Tenderness

Tenderness

"Jimin has a hard time accepting that people don't want to hurt him. Something about you makes him ease up however and because of it, he asks you to cut his hair. You help him gladly of course."

Pairing: Jimin x f.Reader

Genre: slight Angst, Fluff, Hurt and Comfort

Warnings: Jimin has trauma, he's scared but she makes him feel at ease, like please give this man a hug, innocent skinship, also they're just friends currently but idkkk there is so much tension between them, god i'm going insane actually

Wordcount: 2.6k

a/n: i'm actually so sad :( also listen. the hug was inspired by the way Jimin hugs :( i fucking want a Mimi Hug no JOKE </3

You are in the back garden, pruning the roses when someone suddenly steals the sunlight from you. It had once warmed your skin. The air feels chilly in the shadows all of a sudden.

You stop working, lifting your eyes at the person.

Jimin. Dressed in a long arm shirt and flowy pants, he walked through the grass barefoot and with his long hair tied back. The fabric of his shirt is striped in black and white. He is hiding his eyes behind a pair of dark sunglasses. 

“You’re in my sun”, you tease.

“The sun doesn’t belong to you”, he throws backs sassily.

“I’d still prefer it if I had sunlight.”

“Too bad. I’m here now.”

You scoff in amusement, straightening up by rolling your shoulders. Such bickering is normal between you and him and amuses you these days.

“Do you wanna help me?” you offer him your second pair of pruning scissors, which he declines with a shake of his head.

“I have a, uh, favour to ask of you.”

You are working on the rose as you talk to him. He watches your movements with his eyes just slightly zoned out. 

“What’s up?” 

“Okay so, don’t laugh at me, but I talked to Tae and he said that you’re really good at cutting hair.”

“Yeah, I am. Nobody in this family wants to trust me, but I’m so good at cutting hair, like so good.”

He scoffs in amusement, reaching out to play with a rose leaf mindlessly.

“Sure you are.”

“Mh-hm, I am. Why did you ask him?”

“It’s just, I was wondering, uh, if maybe you want to do my hair.”

You stop working, studying him in surprise. You didn’t expect such a request.

“Your hair?” you make sure

Jimin nods his head. 

“Sure, uh, yeah I can. Just...why me?”

“Because you’re good, I already told you. And because Tae can’t cut hair. He thinks that he can, but he is shit at it. Don’t tell him I said that.”

“I’m not better than a professional though. Wouldn’t a stylist be better than me?”

“No, uhm.” He shies away, touching his own neck in soothing. “I’m not ready to, uhm. It’s hard for me to have strangers touch me. I, I don’t know them and, and I… uhm, they could hurt me. Uhm, it’s hard, I guess.”

“Oh”, you realise, “gosh Jimin, I’m sorry that you feel this way. I understand your feelings and I’ll gladly cut your hair.”

“Thank you”, he whispers, “see you later then. In my wing. Bye.” 

And with that, he flees, keeping his head low in embarrassment. You know that it wasn’t easy for him to share his feelings right now. He is a lot like Yoongi in that regard. Although Jimin is definitely that way because he was never truly allowed to feel. In more sense than one. Not only was he forced to keep his emotions off, he was also punished for any show of emotion which didn’t benefit his abusers. Sharing his feelings equalled being hurt to him in his past. So of course he fled the second he did it. You are still so proud of him for sharing his feelings. It means that he is healing. 

You finish garden work and take a quick shower. Knowing Jimin, he meant the evening hours when he said “later” so you don’t feel too stressed about going to him. 

After the shower, you have early dinner with Yoongi and Jungkook where you tell them that you will cut Jimin’s hair later and they show their expected surprise. When you tell them his reasons however, they react with empathy. They leave for a hunt after dinner, needing their own vampiric meals. You kiss each of them on their lips and wish them a good hunt, then you make your way upstairs to Jimin’s wing. 

He always keeps his doors locked because he feels safer this way, resulting in you having to ring his doorbell.

All of you have doorbells installed, which makes it a lot easier to visit each other. It was Taehyung’s idea and Yoongi had to be the one to install them. He did it gladly, gloating about how easy it was once it was done.

Jimin opens the door after the first ring. He is in different clothes and judging by the slight pearls of sweat on his forehead, he has been dancing. 

“Is it a good time?” you ask him.

“Yes. Come in.”

You step out of your house shoes once inside, while Jimin locks the door.

“Were you dancing?”

“Yes.”

“That’s nice. How’s the studio?”

“Good. I love the natural light in it.”

“It’s already dark though.”

“For you, yes. Not for me. The moonlight is better than sunlight”, he says and hurries past you, “wait in the living room. I need to shower.”

“Alright, will do.”

Jimin’s living room was once a guest bedroom. The one you stayed in during your first night at the estate to be more exact. Yes, That Night where Taehyung had actually planned on eating you before you, unknowingly, managed to change his mind. 

The room once smelled of oakwood and myrrh, but smells like orange blossoms and clean wood these days. The walls changed out of their outdated grey coat into a cherry red dress. White ceilings and a decorated voute seem to practically glow next to the red and the ivory curtains give even more lightness to the otherwise warm-coloured room. The furniture is antique, but in perfect condition and throughout the room, Jimin placed vases with fresh flowers. He isn’t afraid to show his sensitive side these days. It reflects in how delicate the decorations in his wing feel.

You lie down on his sofa. Its red pillows swaddle you, inviting you to close your eyes for a while. It is so comfortable here. 

You probably would have dozed off for a post-dinner nap if Jimin hadn’t woken you again. His steps are quiet normally, but the floorboards creaked under his weight as he walked to you.

You sit up, “I’m awake.”

“Sure”, Jimin says sarcastically, eyeing the deep dent you left in his throw pillow, “just so you know, that pillow is a hundred years old and the stitching is delicate.”

“Huh? Hm?” You look at the pillow, smoothing it out. “Sorry. Nothing happened, I swear.”

“Don’t sweat it. Can we start? I wanna get it over with”, he says and leaves the room again.

With a grieving heart – a nap sounded so good – you leave the comfortable couch to follow him. 

You find him in his bathroom, sitting by the powder table in only his towel. The silver scar on his back contrasts against his black tattoos. He is tracing the entrance point of the scar on his chest mindlessly, but lifts his eyes when he senses your presence. His hand lowers, the self-disgust disappearing from his eyes. He shifts in embarrassment, clearing his throat.

Knowing him, he wants you to ignore his scar. He can’t stand it when people mention it. It is already awful enough that he has to look at it each time he undresses. 

