#[i already talked to chaos about them because of course i did but i could always talk more!]

[scoupsakakitty]

Hii new here and love your work already!

May I request Something about Junhui

Y/n being sick during her pregnancy (if you are comfortable) and Junhui brings her with them while they filmed “In the Soop” to keep an eye on her and unknowingly their relationship gets exposed once the episode air and she cries real bad and the group help him calm her down!

Unexpected Reveal | idol!Jun x Reader | angst, fluff

Filming In the Soop was supposed to be a peaceful getaway. A chance for the members to relax, reset, and spend quality time together away from the usual chaos of idol life.

But for Junhui, this trip had an entirely different purpose.

"You sure you’re okay with this, baobei?" (A/N: For everyone who don't know what baobei means, it means something like Darling) Jun asked softly, kneeling beside the couch where Y/N lay, bundled in a thick blanket. His hand brushed against her forehead, checking for any lingering fever. "We can still go back if it’s too much for you."

She shook her head, offering him a weak smile. "I’d rather be here with you than alone at home."

Y/N was in the early stages of her pregnancy, and it had been far from easy. Morning sickness hit her hard, exhaustion came in waves, and her body ached in ways she hadn’t expected. Jun had barely let her out of his sight, and when filming In the Soop came up, he insisted on bringing her along��secretly, of course.

The members had been incredibly supportive. Seungcheol and Jeonghan helped distract the cameras, Woozi pretended not to see Jun sneaking into Y/N’s room every night, and the younger ones took turns delivering food to her cabin so she wouldn’t have to move much.

It worked.

Or at least, they thought it did.

When the episode aired weeks later, the internet exploded.

Clips of Jun carefully adjusting a pillow in an empty room. A faint silhouette in the background of his personal vlog. The way he seemed distracted, always checking his phone.

And then, the biggest mistake of all—one of the GoPro cameras accidentally left on inside the cabin.

It wasn’t much, just a short clip of Junhui entering with a warm bowl of soup and a soft, “Baobei, you need to eat.” But it was enough.

The comments flooded in.

*Who’s in Jun’s room??? *Did he just say ‘baobei’?????? *Wait, is this why he kept disappearing during the show?! *Jun’s married?! JUN HAS A WHOLE WIFE????

The speculation spiraled out of control. Some fans celebrated, some felt betrayed, and some simply refused to believe it.

But the damage was done.

Y/N sat curled on their couch, knees pulled to her chest, as she scrolled through the endless posts. The anxiety swelled in her chest until it was unbearable, and before she could stop herself, she burst into tears.

"Y/N, hey—" Jun rushed to her side, alarmed. "Baobei, don’t cry. Please don’t cry."

“I ruined everything,” she sobbed, voice shaky. “Everyone’s talking about you. About us. What if—what if it affects your career? What if people hate you because of me?”

Jun’s heart clenched.

He gathered her into his arms, rubbing slow circles on her back as she cried into his chest. “Shh, that’s not true. You didn’t ruin anything, okay? If anything, this was my fault—I should’ve been more careful.”

The door suddenly burst open, and in came Seungcheol, followed closely by Jeonghan and Minghao.

“Is she okay?” Jeonghan asked, concern etched in his features.

“No,” Jun answered honestly, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Seungcheol crouched down in front of them, resting a gentle hand on Y/N’s knee. “Hey, don’t read the comments, okay? People will always have things to say, but they don’t know you. They don’t know how much Jun loves you, how much he’s willing to fight for you.”

Minghao sat beside her, his voice soft. “You’re not alone in this. We’re family. We’ll handle this together.”

Y/N sniffled, looking up at them. “But… what if they—”

“They won’t.” Jun cut her off firmly. “Even if they do, I don’t care. You and our baby matter more to me than any of this.”

She let out a small, choked laugh. “That was really cheesy.”

Jeonghan smirked. “He’s been watching too many dramas again.”

Laughter rippled through the room, lightening the heavy atmosphere.

Jun wiped her tears, cradling her face in his hands. “We’ll be okay, baobei. I promise.”

And looking at the warmth surrounding her, the love in Jun’s eyes, and the unwavering support of their family, Y/N finally let herself believe it.

[thriceboundhome]

I will make a post about how these three sleep. i will. I just. it depends on who it's with. it changes, not by much but how their body just adapts to whoever they're laying next to

[grison-in-space]

Has Biden actually done anything at all? There's evidence going around and I think it's compelling, the alternate to voting is instead doing actual social work and participating in protests and organizing political action, which is a good idea i think

1) Yes. Inarguably this has been the most effective progressive domestic administration since I have been alive, and I'm in my thirties. What in the fuck are you talking about? It's not perfect, but it's better than we've seen in fifty years: Obama tried, but Democratic Congressional organization was just not yet used to working with a completely obstructionist GOP Congress in the wake of the tea party.

Even in terms of foreign policy, this is also pretty much as good as US involvement gets. Sorry. Our foreign policy has been shaped by monsters for decades, and that's even without dealing with our huge and active branch of Christian doom cultists. There ain't a candidate in the world that could stop the entire accumulated momentum of geopolitics with a snap of the finger, and I'm not really willing to pretend that Biden is particularly notable for not managing to fix Israel/Palestine relations.

2) In your own words, anon, what precisely does organizing political action entail without participating in the political process? Do you think that abstaining from the part of the gig where you, the citizen, get to say which official gets the job somehow makes your opinions matter more to your elected public officials? Have you ever organized to get so much as a municipal one-time library project budget expanded? Are you perhaps only skilled at political argument with people who already agree with you on the Internet?

What is your leverage, and could it reasonably be described as "extortion" or "blackmail" or "political corruption?" Because those are pretty much the only things on the table that can work more effectively to drive an elected official than a disciplined coalition of political allies (who can be purchased with, you guessed it, votes) or a reliable bloc of voter support. Your vote matters less than the ones you bring with you, sure. Do you think that not voting yourself somehow helps people organize to drive more votes? Have you perhaps replaced your complex reasoning skills with a rapidly dying jellyfish?

3) Holy passive vagueness, Batman! "Evidence is going around." What a masterpiece of a sentence! How it suggests everything while providing nothing! What evidence? Who collected it? Who is talking about the evidence "going around?" Who is listening? How many of them are there? What did they think before? The more I think, the more questions I have, and damn if they ain't predisposing me to be even less charitable.

Like, this is so catastrophically poorly supported that I have to confess that I not only believe this is probably an ask in bad faith (i.e. by someone who is expecting to piss me off or otherwise engage with me adversarially, probably spammed to a whole host of blogs at once with no expectation of response) but I actively hope that it is. The alternative is to have to grapple with the reality that some people are so uncomfortable with the responsibility of moral agency that they're willing to release useful levers of legal and social power just so that they never do anything problematic with that power. Much better, of course, to wash one's hands of anything that might have the stink of responsibility clinging to it. Might fall from the membership of the Elect if you actually get yourself all muddy by doing things, I reckon.

I don't even believe that voting is the only lever we have when it comes to our elected officials or that votes are necessary to secure change, and I am certainly not talking about the presidential ticket alone when I talk voting. What I do believe is two things: one, that voting is a potential lever of power on the emergent chaos of the society in which we live. And two, that anyone telling me to leave a lever of power on the ground without a damn good reason is either incompetent, malicious, or both.

[mariasont]

I'm so glad you love writing for bimbo reader x Hotch because i love READING them so much 💕

What about reader getting jealous a witness or unsub is flirting with Hotch? Kinda like how the prostitutes are always flirting with Reid but this time it's Hotch getting all awkward and reader misreading it and thinking he's interested back?

Love your stuff!

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY - A.H

a/n: hi so im so glad you love bimbo reader 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 that literally makes me so happy, thank you sm for requesting i hope you like that <3

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: reader being jelly, kind of out of character for bimbo reader honestly, she’s also a little flustered in this fic which also feels out of character but i kind of like it idk lmk what yall think

wc: 1.2k

The space between her hand and Hotch's bicep was dangerously narrow. She was saying something--something that was way flirtier than the situation required. Matter of fact than any situation required. Your pink nails, the same shade as your favorite bubblegum lip gloss, dug into the flesh of your palm, your lips forming a tight line as you fought the green jealousy that bubbled up like champagne.

It was fine. You were fine.

Until it wasn't.

She flashed a smile at Hotch, one that was undeniably pretty which only served to make your blood boil a degree hotter.

She was stunning, black hair, red lips, perfect skin. You loved yourself, obviously, but it was not in your character to deny that this woman was gorgeous by nature and she was edgeding her chair closer to him.

"Thank you so much for your help today, Agent Hotchner." Her voice had climbed a few pitches in comparison than when she was talking privately with you. "Is it okay if I give you my number, just in case I think of anything else?"

"Of course." Hotch was smiling-- no beaming--at the woman, reaching into his pocket to grab his business card.

Your lashes fluttered up and down is disbelief, jealously rolling off of you in category nine waves. You folded your hands on top of your skirt, cleaning and unclenching until you started to lose feeling in your fingertips.

You're fine, just take a deep breath. Hotch was simply being polite. That's it. But the rationalized thoughts in your head did not match the quicksand feeling in your stomach.

Unfortunately for you, showing and expressing your feelings in an appropriate manner had always been a struggle. Articulating when things were bothering you was a foreign language to you. The other side to this was you had no logical reason to feel the way you did. He was your boss, and you were his assistant. He wasn't your boyfriend. But that fine distinction did nothing to dampen the primal impulse to reach across the desk and drag the woman by her hair. 

That was dramatic, really. It was unfair to project your ugly feelings onto her when in all honestly, in her position, you’d be doing the exact same.

As much as you loved your job and adored your boss, sometimes you wished you didn’t work for him so you could push the boundaries just a little bit when it came to flirting with him.

Thankfully, for the sake of your career, the woman gone before your rash instincts could manifest into action. You needed to get a grip and possibly go reapply your lipstick.

You spent the majority of the day, from that point, avoiding Hotch like the plague. You weren't quite equipped to sift through the emotional chaos brewing inside you, especially when your focus needed to be on getting your tasks done, not on who Hotch might be interested in. It didn't matter if he liked that woman. You could cope. Maybe.

When you did have to come into contact with him, you found yourself acting like a wounded animal. The sight of his face only served to replay that stupid smile he flashed at her. He was probably already in love, daydreaming about their shared life ahead. Their three kids, the white picket fence, maybe even a dog.

You flipped open your makeup mirror, dabbing powder on to your nose and forehead while mentally reminding yourself to pull it together and behave like the grown-up you were supposed to be.

No sooner had you left the bathroom had you crashed into something, legs betraying you as you lurched forward, nearly spiraling to the floor. Your hands shot out, closing around the nearest object which felt to be the lapels of a suit. 

Your gaze snapped into sharp focus. Yes, definitely the lapels of a suit, and not just any suit--It was Hotch's.

Fantastic.

You quickly retracted your hands, letting them hang limply by your sides as you took a cautious step backward.

His brows furrowed, lips tipping downward as he absently adjusted his watch. "You okay?"

"Peachy!”

That was too much.

You attempted to sidestep him, but he anticipated the move. His arm reached out with surprising speed, fastening around your wrist to keep you in place.

"Hey." It was funny how a single word in that deep voice of his was enough to make your heart beat a little faster. "You've been avoiding me all day. I don't want to pry, but if there's something I've done to upset you, I'd like to know so we can clear the air."

"What?" you responded too quickly, avoiding his gaze as your hand went to your neck. "Oh, no, no, it's not you, sir. I just... I think I might be catching a cold or something. Just feeling a bit woozy."

You were definitely coming down with something—it was a green, nasty disease that had your judgement in a clouded haze.

He smiled, making your heart go into overdrive. "You're a terrible liar."

"No idea what you mean." Your voice went up an octave too high. "But, um, there's a bunch of witnesses I need to follow up with. There's this one who was... really eager. Maybe she'd respond better to you?"

There was a pause before Hotch spoke, his voice low and certain. "I've seen many reactions from you, but jealousy? Is that what's happening here?"

You blinked rapidly, heat rising to your cheeks. "Jealous? That's... that's ridiculous."

"I'd like to think I know you better than that." He gave you a deadpan look. "You've been avoiding eye contact, you've been unusually quiet, and I didn't necessarily miss that look you gave her."

You swallowed hard, proving him right and looking anywhere but him as you fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve. 

"It's not... it's just, you know... I don't know, the smile you gave her, it seemed a bit unprofessional to me."

Your words tumbled out in a flustered rush, not capable of taking them back as you realized the absurdity of it all.

Hotch's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Unprofessional? Did it look like I was flirting? Because that would be a first."

"No, I don't think you were flirting, not exactly." You should stop yourself while you're ahead. "But she was, and you didn't exactly shut it down."

Hotch's face was unreadable. "Honestly, I didn't even realize she was flirting with me. Even so, I'm curious—why would that bother you?"

"Well, I mean, I... It doesn't, not really. I just think we should all be focused, that's all," you managed, voice faltering as you tried to be convincing.

"I assure you, my focus is on all the right places," Hotch said, taking a step closer that almost felt invasive. His gaze dropped to your lips momentarily before snapping back up to your eyes.

"O-okay."

The closeness of him was sending your body into overdrive, the room suddenly feeling too small, his presence way too intense.

"And just for the record," Hotch said over his shoulder as he turned to leave. "If I were to flirt, trust me, it would be with someone who already had all my attention."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253 @broadwaytraaaaash

[andy-15-07]

Hii good morning! Would you like to write anything smut for Javier Peña or any other Pedro's character you like? Thankss

The Allure of the Night

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Word Count: 2334 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The dim light of the bar cast long shadows, painting the scene in hues of amber and gold. Javier Peña nursed his drink, the ice clinking softly in the otherwise quiet space. He watched as you moved across the room, a vibrant splash of color in the muted atmosphere. Your laughter, light and unrestrained, drifted over to him, and he found himself smiling despite the weight of the day. He’d known you for… how long had it been now? Long enough to know the curve of your smile, the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you were truly amused, long enough to know the comfort of your presence amidst the chaos that was his life.

You reached his table, a playful glint in your eyes. “Javier. You look like you’re contemplating the mysteries of the universe.”

He chuckled, gesturing to the empty chair opposite him. “Just thinking about how much trouble one woman can cause.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. “And what trouble have I caused, Agent Peña?”

“Oh, you know,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “The usual. Disrupting the peace, corrupting my morals…”

“Your morals were already corrupt, Javier,” you retorted, sliding into the chair. “I just helped you embrace it.”

He laughed, the sound genuine and warm. “That you did. That you did.” He signaled the bartender for another drink. “So, what brings you out tonight? Besides the irresistible allure of my company, of course.”

“You wound me, Javier,” you said, feigning hurt. “Your company is always a draw. But I actually came to hear about your latest escapades. Anything exciting happening in the world of drug cartels and international intrigue?”

Javier’s smile faded slightly. “Same old, same old. Cat and mouse. Except sometimes it’s hard to tell who’s the cat and who’s the mouse.” He swirled the ice in his glass. “It’s… complicated.”

“Complicated seems to be your specialty,” you said softly. You reached out and covered his hand with yours, the simple gesture grounding him. “You know you can talk to me about anything, Javier.”

He looked at your hand on his, the warmth of your touch a welcome contrast to the coldness of the metal. “I know,” he said, his voice rough. “And I appreciate it. More than you know.”

The conversation flowed easily between them, a comfortable mix of banter and shared confidences. They talked about the case, the frustrations, the small victories that kept him going. You listened patiently, offering insightful comments and a sympathetic ear. You understood his world, not because you were a part of it, but because you understood him.

As the night deepened, the bar emptied, leaving only a handful of patrons. Javier and you remained, lost in your own little world. The air between you crackled with an unspoken tension, a familiar dance of attraction and hesitation. You both knew where this could lead, where it usually led, but neither of you dared to break the comfortable rhythm.

Finally, Javier leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on you. “You know,” he said, his voice low and husky, “I’ve been thinking…”

“Oh, this sounds dangerous,” you teased. “Javier Peña thinking.”

He grinned, a flash of white teeth in the dim light. “Dangerous is my middle name. Or it should be. Anyway, I was thinking… about how much I enjoy your company.”

“Is that so?” you purred, meeting his gaze.

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes tracing the curve of your jawline. “I do. You’re… you’re good for me.”

“And you’re good for me,” you replied, your voice barely a whisper.

He reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. A spark ignited, a familiar flame that flickered to life between them. He pulled your hand towards him, his touch surprisingly gentle. You didn’t resist.

“Come here,” he murmured, his voice laced with desire.

You stood up, your chair scraping against the floor. He met you halfway, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. The scent of his cologne filled your senses, a heady mix of sandalwood and something distinctly Javier. You tilted your head back, offering him your lips.

His kiss was slow and deliberate, a探求 touch that ignited a fire within you. It was a kiss that spoke of unspoken desires, of a connection that ran deeper than either of you were willing to admit. He deepened the kiss, his hand moving to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair.

The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, locked in a moment of shared passion. The bar, the case, the complications of his life… all of it disappeared, replaced by the intensity of his touch, the heat of his kiss.

He broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching yours. “Come home with me,” he whispered.

You didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” you breathed.

The drive back to his apartment was a blur. Neither of you spoke, the silence filled with anticipation. When they arrived, Javier unlocked the door and ushered you inside. The apartment was dimly lit, the only light coming from the streetlamps outside.

He turned to you, his eyes burning with intensity. He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

You blushed, the compliment warming you from the inside out. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He pulled you close again, his arms wrapping around you tightly. He kissed you again, a kiss that was filled with a desperate longing. His hands moved over your body, exploring the curves and contours you knew so well.

He led you to the bedroom, the air thick with unspoken promises. He closed the door behind him, shutting out the world. He turned to you, his eyes filled with a raw desire that made your breath catch in your throat.

He reached out and began to unbutton your shirt, his fingers fumbling slightly. You met his gaze, your own heart pounding in your chest. He undressed you slowly, savoring every moment. You did the same for him, your fingers trembling slightly as you unbuttoned his shirt.

He pulled you close, his body pressed against yours. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the hard muscles beneath his skin. He kissed you again, his tongue tracing the outline of your lips. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more demanding.

He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. You gasped, your hands clutching his shoulders. He carried you to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He laid you down gently, his body hovering over yours.

He kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck, your chest. He explored every inch of your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You moaned softly, your hands tangling in his hair.

He moved lower, his lips brushing against your skin. You arched your back, your breath catching in your throat. He continued his exploration, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you.

He finally entered you, his movements slow and deliberate. You gasped, your body tightening around him. He paused, his eyes searching yours. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes.”

He began to move, his pace quickening. You met his rhythm, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony. The world dissolved, leaving only the two of you, lost in the throes of passion. You cried out his name, your voice filled with a desperate longing. He answered you with a groan, his body shuddering as he reached his climax.

He collapsed on top of you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. You held him close, your fingers stroking his hair. The silence was broken only by the sound of your breathing, the beating of your hearts.

He finally rolled over, pulling you with him. He held you close, his arm wrapped around you protectively. You snuggled against him, your head resting on his chest. You could feel the steady beat of his heart, a comforting rhythm that lulled you to sleep.

The morning light streamed through the window, waking you gently. You stretched, your body feeling pleasantly sore. You turned to find Javier sleeping soundly beside you, his face relaxed and peaceful. You smiled, a feeling of warmth spreading through you. You reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead.

He stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He looked at you, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Morning,” he murmured.

“Morning,” you replied.

He pulled you closer, his arm tightening around you. He kissed you softly, a lingering kiss that spoke of affection and tenderness. “I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered.

“Me too,” you replied, snuggling against him.

The dim silence of the early morning had given way to a warm glow as you slowly stirred beside Javier. The memory of last night’s fierce passion still shimmered in the quiet air of his bedroom. Your body felt pleasantly tender and alive with anticipation for what the morning might bring. As you shifted on the rumpled sheets, Javier’s eyes fluttered open, heavy with sleep but quickly brightening at the sight of you.

“Good morning,” he murmured in a husky tone, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your bare arm. His voice carried a mix of lingering desire and a promise of more.

“Good morning,” you replied, a teasing smile curving your lips. “I was hoping we’d have a few more moments like last night.”

Javier’s gaze darkened with need as he shifted closer. “I can’t get enough of you,” he whispered. “Tell me, do you want to taste me… again?”

The question, spoken with both vulnerability and raw passion, sent a shiver through you. You slid your hand to his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart beneath your palm. “I want every bit of you, Javier. Let’s not hold back.”

In that intimate, sunlit haze, the roles of giver and receiver blurred in a dance as old as desire itself. Javier was the first to act—his lips trailing heated kisses along your collarbone before softly biting at your skin, eliciting a quiet moan from you. You arched into his touch, your body inviting his exploration. With deliberate care, he began unfastening the delicate straps of your lingerie, his tongue occasionally flicking out to taste the warm skin revealed with each freed inch.

Moments later, you took control, shifting so that your eyes met his in a silent exchange of mutual invitation. “Now it’s my turn,” you said breathlessly. You slowly slid off the top of his loose T-shirt, your hands exploring the hard planes of his torso. Your fingertips grazed over the sensitive skin of his chest, drawing a low groan as you trailed kisses downward, savoring the subtle saltiness of his skin.

Before long, you found yourself kneeling between his thighs, his eyes never leaving yours. The raw desire in his gaze spurred you on as you began to tease him with gentle, exploratory kisses along the inside of his thigh. His hand threaded through your hair as his breath grew ragged, his murmurs mingling with the soft sounds of your ministrations. You took your time, letting each kiss and soft lick build the intensity between you. When you finally moved closer, your warm mouth enveloped him; every deliberate stroke of your tongue was a pledge of your shared passion.

“God, you feel so good,” he groaned, his hands resting on your head to guide your movements. His pleasure was as evident as the way his body responded to your every touch, and soon you both were caught in an intoxicating rhythm of mutual giving.

But the intimacy did not stop there. As the taste of desire and satisfaction mingled with the soft light of morning, Javier shifted his focus. With a gentle yet commanding look, he guided you so that you lay back, your body exposed in a vulnerable yet empowered state. “Now, let me show you how much I crave you,” he whispered.

Rising to his knees, he began his own exploration, his tongue tracing patterns along your inner thigh before finally reaching the most sensitive places. Every touch, every flicker of his tongue, brought soft gasps and the quickening of your breath. You arched your back, your hands gripping the sheets as waves of pleasure built inside you. In the quiet intimacy of that morning, you were both performers in a delicate, passionate duet, each act of oral caressing the other as much as it filled you with need.

Between whispered words and the music of soft moans, you exchanged playful, heated dialogue. “You taste even better than I remembered,” Javier murmured as you both took turns exploring each other’s most intimate parts. “I love hearing you moan, knowing that every inch of you is mine,” he said, his voice low and filled with adoration.

“You make me feel alive,” you responded, your words punctuated by another soft moan as he switched back to you, ensuring that every bit of desire was both given and received. The raw energy of your morning encounter was as wild as it was tender—a true celebration of trust, passion, and the magnetic pull that drew you both together time and again.

As your bodies reached a blissful crescendo, the lines between giving and receiving blurred until you were both lost in a haze of mutual ecstasy. In the aftermath, breathless and spent, you lay entwined in each other’s arms, the quiet of the morning punctuated only by soft, contented sighs. The passion of the night had transformed into a gentle, lingering tenderness as you both savored the afterglow.

