#ahahahaha time to... continue... writing...

“For me? But it’s your birthday in a couple of days. I was coming to give you your gift.”

The blush on Chigiri’s cheeks told the other boy that he already had an idea of what that “gift” might be. Still, he shook his head and got to his feet, waving him over, kneeling as though to reach under the bed. “I insist. Come on over here, I know I put it somewhere…”

None the wiser, Bachira strolled over to stand at his side, unaware of the trap he’d walked into until it was too late.

In a flash, Chigiri shot to his feet, grabbed Bachira’s shoulders, and shoved him down onto the bed, grinning triumphantly.

“Oh! M-My, missy, I’m flattered, but I already have a bohohohohohoyfriend! Ahahahahahaha, whahahahahahat?!” Bachira laughed when Chigiri plunged his fingers into his upper ribs, only centimeters from the prize he’d clearly been going for before Bachira clamped his arms down instinctively.

Despite being thwarted, the redhead laughed along with him and quickly moved to straddle his waist to keep him pinned. “This is what you get for all those times you tickled the crap out of me for no reason!”

“It wahahahahahasn’t for nohohohohoho reheheheheheason!” Bachira protested, only squirming a little as he took his punishment. “I lihihihihihike seeheheheheheheheeing you smihihihihihile!”

“Tch. Now who needs the boyfriend reminder? Are you flirting with me?”

“Nehehehehehehehehever! Nahahahahahahahagi would kihihihihihihill me!”

Chigiri laughed, taking one of his arms and trying to pry it open so he could get to the good spot. “What about Isagi?”

“He’d understahahahahand – AH! Nohohohohohohohoho, Chihihihihihihigiri!” Bachira tossed his head back and absolutely cackled when the redhead at last managed to scribble into his armpit, his free arm flailing desperately. “Nohohohohohohohot thehehehehehehehehere! It tihihihihihihihihickles!”

“Does it?” Chigiri taunted, grinning, using the same exact tone of voice Bachira had used on him several times before. “I couldn’t tell~”

It was a few more minutes before the redhead finally let him go, and several more after Bachira had stumbled out of his room before he realized he’d never given Chigiri his own tickly sendoff.

Oh, well. It had been worth it!

~

“Oh, hey, Reo. Have you seen Isagi? I can’t find him anywhere.”

It was a while later, and Bachira had been up and down every hall of Blue Lock, searching for his boyfriend. He had no idea where he could have gone, or how he could have looked almost everywhere and not found him yet, but it was possible his boyfriend was looking for him too and they kept walking circles around each other.

To Bachira’s surprise, Reo looked startled upon seeing him, eyes darting around as though searching for an escape. But before he could open his mouth to ask why, he’d been shoved up against the wall with tickling fingers in his belly.

“Ah! Whahahahahahat, you toohohohohohohoo? Whahahahahahat is hahahahahahappening today?!” Bachira cried, giggling helplessly and curling up despite himself, though inside his heart was soaring. He hadn’t been tickled by anyone but Isagi in so long, he’d forgotten how fun it was when someone new was playing with him, finding his spots for the first time.

Reo smirked. “I take it I’m not the first, then. Who else has gotten you already?”

“Rahahahahahaichi and Chihihihihihigiri,” Bachira replied, squealing when Reo darted around to scribble at his spine. He halfheartedly shoved at the purple-haired boy’s shoulders.

“Raichi got to you before me? Damn. I gotta be faster than that.”

“Is thehehehehehehehere a muhuhuhuhuhutiny or sohohohohohomething? Why is eheheheheveryone after mehehehehehehe?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Reo’s smirk turned evil. “At least I have that going for me. Consider this payback for always tickling me!”

Bachira was so confused, but he was beginning to detect a pattern. Everyone who had gotten him so far was someone he’d tickled multiple times in the past but never been able to provoke into fighting back. Well, except Raichi, but again – it had been a while. Had they been scheming together, waiting for the same day to gang up on him? The thought made him incredibly happy.

Finally Reo let him go, ruffling his hair playfully. “Heh, all right, I think that’s sufficient. You good?”

