.

soft moans leave my mouth as he continues to rub me teasingly. “more” i whine. he nods at me slipping two fingers into me and begins pumping fast. my eyes roll to the back of my head as i put my head in the crook of his neck sucking on his skin.

as he pumps and curls his fingers inside of me all i can do is moan his name and grind his fingers while he watches me. “fuck” he mumbles as he hears my pretty sounds. curling his fingers and hitting the spot i loved most i begin to feel a knot in my stomach.

my walls tightened around his fingers as the knot gets more intense picking up his speed he continues to pump his fingers in and out. he takes his free hand and places it over my clit and begins rubbing in circles making my toes curl and head fall back.

after a while i release all over this fingers and his thighs moaning his name out load leaving a huge mess for us to clean up.

“that’s a good girl” chris says slowing down his pace as he kisses my forehead.

—————————————————————————

requested by: @mattybswife sorry it took me a while to write this 😣

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo x you #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader

[vanteguccir]

destructive home | m. sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Matt helps Y/N get through an anxiety attack.

Requested?: Yes, on Wattpad.

Warning: Anxiety attack, panic attack, toxic home, toxic father, fighting between parents.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N closed her eyes tightly feeling her head spin from the loud voices coming from downstairs. Unfortunately, her parents fighting was nothing new, and even less so was her father starting the fight.

Y/N's father has always been the type of father who is physically present but emotionally absent, living in the same house as the girl since her birth, but never really playing the role of a kind and welcoming father.

Quite the contrary, her father has always been a very demanding and controlling man, Y/N having witnessed his first attack of stress when she was just a week old, when her mother cooked lunch for both of them, but couldn't bear to eat everything on her plate due to the exhaustion of being a first-time mother, and her father started a series of screams demanding that she eat all the food, after all "he pays the house bills and the food in the cupboard and refrigerator and didn't want to see anything being wasted", ignoring completely the scandalous crying of the little girl, who understood nothing at the time.

And it was exactly in an environment like this that Y/N grew up, learning that staying silent all the time at home prevented fights from reaching huge peaks, but suffering the consequences with the fights inside her head, which grew more and more. With all of this, the girl ended up developing panic attacks and severe anxiety, which she only discovered through a quick diagnosis from her school psychologist, as her father refused to pay for a consultation for her and her mother did not have enough money to do it.

Y/N grew up with constant fights outside and inside her head, experiencing the most bitter moments inside her own home, where she had to face her anxiety attacks alone on the floor of her room, muffling the loud sounds of her sobs with pillows.

But whoever was listening to her cry through all this time, listened to her prayers and sent an angel into her life. Y/N met Matt two years ago in a cafe in the city completely by accident, the barista at the cafe ended up getting confused with their orders and handed Matt's to Y/N and vice versa, the two only realizing it after the first sip.

And since then Y/N no longer had to face her fears alone, her refuge in difficult times stopped being her cold and lonely bed and became Matt, with whom she could lean on in all the sad and happy moments too, and the best thing being that she, having experience with herself, could help him with his own anxiety attacks, the two of them moving towards a better mental place together.

But despite the willpower to improve and all the effort, there were days when it became more difficult. Y/N had woken up that morning with a bitter taste in her mouth and a heavy head, feeling like something was going to happen, and she wasn't wrong.

The day went by with a heavy air, the girl staying at home all day since it was a Sunday and Matt spent the day filming with his brothers the podcast that would be posted the next day, and all the weight that lived in the walls of her house seemed to have been transferred to Y/N's back, she couldn't remember the last time she felt that, and the fact that she wouldn't see Matt that day only made it worse.

At the end of the day Y/N understood why she woke up with the heavy feeling. Her mother was cooking something in the kitchen for dinner that would be served soon, which the girl was sure she would just grab a plate and go up to her room to eat alone, but during the process of making the food, her mother let some glass escape from her hands, making a thunderous noise.

Y/N was startled by the sound, getting up and running downstairs without thinking, just worried about her mother and wanting to understand what had happened, but while the girl calmed her mother who seemed in shock over the broken plate, her mind began to scream danger.

Seconds later the sounds of heavy footsteps became present and it didn't take long for the male screams to be heard, her father releasing several curses along with insults towards her mother and, consequently, towards herself as well.

Y/N felt numb, her father's voice becoming a background sound as a buzzing settled in her head. The girl wasted no time and ran upstairs, all she wanted was to get away from the fight.

It didn't take much more than a minute and she found herself closing the door with a bang, throwing herself on the floor next to her bed and curling up in a fetal position, her throat making horrible sounds as she tried to draw in air, which never seemed to come enough.

Her heart was beating fast and her hands were shaking tirelessly.

In a moment of sanity, the girl crawled to the end of her bed to get her phone, thinking about the only one who could help her at the moment. Her fingers raced to the emergency contacts, seeing only one in the listing, Matt.

She quickly clicked it, putting it on speaker and dropping the phone on the floor.

"Hello my love, we're almost done here. I was thinking about calling you next, what do you think about... Y/N?" The boy answered with a smile in his voice, stopping talking when he noticed a sound like a strangulation in the background. "Y/N? Baby, please, what's going on?" He asked desperately, standing up quickly from his seat in the recording room on the other side of the phone, fully gaining his brothers' attention.

The girl couldn't respond, barely able to hear him properly, her mind just processing that she needed air, her eyes closed tightly as she felt as if her room was shrinking in size around herself.

"Baby stay with me, I'm coming, I'm coming. Stay with me..."

The male voice seemed to come and go in Y/N's ears, and what took less than 10 minutes seemed to take hours in her fragile mind. The sound of her bedroom window opening echoed through the room as Matt entered the pink-walled room after climbing the roof of the two-story house, already used to the action.

The boy quickly ran towards his girlfriend, throwing himself on the ground, kneeling next to her and hugging her tightly, trying to bring her mind back.

"I'm here, baby. I'm with you." He whispered incessantly against Y/N's ear, feeling her smaller body tremble against his. "Baby, I need you to take a deep breath for me. Stretch, come on." He spoke, helping her straighten her spine and stretching her legs, leaving her sitting in an L-shaped position. "Can you breathe through your nose for me?" Matt asked, watching carefully his girlfriend's face, feeling his heart tighten at her state, her lips trembling, her cheeks hot and rosy, her face tense and her eyebrows furrowed.

