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grumpusha · 5 months

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⚝ Bang Chan x (afab) Reader ⚝ 4.8k ⚝ Stories published on this blog are not exhaustively tagged for their entire content to prevent spoilers. Proceed at your own risk. — Established FWBs, free use, glasses fetishism, discipline.

❥ You both have a libido control problem around each other as it is, but when you show up at the university building with glasses for the first time, Chris becomes the human embodiment of the word unhinged.

Maybe in a little more wholesome manner than he let on.

“Good afternoon.”

Chris’ more-than-pleasant voice rang in your ear in the empty corridor, immediately causing a smile to climb on your lips.

“Good afternoon to you, too, Dr. Bang.”

“May I have a word?”

“Of course,” you responded without slowing your steps down, “It’s about our joint paper, I presume?”

“Yes,” he caught up with you and asked in a convincingly serious tone, “I was wondering if you needed any work delegated to some assistants.”

There was a reason he emphasized that particular word, of course. It was code.

The tension between you and Chris had already been dangerously building up for months, and it finally reached its peak at the autumn faculty mixer. One minute you were talking about your mutual research interests, and the next he was going down on you in the provost’s office. The orgasms you shared that night were a bit too memorable, naturally marking the beginning of your risqué visits to each other’s offices. These four walls were considered dominance zones, and whoever was the visitor had to follow one rule.

If you don’t own the key to the lock, you are the assistant.

The second you turned the corner of the desolate hall, you shoved him against the wall, and started declaring your demands.

“You stared at me a little too long at the faculty meeting this morning,” you whispered into his lips, “If you’re gonna get my pussy that wet, then you gotta come clean up your mess.”

“Are you wearing my favorite black garter?”

“Depends. Are you wearing the necklace I like so much?”

He shoved his hand inside his shirt and pulled out the long chain with a silver pendant. Your fantasies were practically flashing all over your face, and it slapped a pretty big smirk on his lips.

“I’ll stop by after class, professor,” he stressed his address.

“You’d better,” you tangled your fingers around the chain and yanked on it, “If I cum by myself, so will you, golden boy.”

As Chris watched you walk away with your heels loudly clicking on the marble floor, the only thing he could think about was what a magnificent woman you were, and whether he wasted all his luck by meeting his match three offices down at his place of work.

You were in the middle of an intense call pacing in the room when he knocked on your door an hour later.

“Sorry, professor. I heard you have some work for me?” he peeked inside your office.

Once you turned around, you noticed that Chris had actually changed, currently clad in standard douche sophomore attire with a hoodie and jeans. Anybody who didn’t know him would unmistakably confuse him with a student. He took your little routines so seriously that the way he stuck to his act was remarkable.

“Can I call you back? Okay, thank you,” you hung up and pointed at him, “Aren’t you supposed to be in class right now?”

“Yes, but I had to excuse myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think you perfectly know what I mean.”

He locked the door behind him and three long steps later he was right in front of you with his hands around your waist.

“You get me so excited, I get hard at the worst possible moments because of you,” he pressed his lips on your neck, “You don’t feel a shred of shame seducing your assistant, do you?”

Every time Chris kissed you, it felt like dropping a red hot branding iron on a block of ice. It didn’t even melt, it sublimated into thin air, and you hated he had this much of an effect on you.

“I cut class to see you,” his large hands slid down your ass, “Thought you might want to get your clit licked again.”

“You have a fucking problem, you know that?” you chuckled into his ear.

“Yes, I do,” he dragged your bottom lip down while licking his, “You should have thought about that before getting me fucking addicted to yourself.”

“Watch your language, Bang,” you issued a pseudo-warning and picked up the incoming call, “Hello, President Curtis. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

President Curtis?

You had indulged in pretty daring things all over the campus so far, but having sex in the almost-presence of the fucking president of the university was not one of them. Alarms immediately started going off in Chris’ head, and he started moving unbeknownst to himself. He was making you walk backwards to your desk, and once your hips hit the mahogany surface, he trapped you against it. You had nowhere to escape.

One button. Two buttons. Three buttons. Four buttons. Your breasts were now out in the open to be fondled to his heart’s content.

“Yes, we will be signing the protocol next week.”

His slightly squinted eyes were fixated on yours as one of his hands slithered between your legs to caress your pussy. Your eyelids fluttered shut when he covered his lips around your hardened nipples.