“Anything in particular you wanna get?” you ask him as you close in on him.

“Just shave it there and give it texture on top”, Jimin says, lifting up his hair to show you his neck.

“So undercut with some length on top?”

“Yeah. It’s hot and I need air.”

“Right? It’s so hot lately. This summer is insane”, you agree, picking up the shaver, “should we go with the setting you have on?” 

“Yes. But make sure the fade is good.”

“I will, don’t worry. Is it okay for me to touch you?” 

Jimin glances at you. Surprise and gratefulness. He can’t keep up eye contact, lowering his eyes at the table as he nods his head. 

With his consent, you touch his hair. You run your fingers through it, eyeing his hands. They ball to fists at the first contact, tightening with such strength that his knuckles pale. He is scared.

“Did you practice choreography?” you ask him in hopes of distracting him.

“No I.” He clears his tightened throat. “I guess I just danced.”

“That’s nice too. I’ll shave it to up there. Is that alright?”

Jimin inspects the point you show him and nods his head. You pick up the shaver and turn it on. Jimin moves his head away when you put it close to him, flinches and moves back again.

“Sorry”, he whispers, glancing at you in embarrassment.

“Don’t apologise. Did you change your mind?” 

“No.”

“Alright. Want a break?”

He shakes his head silently.

“Alright. Just tell me if you need it”, you say and put the shaver against his neck.

Jimin is tense during the first couple of shaves, but relaxes soon when his traumatized mind realizes that you genuinely don’t want him harm. He even opens his fists and begins playing with his bracelets mindlessly. Only around his ears, a certain stiffness returns to him and his eyes ghost over the shaver fearfully. 

So you give him a break, soothing him by tracing his ears softly. 

“Gotta clean you up”, you tell him even though both of you know that this was just an excuse to mask the gesture of comfort you give him. If you didn’t mask it, Jimin would get way too embarrassed however. 

He is tense at first. His eyes switch between your hands, your face and the shaver you put aside. 

You reach the spot right behind his ear where the harder point of his shell blends into the softness of his lobe. You rub it slowly. Jimin’s lids flutter, his head sways back just once before he fixes it again.

Another rub of the same spot and Jimin’s head rolls back again, lids closing halfway as goosebumps cover his skin. Yet another rub and he breathes so deeply that his chest lifts and sinks visibly, eyes closing for just a second before he forces them open again.

He straightens up, glancing at you in embarrassment. You act oblivious for his sake, giving his shoulders an innocent rub.

“There we go. Now you’re clean. I’ll continue.”

“Yeah. Okay”, he whispers, staring at you in the reflection of the mirror. He can’t truly make sense of the emotions in his chest and what they mean. He also can’t stop them and so he stares.

Jimin doesn’t flinch away anymore when the shaver touches him. You can finish the shaving without any more obstacles. He even stays calm when you shave him around his other ear. Only for a split second his neck tensed up, but relaxed within a breath because he felt safe more than he does troubled in your presence. 

You place the shaver on the table and use a fluffy brush to sweep away any stray hair. The sensation sends shivers down his spine. He tries to cover them up as best as possible.

“Do you like the fade?” 

“Yes. It’s, uhm, it’s what I wanted”, he speaks quietly, looking at himself with sparkling eyes. He doesn’t even notice that he is gazing, too mesmerised his new look has him. 

“Nice. That’s good to hear. I’ll just do the texturing and then you’re done.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

His words are honest, bringing a smile to your lips.

“Of course.” You pick up the scissors, showing them to him. “I’ll use these.”

You give him time to observe the potential danger. He nods his head in consent. You begin. He doesn’t tense because you gave him the opportunity to prepare. 

“Your hair is fun to work with. You’ve got so much of it.”

“Thanks. It’s hot during summer.”

“I can imagine. Should I take some length too?”

“Yes, please.”

You can finish the cut with no obstacles, moving on to the last step instantly. You clean him and then style him with a light mousse. He lets you with gratefulness in his eyes. Truly, he can’t stop looking at you. It is as if something about you has him captured. You don’t notice his eyes on you because you take your job as his hair stylist way too seriously and are blind to anything but his hair.

“There we go. Now you’re done. How do you like it?” you ask, finally meeting his eyes. For but a moment, your breath hitches. He never looked at you like this before. “Uh..”

Jimin clears his throat and shifts his eyes away. The air is charged between you and him, but neither tries to talk about it.

You take a step back. Jimin looks at himself for a while. His expression is stoic and if you didn’t know him better, you would think that he hates the haircut. In the end however, a small smile hushes over his lips and he nods his head.

“I like it.” 

You smile proudly.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

He shimmies on the chair awkwardly, touching his new undercut.

“You can, uhm, leave now if you want to.”

“How about we clean up and then show Tae your new style?” you suggest because you know he doesn’t actually want you to leave, but thinks that you already want to.

“Yes. Okay.” He turns away to hide the giddy smile. “Do you think we can get him to watch a movie with us?”

“I think that he’ll be the one to suggest it.”

Jimin laughs. You laugh with him.

“Yeah, that actually sounds like him”, he agrees. 

“I bet he wants to watch one of his boring French movies.”

“They’re not boring, you just have no taste.”

You laugh, “no I do. His movies are like five hours long. That’s way too long.” 

“Don’t tell him that.”

“Oh honey, I do. He knows and teases me for it.” 

You and Jimin share laughter. Your eyes meet. The tension in the air is almost suffocating.

His smile drops. 

You stop laughing, feeling tight in your chest for but a second, “what’s wrong?” 

Jimin stands up and turns to you so he can close the distance.

You instinctively take a step back, but Jimin still pulls you close.

He hugs you. 

“Oh?”

Jimin hugs as if he is overcome with adoration. Jimin hugs as if he needed the other for his survival. Jimin hugs as if he thanks the universe for the other’s presence. He doesn’t hug often, but when he does, it is spilling over with his honest adoration.

You didn’t expect it right now, but can’t deny that it melts you. He has one arm around your waist strongly and cradles the back of your head with his other hand, while his cheek rests on your shoulder with his face hidden in your neck. You can even see from the reflection in the mirror that he has his eyes closed. He hugs just like him. With his entire heart and soul. 

You hug him back with just as much tenderness, rubbing his back slowly. Goosebumps follow your touch. He melts into your embrace. 

“What’s that for?” you ask him quietly.

“Haircut.”

You chuckle, “do you like it that much?”

He nods his head and gives you a squeeze.

“Thank you”, he whispers. 

You know that he doesn’t only speak of the haircut. That he thanks you for giving him the space and time he needed to realise that the haircut won’t end in pain for him. You smile fondly, squeezing him back.

