#And I internally had to pause and realize that no.

[1982grapejuiceblues]

The Lingering I

Official Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2

The Wrong Pitch Part 3

Summary: In the quiet aftermath of their almost, Harry and Y/N navigate the silence of what wasn’t said. Through unsent drafts, pacing thoughts, and overthought messages, one of them finally reaches out — and the other answers. It isn’t grand. It isn’t dramatic. It’s careful. Intentional. Honest. And it’s enough to change everything.

A/N: AHHHHH These two are back!! I really love this story and the slowburn of it, The Lingering is going to be at least three parts, I have it all written out its just the editing that takes FOREVER. I do it in batches though so thats how I'm able to upload these so quickly! Let me know what you guys think so far!

Warning: Anxiety spiraling / overthinking | Emotional hesitation and vulnerability | Unsent texts and delayed communication | Fear of saying the wrong thing | Internalized self-doubt | Extended emotional tension (but no conflict) | Slow pacing, realism-focused inner monologues | No physical intimacy (just yearning and care)

Word Count: 3.5k

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Saturday — 6:42 p.m. — Y/N’s Flat

Y/N didn’t turn on the lights when she walked in.

She didn’t like the way switches filled the room too fast. There was something about the soft, creeping dusk she preferred — the natural fade of light across her hardwood floor, the dim orange glow of a streetlamp just starting to warm the sidewalk outside her window. It gave her time to land. To figure out who she was again, alone, after being something else in someone else’s company.

She slipped her shoes off one by one, the way she always did — toe to heel, heel to toe — and left them by the door. Her coat slid down her shoulders in a single movement, familiar, practiced, and landed on the hook like it had been trained to return there.

Everything about her flat was warm and quiet and intentionally hers.

Usually, she liked that.

But right now, it felt a little too quiet. A little too much like a place that expected her to think.

She padded into the kitchen and turned on the kettle out of instinct. Not because she wanted tea — not yet — but because she didn’t know what else to do with her hands. She moved slowly, methodically: mug, spoon, tea bag, water. Not committing to it, just lining up the options.

She wasn’t hungry.

She wasn’t tired.

She just felt… untethered.

The moment she sat down on the couch, the silence hit her square in the chest.

It wasn’t harsh. But it was immediate.

The kind of quiet that creeps in when you realize someone else’s presence had taken up more space than you thought. That Harry had taken up space — not just in her periphery, but in her head. Her day. Her body, somehow. Like his voice had carved out a rhythm and her breath was still matching it.

She hated how much she noticed the absence.

She hated even more that it didn’t feel like an absence at all — just a… pause.

A question mark.

She reached for her phone almost reflexively. Unlocked it. Didn’t open anything yet.

She stared at the home screen for a few seconds, as if some app she hadn’t downloaded yet would offer a solution.

Then, slowly, deliberately, she tapped into the message thread.

Harry Styles.

The name felt strange every time she saw it written out. A person who had once been a complete stranger — someone with a name that meant nothing to her, just a man sitting at the wrong table — was now… something else. Undefined. Quietly insistent.

A presence she couldn’t unfeel.

She scrolled up.

Read what she had sent. What he had sent back. The part where it stopped.

Thank you for saying that.

I was scared too.

Still am.

But I’d rather be scared with you than wonder if we missed it.

That last line hit her harder than she expected. Again.

She had read it before. She’d felt it earlier, in the booth, in the quiet between them. But here, in her flat, in the silence of her own space, it felt sharper. Heavier. More true.

And still, she hadn’t answered him.

She opened the keyboard.

Typed:

Are you home?

Deleted it.

Typed:

I haven’t stopped thinking about earlier.

Deleted that, too.

Tried again:

I want to see you again.

Her thumb hovered.

She knew what that meant.

She also knew she couldn’t send it yet.

Backspaced. Cleared the screen. Let her fingers rest over the glass.

What was she doing?

Why was this so hard?

She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, hands clasped around her phone like it might reveal something if she just held it tight enough.

And then she whispered it out loud — just to herself, in the soft, safe dark of her apartment:

“I liked being with you.”