Y/N tried to do as requested, finally being able to identify her boyfriend's voice, but the action seemed to lead nowhere.

"Come on, my love, I know you can do it." He asked in a whisper, feeling his eyes burn with tears. Upon seeing Y/N's difficulty in fulfilling the request, he quickly approached and sealed her lips tightly, briefly remembering when the girl did the same to himself during one of his worst crises.

Y/N stood still, her hands still shaking and her heart beating hard, but her mind seemed to contain itself and the loud noise inside her fell silent.

The girl felt tears roll down her face, opening her eyes, her vision slowly getting used to everything after being in the dark for several minutes. She calmly pulled away from Matt, drawing a breath of air into her lungs, feeling relief at being able to do so.

Y/N looked at her boyfriend's face, seeing him smile in relief as tears rolled down his own eyes.

"Don't cry." She asked weakly, pulling him into a tight embrace, pressing her cheek against his, their tears mixing together.

Matt let out a tearful laugh, sniffling as he brought one of his hands to Y/N's hair, stroking the spot.

"I'm just glad you're okay."

"Thank you Matt." She thanked him, hearing him sigh happily. Y/N snuggled closer into Matt's arms, still not having the strength to get up from the floor and he didn't seem to want to do so yet either.

"I love you so much, my love." He whispered a few minutes later, kissing the top of her head. Matt slowly moved back after getting silence in response, looking at his girlfriend only to see her with her eyes closed and breathing lightly, sleep having taken over her weak body from the intense moment.

The sound of two knocks on the door made him look up, looking intently to the door and ready to protect his girl if necessary, but relief filled his heart when he saw that it was Y/N's mother.

The woman had her face between the door and the frame, ready to check if her daughter was okay after the mess in the kitchen, but her worried features were replaced by a soft smile when she saw her daughter and her boyfriend cradled together.

"Thank you." She whispered truthfully to Matt, earning a nod before carefully closing the door.

The mother walked towards her own room with a light heart, knowing that Matt would do anything to take care of and see her daughter well.

#x reader #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #fanfic #fanfiction #love #sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #fic #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfiction #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fic #imagine #oneshot #angst #anxiety #fluff #matt x reader #matt #sturniolo triplets

[capiolumen]

Summer Musings 2023 iPhoneXR Hipstamatic Photography Original Photographers Photographers On Tumblr Lowy Lens, A-Type Plate Film, No Flash

#Hipstamatic #Original Photographers #Photographers On Tumblr #church steeple #stained-glass window #Lowy Lens #A-Type Plate Film #No Flash

[okwonyo]

homesick.

ᙏ̤̫ ⠀엔하이픈 ♡ female reader & idol au fluff established relationship + cw. not-proofread 0.5k ｜ ( bookshelf )

heeseung

before each concert, he calls you— the sound of your voice brings him reassurance and makes his anxiety goes away, like a charm.

claims that if he doesn't call you, the concert would go bad and doesn't want to risk anything. actually, when you come the his concert, the thing that brings him luck are you kisses but since you are not there with him, he needs to find something else.

jongseong

face calls you after his day and talks to you until one of you falls asleep— it's always you, he fights the urge to do so. the sound of your voice is a lullaby to his ears.

during those calls, he asks you about his day and talk about his— you chat for hours about how tasted the rice you ate today and how good the steak he tasted from his member's plate was. when you fall asleep, he doesn't hang up just yet and admires your visuals for a bit, until the arms of sleep pulls him in.

jaeyun

has notes dedicated to his travels; there, he writes every places he came across and really liked in every country he goes to— alongside with the places he wished to visit and the restaurants he wants to eat at.

they are entitled “where we should travel together”, of course it's all for the two of you to go when you will both have time, he thinks about the places you would like to go too and type them as-well— he even takes videos to show them to you.

sunghoon

takes loads of pictures of wherever he goes, make sure to take pictures he is sure you will like. with a rather big and stupid smile on his face, he brings out his phone when he sees something you'd like.

sends to you when the night comes, which makes your phone vibrate from the tons of notifications you get at the same time. “look :)” he captions most of them.

seonwoo

looks for you everywhere, small gestures made by all kinds of people in the streets remind him of you. he cannot get you out of his mouth each time he walks past a cute plushie you might like.

he gifts all his keepsakes from his travels to you when he comes back home, “it reminded me of you,” he says, with a box full of keychains, plushies and clothings of all sorts.

jungwon

does, sort of, little vlogs for you; always taking out his phone out of his pocket when he sees something pretty or, even, very random— just to keep you updated.

ever so often, excepts you to do the same; it barely even matter whether you are rotting in bed or doing shopping, he wants to see everything, as if he was still with you and you were still with him. watches all your videos with a cute smile on his face, wondering how someone could be this pretty doing nothing special.

riki

sends you voice notes; at any given moment, of what he is doing, to keep you updated on what he is doing. as if it was a log book; he gives you the hour and where he, precisely, is— even though you didn’t ask for that.

he loves to see your reactions to his little podcast, always as enthusiastic and excited as he is; he can feel it in your voice, the beyond genuine awe in your tone and the way a cute ‘whoa’ escape from your lips before commenting.

found this in the depths of my drafts TT

nets @k-films @kflixnet @/k-labels taglist open! @manooffline @ibsysbsfsunsbs @oldjws @lilriswife4life @alaezasmystery235 @teddywonss @tyussday @cholexc @flickqr @yuviqik @wvnrqs @strawberrywonz @y-ves @isawritesss @filmofhybe @ikeucakes @gweoriz @yunabi436 @ashtxrie @soul-is-a-strange-kid @jaelaxies @jwonsluvr @lynniebearrr-blog @bobabunhee @sunghoonsarmpit @ynsvnte @wonifullove @luvieden @shalkeren @thesunoosshining @smouches @okwons @sulkygyu @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @byhees @jwnghyuns @sleepyxxhead @baevsxii