“Of course. You can always come to me for help.”

“I will.” He holds you so close and breathes your name. Nothing else follows. Just your name. Said with just as much heart and soul as his hug carries.

Softy Jake》

Daylight

pairing (s): jake lockley x reader

word count: 1.2k+

warning (s): fluff, jealousy, and lots of fluff

moon knight masterlist

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

His heart raced when you smiled. 

Jake could not believe what was happening to him. Seeing a beautiful smile on your face, it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside, scaring him a bit with the power you had over him. You were so pretty and so kind, and sometimes it made him worry that someone would take advantage over your kindness. But your big heart was one of the many things that he adored about you, and he would not change it for the world. 

He was not supposed to feel this way. 

He felt so undeserving of you, and it was as if he was dragging you into his darkened life. He had nothing good to offer you, and it would be a lie if he say he was not afraid of hurting you. He was not used to love and affection, but every time you said you were in love with him, his heart melted and a huge smile found its way on his face. He was happy with you.

You were like an angel in his eyes. He could not believe that you were in love with him. He thought you deserved someone like Steven, who would know how to treat you better than he could, being the sweetest one among them. But you fell in love with Jake, and not anyone else— It sent pride wrapped around his chest every time you looked at him with so much love in your eyes. Only him. 

“I got you flowers!”

No one had ever gotten him flowers before. It was strange to feel so appreciated like this, but he liked it, especially when you looked at him like he had given you the moon and the stars. 

“I’m supposed to get you flowers, Y/N.” 

“You did.” 

You responded casually, and he could only smile. He did get you flowers every day of the week, knowing how much you loved the gesture. And if he would kill to see you happy, getting you flowers every day was not a trouble to him. But of course, you would want to return the favour once in awhile.

“Do you like the flowers?”

Jake’s heart soared. He nodded, pulling you in for a kiss to show how much he loved the flowers you got for him. 

“You could give me a dead rat and I would still keep it forever.”

He said, making you laughed at his words. Oh, how could someone be so perfect? He questioned himself every time he saw your smile. 

“No, you deserve all the pretty things in the world. A dead rat isn’t pretty now, is it?”

You tilted your head a bit, grinning at him. Jake would die from the amount of love you were giving him, but he would not mind as long as he got to have your love. 

“You’re the prettiest.”

A sly smirk was dancing on his lips, as you hid your face in his chest, flustered at his compliment. But then you looked up at him, a shy smile was on your face, as you caressed his face. 

“Well then, it means that you deserve me.”

He believed you. Perhaps it was hard to tell himself that he deserved you, but now he never really questioned in anymore. He knew you would always come running into his arms, showering him with your endless love and adoration. 

Jake had never seen you angry. He started to believe that you were incapable of getting angry. You got annoyed at people sometimes, but never once did you blow up in anger. It was odd to know that you were very different from him, but it was a good difference. 

However, he finally knew that you were capable of getting angry. 

It happened when he was with you in the bookstore. Both of you were holding hands when you entered the bookstore, but then you got distracted by the books and let go of his hand like you always did. Jake could only sigh, shaking his head as he started to look for you. He could tell that you did not even notice that you had wandered alone, being too engulfed in your excitement. 

“Um, hello?”

He frowned as he turned around, only to find a woman who was smiling at him. He did not even try to hide his annoyance. He just wanted to find you, and now this woman was bothering him. 

“Are you looking for something? Maybe I can help you.”

“Do you work here?”

“No, but I can help you.”

She quickly said, and Jake almost rolled his eyes at her. He knew what she meant, with a flirty smile that she was flashing at him since he looked at her. He shook his head, not wanting to ruin his good mood by being annoyed at a stranger. 

“I’m looking for my girlfriend.” 

He blatantly said, his eyes wandered around the bookstore, still trying to spot you. He thought she would leave, but she put her hand on his arm instead, taking him by surprise. 

“You’re funny. I like you.”

She chuckled, and Jake was more than annoyed. It did not help that he could not find you, and now this woman would not stop flirting with him. Before Jake could say anything else, someone slapped her hand away from him. His eyes widen when he realised it was you, his sweet and kind girlfriend. 

“You’re touching my boyfriend.” 

Anger was dripping from your voice, and Jake had never heard you speak that way before. You stood in front of him, as if you wanted to hide him from the woman’s eyes even if it was impossible since he was taller than you. But the thought of you being so protective of him was fluttering his heart. 

The look in your eyes was frightening but the woman did not budge. She sent you a smile, thinking of it as a joke. 

“It’s not a big deal—“

“It is. Now stop staring at my boyfriend before I break your nose.”

At your threat, her smile dropped and she left without any other word. Jake could not believe his ears. Did his beautiful angel just threaten to break someone’s nose? He was a little bit worried to know that you could get angry if you wanted to. 

“I already told her I was looking for my girlfriend.”

You looked at him, softening your gaze as your anger disappeared. Suddenly, you were all smiles and giggles again, as if you did not just threaten to hurt someone a few seconds ago. Jake took your hand in his, not wanting to lose you once again. 

“I’m sorry that I let go of your hand. I didn’t notice.”

He grinned at you, still not believing what just happened. You knew what he was thinking, and you just rolled your eyes. He mentioned it once that he really wanted to see you angry, but you just laughed at him. It seemed like it was his lucky day. 

“I’ve never seen you so angry before.”

“I wasn’t angry, Jake.”

“You were. You were going to swallow her whole if she didn’t leave.” 

You just smiled, kissing his cheek softly. Jake let out a sigh of content, glad to know that you loved him so much that you would fight someone for him. It was shocking, but he loved it. 

“That’s because I love you.”

Your declaration of love for him always caught him off guard, leaving him smiling like a fool in love. But nothing could compare to when you smiled, love bursting into flame in his chest. 

His heart raced when you smiled. 

.•° ✿ °•. .•° ✿ °•. .•° ✿ °•.

a/n: I promise you I'm a Steven's girl but the idea of Jake being all soft on me and me alone makes me so happy <3

Growing up with a deatheater father doesn't teach you much about emotions, so when Theo finds himself developing an infatuation with a muggle-born, he thinks she gave him a love potion.

Pairing: Theo Nott x granger!fem!reader

Words count: 1.9k

Warnings: jealous Harry

I think I'll write a part 2 of this sometime

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

Unveiled Desires

It was strange to him. So strange how he went from mocking, annoying and occasionally bullying her every step she takes to secretly wanting her. Wanting to have her, or even needing her.