In that sacred space of shared vulnerability, you knew without words that this was more than just a physical connection—it was an affirmation of the depth of your desire, trust, and the unspoken promise of many more mornings filled with both wild abandon and tender intimacy.

[vettelsvee]

THE CALL OF LOVE | Sebastian Vettel

Primary School Teacher!Sebastian Vettel x Primary School Teacher!Reader ↳ Teacher AU ⋆ Part of CLASSROOM GOSSIPS

SUMMARY: Seb is the cool, annoying, extroverted teacher, while you are the shy, introverted and perfectionist one. Seb phones you all the time because he wants to get closer with you somehow but, also, he knows that you suffer from pretty bad anxiety and wants to respect your boundaries. However, when you have to go to Seb's class and ask him for help after your classroom becomes pure chaos, he finds the perfect opportunity to become closer with you... only to find out that, definitely, you want to get closer with him as well even your anxiety says otherwise ↳ BASED ON THIS POST I MADE TODAY!

WORD COUNT: 4798

WARNINGS: Mentions of anxiety, curse words. Lots of fluff (I loved this Seb btw).

TAGLIST: @koalapastries @blushmimi @herdetectivetheorist @awnmaneez

VEE'S NOTES: Third Teacher!Seb fic in a row since you asked! Hope you liked it as much as I loved writing it! Thank you for all the love you're giving to this, really, I'm so grateful <3 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

Although it wasn’t enough for many, you were more than happy being a teacher at one of the most well-known schools in Heppenheim, a small town in Germany. 

Now that you had achieved your dream, all you wanted was things to flow perfectly. The main problem? Your anxiety and constant need for perfection, which were the most notable things about you. On top of that, there was the strict routine that was almost impossible to deviate from. However, the real problem lay in everything related to socializing... not with your students or their parents, but with the rest of the teachers.

Sebastian Vettel, the teacher of the other 2nd grade class, had also started working there that same year. Although you initially thought your relationship would be a calm one, the reality was far from that. Seb was the complete opposite of you: a walking chaos, with more than enough confidence and a charm that made him some kind of superhero to his students.

You tried your best to keep a professional relationship with him, but it was impossible. When you wanted to do a project on biodiversity with perfectly structured activities aligned with the curriculum, Seb preferred to take them outside to let them see it for themselves. If you thought it would be a great idea for them to write a small essay about Christmas, Seb preferred to show them a movie because, in his words, “they would have time to write when they’re older.”

And if that wasn’t enough, Sebastian had the annoying habit of calling your classroom phone several times a day with ridiculous questions:

“Miss Y/L/N speaking,” you answered as calmly as you could, while still supervising your students coloring.

“Y/N!” Sebastian shouted from the other end of the line. “Hey, quick question... Do our students need permission from their parents to go out?”

“To go out? Do you mean… recess?” you frowned.

“Of course!”

“No, Sebastian, the kids don’t need permission to go out during break. It's mandatory,” you added with a hint of sarcasm.

“Great, thanks! By the way, did you know the hold music is super cute? I thought you'd want to know since it's as cute as you and…”

You hung up before he could continue.

The next day, the same thing: Sebastian called just to ask whether necessary needed one "c" or two. The day after, it was to ask whether the coffee in the teacher's lounge was free.

It was never anything serious. There was never an emergency or anything like that. It was simply Sebastian Vettel asking you the most stupid things, things he already knew perfectly well. Despite that, you forced yourself to answer the phone, trying to calm your anxiety while giving him a quick, convincing response to get him off the line, before hanging up.

You knew you could ignore him, but deep down, this strange routine had become your favorite part of the day.

And, unbeknownst to you, for Sebastian, it had too.

Seb knew exactly how you felt about him; about any interaction with your colleagues, in fact. He was fully aware that you were a little scared of speaking in public. He could tell by moments like when you nervously played with a pink pen with butterflies every time you had to speak during staff meetings, or when during the Christmas play, just before going on stage with him and your students, you excused yourself by saying you were about to vomit... something that wasn’t entirely an excuse.

To him, you were the brightest person he had ever met. The way you taught, how you cared for your students, how he noticed you watching him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention... Seb knew that being this persistent could have the opposite effect on you, but as much as he wanted to take a step forward and maybe become a friend, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or pressure you into anything you didn’t want.

So, Sebastian decided to stop calling you.

You were puzzled when the phone didn’t ring. At first, you considered it a good thing, but as the hours went by, you realized something was missing.

The day felt endless, something that rarely happened to you. The same went for your mood, which had plummeted. And as if that weren’t enough, the art class turned into an absolute disaster, and you didn’t know how to manage it, no matter how hard you tried to calm your anxiety and think of alternatives to wrap it up as soon as possible.

Your students only needed a few minutes working on their own, making animals out of paper-mâché, while you corrected math tests, to turn the class into a total mess. There were strips of paper everywhere. The younger kids had glue all over their hands, leaving trails everywhere. One of the blue paint cans had even fallen to the floor, spreading quickly.

To make matters worse, when you tried calling Sebastian to see if he could bring you a mop, the phone decided to stop working.

You sighed and looked at the door separating your classroom from his, realizing that you had no choice but to admit to yourself that, as hard as it was to ask, you needed help.

Without saying anything to your students, you took a deep breath and shyly cracked open the door.

Sebastian was sitting at his desk, gesturing dramatically with his hands while his students stared at him as he seemed to be telling them a story.

"So, there I was, in front of a goat, after losing my parents. And do you know what happened next?" he said, walking dramatically and opening his eyes wide.

“What happened, Mr. Vettel?!” the kids shouted.

“The goat ate the sandwich my mom had made me for the trip.”

The class burst into laughter.

You couldn’t help it and laughed too, stopping when the embarrassment of having to interrupt the class just to ask for help washed over you once again. You couldn’t just walk in there like it was nothing, and—

“Oh my goodness! Look, kids, we have a surprise guest!”

You paled. The 30 second graders all turned towards you at once, their faces lighting up as if they’d seen an alien.

Then, they started chanting your name and running toward you to hug you, forcing you to step inside. Sebastian hopped down from his desk and approached you, arms crossed and wearing a smile that, if you were honest with yourself, you were dying to see.

“What do I owe the pleasure, Miss Y/L/N?”

You clenched your fists, knowing there was no way around it.

“Well… I need your help, Mr. Vettel,” you admitted in a low voice.

Sebastian blinked. Although it took him completely by surprise, he didn’t say anything else. Instead, he turned to his students.

“Alright, kiddos. I need you to be really good and stay quiet for a moment while I help our favorite teacher, okay? I’m right here, so if I hear any shouting, I’ll take away your snacks and Friday’s movie tradition.”

A collective gasp spread through the class, but Sebastian didn’t have to say anything else. Immediately, all the kids went back to their seats and pulled out books to read.

To your surprise, they didn’t make another sound.

“Come on, Miss Y/L/N, lead the way.”

You followed his lead, and then it was you who invited Seb to come in. Once he stepped inside, the German had no words. Instead, his eyes started to scan the room.

“Wow…”

“Yeah, I know…” you sighed.

Sebastian slowly turned to face you, trying not to laugh. Of all the chaos, what surprised him most was that one of the kids, named Martin, had his shirt stuck to the chair, covered in glue, and three desks were completely covered in the same blue paint that was on the floor. To top it off, the stain you had seen moments ago had spread not only on the floor but also on the clothes and faces of many of your students.

That’s when you realized the worst.

A group of girls was standing, whispering to each other, around the hamster cage in the class... which was empty.

“Y/N…” Seb lowered his voice. “Tell me the hamster’s in the cage, but I don’t see it…”

“It’s somewhere in the classroom. The problem is, I don’t know where, and there’s only half an hour left before the day ends…” You admitted, feeling quite embarrassed.

“Are you telling me there’s a dwarf hamster loose around here?”

“Are you going to help me or what?” you snapped, frustrated, glaring at him. “Look, Sebastian… We don’t have much time before we have to leave, and if I don’t get the kids out at the exact time, just like they were brought in, you know the parents are going to go crazy…”

“Relax, Y/N. I got it.”

You didn’t have much idea what could be going through Sebastian’s head, let alone how he’d manage to fix this, but you tried to relax and give him a chance for everything to return to normal little by little.

To your surprise, that’s exactly what happened.

Not only did he divide the children into small groups to do simple tasks, like going to the bathroom to clean up, looking for the class hamster (which they found almost immediately, curled up beside a cabinet), or collecting the materials they’d used and putting them away, but he also took both classes to the school exit so you wouldn’t have to face desperate parents asking why their kids looked like they’d just been on a jungle expedition.

The bell marking the end of school had rung half an hour ago, and you were fully aware that most teachers had probably packed up and gone home by now. Sebastian hadn’t even appeared to tell you that his students had returned safely to their parents, and, for a reason you knew all too well, that disappointed you.

You sighed, trying to let go of those thoughts and illusions that shouldn’t matter so much. Instead, you focused on the pile of papers on your desk, the art supplies that still hadn’t been put away, and the paint that, no matter how hard you tried to clean it off the floor, seemed impossible to remove. You decided to calm down and start with something simple, like putting away the materials and picking up tiny pieces of paper from the floor.

“Do you know school’s over for today, right?”

You turned to the door. Sebastian was leaning against it, arms crossed and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. He threw his backpack on the floor and walked over to sit next to you, helping you pick up the papers without any explanation.

“No… I didn’t hear you come in…” you confessed in surprise. And I wasn’t expecting you, you thought.

“That’s because I’m as sneaky as a ninja. The kids tell me that all the time,” he smiled, glancing at you sideways.

Seb continued his task, silent, scanning the classroom. It was no longer the disaster it had been just an hour ago. Now, the desks were perfectly grouped in fives, the class materials seemed to finally be in place, and, to your surprise, the stains had disappeared from everywhere.

“Y/N, you should go home,” Sebastian told you, standing up and helping you to do the same.

“I just need to finish cleaning up a little more…”

“Or you could not do that,” he interrupted.

You let out a small laugh for the first time that day, carefree. You were nervous and exhausted, and Seb knew that perfectly well.

“I just want to make sure everything’s perfect for tomorrow,” you admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“We managed to not kill a hamster with twenty-something kids running around and stopped the paint from getting on the walls, and you’re telling me you want to make sure everything’s perfect for tomorrow?”

“Well… yes,” you answered, looking down and biting your lip.

“That’s pretty adorable, honestly,” Sebastian said. Realizing what he’d just said, and that it might make you uncomfortable, he corrected himself. “I mean, as in your passion for teaching and everything…”

Stop fooling yourself and be honest with her, Sebastian.

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s that, but…” you tried to articulate, your cheeks completely red.

“Well, the thing is: what else can I help you with?” Sebastian asked, unable to stop smiling. The fact that you were embarrassed by something so simple seemed so cute to him that he couldn’t stop looking at you.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, what can I help you with, Y/N?” he repeated slowly.

“Well… the truth is, you don’t have to—”

“I know,” Sebastian interrupted. “But I want to help you.”

You stared at him, unable to respond. You were used to helping people, not being helped yourself, and that left you speechless.

“What’s left to do?” Vettel insisted with care, moving a little closer to you while still keeping his distance.

“If you want, you can put the exams on the desk into the folders beside them,” you finally said, giving up.

“On it, Miss Y/L/N.”

“But really, Sebastian, you don’t have to—”

“If you tell me again you don’t need help, I’ll have to punish you with no recess.”

You burst out laughing, and to Sebastian, it sounded like pure medicine. For the first time that day, you didn’t feel like a total failure.

You worked in complete silence, letting time pass as you finished organizing everything. When you were finally done, you slumped into the chair and started checking your emails, wondering if any parent had decided to make your day even worse by sending a complaint after the day you’d had. To your surprise, there was nothing. What did surprise you, though, was that Seb came in with two cups of hot chocolate and a bag of sweets that, even more surprisingly, were your favorites.

“Here you go,” he said, offering you one of the cups while placing the bag on the table. “You were so focused that I didn’t want to bother you by saying I was leaving. And, well… I also wanted to brighten your day a little.”

You thanked him with a smile and didn’t hesitate to try the chocolate, which tasted like a real victory after such a bittersweet day.

Then, you closed your computer, put it in your bag, and, to your surprise and his, turned your chair to face him.

“What’s going on?” you said, noticing that Seb was looking at you… strangely.

“Nothing. It’s just… you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Sebastian cleared his throat, not knowing what else to say. Instead, he shook his head and set his mind on doing what he had promised himself when he started working there: to try to become friends with you.

“Tell me about Miss Y/L/N’s teaching philosophy,” he finally said.

“Excuse me?” you hesitated.

“Come on, let’s go. I know you have one. You take this job too seriously not to have some kind of ritual or something to make everything go perfectly…”

“Except for today,” you replied.

Seb didn’t say anything because he knew how much you’d keep beating yourself up. Instead, he took a chocolate from the bag he had brought, unwrapped it, and placed it beside you. You finally accepted it without complaint, but with a smile in return.

“Well… I guess I want them to feel safe,” you started to say. “I want them to know that no matter what happens, it’s okay to make mistakes or not be perfect sometimes… I want them to know that I’m here for whatever they need, and that they can be great people in the future.”

“That’s amazing, Y/N,” Seb nodded slowly, unable to take his eyes off you.

“It’s not a big deal…”

“Of course it is,” he replied. “You care a lot, don’t you?”

“More than you can imagine…” you swallowed, feeling a little vulnerable.

“I can see that perfectly, yes.”

“Really?”

“Seb nodded, playing with his mug.”

“You’re always the first one to arrive, and I’d swear the last one to leave. You do the most original activities and, at the same time, try not to die in the process, even though today was the exact opposite,” you both laughed. “You want to be perfect for them and try to give your best.”

“Is that bad?” you asked cautiously, tensing up a little.

“Not at all,” Seb answered immediately. “But sometimes I think you should stop being so hard on yourself and just go with the flow. You know... let things just happen by themselves.”

You were about to answer, but he continued:

“You’re a great teacher, Y/N. You don’t need to prove it to anyone but yourself, okay?”

Something in your chest tightened. You weren’t used to hearing things like that, especially not from your colleagues.

Or maybe you never gave yourself the chance for someone to recognize your well-done work, thinking it had never been, and would never be, enough.

You kept talking to Sebastian about a bit of everything, feeling right at home. The hours passed, and between questions about how you both ended up being teachers, what motivated you to dedicate your life to it, and how you both ended up in Heppenheim, it was already 7 PM.

You glanced at the clock and immediately stood up, quickly starting to gather your things, which made Seb alarmed.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, worried.

“I should go…” you said, grabbing your backpack and slinging it over your shoulder. “I need to catch the bus before it gets too late. It’s the last one of the day and…”

“Wait,” he interrupted you. “You take the bus home?”

“Uh... yeah?”

“This late?”

“I’ve been doing it since I moved here, so it’s nothing new.”

“And no one’s offered to take you home? Not even to share fuel expenses and stuff?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Of course it is,” he replied. “From now on, I’ll take you home.”

Your eyes widened, surprised.

“Sebastian, you really don’t have to…”

“I’m not going to argue with you,” he cut you off, taking your backpack, offering his hand, and leading you out of the classroom, making sure to turn off the lights before you left.

“I don’t want to be a bother…”

“Do you think you’re a bother just because I want to take you home and make sure you arrive safe?” he asked, stopping in the middle of the hallway and still looking at you. “I’d be a terrible friend if I let you go alone on the bus, especially this late with all the drunk creeps around.”

You froze. Friend.

“Come on, let’s go,” Seb spoke again. This time, noticing you were shivering, he wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or from your nervousness, so he decided to put his jacket over your shoulders. “The day you let me help you a little more, we’ll be the best team the world’s ever seen.”

You didn’t say anything else until you reached Sebastian's car. Not even when you sat inside after Seb opened the door for you and turned the heat on full blast.

“Well…” Seb broke the silence as he placed his hands on the steering wheel. “Where to, Y/L/N?”

“You want me to guide you all the way?”

“Do you expect me to guess the way?” Vettel joked. “Y/N, I’ve got balls, but none of them are crystal, so…”

Embarrassed, and especially starting to overthink whether Seb would start judging you not only for your answer but for the entire day you spent together, you simply gave him the directions.

Seb, knowing you might be feeling down and, unlike the whole afternoon when you talked about everything, seeing you retreat into yourself again, started asking you a bit of everything. Why did you decide to move to Heppenheim, such a small town? What was your favorite place? Did you like your neighborhood?

You weren’t used to that flood of questions, and especially not to people showing interest in you. Since you were very young, you always felt left out, like you didn’t belong to any group...

But with Seb, it was different. It was like he actually cared about you, and you couldn’t help but feel incredibly good about it.

“I like the new neighborhood. Quite cozy and nice...”

Seb parked the car in a small free spot in front of the apartment block where you lived. Then, he turned toward you with a smile, placing his arm behind your seat.

“It’s very quiet, which is great when I need to grade or when I just want to read and relax.”

“Oh, are you one of those?” Seb teased.

“One of what?”

“One of those teachers who reads all the time.”

“Seb, we’re teachers,” you were surprised to call him by his nickname so naturally, but you didn’t regret it. “Of course, I read all the time.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but what I mean is, do you read for fun?” he corrected himself. “Do you read those dirty books or the inspirational ones that tell you how to be the perfect teacher?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you hit him on the arm.

“I read for fun.”

“That confirms it, you do read those dirty books where they’re constantly... you know… having sex in the dirtiest ways…”

“They’re called romance novels, Seb,” you corrected him, ignoring his comment. “The last thing I read was a romantic novel, okay? With no sex in it, by the way.”

“I knew you were a hopeless romantic…”

“I don’t know why I even told you anything…” you whispered, hiding your face in your hands.

Seb wanted to reply with something more, to joke around with you, but he knew that for today, it had been enough. What mattered was that you had felt comfortable and, most of all, opened up a little more with him that day.

Silence fell between you both again, but neither of you dared to say anything else. Not even you, who had yawned a couple of times and were dying to get home and get into bed without even having dinner, made the effort to get out of the car.

You didn’t know why you were so hesitant to leave. It was easy: thank Seb, say goodnight, get out of the car, and walk into the building without waiting to see if he drove off. Instead, you decided to stay there, by his side, your hands resting on your legs, feeling safer and, above all, happier than you had in a long time.

Seb didn’t say anything either. Instead, he focused on the streetlights, growing brighter with each passing moment, while his fingers drummed on the leather steering wheel.

Finally, you were the one who decided to take the step, to both your surprise:

“Well... I felt really comfortable today,” you admitted, with a calm voice.

Seb turned toward you suddenly, surprised.

You swallowed nervously, trying not to let the anxiety consume you and, above all, trying to stop the embarrassment from taking over. 

"Well, I was thinking that... we could do this once in a while..."

Sebastian's lips curled into a smirk.

"What, reorganize a class and try not to die in the process? And not killing a hamster?"

"No, I meant...," you hesitated, then looked at him shyly. "I meant… spending time together. Outside of school."

That caught Sebastian off guard, but he couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across his face. He hadn’t expected you to say that, especially not after the chaotic day you'd both had.

"Wait..." he murmured, searching for the right words. "Are you telling me that... you want to spend time together, and not during class hours?"

You felt like you were going to die from embarrassment. Nervous and a little regretful, you weren’t going to back down though. You held your backpack tight, like some kind of protection, while fidgeting nervously in your seat.

"Well... I felt really comfortable today with you, and I thought maybe we could do it again. You know… grab a coffee, go for a walk..."

Sebastian didn't say anything. He just stared at you, unable to recognize the person in front of him, yet delighted that maybe, with a little bit of help from him, you had stepped out of your comfort zone, even if you didn’t seem entirely comfortable.

"Forget what I just said..." you mumbled.

You bit your lip, lowering your gaze, unable to look at him in the face. Sebastian, however, couldn’t have been happier in that moment.

"Not a chance. I like your idea. Actually, I’m more than happy with it."

His voice was calmer now, which gave you the courage to look at him. His blue eyes, which normally made you nervous and stole your words, now made you feel the same, but for an entirely different reason. You felt pressure in your chest, but this time it was nothing like the anxiety or fear of being judged and rejected.

"Hey," Sebastian spoke again, gently taking your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze. "Since, from what I’ve just heard, you don't mind spending time with me..."

"Seb, please, don’t ruin this moment..."

You narrowed your eyes, instinctively leaning toward his lips, and Sebastian didn’t hesitate to close the distance, pressing his lips to yours. At first, it was soft, like you both were making sure that was really happening not just in your minds. When Sebastian felt you sigh against his lips, something in him clicked. His hand, still resting on your chin, slid to your cheek, caressing it tenderly, while his other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as you unbuckled your seatbelt.

You let yourself go, feeling butterflies in your stomach for the first time in a long time, not because you wanted to disappear, but because you felt more alive than ever.

When you finally pulled apart, Sebastian rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.

"Tell me this isn’t a mistake, Seb..." you whispered, still confused about what just happened.

"If it is, I hope you, Miss Perfection, don’t mind."

You laughed nervously, filled with emotions and confusion, but mostly happiness.

"So... what now?" you asked, breathless.

"I love the idea of kissing you in my car like a couple of teenagers, but I think it’s getting too late and we have to get up early tomorrow. So, I have an idea."

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop smiling.

"I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning. How does that sound?"

"What?"

"Tomorrow's Thursday, Y/N. We have to go to class," Sebastian explained, as if you didn’t already know what he meant. "If I pick you up, you won’t have to wake up extra early to catch the bus."

Your heart skipped a beat. Yes, it was a simple offer, nothing extraordinary, but to you, it felt like more... like Sebastian wanted something more with you.

Like you mattered to Sebastian Vettel.

Seb saw the hesitation, the doubt in your eyes. He leaned in gently, and after placing a short but tender kiss on your lips, he spoke again.

"I know I don’t have to do this, but I want to," he assured you.

You swallowed hard.

Sebastian was serious. It wasn’t some bad joke like many other guys had made in the past. He really meant it.

"Okay," was all you could say.

Sebastian’s smile lit up his face.

"Great, princess. I’ll see you at seven-thirty here tomorrow. And I know it’s not necessary, but I have to remind you: please, don’t you dare being late."

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you opened the car door and stepped out, a smile forming on your lips like never before.

Then, you hesitated at the door, but you were ready to, for once in your life, stop trying to be so perfect.

"Goodnight, Seb," you said softly. "And... Thank you. For everything."

"Sleep well, best teacher in the whole world."

You walked toward your building, and when you were inside, you turned around to see if Sebastian had left. To your surprise, he was still there, making sure you had entered safely.

You both waved to each other, and as you climbed the stairs to the fifth floor, you realized that, for the first time, the anxiety about tomorrow wasn’t paralyzing you. 

Instead, it was tomorrow, alongside Sebastian Vettel, what were making you feel alive.

[gyu-tori]

The Great Valentine Heist | C.BG

A PRE-VALENTINE'S DAY SPECIAL

Pairing: highschooler!beomgyu x fem!reader Genre: FLUFF and Comedy

Summary: On Valentine’s Day, Beomgyu hatches a plan to steal a box of chocolates from your locker, sparked by a bit of jealousy. But as his scheme unravels in a whirlwind of chaotic mishaps, including a mix-up with the chocolates and a series of awkward excuses, he’s forced to come clean about his true intentions.