The words surprised her. Not because they were true, but because of how much they meant. How heavy they sounded in her own voice. How simple they were, and yet how deeply they landed.

She rested her phone on the couch beside her. Let her hands fall into her lap. Stared out the window as the last of the daylight bled into blue.

She thought about the way he had looked at her when she walked into the café again.

Not surprised. Not alarmed.

Just… relieved.

Like she had made a choice he hadn’t wanted to ask her to make.

Like he had hoped — quietly, without pressure — that she would come back.

“You already are,” she had told him, when he said he wanted to show up.

That sentence had stayed with her all the way home. It was still here now, in the room, in her hands, in her mouth like a thing she might say again if he were sitting beside her.

But he wasn’t.

And she didn’t know when he would be.

Or if she’d be brave enough to ask.

7:09 p.m. — Harry’s Flat

Harry had stared at the same sentence for thirteen minutes.

It wasn’t even a complicated sentence.

It was just the close of a paragraph — something small and transitional. Something that should’ve taken thirty seconds to finish and forget. But instead, it was sitting there like a brick in the middle of the page, daring him to make it sound like he believed it.

He leaned back in his chair and pressed his knuckles against his temples.

Focus.

The cursor blinked at him.

It wasn’t the writing. He could write. Had written better speeches than this one in worse conditions. It was the space he was writing from — the place in his head that felt suddenly unfamiliar. Crowded. Warmer than usual.

Full.

Which was ridiculous. They’d only seen each other again this afternoon. They hadn’t even kissed. Had barely touched. Had said maybe two sentences that could be considered emotionally intimate.

But God, the silence after?

It felt like it carried weight.

He pushed the chair back from the desk, stood up too quickly. Pacing helped. Usually.

He ran a hand through his hair and crossed the room toward the kitchen, trying to remember what he even came in for. Opened the fridge. Closed it again.

There was a time when a quiet Saturday night like this would’ve felt like relief. A long exhale. A moment to recharge.

But tonight, it felt like too much room.

Too much space to think about what he should’ve said when they were standing at her door.

Or what she hadn’t said.

Not in a way that made him second-guess her — he didn’t. He just knew that she was trying. That she was letting herself feel this in real time, and he didn’t want to be the reason she retreated.

He didn’t want to fill the space too quickly. But he didn’t want to leave it empty either.

He opened their text thread again. Not for the first time. Not even for the fifth.

It wasn���t that he expected anything new.

He just wanted to remember the way her words sounded.

Even when they were just black text on a white screen.

“I was scared too.”

“Still am.”

God, that had floored him.

Not because she’d said it — but because of how much he’d believed her.

He hadn’t had that in a long time. Someone honest enough to admit fear, but steady enough to still show up anyway.

He wanted to tell her that. Not poetically. Not dramatically. Just plainly. Just… truthfully.

But every draft he started felt like it leaned too hard in one direction — too casual or too intense. Too soon or too vague. Too much or not enough.

He hated how much he cared about getting the tone right.

He hated how much he wanted to get it right.

He sat back down at the desk. Pulled the laptop toward him. Tried to re-engage with the speech. Something about unity. Shared vision. The usual stuff.

But even those words felt hollow.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her — sitting on her couch right now, probably. Maybe drinking tea. Maybe overthinking this the same way he was.

And maybe she wasn’t.

Maybe she had already moved on from the softness of the afternoon. Maybe he was reading into something that had already cooled.

But then he remembered the look in her eyes when she walked through the café door.

The way she looked at him.

It wasn’t casual.

It wasn’t over.

It was something waiting.

He typed a new message.

Let it sit on the screen.

I’m not going to crowd you.

But I do want to see you again.

Read it. Reread it.

Then deleted it.

Too soon.

Or maybe not soon enough.

He stood up again and rubbed his palms over his face. Walked to the bookshelf. Pulled out the small notebook he kept on the second shelf, tucked behind the short story collections.

It was older. More scribbled than sorted. Just fragments, mostly — moments, half-thoughts, things he couldn’t shake.

He opened to the last blank page and scribbled one sentence.

I don’t want to be afraid of this before it even starts.