“We uh– we don’t anticipate any problems, sir.”

Chris couldn’t help his mischievous smile while sucking on the pebbled skin. You were getting distracted.

Fucking perfect.

“We can always create an addendum.”

“What a professional,” he whispered as he kneeled and pulled your pencil skirt up all the way to your waist while kissing your thighs, “God, you’re so fucking sexy in this garter.”

“Why don’t you send me an email of the revised TERMS?”

You didn’t even notice your underwear being slid to the side until you felt the warmth of his tongue on your clit, licking, licking, and licking some more, completely getting lost in your taste. You had some explaining to do to the other end of the line, but the convincing answers weren’t registering fast enough.

“Sorry, I uh– I thought I accidentally d–deleted something,” you started guiding his head to match a rhythm you enjoyed, “Yes, I’m listening.”

You were throbbing on his tongue already. Your fingers reached his neck, and you harshly yanked on his chain to make him lick you deeper. Chris was in two minds whether to make you cum like this or blow your back out while you were on the phone.

“You keep me up all night,” he spoke into your pussy loudly enough that you could feel his words all over your body, “I can’t get enough of you.”

The way you were dripping on his tongue was making him twitch in his pants, helping him make up his mind big time. He got back on his feet and bent you over your desk while unbuttoning his jeans. All he did was prod your entrance with his thick girth, but it was enough to make you noticeably raise your voice.

“I think it’s better if you SENT THIS t–to me in writing.”

“Oh fuck, that’s the stuff.”

Sliding into your sopping wet pussy so easily every damn time. Chris felt so full inside you that he didn’t even have to go hard to make your eyes roll back. The worst part was that he knew, and that was what got him so fucking cocky.

“I’ll… I’ll look it over and send it back.”

When you finally hung up the phone, that was his cue to turn you around and sit you down on your desk.

“Did you miss me, professor?” he smugly grinned at you while wrapping your legs around his waist, “Did you miss cumming around your boy wonder?”

“Someone’s horny out of his mind again,” you threw your hands around his neck and pulled him closer, “Your sorority girlfriends aren’t doing a good job satisfying you?”

“You fucking know no one compares to you.”

“Language, Bang.”

“Or what? You’re gonna punish me?” he squeezed your cheeks between his thumb and index fingers, “Are you gonna keep me here for detention making me eat your pussy again because you’d fucking better.”

Then all of a sudden he started fucking you so hard that your brain went fuzzy. You weren’t able to produce anything coherent besides the moans you were trying to suppress.

“Don’t even. You and I both know how much you like it when I go hard,” he started laughing deliriously, “Come on, baby, make a mess on me.”

With your remaining brain cells, you managed to yank on his chain again to pull him close, and Chris kissed you as hard as he could while spending you on that desk like some spare change. When he started sucking on your tongue, it was completely game over for you, but his orgasm always hit him harder than yours when you dragged your nails all over his back, tattooing abstract shapes on his skin.

“So about the paper,” you took advantage of his brain rebooting before post-nut clarity hit, “You’re cool with my name appearing first, right?”

It was grim as fuck outside with all shades of gray painting the sky, but the sight of Chris in the hallway brought a little splash of color to this bleak day. He looked so damn gorgeous as always, but he was in business attire today with his blazer and tie, probably about to charm his way through some funding committee or whatever ulterior motive he had.

“Good morning, Dr. Bang,” you called out behind him.

“Good morn—ing,” his voice trailed off when he looked to his left to face you.

You had never seen him like this before. His expression was stuck somewhere between aghast and completely awestruck, which made you utterly self-conscious for a second.

“Since when do you wear glasses?!” he finally shrieked.

“Since always,” you furrowed your brows, confused as to what he was getting so worked up about, “I forgot to buy contacts.”

Contacts. So all this time you were wearing fucking contacts when you were holding his kryptonite in a case somewhere. How fucking delightful.

Chris’ sharp features turned stern all of a sudden like he was getting angry, and he spoke in a low volume that didn’t lend itself to be heard by anyone around.

“From now on, you’re going to have these on when you spread your legs for me, got it? Non-negotiable,” he placed his hand on your arm and squeezed it.

You knew this specific tone. It only ever came out when he was getting turned on, and it involuntarily prompted your eyes to dart right to his crotch area. The strain in his slacks was so noticeable that you didn’t know whether to be surprised or laugh your ass off.