What started as a silly heist ends up revealing more than he bargained for—perhaps even something sweet that wasn’t part of the plan.

Word count: 5.2k

It was the usual chaos at the school courtyard, buzzing with the energy of Valentine’s Day. Students scurried around, exchanging chocolates, roses, and sweet nothings like their lives depended on it. The air was thick with the scent of flowers and the frantic clatter of school bags as the students walked by, some wearing bright smiles, others clinging to their best friends, desperately trying to hide their nerves and uncertainty about whether they would receive anything in return.

Among them, you sat quietly on one of the benches near the school garden, staring blankly at the half-eaten sandwich in your hands. Valentine’s Day wasn’t really your thing. It wasn’t that you hated the holiday; you just didn’t see the point in putting too much stock in it. Besides, you were more than content to go about your day as usual—until Beomgyu showed up, of course.

You were midway through taking a bite when Beomgyu suddenly slid into the seat next to you, all wide eyes and the kind of grin that made it clear he was plotting something. You barely had a chance to glance up before he was already leaning in, getting way too close for comfort, his head tilting as if he were studying you like you were some kind of rare specimen.

“So,” Beomgyu began, his voice light, teasing, “did you get any chocolates today?” He raised an eyebrow as if daring you to answer. “Or are you still too intimidating for anyone to dare?”

You glanced at him from over the edge of your sandwich, the same exasperated look that you always wore when he popped up. You swallowed your food with the grace of someone who had long grown used to Beomgyu’s antics, before responding with a deadpan expression. “Sure, Gyu. I’m just so terrifying that no one’s brave enough to offer me any. That must be it.”

Beomgyu chuckled, shaking his head, the playful gleam in his eyes only sharpening. He leaned back in his seat, arms folded over his chest, and gave you an exaggerated once-over. “Yeah, right. I bet they’re all too scared to talk to you. It’s not like anyone would want to give chocolates to someone as intimidating as you.”

You rolled your eyes again, suppressing the urge to sigh. “If only you knew how much of a relief that is,” you muttered, looking out at the students milling about, most of them caught up in their own holiday dramas. “I’d rather not deal with all the clichés and awkward exchanges.”

“You’re just bitter ‘cause no one gave you any chocolates,” Beomgyu teased, nudging you with his elbow. His tone was mocking, but you could tell there was an underlying hint of something else, something more familiar to you now—an odd mixture of jealousy and competitiveness.

“Sure, that’s exactly it,” you deadpanned, though you couldn’t suppress the ghost of a smirk. “Because I’m so desperate for chocolates, I just can’t stand it.” You leaned back on the bench, unbothered. “Maybe you should try a little harder next time. You know, if you really want to get in the Valentine’s spirit.”

Beomgyu pouted dramatically, a mock-sad expression overtaking his usual cocky grin. “Oh, I try. Trust me. But you don’t know how hard it is when everyone around you is just too blind to see my charm.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. “Right. You’re ‘charming,’ all right.”

Before you could continue the banter, you heard a familiar sigh next to you. Soobin had appeared, his presence immediately making the air feel a little less chaotic. The subtle tension in the air shifted, as if everything in the world was a little more put-together when Soobin was around. He leaned casually against the bench, shaking his head as he looked from Beomgyu to you.

“You’re really doing this again, huh?” Soobin’s voice was laced with fond exasperation, his arms crossing in a way that made it clear he’d heard this exact conversation countless times before.

“Oh, come on, Bin,” Beomgyu grinned, clearly enjoying the attention. “It’s Valentine’s Day. People should know better than to try to resist my charm.” He struck a ridiculous pose, complete with finger guns aimed at an imaginary crowd. “I’m the perfect Valentine’s package.”

Soobin sighed again, a long and deeply audible sigh that seemed to come from the very core of his being. “If only the rest of the school agreed with you.”

“Right? They just don’t understand what they’re missing,” Beomgyu whined dramatically, tilting his head back and pretending to stare at the sky in pure anguish. “It’s so unfair. I’m charming, I’m funny, I have looks, and yet here I am, still single. What more do they want?”

“So, what’s your plan for today then?” Soobin asked, clearly not caring to entertain Beomgyu’s long-winded monologue on how society had failed to recognize his greatness. “You just gonna keep complaining, or are you gonna do something about it?”

“I’ve got a plan,” Beomgyu said, with all the certainty of someone who had no idea what he was about to get himself into. “You’ll see.”

You could feel the familiar sense of dread settle into your chest. Beomgyu’s ‘plans’ were always a disaster waiting to happen, and you had no desire to be dragged into whatever he had in mind. In fact, you were far too busy for his antics. You were preparing a small surprise of your own—a box of chocolates you had carefully made for someone special. It wasn’t much, but it felt meaningful. However, you couldn’t help but doubt that this person would actually accept your gesture. You knew better than to expect much from them.

Before you could lose yourself in your thoughts, Minjeong waved from across the courtyard. You waved back and made your way over to her, your mind still lingering on the chocolates.

“So,” Minjeong said as she joined you, her voice light with curiosity, “how’s the Valentine’s Day prep going?”

You smiled faintly, feeling a small flutter in your chest. “Nothing too big. I’ve got some chocolates ready. For someone special.” You didn’t offer more, letting the words hang in the air. You didn’t need to explain more. Minjeong understood.

Beomgyu, of course, overheard your mention of chocolates, and his eyes immediately lit up like a kid in a candy store. You didn’t need to see him to know he was already planning something. You heard him lean closer to Soobin, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“You’re telling me,” Beomgyu began, practically purring with excitement, “that (Y/N) has chocolates for someone special? This is too good to ignore.” He suddenly sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing with a gleam of mischief. “I think it’s time for... The Great Valentine Heist.”

Soobin’s expression darkened instantly. “The Great Valentine Heist?” he repeated, a note of dread in his voice. “That sounds like it’s going to end in disaster.”

Beomgyu’s grin only widened. “Oh, come on. What’s the worst that could happen?” he said with an exaggerated shrug, the air of a man who thought he had everything under control. “I’m just ‘borrowing’ Y/N’s chocolates for a little while. They’ll never even know.”

Soobin shook his head slowly, as if mentally preparing himself for the inevitable fallout. “This is a terrible idea,” he muttered, though it was clear his protests would go ignored. “You never learn.”

Beomgyu just laughed, all too confident. “Have a little faith in me. When have my plans ever gone wrong?”

Soobin, without missing a beat, began counting on his fingers. “Let’s see... You almost set fire to the science lab during last year’s prank. You sent an entire class’s worth of flowers to the wrong room last month, and don’t even get me started on the dance debacle with the sprinklers.” Soobin shook his head, his voice tinged with a touch of disbelief. “You think this is going to work?”

“Don’t worry, Bin,” Beomgyu called over his shoulder. “It’s The Great Valentine Heist—how could it possibly go wrong?”

Soobin just sighed, resigned to the fact that this would, without a doubt, end terribly.

The day had arrived for Beomgyu’s most ambitious plan yet: The Great Valentine Heist. He was buzzing with excitement, practically bouncing on his heels as he caught sight of Soobin leaning against the lockers, a sigh already escaping his lips.

"Soobin!" Beomgyu called out, his voice filled with that over-the-top enthusiasm he reserved for his most ridiculous schemes. "I need you to help me with something huge today."

Soobin's eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable but full of dread. “What now, Gyu? This can’t possibly be anything good.”

“Relax!” Beomgyu waved his hand dismissively. “This is going to be a piece of cake. Just a little heist I’m planning, that’s all.”

Soobin sighed again, already feeling the weight of Beomgyu's plans crashing down on him. “And what exactly am I supposed to do this time?”

“I need you to be my distraction ninja,” Beomgyu said, leaning in dramatically as if unveiling some grand strategy.

Soobin blinked. “A what?”

“A distraction ninja!” Beomgyu repeated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re going to cause a scene so ridiculous that everyone’s attention will be completely taken off me. I’ll slip in, grab the chocolates, and be out of there before anyone knows what happened.”

Soobin let out a tired groan. “And you want me to do this because… why?”

Beomgyu grinned. “Because, my friend, I need someone who can make the whole school stop and stare. Something loud. Something no one can ignore.”

Soobin raised an eyebrow. “Like, sneeze on purpose?”

“Exactly!” Beomgyu said, clapping his hands together. “Go big or go home!”

“I’m going to regret this,” Soobin muttered under his breath, but he knew there was no getting out of it now.

The plan was set. Beomgyu’s eyes were gleaming with confidence as he prepared to execute what was sure to be a disaster in the making.

As you stood by your locker, carefully sorting through your things, you were completely oblivious to the chaotic scene unfolding around you. But then, you heard it: an over-the-top sneeze that echoed down the hallway.

“ACHOO!”

The sound was exaggerated, like a performance, followed by loud, drawn-out coughing. You paused, your eyes darting toward the sound just in time to see Soobin stumbling into view. His face was contorted into a mock expression of agony, his body lurching as if he were about to collapse any second.

You groaned inwardly but couldn’t help watching as Soobin dramatically lurched forward, clutching his chest. “I’m... dying,” he muttered between over-the-top coughs, his voice rising to an almost theatrical pitch.

You crossed your arms, leaning against your locker with a slight smile tugging at your lips. Soobin’s antics were ridiculous, and yet, you found it hard to ignore. You shook your head, muttering to yourself, “Is this really what he’s come to?”

Meanwhile, Beomgyu had already started his approach. The commotion from Soobin’s dramatic performance had everyone’s attention on him, and the timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

As Soobin continued to act out his fake illness, Beomgyu darted toward your locker with the same sneaky air of someone trying to pull off an elaborate heist. His fingers trembled with anticipation as he fumbled with your locker combination. The adrenaline surged in his veins—he had to hurry before the distraction wore off.

But the lock wouldn’t budge.

His hands fumbled with the combination, his palms sweating. No—he couldn’t mess this up. He had to get the chocolates.

Just as he was about to give up, a student turned the corner and walked right toward him.

Panicking, Beomgyu froze. His mind raced as he thought of a way to cover his tracks. In a split second, he forced a smile, standing tall as though nothing were out of the ordinary.

“Oh, wow, these lockers sure are something,” Beomgyu said loudly, gesturing to the locker in front of him with exaggerated enthusiasm. “The craftsmanship on this model is amazing, don’t you think? You just have to appreciate a good locker.”

The student gave him a confused look but shrugged, continuing on their way, probably questioning Beomgyu’s sanity. Beomgyu let out a quiet sigh of relief before quickly returning to his mission.

After what felt like an eternity of fumbling, Beomgyu finally cracked the code and opened the locker. His eyes darted to the box inside, and he grinned. There it is.

As Soobin’s performance escalated, so did the crowd around him. You were still distracted, your attention fixed on Soobin’s exaggerated antics. Your attention had completely shifted from the contents of your locker to the chaos before you. Soobin was tripping over himself, flailing as if he were on the verge of falling apart.

Then, in a moment of pure absurdity, Soobin’s foot caught on the edge of the hallway’s floor tiles, sending him face-first toward the ground.

You gasped, rushing forward to check if he was okay. “Soobin!” you exclaimed, crouching beside him.

“Ugh... I’m fine...” he groaned, pulling himself up, though his face was now an unflattering shade of red from the sudden fall.

You shook your head, trying not to laugh as you helped him up. “Really, Soobin? You should’ve just sneezed like you were supposed to—”

But before you could finish, you noticed that the chaos around you had died down, and Beomgyu, now holding the box, was walking away.

You couldn’t help but give Soobin a look. “This is exactly why I stay away from you two. I can’t even focus on my own locker when you’re causing a scene like this.”

Soobin grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, totally not a scene, right?”

Meanwhile, Beomgyu, having gotten away with what he thought was a flawless heist, turned to Soobin with a triumphant grin.

“Hey, good acting, my guy. You really sold it out there.”

Soobin, still rubbing his nose from the fall, plastered a grin on his face. “Haha, totally was acting…”

Beomgyu paused, staring at Soobin for a moment. “Wait, what...?” His eyes narrowed as he noticed something that had escaped him before. "Dude, your nose is bleeding!"

Soobin’s grin faltered as he instinctively wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Oh... that’s not good, is it?” he muttered, his voice tinged with the realization that his “acting” might have been a little too realistic.

Beomgyu, now fully realizing that the situation was a bit more chaotic than he’d anticipated, gave a loud, exasperated groan. “You’re really going to make this difficult for me, aren’t you, Bin?”

The day was going fine until you caught sight of Beomgyu and Soobin acting weird—really weird. Beomgyu was standing with his hands awkwardly shoved into his pockets, his eyes darting from side to side as if trying to avoid looking too suspicious. Soobin, for his part, had his arms crossed, but his usual calm demeanor was noticeably absent. He kept glancing over at Beomgyu, who was clearly sweating bullets.

You raised an eyebrow as you walked toward them. “What’s going on with you two? You’re acting like you’ve just been caught red-handed.”

Beomgyu froze, his mouth opening and closing in a clear attempt to come up with a believable excuse. After a moment of awkward silence, he blurted, “Uh... locker security inspections. Yeah. You know, just making sure everyone’s lockers are secure. It’s, uh, an important job. Can’t leave it to anyone else, right?”

You stared at him for a second, clearly not buying it. You crossed your arms and gave him a pointed look. “Really? Locker security?”

Soobin smirked slightly but didn’t say anything, choosing to let Beomgyu sweat it out. You could already tell something was off.

“Uh-huh,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, whatever. I don’t have time to question your important work. Carry on.”

You left them to their questionable business, still not entirely convinced but deciding to let it slide for now. You turned around and headed to your next class.

Meanwhile, the chaos had only just begun.

Kai was standing in front of his locker, his brows furrowed in confusion as he sifted through his things. After a moment, he slammed the door shut with a frustrated grunt and started walking around the hallway, asking anyone who would listen.

“Has anyone seen my chocolates? I swear I left them right here. They’re nowhere to be found!” Kai’s voice rang out, drawing the attention of a few nearby students.

Beomgyu froze when he overheard the frantic questioning. His heart skipped a beat, and a cold sweat began to form on his forehead. He’d been so caught up in the heist that he hadn’t even realized his mistake.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Beomgyu muttered under his breath, panic starting to creep into his voice.

Soobin, who had been watching the whole thing unfold, couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Congratulations, my friend,” Soobin said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve officially upgraded from prankster to thief.”

Beomgyu shot him an exasperated look, his anxiety mounting. “I’m not a thief, Soobin! I was just—well, it wasn’t supposed to go this far…”

Soobin laughed louder, clearly enjoying Beomgyu’s misery. “Yeah, sure. Just borrowin’ them for a bit.”

“Shut up,” Beomgyu muttered, his mind racing for a way to fix this disaster. He had to get the chocolates back to Kai before anyone else found out.

Beomgyu and Soobin hastily came up with a plan to sneak the chocolates back into Kai’s locker, but, as expected, it didn’t go smoothly.

“Alright, we’ve got this,” Beomgyu said, his voice filled with forced confidence as they approached Kai’s locker. “We just have to slip them in when no one’s looking.”

Soobin rolled his eyes. “You sure about that? Because last time you ‘just had to slip something in,’ it didn’t exactly go according to plan.”

Beomgyu shot him a glare. “Not helping, Bin.”

They crouched near Kai’s locker, trying to look casual. Soobin slowly reached into his pocket to pull out the chocolates, but, in a comical turn of events, his fingers slipped, and the box went tumbling to the ground.

It hit the floor with a loud thud, bouncing once before it rolled straight toward the edge of the stairwell.

“Oh no,” Beomgyu groaned in horror. “Not again.”

Before Soobin could react, the box plummeted down the stairs, bouncing all the way to the bottom.

“I’ll go get it!” Beomgyu shouted, immediately bolting toward the stairs, his legs moving faster than his brain. He was halfway down before he realized what he was doing. Of course this would happen.

But just as Beomgyu reached the bottom of the stairs, he looked up to see a figure emerging from the hallway—Kai. Kai, who was still asking around about his missing chocolates, had somehow found his way to the same stairwell. Beomgyu’s heart raced in panic.

Trying to salvage the situation, Beomgyu immediately froze mid-run, twisting his body into an awkward, exaggerated pose. He spread his arms wide as if trying to demonstrate some kind of parkour move, landing with an overly dramatic flourish.

“Oh, hey, Kai! Just, uh, practicing some parkour,” Beomgyu said, his voice forced as he tried to act casual, even though his face was already beet red from the sheer awkwardness of it all.

Kai blinked, clearly thrown off by Beomgyu’s strange behavior, but after a brief pause, he gave a stiff nod. “Uh... alright, sure. Parkour… looks good, Beomgyu,” Kai said with a nervous laugh before quickly turning to walk away.

Beomgyu let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding, his body still in that awkward position. “Parkour...” he muttered to himself, still trying to act like he hadn’t just made a fool of himself.

Once he was sure Kai was gone, Beomgyu quickly snatched the box from the floor and stuffed it into the front of his hoodie, hoping no one would notice.

Just as Beomgyu was about to stand up, feeling a brief moment of relief, you appeared in front of him, your arms crossed and a confused look on your face.

“Beomgyu… Why do you look like a lumpy kangaroo?”

Beomgyu froze, his eyes wide in panic as you stared at him, clearly noticing the suspicious bulge in his hoodie.

“What? No!” Beomgyu stammered, trying to adjust his hoodie in a way that didn’t make it look even more suspicious. “It’s just, uh, I’m carrying some books... you know, heavy books.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “Uh-huh. Definitely looks like books.”

“Yep, books!” Beomgyu said with a nervous laugh, his hand awkwardly patting the bulge in his hoodie.

You tilted your head, still not buying his excuse. “Right. Well, I’ll leave you to it then, Kangaroo Beomgyu.”

With that, you walked away, leaving Beomgyu to stand there, cursing his luck. Soobin, watching the entire interaction from a distance, couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“Smooth, Beomgyu. Real smooth,” Soobin called out, his voice full of mockery.

Beomgyu just groaned in defeat, mentally preparing for the rest of his disastrous day.

You had been keeping an eye on Beomgyu all day, watching him with increasing suspicion as he passed your locker with strange frequency. At first, you thought it was just a coincidence, but after the third time, you were certain something was off.

Beomgyu had been acting a little too... flustered. He kept glancing your way, and you caught him avoiding your gaze whenever you walked by. His usual carefree demeanor had been replaced by an almost comical nervous energy. It didn't take long for you to put two and two together: he was up to something.

You had no idea what that something was, but you were determined to find out.

By the time lunch ended, you had a plan. You'd wait until Beomgyu made his move, and when he did, you'd corner him. You just had to make sure you caught him in the act.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period, you spotted Beomgyu sneaking past your locker once again, his eyes darting around to make sure no one was watching. You knew it was now or never.

You quickly approached, stepping in front of him to block his path. Beomgyu froze, his eyes widening as he took an awkward step back.

“Beomgyu,” you said, crossing your arms, “What are you up to?”

Beomgyu looked at you like a deer caught in the headlights. “Uh—uh, nothing! Just heading to class!” he stammered, his voice higher than usual.

You raised an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. “Really? You’ve been acting weird all day. What’s going on?”

He looked around, his body stiffening as if preparing for an escape. “I... uh... I’m just... checking on something... very important. Locker security!” His eyes widened as though he was suddenly convinced this was a plausible excuse.

“Locker security?” You blinked. “Beomgyu, what do you mean by ‘locker security’?”

Beomgyu tried to laugh it off. “Yeah, you know! Just making sure no one’s... tampering with lockers, or... or stealing anything, you know? Like chocolates.”

You raised an eyebrow again, clearly unconvinced. “Chocolates? Beomgyu, do you honestly think I’m buying that?”

He flustered, his voice trembling. “I mean, uh... yeah! Locker safety is really important, okay? Especially for Valentine’s chocolates! They’re... uh... high-risk items!”

You squinted at him suspiciously. “And why does that sound like a terrible excuse?”

He opened his mouth, trying to come up with something better, but nothing came out. You had him cornered, and he knew it.

“Okay, okay! Fine, you caught me!” Beomgyu blurted, a little too loudly. “I... I may have borrowed someone’s chocolates. Just for a second! You know, to... uh, check them over, make sure they’re in perfect condition for delivery!”

You stared at him, your mind racing. “Wait... borrowed someone’s chocolates? Who?”

Beomgyu’s eyes darted nervously. “Uh... well, I thought it might be poisoned! I—uh—didn’t want the owner of the chocolates to get hurt, so I... I took them for a bit. You know, to make sure they were safe.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed. “Poisoned?” You shook your head, not sure whether to be annoyed or impressed by the sheer absurdity of his excuse. “Really? You think someone is poisoning chocolates in a school locker?”

Beomgyu nodded earnestly, clearly trying to sell the lie. “Yeah! You can never be too careful with these things, right? I was just... looking out for the owner’s safety!”

Before you could respond, you noticed something—Beomgyu was holding a box of chocolates wrapped in dark red paper. You’d seen that box before. In fact, you knew whose it was.

Kai’s.

You stared at him, realization dawning. “That’s Kai’s chocolates,” you said slowly, your voice flat. “What are you doing with them?”

Beomgyu froze, his face pale. “Uh... Kai’s chocolates... I didn’t steal them, it wasn’t me! I... uh... I was just... returning them!”

You raised an eyebrow. “Returning them?”

“Yes! Exactly! I just thought... Well, uh, I was just being a good Samaritan!” Beomgyu smiled awkwardly, but his charm wasn’t working this time.

Just as you were about to respond, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Hey! I’ve been looking for those!” Kai said, walking toward you with a confused expression. “Where did my chocolates go?”

You and Beomgyu both turned to look at him. Beomgyu looked like he had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Kai! Hey, uh, these... these are yours?” Beomgyu asked weakly, trying to act nonchalant as he awkwardly held the box out to Kai.

“Yeah, those are mine,” Kai said, raising an eyebrow. “But... why do you have them?”

Beomgyu gulped. “I... I was just—uh... you know, checking them out! Making sure they’re... uh... still good? It’s a... safety measure!”

Kai glanced at you, clearly trying to piece everything together. “Okay, I’m not really following. Why do you have them, Beomgyu?”

Beomgyu’s face flushed red as he tried to come up with an excuse, but before he could speak, you interrupted. “Wait a second. I get it now. You’ve been after my chocolates the whole time, haven’t you?”

Beomgyu’s eyes widened in shock. “What? No! I was just—”

“Admit it, Gyu,” you interrupted, your voice soft but firm. “You thought these were mine, and you took them because you didn’t want me giving them to someone else.”

Beomgyu froze. He opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out. The guilt on his face was obvious.

You let out a deep sigh, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Okay, okay, I admit it!” Beomgyu finally blurted, his voice frantic. “I took the chocolates because I didn’t want you to give them to anyone else, okay? I didn’t know how to tell you! I just—ugh, I didn’t want to see you giving them to someone else!”

Kai chuckled behind him. “Well, now this is getting interesting.”

You stood there, shocked by his confession. “Gyu... I made those chocolates for someone special,” you said softly, letting the words sink in.

Beomgyu’s eyes widened as the realization hit him. “Wait... what? Then... who...?”