Then closed the notebook.

Slid it back into place.

Walked away from the desk and sat on the couch.

He didn’t touch his phone again for a long time.

But he didn’t stop thinking about her, either.

8:14 p.m. — Y/N’s Flat

She hadn’t moved in over twenty minutes.

She was still in her jeans. Still sitting at the edge of the couch. Still staring out the window like something might happen if she just stayed still long enough.

Her tea had gone cold.

She hadn’t touched it.

Didn’t even remember making it.

Everything around her looked the same as it had this morning — the blanket folded neatly at the corner of the couch, the stack of manuscripts on the dining table waiting for her notes, the email inbox she hadn’t opened once.

But she wasn’t the same.

And that realization — as soft and quiet as it was — made her sit up straighter.

She felt unsettled in a way that didn’t have a name. Not anxious, exactly. Not regretful. Just… aware.

Of how much had shifted in such a short span of time.

Of how little it took for someone to take up space again.

And how badly she wanted him to stay in it.

She picked up her phone and stared at the blank message screen.

Typed:

I made it home.

Paused.

Deleted it.

Typed:

I haven’t stopped thinking about the booth.

Deleted.

Then she did what she’d been trying not to do all evening — she opened the notes app. Scrolled past her work drafts. Her to-do lists. Her grocery reminders. Until she found the untitled one from earlier this week.

It was a draft of a message.

One she’d written but never sent.

Dated two days after she left him sitting in that café alone.

I don’t know why I left the way I did.

I panicked.

You were kind and good and you didn’t deserve the silence.

I haven’t stopped thinking about that conversation.

About you.

She read it twice.

Then hit select all.

Deleted it in one tap.

She didn’t want to send him something old.

Not now.

Not after seeing him again. Not after the warmth of the afternoon. Not after the quiet understanding in his eyes that said, You don’t owe me anything, but I’m still here if you want to try.

She opened the thread.

Typed:

Hey.

Waited.

Then added:

I don’t know if I’m doing this right.

Deleted that.

Typed:

Is this still okay?

No, not that either.

She let her hands fall into her lap and stared at the screen for a while.

She thought about what she really wanted him to know.

What wasn’t performative or clever or distant.

What she would say if he were sitting right here, across from her on this couch.

And slowly, carefully, she typed:

I’ve been thinking about earlier.

About how easy it felt.

And how hard that is to find lately.

I don’t know what this is.

Or if I’m supposed to know yet.

But I’d like to keep figuring it out.

With you.

She stared at it.

No emojis. No qualifiers. No softening the landing.

Just truth.

She hit send before she could overthink it.

Then set the phone down, facedown this time, and stood up.

She turned on the light in the hallway.

Went to the kitchen.

Poured out the cold tea.

Started boiling the water again.

She wasn’t going to wait around watching the screen this time.

She already knew she’d hear from him.

8:51 p.m. — Harry’s Flat

Harry was lying on the couch with a record playing low when his phone buzzed.

He almost didn’t check it.

Not because he wasn’t waiting — he was, in the quiet, resigned way people wait for things they know might not come. He’d done it before. Had entire evenings pass with his phone untouched, just to prove to himself that he could.

But this buzz felt different.

It wasn’t the group chat. Not a push notification. Just a single, simple vibration against the wood of the coffee table that made his eyes flick open and settle on the screen.

And then he saw it.

Y/N.

He sat up too fast.

The message preview was just a few words, cut off mid-line — but his chest tightened before he even unlocked the screen.

I’ve been thinking about earlier…

He blinked.

Held his breath.

Opened the thread.

And read.

I’ve been thinking about earlier.

About how easy it felt.

And how hard that is to find lately.

I don’t know what this is.

Or if I’m supposed to know yet.

But I’d like to keep figuring it out.

With you.

It took him three full reads to stop blinking.

Then he exhaled — loud and uneven, like it had been building all day and only now found a way out of his body.

He didn’t move for a long time.

Just held the phone in his hand, let his eyes trace the words over and over. Let himself feel every inch of what she was offering: not certainty, not resolution — but permission.