#⠀♡ ꒰˵ˊᯅˋ˵꒱ ⠀ #kflixnet #k labels #k films #enhypen fluff #enhypen drabbles #enhypen imagines #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen headcanons #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts #enha fluff #enha drabbles #enha imagines #enha reactions #enha scenarios #enha headcanons #enha soft hours #enha soft thoughts #heeseung fluff #jay fluff #jongseong fluff #jake fluff #jaeyun fluff #sunghoon fluff #sunoo fluff #jungwon fluff #niki fluff #riki fluff

[mybelovedwoo]

Can you do wooyoung as a boyfriend? :D

YESS! I've been waiting for this request for a long time, thank you so much <3 I hope you'll enjoy :)) I'm sorry it took a while to write this, but I got caught up with a busy schedule all of a sudden.

jung wooyoung as your boyfriend - headcanon

headcanon, romance, fluff, smut

reader x bf!atz

wc. ~0.9k

an: i'm weak for this man you all know

you can request headcanons if you want to!! if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can apply here <3

masterlist

-i think we all know that wooyoung is your brat best friend type of boyfriend, who always puts you before himself and takes such good care of you, still can never stop teasing you

-he needs a lot of attention, like a lot. if your attention is not on him he will get all sulky and clingy. he would annoy you just to give him what he wants. even when you're talking to someone else he will cling to you from the back or to your arms

-but if the opposite happens, he just loves it so so much, it's one of his ways to tease you. he would play a video game or be on his phone and you would beg for his attention, he wouldn't give in so easily, but there would always be a cocky smile on his face

-gives you presents all the damn time, it's one of his love languages, he loves giving in general, especially when it comes to you. even if it's just a chocolate or a jewelry he will buy it when he thinks of you

-would even buy you pieces of clothes that he already has or buy one for himself too, so you guys could match in a cool way 

-he cooks your favorite dishes every date night. loves to experiment with food, you are his taste tester and would be the happiest when he sees you love what he made just for you

-also gives you all his food from his plate, he wants you to eat well, but you want the same for him so you always fight over it 

-late-night walk hand in hand by the river, watching all the night lights of the city, him giving you his jacket because you refused to bring yours, but now he freezes to death but loves it at the same time, stopping by a convenient store to buy snacks and ice cream, yeah that's just a casual friday night

-lots and lots of kisses. just gives you random kisses on your cheeks, doesn't care where or who is there it doesn't stop him (his members are already used to it)

-would kiss you passionately until you lose your breath, then he would smile to a final kiss because he feels proud of himself

-on facetime with you 24/7 when he's on tour

-he is basically best friends with your family and friends, in return, you are best friends with his mom

-has heart eyes for you, doesn't break eye contact, and flirts with you every given minute

-have cheeky nicknames for you like pookie, nugget, pumpkin (anything that he can think of at the moment), but your contact name is the sweetest "my one and only", also you are his wallpaper for sure

-brings you with him everywhere, literally you two are connected (at least that's what his members are saying). he brings you to work, you have to watch him dance and then review it or to a filming, you're always somewhere behind the cameras 

-would want to move in with you as soon as he can, because he doesn't want to spend any time without you

-calls you his wife in front of the members and his family, because you will be one day, he's sure about that

-if you're dating woo it means sometimes there's a plus one on your dates, san feels a little weird about it, he thinks he interrupts your special time but loves to hang out with you guys

-he hates it when san and you are allying against him, but deep down loves to see that you get along well, his two soulmates

-you have to cuddle him so he can fall asleep at night, usually you are the big spoon because this man loves to be cuddled

-his hand is constantly on your thighs or on your ass, he's shameless about it

-he is whipped for you, would literally do anything you ask him to do

nsfw +18!!!

-lots of people think he is a tease in bed too, but I think he is quite the opposite. wooyoung is a very impatient person, he cannot wait for long, especially when he wants you so bad

-I think I don't have to say it, but he is a sub in bed. likes to be taken care of and likes to be on the bottom

-there are times when he wants to take care of you tho, so he would switch and make you feel good all night long

-his hands all over your body, would touch everywhere he can reach, just can't get enough of you

-loves it when you kiss his neck, that's something he gets turned on immediately, also just compliment his body and this man is done right there

-very noisy, lots of whimpers and moans, doesn't really care if someone hears it

-i think he gets worked up pretty easily, so you guys would have sex every single time you meet or you sleep over at each other's place

-for positions, I would say cowgirl is the most common, but he likes everything where you are on the top and he can see you well

-blowjob is a must, even if you don't have sex, at a random bathroom of a restaurant or at the dance studio

-he needs cuddles after, just wants to hold you close to him and would praise you for such a good work you did, would definitely take good care of you after, brings you food and clean clothes, would feel very grateful and sentimental at these moments

#ateez #wooyoung #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #wooyoung x reader #ateez imagine #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung imagine #ateez wooyoung #ateez fanfic #jung wooyoung #wooyoung x you #wooyoung fanfic #wooyoung established relationship #wooyoung bf #wooyoung boyfriend #wooyoung smut #ateez smut #wooyoung headcanon #ateez headcanon #wooyoung bf headcanon

[euphoricfilter]

For the drabble game could you write fluff with youtuber bf jk ? I am not creative so I couldn’t think of a sentence sorry😭 but maybe he does one of those 24hr streams, I love your writing!

youtuber boyfriend! kook headcanons:

tags/ warnings: none. just a lot of fluff and feelings <3

notes: when i got sent this idea ages ago i got so excited. and i wrote three fics for it but hated them all and then made sure they were to never see the light of day. so my solution is to write some cute boyfriend headcanons instead to make up for it!! simply because i absolutely love this idea and i need to write anything for it to sate the need within me.

notes 2: this got slightly longer than i’d intended LMAO sorry 🕺

𓇻 i feel like jungkook’s channel has a plethora of videos, though he specializes in gaming.

𓇻 its probably one of his biggest passions. though i do see him dabbling in commentary, or even review type videos. maybe he’s a bit of a collector as well and goes on hour long rants about rare items or hauls of what he purchased over the years.

𓇻 i see the both of you probably meeting at one of those second-hand game and film stores.

𓇻 maybe you’re just milling around. more content to browse the movies than the games because you only own an old console (something cute like a nintendo DS) but they don’t really sell the game cards commercially anymore

𓇻 and jungkook loses track of why he was even there in the first place when he spots you. slowly scooting towards the corner you’re in.