You pulled a second box of chocolates from your bag, the real ones—the ones you’d made just for him—and held them out to him. “I made them for you, you dummy” you said softly.

For a moment, Beomgyu stood there, completely speechless. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. He stared at the box in your hand as though it might disappear any second.

“You made them for me?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You smiled, nodding. “Yeah. I figured you might need a little extra push to admit how you felt.”

Beomgyu’s eyes softened, and slowly, a wide grin spread across his face. “I... I can’t believe you’d do that for me.”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Well, someone had to keep you on your toes.”

Beomgyu took the chocolates from you, his hands shaking slightly as he held them. “I... I don’t deserve these,” he muttered, almost to himself. “I just... made everything worse.”

You gave him a teasing grin. “It’s okay, Beomgyu. You were just a little jealous. But I’m glad you figured it out.”

He looked up at you, his usual confidence flickering back into his eyes, although there was still a hint of nervousness. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, still holding the chocolates. “Next time, I’ll just steal your heart instead.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hold back your smile. “Good luck with that, Beomgyu.”

“So,” Kai interrupted, leaning in with a smirk, “When’s the wedding?”

You shot him a glare, but inside, you couldn’t help the warmth that spread through you. Maybe this chaotic Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all.

After the chaos settled down and Beomgyu was left to deal with the teasing, Soobin and Kai found a quiet spot near the school courtyard, watching the scene unfold in front of them. Beomgyu, still holding the box of chocolates, was getting playfully scolded by you. He looked embarrassed but happy at the same time—quite the rare sight.

Soobin crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on Beomgyu. “Why do I let him talk me into these things?” he muttered, shaking his head.

Kai, who had been smirking the entire time, glanced at Soobin. “Because you secretly love it,” he teased, giving his friend a knowing look.

Soobin shot him a look of disbelief. “No. I just don’t want him to cause more damage.”

Kai chuckled, nodding in agreement as they both watched Beomgyu finally get a teasing shove from you. “Yeah, it’s probably the best you can do, trying to keep him out of trouble.”

The two of them exchanged a look, clearly rooting for you and Beomgyu to get together. Soobin sighed, but there was a subtle smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I swear, this guy never learns.”

“So,” Soobin continued, glancing over at Kai with curiosity, “Who are you giving those chocolates to?”

Kai raised an eyebrow, the mischievous glint never leaving his eyes. “Oh, no one,” he said casually. “I bought them for myself at the 7-Eleven in front of the school. They were on sale, so why not?”

Soobin stared at him, unamused. “Then why the hell were you looking for it like a mad man earlier?”

Kai shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “Hey! I’m not letting my money go to waste.”

Soobin shook his head, but a laugh escaped him anyway. “You're unbelievable.”

Kai just grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Hey, it’s all about the deals, my friend. Want some”

Soobin rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms, turning his attention back to Beomgyu. "I still can’t believe the two get along so well," he muttered. "The chaos is real."

Kai snickered, glancing over at Beomgyu again. "They’re a match made in disaster. Honestly, I’m just here for the drama.”

Soobin sighed again, but there was no hiding the amusement in his expression now. "I can’t believe I’m actually looking forward to seeing how this mess turns out."

Kai grinned even wider. "I think it’s about to get interesting."

And so, despite all the chaos, The Great Valentine Heist was, in its own twisted way, a success. Beomgyu got the chocolates he’d been after (well, sort of), you finally got to admit your feelings, and even Soobin and Kai found themselves oddly satisfied with the results. After all, what’s a little mayhem between friends? Maybe, just maybe, there was something sweet to be found in all the madness.

© all rights reserved ─ @gyu-tori 2025

Rei's Notes ✎: Surprise!! Here's a fic for you guys to enjoy to start of february~ This was supposed to be posted ON valentine's but decided against it to make space for the collab so you'll get it early. Celebrating the start of February. No angst today since this month is all about love and sweet stuff, so I'll spare your tears for once (maybe saving them for the collab). Luv y'all!!

Taglist: @yunverie @dawngyu @hueningstar @hhoneyhan @immelissaaa @lovingbeomgyudayone @xylatox @i-like-to-read-at-4am @imlonelydontsendhelp

[lgbtlunaverse]

Fandom is so nice to Jiang Cheng's inferiority complex because in reality every single thing he gets accused of is something Wei Wuxian is better at than him.

Jiang Cheng killed Wei Wuxian? Nope. Didn't even get close. Wei Wuxian's own spirits tore him apart before jc could even get there. wwx:1 jc:0

Jiang Cheng tortures people? We get two and a half rumours and a mention from jin ling that jc has 'captured' demonic cultivators before, but who is also apparently confident that just letting wwx run off will kill the issue even though those earlier rumours said ~no one who sandu shengshou captured was ever seen again~

The word jiang cheng uses when he tries to talk big game about 'beating the truth' out of Wei Wuxian's is a word that carries the context of pestering someone to do their homework. Doesn't exactly strike fear into my heart.

Wei Wuxian? Excellent at torture. A prodigy. Did you fucking see what he did to Wen Chao? Dude didn't have fingers anymore because wei wuxian made him eat them. He ripped out his hair, burned his skin off, and then stalked him for several days just to prolong the pain. He forced Wang Lingjiao to bite Wen Chao's dick off and then made her shove a stool leg down her own throat! 10/10, no notes. Absolutely horrifying.

Meanwhile Jiang Cheng's idea of torture is getting a dog to bark at Wei Wuxian for a few seconds. Weak, unoriginal, I bet fairy was literally wagging her tail the whole time. 2-0

Jiang Cheng made the entire cultivation world believe Wei Wuxian was up to no good on the burial mounds and ultimately orchestrated his downfall? lol. lmao, even

It's a big thing in certain corners of the fandom to really zoom in one one particular phrase at the end of chapter 73, where after wwx and jc have their staged duel to make the world believe they hate each other jiang cheng tells everyone wwx has defected and become "a public enemy'' or "an enemy to the cultivation world" or whatever the translation you're familiar with decided upon.

(As an aside, something I really like about this line is that the last half of it is almost exactly the same, like verbatim, as what wwx told him to say. like, the chapter is really hammering home just how much jc is speaking from a script here. wwx tells jc to say "今后魏无羡无论做出什么事，都与云梦江氏无关." and jc says "今后无论此人有何动作，一概与云梦江氏无关" the only meaningful difference is that he says 'this person' instead of wwx's name)

I've seen it said that this bit, the use of 'enemy' was said without wei wuxian's approval, that jc deviated from the script just to hurt his ex-shixiong for leaving him. And that this is what caused all the other clans to turn against wei wuxian. Regardless of if this is what jc and wwx discussed, or if jc had malicious motivations for it (considering my conclusions above, you can guess where i fall) it doesn't really matter, because the novel tells us when the clans completely freak out and become convinced wei wuxian is out to get them (though of course they've been wringing their hands about it since the literal day wwx ran off with the wen, months before jiang cheng visited) very neatly in chapter 75!

It's when they find out about Wen Ning.

And how do they find out about Wen Ning?

Because Wei Wuxian took him on nighthunts! And they kicked ass!

...Wei Wuxian, my man, why are you on nighthunts??? Why are you showing off your incredibly cool sentient fierce corpse buddy, who is way better and stronger than all the other fierce corpses, in front of the whole cultivation world??

Whatever his motivations (extra money, maybe?? they were strapped for crash) I can only draw the conclusion wwx had already given up on appearing calm or non-threatening and didn't care if the clans thought he was a threat, because they'd believe whatever they wanted anyway. Which he seems to clearly be aware of the whole time.

Regardless, we know that this is what created the myth of the Yiling patriarch. It's literally when the title first shows up!

Even if you really believe jc was secretly plotting against wwx in chapter 73, he's clearly doing a shit job of it because nothing he said made anywhere near as big an impact as this. Flopped!

The other point people use to argue Jiang Cheng caused wei wuxian's downfall is Jin Guangyao's speech in Guanyin temple about how jiang cheng could have saved wei wuxian if only he stood by him. Setting aside that jin guangyao is trying to get into jiang cheng's head here, and isn't necessarily saying what he really believes (though it very well might be! who knows with a character like jgy. assuming he's always lying is just as misleading as assuming he's always saying the truth) the fact is, if you read the speech closely, what he's talking about is not the 'public enemy' line, he's talking about the bond between them. The fact that people wanted wei wuxian out of yunmeng jiang, because the two were too powerful together.

He's talking about that one time Jiang Cheng very publically kicked wei wuxian out of the sect!

Which, unbeknownst to Jin Guangyao, was in fact Wei Wuxian's idea the whole time.

final score: 3 for you wei wuxian, you go wei wuxian! And nothing for Jiang Cheng bye.

[rogueddie]

Steve nearly winces when he steps into the room, following behind Dustin and Mike. He's already wishing he'd tried to shut Lucas up as soon as he'd tried to say that "no, really, I don't mind!"

Because of course he's this unlucky. Of course his date would skip out almost last minute, of course he'd end up with no excuse to avoid helping Dustin with his stupid D&D game and of course the person who probably hates Steve most is crouched on the biggest chair like it's a throne.

Eddie Munson eyes lock on him immediately. He stares for a while, making Dustin and Mike shift awkwardly beside him.

"Absolutely not. No way." He's grinning though. His eyes narrow slightly at Steve, like he's daring him to do something.

"You asked for a sub, we delivered."

Steve simply raises an eyebrow, pointedly shifting the sheets Dustin had helped him make up. It draws Eddies attention off his face, finally. When he looks back up, he's smiling a little more genuinely.

The guys standing at his sides are still glaring, looking almost cruelly excited when Eddie stands up, meandering his way over to them.

He gently plucks the sheet out Steves hand, eyebrows slowly raising as he reads.

Everyone is waiting, eyeing Eddie impatiently. Dustin and Mike are tense, as though waiting for Eddie to blow up. The others seem to expect the same, though Steve imagines they're more excited for it.

"Why did you come?" Eddie eventually asks, still holding onto the character sheet. "What could possibly be so important about this that King Steve would miss the championship game?"

"Dustin said this one was important," Steve shrugs. Fights to keep his calm demeaner. "Something about it being the last one or something. He's been going on about this shit forever. Seemed cruel to leave him high and dry at the last leg."

"Well…" Eddie eyes the character sheet before handing it back. Looks Steve up and down, before finally grinning. His eyes crinkle at the edges. "Welcome to Hellfire, Lady Elora."

He sticks his hand out. Steve shakes it, trying not to grin back.

Even with how often Dustin has talked to him about the game, Steve is clueless. Dustin and Mike both save him from embarressment every time though, quick to argue different options in such a pointed way that he knows the others aren't fooled by.

But Steve doesn't mind, often finds himself rolling his eyes at their antics only to find Eddie eyeing him almost fondly.

He finds that he enjoys it though. He'd make the character Elora as a joke, mostly just throwing whatever seemed to fit at random. An Elf who's a ranger, chaotic neutral, swinging around a bat with nails.

He wonders if it sounds as stupid to everyone else as it does to him.

He's often lost on the story too. But Eddie is brilliant at telling it. Even when he doesn't understand what he means, he flinches when the others yell at a reveal. Anxiety bubbling up when things get tense, slowly getting more and more invested in the game. Even he can tell that they're nearing the end, the final fight.

"You're scared, you're tired, you are injured," Eddie says. "Do you flee Vecna and his cultists? Or do you stand your ground and fight?"

Steve already knows the answer before Dustin speaks up; "I say we fight. To the death!"

"To the death," Mike echoes, nodding.

"To the death." Steve sniffs, doesn't bother fighting the grin.

Eddie grins back at him, the others chanting the sentiment. Steve feels warm with his attention locked on him.

Steve has the first roll. He still doesn't understand the numbers, but the others cheer so he assumes it must be good. But then it goes downhill, so many bad rolls.

Everyone is too hyped up for Steve to keep up so he focuses on Eddie. He's jeering, jumping up out of his seat, encouraging the chaos and seeming to control the energy of the room. When he laughs, he sounds more like a movie villain.

And then, one of them calls time out.

They huddle into a circle, just like they did in basketball. Steve is surprised by how easily two of the older boys pull him in.

"Guys, I hate to say this but we have got to flee."

"I concur."

"Didn't we just agree 'to the death'?" Steve frowns. He's not ready to give up yet. He can feel how close they are.

"That wasn't literal!"

A hand tightens on his shoulder. "Vecna just decimated us. We can't kill him with two players."

"You too?" Dustin sounds just as annoyed as Steve feels. "Vecna only has 15 more hit points left, don't be pussies!"

"Pussies? Really? Cause we're not delusional?"

"No, no, Dustins right," Steve butts in. Barely holds back a warning to Dustin about his language; it's not the time for babysitting. "We're too close now, we can't give up!"

"HEY!" Eddie calls, easily drawing all their attention back to him. "If I may interject, gentleman… whilst I respect the passion, you'd be wise to take Garreth the Greats concern to heart. There is no shame in running. Don't try to be heroes. Not today."

Something about his smirk and stupid head tilt just makes Steve more determined. If he has to continue fighting this stupid game alone, god dammit, he will.

Steve only half pays attention to Mike talking strategy. He's already made up his mind.

"What do you say, Elora?" Dustin turns to him, looking uncertain.

"We can kill him." Steve sounds more sure than he probably has any right to be. But he is. He can feel it in his bones. They can win.

"Fuck yeah we can," he grins at Steve. The others look more uncertain. Dustin turns back to Eddie, shoulders back, chin up and looking almost proud. "Let's kill this son of a bitch!"

Dustin gets first roll and it's bad.

It's all down to Steve.

He can feel how tense everyone is. Dustin and Gareth start yelling when he takes to long. But he can't roll yet, follows his gut; he has to get this right, has to roll at the right time.

It's just like swinging a bat in baseball, he tells himself. Just gotta time it right…

He rolls.

The dice seems to move in slow motion. Steve can almost hear each time it bounces off the board. The tension is so thick that it almost chokes him, for a moment he's sure that he can't breath.

20.

There's a moment where no one reacts. Then Dustin yells, grabbing Steves arm and shaking him in his excitement. Mike, a more similar height, throws his arms around his shoulders. It's a little painful to have him shouting directly in his ear but, he too, is too excited to care.

The others have started yelling too, Eddie dramatically overacting his shock too. Steve can't help but laugh.

It takes a while for everyone to calm down. An even longer moment to stop talking enough so they can start packing their things up. Steve only brought his jacket and character sheet, so he stays stood at the end of the table to wait for the kids.

Eddie keeps glancing up at him as he packs most of the pieces away.

"Harrington," Grant grins at him. "Never thought I'd be saying this but... thanks for coming."

"Oh, uh, yeah, no problem," Steve tries to smile.

"Dude, you missed the championship game to save our asses in DnD," Gareth grins, throwing his arm over his shoulder. "Who woulda thought, though. Steve Harrington, huh?"

The other two laugh. Steve finally feels a little lighter, on safer ground.

"How the mighty have fallen, huh?" Steve tries. And they laugh, Jeff slapping him on the back.

At the doorway, he lingers for a moment, whilst everyone else starts heading down the hall.

"Thanks for letting me play," Steve says, turning to Eddie. "I know I'm not... uh..."

"Don't strain yourself," Eddie waves him off. "It's fine. The kids have raved about you enough for me to figure out that you're a good dude."

"Oh. Thanks."

"You should join their next campaign."

"I don't know. You're graduating, right?"

"Aww, you like me that much, big boy?" He puts a hand to his chest, batting his eyelashes.

But Steve remembers the rumors that went around, remembers exactly how true they were proven to be. And, well...

"What would you say if I am?" He fires back.

Eddie, true to his reputation, is never one to back down from a fight; "then I'd tell you to ask me out like you mean it."

"Alright. If you're free tomorrow, 8pm, would you wanna go on a date? With me?"

"You picking me up in your fancy car?"

"If you want."

"Yeah, I'm free."

"So... that's a yes?"

"Yes, that's a yes."

Steve can't help but fistpump, but it makes Eddie giggle, so he counts it as a win.

[melancoley]

WHAT MOVES THE WORLD

SYNOPSIS: when you’re born into a burning house, you think the entire world is on fire – that was kakashi’s reality. always surrounded by fragments of war, kakashi grew up with only the purpose of surviving beating in his heart. for him, nothing else existed in the world but war – that was kakashi’s philosophy. until you showed up. and, like spring, you came with the promise of hope and warmth and ended up bringing an inevitable change that would forever alter the life, and heart, of hatake kakashi.

PAIRING: hatake kakashi x gn!reader WORD COUNT: 5.811.

TAGS: soulmate!au, strangers to lover(s), fast-paced, unrequited love, kinda miscommunication. angst, fluff, hurt/no-comfort. CONTENT: gloomy kid kakashi. confused young-adult kakashi. heartbroken adult kakashi. shinobi reader. you are full of life & love talking to kakashi. conversations about stars, wars & love. he is the captain of your team one time.

WARNINGS: mention of sakumo's death but nothing explicit. you are going to break kakashi's heart, so be ready.

COLE'S NOTE: hiii, miss me? ♡ so !! this fic was originally a request and i posted this on my previous blog - if it sounds familiar, maybe u read the old version: ‘war & love’. i did some changes here and there to turn ur reading more pleasant and i hope i did a good job lol also !!! chou made one fanart based on this fic - i suggest u check it out after reading this, it's really pretty, u gonna love it !! ♡ have fun breaking hearts ♡

Not all stories are happy.

Not all soulmates are reciprocal.

Not all people could change their destiny.

Of course, in a perfect world, one person’s soulmate would also be another person’s soulmate. But reality went far beyond fairy tales and, as such, not all soulmates were mutual – and a person only knew their destiny when it was too late.

For years, people woke up with words tattooed on their wrists. They were simple, small words, just for the purpose of summarizing people’s love lives with their true love.

There were the luckier ones who woke up with little ‘fulfilled’ or ‘happily ever after’ on their wrists after their wedding. There were also those who had little ‘close call’ or ‘don’t try again’ written on their wrists on the coldest nights. And there were also those that read painfully ‘not destined’ or even ‘maybe in a next life’ that caused an inexplicable burning in the eyes of those who received such words. There were those who liked it, there were those who didn’t mind a mere tattoo and there were also those who did everything to force a soulmate into their lives.

The reality is that a person’s tattoo was already inscribed on them from the moment their soul found a body, always wanting to arrive at the right time to make itself noticed. And that was why no one could change their destiny.

But none of that matter. None of that mattered one bit to Kakashi. Because he only had one thing in mind: becoming strong and reliable. Kakashi didn’t care about dating or romance. Kakashi just wanted to do his duty as a shinobi.

But, of course, no matter how much he didn’t want to know, no matter how much he showed he didn’t want to know, his father was always attentive to him, always wanting to make him even minimally interested in the subject. After all, parents only wanted the best for their children.

And that was why Sakumo forced Kakashi to sit next to him on that cold, foggy morning.

“Kakashi, there is beauty in the midst of all this chaos.”

Sakumo’s voice was lost amid the fog, a phrase of pure harmony and delicacy trying to find its way in the thick maze of clouds and trees that invaded the territory.

There was a pause.

Kakashi didn’t deign to respond – he knew perfectly well where this conversation would end, he knew perfectly well what awaited him.

“The world is not driven by war alone.”

“Dad…”

Kakashi let a long and monotonous sigh escape his small lips, muffled by the dark mask, trapped inside the fabric without being able to show his total dissatisfaction.

“Not again. I have class in a bit.”

Kakashi stood up carefully and a little hesitantly. The truth is he didn’t want to leave his father alone. Kakashi didn’t want to abandon him once again at the mercy of fairy tales that did nothing but deceive a person.

However, Sakumo gave him no other choice. The cheap repetition of stories and princesses and kings became tiring – there was no longer any surprise in his father’s speech, there was no longer any hope for Kakashi.

As such, he was determined to abandon his father sooner than expected, his little feet taking short, uncertain steps to get away from his father, to get away from yet another unwanted conversation.

“Kakashi, why do you think there is war?”

Kakashi stopped his step with some abruptness.

That simple question from Sakumo echoed strongly inside Kakashi’s head, causing small dizziness in his mind where several possible answers appeared without any invitation, assaulting the little child’s sanity, making him question everything.

Why does war exist?

Of course, the main answer focused on people’s inability to be able to communicate with each other. There was also that need to come out and show their disgusting egos – that is the second answer to that question.

But there was something more.

There had to be something more.

People didn’t start wars just because they were bored.

…

Right?

Throughout his small and short existence, Kakashi has lived in a world of war and from an early age he was trained and taught to live and survive amidst so much devastation and anguish. Kakashi’s entire existence was shaped around the thick and aggressive sphere of what moved the world – war.

Would he have to know why?

In reality, Kakashi didn’t care if someone wanted to conquer the world, or if someone was kidnapped or killed unleashing days and months and years of pure destruction. Kakashi only had the mission to fight the war – that was all that mattered. Now the reason?

“I don’t care. Certainly the origin of all wars has an illogical basis. I have to stop the war. I don’t need to know why it started.”

Sakumo smiled and let his son go on his way, slowly losing sight of him as he began to be consumed by the fog.

Sakumo’s lips formed a perfect smile, a smile that left a trail of sadness with it because he knew perfectly well what was going to happen that day – Sakumo couldn’t really smile, not when he knew the end was near.

But there was something else hidden in his smile.

No matter how loud the voices screamed in his mind, the reality was that Sakumo feared for his son. Sakumo feared that Kakashi would never experience the beautiful pleasures of love as he himself had once experienced.

And there was nothing to do. There was nothing to do when Kakashi only focused on the human intellect. There was nothing to do when Kakashi purposely denied all the emotions that moved the world. There was simply nothing to do.

And Sakumo kept smiling.

His cold fingers gently stroked a small ‘there will be more in the next life’ that was fading due to the passage of time.

Several memories of a short and intense love began to haunt him in such a way that Sakumo didn’t even notice when the sadness on his lips turned into hope.

That hadn’t been the last life with his beloved – Sakumo knew that.

Then, muttering the answer to the question he himself asked his son, Sakumo stood up as well.

He knew perfectly well that there would be a second chance for his love. He knew perfectly well that Kakashi would realize the reality of the world they lived in. He knew perfectly well that everything would end well.

After all, there has never been a war without love.

Kakashi had lost everything.

There was nothing left for someone so young.

At fourteen, Kakashi’s entire life fell apart before his own eyes. Without family or friends, without anyone who could support him, he had lost everything – including his way in this world. Kakashi was wandering through the days, lost on the path of life, with no knowledge of maps or no guides that could help him.

Kakashi had lost everything, until he gained a new friendship, a new hope.

You appeared with the arrival of spring. Uncertain and always encouraging steps, an enormous desire for knowledge to be noticed in the intense shine of your sweet eyes, and wide smiles enchanting anyone.

You brought with you the breath of fresh air that prevailed at that time of year. Your feet encouraged so many beautiful flowers to bloom, new lives were created by you, new paths were drawn by your bare feet. The innocence of someone who had not yet experienced the evils of the world painted your smile with an extra tenderness that gave your cheekbones small splashes of the passion that the sun felt for you.

That spring day, when Kakashi saw you leaning over a hollow log, you carried something more than pure curiosity and amusement in your fingertips. You brought with you the hope of a new life for Kakashi, a hope that was felt by him when he, very clumsily, stopped you from rolling with the log to the bottom of the cliff.