A beginning.

An opening.

A reach.

His first instinct was to reply immediately.

To give her what she’d given him — honesty, vulnerability, forward motion.

But then the overthinking kicked in.

What tone? What length? Was he allowed to be excited? Should he be measured? Was there a way to say me too without sounding like he’d been waiting by the phone all evening?

Because he had.

But still.

He opened the keyboard.

Typed:

You have no idea how much I needed to hear that.

Paused.

Backspaced.

Tried again:

Me too.

Too short.

Tried:

I’d really like that too.

And I think maybe we don’t have to know yet.

We just have to keep showing up.

He stared at it.

Nodded to himself.

Then, instead of hitting send, he set the phone down beside him and stood up.

He walked to the kitchen.

Opened the cupboard.

Pulled out the tea he had no intention of drinking — just needed to move. Think. Let the weight of her message land.

It wasn’t romantic, not in the sweeping-movie-score kind of way. It was grounded. Measured. Real.

But it meant something.

And the way it made his hands shake a little as he poured water into the kettle — yeah, that meant something too.

Back in the living room, he picked up the phone again.

Read the message again.

Still hit him like a warmth in his chest he didn’t know how to name.

He typed:

Can I see you tomorrow?

Then paused.

Edited:

I know it’s soon.

And I know we said we’d take it slow.

But I think I’d like slow better if you were next to me while we figured it out.

He didn’t overthink this one.

He just hit send.

And leaned back.

And smiled.

Not because he was confident.

But because for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t alone in the wanting.

9:03 p.m. — Y/N’s Flat

Her phone buzzed right as she was pouring the hot water over the tea bag.

It was quiet, almost tentative — like it didn’t want to assume it was important.

But her body stilled anyway.

She reached for it with one hand, the other still holding the kettle mid-pour, and nearly spilled it when she saw his name.

Harry Styles

I know it’s soon.

And I know we said we’d take it slow.

But I think I’d like slow better if you were next to me while we figured it out.

She didn’t breathe for a full second.

Then she exhaled all at once.

The kind of breath that felt like she’d been holding it for days.

She put the kettle down.

Left the mug where it was.

Walked out of the kitchen and back into the living room, phone in both hands, rereading the message over and over.

She smiled.

Then bit her lip.

Then sat down on the couch and tucked her legs under her, trying to figure out why this — this exact combination of words — was hitting her so hard.

It wasn’t flowery.

It wasn’t performative.

It was just… him.

Direct. Earnest. Just vulnerable enough to feel real.

He wasn’t asking her to give him certainty. He was asking to sit in the uncertainty together.

And she wanted that. Badly.

She typed:

You’re very good at this.

Paused.

Backspaced.

Tried:

I think I’d like that too.

No.

She wanted to be sure. She wanted him to feel it.

She typed:

Yes.

I’d really like to see you tomorrow.

And I think you’re right.

Slow might feel less terrifying if it’s next to you.

She stared at it. Her fingers trembled a little.

But this time, she didn’t doubt it.

She hit send.

Then she dropped the phone in her lap and just sat there.

Let herself feel how good it was to say yes to something that didn’t demand her to be perfect — just present.

A minute later, her phone buzzed again.

I’ll make the plans.

She didn’t even realize she was smiling until she saw her reflection in the window — soft, lit by the glow of the lamp behind her, eyes tired but bright in a way she hadn’t seen in a while.

Okay, she thought.

This is something.

Let it be something.

Sunday — 9:03 a.m. — Y/N’s Flat

Y/N woke up before her alarm.

Not with a jolt, not in a panic. Just… aware. Like her body had been keeping time without her.

She stayed under the blanket for a few minutes longer than usual, watching the light crawl in through the window. It was that kind of golden pale that made everything look like a film still. Like the city was trying to convince her to say yes to things before she could think of reasons not to.

And for once, she didn’t try to talk herself out of it.

9:17 a.m. — Harry’s Flat

Harry stood at his kitchen counter, eating toast he hadn’t meant to make.

He kept glancing at the clock like he was going to be late for something, even though there was nothing scheduled. Nothing formal. Just a maybe. A sometime today.