𓇻 jungkook might not exactly believe in love at first sight, finds it a little hard to imagine loving someone so soon. but he definitely believes in destiny, even fate. and some small part of his mind had convinced him that surely this was just that.

𓇻 he’d be a bit shy about trying to approach you, mouth opening only for nothing to come out because what was he supposed to say? and maybe he accidentally startles you, offering to pay for the few dvds you had hugged to your chest as a lame sort of compensation

𓇻 he’d be the one to ask for your number, he’d be the first to text. you’d tell him later on it’s because you didn’t want to come off too head-strong. worried you’d scare him off messaging only hours after meeting. and then he’d tell you he had worried about the same thing

𓇻 jungkook wouldn’t straight out tell his audience he’d gotten into a relationship. it’s not that he was embarrassed about you, quite the opposite; he’d love to flaunt you to the world. it’s just he’d worry about the reaction from fans.

𓇻 he’d have a pretty hefty audience, a well established one even. and he wasn’t blind to the mean comments that would occasionally show up beneath videos or social media posts. he, himself, never found much issue in dealing with them, on occasion he’d get a little down but he knew that really he put himself up for this. he chose to show his face online, and with that would come some backlash. however, that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about you or how shitty comments would effect your well being.

𓇻 definitely the “in a relationship but it’s private” sort of photos would slowly creep their way onto his IG posts. maybe of little date nights— candles on the table with a dinner you’d cooked together (2 glasses, 2 plates and 2 sets of cutlery), or your favorite cake he’d tried to bake himself with the lego flowers he’d spent the previous evening trying to make (because at least you could look at the lego ones forever and they wouldn’t die). or maybe even your hand snuck in a photo or simply your silhouette beneath a sunset.

𓇻 maybe a few of your own collectible items had made their way onto the shelf in his studio. an obvious beanbag in the corner (you’d often sit there and read as he went through emails or scripted videos). valentines cards that he’d never thought to take down, or posters of yours that never exactly fit in the bedroom

𓇻 it would become apparent that he was in a long-term relationship when he’d film a moving video. so much of your stuff mingled with his own, split seconds of the shared rooms he’d add to the video before showing his audience his new office space. the extra shoes and cute little additions to his home; soft cushions on the couch, ceramics you’d begged him to buy. your hoard of plushies that took up half the bed or the stupid amount of skin care products stacked up in the bathroom. all a sure way of telling his fans that he was serious about you, even if they had no idea of your name or face

𓇻 maybe with enough comments he’d make a little announcement at the end of a video.

𓇻 “i know you’ve all probably guessed by now, but i am in fact, in a relationship”

𓇻 and then proceeded to talk about you for 7 minutes because really he wanted everyone to know how much he loved you. and truthfully he never knew when to shut up when it came to you, not when you were what’s on his mind most of the time. he’d tell them how you’d met, and how he had been absolutely enamored by you almost instantly. he’d show everyone the matching bracelets you’d made. grinning as he showed off the receipt he’d kept in his wallet from your first date together at a small cafe in town, mentioning how he kept a baby photo of you in the back of his phone too.

𓇻 the first time you’d show up in a video, he’d plan for the both of you to do some crafts together one afternoon. a hobby you’d been trying over the last couple of weeks, and jungkook liked to indulge you. loved to watch you sprawled across the floor of an evening with glue coating your fingers and way too much glitter imbedded in the carpet.

𓇻 he’d have been worried at first. asking you over and over if it was truly okay for you to be on camera, and after your reassured him with a kiss, he’d settle down slightly. though his anxiety had still clung to him, eyes flitting your way throughout the afternoon

𓇻 he could tell how shy you’d been, and had reassured you that really you didn’t even need to address the audience. he’d do all the silly little things you giggled at him for. and all you had to do was sit there and be pretty for him. you’d been a lot quieter than usual; itching to give him a kiss each time he was just so awfully jungkook. eyes like those of galaxies when he got something right, or the happiest smile on his face when you asked him for help

𓇻 the day he did a 24 hour charity stream would be when his audience sees you the most. milling around the house, making sure your boyfriend was fed and watered. maybe even sitting down and reading the chat when he wanted to shower. or answering questions while perched on his lap. he’d want to smother you with even more love when you’d catch his eye— a silent question if you were doing okay, that you answered all the questions correct. and he’d squeeze your thigh in reassurance, head resting over your shoulder as he listened to your voice, humming to let you know he was still listening

𓇻 you’d startle him at 4am, a little pouty that you’d had to fall asleep alone. dragging a chair from the kitchen to sit on as you watch him play a game you’d never seen before.

𓇻 “go back to bed, baby” he’d coo, “you’ll fall asleep sitting up and get a bad back”

𓇻 and maybe after that he’s a lot more open to showing you on camera. filming you on beaches, eating cakes and ice creams from a million different restaurants or dancing around hotel rooms or sitting on the balcony with the sun warming your skin when he takes you on holiday. short films dedicated to you with your favorite songs playing in the background

𓇻 maybe he even makes a playlist on his youtube channel, titled “my love” for every video that he includes you in

𓇻 idk just very much in love boyfriend kook who wants the world to love you almost as much as he does (because in all honesty, no one would ever love you more than he does)

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #jungkook fanfic #bts #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts fic #bts imagines #bts headcanons #jungkook headcanons

[heartfullofleeches]

Nymph Idol

Yan Church + "Incubus" Priest/Cult Reader [18+ Mdni]

Tw/Tags Religious Themes/Slight Trauma, implied underage drinking and dubious activities as a result (All parties are 18/19), Reader is G.N but mentioned to have a penis in some parts and is called "Mister" once. Reader (obviously) has no set features, but they do have a birthmark.

Faith had always been a unwavering staple in your life.