“Y-Yeah,” Bachira giggled, more breathless with every random tickle attack he endured today.

Reo jabbed a finger over his shoulder. “I just saw Isagi heading to the showers. He’ll probably head back to your place when he’s done.”

Their place. Even though they technically shared a room with others in Blue Lock, Bachira thought it sounded nice for them to be lumped together like that, as if it was a given that they shared the same space.

“Thanks, Re-Re,” the smaller boy replied, just barely holding himself back from elaborating on the double meaning of his gratitude.

Reo seemed to get it anyway. He smirked, saluted, and went on his way.

~

When he felt a weight settle on his legs, Bachira stirred from his impromptu nap and hummed contentedly. Without opening his eyes, he murmured, “Hey, Yocihi~”

“Yoichi?” a voice that was decidedly not Isagi’s replied, and Bachira’s eyes snapped open. He’d assumed his boyfriend was the one who was sitting on him since they were in “their room,” and none of their roommates were that familiar with him.

But instead of black hair, he saw white, and instead of blue eyes, intent gray ones.

“Nagi?” he stammered, genuinely surprised, though his heart began to race in anticipation anyway. He had a feeling he knew what was coming by now. “W-What…what are you doing in here?”

“What do you think?” Nagi replied, leaning back with ease to scribble at Bachira’s bare feet.

Bachira whined briefly, then dissolved into giggles, gripping the bedsheets beside him to ground himself. “Et tu, Bruhuhuhuhuhute?”

“Like you don’t deserve it,” Nagi said with a smile, keeping his touch blessedly light compared to those who had come before him. “Besides, I think you’ve always wanted me to get you back one day. Haven’t you?”

He couldn’t deny it, so instead the bobcut boy nodded through his snickering, unconsciously crossing his feet one over the other again and again, trying to evade the tickly fingers sending playfully unbearable sensations up his spine.

“You should know,” the white-haired boy continued, grabbing onto one of his big toes without even looking behind him and ruthlessly scratching at the ball of his foot with one finger, “the only reason I haven’t done this yet is because I’m lazy, not because I didn’t want to.”

“It’s okahahahahahahay,” Bachira managed through his helpless giggling, beginning to squirm at the more intense tickles. “I knehehehehew you’d cohohohohome around!”

“Well, when Isagi talked to me, I figured it would make a decent Christmas gift, since I won’t see you over the holidays.”

Isagi? “He tahahahahahahalked to you? About whahahahahahat?”

Nagi’s eyes widened. “Oh. I thought you knew by now. Well, you’re not getting anything out of me today.” Then he rapidly switched tactics and squeezed his knees, scribbling all over them and earning more squealing giggles. “It’s my turn to make you surrender.”

~

When Yukimiya poked his head into the room a while later, Bachira took one look at him and curled up defensively, grinning wide. The bespectacled boy laughed. “The jig is up, huh? What number am I?”

Bachira had already lost count, and with the taller boy approaching him with teasing wiggling fingers, all coherent thought flew out of his head. He was giggling before Yuki even reached him. “I dohohohohon’t know – fihihihihihive or six?”

“How’s your stamina?”

The younger boy was grateful he’d been asked. “F-Fine…just not too rough, yeah?”

Yuki grabbed him by the ankle and dragged him into a more prone position, then straddled his thighs and got to work tickling Bachira’s belly and sides, drawing out happy (if a little tired) laughter. “You’re never too rough with me, so I have no reason to be rough with you. But I’m definitely going to get my share, so buckle up, buttercup!”

~

Bachira went from excited, disappointed, nervous, and relaxed all in the span of about two seconds. The boy sitting on the field stretching was Rin, not Isagi, but Bachira had no fear walking up to him to ask after his boyfriend. It was unfathomable to him that after asking after him for half a day at this point, he still didn’t know where he was.

Unless Isagi was avoiding him.

Bachira shook his head. It was a coincidence, he was sure. Especially since at least two of his assailants had seen and spoken to him today at some point. There was a conspiracy going on, but he didn’t mind it. If anything he was wired, jumpier than usual, eager to see who would come after him next.