He didn't know how or when it happened, but one day he realized she was constantly in his head. It creeped up on him in small steps and eventually he had developed an infatuation for the girl.

Of course nobody knew about it, Theo wouldn't dare telling anyone. He just kept with his antics, hoping the obsession will somewhat disappear one day. Unfortunately, the more he tried to get rid of this feeling, the more he gave it power, the more it grew.

But he couldn't be with her. He couldn't be with a mudblood.

But he wanted to be with her. The more he thought about it, the less he cared about the blood status. He cursed at himself for these thoughts. Raised by a deatheater father, he would get disowned for dating anyone who wasn't a pureblood.

"Granger, can I talk to you for a second?" A question left his mouth as he approached the Golden Trio. Who was better to talk to about Y/n than her older sister?

The three Gryffindors looked at Theo as if he wasn't good in the head. Just casually wanting to have a chat, a normal chat, with someone outside of his social circle. Pretty unusual for a Slytherin.

"What is it?" Harry asked protectively.

"I was talking to Granger. I need to talk privately."

Hermione looked at Harry and Ron, exchanging suspecting glances. Eventually she spoke, "Alright, but make it quick."

"Great, let's go." Theo started walking, but Hermione stood in her place.

"Where are you going?"

"Somewhere they," he gestured to Harry and Ron, "aren't gonna eavesdrop."

Hermione crossed her arms on her chest, a knowing expression on her face.

Theo raised his hands, "It's not a trap again, I swear."

The girl sighed and walked after her rival.

Hermione and Theodore weren't fond of each other not only because of their houses and their blood statuses, but also because they were academic rivals. Both of them were extremely competitive. Since first year they aspired to be better than one another in pretty much everything.

"Can we stop already?" The girl asked. "I'm pretty sure they won't ear us from here."

"Alright, alright." Theo agreed. "But I need you to promise me you won't tell anybody about it."

"Why me? Why would you trust a Gryffindor with keeping a secret for you?"

Theo lowered his voice to a whisper, "Because it's about your sister."

"What?!" Hermione's voice was the opposite of a whisper. "What have you done to her?!"

The boy gestured telling her to lower her voice. "No, I didn't do anything. She has done...something."

"What on Earth could that possibly be?" A little more quiet, but still unpleasantly surprised, she decided to listen to him.

One last time, Theo looked around to make sure there's nobody there who could be a witness to what he was about to say.

"She used some spell on me." He accused. "Or put something in my food, my drink."

Hermione scoffed with laughter. "You must be joking. You bully her for whole five years, but one time she pays you back for it, it's an issue?"

"Not like that." He took a second to gather his thoughts. "Granger, do you remember how we learnt about amortentia few weeks ago? I think Y/n gave it to me."

Hermione started at the boy for a moment and then burst out with laughter. Y/n wasn't the issue, there was no way a fifth year would be able to make amortentia. Not even Y/n Granger.

Theodore felt annoyed and offended by Hermione's reaction. He looked at her with disgust. "What is so funny to you about it, mu-, Granger?"

Noticing how he almost called her a slur, her expression immediately became serious. "Seriously? You know what, deal with it by yourself. I don't even know why you're telling me all of this."

"Why? Because you have to talk to her, tell her to do something about it! Tell her to stop it!"

Hermione got a brilliant idea.

"You know, I've heard professor Slughorn had a remedy for amortentia."

"Yeah, and I'll end up in the hospital wing like Weasley."

"It was poisoned mead, not the amortentia cure itself. You can ask him to make one from the ingredients in the classroom."

"I will," Theo scoffed, "look at you being useful for the first time in your life."

Without another word, Hermione walked away. "Boys..." She muttered to herself.

"Don't tell anyone I told you this!"

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

"What?! He likes me?!" Y/n asked with blush on her face. "Theodore Nott likes me? The boy that has been bullying me for the past five years?"

"And the thinks it's because you gave him amortentia." Hermione giggled.

Y/n wouldn't ever think that he could be into her and the whole story that her sister had told her was simply unbelievable. But Hermione had no business in lying to her very own little sister, especially not about that.

"Does anyone else know about this?"

"Not yet, but I talked him into asking Slughorn for the cure! I suppose he'll do this tomorrow after class, as soon as possible."

"Who are you and what have you done to my sister?"

The girls were sitting alone in the common room and as Y/n laughed, Ron and Harry walked in.

"What are you two laughing about?" Harry asked, ready to hear that story.

"Can I tell them?" Hermione looked at Y/n. The younger Granger nodded. "Nott likes Y/n."

The girls and Ron laughed, meanwhile Harry stood there with his lips in a thin line, far away from laughing.

"The best part is," Hermione continued, "he thinks Y/n gave him amortentia!"

"What?" Harry spoke eventually, his voice a bit more surprised than it should be. "Y/n, did you give amortentia to Nott?"

"No, why would you accuse me of this?!" The youngest girl defended herself. "Is it that unbelievable that he can fancy me?"

"I mean... You're a muggleborn... And-"

"And what?! Does that mean I'm not worthy of that? We don't know him, maybe he doesn't believe in this whole blood purity thing."

"He does. That's why he hasn't asked you out. And he never will. Because they're all the same."

Y/n's eyes became a little glossy, the tears ready to start flowing anytime. "Are they, though? And you're saying this. You, whose godfather was Sirius Black."

"Sirius was different!"

"We don't know because we don't know what Theo is like!"

"Theo? It was Nott for the past few years that he was tormenting you," Harry put an emphasis on the word bullying, "now he fancies you and he becomes Theo?"

"I would actually give him a chance. It's not his fault that he was born into a blood purity obsessed family."

"Don't you think that's a little pathetic? Running into his hands the moment you find out he might fancy you meanwhile you had chances to date...other Gryffindors."

"Pathetic? You call me pathetic?"

"I didn't call you pathetic, I said what you do is-"

A sound of a slap filled the room, but the following silence spoke even louder. Y/n looked Harry in the eyes, a light red mark on his cheek that her hand left.

Harry could see and sense that it was too much, he said unnecessary words. He regretted them, but he just couldn't stop them from coming out.

The Golden Trio watched Y/n run upstairs. She was so glad nobody else was in the bedroom yet.

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

"Excuse me, professor," Theo walked up to Slughorn after the class on the following day.

All the other students were slowly exiting the room, Harry's eyes fixed on the Slytherin standing by the teacher's desk.

"Yes, Theodore?" Slughorn asked. "Do you have some more bright insights you'd like to share with me?" He was clearly happy to have this conversation.

"I actually need help, professor."