Raised by the people of your procreators' church; you were versed in literature beyond levels for those your age so you had voice to praise your Lord. Head of the youth choir, and the one chosen to begin prayer at dinner as you got older. Early on, the seeds of your influence on others sprouted during the primary years of your innocence. Walking into class that chilly winter morn, a classmate greeted you at the door, declaring their love to you with a letter in hand. They wanted to be the first, as your heart may have been lost somewhere in the clutter on your desk. Valentine's day - the day when those playground crushes could be seen as more and those holding passing stares could finally look you in the eye. A moment before, you never realized you had so many admirers. What could it have been that made so many look your way? You'd never know, not in this school - as once your parents found the notes in your bag you were shipped straight off to a school of the faith. And thus the cycle repeated.

For you, life was pretty much the same after the change. Go to school, study, help out the surrounding community as best you could. Outside of the little bubble you made for yourself, yet another flock of worshippers came to plate. They saw you as the silent, dedicated and hard working type - enamored by every word that came from your mouth. Even rejection fueled their desire as you let each person down with respectful and caring approach. They invited you to parties and hangouts, and while you never touched a drop of whatever they gave you - you agreed every time. Out in the real world, you came to the conclusion you were still that same sheltered child from years back. You'd neither kissed nor felt first love like those around you and in films you saw. You longed for the freedom of you, but the life of a priest was chosen for you before you were even born, and you had taken the vow of celibacy to heart.

You achieved your first taste of freedom at the end of highschool. To celebrate the graduating class, a nature retreat was scheduled. Seated between two of the most determined of your suitors - you could already tell this trip would change you for better or worse. Had the seats not been assigned, it would have been another hour before the bus took off with everyone dragging you around. These two were sure to win you in the end with their records and authority over their peers. One had been arrested and agreed to go to your school if the charges were dropped, the other forced with no benefit on their part - until they met you. Together, the pair grew close over their shared hatred of their environment, and become inseparable from their shared intrigued in you. When no one would look their way, you meet them with a smile whenever your paths crossed. So cute - just like an angel. The entire ride there, neither party removed their hand from your thigh.

"Wow, Y/n - your legs are really nice... You brought shorts with you right?"

"If you didn't, we have something you can put on."

The heat was instantaneous. Alone on a hot bus, your head swam from their gentle touches and praise. Noting the way you squirmed in your seat and squeezed the hem of your shirt over the source of your discomfort, they couldn't ignore you any longer. They were ready to suck you off right then and there under the cover of a blanket and let the whole class hear you sing. Alas, their fun was temporarily delayed by the arrival at your destination. You were the first off the bus with an express trip to the bathroom. Getting away from those two wasn't going to be as easy as you thought as they were your bunkmates.

Your only bunkmates.

Things started off harmlessly enough. Down at the lake, one would splash water at your shirt while the other whined that their bottoms were too lose. They'd complain about you wearing a shirt in the water, but you excused yourself due to the strange birthmark on your chest. They asked you to pick their outfits for the day, and snuck in your bed at night for nothing more than your warmth. As your days decreased, so went their subtlety. They'd stand in front of you in lines with the sole purpose of rubbing their ass against your crotch; their partner getting their share when you finally sat down and they sat in your lap. They'd walk around the cabin in nothing else but their underwear saying something about losing the towel tucked under your bed. When sleeping with you, one moaned so sweetly in your ear as their legs tangled with yours. Of all the nights they haunted your dreams, that was the first you woke with stained shorts.

Overtime you suspected they were finally giving up. They wore modest clothing, and you hardly ever saw them outside of activities or meals. You became alone due to them always sneaking out and in that solitude you committed acts of self pleasure you'd never done before. Your untaught hands felt like they'd been graced by touch of an angel as you chased your long awaited high - shooting ropes into the dainty fabric left under your pillow. The shame you beared for using their underwear mixed so perfectly into the pleasure that your vision went white as you came a second time. It wasn't long till the thing was soaked with so much of your release there wasn't any where for it to go, but your damp things. They left them there for that purpose, so it was okay - right? You'd rinse them and hand them to dry before anyone came back. It was one mistake that you could easily come back from.

"Well, well, well-"

Shit.

"The wait was longer than I'd like, but the results definitely make up for it. Come outside, "Mister Priest". We've been listening to you since you started and you're even cuter than I imagined. We'll treat you right."

You wanted to come up with an excuse or to at least be given the opportunity to clean up, but your mind was anywhere but your head at this point. They helped you fresh up partly by tongue-cleaning your navel and thighs with their tongue before leading you outside into the thick forest where their companion was waiting by the fire they'd built. They had two water bottles in their hands. One clear, and the other filled halfway with a dark liquid. The pair had stopped drinking for a while so your first kiss didn't taste like whiskey, but after both had explored the reigns of your mouth with their tongue it was back to gunning the alcohol. You drank a little too, or rather it was siphoned down your throat as they took turns spitting it in your mouth between kisses.

The rest of the night was a blur after that. You were talking about... something, but soon enough your cock was stuffed down one of their throats and all conversation was lost - your lifelong vows tarnished in one, sin-filled eve. Come morning, you woke with their numbers in your phone and their nude bodies against yours. Your head was killing you. Some water, and some gentle reassurance by your new lovers soothe the ache, and woke you to the world you now lived in. Drinking, having sex- What would they think? The people back home.... None of the people in your church did anything like this in their youth - as far as they'd tell. What were you supposed to do now?

"Baby...Relax. There's no harm in a little indulgence every now and then. You're still that same angel in our eyes. Horns just fit you a little better."

They.. They were right. You did have horns - presented in the lustful urges shunned and magnified by your upbringing. It wasn't you - it was a demon. That mark proved it. An insatiable beast. Your body was sensitive from the night prior yet you wanted more. To taste the flesh of anyone willing to give it to you. Slipping back into the covers - those believes were etched into your heart as you guided their heads down to the heat of your lust, mouths ready to please their new lord.

Life moved on after that. The goodbyes you shared with your lovers were more tearful than the nights you choked them half to unconscious only to lick their tears as they'd instructed. You saw each other on occasion, but moving to different parts of the country with no way to make visits permanent at the time shorted your hours together. When college began, they assured you their hearts would belong to you, and if you decided to seek out others they'd be fine with it. Their permission was not needed, but a nice gesture as you had already been scouting out your new playmate. The believes of the supernatural were strong in the new community, but faith prevailed. Show them a little proof and they'll take it that extra mile. Luckily for you, you had been born with all the evidence you needed.