This early in the morning? Really?

“I finished the translations you asked for,” you showed him the folder in your hand.

“Uh huh.”

“We can go over them today if you want.”

“Uh huh.”

“You’re not even hearing anything I say right now, are you?”

“Not even a single word.”

Chris was just staring at your face like he was hypnotized, and it was so damn obvious he was playing some messed up fantasy in his inner mind theater. You had to admit though, you had never seen his brain short-circuit in real time before, and it was simply too much fun to witness.

“For fuck’s sake, my office. Now,” he held your wrist in a death grip and started dragging you towards the end of the hall, “You’re gonna be my allegedly shy pervert RA today.”

Again. This early in the morning? Because of some fucking glasses?

Really?!

He basically shoved you inside the room and tried his best to calm down his panting as he locked the door behind him. Then as if nothing happened, he walked to his desk and sat down on his chair comfortably.

“Did you finish the translations I assigned you?”

“Yyup. As I was saying—”

“I beg your fucking pardon?”

Oh, shit.

Chris was very particular about being in character. He was looking at you with such a death glare that you didn’t have it in you to retort with something funny. This side of him… It was always a delight to witness.

It excited you.

“Y-yes, Dr. Bang,” you bowed your head in quasi-embarrassment and sat down on the seat in front of him.

“That’s more like it,” he leaned back and sized you up, “We need to know our place, don’t we?”

You placed the folder you were holding onto for dear life on the desk and thought about this intimidating version of Chris for a while. It was his preferred persona within these walls. A control freak that got off on the prospect of punishment whereas Chris in real life was one of the most pleasant people you’d ever seen.

The contrast was fascinating, really.

“I learned some interesting facts during my research, you know,” you softly uttered while playing with your fingers.

“Such as?”

“Such as how sacred a Pharaoh’s semen was. Amulets and potions were created from it to use as a form of medicine,” you finally found the courage to look right into his eyes, “Did you know Ancient Egyptians punished adultery with death, but group sex was an acceptable practice?”

“It’s also rumored that Cleopatra herself created the first vibrator by filling a gourd with buzzing bees,” Chris informed you while swiveling in his chair, “One hell of a woman if you ask me.”

He was smiling at you, but it was overshadowed by something sinister. You smiled back.

“You think we could apply for funding for an excavation?”

“You can’t even look me in the eye and ask me to eat your pussy, but you want to go on an erotic excavation with me?” he scoffed, extremely entertained, “Indiana Jonesing for some adventure?”

“I’m just saying it wouldn’t be the worst thing if Lara Croft and Indiana Jones collabed for once,” you shrugged as nonchalantly as you could manage, “I’m assuming you’re familiar with Dr. Jones’ choice of weapon?”

“A whip,” he responded but couldn’t help his smile growing wider, “Am I to infer something from this?”

“Maybe you should.”

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

“I think try is a bit redundant here.”

This. This was how Chris knew you two were a perfect match. Any ball he would serve at you, you would slam it back to his court, and he got an inexplicable kick out of it.

“Being a teacher’s pet is about to come in so fucking handy for you,” he chortled and spread his legs wide in his chair, “Why don’t you come closer?”

You stood up and slowly walked towards him like you were in a trance, holding his gaze all the while. You took the liberty of sitting on his desk, and Chris pulled his chair closer. To touch you. To appreciate you. To properly play with you. His first move was obviously to spread your legs wider, and he was more than satisfied with the sight before his eyes.

“Wet,” he swiped his thumb on the moist trail on your underwear, “Did you touch yourself without permission this week?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I didn’t!” you protested, “That’s why I may be a bit… too excited.”

He was trying his best to restrain himself and just admire you, but you looking down at him with huge eyes, licking your lips in anticipation, legs spread, palms pressing on the desk, and wearing those glasses…

Oh fuck, the glasses…

Chris was so hard already, but he wasn’t going to pass up on the opportunity to tease the shit out of you. He hooked his fingers behind the fabric of your underwear and pulled it down in slow motion just to kiss your pussy. It was barely contact, but you did not lie to him. Chris being extra enthusiastic indeed got you too excited.

“Moan any louder, and the whole damn building will know what we’re doing in here,” he looked at you threateningly, “Nothing’s going to happen to me, but you will lose your scholarship. Is that what you want?”

“No, Dr. Bang.”