The man's expression dropped. "Yes? Do you have a problem?"

"I'm worried that I've been given amortentia."

Slughorn's eyes widened. He was surprised or even shocked. "Are you sure? I remember seeing other people under the influence of several love potions and you don't quite match the criteria."

"There's this girl who I can't stop thinking about... I suspect she has given it to me."

"Who that might be?"

Theo waited until all the other students exit the classroom before he said the name.

"Y/n Granger."

Y/n stopped in her tracks just as he was about to enter the potions classroom. She was about to show the teacher a part of her project, wanting to consult the texts she has written. Instead, she stopped and decided to listen to the conversation.

"Ah, she's one of the best students in her year," Slughorn said proudly, "but I assure you - she wouldn't do that to you."

"How can you be sure, professor?"

"Well, could you describe your symptoms, Theodore?"

"Whatever I do, Y/n is on my mind," the boy admitted, "I can't eat, I can't sleep, I zone out thinking about her. It's not normal, I've never experienced it before."

The teacher gave his student a sympathetic smile. "My dear boy, you might be experiencing the actual feeling of being in love."

"What? And how could it have been caused? Was it a love potion, after all? Maybe a spell?"

"It's a part of muggle science, biology. The chemicals in your brain cause it and it's not something you can control. It happens when it happens. A truly beautiful feeling."

Theo's mouth twisted into a dissatisfied grimace. "Is there anything I can do about it?"

"You can talk to the girl about it, for example," Slughorn looked at the door and shouted, "come in, Y/n!"

Y/n cursed to herself in her thoughts. How could he know she was there?

The girl walked in shyly, holding a paper in her hands. "I wanted to show you my paper, professor," the girl spoke, "if there's anything you think I should change or... anything."

As the girl handed the paper to the teacher, she looked at Theo. They stood dangerously close to each other. The silence between the was so loud, Y/n was praying for the teacher to say something. Anything.

"Amazing, Mrs Granger," he spoke eventually, "although the Draught of Living Dead is an extremely difficult potion to make. I'm glad you're so ambitious, but I'd suggest you get help from someone more experienced."

"I'm pretty sure I can do it on my own." Y/n assured.

"Maybe Mr. Nott here could help you. The sixth year has been just learning about this potion, actually. Theodore, would you be so kind and help Mrs Granger?"

Suddenly, Theo's gaze somewhat softened. There was no more disgust in his eyes. When he stood so close to Y/n, he wondered why did he act the way he did. Why did he do all the mean things to her. Maybe he had always liked her, but didn't want to admit it, even to himself alone.

"Yes, sure," he said, "I can help."

Y/n felt happy. For some reason, she didn't dislike Theo for all the things he did. She secretly always liked him, he was attractive, and she would even sometimes daydream about the day he would finally talk to her like a normal person. Maybe the day has finally come.

I love soulmates but also this-

Hiiii pretty star,

Me again.

📝Can I get a little something with Theo and the prompt cuddles after being touch starved? I feel that with his mother gone and his father being who he is, Theodore deserves all the love and snuggles in this world. Thank you 🤍

"My house of stone, your ivy grows, and now I'm covered in you"

Theodore Nott, despite popular belief -mostly his-, was easy to love. Your relationship was still fresh, you two were slowly getting to know eachother; favorite hobbies, habits. And most importantly, each-others love language. 

Your favorite way to love someone is by touching them. Kisses, holding hands, looping your arm around them, playing with their hair; that is how you show love, and it is how you show Theo you love him.

He however is not used to that. You had suspected so one day, when you two were walking, casually talking to eachother about your day; out of habit you grabbed Theos hand, lacing your fingers together. His hand tensed at first, as if he was entirely unfamiliar with this feeling, and lost his train of thought, mumbling words and excuses until he grew used to your touch and picked up the conversation from where he left it.

Your suspicion was confirmed one night. You were tired and stressed; homework was piling up, quidditch practice was more constant and you had taken up way too many extracurricular activities. You ran straight to Theos dorm, needing the comfort of his presence to ground you, calm you, help you recharge your energy and get ready for the days to come. 

You found him in his bed, with a book you had recommended to him, in his hands. You quickly walked towards him and he greeted you, lifting his eyes from the pages, “Hello.”, he said with smile “Hi.”, you mumbled back, way too tired to pretend you weren’t. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked as you changed out of your clothes and into an old sweatshirt of his. 

“Exhausting day. Exhausting week.”, you replied with a deep sigh and then settled next to him in his bed.

You rested your head in the crook of his neck and looped your arm around his shoulder, breathing him in “I want to stay here forever.” , you mumbled with your eyes closed.

But, instead of a kiss on your forehead or his arm hugging your back you felt him grow tense and his heart beating really fast against his ribcage. You raised your head worried, and looked at his face “I- am I crashing you?”

“Ah- no…no, this is new to me, that's all.”, he quickly said nervously

“Oh, I am sorry, I didn’t think-“, you exclaimed and moved your body off to give him space.

He stopped you, quickly and guided you back in his arms, “No, don’t go, I like it.” he whispered in your hair. His body was more comfortable now, moulding into yours, his muscles weren’t tense anymore and his limbs shifted to keep you close to him.

“Stay.”, he whispered in your hair and you let yourself close your eyes, and drift off, finally able to relax, in the arms of the person you craved all week.

After that night he simply couldn’t let you go. His hand is always clasped in yours, or settled in the small of your back or around your shoulders. He kisses your forehead goodnight and greets you with a peck on the lips every morning. And his favorite; whenever life feels heavy, he will lay on your chest and let you play with his hair, causing him to forget all his troubles.

He is learning how to love and be loved and his favorite thing is that he is learning with you.

fin 🤎

celebrate my academic hardships & Theodore Nott masterlist

your imprint's on my soul || Cha Hyun-Su x Reader

summary: When Hyun-Su's monster shows up at your door, he teases you and implies that Hyun-Su wants more with you than what you've shared before so, when Hyun-Su wakes up, you decide to act on that.

word count: 4.1k

warnings & tags: canon-typical angst, fluff, smut, explicit consent, dry-humping, thigh-riding if you squint, handjob (male receiving), they're both virgins and are both painfully awkward, this is very soft tbh

first one-shot · previous one-shot

This one-shot can be read independently as there is nothing intense plot-wise that requires having read the other parts, but I do recommend reading them for context.

A/N: sooo, we've reached the first smutty installment for this series, though this feels so tame and so soft I don't even know if it deserves that name. It's what felt right to me for the development of their relationship and what I think makes sense for their characters! I hope you'll enjoy it!