"I try not to show this to everyone, but I know I can trust you now. I know you probably won't believe me, but it's the only excuse I have."

Taking off your shirt, their eyes always shoot to that birthmark on your chest, nestled on the skin of the cage shielding your heart. Some have described it as charred wings, others a crown of thorns. When you were in that stage of curiosity about the world around you, you always wondered what a hypothetical partner would think of it. Your first thoughts were fear or disgust, but the only thing you've ever seen on their faces is pure awe and need.

"I...was cursed by a demon at birth. My faith will always remain in the hands of God, but the effects of the devil's influence are relentless. I'm not strong enough to take care of it on my own... Will you help me?"

"..y-yes!"

With your charms, more eyes were drawn your way. Your lies kept your image clean. Day by day, it became easier for you to sneak your way in the beds and hearts of your peers. While your end goals were far from the realm of innocence, you still cared for this people and their well-being. It's what kept them crawling back -- following you after you graduated.

In priesthood, dozens came from all counters and backgrounds to see you in your prime. Many were old faces - awaiting the day you'd open your arms to them once more. If we're being honest here you've probably seen some of them during the weeks before. You never lied about your involvement with others, and if someone were to grow more jealous than you'd like them to be... they were taking care of before you had the chance to block them and move on. You still blocked them anyway, and messages from unfamiliar numbers claiming to be their families were deleted before you even knew about them.

In the eyes of your flock, you could do no wrong. An innocent member of the church, and a solider of their lord in need of their aid. Most have already abandoned their loyalty to that figure - use its name to raise your own. They whisper to those in the surrounding area about an idol that can teach them the true freedoms of life and erase loneliness from their hearts for the rest of their days. You're sure to give those brave and willing enough a private sermon they're sure to never forget. You finish every public prayer with a straight face and smile as you're serviced by your most loyal followers beneath the podium and your robes. A quick look underneath and you'll find whoever brought you to climax sharing the fruits of their labor with their neighbor through a sloppy kiss, savouring all you have to give. It took quite a while for you to detach your facial expression and sounds from such pleasure, but you've had years of practice by now. Your faithful pets and servants attempt to break that wall with every stroke and curve of their tongues fingers, or bodies - and you're more than welcome to let them try.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere smut #yandere harem

[alwaysonf1]

beauty and brains?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 3.6k

Warning: Mild Language.

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: N/A

Though the game the night before had them arriving at their hotels late production had them up at what felt like the ass crack of dawn.

Charles fought for his life to wake up and was happy he’d thought through pre-ordering room service because it arrived not long after his shower. He ate his food in silence, sleep still clinging to him and the coffee they sent not doing much to help bring him back to life. A late night didn’t usually do this to him, but he thought maybe despite his early arrival to Louisiana the jet lag may still have gotten to him.

He tosses the covering for his breakfast back onto the plate and sits back on the couch. His phone vibrates and though he’s half asleep and wanting to stay that way he picks it up, barely noticing it’s a call before he puts the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” he asks, voice cracking.

“Hello?” Daniel mimics. “Open your door.”

If Charles had it in him, he’d roll his eyes, but he hangs up and pulls himself off the couch with a groan. He undoes the locks and the door swings open, nearly knocking him over as the three men walk into his room like it’s their own space.

Daniel takes his spot on the couch while Carlos and Alex take the other two. Charles gives them all a look, but besides Alex, who looks sheepish, they look as if they’ve done nothing wrong at all. It’s a losing battle, so he sighs and plops down into the love seat perpendicular to the couch.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

Carlos shrugs. “We were up and restless, thought we’d come here and wake you up if you weren’t.”

“Well, I’m awake.”

“And we’re bored,” Alex says.

A second eye roll in what has been less than two minutes. He enjoys spending time with these guys, more so with how much closer they’ve become due to filming. But they were also annoying in the way friends could be.

“You cannot entertain yourselves?”

“We can, but we were talking, and we know you’re still as mind blown by this as the rest of us. Who knew Lewis had a secret sibling,” Daniel says.

Carlos nods. “And that she’s American.”

All of them nod in agreement, because even if that isn’t at the forefront of Charles’ mind it is something that they couldn’t have seen coming. They got to speak to her a little after the game before she was whisked off elsewhere and her accent threw him off. It wasn’t the one you default to for Americans, but it was clear that it belonged to some section of this country. Her mother’s was the same, which is why it was a little silly that they weren’t prepared to hear it come out of her.

To be fair to them there was a lot to keep up with this.

“Yeah, that shouldn’t have been a shock. But hey, there was a lot going on. That dancing though, it’s like things I’ve seen before, but not. Ya know? I asked Lewis and he said they’re called majorettes. I looked it up last night and it’s almost always this good. Especially since little Hamilton became captain, people sing her praises. There’s one that has millions of views on twitter alone. I’ll send it later.”

The others speak amongst themselves, and Charles feels his mind wander off. He thinks about how confusing and brilliant last night was. Every part of it. He’d never watched American football on a college level, and it was as entertaining as at a professional level. Then the band was in peak form. It got his brain working on music again in a way it hadn’t in a while. And of course, the dancing. If that was what the majorettes had to offer, then he was eager to see what else they had going on. 

“I’m a little surprised that’s how they decided to let us meet her. Lewis seems to be the protective type and that could have gone either way,” Carlos says.

“He trusts us not to be weirdos, even if he didn’t, we wouldn’t have been stupid enough to say anything on camera for everyone to see. You know F1 will put out anything, even if they have to apologize for it later,” Charles says.

Daniel snatches a bottle of water from the table and nods. “Plus, I’ve seen that man win multiple championships and I have never seen him prouder and happier than that. He clearly supports her and would want to showcase her talent.”

“True, but I wonder what that means for today. I’m guessing it’ll be something school related. If they have me do school work under pressure,” Alex says.

“Like Carlos when he forgot that he should be able to drive an F2 car.”

“Hey!”

They all descend into laughter, while Carlos glares at them, arms crossed, and eyes clearly showing he’s not here. Probably imagining how he panicked himself so much it was like someone asked him to drive Nascar.