But it felt like a thing he didn’t want to miss.

He’d already checked the weather (mild, clear, cool breeze). Already shaved. Changed his shirt twice. Put on the one that didn’t look like he was trying, even though he definitely was.

He didn’t know where they were going yet — not exactly. He just knew he wanted it to feel easy. Low pressure. Like an extension of the café booth, but out in the world.

Like something real.

10:14 a.m. 

Do you trust me to pick somewhere?

As long as there’s coffee involved.

I’d never disrespect you like that.

Then yes. I trust you.

That last part wasn’t just about the coffee.

She hoped he knew that.

She had a feeling he did.

11:08 a.m. — Somewhere on the Northern Line

They weren’t meeting in the city proper. That had been a conscious choice on Harry’s part. He figured a smaller street, a quieter café, fewer things pulling at their attention — it might give them space to just… be.

He had no idea if it was the right call.

But when he got off the train and stepped out into the soft, sun-filtered morning, he felt like it might be.

He adjusted the bag on his shoulder, checked his phone again.

No new texts.

But she was coming.

That was enough.

11:26 a.m.

She saw him first.

He was leaning against the wall just outside the café entrance, phone in hand, one ankle crossed casually over the other like he was built for waiting. Like he didn’t mind it.

She stopped just short of being in his line of vision.

Took one second.

Then walked forward.

He looked up just as she reached him.

And smiled in that small, surprised way — like something he’d been hoping for had just appeared in front of him.

“Hi,” she said, soft.

“Hi,” he replied, quieter still.

[kyouka-supremacy]

(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[neverendingford]

[devosin]

GRIM ACCIDENTLY OUTING YOUR CRUSH ON HIM !! . . grim accidently blurting out how much you love the dorm head . .

gender neutral reader / fluff / crack taken seriously / mutual pinning

a/n: this has been rotting in my idea list for like over 2 years, enjoy! og account: @/cupids-chamber

MALLEUS DRACONIA

Malleus was surprised, when you had decided to tag along on his Gargoyle Study Club meeting, however he was ecstatic with the idea of you joining him, while he talked about his favorite things. Truly an exciting time, talking to his favorite person about his favorite things!

For once he didn't quite mind having no one at the meetings, because he got to spend time with you—and Grim . . he's there too . . In fact, Malleus kind of finds it endearing he stuck around this long with you, listening to him, despite clearly not being interested in the topic.

Malleus walked around, showing you his collection of gargoyles—explaining the extensive history of each one, and you listened, throughout his explanations which most people would find extremely boring, though seeing how passionate he was about the subject, you couldn't help but be engaged.

You followed along behind him, as he showed you each one, Grim on your shoulder, yawning rather loudly—clearly bored with the past hour, where you dragged him into Malleus's club meeting, which you passed off as a 'morale' thing to do—when he can clearly tell you did this because you liked him.

"Ah . . I have something I want to give to you"—Malleus shifted through the drawers, looking for the miniature gargoyles he had made for the both of you (well just you, he figured grim would appreciate something more . . edible . . he got tuna.).

Grim leans in closer to you, whispering rather loudly, so much so you knew Malleus could hear, "henchman, how much longer . . my whiskers are turning white here!!", he whispered all bit dramatically, and you sighed internally, mumbling a soft, "Grim not right now", in response.

After a few more moments of silence, Grim leaned back, and exclaimed, "You seriously like this guy, he likes gargoyles more then I like tuna—"

Grim paused, realizing he spoke a little more than he really should've. . . and Malleus paused, dropping whatever was in his hand to the floor, turning blankly at you, looking at you with a dumbfounded look on his face . . (he's processing, give him a minute.)

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Riddle isn't the kind of person to intrude in a conversation, especially when he knows he isn't wanted there (debatable)—He also doesn't enjoy listening in on others private conversations . . However, this case is different, obviously he has the right to be curious when you're being so very loud, I mean practically everyone can hear you!

His heels clicked on the floors, as he raced through the halls—Riddle doesn't often find himself in a rush, but lunch had started 5 minutes ago, and he was running behind on his schedule.