Quickly, like someone blowing a leaf, something formed between you. A friendship? Probably. It was hard to be sure with Kakashi. But whatever you and he shared, you both knew it was something unique, something true.

A new stage in both of your lives was discovered in the other’s presence, a vast and longing wave of feelings beginning to form in you.

There was complicity between the both of you.

Since your first meeting next to that log, you and Kakashi shared an enviable complicity. Each one understood the other without the need to exchange words. A simple look, a simple sign, was enough for one to be understood by the other.

Days were spent together. Little secrets were exchanged amidst laughter and sighs, two distinct lives were soaked in pure melancholy, drenched in an extreme longing for a long-lost past.

And your adolescence has never looked so beautiful in the eyes of others.

Before you knew it, you and Kakashi have reached adulthood. And what used to be so simple and natural now seemed complicated with so many glances and hidden smiles and that hint of desire that clung to every word you exchanged.

Quickly, like someone forming a smile, beyond that very natural friendship, something more emerged between you. Something deeper began to emerge between the two of you.

“I don’t understand people’s admiration for the stars.”

You stretched a little as you sat next to Kakashi, the red blanket you always carried protecting you from the cold wind of that autumn night. “It’s something that has existed since the beginning of time. There are maps and photographs of them everywhere. Why the fascination?”

“It’s like war.”

The rest of your team rested silently on the ground, wrapped and cozy by a small fire starting by you, the tranquility of a successful mission being noted by their deep and steady breaths.

You and Kakashi were relaxing on one of the many branches of the most colorful and sturdy tree near your camp, your vision completely focused on the vast starry sky and the faint line of the horizon painted by the small mountains covered in snow.

There was silence on the ground and there was silence in the tree branches.

The breeze had been encouraged by several clouds venturing along unknown paths, giving you a little privacy on that very welcoming night. The moon was small, gaining strength for a more special date, slowly feeding on the desire of the most melancholy people who wrote to her. Every animal in the forest slept near you, the heat of the fire that crackled so loudly convincing the most diverse living beings to truly rest that night – except you and Kakashi.

“The war?”

You couldn’t contain the laughter that formed inside you, a sound so melodious and innocent that it woke up nature itself for a brief moment. The breeze had returned to you only to take with it the pure sound you released, keeping among the various clouds and stars the memory of your innocent question and laugh.

“How does the fascination of the stars compare to the war?”

“Humans can’t live without them.”

Kakashi was leaning against the trunk reading one of his typical books. None of his words were of the slightest interest. His uncovered eye cautiously read each line of the book. And he just waited for an answer. He waited for your curiosity. He waited for you.

“My dear Kakashi, I live well without both. Does that make me non-human?”

Kakashi let a long, amused sigh escape his lips and grab the echo of your new laugh. By closing the book and adopting a posture more favorable to a conversation, Kakashi let his movements continue over time.

The relaxing crackle of the fire calmly accompanied your team captain’s gestures as you fixed your eyes on Kakashi in the vain hope of encouraging him to speak or, at the very least, to hurry up.

However, there was no rush in Kakashi’s movements – all the time he took to sit next to you and stare at the stars seemed like an eternity to you.

But finally, Kakashi spoke.

“Of course you live well without both. But would you be the same person you are if they didn’t exist? Would you be complete if they didn’t exist?”

“Are you insinuating that we humans need to have stars and wars to be real?”

It seemed like an outrage. What Kakashi had just insinuated to you seemed to be wrapped in a thick layer of blasphemy and nonsense. The indignation at those words was reflected in the way you looked at the various leaves that framed Kakashi in an ethereal casing of change.

What was once a peaceful setting has now become a stage for nature. Strong winds and thick clouds slowly began to appear, hoping they could continue listening to Kakashi’s thoughts. Small nocturnal birds greeted you shyly with sweet and tender melodies that spread through the sleeping forest and made you smile.

“It’s what moves us.”

“I’m sorry,” you let out a fake laugh as you composed yourself on the tree branch.

You turned to Kakashi and focused your attention on his relaxed posture. Curiosity was caught in your eyes, and an eagerness to prolong that conversation could be seen in the way you so firmly and enthusiastically pronounced the words. “But I still don’t follow your reasoning.”

“A’right, let’s go step by step.”

“Please.”

Kakashi let out a small, almost inaudible laugh at your tender plea.

His eyes were now resting on your very curious posture: your arms adjusted the red blanket to also shelter Kakashi on that cold night; your eyes sparkled with the enthusiasm of yet another conversation with your best friend; your smile warmed Kakashi more than any blanket or fire could do.

“The stars, yea? We all know that since ancient times they have been the cause of all happiness and pain for people. People in ancient civilizations worshiped the stars as gods and saw in them countless stories and life lessons. And the very own people of those civilizations used the stars and their positions for agriculture and to make decisions. Are you following?”

“Yes, professor.”

You let out another laugh as you placed your legs over Kakashi’s and gently slid closer to him. The night was getting cold, the fire was on the ground and all you had was a red blanket and Kakashi.

And how he thanked all the gods for wearing a mask and for the moon being lazy that night. For, the pink tone he quickly adopted when he felt you so close to him only revealed how much he was waiting for that action of yours.

“So…”

A brief moment of silence followed after Kakashi’s statement.

Your captain’s reasoning was lost with your innocent act. It was a simple, affectionate gesture, something that had been repeated so many times. And, like every other time, Kakashi simply lost any coordination – the feeling of having you so close to him was fantastic, almost magical.

Thus, a brief moment of silence followed as Kakashi tried to find the thread of his thought, as Kakashi tried to grasp that thread without losing the very welcoming feeling of having you close to him.

“So,” he repeated again, his posture always relaxed and carefree, the mask being the perfect hiding place for his rosy face. “People adopted these little habits from their ancestors and that’s why there are so many people who still marvel at the stars. Of course, all romantics are also enchanted by them.”

“Why?”

Pause. Silence. Contemplation.

Why? In fact, that was always the question you asked. That was always the question that made sense to ask. Indeed, why?

Kakashi stared at the stars, trying to understand why. You stared at Kakashi, waiting for him to answer why.

But the answer never came. The answer never showed up and beautified your ears with sweet justifications and immaculate logic. For, realizing that there really wasn’t a defined reason for that question, Kakashi continued his reasoning.

Your captain’s voice was drawn out and always monotonous as if it were perpetually stuck in a timbre that conveyed a vast sense of comfort.

And you listened carefully to every word Kakashi said. You listened attentively to everything he had to say, always trying hard to follow his thoughts.

“Now the war.”

Kakashi paused briefly and took a deep breath.

A sigh that seemed to be filled with tiredness escaped his lips without realizing it – the memories of conversations he had with his father were felt at that exact moment. And they weighed. They weighed so much.

“War has always existed. Since the beginning of humanity there has been war. No wars, no humans. It is in our condition as human beings – it is our need. We crave destruction. We seek chaos. It’s in us. We need war to move us. Because, quite simply, we are the war. Without it, what would we do? Who would we be? That’s why there is fascination with it. That’s why there’s so much admiration. War is the stars of the most political. And the stars are the war of the most romantic.”

“So, by that logic, love is the war of the most philosophical.”

Kakashi looked at you with confusion expressed in his eye. The various and infinite stars reflected in Kakashi’s gaze showed that, in fact, he had not understood the use of your words.

Why did you decide to grab love out of nowhere?

Why did you decide to bring that taboo into the middle of a conversation that was so special to both of you?

Why?

You noticed the confusion in Kakashi’s lack of reaction. You realized that there must be doubt in your captain’s thoughts. Looking at Kakashi, it was easy to decipher the confusion he felt and you were intrigued, fascinated even.

“Do you really think that it is only war that moves the world?”

Kakashi opened his mouth but you didn’t know.

Kakashi closed his mouth again and you didn’t even notice.

In your captain’s mind, that last conversation he had with his father began to replay endlessly. Sakumo’s words came up whenever that dangerous topic was brought up – it seemed that Sakumo’s cheap philosophies tormented Kakashi until that day.

But it wasn’t always like that – no.

From the moment Kakashi met you, Sakumo’s haunting finally ceased.

There was no need to understand love because, quite simply, and even though he didn’t know it, Kakashi was experiencing that feeling so strong, so true. There was no need to recall a conversation that tried to explain something he was feeling, even though he couldn’t decipher that specific something.

Therefore, for several years, Sakumo’s words that were imbued with understanding and affection had been forgotten, completely erased from Kakashi’s memory.

No. Wrong. The words were still there, safe, inside Kakashi’s heart.

And it only took your question, your question so similar to Sakumo’s question, to free the words and torment Kakashi again.

“Kashi?”

You let out a laugh.

Kakashi certainly knew there was something more than war. He positively knew that not everything was destruction or contempt in this world. He had to know there was beauty and hope. He had to know that there was something good in this world. Kakashi had to know all this – right?

“Love?”

The word burned in Kakashi’s mouth, his melancholic eye locked in your eyes, the reflection of the universe trapped in your fingertips.

“Love.”

Your response came with a real, genuine smile. Your eyes showed a light and tenuous sadness while a tiny hope threatened to collapse at any moment.

You spoke like love itself. Delicate and light, your lips pronounced that word with precision and extreme ease.

You spoke like love itself. Your smile was genuine and embellished by the infinite stars, painted by the cool night breeze. Your eyes were sad, scared and fearful of the drastic change of an event, of a feeling.

You spoke like love itself. You spoke in a mix of emotions that were foreign to Kakashi, a thick ball of feelings and memories was trapped in your expression and made Kakashi feel confused.

You spoke like love itself, but Kakashi could only speak like war.

Kakashi spoke like war itself. Without any feeling, afraid of what his lips could utter, scared of the strength of the word itself.

Kakashi spoke like war itself. His every word and thought was completely calculated by him, no mistake to be uttered by Kakashi, the doubt that escaped his lips bringing a bit of wisdom.

Kakashi spoke like war itself. Kakashi spoke knowing perfectly well what awaited him, he spoke knowing perfectly well the answer to his question.

And between war and love there was a brief moment of silence. A moment of tranquility brought by the infinite stars.

Between war and love there was a moment of serenity that was heard only by your careful breathing, your gaze locked on each other, your smile slowly fading as time passed.

Love.

Was that the answer to his father’s question? No. It couldn’t be something so simple like that – but there was no such thing as simplicity in love.

“Love.”

Kakashi said his statement again, allowing a fragile and invisible line to escape his mask and take with it the bruning of that word.

There was something comforting in your gaze, something soothing in the way you held the blanket tight to you. There was something serene in the way you rested your legs on Kakashi’s, something welcoming in the way you and him stood together under that starry sky.

“Love” – Kakashi never found it easier to pronounce that word.

Days without you were boring.

Everyone knew that whenever you were on a mission without being on Kakashi’s team, he would roam the streets of the village like he used to do before he met you. Everyone knew that, for Kakashi, days without you simply didn’t make sense, not when you and he had already become fully accustomed to each other’s presence.

And that day wasn’t much different from the others.

Kakashi walked through the streets calmly. His feet shuffled without any energy, one of his hands sheltered in his pants pocket, the other holding a book close to his face.

Kakashi didn’t pay attention to what he was reading or where he was walking. Having already read and reread that book so many times, having already walked those streets countless times, Kakashi didn’t need to pay attention – because something else occupied his mind.

Your mission was somewhat complicated and you left with a good team, yes. But Kakashi couldn’t trust them, not when your integrity could be at risk – Kakashi could only worry about you.

A melancholy trail was left by Kakashi’s short and relaxed steps.

His eyes read and reread the same page over and over as his mind wandered to so many possible scenarios that could happen to you.

How he hated being away from you at a scary time like that.

Kakashi had been your team captain enough times for him to know you knew how to take care of yourself. But you were also distracted and that was what bothered Kakashi. A distraction from you, an ambush from them, a misfortune from the universe – everything seemed plausible when he was away from you.

He just wanted to be with you, to hear from you, to know that you were okay. He had to be with you.

But regardless of whether or not you managed to get home safe and sound, Kakashi spent his days monotonously without you by his side.

Even though Guy continued to make his occasional appearances, enticing Kakashi into meaningless duels; even though Naruto and Sakura could fill a fragment of the void you created; even though he knew you would be back next week, the reality is that Kakashi simply couldn’t live the days in your absence.

Not since that night under the starry sky. Not when the confession of a love came out disguised in a novice and somewhat shaky pronunciation.

What could Kakashi do? Just wandering around the village without your company. Just wishing every day was shorter than the last. Just peacefully wait for your arrival.

“Today I received my words!”

Naruto was always so loud.

Kakashi lazily looked up from his book and watched Naruto talk excitedly to Sakura and Shikamaru. The smiles they shared with each other were big, contagious, as if enticing Kakashi to also let out a small smile.

“Hinata is my soulmate!”

“I got mine during the war. It was Ino who noticed,” Sakura let out a small laugh as she recalled her chaotic reactions when she discovered that Sasuke was, in fact, the man the universe had destined for her. “What about you, Shikamaru?”

“Nothin’.”

A small sigh escaped Shikamaru’s lips and brought with it the hope of not having to worry about a soulmate anytime soon.

“What about you, Kakashi-sensei?”

“I don’t pay attention to that.”

A shrug was enough to direct the conversation back to Shikamaru.

But Kakashi kept thinking. Without realizing it, all the younger’s’ speeches were obstructed with the thought that, perhaps, Kakashi had already received his words.

It was true that Kakashi avoided looking at his wrist – since that night, the mere thought of love scared him.

Once, Kakashi simply didn’t care about something as trivial as love. The mere thought of such a feeling brought only haunting of long, uninteresting conversations with his father. But now, after that night, there was fear in the feeling. There was an extra fear that burned in Kakashi’s heart when he allowed himself the luxury of thinking about something as dangerous as love.

Ever since that night, the mere thought of love scared Kakashi because, quite simply, Kakashi couldn’t imagine that word without picturing you.

And Kakashi blamed you. Yes, you. You were the bringer of Kakashi’s destruction. Because, since that night, Kakashi really started to see the world differently. And he blamed you. He blamed that word. He blamed all the stars.

But had any mark already been engraved on his wrist?

Leaving conversations and laughter behind, Kakashi returned home.

A single goal was stuck in his mind. A single need ran through his heart. A single feeling moved Kakashi. Love.

The four walls of Kakashi’s room had never felt as cozy as they did at that moment.

It was the end of the day.

The last rays of sunlight were lost in Kakashi’s room. Shades of gold and hope burned fiercely in the three frames that rested delicately on his little furniture. Your face and Kakashi’s were adorned with light celestial tones from the last ray of sunlight, enhancing the joy and comfort that that photograph brought to Kakashi.

Night fell so quickly that it didn’t even give the sun a chance to warm Kakashi’s room.

It was cold.

The proud and bright moon contrasted with the weakness of that night, the stars taking the night off to give the various and diverse clouds their turn to shine.

There was darkness and there was cold.

In the midst of that discomfort, Kakashi looked for some warmth in his wrists.

His right wrist had nothing on it – the pale skin brought a bit of disappointment to him.

But there was still hope. There was still a second chance.

Cautiously taking off his left glove, Kakashi saw a single word shining in the moonlight.

‘Almost’.

Almost?

Kakashi’s mouth opened slightly on impulse as his eyes repeatedly read and reread that single word that was carved into his wrist.

How long had it been there? How long ago did fate decide to steal you from him? Almost? Why ‘almost’? Hadn’t his confession that night been enough for you? Wouldn’t the vulnerability with which he uttered and repeated that forbidden word have been enough for both of you? Almost. Almost? Why? Could he have done something? Could he have done nothing?

A wave of corruption completely washed away any and all hope Kakashi might have had. The curiosity that once drove Kakashi’s gestures was entirely replaced by regret and frustration.

Could he go back? Could he do something to change that word?

Surely if you arrived and he confessed everything he wanted and felt for you, maybe you would reciprocate his words.

No. Not ‘maybe’. Kakashi was sure there was reciprocity. That night left no doubt. The way you two spoke, the way you looked at each other, the way you pronounced the forbidden word.

Yes. There was definitely still a little hope, even if it was small. And Kakashi knew, as years of war had taught him, that hope would always be the last to die. Surely the same applied to love. Right? – you said it yourself: love is the war of the most philosophical.

Yes. Hope.

‘Almost’ wasn’t the word Kakashi had chosen to dictate his fate, no. It was ‘hope’.

 Clinging to that small flame that had quickly lit in Kakashi’s heart, he watched the remaining days pass slowly and wistfully.

Kakashi just wanted you to come back as soon as possible. He just wanted to cheat fate once and for all and grab the happiness he had been so deprived of. Would it be too much to ask?

‘Almost’. Pathetic.

‘Almost’. Of course it wasn’t almost – Kakashi would never allow it to be ‘almost’.

And when you arrived, Kakashi carried the war with him – he was determined to change his destiny, even though he was scared. There was determination in his steps, Kakashi’s eyes so empty conveying a bit of uncertainty, of fear, of regret in actions he should have done long ago.

Waiting for you for so long only gave Kakashi permission to think, to ponder all the opportunities that were missed by him in fear of a confession made of decent words – he could make a list of all the waste that was lost.

The ‘almost’ was right.

Years passed – Kakashi should have known better. He had so many books about it, he should have known better. It wasn’t enough to just say a complicated word. It was not enough to just feel a complex feeling. Kakashi had to show – and Kakashi never showed.

But now Kakashi was determined to change that. Kakashi was determined to change his destiny.

Just like war, Kakashi came to you without any warning.

Just like war, Kakashi caught you unnoticed in a spontaneous embrace of longing and nostalgia. It was rare for Kakashi to express his love, but you couldn’t deny that it was something that always made you smile.

You hugged Kakashi back, your arms fitting perfectly around his body, the way his strong arms squeezed you in a comforting embrace making you more relaxed. Although you had already arrived at the village two days ago, it was at that moment that you truly felt at home.

“How’s the mission?”

That wasn’t the question Kakashi wanted to ask – it wasn’t what he had rehearsed.

But you started a long, drawn-out monologue about all the ups and downs of that mission that lasted almost two weeks. A rollercoaster of emotions was reported by you as Kakashi listened attentively to every word out of your mouth.

And, while he listened to you, he looked intently at your arms.

Kakashi’s empty eyes searched for tattoos made by the stars. The curiosity to know your fate was what moved Kakashi’s eyes and forced him to look at your body.

Until finally he saw it.

‘It was close’.

It was close?

What absurd words had fate given you? It didn’t make sense.

Was it close that you didn’t end up with Kakashi? Was it close that you fell into someone else’s love trap? What did those words mean? What did they mean in a vast sea of ​​possibilities?

“And I got my tattoo on the way here.”

You extended your arm and gave Kakashi permission to read your mark better.

‘It was close’.

“I was confused by what it meant. But it made sense when I found…”

“Him?”

Him.

Kakashi knew who you were talking about.

You didn’t need to confess names or draw portraits with your words. Kakashi always knew who you were talking about, because he was the one you loved before you met Kakashi, and he was the one you loved during the early days of your friendship with Kakashi.

“Yea.”

The smile you let out reminded Kakashi of love: shy and so happy, a hint of accomplishment displayed in the beautiful curves of your lips, a sense of comfort trapped in your confession.

Love.

Damn you.

“He walk with me to the village and is staying here. Today we’re going to our first date.”

And that’s when Kakashi realized – no one could change their destiny.

With a fake smile and forced curiosity, Kakashi allowed you to nail long, painful barbs into his heart, erasing any hope he still had left, completely staining the forbidden word for Kakashi.

With a fake smile and tears trapped in his eyes, Kakashi allowed your happiness to flood his darkness, little stars of your joy faintly painting Kakashi’s pain.

Because, yes. Despite everything, Kakashi was happy.

Even though he would be happier with you, Kakashi was happy for you.

You overflowed with love.

Extreme happiness wrapped in a film of euphoria delicately filled your room. Your eyes shone with the emotion of a love about to be lived. Your wide smile managed to be contagious, even though Kakashi didn’t want to smile.

You were the embodiment of love.

You were hope and comfort from the first day he met you and he hated you for it.

Kakashi hated you because he knew he would never be able to find someone who had as much of an impact as you did. He would never be able to find someone who made the word ‘love’ mean as much as you did.

It was the way you spoke so happily about each other. It was the way you still cared about Kakashi like you still liked him. It was your own way of being.

You were kindness and simplicity hidden behind a strong sphere of complexity.

You were, undeniably, love.

And the conversation that night never made as much sense as it did at that moment.

In Kakashi’s realization, in the midst of all the suffering caused by you, you continued to move Kakashi. The way you still made Kakashi eager to see you. The way your company was still, and always would be, crucial to Kakashi. The way he still loved you after you caused him so much anguish.

You have always been the personification of the word love. And, just like the feeling itself, it was you who moved Kakashi’s world.

♡ feedback is always welcomed ♡

[2amriize]

.ᐟ RIIZE scenario: babysitting ༉‧₊˚.

req: can u do babysitting with riize members? like babysitting a little cousin or something along the lines of that i guess? anton and eunseok with those kids makes me ☹️ it’s so cute!!!!!

pairing: bf!riize x reader —masterlist

⭑.ᐟ shotaro

Shotaro had never taken care of such a small child before. At first, he wouldn’t really know what to do and would get a little (okay, very) nervous, letting out constant nervous laughs while asking every five seconds: “What should we do now?” After watching you struggle for a while trying to get the child to stop crying, he’d step in to help. He’d start making funny faces, quickly getting the child to laugh. You were surprised by how fast he managed it and how well they seemed to get along.

⭑.ᐟ eunseok

Even though you didn’t expect it from him, Eunseok is actually really good at babysitting. It’s probably because he has a younger sibling and a lot of experience with them. You couldn’t stop staring at him every time he played with the child, carried them, or soothed them—which, for some reason, he was particularly good at.

"I thought you already knew I’m good at everything."

⭑.ᐟ sungchan

He wouldn’t stop smiling and watching the child. Every little thing the kid did would make him grin. To keep everyone entertained, you decided to bake cookies together, but Sungchan got distracted for a moment and spilled the entire mixture on the floor. You didn’t expect that, seconds later, after a brief silence, the three of you would be starting a food fight, laughing uncontrollably.

"Just so you know, you’re cleaning this up, babe," you’d whisper in Sungchan’s ear once the chaos was over.

⭑.ᐟ wonbin

It would be pure chaos. Even though Wonbin finds little kids adorable, he has no idea how to interact with them. He wouldn’t know what to talk about or how to keep them entertained, but he’d keep trying new things to grab their attention, even attempting to teach them how to dance. That said, if the child started crying, you wouldn’t find him anywhere near.

"That’s all you," he’d say, pointing at you.

⭑.ᐟ seunghan

Things would start off pretty smoothly, but you knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to leave them alone. You’d only be gone for three minutes to use the bathroom, but when you returned, Seunghan and the child would have completely turned the living room upside down. Cushions and blankets would be scattered everywhere. According to Seunghan, he’d built an obstacle course to see who could complete it faster (and of course, he’d let the kid win).

⭑.ᐟ sohee

You’d spent the entire afternoon playing with the child, and it had been challenging for both of you since it was your first time babysitting. When bedtime rolled around, the child refused to go to bed no matter how much you insisted. That’s when Sohee came up with the idea to tell them a story and sing a lullaby. You were amazed at how quickly Sohee invented a tale about a princess named “y/n,” who needed to be rescued by the great knight “Sohee.”