He placed prolonged kisses on your labia and mound but nowhere wet. Nowhere that would give you gratification. When the teasing got a bit too much, you instinctively moved closer to his mouth for some friction.

“No,” he firmly declined and pressed his hands down on your thighs to keep your from moving.

“Please.”

“Behave.”

“Please lick me.”

You suddenly felt a smack on your ass, and it sizzled so good that you couldn’t help the moan that spilled from your lips.

“I said behave and that’s an order. I don’t like repeating myself,” he menacingly spoke and squinted his eyes, “I think we need to go over your training today.”

Chris pulled his first drawer open and handed you a small folder. You knew it contained the original texts of the Ancient Egyptian poems you had translated for an actual presentation.

“When I take you to the conference with me next month this is exactly what’s going to happen. I’m going to be between your legs the whole time,” he wrapped his hands around your thighs, “You’re going to translate these for me out loud. No messing up, no moaning, and strictly no cumming if you’re not ready to face the consequences. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good thing I skipped breakfast today,” he knowingly smiled and lowered his head between your legs, “Begin.”

It was so fucking hard to keep your wits intact when he started eating your pussy in earnest. His tongue glided in all the right places. His lips sucked on you exactly where you liked them. Your clit. Your folds. All the way down to your entrance to languidly fuck you with it.

But you had a mission to complete, and you needed to complete it now.

“You messed up,” Chris stopped all of a sudden and stared daggers at you, “What the fuck did I say about messing up?”

You bit on your lips semi-scared because Chris was always a bit too convincing with his threats. He unlocked his second drawer and picked up the bullet vibrator that actually belonged to you. You tried to muffle your moans when he pushed it into your dripping hole and turned it on. It could be somehow manageable if he left it like that, but if he started fucking you with it, you were fucking doomed.

Thankfully, all you received was an order.

“From the top.”

You refocused on the document in your hand and started over.

“I wish I were her Nubian slave who guards her steps. Then I would be able to see the color of all her limbs. I wish I were her laundryman just for a single month. Then I would flourish by donning her garment and be close to her body. I would wash away the unguent from her clothes and wipe my body in her dress. I wish I were the signet ring which guards her finger, then I would see her desire every day.”

“Very good,” he kissed your clit, “Gold star.”

He pulled the bullet out and sucked it clean while looking right into your eyes. It was torture in itself because watching those lips always did things to you. Chris unbuckled his belt while reclining in his chair and flashed his perfectly hardened cock for you. You gulped at the sight.

“Come sit on it,” he extended his hand to you.

You stepped down from his desk and settled on him. The way he stretched you was never not going to be fucking delicious even though you felt this way too many times already.

“Continue, baby.”

He was snugly fit in your deepest spot already, but he didn’t make a move to fuck you. He spread your legs instead and started to lazily rub clit while softly kissing all over your neck.

“I wish I were your mirror so that you always looked at me. I wish I were your garment so that you would always wear me. I wish I were… I were the water… that w–washes your bo— Oh, fuck!”

You felt a sudden slap on your pussy.

“You messed up again,” Chris spoke with palpable annoyance in his voice, “Are you doing it on purpose?”

“N-no, sir.”

“You know I have a thing for bad girls,” his hands groped your breasts as he whispered into your ear, “Are you trying to get me to punish you?”

“No, sir.”

“Then you know the drill,” he placed the tiniest of kisses on your earlobe, “From the top.”

The difference was that he had now started fucking into you, and it was almost impossible not to melt into him. You were cursing a mouthful at how he exactly knew all your hot spots. He kissed them. He touched them. His mouth was on your hardened nipples as if the torture itself wasn’t fucking enough.

“I wish I were your mirror so that you always looked at me. I wish I were your garment so that you would always wear me. I wish I were the water that washes your body. I wish I were the unguent, O Woman, that I could anoint you. And the band around your breasts, and the beads around your neck. I wish I were your sandal that you would STEP ON ME!”

Chris had lured you to the brink of insanity so very slowly that it wasn’t even noticeable until you looked down and saw an ocean of hellfire under your feet. It was still the very early hours of the day, but you were absolutely in love with how eager he was already just pleasuring you.

“I know I forbade you from moaning, but you sound fucking amazing,” he inhaled a lungful of your scent from your neck and put more pressure on your clit, “Do you like it when I do that?”

“It feels too good.”