Hyun-Su always knocks. It doesn’t matter that you’ve told him he didn’t have to anymore, doesn’t matter that you’ve offered to give him a key. He still knocks, a soft rap against your door that you’ve learned to recognize from anywhere you are in the house — it’s probably the first time ever that you are truly thankful for the terrible soundproofing in there. When Hyun-Su isn’t there, you spend your time waiting to hear it again, whether consciously or not.

So when you hear something brutally hitting your door, the sound echoing through your silent house, it doesn’t cross your mind that it could be him.

You stumble through the house to grab your bat, heart beating so fast it’s threatening to fall out of your chest. Whether it’s a monster or a desperate survivor trying to get in, you need to be ready to defend yourself.

You’re slowly approaching the door when whoever — or whatever — is outside hits the door twice more.

“C’mon now, I haven’t got all day.”

You still. You recognize the voice instantly, of course you do, but what you don’t recognize is the tone, or even how loud it is, for that matter.

“Hyun-Su?” you call out quietly.

It’s not the smartest decision, because if it’s not him, it lets whatever’s out there know you’re here, but you can’t see yourself leaving him outside.

“You could say that,” the voice answers, and it’s still obviously Hyun-Su, and it’s still wrong, somehow.

But, after a couple seconds of further hesitation, you decide to open the door anyway. You’ve heard it before, that tone, you think, even if it’s blurry now. Plus, you cannot bear the thought of letting Hyun-Su out there, if it really is him. You tighten your hold on your bat, and carefully open the door.

The second you do, Hyun-Su walks in like he owns the place. It is so unlike him that you get ready to swing, but he spots you and grabs it from your hand easily, using his pull on it to get you closer to him, his other hand coming to your waist to stabilize you with a gentleness that contrasts with the abruptness of his movement. Once he does, he shoots you a grin that makes you knees weak, and, as his blue eyes stare straight into yours, you finally understand what is going on.

“All that for me?” he asks, glancing at the bat.

You don’t bother to answer him. You remember too well the state he was in last time you saw this— well— version of him, and your eyes run over his body, followed by your hands, checking for injuries. But while his sweater is in worst shape than usual, and you find blood that you think is fresh on there, his skin is intact under your fingers.

When you look into his eyes again, you find him staring at you, amused.

“You can keep going,” he teases. Your face starts burning and you take a step back, embarrassed, but he follows right after you, eyes devouring you. “Come on, you know you want to. Why not just give in?”

Your back hits the wall, and he leans closer, like a cat playing with a mouse. The difference is, though your heart is hammering in your chest, you don’t feel that scared. Nervous, sure, but there is no actual threat to his tone, or even to his attitude.

“I’m not— I’m not doing anything Hyun-Su wouldn’t want,” you answer, and you somehow find it in yourself to lift your chin defiantly as you do.

Meeting this version of Hyun-Su’s eyes sends a rush of heat through you once again. Beneath the amusement, there is so much more. Fascination. Adoration, even.

He lets out a brief laugh at your words.

“Please,” he practically purrs, “you can’t think that he doesn’t want this.” You stare at him, and his grin widens. “Maybe you should ask him, then.” He leans closer to you, mouth so close to your ear you can feel his breath tickling your cheek. “Ask him what he thinks about when he’s alone at night.” Your cheeks are on fire. “Ask him what he thinks about when you’re lying in bed next to him.” Your breath catches in your throat. “Ask him what he thinks of doing to you.”

He laughs again, and Lord, you don’t know how your legs haven’t given up underneath you yet.

“Come back to me if he still doesn’t have the guts to do anything,” he whispers in your ear. “For now, I think we’ll take a nap.”

That’s all the warning you get before he collapses into you and you can do nothing but slide down to the floor, holding Hyun-Su’s now unconscious body in your arms. You curse the monstrous part of him under your breath, but you know, deep down, that it’s less about that and more about the fact that he’s leaving you with your whole body practically vibrating with feelings and desires you’ve been having more and more as of late.

Your relationship with Hyun-Su is good. It’s great. It makes you happy, so much happier than you thought would ever be possible after the world ended.

But you’d be lying if you said there hasn’t been a— yearning, a longing for more. Something you haven’t put precise words on, something that is almost fully new to you, because though you had fooled around with the boyfriend you briefly had at the beginning of college, the two of you had never gotten really far. You suspect it’s even more foreign to Hyun-Su.

You do know you have an effect on him, you’re not blind. You know how he can get when he loses himself in you, when he finally lets go of all the weight he carries on his shoulders. You, however, also know how embarrassed he gets when his body reacts to you in ways he can’t fully control. You’re just not sure he’s ready for taking the relationship further and, if you’re being honest, the fear of rejection has kept you from bringing up the subject.

Except that after this conversation, the monster’s words are swirling in your mind, and you can no longer pretend that the desire that makes your pulse quicken isn’t there.

Now’s not the time for that, though. You do your best to carry Hyun-Su to the couch, something you doubt you could have done before the Apocalypse forced you to put on some muscle, cover him with a blanket, just in case, because his sweater is starting to have more holes than fabric, and sit by his side so his head rests on your lap. All that’s left to do now, is to wait for him to wake up.

It’s fine, though.

You’re used to waiting for him.

Hyun-Su opens his eyes, and at first, he just feels warm and good and safe. For once in his life, nothing hurts. Your hand’s in his hair, fingers brushing against his scalp pleasantly every now and then and—

And he doesn’t remember coming to your place or seeing you.

He jumps up, eyes surveying the apartment, which looks the same it always does, then you when he turns around. All he sees there is mild confusion.

“Did you have a bad dream?” you ask.

“Did you see him?” he asks in reply.

You frown for a second, before understanding passes on your face, and Hyun-Su feels the blood draining from his face.

Last time, the monster had been with you for a couple minutes, at most. This time…

He hadn’t thought he would come here. He’d been far away, when the group of humans had gotten attacked. Intervening had been the right thing to do, he’d thought — until he’d started getting shot at. The words they’d hurled at him, he’d all heard before, during a time of his life he wished he could forget. With his attention split between the monsters still trying to get past him on one side, and the arrows and bullets coming from the other side, the monster had managed to take over.

And maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t fought it as hard as he should have.

He had never thought you’d get caught in the crossfire.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Are you— Are you—”

Hurt. Angry. Disgusted.

“I’m fine,” you answer him. You don’t hesitate to reach out to gently touch his face, and your smile is so sincere it’s almost blinding. “Nothing happened.”