⭑.ᐟ anton

He loves kids. In fact, he adores them, and he knows exactly how to take care of them. You, on the other hand, would feel completely lost. Even though you wanted to help out or spend some time playing with the child, they always ended up gravitating toward Anton. It wasn’t intentional, and you found it sweet to watch the two of them together, but deep down, you felt a little bad that the child kept choosing him over you. Anton noticed and told the child to go hug you and plant a kiss on your cheek while you were sitting on the couch, which completely made your night.

masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess

[cinnaleaf]

「 Mistletoe | A Very Merry Footballer Ficmas 」

summary: you’re at an ugly christmas sweater party and levi won’t stop pressing your buttons — literally and figuratively. | MDNI 18+

warnings: teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, party setting, dirty talk, language, alcohol, major banter, mistletoe game i made up 🎅🏾: ho ho ho, a little elf told me you asked for this | pt 1 of my ficmas mini series (jude is next) wc: ~4.6k

Levi was the kind of man you wanted to fight on sight. No hesitation, no second thoughts. Not because he did anything diabolical, but because everything about him was annoying. The way his Christmas jumper blinked annoyed you. The way he leaned against the counter with his drink, grinning at everyone like he just blessed the party with his presence annoyed you. What irritated you the most was the way he caught you glaring at him from across the party, smirking with audacity like he knew exactly how much he got under your skin.

You took a long sip of rum and Coke, narrowing your eyes as your friend, Zara, hopped on the countertop with a wireless mic in her hand – chaos in her eyes. “Okay, everyone shut up for a sec!”

The other partygoers quieted down, turning their attention to Zara. She was wearing a bright red jumper that said “LET’S GET ELFED UP!” written in glittery letters, paired with an elf handing out pints of beer to other elves, jingle bells scattered across the warm fuzzy fabric.

“We’re gonna play a game” she announced, waving her hand toward the absurd amount of mistletoe hanging around the house. “I went a little crazy with the decor if you haven’t noticed.” Small conversations and laughter diffused through the crowd as they glanced around at the ridiculous amount of Christmas lights, tinsel, and garland covering nearly every inch of Zara’s house.

“The rules are really simple. if you get caught under the mistletoe with someone, you have to kiss. No dodging, no excuses. If you refuse…” She paused dramatically, widening her smile. “You have to do a shot of special eggnog.”

The crowd groaned collectively. The ‘special’ eggnog in question was thick, lukewarm, and spiked with whatever unholy combination of liquor she could find. She got you with it last year, and it tasted like regret, disappointment and bad decisions blended into one vile concoction.

“So keep your eyes open, people!” Zara said with a laugh, hopping off the counter top while her jumper jingled. “And don’t even try to cheat. I have eyes everywhere.”

As the party resumed, you caught Levi in your peripherals, grinning while making his way to the drink station. He was wearing an obnoxious, green monstrosity that had a mirror stitched onto the chest with the words “UGLIEST SWEATER AWARD” right above it in bold white letters, scattered with blinking lights. Every time someone glanced in the mirror, it essentially called them ugly and Levi was loving every second of it.

You glanced down at your own jumper, which you personally thought was a comedic masterpiece. It was a bright red knit that had a big button in the center. When pressed, LED lights and a cheery voice announced whether someone was on the naughty or nice list. It was an instant hit the minute you walked in, everyone was eager to learn their fate.

But of course, your joy didn’t last long when Levi finally spotted you alone.

“Y/N!” he called out, weaving through the crowd toward you. His grin, although beautiful and bright, had you infuriated. “One hell of a jumper you got there. What’s that button for?”

“For people with manners” you shot back, sipping your drink.

“Good thing I’m exactly that” he quipped, stepping right into your personal space. Before you could swat his hand away, he reached out to press the button. The LED lights showed an image of Santa tapping his cheek, before the cheery voice finally declared: Naughty!

Levi gave an amused snicker. “Yeah, that’s accurate. Let me try again.”

“No–” you started, but his hand was already pressing the button again.

“Naughty!” the jumper repeated, and Levi was doubled over laughing, nearly in tears.

“Nah. This thing has to be broken. No shot it gave me naughty again.” he said, shaking his head as he leaned in to press it again.

“Levi can you fucking not?”

Naughty!

You shoved his hand away finally, scowling. “I think you’ve made your point now.”

“Nahhh, I don’t know. It feels like a fluke if I keep getting naughty. Third time is clearly not the charm so let’s make it four.”

He pressed the button again before you could react, but this time the lights on the jumper flickered weakly before going out entirely.

“What the hell?” you groaned, tugging at the wires inside the knit to check for damage. “You broke it!”

“It was already broken,” Levi said, entirely too pleased with himself.

“You’re so fucking annoying” you muttered, clutching your drink and storming off to the laundry room to fix the jumper.

Levi called after you innocently, but it was anything but. “Y/N!”

“Let me know if you need a hand, yeah? I have a mirror with the perfect view!” he added.

You shot him a glare over your shoulder, stepping into the laundry room and slamming the door harder than you needed to. You muttered under your breath as you set your drink down on top of the washing machine. “I swear if I can’t fix this I’m actually going to fight him.”

You tugged the jumper over your head, leaving you in just a bra and jeans. The wires inside were a mess thanks to Levi’s relentless button pushing, no pun intended. You were determined to fix it before he had another chance to fuck something else up with it. Just as you started untangling the tiny LED strands, the door creaked open. You glanced up, already irritated.

“Whatever you want, the answer is no.”

Levi leaned against the frame of the door casually, smugly grinning while holding an empty cup. “Relax. Just came in here for..uh…a refill.”

You stared at him, deadpan. “In the laundry room? Be forreal.”

“It’s quieter in here” he said, shrugging as he stepped inside. “And I thought I’d check on you. You seemed like you were mad or something.”

“I am.” you said, glaring as you messed with the wires. “You broke my jumper!”

Levi smirked, dragging his eyes downward as he caught sight of your bra. He didn’t bother hiding it which made you even more irritated.

“Can you not?” you snappily asked, waving the jumper at him. “I’m trying to fix this thing.”

He licked over his lips when he noticed how your chest bounced slightly with the jerk of your arms from trying to fix the wires. “Looks like that jumper isn’t the only thing working overtime.”

Your head whipped up and he nodded toward your bra, smirking. “Nice choice.”

“Levi... I swear if you don’t shut –”

Before you could finish, Zara’s loud voice cut through the air from the hallway. “Ooooh! Laundry room mistletoe!!”

You groaned out loud as Levi’s head tilted upward, that same infuriating grin from before plastered all over his face. Sure enough, there was a tiny sprig of mistletoe dangling over a light.

Zara appeared in the doorway, delighted and chaotically cheerful. “You know the rules! KISS!”

“No. Absolutely not.” you muttered, yanking your jumper back over your head, though it wasn’t fixed just yet. “Laundry rooms don’t count! This should be a safe zone.”

“There are no safe zones in this house,” Zara said with an evil grin. “Kiss or its eggnog time!”

“Can we just not? Is that not a choice?” you snapped, glaring at Levi who was leaning casually against the washing machine, not bothered in the slightest by a suggestion of a kiss.

“Rules are rules Y/N” Levi said, flashing another cheeky grin. 

“Besides..you already look like you’re considering it” he winked, pointing at the mirror on his ugly Christmas sweater. You caught yourself glancing in the mirror, instantly annoyed that he was able to trick you that easily.

“I’ll do the eggnog.” you said flatly, crossing your arms.

“You sure about that?” Zara teased, a sudden crowd now gathering behind her. Partiers were pushing into the hallway, echoing with laughter as more people realized what was happening. Everyone knew you couldn’t stand Levi, so this was prime entertainment for them.

“Mistletoooooooe!!!” someone called out, and the chanting began. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

If you could disappear to literally anywhere else in that moment you would’ve. The crowd was loving it and phones were already coming out to film like you were in some sick reality show back on some island in Fiji.

Zara crossed her arms and gave you a look. “Babe, you’re gonna regret that eggnog more than a kiss. It’s a vintage batch from last year..and I added more Everclear.”

“Just get it over with! I’m missing out on my spades game for this!” Someone in the crowd called out.

You scowled at Levi, then back at Zara and the crowd behind her. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.” you snapped, stepping closer to Levi.

Levi straightened, looking way too pleased as he tilted his head down toward you. “Didn’t think you had it in you to kiss me with an audience.”

“Shut the fuck up” you muttered before grabbing the front of his jumper and pulling him into a kiss.

The crowd erupted into cheers, hoots, hollers, and whistles the second your lips met his. You planned for it to be a quick peck, barely there kiss, but Levi had other ideas. His lips were warm, surprisingly soft, and sort of delicious. You could faintly taste mulled wine on his lips as one of his hands lightly fell onto your hip, like he was testing the waters. This kiss wasn’t rushed or sloppy...it was annoyingly good.

When you pulled back, you were breathless and way more flustered than you wanted to admit, and Levi’s grin was back in full force.

“Didn’t hate it, did you?” he murmured in a low tone that only you could hear.

You shoved his chest, rolling your eyes as you pushed through the crowd to head back to the party.

After the spectacle in the laundry room, you needed space. Preferably somewhere Levi wasn’t smirking and people weren’t shouting “Mistletoe!” like it was the second coming of Christ. So you headed to the kitchen because you were hungry.

The kitchen was a lot more calm than the rest of the party, with the exception of s small group playing spades at a table, loudly flinging cards on the tabletop and yelling. Plates of food were scattered across the counters, but you chose the jerk chicken wings first. You grabbed a wing, biting into it as you surveyed the rest of the options. You spotted Levi by the drinks where he was refilling on mulled wine. He looked calm, like he didn’t just kiss you in front of half the party and make you question why he was so damn good at it. You wanted to ignore him, but he turned and his eyes met yours like he felt you watching him. He smiled and you immediately looked back down at the chicken wings, grabbing another and biting into it.

Levi walked over with his mulled wine sloshing around in his cup. “Better slow down before you choke on it.” he said, eying the chicken wing in your grasp. “Unless you like that type of thing..”

You glanced at him, unimpressed. “I do, actually. But not with you watching. Now leave.”

Levi chuckled and leaned against the counter next to you, not planning on going anywhere. “Nah, I can’t take my eyes off you tearing it up like that. I’m CPR certified, you know?”

You scoffed, grabbing a napkin to dab your mouth. “If that were true you’d know it’s actually the Heimlich that’s used for choking, Big Brain.”

Levi grinned, enjoying your frustration but then you heard a shout from the spades table.

“MISTLETOE!” someone hollered, pointing toward the end of the counter where a rogue mistletoe sprig was tied around the neck of an empty bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream, hidden behind all the food.

You stared at it in disbelief. “I know you’re fucking lying” you muttered under your breath, unable to comprehend how the placement of mistletoe made any sense. Surely someone was fucking with you.

Levi followed your gaze, his grin growing more smug as he took in the setup. “Damn, that’s creative. Gotta give Zara her props for that one.”

The crowd playing spades in the kitchen caught on fast and started yelling.

“Girl, you know you wanna kiss him again!” someone yelled while laughing.

“Yeah, don’t front!” another chimed in, hyping the situation.

You whipped around and glared at Levi, who was basking in all the attention. “This is your fault. I told you to leave.”

He raised his hands, laughing. “It’s Zara’s fault. I didn’t make the rules, Y/N.”

The crowd wasn’t letting up on the chants. Phones were out, cameras ready, and Zara was posted up against the fridge like the instigator she was, sipping her drink and grinning like you should thank her.

You groaned at the thought of Zara’s cursed eggnog and shuddered internally. Levi stepped closer to you, shrinking the space between you. “You’ll enjoy this one too. I promise.”

You parted your lips to respond – maybe even argue, but Levi tilted his head and moved his hands to your waist.

“This doesn’t mean anything by the way” you whispered, gripping the counter behind you for balance.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night” he teased in a barely audible voice over all the noise.

This time, there was no awkward start. It was hot. His mouth moved on yours like he had something to prove. It felt like he was trying to carve his name into your mouth and leave it there. His tongue slid past your lips, making your grip on the counter tighten. The room felt like it was spinning, or maybe it was just you. Levi’s hands slightly pushed your jumper up, and he brushed his thumbs over your sides. Suddenly, your body betrayed you and your hands found their way around the back of his neck, pulling him in closer as you leaned back against the counter. There was a natural rhythm to the kiss and the two of you nearly forgot there was a crowd watching.

Was it hot in here, or was it just you? Or him?? Both???

You felt him smile against your lips when you let out a small moan from the intensity of the kiss. You pulled away annoyed, but breathlessly impressed.

“Better than eggnog, right?” he questioned rhetorically.

You stared at him, lips still tingling, breath uneven. “Maybe....” you answered, pushing him away and grabbing your jerk chicken wing plate. You walked over to Zara and pulled her off to the side, away from the party and away from Levi’s smug, annoyingly handsome face.

Zara raised her eyebrows, barely managing to hold onto her drink as you dragged her away. “What? What did I do now? I’m just an innocent bystander.”

“Innocent my ass” you jabbed, setting your plate down on a nearby table. “What’s wrong with him?”

Zara smiled, tilting her head. “Define ‘wrong’.”

“That kiss” you said, gesturing vaguely toward the kitchen where the chaos unfolded. “It was...good. Like way too good. It’s hot in here.”

Zara smirked, taking a sip of her drink. “Sooo...you liked it then?”

“That’s not what I said” you countered quickly, but the way your eyes were darting back and forth gave your lie away. “He’s doing something to me and I hate it.”

“No you don’t” Zara snorted, leaning against the wall. “Maybe you need to just get laid. Blow off some steam or something, I don’t know.”

“Zara” you groaned, rubbing your temples.

“What?” she said with a laugh. “He’s cute. You’re cute. You’re clearly into each other. A little hook up might be fun. Based on that last kiss, you’re already halfway there anyway.”

You shot her a glare, turning your heel away from her in annoyance. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

“Sure babe” Zara called after you. “But you know I’m not wrong!”

You splashed cold water on your face in the refuge of the bathroom, trying to shake off the throbs your body felt from the kiss. Levi’s hands, his soft lips, and the way he smiled against your lips had you thinking what else he could be good at. You stared in the mirror, shaking your head. “He’s so irritating,” you muttered to your reflection. “And so fucking fine.”

With a sigh, you stepped back into the hallway but your peace lasted for all of three seconds.

Levi appeared at the other end of the hallway, casually strolling toward you with his drink in hand. He looked like he had nowhere to be and all the time in the world to bother you. His jumper was still obnoxiously blinking, a grin already forming. Levi stopped in front of you, lifting his cup and taking a slow sip while peering at you over the rim. The silence stretched for a long time as he drank, until he pointed up with his index finger, bringing attention to another piece of mistletoe. He didn’t say a word after and stood there smirking at you, waiting. 

That cocky, knowing curve of his mouth was your undoing and you grabbed him by his jumper, kissing him with every intention of taking it farther. The kiss wasn’t just hot, nor was it something to shut him up or get it over with. It was like someone had taken a match to dry kindling. There was no one else in the hallway, but even if there was, you couldn’t care less. 

Levi froze for half a second, not expecting you to make the first move, but then he was kissing you back with one hand caressing your ass, the other pressed up against the wall next to the door. The way he was moving his tongue against yours sent fiery heat straight to your core, making your breath hitch in its wake.

You were not a passive participant in this game. Your hands slid up under his jumper, grazing over his happy trail above the waistband of his jeans. Your back bumped up against the doorframe, but the wood pressing into you didn’t matter because Levi’s dick was also pressing into you, straining against his jeans. 

“Y/N” he muttered against your mouth rough and low, trying to hold himself back.

It wasn’t a question or even a statement. He was teetering on the edge, one breath away from losing control. You didn’t have to think twice and you stepped back, pulling him into the bathroom with you as he kicked the door closed behind him, locking the door without pulling from your lips. His lips trailed down to your neck, his fingers teasing the zipper of your jeans. 

“I knew you wanted me” he murmured against your skin.

“Keep talking and I’ll change my mind” you teased, fumbling with the button of his jeans as your breath came in short, heated gasps.

When his jeans hit the floor you barely registered the sound of the button on your Christmas jumper malfunctioning. The automated voice cheerily kept declaring “Naughty, naughty, naughty, naughty!” until it finally sputtered and died.

Levi laughed, brushing his lips against your ear. “Guess it’s not wrong.”

Once your jeans were off, he ran his hands over your panties, instantly making you bite your lip to stop a moan. He hooked a finger, pulling them off in one swift motion. His fingers striped between your folds as you pulled your jumper and bra off, making you grip the countertop.

“Mistletoe” he whispered against your chest, taking in your nipple and circling his tongue around its peak. You leaned your head back, closing your eyes while grazing your hands over the top of his head. You couldn’t see it, but there was another sprig of mistletoe reflecting from the mirror that was taped to the wall that you hadn’t noticed earlier.

You were losing it. You hated how good it felt. You hated the way his smug smile against your skin made you wetter when he kissed down your body, then back up to your neck. You couldn’t help but moan from the sensation.

“You’re loud” he drawled against your skin. “You need to be quiet unless you want the whole party to know how good I’m about to fuck you.”

You glared at him, but the fire in your eyes wasn’t overpowering the fire between your legs. “Stop teasing me and get on with it.” The tone in your voice let him know just how badly you wanted him.

Levi smirked, grazing your jawline as he trailed his lips back to yours. “You’re so impatient.” he said, dipping his fingers inside of you before he took them out again. Your hips jerked toward him involuntarily and you moaned again before you could stop it.

“Levi..I–”

He cut you off and pressed a kiss to your lips that stole the rest of the sentence and every coherent thought in your head. He moved his fingers slowly, drawing circles around your clit that made your knees buckle.

“You’re soaked” He breathed against your mouth, satisfied. “Why are you so worked up, Y/N? Was it the mistletoe?”

Your nails dug into his biceps, trying to focus on the onslaught of sensations. “You talk too much shit” you gasped, arching into him as his fingers slid lower, dipping inside you just enough to make you arch into him more.

“Fuck..” you moaned.

“Seems like you like it though” he quipped, pulling his hand away just to hear you whine. 

Your hand shot out and gripped the back of his neck, trying to pull him closer. “I swear to god if you don’t stop playing..”

Levi spun you around and pressed you against the counter before you could argue with him anymore. The cold marble made you hiss, but Levi gave you no time to adjust to the sensation. His hands were on your ass, spreading you open as he leaned in close, brushing his lips against your ear.

“Admit you want me” he demanded. “Or I’ll make you beg for it.”

You turned your head, glaring over your shoulder. “I’m not begging for shit.”

“We’ll see about that.” he laughed, unbothered.

You felt the head of his dick press against you, teasing you, but he didn’t push in. Instead, he slid it up and down, coating himself in your wetness to drive you up the wall.

“Levi don’t piss me off” you groaned, grinding back against him, desperate.

“Say it.”

Your body was heating with equal parts irritation and need. You didn’t know who the fuck he thought he was, trying to make you beg. 

If he wanted to be funny, you were going to be hilarious.

Without another word, you reached behind, gripping him in your hand. His dick twitched under your touch as you ran your thumb down the vein on his shaft, and you heard him suck in his breath. You lined him up and pushed yourself into him, a delicious stretch stole the air from your lungs. He filled you slowly, inch by inch, making you bite your lip to stop from moaning.

“Fuck you feel so good” Levi muttered, gripping your hips as he gave you some time to adjust. “Tight as hell too. No wonder you’re loud.”

You were going to snap back at him but when he started moving, he pulled out almost completely before slamming back in, making you loudly moan his name.

“Y/N!” Zara’s voice echoed from the hallway, followed by a cackle. “I fucking knew it!”

You buried your face against the marble from embarrassment, but Levi didn’t stop. If anything, her little interruption hyped him up. “Guess there’s no point being quiet now” he grinned, snapping his hips harder. “Let ‘em hear how good I’m fucking you.”

You glared at him through the mirror but your mouth fell open when his hips thrusted into you again. “You–” Another deep thrust followed and your words broke into a moan. You hated how loud you were but your body was uncontrollably reacting to him. He wasn’t just pressing one button, he was pressing all of them; mapping out each nerve to set you off.

“What was that, Y/N?” Levi asked, teasing you with unrelenting thrusts. “Didn’t catch what you said. Too busy making you lose your head.”

“Shut up” you gasped, clutching the counter like it could save you.

“You first.” He grinned, smacking your ass as he hit a spot that made your legs shake. “But you can’t, can you?”

Your nails scratched against the counter, moans spilling out. You could feel your stomach coiling tighter with every stroke and roll of his hips. You were going to tell him to shut up again but what came out of your mouth was the complete opposite.

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded.

“Ah, there it is,” he voiced arrogantly. “Good girl.”

You tried to bite back a cry but it tore from you when he thrust harder, making you arch your back. Your mind felt foggy, you were gasping between moans, only focused on him as Christmas music muffled from the door. He was filling you, stretching you, and ruining you in the best way.

“Say it again” he growled, sliding his hand around your waist to press your stomach. “Say you want me to make you cum.”

You gasped at his words, the pressure of his hands, and the stretch of him inside you – the perfect trio to make you crash over the edge. “Levi..fuck. I’m close” you whimpered, grinding against him as you came closer to a breaking point.

He slowed his thrusts just enough to drive you mad, brushing his lips over your ear. “Not yet. Not until I’m in so deep you forget your name.” He pulled out of you slowly, leaving you aching for him. Before you could complain he flipped you around, lifting you onto the counter. His hands hooked under your thighs and pulled you closer, sliding back into you in one smooth, deep stroke. This angle hit different and stole the air from your lungs, making your head fall back on the mirror.

“Eyes on me” Levi demanded roughly, though he sounded a little needy. “I wanna see you when you cum.”

Your heavy lidded eyes locked on his and the intensity of his gaze made you pulse against his dick. He groaned and pounded into you, no mercy. You cried out, squeezing his dick with your orgasm as the hot pleasure coursed through you. 

“Goddamn” Levi groaned, feeling you clench your muscles against him. 

His grip on your thighs tightened and he pulled out at the last second, stroking his dick with one hand, the other keeping your legs wide. “Ah, shit” he cursed under his breath as he came, painting your stomach with his cum. Your body trembled from the aftershocks of your orgasm as you watched him pump himself empty. For a while, the bathroom was filled with nothing but heavy breaths and the distant party sounds beyond the door. Levi grabbed a towel on the edge of the counter to clean you up with care; that smug little grin still hadn’t left his face.

“You good?” he asked, low and gravelly, still catching his own breath.

You nodded, still panting as you sat up on the counter, running a hand over your hair. Levi’s hand stayed on your thigh and he smirked at you. As irritating as his confidence was – it was also hot.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you said, breathlessly.

On the floor, your malfunctioning Christmas jumper sprung back to life. The cheery automated voice chimed in once again.

Naughty!

Naughty!

Naughty!

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Whiskey, Neat

Summary: Y/N is sweet and awkward, how will that work out for her when she meets the world's hottest rockstar.