A knock on the door puts a stop to the laughter and without a word they all gather their stuff and head toward it. Their main producer, Anne, is there and she looks worried. Then she notices the number of people and Charles watches her relax.

“Time to load into the van, everyone.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Daniel says.

They head out of the room, and with the weird speed of the elevator, are in the lobby in less than a minute. Lewis and Lance are huddled together laughing and some of the production crew linger around talking in groups. When everyone sees them, they head out to the vans awaiting them. 

When they get in Daniel and Lewis take the first row of seats while Alex takes the front and the other three in the back. The moment the seat belts click the cars are moving and Charles watches Daniel lean over to Lewis with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Any clues?”

Lewis looks contemplative and then he laughs.

“Hm… prepare to feel dumb.”

Daniel laughs. “So regular day at work?”

“You have no idea.”

From there it’s silence, but the kind where you can tell everyone is still a little tired. All their starter energy exerted, so now they need a moment.

It’s being tired and wanting to prepare himself for Charles. He went in yesterday with so little and he knows it showed, but he wants it to be a little different this time. There can be shock, but he doesn’t want to seem like anything they do and what she’s there to show them is something he didn’t expect of her. He’d hate to seem like he has any preconceived ideas of who she is. People who don’t like him would latch onto that and misinterpret, and there’s a possibility Lewis might too, but mostly he doesn’t want to offend. 

After twenty minutes of mindless scrolling, they pull up to a building. From their surroundings it’s clear that this isn’t where they should park, but it’s clearly been made so that if one needs to it can. 

Everyone piles out of the vehicle. And despite being the one who should get up first of the three, his friends are children who push him down and get out before him. Charles is on his third eye roll of the morning and the last to get out. And just as he does Iman emerges from the building and stands at the top of the steps with a smile. Today she’s in utility pants and a shirt that has a familiar emblem on it. 

“You're late,” she shouts.

“You told me eight, it's seven forty-five,” Lewis yells back.

“True, but I’ve had a man in here squealing about meeting a seven time champion and multiple F1 drivers. Have mercy on a girl who was forced to take an eight a.m. in her last semester will you?”

Everyone laughs at that, and they walk up the stairs toward her. She waits and then turns toward the building, but she pauses and turns around to face them.

“Where are my manners?” she asks, then points at Lewis, “And yours.”

“What did I do?”

She rolls her eyes and turns toward the other five drivers with a smile that makes Charles give her one of his. 

“I know all of you know my name and I yours, plus we kind of met last night, but let me properly introduce myself. I’m Iman Hamilton, little sister of this dweeb, captain of the SU Dancing Dolls, and a college student on her last semester close to losing her mind.”

She steps toward Carlos, hand out, and she shakes his. He gives a small greeting, and she goes down the line to each of them doing that. As Charles takes her hand, he notes her hands are soft, but the shake is firm.

“I’m Charles, it’s wonderful to meet you.”

“You as well.”

She also greets all the staff individually and then retakes her position in front of the door.

“Are y’all prepared for the horrors and wonders of an eight a.m. hands on class?” Her voice is fake cheery, and it makes Charles and Daniel laugh.

“Speaking of what would this class be?”

Iman throws her head back and laughs, then glances toward Lewis. “He is smooth.”

“Don’t let him get you.”

“Ooh, they talked about me,” Daniel jokes.

That sends laughter through everyone, and it lifts a weight that Charles didn’t realize was there. He was a little nervous, but he couldn’t understand why. But at least he could feel with the shift in everyone that it was a mutual feeling.

Without another word Iman turns and pulls the door open. Charles ensures he’s in after Lewis and catches a glimpse of someone rocketing back into a classroom. It must be the man that Iman was talking about. The excitement is flattering.

As they walk down everyone, especially the cameras, take in the space. There are pictures and many didn’t contraptions lining the walls. Probably as a representation of what goes on in this building. There was a sign on top of it, but it was too high to see where they parked. So, Charles looks up at the wall at the end of the hall and there he sees: School of Mechanical Engineering.

His eyes go wide unintentionally, but he reins it in and nudges Carlos. It takes a moment before the Spaniard sees what he does, and his reaction is very much the same. The others have already seen the sign and they look from the sign to the woman leading them and back. 

The smile that forms on Charles’ face reflects the pride he feels. Of course, he knows what it’s like to be happy and proud of his siblings' success in their fields, but in that moment, he understands why Lewis feels it. He understood last night, but when his mechanics and friends spoke about how engineering as a degree takes a lot out of you, he was sure. They spoke of sometimes struggling with it and normal life, so he couldn’t imagine an extracurricular that was probably as consuming.

The feeling dumb was definitely already starting.

When they reach the door to her class it’s wide open and in the center of the only space without tables stands a man old enough to be a teacher and students in similar clothing to Iman. Most seem giddy, some seem mildly interested, and there are one or two that look like they don’t care at all. Good for the ego.

Iman leads them to the center, standing directly across from her class and the drivers so she’s facing neither. Her hands go wide, gesturing to either group.

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet drivers currently a part of the F1 grid. F1 drivers, welcome to Advanced Internal Combustion Engines. We’ll be here for three hours, so I’ll leave the more personal introductions to you.”

She pauses and there’s a chorus of greetings that come from both sides. Charles watches as her lips part to presumably say something else, but then the man who is obviously the instructor takes center stage with a giddy smile. It’s a little amusing, but mostly nice to see him so excited about this. Worry about how roping siblings in this would disrupt their lives, even for a short time, has been a thing since the beginning. Especially when they may not have people to work for or with that would love this kind of thing.

“It’s nice to meet all of you. My name is Dr. Malcolm Johsnon. I’m a big enjoyer of F1 and racing in general, just as many of the students in this class are. My industry background is predominantly in IndyCar, which is why this class focuses a lot on the types of engines used in those kinds of race vehicles. Today as much as you’ll be getting a peak at Iman’s life, you’ll see what the students learn here and a glimpse at the parts that make your cars go. I’m open to any questions you might have at any time. 

Alex raises his hand. “Oh, if you worked or work for IndyCar, how did you end up teaching? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind at all.” He hitches a thumb in Iman’s direction, “Her mother can be very persuasive. She’d also taken a stint teaching as a break from working with IndyCar teams, so she had much to rave about. Plus, she wanted me here to make sure they taught her child right.”