He leans into your touch, unable to stop himself, and though he still feels the need to protest, it gets easier to believe you each time you reassure him you don’t despise him.

“It didn’t do anything to you?” he asks, voice low and quiet.

You shake your head, but he can’t miss the way you glance away briefly, avoiding his eyes at first.

“He didn’t hurt me,” you tell him, and he can tell it’s true, but—

“What did it do?” There’s urgency in his voice, panic even. He grabs your arms to look into your eyes, the window to the soul, they say, but he cannot read into you, no matter how much he searches.

“Nothing,” you say, but again, he can tell that there’s more to it, and he doesn’t let go, until you cave in. “He just said something.”

“What did he say?” Hyun-Su presses on. Fear is invading his every bone, wrapping its vines around his heart and squeezing it.

“Nothing important,” you insist, but it only makes him more desperate, because if you don’t want to tell him, it must be something bad, must be something deep and dark and twisted, must be something that could make you hate him. When he doesn’t let up, you sigh. “He just said to ask you something.”

Hyun-Su’s mind goes quiet.

“Ask me what?”

His mouth is dry, his lips move painfully.

“Just— He said, I should ask you what you want to— to do to me.”

It’s like a bomb just went off.

Hyun-Su lets go of you. It feels as if his whole face is burning. Shame and embarrassment overtake him, and suddenly he can’t look at you anymore, just wants to run out the door, but his body is refusing to move. He’s stuck in place like a rabbit in headlights.

“I’m sorry,” he says automatically, whipping his head in the other direction, since that all he can do.

“So, you, um, you… are thinking about it?” you ask, your voice piercing straight through his heart.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“No, no, I’m, uh—”

You grab his hand, scooting closer to him on the couch, until your knees touch his. And it grounds him. Slowly, reason starts to creep back up from under all the thoughts, and he hears the eagerness in your question.

“J-just so we’re on the same page,” you say, as he slowly turns his head to look at you once more, “you’re thinking about… having sex. With me.”

It’s precious, how you lower your voice to say ‘sex’, and then frown in annoyance at yourself. Hyun-Su still wants to tear his hand from yours, run away before you can tell him how much of a freak, of a monster you think he is. But he can’t.

He thinks he’d rather you rip his heart out, as long as you do it with your bare hands, than to live without your touch ever again.

Slowly, he nods. His face and ears are tingling, and he’s sure he’s bright red by now.

“I shouldn’t,” he mumbles. You’ve given him so much already. So much he hadn’t dared to hope for in years. He shouldn’t ask for even more. He doesn’t deserve more.

But your hands tighten around his. Your mouth opens, closes, your tongue comes out to wet your lips as you hesitate and fidget nervously.

“No, you, uh, you should,” you stutter before catching yourself, closing your eyes like you don’t want to see what’s in front of you before you take a leap of faith. “I mean— I think about it. About you.”

A light buzz starts again in his ears.

“I didn’t know,” you keep mumbling. “I mean, I wasn’t sure that you—” Your gaze goes from his hand to the floor, everywhere so you don’t have to look at him. “That you wanted me. So I’m— It’s, uh, it’s good to know.”

“I want you,” Hyun-Su blurts out without thinking, and of course then you look at him, with wide, pretty eyes, and if he wasn’t blushing before, he sure is now. His face could burst into flames any second. “I hate that I can’t—” His eyes fall on your legs, with the dress you’re wearing riding up on your thighs. “—touch you.” If he wasn’t so scared, if he was braver… “I just…” A whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t,” you say patiently. “I trust you.”

“But I don’t,” he mumbles, looking down at the floor. “You’re so— fragile. If I lost control for a second…”

He sees you hesitate. He expects you to tell him, again, that he wouldn’t lose control, maybe that the monster inside him wouldn’t hurt you. Thing is, you might be right, but it doesn’t matter how unlikely it is. That’s not a risk he can take.

“Okay,” you say instead. “Okay. But what if— what if I was the one touching you?”

He almost wishes you hadn’t said it, with how badly he immediately wants it.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says. His throat is dry. His whole body is aching for you.

“And if I want to?” You tilt your head, all pretty, and oh, how can he deny you anything?

“Please,” he whispers.

Your lips part and your breath seems to stutter, before you lean in and kiss him, and it’s like he’s finally come home. It starts off soft, slow, no different from any kiss the two of you have shared in the past weeks. Your hand comes up to cup his face, thumb stroking his cheek.

Hyun-Su melts. He parts his lips to welcome in your tongue, lets you take the lead and set the pace for the kiss without thinking about it twice.

Then he feels you move. It’s barely there at first, your hand that’s not on his face coming to rest on his shoulder, and all that is known territory. Even if your fingers actually touch his skin there, because of the numerous holes in his clothing, he can handle that.

His eyes snap open again, though, when you move your leg over his so you can come sit in his lap, straddling him. You notice immediately.

“Is that okay? We can stop—”

“No, I—”

He doesn’t want you to stop. He wants more with you, so bad, and though he would never say it out loud, he’s desperate for you to show him that you’re not disgusted in him. Every time you kiss him, every time you touch him, every time you take his hand and lead him in bed with you, he comes closer to truly believing it.

But, ah, with this last conversation, even if it’s not the first time he’s had you in his lap, he feels— heated. He can feel himself growing hard, and he’s still embarrassed at the thought that you can feel him. Despite what he said, his hands are on your waist, holding tight. He doesn’t remember if he chose to do that.

After all, his desire for you aligns with what the monster wants so closely that he’s— scared. He’s so scared of losing control. But you’re looking at him so lovingly, and he wants you so bad… Can he be selfish? Just this once?

“Don’t stop,” he almost begs, and seeing how eagerly you nod in reply is like an explosion of warmth in his chest.

Your lips crash against his again, harder, with more purpose. Your fingers card through his hair, and the feeling of your light pull on them goes straight to his core, more enjoyable than he thinks it should be, though he’s in no position to linger on it, not when the next thing you do is to experimentally roll your hips on top of him.

From your perspective, it’s a clumsy movement, one you’re unsure of. From his, it’s a rush of pure pleasure when you rub against his hard cock, one that makes him openly moan, his mouth falling open enough that he breaks the kiss. The second he realizes what kind of noise came out of him, he raises his hand to cover his mouth, cheeks turning crimson.

He’s not daring to look at you, not at first anyway, until he feels your lips brushing against his fingers, pressing soft kisses against his hand.

“Still good?” you ask.

And he is, but he’s not trusting his voice all that much for now, so he just nods. A smile dances on your lips as you kiss down his jaw.