“Too good,” he echoed in your ear then started fucking you faster, “You’re slipping.”

“Yes.”

“What did I say about cumming?”

“I don’t CARE!”

And that was all he needed to hear from you. Chris licked his fingers for more lubricant on your pussy, and combined with the fullness inside you, it didn’t take much to snap you violently around him.

“Enjoying ourselves, are we?” he chuckled against your neck, “You came so quick.”

“I’ve been waiting for this the whole week,” you broke into a fucked-stupid laughter.

“Then thank me.”

“Thank you, Dr. Bang.”

“Properly,” he squeezed your thighs, “Give me a kiss.”

He pulled your chin towards himself and kissed you deep, inadvertently moaning into your mouth. What could you do but reciprocate, really?

“But I told you I don’t like repeating myself, didn’t I? I told you not to cum if you weren’t ready to face the consequences,” he quietly threatened, suddenly wrapping his fingers around your neck, “Are you gonna behave like a girl who knows how to fucking say thank you, or do I have to make you?”

He wouldn’t do that. You knew for a fact that he wouldn’t do that, but Chris was so damn good at playing pretend that it was the fact that you could never be sure that got you keep coming for more.

“Apologize.”

“I’m so sorry,” you genuinely begged pardon, “Please let me make it up to you?”

You clenched around him as hard as you could, and even that much was enough to relax him and shut him up. It was kinda cute that he still tried to keep up his attitude.

“I might let you,” he fondled your breasts, “What’s the magic word?”

“Please?”

“Are you asking me or are you telling me?”

“Please.”

“There you go,” he stole a kiss from your lips, “On your knees.”

His crotch was wet and sticky through and through with you. When you took position between his legs, you noticed how fucking hard he was; so hard that you could see the bulging veins on his cock perfectly. You took him in your mouth and started tracing every single vein with your tongue.

“God, you’re so damn beautiful,” he tangled his fingers in your hair, “I fucking hate how you’re exceptional in areas more than one.”

“Then why don’t you give me a detailed breakdown of your grading rubric?” you involuntarily chuckled.

“So competitive,” he bit into his smirk, “Anything to keep her S-Class gold star status.”

The more he guided your head, the more he melted in your mouth. The way he was groaning and relaxing into his chair with his eyes closed was getting you more enthused over pleasuring him better.

“Incredible technique. Excellent use of tongue. Suction on point,” he acknowledged matter-of-factly, “But could use work on depth.”

The second he uttered those words, you started deepthroating him, and Chris threw his head back, moaning a bit too loudly for his own good.

“Shit, never mind.”

“Too much?” you giggled in between your ministrations, which only earned you a yank on your hair.

“Do you want to fucking fail?”

“No, sir,” you replied albeit without a trace of intimidation, still grinning at the reaction you were able to elicit from him.

“Then don’t fucking stop.”

You were absolutely going to town on him, sucking him as hard as you could to extract all his precum out of him. Chris’ moans were shapeshifting into something very dangerous, and it was getting more and more apparent that he was about to dissolve in your mouth.

“Yes. Oh god, yes!” he throatily moaned, “Get up. I’m gonna finish inside you.”

As crass as that sounded, you were never safe from getting attacked by his kisses. As wet as they could be. Full of passion. Full of lust. And maybe a tinge of something else stuffed in there, too.

“Bend over. If you mess up one more time, I’m not responsible for what’s going to happen to you,” he turned you around and pressed on your lower back to make you arch your ass for him, “From the top.”

Chris didn’t even give you a chance to adjust to his girth. After ramming himself in, he started fucking you so hard that you were barely in a position to utter comprehensible sentences, let alone translate ancient texts. You tried your utmost best to recollect your poise to be able to at least offer a few sentences.

“My desire is not yet quenched by your love, My wanton little jackal cub. My lust for you I cannot forgo, Though I be beaten and driven off”

“From the top.”

You didn’t mess up this time, but still… He wanted you to start over for some reason. He grabbed the bullet discarded on his desk and pressed it on your clit, not helping your already disheveled situation in the slightest.

“My desire is not yet quenched by your love…”

“From the top.”

“My desire is not yet quenched…”

“From the top!”

“My… desire… is not… CHRIS!!!”

You came so hard around him that Chris had no choice but to let go. You could feel the sheer volume of his load inside you, all warm and wet, and you were simply in love with it. Even after you extracted the last drop out of him, he didn’t pull out and plopped down on his chair while pulling you with him. You rested your head on his shoulder while attempting to come back to your senses.