That earns a few laughs, but Charles sees the odd look from a few students who are displeased but already knew this knowledge. Though it doesn’t feel like they’re displeased with their instructor, just Iman. An expected response to someone who uses the connections she has or in this case the connection just stepped in for her.

Which makes Charles pause. Wait, did he say Sherri?

“Your mother works in IndyCar?” he asks, his eyes on Iman.

“Has since before I was born. Racing is a family affair. Though more of us are on the engineering side than in the driver seat.”

When she says it, a fist extends out toward her from the corner of Charles’ eye and she bumps her fist against Lewis, smiling wide and winking at her older brother.

“But enough of that, though we’ve all agreed to this we still have a project to work on. And surprisingly multiple three hour classes aren’t enough time.”

There are several mutters in agreement and with that students disperse to the tables scattered throughout the massive room. Iman goes to one in the back with three other people. They get to work without a word and production and Dr. Johnson step closer to the drivers, forming a circle.

“Our focus is Iman and her life and what she does, but we don’t want all of you to just crowd her. As much as we want shots of what she’s doing and your interaction, we want this to be a learning experience just like the other times were. Engage with the other students without crossing any boundaries and maybe even see if any of that knowledge you get from your own mechanics is familiar here, okay? We’ll move you guys if we feel you linger here or there too long, but just go where you feel pulled. Also, there are some students who have little flags attached to their tables to signal they are most comfortable with questions, so look out for those but don’t shy away too much from the others. Got it?” Anne asks.

Everyone nods. She then gestures for Dr. Johnson to take the floor.

“And things get a little hectic, so over there is some PPE for y’all to use. I want this to be safe for them and for you. Cool?”

“Yes, sir,” Lewis says, and identical sentiments follow.

“Then let’s get started!”

Lewis is the first to break off and head toward the table. He grabs the goggles, a dingy rag, some sort of apron, and a pair of gloves and then makes a beeline for Iman’s table. Lance follows suit and that makes the first decision for everyone else. Charles sticks with Carlos as they grab their PPE and then head toward the closest table. There is a flag over it, but neither of the men say anything. They watch as one of the students takes apart their engine. It looks around the size of the ones inside of their cars, but something is different about it. Something off.

“Wait, did you grab the wrong piece?” A man, whose shirt has the name Stephen on it, asks.

Everyone pauses and looks to him and then to the engine.

“Uh, I don’t think s… Oh for fuck’s sake,” says the woman, Jennifer.

The curse is said so softly that almost all of them have to stop themselves from laughing, Charles has to cover his mouth and Carlos turns away, but you can see his body vibrating with silent laughter. Jennifer catches all of them and glares before walking off toward what looks like a storage space at the back of the room.

When shes out of sight they all laugh out loud. It takes a minute to pull it together, but they manage it.

Stephen turns to Charles. “You noticed it too? I saw you looking at it weird.”

This isn’t really his wheelhouse, so Charles feels himself get a little unsure of how to answer, but he reminds himself that these are students, and they expect some sort of failure when learning so even if he sounded silly it wasn’t like they’d look at him too harshly. At least he hopes.

“Um, yes. It looks like the one we use, I’ve seen it a few times and though it may not be the same, something about it didn’t seem right. Though I’m not fully sure what.”

Stephen nods.

“It’s definitely something that would stand out if you’ve seen them enough. It’s why she’s mad, she’ll usually catch it when we do it. But if ya want we can walk y’all through it. This is just us kind of playing around with ideas at this point, so we have the time.”

Charles finds himself excited again and he takes a few steps closer to the table.

“We’d love that. It’ll impress and confuse our mechanics if we come back knowing more than we did before,” Carlos says.

All the others introduce themselves and when Jennifer returns, they dive deep into what they’re trying to do. Though they only planned to half take it apart they disassemble it completely and get Carlos and Charles in on putting it back together. How they explain it is half dumbed down and half with the understanding that the pilots would have some knowledge of what they’re doing. Though everyone else has rotated, an hour passes before a producer pulls them away from the table. It’s with a little grumbling from both of them, but they get why.

The rest of their adventure is much the same, though for shorter bursts. Even the tables without the flags are more than open to answering questions they may have and as time goes by Charles realizes that with each table, he’s able to understand what the hell they’re talking about. And it makes him think back to all the times he’s been confused listening to his mechanics about a million things. It’s all clicking for him.

“Hey Sharl!” 

The voice startles him, and he turns toward it to see Lewis back at his sister’s table. The man is waving him over so Charles excuses himself and walks over. Daniel is making the table he’s at laugh at something and it’s probably some off the wall joke that sometimes has Charles looking at him like he’s lost it.

“Hi,” he says once he reaches the table.

“Hey. Saw you haven’t been here yet,” Lewis says.

“It was the next stop.”

“Mhm.” When Lewis says that there’s a look in his eyes that Charles can’t quite decipher so he doesn’t try to. He’s used to him keeping things a little close to the chest.

“Are you harassing that poor man, Lew?” Iman asks, without looking up.

“I’m not doing anything?” 

“Mhm, sure you’re not.”

“I’m not! Tell her I’m not harassing you, Sharl.”

Charles finds himself laughing at the two. It’s like something he and his brother’s would do. High pitched voice while defending themselves and all.

“He’s not harassing me. I promise,” he says.

Iman finally looks up, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.

“You sure you’re not just taking up for him, Charles? He’s not that big and bad, I promise.”

“I’m sure.”

“Let me know if he does, I’ll deal with him.” 

She winks at Charles and then gets back to her work, explaining why she felt the need to lubricate a piece more than is usually called for. Her partners look unsure, but they go with it. As she does it, she explains out loud what it should do to the two pilots and Charles is having a hard time splitting between Lewis’ pouting - which is losing steam by the second - what she’s explaining and watching her. She’s so focused and even when the piece gives her problems she keeps going, barely getting frustrated. 

And when she works, her smile is genuine and bright. 

#charles leclerc x black reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x black!reader #formula one x black reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x black!reader #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fan fiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fan fiction #f1 imagine #formula one x oc #formula 1 x oc #charles leclerc x oc