His hands gripped his notes tightly, and just as he was about to make a turn, he heard his name . .—Riddle stopped in his tracks, looking around, in order to find the source of the noise, that's when he spotted you . . and grim, who was speaking rather loudly.

Now, Riddle swears he's not purposefully ease-dropping, but Grim was loud. . he was bound to overhear anyways! . . Well that's what he'll keep telling himself, in order to ease the guilt of listening in on your private conversations.

"Riddle?!" Grim exclaimed, waving his little paws around in shock, "out of everyone henchman, you like that—", you covered Grim's mouth with your hand, whispering loudly in response, "Why don't you tell the whole school I like Riddle, Grim?!?"

Riddle paused in response to that, 'you liked him? . . as in romantically? . .', Riddle loses his grip on his notes, in shock. Papers scattered the floor with a thud, and before Riddle could fix the mess he had accidently caused, you turned, and faced him . . This is gonna be one long confessio—conversation.

VIL SCHOENHEIT

See, Vil isn't the kind of person to believe in a rumor or petty gossip that he hears across the halls of Pomefiore, because if there's drama then Octavinelle and Pomefiore are the absolute first at the crime scene—He's well aware of how a small lie and a fake rumor can go and ruin someone's life, which is why Vil prefers information from the source.

That being said, Vil does enjoy gossip—and at time's he draws his own conclusion to a topic, and keeps it to himself, he's on the middle line of it all, but you bet, he'll 'coincidentally' overhear all the drama going on at your family reunion but don't worry, he's amazing with secrets. (Headcanon: he probably pretends not to like gossip, but still listens and reacts when Rook tells him what he overheard)

And this is why Vil couldn't help it but approach Grim when he heard him complaining begrudgingly to himself, about you kicking him out and making him run 'errands' . . which were more likely then not, a distraction.

"Oh it's nothing, henchman just needed privacy . . ya . .", Vil raises a brow, and Grim should've shut down, but when a can of good tuna got involved . . Well a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

Grim took the can of tuna from Vil, "They're preparing a confession letter", Grim spoke and Vil couldn't help but feel a pang of betrayal at the revelation, how could they like someone else . . When he's breathing! (At least wait till he's cremated, like gosh . . So as long as his body exists, even if he's not breathing, you should love him frfr #hawkmothcore for the win) . .

"To who?", Vil asks, curiously, and Grim stares at him blankly, "I'll give you another can to go—" he offers, "Gimme it right now, and I'll tell ya'".

Vil sighs, handing him another can, "The letter is for ya', henchman likes you—".

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

Now normally, Leona could care less as to what goes on in the botanical garden, while he takes a nap there (mainly because he's too asleep to register his surroundings), because even with his acute sense of hearing, rarely anyone visits, and if they do, they only do so to take a break or catch a breather, or to just immerse themselves in the garden as a sort of escape, so it's usually all quiet and soothing, for the most part.

However, some days he wasn't so lucky, be it students randomly popping in so they could skip class, or to have a picnic, or that random couple, who thinks it'd be a cute and adorable idea to have a date in the botanical garden because no-one goes there, and it's so secretive and the mystery excites them. (he hates, he fucking hates it, he's the biggest hater there is, he despises all couples equally.)

Leona was all comfortable, half-asleep, his eyes were closed as he was ready to just get some shut-eye, sleep for a couple hours—until, he heard footsteps, rather loud ones . . Now, he normally doesn't care, and to be frank, he doesn't care right now, he figured they're taking a small stroll, and will stop . . eventually. (delusional king!!)

"Grim this is ridiculous—", Leona's ears perked up as he heard your voice, now that had his eyes wide open, looking around for you . . Well he's not that curious, as to what you find 'ridiculous' (he's very curious, he needs to know each detail, tell him everything), but he does hope you expand on it.

"C'mon henchmen! The best way to get over someone is confess and get closure?", Grim was confused himself, with whatever he was saying, "Oh yea Grim, which class did you learn that from, romance 101 with Crowley?—", Leona snorts.