“God, that was fucking amazing,” you managed to utter with a small voice.

You felt how his lips curled into a smile on your skin. Chris kissed your neck, then nudged you to get up so that he could sit you down on his desk and spread your cum-dripping thighs apart.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re not even slightly done,” he looked up at you, “What are you doing after work today?”

“I uh– I don’t have any plans.”

“Wanna come over?”

You were indulging in these workplace escapades for months on end at that point, but this was the very first time Chris had expressed his desire to carry this outside. He was actually inviting you to his bedroom rather than pursuing a thrill with you.

Your heart swelled in your chest all of a sudden.

“I’d love to,” you smiled at him.

He reciprocated the warm and fuzzy feelings first, then promptly proceeded to make you fully lie down on your back on his desk.

“Sing love songs to me again while I worship you,” he took position between your legs to lick you clean, “From the top, baby.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Nacific pictures dropped. No other reason really.

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#this is masterpiece #LOVE this

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grumpusha · 6 months

Note

How do you think Chris (pre getting together) would have comforted her on a bad mental health day or on a day where she’s sad?

I’m in my feels rn and am in need of some wolfie comfort immediately 😤😤😤

P.S - Love you, Rhythm! Hope you’re doing well always! 🩷

- N. 💄

sorry i held onto this one for so long! i just really wanted to write something for it. here's how i think that would go...

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series. you don’t really need to read any other instalment to understand/enjoy this piece). | Word Count: ~2k | Themes & Warnings: fantasy/supernatural AU · roomies idiots to ??? · fluff · hurt/comfort · pre-relationship scenario

minors do not interact.

Fridays were supposed to be the days to unwind. They were supposed to be the day in which you could let loose and forget about work for the next forty-eight hours. At least, you figured they were supposed to be like that for most people.

This Friday particularly, though, had been absolute hell. The whole week had felt like you’d been impersonating Sisyphus and work had been your boulder. You supposed some weeks just… were like that.

Tonight, all you wanted to do was sit in your room, in the dark–preferably in complete silence and just be nothing. If anyone else came to you and so much as muttered a word you were sure you’d break down and start weeping right then and there.

Which was why, as soon as you found yourself in your flat, you went straight to your room. There was no energy left for showers or baths. All you did was take off your clothes and bury yourself under the covers.

You had a total of ten minutes of complete silence before the front door practically burst open and boisterous voices filled your home. It kick-started a twitch in your left eye, it had frustration tears pooling on your waterline, but you couldn’t just… ruin their fun.

You supposed this was the downside of having a roommate. And not only was he a roommate, but he also happened to be the alpha of a pack of wolves, which meant that more often than not your friends and neighbours made themselves at home.

It was fine. That was fine. You loved your friends, you loved to hang out with them and joke and have little parties in your flat. You loved them all, you knew it very well. But, tonight, every little noise they made made you absolutely furious, which made you feel worse because, logically, you shouldn’t be feeling furious at something like this.

Dealing with these conflicting feelings was hard, so you tried your best to just… tune everything out. With your pillow over your head to muffle any sound as best as you could, you laid on your bed, fully naked, probably leaving mascara stains on your pillowcase, but you honestly couldn’t be bothered to care.

You managed to mute all background noise… the downside was that you’d done so by replaying events of the week over and over again in your head. How you dropped your coffee mug in the middle of the lunch room on Tuesday, that very passive aggressive email one of your colleagues sent you, how you’d stumbled over your words in a meeting today…

It felt like your heart was preparing itself for a marathon with how fast it was beating, but for the most part, you were trying to ignore it. You were trying to ignore everything.

At least, until you heard a knock on your door.

“You up, pretty girl?”

Your roommate’s voice was slightly muffled, but you heard him well. Any other day, you would’ve probably felt your mood immediately lift at the sound of his gentle voice and the pet name he often used to refer to you. But, today, you couldn’t even find it in you to answer.

Eventually, you heard him walking away, and it was honestly like a weight had been lifted off of your chest.

Which, again, made you feel horrible.

You loved your friends, and your roommate was no exception. Although, you weren’t sure if it was fair to compare the feelings you had for your friends to the ones you had for him…

Regardless, the fact that you felt relieved that you didn’t have to talk to him made you feel terrible. The rational part of your brain knew that this was all due to your exhaustion, but even that couldn’t push away the feeling that you were a horrible friend because you were annoyed by his presence.