But Rin wouldn’t tickle him, not being the biggest fan of it himself, and so Bachira strolled right up to him and asked, “Hey, Rin-Rin, have you seen my boyfriend?”

Rin tensed for a moment, then his shoulders relaxed as he turned and glanced up at him. “You just missed him. He was in here asking if I’d seen you.”

“Really? Did he say where he was going?” Bachira asked, eager to finally be close to catching up.

“Think he was headed back to yours.”

“Ah! I just left from there. Okay – thanks, Rin!”

Bachira turned to leave him be, assuming that’s what he wanted, but at the last second he registered the muttered, “Sure, that’s all I’m good for. Getting you back with your boyfriend.” And he stopped, turning back in surprise.

Rin was already stretching again, seemingly unbothered, but his words hurt the smaller boy, and he sauntered back over, plopping down next to him in the grass.

Rin side-eyed him. “What are you doing?”

“Can I stretch with you?” Bachira asked, already crossing his legs and lifting his arms above his head, joining in the routine he remembered from his days on Rin’s team.

“What about Isagi?”

“We’ll catch up with each other soon. Right now I want to hang out with you.”

Rin was silent for a long moment, but finally rolled his eyes and went back to his routine. “You’re still so weird, bobcut.”

Bachira took that as acceptance, and soon the two were settled into a calming wind-down routine. The smaller boy was surprised to find how much it helped him to take a few minutes to just breathe, stretch, feel his muscles working and relaxing. He let out a contented sigh.

“You seem tense,” Rin observed after several minutes of silence.

Bachira smiled. “Not really. On edge, maybe. It’s been a weird day.”

“That’s rich, coming from you. What happened?”

For the first time, Bachira hesitated. What would Rin think about everyone coming after him today? Would he think it was stupid? Would he want to join in? No, no – definitely not that last one. Still, the dribbler blushed a little and murmured, “A lot of my friends have been, um…tickling me, today.”

“Have they.” Rin’s voice was flat, uninterested. Bachira was surprisingly relaxed by the tone. Everything was normal with him, at least.

“Yeah. It’s been fun, don’t get me wrong, but it’s been so random that I think my body is hyperaware of everyone else. It’s a little tiring is all. But I’ve been having fun!”

“You would.” Rin shot him a knowing look, his lips twitching in the barest hint of a smile. “You know why they’ve been doing it, right?”

Bachira glanced at him, surprised. “Most of them have said it’s overdue payback for me tickling them so much. A couple have said it’s a Christmas gift for me.”

“Sure, but Isagi’s the one who went around giving everybody permission.”

“Permission?”

Rin eased out of his stretch and leaned back, watching Bachira as he said, “Your friends haven’t been retaliating against you as much as they want to because they think that tickling is just something for you and Isagi.”

Bachira was startled. “What? No! Anyone can—”

“I know that now, but only because Isagi talked to me about it. He said you were sad because no one else was messing around with you like he does, and he realized how it probably looked to everyone, so he went around clearing it up today. That’s why everyone’s been coming after you. They’re finally off the leash.”

“Oh.” The smaller boy digested this information. It did make sense, and it would explain the couple of mentions he’d heard of Isagi interspersed with his friends being eager to tickle him like crazy throughout the day today. At this point he’d been gotten by nearly everyone. Everyone except…

Wait.

Bachira eyed Rin. “You said he talked to you, too? But you haven’t tried to tickle me.”

Rin raised a brow. “And?”

“Well…I guess I’m not surprised, but…everyone else has gotten their revenge, Rin-Rin.”

Rin’s eyes darkened with something Bachira couldn’t quite name. “You want me to tickle you, too? You’re not exhausted?”

“I mean…I’m getting there, but I’m not…totally exhausted yet.” The dribbler shifted in his seat, glancing at his friend and then away again. “It’s okay, I know it’s not your thing—”

And then he was facedown on the grass, Rin’s weight on his back, pinning him there. “You’re insatiable, you know that?” Then – without warning – the taller boy was scratching at the spot between his shoulder blades like a cat with a scratching post.