“Also,” you add, “I’m not— I don’t have much— experience, in all, uh, that. So you should— you should let me know. What feels good. What doesn’t.”

“That felt good,” he admits quietly, and your smile turns into a grin against his skin.

“I could tell.”

What you don’t say is how hot you found both the sound and the thought that you could affect him like that, how badly you want to press your legs together so you can alleviate the ache you’re feeling down there, how you’re worried you actually want him even more than he wants you.

Instead of saying all that — it would make you feel so naked and so vulnerable, and disarm you completely, which doesn’t seem like a good idea for now —, you start trailing your kisses down his neck. There’s one spot there that makes him whimper, more discreetly than before, but you latch onto it all the same, tongue coming out to flick against the skin, pulling on it softly between your teeth. He writhes and whines under you, and when his cock rubs against you just right, you gasp against him.

You’re delighted to see reddish skin when you pull away. He’ll heal, and there will be no trace of it by morning, but there’s something satisfying about it — and the glassy look he gives you, lips swollen and parted, hair a mess on the back of the couch, with that proud mark right above his collarbone… is purely sinful.

Your fingers hook in his hoodie.

“Can I?” you ask.

He’d go to the moon and back for you.

He nods.

You pull it over his head, struggle a little when it gets caught in his hair, then manage to pull him free and kiss him again with a giggle. It’s sweet. You’re still wearing your dress, but it’s the first time he feels your hands directly on his skin all the same, and even if his body’s burning up, your touch sets him ablaze.

You explore his body with hungry eyes and hands, follow the shape of his pectorals, then move down to his abs. You trace the muscles, slowly, and as you move down, closer to his crotch, he can no longer suppress a shiver. You still for a second, and he watches you with wide eyes, waiting for you to keep moving, so badly wanting you to keep going. Finally, your fingers brush against the button of his jeans. Silently, meeting his eyes, you ask for his permission. He swallows, nods again.

He’s nervous, almost painfully so, but he notices that your fingers are shaking as you have to try three times to get it open, and it reassures him, in some ways. It reminds him that, for all the issues he has, this is new for the both of you. There are no expectations to meet, just the two of you discovering, together, what works for you.

Once the button isn’t in the way, you, very carefully, move your hand under his jeans, but over his boxers. The second he feels your hand hesitantly closing over his cock, even through the fabric, he throws his head back, trying his best not to moan again and only half-succeeding.

You watch his reactions closely as you keep touching him, slipping your hand under the boxers after a few seconds. This time he does moan, a high-pitched noise that you take to mean you’re doing something right — even if you have no idea what you’re doing. How tight should your grip be? How fast should you move? Should you be saying something? Should he be saying something?

His cock is rock hard between your fingers, harder than you’d have expected; larger, too. It seems to have been that way for a while, maybe since you’ve started kissing, based on how wet with precum it is. You tighten your grip around it a little, then slide your hand down, slowly, down to the base. He moans again, and you feel him twitch between your fingers.

“Um,” you mumble, “I, uh, I don’t really know— is that— is there anything I should—”

Hyun-Su’s looks up at you, flushed and panting. One of his hands comes to your thigh, and now you’re the one shivering under his touch. You don’t think he even notices though. You’re dripping wet yourself, but for now you just want to make him feel good. If things go well, if he stays open to this sort of things, there’ll be plenty of time to deal with that… later. At the moment, all you want is to show him that pleasure doesn’t have to lead to anything negative.

“J-just, keep going,” he mumbles. “You can, ah, you can go a little faster, if you…”

The rest of his words gets lost in the next moan as you follow his advice, moving your hand up and down his cock, the wetness helping the movement. Despite yourself, you rock your hips against his leg, the pressure of it between your legs feeling so delicious, you can’t deny it to yourself at the moment.

Under you, Hyun-Su is lost in pleasure. Your rhythm is hesitant, you’re not holding him quite as tight as he’d like, but oh, your hand is soft and gentle, and it still feels so much better than his own. The fact that you’re all pressed against him, your breath against his neck, your scent filling him, it’s all much more than what he had imagined — because, yes, in shameful moments, he’d pictured this kind of scenes, but they had never felt as good, pleasure running through his veins and flooding his body.

Any time he indulged in them, though, he came faster than usual, and now, with the real thing, he realizes too late how quickly he is approaching his climax.

“Wait,” he hears himself mumble, “I’ll—”

But he’s already coming, and the strength of the orgasm leaves him breathless as he humps against your hand, trying to make it last longer.

“Oh,” is all you comment, and even through the haze, embarrassment spreads through him as he realizes that there’s cum on your hand and on his stomach. At least he cannot turn any redder now.

“Sorry,”  he mumbles, “sorry, I—”

“No, I— I thought that was pretty hot, actually,” you say, giving him a smile, and thank fuck you’ve taken his hand off him, because he wouldn’t want to have to explain why that’s making him twitch again. “I’ll just— you probably want to get cleaned up.”

“I’m— Yeah, but—” He glances down at your body. He felt you rocking against him earlier, even if he wasn’t exactly in the right mind to say something about it. “Don’t you— Don’t you want to, uh…”

“Ah, I’m fine, I just— I just wanted to make you feel good for now.”

And just as he thought his heart rate might go back to normal at some point, there it is, spiking again.

“We can do that— some other time. If you’d like to.”

There is nothing he wouldn’t give to you.

“I would. I would like that.”

Your smile is a promise for more, your kiss is sweet, and for the first time in forever, Hyun-Su forgets about the monster.

He’s in your arms, and it’s all that matters.

i’ve been trying to figure out what to put here. i already feel like i’m kinda begging for comment on my posts, which i don’t like doing, but i figured i’d try to explain at least once what i’ve been feeling lately — plus i'm starting a new job on Monday and i don't know how much time i'll have to write after that. truth is, the lack of interactions i’ve been getting on here, on these stories, has been kind of depressing to me. i know people are reading them, considering the amount of notes, and it’s hard not to question whether it’s my writing that’s not good enough to make people want to leave a comment, or if it's just how fandom is now and in that case it just might not be for me anymore. i mean, i write for myself first, but i post because i want to share with others, i want to see their reactions, know how my writing makes them feel… and lately it just feels like i’m screaming in the void and nothing else. it’s been hard to stay motivated honestly. so, yeah. you don’t have to leave a comment, especially if you didn’t like it, i get it, i’m not trying to guilt-trip you. i just. feel the need to explain this at least once, in case it changes someone’s mind, and if it doesn't, i'll know i tried. if you've ever commented, reblogged with tags, sent an ask, know that i'm so thankful for you and you truly keep me going.

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