Your phone vibrated next to your head, and you immediately sighed in response.

You were tired and cranky… but you were also chronically nosy. So you picked up your phone and read the notification on the screen.

> Xtopher 🐺: hey pretty > were gonna watch an episode of that series Felix likes > feel free to join us if you want :]

You figured it was easy for your roommate, Chris, to know you were home. You’d left your shoes at the entrance, and, considering his supernatural senses, you were pretty sure he could always hear and smell whenever you were here.

You genuinely appreciated that Chris took the time to send you a text, it somehow reminded you that he wouldn’t just hate you all of the sudden because you didn’t respond to him when he knocked on your door–it probably wasn’t even the first time you’d done that, anyway.

Sleep wasn’t going to claim you anytime soon, and you were out of spoons for the day, but you’d be damned if you slept without removing your make-up. So you spent the next hour rummaging the metaphorical drawer that was your brain, just so you could hopefully find that last emergency spoon you knew would be buried under the events of the week.

By the time you’d found it, a while had passed since you’d heard your neighbours saying their goodbyes, and your roommate going in and out of the shower.

You had to do this now. If you didn’t stand up from this bed right now, you’d break your one and only self-care rule. You couldn’t let the mean part of your brain win, you just couldn’t… Your week had already been bad enough, you had to have at least one win.

So you stood up from your bed, threw on the first sleeping gown you found, and left your room.

Cleaning your face was honestly a blur. You tried to do it as fast and efficiently as possible. While you did, you debated on whether or not you had enough energy to even eat tonight, but, ultimately, you really didn’t. You weren’t even hungry, just zero appetite.

So you made it back into your room as soon as your face was clean so you could put moisturiser on your face–there was no energy left for any fancy skin care routines, so moisturiser it was. If you had to put on any extra products you’d start crying for real…

“Hey”.

“Jesus!” You whipped your head towards the door, with your hands still on your cheeks where they’d been rubbing in your moisturiser.

Chris stood at your door looking at you, wide-eyed, dressed in nothing but his lounging shorts. Any other day, the sight of his bare chest would’ve agitated the critters that had been living rent-free in your belly lately.

As it was right now, you were starting to feel genuine distress in his presence. Which, once again, made you feel like a horrible friend. Distress wasn’t an emotion that you would’ve associated with Chris in normal circumstances, but you figured this week had gone backwards enough for it to be today.

You swallowed, and turned back to look at yourself in the mirror, focusing on finishing tonight’s pathetic excuse of a skin care routine.

“You alright?” Chris’ tone was… tentative. Almost like he knew you were, in fact, not alright.

You lied anyway.

“M’fine…”

When you finished with your face, you walked right past Chris and into the bathroom to wash your hands. ‘Spread what’s left on your hands to moisturise them, too…’ you could hear your mother’s voice ringing in the back of your mind, but, honestly? If you had to deal with the feeling of cream on your hands for a second longer you’d commit crimes.

As you washed your hands, you felt Chris’ presence behind you, right outside the bathroom.

“You sure?”

“Positive”, you were, clearly, not fine. But you didn’t want to continue this conversation further, if you did, you feared what might come out of your mouth.

“Y’know you can talk to me, ri–”

“Yes! Yes, I know. I know, Chris. I really do, but I don’t want to do that, you know? I don’t wanna talk, don’t wanna hear, don’t wanna really exist for what’s left of the day, okay?! Maybe it’s better if you mind your own business instead!”

God, you were the worst person on the planet… Here he was, worrying about you like he always did, offering comfort and support, and you weren’t even capable of keeping the annoyance out of your voice, you couldn’t even stop yourself from saying things you didn’t really mean. Why did you let it escalate so quickly? Another one for the tally of Stupid Things I Did This Week that you can sulk over later…

Chris stared at you for a moment, with his eyebrows high on his forehead, opening and closing his mouth for a bit.

A knot started to form in your throat, and no matter how hard you tried to swallow it and ignore its presence, you just… couldn’t.

“My God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you…” You sighed deeply, pressing your fingertips on your eye sockets. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, I’m just so, so exhausted, and I just… I need some silence, okay? I appreciate you asking, but I really need to just… be quiet. I need you to know it’s not you, this is completely on me, but please would you just… not talk to me?”