Bachira burst into the loudest laughter he’d let free all day, kicking his legs behind him uselessly and clawing at the grass. “AHAHAHAHAHAH NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!! RIHIHIHIHIHIHIN!!”

“I’ve been dying to get my revenge on you, bobcut,” Rin said over his hysterics, the hint of a smile in his voice for the first time. “But I wanted you to come to me, and I wanted your consent first. You’re always good about having mine before you attack me, you tickle psycho.”

“EHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHA NOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHERE, RIN!! PLEHEHEHEASE!!”

Rin was merciless, never changing his pace, never letting up. “Anyone else got you here today?”

“NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!”

“Damn right. Because they don’t pay attention like I do. I know from watching you and your boyfriend screw around that this is the spot to get you really screaming.”

“RIHIHIHIHIHIHIN!!” Bachira screeched, laughing into the ground, slapping his palms on the grass, the blades tickling his palms, only adding to his playful agony. “AHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEHEHEHEHEASE, IT TIHIHIHIHIHIHIHICKLES!!”

“Does it, now,” Rin replied, again in that flat, toneless voice. Only this time, it was meant to drive Bachira into further distress, and it worked all too well. The taller boy kept scratching at his shoulder blades with one hand while snaking the other around to dig into his armpit, drawing a desperate scream of laughter from the smaller boy. “Gosh, this must really, really tickle, huh? Just sooooo bad. I had no idea you were this ticklish, bobcut.”

Bachira laughed so hard he went silent, wheezing and gasping for breath and pounding the grass frantically with the arm that wasn’t clamped to his side protectively. “I give,” he pleaded, voice barely audible by now. “I gihihihihihihive, plehehehehehease, Rin!”

Thankfully Rin understood he was done and stopped his assault, climbing off of him and letting him roll onto his back to gasp for air, face dark red and mirthful tears leaking from his eyes.

“Damn, bobcut, are you going to live?” Rin asked, a hint of concern in his eyes as he watched the other boy recover.

Bachira nodded weakly, giving him a tired thumbs-up. “Just…gotta…catch…my breath…”

Rin snorted, morphing it into a cough to hide his smile. “Isagi will kill me if you die, so don’t die, all right?”

“You…got it…Rin-Rin.”

~

“There you are!” Isagi exclaimed as Bachira staggered back into their room for the second time today. It was blessedly empty save for him, thank goodness. The striker smirked. “Have a good day?”

Bachira all but collapsed onto the bedroll next to him, shimmying so his head was in Isagi’s lap. “You’re my favorite person in the whole wide world, you know that?”

Isagi was grinning so hard it was a wonder his face hadn’t split open. “Uh-oh, I know this Bachira. This is tickle high Bachira. They got you good, huh?”

“So good,” the dribbler murmured, nuzzling into Isagi’s lap as his boyfriend snatched up a blanket and draped it over him.

“I bet you’re exhausted now.”

“I want to sleep for a thousand years.”

At this, Isagi finally laughed. “If you do that we won’t get to hang out over the holidays!”

“Worth it.”

Isagi ran his fingers through Bachira’s short locks. “I hope it was okay to talk to everyone. You’ve just been so bummed about no one wanting to play with you, and I felt bad because I think they thought I’d be jealous or something…”

“I love you so much, Yoichi.” Bachira titled his head up to make eye contact, smiling sleepily up at his partner. “Thank you.”

Isagi relaxed, smiling back and leaning down to kiss his cheek. “You’re welcome. I’m happy you had fun.”

“So much fun.”

“Merry Christmas, bumblebee.”

It was awkward, to say the least.

You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.

This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.

He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.

Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.

And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.

"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"

Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.

You were landing right in the palm of his hand.

Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.

Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.

You have everything. That was bullshit.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.

You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.

It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.

And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.

Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.

It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.

Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.

But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.

You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.

Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.

So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.

It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.

He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.

After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.

One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.

"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"

You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.

You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.

"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"

You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.

That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.

He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.

After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.

You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.

After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.

You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.

It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.

But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.

You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.

At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.