Pairing: Rockstar!Jensen x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings/18+: Smut. Unprotected PinV sex. Oral (m&f receiving). Vaginal fingering. Bit of dirty talk. Shy/Awkward reader. Jensen being an absolute rock god. Jensen being irresistible. Jensen being the hottest mofo on the planet.

Word Count: 5,154

A/N: So I got a couple of requests (here and here) for a rockstar!jensen fic after the shows in Austin that murdered us all. I already had every intention of writing something to try and slake our thirst, so I hope this satisfies what you were looking for my friends! Got it out a day earlier than I thought I would! Yay! 😁

I also took some inspiration from this unbelievably hot TikTok. 🥵🥵

As always, of course, this is a single, multiverse version of Jensen. This is a complete and utter work of fiction. ❤️

Jensen Ackles was a fucking, rock god; Y/N wasn't denying that. 

Her friend, Angela, was shaking her head at her and throwing her arms wide. 

“He's fucking amazing! Girl! Why wouldn't you go? They're backstage passes and he is the sexiest fucking man on earth! How can you pass this up?”

Y/N's face became pleading, willing her friend to understand her trepidation. “Because he's the sexiest fucking man on earth, Angela! And what am I supposed to say when I meet him? ‘Hi my name is Y/N. I have four cats, and an inability to speak without horribly embarrassing myself. Please don't look directly at me or I might burst into flames.’”

Angela rolled her eyes. “All you need to say is, ‘Hi, I'm Y/N and I'd be happy to suck your dick.”

Y/N felt her cheeks get warm. “Not likely.”

“Y/N!” Angela whined. “You have to come. You won the passes and they're in your name. If you don't go, I can't go, and you'll be denying me my god given right to maybe fuck Jensen Ackles.”

Y/N scowled at her. “Your god given right? Really?”

“Okay, fine. My god given right to go drool over him up close!” 

Y/N was hesitating and Angela could sense she had her on the ropes as she continued. “Look, you've been looking for ways to get over your shyness, right?”

Y/N scoffed. “Yeah and those ways don't include making a fool of myself in front of a rock god.”

Angela pouted. “Please? It will be so much fun.”

Y/N felt her stomach clench at the idea but finally relented. The truth was that alongside the unbelievable fear at the idea of meeting Jensen Ackles, was an equal amount of ridiculous excitement.

She sighed. “Fine but if it looks like I'm gonna throw up, you need to promise to get me out of there.”

***

The crowd was screaming and jostling Y/N around as she stood in the floor section, about five feet from the stage. Jensen hadn't even come out yet, but the musicians that backed him on tour were coming on stage, and everyone knew that meant he was minutes away from coming out.

Angela was quite possibly screaming the loudest. It was a lot for Y/N to be immersed in the noise and chaos. But she also had pleasant butterflies in her stomach, allowing the excitement to override her extreme nervousness.

Finally the lights went down in the house and the lights pointing at the stage came up, bright and colorful, and zooming around the stage. 

The first blaring notes of Jensen's latest hit started just as he leapt out on stage. He began to sing the driving melody, using his rough, powerful voice to give the lyrics the feel of a battle cry.

The first four songs were performed one right after the other, whipping the crowd into a frenzied, frothing mob. 

After that, he slowed things down a little, introduced the band and promised them all an unforgettable night. 

He did a couple of medium tempo songs from previous albums, and one of his slow, slightly melancholy hits. Y/N sang along with every word. 

She could have sworn that when he was close to the edge of the stage and looking down at them all, he made direct eye contact with her. It was only for a moment, and he may have been looking at something behind her, but that stare still made her toes curl.

The rest of the concert was incredible. Jensen dripped sex on stage, his body drenched in sweat. His voice cast a spell over the crowd as it moved back and forth from rough and full of grit, to velvety and full of warmth.

He did two encores before he left the stage for good. When he was gone, Y/N stood in the aftermath feeling like she'd been given a pleasure overload.

And now she had to go meet him.

Angela grabbed her hand so they wouldn't get separated in the throng, and followed the signs pointing the way for those with backstage passes.

They walked down a long rope line until they reached the very end. They waited behind the velvet rope for Jensen to arrive and start signing autographs.

It was easy to know when he emerged from the stage door because a wave of hysterical screaming started up once again.

Y/N could see him approximately twenty feet away, making his way down the line, smiling at fans and taking selfies with them, signing CDs and posters of him. More than one woman pulled down the neckline of their t-shirt so he could sign the heavy swell of their breasts.

As he approached them, Angela started screaming for him and waving her CD towards him. It was at that exact moment and not a moment sooner that Y/N realized she had nothing for him to sign. She carried nothing with her and there was no way she was bold enough to get him to sign her boobs.

Jensen approached Angela and smiled at her before shooting a quick look at Y/N. He focused his attention back on Angela as her friend gushed and yelled at him over the crowd.

“You're the absolute best! The show was incredible!” She told him. 

He smiled, thanking her and handing her back the signed CD, before obligingly leaning in slightly to allow for a selfie.

Finally Jensen reached Y/N, the very last person in the line. He stared at her for a moment and Y/N just stared back, falling head first into the green magic of his gaze.

He raised an eyebrow and leaned a little closer to be heard over the crowd. “Got something for me, Sweetheart?”

Angela's voice was in Y/N's head and she was about two seconds away from shouting. “Sure, I can suck your dick.” 

Thankfully before that happened, he made a motion like he was signing something and she realized he meant, did she have something for him to sign.

She shook her head. “No, I…I'm sorry, I didn't think. I don't have things.” She said, slightly rambling.

He smiled warmly and Y/N practically melted into the floor like the Wicked Witch of the West. 

“Well, we gotta fix that.” Jensen said, nodding to the bodyguard standing at the end of the rope. The giant man unhooked the velvet barrier from its pole, holding it out wide so that Y/N could leave the line. 

Jensen leaned towards her to make himself heard again and she was almost completely undone by the scent of him; clean sweat and salty skin combined with something masculine and tangy that made her desperate to bury her face in the t-shirt that clung to him like a second skin.

When he spoke into her ear, goosebumps spread over every inch of her body, and it took her a minute to actually process his words.

“Come on into the green room with us and we'll find you a CD so I can sign it for you.”

Y/N swallowed convulsively and then waved at Angela vaguely. “My friend…”

He smiled at Angela again and waved her forward. “She's welcome to come too, the more the merrier.”

Angela shoved Y/N forward in her excitement to follow him and Jensen reached out to steady her.

He grinned at her. “You good?”

She just nodded emphatically.

“What's your name, darlin’?” He asked, and his soft Texan drawl made her woozy. 

“Y/N.” She answered in a shaky voice.

“Well hi, Y/N.”

Jensen ushered them forward, letting them precede him into a short, slightly dark hallway. As they turned a corner and continued down a longer, better lit hallway, the noise of the crowd slowly receded. 

It was only a minute until they reached a big brown door and the bodyguard opened it for them. 

Inside was a party. There was a makeshift bar at the back of the room and the band was already a couple of drinks ahead. They’d obviously brought friends too, some men, some women. Music played loudly and everyone gave a cheer as Jensen walked in. 

They were quickly surrounded by people clapping Jensen on the back and congratulating him on a great show. There were some press people there as well, wearing press passes and snapping photographs. 

Y/N was overwhelmed by everything happening around her, and she turned to Angela to silently freak out with her, but her friend had been immediately and completely distracted by the drummer who had approached her. She seemed to be very caught up in him as she wandered away from the group to chat with him quietly. Y/N shook her head, trying to snag Angela's attention again and force her to come back, but that was apparently impossible.

Finally as the crowd around him parted, Jensen looked back at her. 

“Give me ten minutes to shower and change and I'll be back. Can I get you a drink first?”

Y/N shook her head no and then answered anyway. “I'd like a water.”

Jensen seemed slightly surprised by her choice, but smiled and took her hand to lead her to the bar, where one of the bodyguards was doing double duty as a bartender.

Jensen leaned over the makeshift bar and spoke loudly, above the music. “One water and one whiskey, neat.”

Y/N felt ridiculous as the bartender passed her a water bottle before pouring out about four fingers worth of Whiskey for Jensen. She wasn't a big drinker, but she'd certainly drank before. She liked vodka, she could have asked for something with vodka.

Jesus, I'm completely out of my element here. She thought, starting to feel a bit claustrophobic even in the wide and spacious room.

She looked down at her feet as she spoke to Jensen. "You know, you don't have to sign anything for me. I mean...I don't wanna trouble you. I don't need anything."

Jensen tipped her chin up with his forefinger. "I'll let you in on a little secret sweetheart."

He smiled flirtatiously and his bright green eyes sparkled. "I didn't actually bring you here to give you an autograph. I just thought we could get to know each other a little."

Her heart started to hammer against her ribs and she blinked owlishly at him. The sexiest man alive just wanted to spend time with her?

His flirty expression softened a little and he dropped his hand, taking a step back.

"But if you just wanna go, that's no problem."

Y/N shook her head adamantly. "No, I wanna know you. Get to know you."

Jensen nodded. "Good."

He took a quick sip of his whiskey and then set it down beside her. "Then, guard that, will ya? And I'll be back in ten minutes max, and then maybe we can get some fresh air? You look like you could use it."

Y/N nodded in relief. "Yes." She said quietly. He reached out and squeezed her hand before striding off to disappear through yet another door.

Y/N stood awkwardly by the bar, occasionally making eye contact with someone and quickly looking away. Angela seemed to be the only person who's eye she couldn't catch, mainly because she was in a lip lock with the drummer.

Thankfully Jensen was as good as his word, because ten minutes hadn't passed before he returned.

His hair was wet from the shower now, and he wore a clean white t-shirt and pair of black jeans. He looked utterly scrumptious.

He picked up his glass and took a sip before smiling at Y/N. "Thanks for keeping it safe for me."

She shrugged. "I live to serve." She frowned at her stupid response and wanted to take it back, but Jensen chuckled and thumbed towards the ceiling.

"So there's a rooftop patio if you don't mind climbing a couple flights of stairs."

Y/N nodded. "Okay."

He place his big, warm palm on her lower back, guiding her through the room and making a shiver run up her spine from where he touched her.

As they left, she still couldn't get Angela's attention, so Y/N just took out her phone and sent her a text to let her know where she was so she wouldn't worry.

If she even noticed.

After walking up a couple flights of stairs, Jensen pushed through a metal door and they emerged onto the rooftop. There were a few tables and chairs set up, as well as a very comfortable looking, if slightly worn, leather couch. It was sitting inside a big canvas tent - likely to keep it from getting ruined if it rained.

There were a few other people sitting around the tables chatting quietly. A cool but gentle breeze blew and Y/N sucked in a big breath of it, exhaling slowly.

“Better?” Jensen asked, a smile in his voice.

Y/N nodded. “Much, thank you.”

“Good. You looked like you might pass out if we didn't relocate quickly. Even in the autograph line you looked a bit shell-shocked by everything.”

He was smiling but Y/N felt her cheeks get warm. Had she really looked so stunned and out of it standing there?

“No, I was…I mean I loved it. The show. You're so…you were so good.”

She wanted to scream at herself for using such an uninspired word. "Good" didn’t really describe the experience of watching him command the stage and hold every single person there in the palm of his hand. 

H

But he just nodded. “Thanks. Glad you enjoyed yourself.”

“I really did.” She said trying to imbue more of her true excitement into her words.

Without discussing it, they wandered over to the couch, and set their drinks on the small table beside it.

“So, what do you do, Y/N?” Jensen asked as they sat down.

Their conversation was slightly stilted for the first little while, which was completely down to her. She was trying, but her words tended to be choppy and stiff as she second guessed everything that came out of her mouth and awkwardly tried to explain away her awkwardness…which in turn caused things to be…awkward.

Slowly but surely, though, as a couple of hours went by, Jensen pulled her out of her shell - charmed her out of it, really. He was funny and warm and his calm demeanor and patient, understanding vibe eventually made her feel relaxed and happy. Soon they were sitting close together, talking about when he’d started playing the guitar.

“I was about six.”

“Six?” Y/N asked incredulously. “Could you even hold onto the guitar at six?”

Jensen chuckled. “Amazingly, yes. And it was good I started young cause you need years of practice to build up good calluses on your fingers.”

Jensen picked up her hand, turning it palm up in his.

He clicked his tongue and shook his head like he was disappointed, but his voice was soft and teasing. “Could never make a guitar player out of you with these soft hands.”

He ran his fingertips over her smooth palm before raising it slowly to his lips. He placed a small kiss there and Y/N's stomach fluttered and her heart beat fast. Her breath was shaky and shallow as Jensen shifted his gaze to her mouth. He let go of her hand to cup her cheek and run his thumb across her bottom lip.

“Its got me wondering if your lips are just as soft.”

Y/N swallowed loudly and shocked herself with her response.

“You can check if you want.”

“Thanks, I think I will.” Jensen said with a wicked grin as he lowered his head, breathing softly against her lips. The whiskey on his breath made her dizzy, or maybe it was his scent surrounding her again. Either way her heart was pounding and her lower belly tightened almost painfully.

Jensen pressed his lips to hers and they were soft like silk, but warmer. Before he could even press his tongue to her lips, she opened up inviting him in immediately. Jensen groaned quietly as he slid his tongue inside. He tasted like whiskey and mint and she was instantly starving for him. 

He kissed her senseless for several minutes, pulling gasps and groans out of her easily. He began to let his hands roam as he moved his lips down the side of her neck and Y/N let out a soft, breathless cry, throwing her head back as his big hand palmed her breast through her t-shirt.

Her mind whirled as he laid waste to her senses. She couldn't believe any of this was happening, but she chalked it up to a vivid dream, and she refused to do anything that might derail it. So she urged him on as he let his hands reach up under her shirt to squeeze her lace-covered breast and tease her skin where it swelled above her bra.

“Yes, god, your hands feel so fantastic.”

“Mmm…” Jensen moaned as he licked her pulse point. “Calluses aren't too rough? Cause, fuck baby, you’re soft all over.”

Y/N shook her head. “No, I like them rough.”

Jensen pulled his hands out of her shirt and sat up slightly, making Y/N whine at the loss of his hands pressing firmly into her flesh.

He nodded sideways towards the tent opening. “Should I close that?”

Y/N remembered suddenly that there were people at the tables barely thirty feet away. She was surprised to find she didn't actually care that they would likely hear them and guess what was going on inside their little enclosure. 

She nodded at Jensen and he rose quickly, pulling the sides of the canvas together and tying them closed.

He moved back towards her, but instead of sitting beside her again, he pressed his hands into the back of the couch on either side of her shoulders and rested a knee on the seat between her legs. He hovered over her for a moment, fixing her with a stare that made her toes curl, just as it had when he looked at her the same way during the concert.

Her voice was hoarse with desire when she spoke.

“Was I imagining things, or did you notice me in the audience tonight.” It was a bold question, and ordinarily she wouldn't have the courage to ask it. But the look of heat and need on Jensen’s face as he stared at her so intensely made her feel fearless.

He shook his head in answer to her question. “No, you weren't imagining it. You were just so beautiful, you snagged my attention and made it hard to look away. Your expression was so wide-eyed and sweet.”

He leaned down a little and kissed her softly. “You sure you're okay being here with me, sweetheart? I don't wanna pressure you into anything.”

Y/N was shaking her head before he'd even finished his sentence; she spoke loudly as she desperately tried to reassure him. 

“No, trust me. I wanna be here. So much wanna be here. Never in a million years would I have thought that I WOULD be here. Like, if you'd asked me which was more likely to happen tonight…aliens descending from the sky in hot pink convertibles to take over the world, or me having sex with Jensen Ackles, I can tell you I would have been looking for our alien overlords.”

Jensen looked slightly bemused at her rambling. “Wow.”

Y/N blushed. “Sorry, I’m quiet to start, but once you get me going, I can be pretty loud.”

A slow, sexy mile spread across Jensen’s face and Y/N blushed a deeper red. “Sorry, that sounded a lot dirtier than I meant it.”

Jensen shook his head, still hovering over her, trapping her between his arms braced against the couch. 

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. I like dirty.” He kissed her softly. “I like sweet too. They make a pretty incredible combination"

He pulled back from her and slowly lowered himself down till he was on his knees in front of her. “Just two things.” He said, raising two fingers. “One - I’m just confirming that you did in fact say you were going to have sex with Jensen Ackles, right? That wasn’t me just hearing what I wanted to hear?”

Y/N laughed breathlessly. “No, you heard right; there's no way I wanna stop at just a make out session.”

Jensen bit his lip, and his gaze smoldered hot enough to burn her to a crisp. As a result, her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke. 

“And what’s the second thing?”

“I just wanted to tell you that, when I make you scream my name? You don't have to call me Jensen Ackles. Just Jensen works.” He smiled mischievously. "Course, 'Oh Daddy!' works too.” 

He shrugged. “I’m easy.”

He winked at her and Y/N felt her breath leave her body as he pushed her t-shirt up a bit and began to lick and nibble at her stomach, before he pulled it all the way off and tossed it aside, leaning forward to gently bite her nipple through her lacy bra.

Y/N shivered and stifled a moan. He slid his hands around to her back, unhooking her bra, which she pulled off. Keeping his strong hands pressed into her upper back, Jensen held her in place while he licked her nipple into his mouth, sucking on it hard before letting it go so he could flick the tip of his tongue against it.

He paid the same attention to her other breast and then alternated back and forth between the two. Soon her breasts were heavily marked with small purple bruises he’d sucked into existence. 

He let go of her so she fell back against the couch, as he deftly unbuttoned her jeans, and slid his fingers under the waistband to pull them down. He nodded to her. 

“Lift?”

She obliged and he slid her jeans over her hips and down her legs. He quickly pulled off her shoes and then took her jeans all the way off. He ran his big, calloused palms up and down her thighs and she trembled. 

Everything still seemed a bit surreal, and the sensations he was evoking in her only made it seem more likely that she was dreaming. Outside of her own imagination, she never thought she’d feel this kind of thrumming need run throughout her body.

He spread her legs wide with his broad shoulders as he settled between her them. He pushed her panties to the side so he could lean forward to teasingly touch the tip of his tongue to her clit. He swirled it there for a moment, making her buck her hips and push her hand into his hair. It was still slightly damp from his shower, but incredibly soft between her fingers.

Jensen spoke and his breath was hot, even against her burning skin. “God damn, baby, you really are too sweet.” He said licking his lips. 

He paused to slide her panties down and off of her, and then quickly buried his face in her cunt. She yanked hard on his hair, surging up against his lips and clamping her thighs tight to his ears. He wrapped his arms around her legs and pried them open again, holding them in place, while never once stopping his oral onslaught.

His tongue was magic, his mouth was heaven. Pure. Heaven.

He quickly had her on the brink of climaxing, but he pulled away, making her gasp in dismay. “Please, Jensen…” She begged, tugging a little on his hair and trying to direct his mouth back to her. 

“Patience baby.” He cooed against her thigh as he nibbled on it. “Just let me take care of you, just let yourself feel it.”

She could definitely feel it. Blood pulsed in her throbbing clit and her muscles shook with her need. Still Jensen just teased her, sucking more marks into her inner thighs and occasionally lapping his tongue through her slick folds, making her jolt upward as though she’d been electrocuted.

Finally, when she was whimpering quietly and begging him to end the pleasurable torture, she felt his thick middle finger slide through her folds, teasing her clit briefly before pushing inside her slowly. 

“God! Fuck!” She moaned as Jensen added a finger and stretched her open.  

“That’s it, baby.” He said as he began to feel her walls flutter and tighten around him. “Come for me now.”

Proving he had complete control of her body, Y/N felt him press against the spongy spot inside her and she immediately followed his command and came fast and hard, clamping down on his fingers. He stopped pumping them, keeping them buried inside her, pressing on her g-spot over and over again, bringing on two more orgasms in quick succession.

As she was laying there trembling like Jello and recovering from her third orgasm, Jensen stood up, stripped off his shirt and yanked down his jeans and underwear. Her slightly blurry vision cleared immediately and she quickly focused on his cock, semi-hard and jutting out from his body. 

Without even thinking about it, she just melted off of the couch and onto her knees, leaning forward to suck his tip into her mouth. 

“Unf - fuuuck.’ Jensen groaned, drawing out the word. 

He pushed his fingers through her hair, so that he could cup the back of her head with his hand. He slowly pushed her further down his dick before making a fist in her hair and pulling her off of him just as slowly. 

She gasped as she came off of him, spit and cum keeping them linked. He took hold of himself with his free hand and tapped his cock against her lips. 

“Open up, sweetheart. I wanna see you stuffed full of my cock while you look up at me with those beautiful eyes, gone all wild and needy.”

Y/N moaned and opened her mouth immediately to let him push further down her throat. Her eyes watered and saliva dripped out of the corners of her mouth as she looked up at him, and began moving up and down his thick cock. 

He guided her head as she bobbed on his dick, and praised her with disjointed compliments. 

“Fuck, Y/N, yes. So fucking perfect. You’re doing so good, baby…just…fuck me! Just like tha-” 

His words cut off with a deep guttural groan as she slid slowly off his dick, hollowing her cheeks and sucking hard.

He threw his head back, and she could see sweat glistening on his neck. His face was contorted in pleasure and his teeth were sunk into his bottom lip, making her clit start to throb at the sight of him.

He whimpered slightly as she popped off of him. “God, baby!” He said, pushing her back down his length, even though he was shaking his head. “You gotta stop now or I’m gonna come down your throat and I’m way too desperate to ruin that fucking pussy for that.”

He tugged her off of him again and he helped her up off her knees, pulling her close against him so she could feel his burning skin against her own. She ran her fingers across his wide chest and over his flat belly, sighing as he slotted his mouth over hers to kiss her deeply.

She could taste herself on his tongue, overriding the whiskey, and it made her pussy clench just thinking about everything that very talented tongue had done to her.

Finally he pulled away and cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb across her lips and then pushing it inside, pumping it shallowly. He raised an eyebrow. 

“How do you want it, baby? I can put you on your knees on the couch and fuck you from behind, or bend you over. Or you can sit in my lap and ride me; I can lay you down beneath me and just bury myself in you so deep.”

His voice felt like warm chocolate and was just as delicious. Y/N nearly stopped breathing as she contemplated her choices. 

He pulled his thumb out of her mouth as she finally she decided. “I just wanna be able to see you, that’s all I care about.”

Jensen kissed her again, soft and sweet, walking her backwards a few steps. He lowered her to the couch before following her down, placing a knee on either side of her hips. She looked up at him as he towered above her and felt a shiver of want run through her body. Her pussy was clenching painfully around nothing, desperate to have him inside her.

Taking hold of his cock, he pushed inside slowly; when he was about halfway in he stopped to give her time to adjust. He was very long, and very, very thick so she appreciated the time to get used to his size.

But very quickly she was desperate for more, pushing her heels into his thighs to urge him in deeper. When he was sunk into her completely he groaned and collapsed on her, holding some of his weight on his forearms, but still crushing her into the couch cushions, which felt absolutely incredible.

Then he began to move in and out of her in perfect rhythm, pumping his hips in long, fluid strokes. Y/N moaned deeply as she scored her nails across his shoulders. The action made him grit his teeth and increase his pace. She gripped the sides of his hips with her knees, her whole body tightening as he began pounding into her like a freight train. 