You really felt like you wanted to cry, you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole… Especially because Chris wasn’t saying anything. Which was a very stupid reaction to have when you had just asked him to not talk to you.

When you removed your fingers from your face, you jolted on the spot at the sight in front of you.

You knew Chris was a werewolf. Hell, you’d seen him in his wolf form numerous times already, but sometimes it was hard not to be startled by it.

Chris sat on the floor of the hall, right outside the bathroom, looking you right in the eyes while his tail swished from side to side on the tiles.

You wondered if he’d even fit through the doorway. He was so… big. So big, and so… so cute.

The logical reaction would’ve been to be at least a bit intimidated. He was pretty much at eye-level with you, he was stronger than you, he could very well hurt you with a snap of his jaw, but his eyes were just the same. Gentle, comforting… You were sure that if there’d been twenty more wolves next to him, you would’ve been able to tell him apart from the rest just by his eyes.

Chris whined, and he stomped on the floor with his paw to get your attention. You blinked at him for a bit, and only then did you notice you had actually started to tear up.

Chris whined again, and then huffed. That seemed to be enough to snap you out of it. You could feel your lower lip wobble, but you still walked closer to him, leaving the bathroom to stand in the hall with him.

As soon as you were out of the bathroom he stood on his four legs, and walked further into your space to nudge your hand with his nose. It was odd, really, but looking at him like this seemed to ease some of that squeezing sensation in your chest.

The realisation that he wouldn’t be able to talk to you while in his wolf form was steadily helping you calm down, or, maybe… It was more so the fact that he was trying to respect your wishes, while also not leaving you completely on your own.

“M’sorry…” You apologised again, because you truly were sorry.

There was a small part of you that always worried that days like these would make him suddenly realise you were the worst roommate on the planet, that maybe you were a horrible friend. But, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t hold it against you. That was just the type of man Chris was.

With a minute shake of your head, you placed a hand under his jaw to support his head, and the other on top so you could scratch him behind the ears. Just because you could.

Even if Chris wouldn’t outright admit it to you, you knew he liked it. His wagging tail was more than proof of that.

“Are you my emotional support animal now?” You mumbled, tears were still running down your cheeks, but only sporadically now.

Chris just huffed, and if you looked hard enough, you could’ve sworn there was amusement in his eyes.

He removed himself from your space and turned in circles a couple of times before he was gently taking your wrist in his mouth. You could feel his teeth barely poke your skin, but you could tell he was being very careful.

He pulled a bit. You figured it was his way of telling you to follow him, so you started to walk. Only then did Chris let go of your wrist to start making his way down the hall.

Wiping the tears on your face–ignoring both the discarded lounge shorts by the bathroom door and the fact that you most definitely ruined tonight’s minimal skin care with your tears–you followed Chris to the living room.

As soon as he was in front of the sofa, he nudged the coffee table away with his head, and grabbed one of the blankets you left in a basket nearby to throw it on the floor. He spun on the spot a couple of times, before he plopped down and started pawing at the floor, looking right at you.

You wanted to cry again, but this time, it wasn’t because you were overwhelmed or frustrated. It was just the fact that Chris was… offering comfort cuddles. In his wolf form… in a form that’d make it so he not only wouldn’t talk, but would just be essentially a heated pile of fluff.

And you really, really appreciated it. Mostly because it made you feel like less of a failure, like you weren’t such a horrible friend after all.

Ignoring the fluttering in your heart, you made your way to where he was, took another blanket from the basket, and laid down.

With your head leaning on him, feeling him breathing steadily under you, you simply stared at the ceiling. You weren’t sure if it was the fact that you were laying on the floor, or just his warmth, but after a while, you started to calm down.

Your eyelids felt heavy, you could barely hear anything that wasn’t Chris’ quiet huffs. Eventually, he moved. You lowered your head to the floor for a moment while he took a cushion from the sofa and dropped it next to you, which you took as a sign to use it as a pillow.

Once you were comfortably laying down again with your cushion and your blanket, he simply curled around your body, keeping you warm.

You felt your heart swell, maybe even beat a bit faster against your ribcage, and as you cuddled closer to the big lump of fluff that was your roommate, you couldn’t help but mumble a quiet ‘Thank you…’ right before you fell asleep.

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#that’s so precious #i love this sooooo much

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