He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.

"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".

You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.

You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.

Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.

Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.

"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"

He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.

He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.

"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"

The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.

But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.

"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"

That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.

"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"

He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.

You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.

He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.

"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.

It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"

You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.

Bingo.

"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"

It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.

Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.

"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"

Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.

"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"

You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.

A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.

"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.

Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.

"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"

"To be fucked stupid"

It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.

A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.

"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"

He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.

But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.

It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.

His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.

But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.

You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.

“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”

You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.

“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”

You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.

“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”

And maybe he was.

Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.

Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.

You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.

“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.

You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.

He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.

“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”

“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.

“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.

Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.

He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.

You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.

He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.

“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.

“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”

You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.

“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”

You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.

With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.

“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”

A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.

“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.

You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.

You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.

“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”

He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.

“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”

You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.

Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.

“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”

Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.

“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”

“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.

You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.

“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.

It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.

“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.

You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.

The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.

He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.

But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.

He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.

“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.

You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.

“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”

You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.

“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”

“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?

“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”

You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”

“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”

His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.

But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.

He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.

He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.

“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”

You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.

“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.

In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.

You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.

“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”

“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”

He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.

Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.

“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.

“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”

You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.

“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”

“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”

Then you realized it.

When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.

That was your cure.

His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.

You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.

He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.

He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.

When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.

“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”

You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.

When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.

You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.

thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)

taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist

Azula kills Ozai. She does this after Zuko's Agni Kai but before he's officially 'banished' because she decided she loves her brother more than she fears their father. She gets away with it by framing it as an assassination and 99% of the people don't believe an 11 year old girl is capable of brutally murdering her father.

Iroh is now Fire Lord. After getting shit together re: Ozai's funeral he goes right into trying to end the war. Full stop cut that shit out. This is going to be a Process™ but it's the right thing to do.

Zuko and Azula get to unpack some trauma and without Ozai's wrath hovering over them they realize he Fucking Sucked™.

Iroh manages to track down Ursa and they find out what happened there. Ursa brings Ikem back with her. Kiyi exists now. (Between Ikem being a good stepdad and Iroh being a father figure to Zuko and Azula, the kids continue unpacking 'wow dad fucking SUCKED huh???")

Zuko is by default heir to the throne because he's older but he's like 'Azula and I will not be fighting over this we're in this together'.

We jump up to about where Canon begins with Iroh still working on the whole 'end the war' thing and the kiddos old enough to be involved in political processes so they're sent as ambassadors to the Water Tribe. Zuko to the South, Azula to the North. Though Mai is not an ambassador, her parents are and she goes with them to the Earth Kingdom.

Azula runs into a slight issue on the boat ride up north with Zhao wanting to be the Moonslayer but that's handled quick. (ish)

She meets Chief Arnook and convinces him that the Fire Nation is sincere about stopping the war and that he should send a trusted ambassador to discuss peace treaties. Yue manages to convince him that she should be part of this, though he sends her with others rather than alone ofc. Specifically Hahn, Yue's fiance, and Amaruk, an OC who is one of their best warriors.

Okay okay okay so!

I think if I were to return to this fic I might add some chapters to expand on earlier parts like

More of Azula and Zuko healing. More of the changed family dynamics between then and Ursa and Ikem.

More of Zuko in general because he has a lot of feelings. Like the Agni Kai happened and then when he wakes up from that his father has been killed by an 'assassin'. He slowly realizes that relationship was fucked up. He eventually figures out what Azula did and agrees with her on it being the right thing.

Another thing I'd like to talk more on is the political drama. There's some mention of it. How Iroh ending the war is controversial, but those that oppose his decision can't do much because the nation is already a bit of a mess so there's either a 'I agree we're a mess we need to fix shit rather than wasting time in a war' or 'i want the war but we're unstable enough without having a fourth death in the royals leaving a barely-teenage heir and a power vacuum'. There's also some of that planned in how I had Zhao still wanting to be the Moonslayer, thinking that offering a major upperhand in the war would be enough to restart the fight.

AS for future additions!