She was crying out in ecstasy seconds before her climax even hit. The feel of him ramming into her body so deep, making her breasts bounce with each thrust, was just too perfect, too incredible to hold back.

As she was coming down, he rubbed her clit in fast, tight circles with his middle finger, making her scream and fall over the edge again. She opened her eyes in time to see him throw his head back again, a harsh, prolonged groan ripped from his throat as he thrust deep one more time, and came inside her, flooding her cunt with warmth.

He shuddered a few times, hips bucking sporadically as he emptied into her completely before his muscles went slack and he crushed her even further into the couch.

She laid there, happily running her hands up and down his beautifully muscled back until he pushed his torso up so he rested on one elbow, looking down at her, and pushing her sweaty hair back from her forehead.

“How you doing, sweetheart.”

Y/N nodded dreamily.  “So good. Like…SO good.” She emphasized, making Jensen chuckle.

“Good.” He said, kissing her lips briefly. He shifted their position so that he laid with his back against the couch, stretched out on his side. He pulled Y/N back to spoon against him, tucking her head under his chin and offering his bicep as a pillow.

He nuzzled against her ear. “You were amazing, Y/N. This was amazing. I gotta admit when you ordered the bottle of water, I wondered if maybe you were just a bit too sweet for me.” He teased, chuckling low in her ear and making her stomach tighten pleasantly again.

Y/N reached over her head to grab his glass of whiskey. “Definitely not.” She said, arching a brow and taking a sip. The liquor burnt a path down her throat and she started coughing and choking almost instantly. Jensen calmly took the glass out of her hand and handed her the bottle of water.

His eyes danced and his smile was wicked as he watched her gulp down the water. “So, it might be a while before you’re ready to drink whiskey neat, but we can start with like, a wine cooler?”

She wheezed at him. “Good plan.” 

He laughed softly before lowering his mouth to hers and sucking the whiskey from her lips.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

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Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

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Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

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[centrally-unplanned]

To talk about monopoly & antitrust, I want to start off with your first day in Econ 101, when you learn "how prices work". The toy model that nearly everyone learns as one of the first things ever is that classic supply-and-demand graph of price and quantity; you know it, I don't need to show it. And in relation to how firms set price in a market, the explanation you get is something like:

"In a world with perfect information, zero transaction costs, rational agents, and no barriers to entry, new firms and/or increased output will enter the market until marginal price equals marginal cost"

This (seemingly) portrays a model where new companies "entering the market" is how prices go down. Like say there are Firms A, B, and C, engaging in oligopolistic pricing for a normal good; what happens is some new Firm X (with the same production costs) emerges with the sole business strategy of "offer prices lower than them because they are skimming" and it drives everyone's prices down in a race to the bottom. That, in a sense, competition between identical firms drives the price equilibrium.

That isn't very true, not in practice and not even theoretically; the 101 stuff just sort of biases you to see it that way. Firm X above is being rational in one way but silly in others; why would it enter a market where its competitors are making healthy profits just to fuck that up, knowing it has no advantage they can't immediately replicate in response? And pay all the fixed costs other firms have already paid to make that 0.1% profit? In real life firms almost never do this, they compete over (actual or perceived) advantage or market segmentation. And it also means that - if all firms are truly the same in a market - cooperating on price, far from being aberrant behavior, is the natural thing to do. Why would I look at my rival firm and lower my price to "undercut" them, knowing that they 100% can just lower it too? We both lose, immediately. In practice, companies often set their prices by looking at the prices of competing firms and matching them!

Many things actually drive the price equilibrium of course, but one of the biggest - and most useful for our purposes - is the substitution effect. If companies defacto cooperate on prices all the time, why is the price not infinity? Well because if you are selling steaks and set the price to infinity, I'm not gonna buy it! I can just buy chicken, for me it's pretty much the same. And chicken is cheaper to make than steak. As a chicken firm, I totally can set my price under your steak and you can never, ever match it; that is a real advantage, one from asymmetries of production. The price of steak is driven by the need to compete with chicken much more than it is driven by the need to compete with "other steaks". And so on down a chain of a million desires and costs and needs.

So to wrap this around to antitrust, there is a common idea out there that monopolistic pricing is increasing from the past because if I look at different industries, so many of them today are consolidated into 2-3 big firms. Your grocery stores are all Giant or Safeway or w/e it is in your city, if you are buying a TV Samsung & LG are half the entire US market. How could these companies not collude on price? Of course they do, and they don't need explicit agreements that would violate extant FTC regulations to do it; they can just softly communicate and feel out cooperation. So you gotta break them up and change the rules so they can't do that.

The trap is thinking this is any different if it was 10 firms - it really isn't! Maybe marginally, sure, and if it was 2000 firms yeah okay the sheer chaos would probably create some price churn; but in the past prices were not driven down by the diversity of firms making price cooperation impossible. The long history of guilds, business associations, chambers of commerce, and so on shows that they had plenty of avenues for cooperation - and often did straight-up set prices. Meanwhile, when Wal-Mart, Target, Aldi, and others all cut prices at around the same time, they are not mainly competing with each other. If they were they would just mutually agree to not do that, without even saying anything! How stupid do you think they are? That isn't hard to do. Instead they are competing with Amazon; with boutique local stores; with restaurants; with the changing price of labor; with shifting consumer sentiment and expectations. The industry concentration doesn't matter.

Until it does of course! Because what is the substitution good for oil? They exist of course, but they ain't cheap; people will still buy gas at gigantic ranges of prices. Here, the fundamental structure of the market is monopolistic - and also a geopolitical clusterfuck, but let's not get into that. Producers openly rig prices sometimes, and antitrust actively regulates against it, and it is a hot mess of governments and companies and all that. Are people who hold patents engaging in monopoly pricing? Obviously, that is the point of patents! It is by design; but there are tons of arguments to be made around creeping exploitation of the IP system. Sometimes hundreds of firms in a dominant market niche will offer complex, bundled products where the price of each piece of obfuscated and the value is subjective, but consensus is you can't not buy the product or you will be screwed and since you can't tell what the product even is, let alone how valuable it is, you can't object when they set the price - I hear these are called "universities", but they go by other names in other sectors.

All of the above are something like "monopolies", which maybe are getting worse over time, but they are monopolies for different, product-specific reasons. I think there is a good deal of FTC work and other reforms that could be done in the US to identify areas where this kind of rent extraction is happening. But what it doesn't look like is opposing blanket industry consolidation. And in fact the correlation is honestly pretty weak. Because identical firm competition does not drive the price equilibrium.

[vitalverstappen]

Under the Mistletoe - F. Colapinto

summary: forced into a night of civility for the sake of your best friends, you try to ignore the small sparks and the insufferably charming man you loathe the most

pairing: Franco Colapinto x enemy!reader

warnings: drinking?

word count: 1.9k

masterlist

It was supposed to be a fun, low-key holiday party, nothing out of the ordinary. That’s what you had convinced yourself of when your best friends invited you. You were looking forward to the usual chaos of bad holiday music, gifts, and way too much eggnog. 

What you hadn’t accounted for, however, was Franco. 

Of all the people your friends could have invited, of course, it had to be him. Franco Colapinto. The man that had spent months getting under your skin, never missing an opportunity to make your blood boil. Whether it was his smug grin or his ridiculously overconfident attitude, there was no end to your mutual dislike.

And now you had to pretend that everything was fine because your best friends were dating, and the two of you had been thrown into this holiday get-together to avoid drama. 

You stood in the corner of the living room, trying to avoid eye contact with him as you took another sip from your drink. The fire crackled in the fireplace, people chatting around you, and yet, Franco’s presence felt like a storm cloud hanging overhead. 

You could practically feel his gaze on you from across the room, even though you refused to look in his direction. He was talking to someone, laughing with that all-too-familiar arrogant tone of his, and it made your skin crawl just listening to it. 

But when he finally turned his head and locked eyes with you, you didn’t have time to look away. He gave you that infuriating, lazy smirk.

“You know,” he began as he walked over to you, his voice dripping with that unmistakable cockiness. “I didn’t think you’d actually show up.” 

You couldn’t help but scoff, already irritated before you even had a chance to respond. “I didn’t have much of a choice, did I? The adorable little lovebirds insisted.” 

Franco chuckled, shaking his head. “You could’ve easily made up some excuse. But you didn’t. You’re just here to see what kind of trouble you can get into, aren’t you?” 

“Maybe I am” you shot back, raising an eyebrow. “It’s not like you are any fun to be around.”

Franco leaned against the wall, still watching you, his eyes glinting mischievously. “You know, you’re a lot more fun when you’re angry.” 

“I’m sure you’d love that,” you retorted, putting down your cup with a little too much force. You crossed your arms, looking anywhere but at him, but the whole situation was making you feel tense and restless. 

Franco stood there for a moment longer, before glancing around the room. “Fine, let’s get this over with. For them.” He nodded over to your friends, who were clearly oblivious to the tension between you.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re really not that charming, Franco. You don’t have to pretend to be nice to me for their sake.”

“Oh, I know,” he said, his smirk still present. “I just think you look cute when you’re angry.”

Your stomach did a strange flip, and you tried to ignore it. “Keep it up, and I’ll make sure you regret this whole ‘play nice’ thing.” 

The night went on, and you begrudgingly found yourself having to engage in conversation with Franco more than you would have liked. The forced politeness felt strange, but over time, it turned into something unexpected. Every now and then, a laugh would escape, and the annoyance you’d felt earlier began to fade, replaced with something warmer, something unexpected. Franco wasn’t as unbearable as you once thought. In fact, you started noticing things, little quirks he had, like how he cared about his friends more than he let on, or how his smile softened when he spoke about his family. 

“Do you want another drink?” he asked, nodding his head to your cup. 

You looked down at the drink in your hands, only noticing it was empty at his words. A soft smile formed on your lips as you nodded “Just some punch if you don’t mind.” 

Franco raised an eyebrow, his smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Feeling festive?” 

You shrugged, trying to ignore the unexpected flutter of warmth that ran through you at the sight of his teasing expression. “What can I say, I need it to be civil tonight.” 

“Civility looks good on you,” he said, hsi tone softening just slightly, though it was still laced with that signature smugness. 

You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the faint blush creeping up your neck. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.” 

Franco let out a chuckle, and without a proper response, walked off towards the kitchen, weaving through the crowd. You watched him go, trying not to analyze why your heart was racing just a little faster. 

A few minutes later, he returned, handing you a cup full of punch. “One festive drink, as requested.”

You took the glass, your fingers brushing briefly against his, and you felt a sudden, inexplicable jolt of energy. You quickly pulled your hand away, trying to mask your reaction with a nonchalant sip from the cup. “Thanks,” you muttered, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“So, are we still pretending to hate each other?” Franco asked, leaning against the wall beside you. His voice was casual, but there was a hint of something deeper lurking beneath his words. 

You glanced at him, unsure of how to respond. It was hard to keep up the charade now that you were actually talking without the usual barbed remarks. “I’m not pretending to hate you,” you said finally, the words coming out more honest than you expected. “I just… don’t like you.” 

Franco raised an eyebrow, his gaze softening. “Fair enough. But you know,” he said, his voice quieter now, “It’s a lot harder to hate someone when you get to know them.” 

You looked at him, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. The usual cocky bravado had faded, and in its place was something almost…vulnerable? “Are you trying to be profound?” you teased, attempting to steer the conversation back to familiar ground. 

But instead of retaliating with another smart comment, Franco merely smirked, though there was a hint of something more serious behind his eyes. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just getting tired of pretending I don’t care.” 

You blinked, momentarily unsure how to respond. There was no way this was the same man who had spent months getting under your skin. It wasn’t possible that the arrogant, insufferable guy who had always been just one step away from getting a rise out of you could be the same person standing in front of you now. There was something different about him tonight. 

Before you could say anything else, a loud shout from across the room interrupted, followed by your friends calling everyone over for a group photo. You felt a wave of relief wash over you at the distraction. The last thing you wanted was to be alone with Franco, not when you were starting to wonder if you weren’t as immune to him as you’d like to believe. 

As the evening progressed, the tension seemed to ease between you, and before you knew it, you were actually talking, laughing, enjoying each other’s company. It was almost too natural.

By the time the party started winding down, you realized that the animosity between you and Franco wasn’t so easy to keep up anymore. He found you leaning up against the doorframe that separated the kitchen to the living room as you watched some of the guests trickle out. 

“Any reason you’re standing right there?” he asked, his voice softer now as he looked above you

You followed his gaze, where sure enough, a small mistletoe was tacked into the doorframe. A quiet sigh escaped your lips as your cheeks heated up yet again. Of course it had to be there. 

You raised an eyebrow, “You really wanna kiss me under the mistletoe?” 

Franco shrugged, giving you a teasing grin. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing that’s happened tonight.” 

You stared at him for a long moment, trying to keep the tough exterior, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew he wasn’t entirely wrong. Things had shifted between you over the course of the night, and maybe it wasn’t all as terrible as you had originally thought. 

You let out a breath and stepped forward, surprising both him and yourself. Franco’s eyes widened for a split second, clearly caught off guard by your movement. For a moment, the room around you seemed to fade away, and all that mattered was the space between you and him. The playful banter, the tension, everything led to this moment.

You stood there, close enough to feel the heat from his body, but just out of reach. Your heart was racing, but you tried to hold your ground. “You really want this?” you asked, your voice lower than you intended, more vulnerable that you’d ever expected to sound around him. 

Franco looked at you, his grin softening, the teasing in his eyes replaced by something genuine. “I’ve wanted it for a while now,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper as he took a small step closer.

You froze for a moment, unable to process the shift in the atmosphere. There was something in the way he was looking at you now, something raw that made it impossible to deny the pull between you. 

You didn’t know what to say. His words had stripped away all of the defenses you’d spent so much time building up, and suddenly, you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do anymore. 

So, instead of saying anything, you stepped closer. Without thinking, you cupped his face in your hands, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver down your spine. His breath hitched as your eyes locked for one long moment before you closed the space between you, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was softer than you expected. 

For a moment, neither of you moved, as if both of you were waiting for confirmation that this was real. Then, as if the floodgates had opened, the kiss deepened, more urgent, more alive than anything you had imagined. The tension, the frustration, the lingering bitterness from months of disliking each other, all melted away in that kiss. 

When you finally pulled back, you were both breathless, standing there under the mistletoe, with the world around you seemingly on pause. Your heart was pounding, but it didn’t feel like you needed to run from him. 

Franco’s smile was less of a smirk than it had been all night. It was much more genuine. “Well,” he said, breathless, “that was definitely the best thing that’s happened tonight.” 

You laughed, the sound a little shaky, but you couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face. “Yeah, I guess it was.” you said, your voice full of something you hadn’t expected to feel. 

Franco looked at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours again, as if trying to make sense of the sudden change. “So… where do we go from here?” 

You shrugged, your heart still racing, but the answer felt simpler than you expected. “One step at a time, Franco.” 

He chuckled softly, taking a step back, but not out of read. “I can handle that.”

“There’s a pub down the way if you wanna get out of here.” You suggested, not wanting the night to end just yet. 

Franco’s eyebrows lifted slightly at the suggestion, his playful grin returning, though softer. “I’d love to,” he said as he offered his arm in a mockingly formal gesture. “Shall we?” 

You laughed, shaking your head, but took it anyway. “We shall.” 

[sserpente]

A/N: I’ve been meaning to write this for so long. If you’re in the mood for some angst, you’re in the right place!

Words: 1743 Warnings: angst, poisoning

You didn’t know what hurt more. Was it the fact that the man—god—you had fallen for was on the brink of death, taking his last breaths? Or was it the very circumstance that no one but you cared?

Tony Stark had been very clear about it. He tolerated Loki only per Thor’s humble request. The God of Thunder himself was less than pleased that the Trickster was to serve his sentence on Earth of all places. It was Odin’s magic that restricted him, keeping him from causing even more mayhem after the chaos he unleashed in New York City.

They were even less delighted about him joining their self-proclaimed superhero group on missions even though Thor himself claimed that Loki’s wit and skills could prove useful.

You had nothing to say in the matter of course. If anything, you were declared crazy because you had expressed your affinity for the God of Mischief and that included Loki himself.

You couldn’t help it. The way he smirked, the way he talked, the way he sat in the corner buried in a book—one of the very few instances you ever saw him relaxed, not to mention the occurrence with the cat… oh, the cat. A stray—black and white, young, purring and dancing around Loki’s feet, desperate for his attention. And when he’d bent down to pet it and even conjured some food for it, it was the last piece of evidence you had needed to conclude that this man was not evil. Misguided, betrayed, hurt? Yes, all of those things and more. But not evil.

It was the latter. The very circumstance that no one but you cared hurt more.

Thor had left for Asgard already, seeking the advice of their healers. It was ridiculous, truly. In a life-threatening emergency like this, how could his banishment still hold any weight? He needed help.

Your enemy had been thorough, researching each and everyone’s greatest weakness. And Loki’s had proved the most fatal. Whatever the extra-terrestrial had coated their weapon in before it fired its arrow at the God of Mischief, it prevented him from healing, had him break out in a sweat and slowly lose a battle against the poison now spreading in his body.

“Loki? Can you hear me? Please stay with me. You got to stay awake, alright?” He was on the sofa, with his head placed in your lap. You stroked his forehead in an attempt to soothe him. Blue eyes found yours and you were unsure whether he wanted to tell you to stay with him or let him die in peace. You’d been singing to him too. Trying to keep him in the present, in the now.

By the time Thor finally burst back into the room, Loki’s breathing had become dangerously shallow.

“Did you tell them about the symptoms? What did they say? What’s wrong with him? How are we gonna heal him?” The questions gushed out of you like a waterfall before he’d even set his hammer down.

Thor, however, grew silent for a moment. “There… Loki was poisoned. The rat knew what he was doing. The arrow was likely infused with blood from a Memphis of Muspelheim mixed with a deadly dose of mistletoe essence.”

You put one and one together immediately. “So… you’re saying this poison was specifically made to kill a Frost Giant?”

Thor looked down. “Yes.”

“Well, did you bring the antidote then?”

“There… there is no antidote. Not on Asgard. And I fear… there is no time to search the realms. The Jötuns have spent millennia destroying every last drop of this poison. There is hardly any antidote left.”

Your heart sank. No… no! You were not going to let Loki die!

“There has to be a way. Somewhere we can…” Your lips parted. “There is somebody. Someone who has everything. You mentioned him before, you said you brought the Aether to him!”

“The Collector?”

“He has it. He must have it.”

“What, and you think he will give it to you without anything in return?” Tony said.

“I didn’t say that. I’m sure we can offer him something in return to make it worth his while.” You turned back to Thor. “Heimdall can take us there. Please, Thor. This might be our only chance.”

Perhaps you should have been surprised that the God of Thunder relented. There was no doubt he too wanted his brother to survive. The entire time you’d been preparing to leave, Thor was brooding and lost in thought. He wasn’t one for big words—but he cared and for the moment, that was good enough for you.

The Collector’s place was dimly lit, eerily quiet and… it smelled awful. You took a deep breath regardless and gave a nod to Thor to venture forth.

“An Asgardian. And… a human?” The Collector tilted his head when you stepped into view. “What an… honour. What brings you to my humble domain?”

“We need your help. We’re looking for something rare. Thor’s brother Loki is Jötun and he’s been shot with an arrow drenched in a rare poison.”

“Hmm… yes, I’m familiar.”

“There is no antidote. If… if anyone has any left, it must be you.”

“So it must be… I do indeed have this antidote you speak of.” Your face lit up but judging by the Collector’s body language—a smug and repulsive expression, truly—he was not going to give it up easily.

“Surely, your Asgardian friend has told you of how the Jötuns have ensured every last drop of this poison gets destroyed. There was a need for an antidote no longer. The bottle that I have in my collection is… an antique, almost.”

“Fine,” you spat. “What do you want in return?”

“You see… I’ve never had a human in my collection.”

Your eyes widened, lips parting to respond.

“No!” Thor roared.

“Then I am afraid we have reached a dead end.”

“She’s not an object to be collected, she’s a person!”

“Thor!” Gnashing your teeth, you turned to him and took a deep breath. “It’s fine. Just take the antidote to Loki, alright?”

“No. There has to be another way.”

“Take the damn antidote to him, Thor!”

“I cannot let you do this.”

“You can and you will. He’s your brother, Thor! And I’m…” I’m in love with him. Heavens, was that stupid? Loki didn’t even know. It was absurd, wasn’t it? To sacrifice your own life in this way to see the God of Mischief live another day?

Yes. It was. But it… it felt like the right thing to do. Loki deserved another shot. A chance to redeem himself, to show the world that he was more than he let on. And a chance to have the damn world apologise to him, too.

“Tell him… tell him to live his best life, okay? Tell him… tell him not to be too harsh on himself. To… to love himself.”

“To love himself?” Thor frowned.

“Shut up and listen. Loki hates himself, don’t you see that? He hates what he is, he hates what he’s become. He hates himself. And you all played a part in that.”

“Why would you do this… for him?”

Your lips parted. “Tell him… tell him I fell for him.” There. You’d said it. But it didn’t matter anymore whether he’d reject you, right? You’d be here, wherever here was and Loki would be back on Earth, recovering. You’d never have to face his reaction after your confession and yet, he could live with the knowledge that he was not, in fact, so terrible, that no one could love him beyond a family bond like the one he shared with Thor.

“I… fine. I will. Mark my words, I will come back for you,” he added quietly.

You nodded. Was there hope? Possibly. Possibly not. But you did not doubt for a second that your sacrifice was worth it.

You didn’t know how many days had gone by since Thor’s departure. One? Three? Ten? There was no sunlight in this place, no clocks. One of the Collector’s lackeys made sure to feed you regularly at least, other than that… you were on your own, caged in a pretty glass box until he figured out what to do with you. Unless of course… he was just going to keep you on display like this like the maniac he was.

If you didn’t know better, you would have asked him for a book. Surely he had some in his collection. It was boredom and solitude that would drive you mad sooner or later, that much you were sure of.

Every sound nearby became more interesting than the next. The cracking of the metal tiles, the flapping of wings of the caged bird opposite your own stupid box, the ruffling of clothing whenever you moved… a massive explosion forcing everything in its vicinity several feet into the air. Wait, what?

Your eyes widened and you stood. Were you under attack? Oh heavens, no, you didn’t want to be killed inside of a glass box! Would there be another explosion? What if the cage broke and you bled to death because of the shards piercing your body?

Chaos erupted, yet the Collector was nowhere to be seen. A scream escaped your lips when with a start, a figure appeared right before your cage, remnants of green shimmering light enveloping them whole. It took you a moment to realise that it was Loki.

“My… that is quite the predicament you have landed yourself in, pet.”

“I… w-what? Loki… you’re alive, you’re fine. What are you doing here?” Unable to process what was happening, you inched back when the God of Mischief broke the lock and opened the cage for you to climb out. Electricity rippled through you when he took your hand in his.

“Rescuing you, of course.” His sly smirk had you gasping for air as you leaned against him. Your knees and legs hurt from having to sit for so long.

“Thor told me what you did.”

“Did he also tell you…”

Loki nodded. Without another word, he leaned forward and stole a chaste kiss, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

“Come. The others are waiting on the ship. And then, my dear, I shall show you the proper Asgardian way of courting a woman.”

You smiled, relief flooding your entire body as he picked you up and carried you home.