Azula and Yue! Friends. More than friends! Azula teaching Yue to fight because she's never been allowed to and Azula's like ??????? about it. Azula feeling guilty for having a crush on someone 'innocent' like Yue when she's got blood on her hands(as justified as that blood is)

Actual like. Some character development for Hahn? Oh sure he's an egotistical fucker but like. Arnook chose him to be Yue's betrothed and thus future Chief of the Northern Tribe for a reason. So he must've seen something in the boy. Plus I think Azula kicking his ass might humble him.

Swing to the pov with Zuko in the South meeting Aang, Katara, and Sokka. (Also a fun weirdness in like. Since the war is on the way out, it's given the Southern Tribe a bit of a break which means that their warriors can come home a bit. They're still ready to head out again, but Katara and Sokka do get to see their dad sometimes.)

Zhao escaping and getting real close to that 'Moonslayer' goal but meets a similar fate to his canon self.

Everyone gets back to the Fire Nation for discussion of peace treaties and all that. Azula brings Yue ofc. Zuko brings Katara, Sokka and oh shit the Avatar. Azula is cackling because she knew that if Ozai hadn't 'gotten assassinated', then he was going to send Zuko on a quest to find the Avatar and holy fuck he did it!

We get the whole squad because Mai's family bring an ambassador for the Earth Kingdom: the wealthy Lao Beifong who brought his wife and daughter with him.

– sungchan is the type of boyfriend to introduce you to the things he usually does alone, this isn’t to say he doesn’t continue to do them alone but if he thinks you’ll enjoy going on a walk in his favorite park then he’ll be sure to plan for you to try it out with him

– he won’t force you to try new things (foods, activities, hobbies, etc.) but he would most definitely encourage it

– he knows how hard university can get so he will always make sure you’re taking care of yourself

– you’ve been up for hours working on a final paper? it’s time to sleep love, and he means it! he’s a strong guy do you really think he won’t trick you with cuddles on his bed then trap you in his arms till you eventually fall asleep?

– sungchan who can’t cook to save his life but will learn to make you soup for when you catch a cold

– sungchan who buys your pet clothes he thinks will look cute on them and swoons whenever you send him pictures of them wearing the outfits he bought

– sungchan who is the biggest cuddle bug you’ll ever meet, like seriously he loves his cuddles so much and demands them every night

– sungchan who so badly wants to meet your parents because he wants them to know who is dating their baby but is also so nervous to meet them that he freaks out all day till you drag him to dinner shaking

– sungchan who goes out of his way to form an authentic friendship with your friends because he knows how much they mean to you and wants to make sure they know how much you mean to him

– sungchan who drives with one hand, and places the other over you to make sure you’re safe when he’s backing out of places (i need him)

– sungchan who gets pouty when you won’t kiss him because you’re sick and don’t want him to catch your cold (he swears up and down he doesn’t care but pouts even more when he catches it)

– sungchan who always lets you taste his food when you guys go out to eat together

– sungchan who helps you study for exams you have coming up

– sungchan who invites you back to his place for holidays away from school when you can’t go back home

– sungchan who buys you flowers all the time because he knows they make you smile

– sungchan who notices the little habits you have, like tapping your fingers nervously or squeezing his hand a bit tighter when you’re excited about something

– sungchan who when he has a bad day at work or school calls you because hearing your voice immediately puts his mind at ease and washes away all his worries…

coco’s <3 note: right so like I NEED HIM. okay moving on! I could totally go on forever with these but I decided that I should maybe just post them because if I didn’t stop myself I definitely would have never posted this and just kept adding to it for months on end (this is totally not the reason I haven’t posted my jay bf hcs ahahahaha why would you even think that silly goose!) anyways I hope you enjoy these and fantasize  about sungchan the same way I did when writing them 🤣🫵🏽 as always, feedback and reblogs are always appreciated <3

riize taglist — @palajae @txtlyn @rllymark @soheekisser @luvbinnies @chaerybae @lecheugo @idkwatodoanymore @givemeakith @haechansbbg @mxlly143 @tinyelfperson @vampcharxter (bold can’t be tagged 😞)