"No actually I asked Trien!" Grim says . . a bit too confidently for comfort, "Grim . . I don't think you should be proud of that", you point out.

"Just tell Leona you like him? He's not gonna kill ya"

". . ." Leona froze, . . you liked him? I mean yea that makes sense, he's really attractive, but you—Liked him? . .

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

Azul states that he doesn't favor you that much—although the twins will argue otherwise, especially since Azul got you to taste test the new Monstro Lounge menu items, before he released it . . before even tasting it himself, . . and maybe he didn't want to let it slip that he liked you only—because he ended up also inviting Grim to taste the food with you—And with Crowley's payments . . well you were more than willing to accept free food.

To be fair, Azul is aware you do get a bit more special treatment, and deep-down he's well aware he likes you, but confronting his feelings? in this economy? . . not gonna happen . . He'd rather you assume he's a cat person who likes Grim, because clearly that's what you think of him, since he's so pretty and smart and good at covering his feelings. (He's not, he's boyfailing a little too close to the sun.)

Azul had everything set up—and by that he means, he had a plan and got other people to set it up for him, according to said plan, because he couldn't give away the fact that he had planned it himself, no . . that would make it seem like he was into you, and he'd rather die then you know that—In fact, he'd rather have his tentacles inked dry and cut off, fried and dipped in his ink, and shoved so far down his throat he chokes and dies before that even remotely comes close to happening.

You sat beside Azul, as he asked asked you about the food, and you gave responses that he mostly liked, . . well you did have some comments about the blue cheese rigatoni . . But to be fair, he entrusted the blue cheese to Floyd . .

Grim was half-way through his food, when he randomly spoke, with his mouth rather full, "This is amazing . . I can see why you like this guy henchman . .—" Azul paused and he practically stopped blinking, if his ears could perk up, then it would right now, "—for once your taste in men . . has good justification henchm—" Grim only paused when he recognized your glare, and only then did he realize how badly he fucked up . . "I'm not getting the good tuna for awhile . . am I?"

KALIM AL-ASIM

Kalim doesn't usually come in without an appointment (lies), or before informing you beforehand (lies on top of lies), and he doesn't really like invading your personal time (and lies again) . . at least not knowingly, but today was different . . he wanted to go somewhere with you! It's a surprise, and surely you'd appreciate him randomly popping into your dorm and dragging you outside, in the sunlight like an upstanding citizen and friend.

Kalim settles on the couch in the lounge of Ramshackle, stretching his arms out as he gets comfortable. All the while, Grim stares him down, . . something Kalim noticed off the get-go, "Why are you looking at me like that?", he calls out, confused and a tad bit unnerved at the blatant piercing stare.

"You're the one henchman likes, right? . .—what's your credit score? . . how many cans of tuna are we talking—"

Kalim paused, ". . . what?", he asks blankly, still paused at the first half of Grim's sentence, enough to not notice or take offense to the rest of his words and questions. "Why can't ya' hear me . . ?! I asked what's your credit scor—", grim responds, only to be cut-off mid-sentence by Kalim "BEFORE THAT!"

"That you're the person henchman lik—", Grim pauses as he hears your voice, and as you enter the room, Grim realizes his mistake, "Fuck."

"Kalim act natural!" Grim asks, as he goes back into his usual stance, but as he see's Kalim not moving, . . "who am I kidding . . no one can get shit through to ya' in one go . . I'm fucked."

IDIA SHROUD

Idia had his gaming equipment set up for two, well it would be three—but paws and controllers isn't the most fun thing to play around with, therefore Grim has opted to watching, instead of playing. Which he gets bored of rather fast, and well Ortho preferred to watch his older brother then play, or do normal kid things like advanced calculus.

Although Idia didn't really mind that, he enjoyed playing with you, because you were a really good challenge, a true gamer! . . And with newer games, he found that you listened and got the hang of it fast, and it was fun helping you grow your account on his favorite games, and it was also fun listening to you ramble about your favorite games from your world.

"So yea in genshin impact—", you rambled on and on about the Fontaine chapter, and about the 'archon' which was like the great seven, and how sad her storyline was, Idia dabbled in Lore from time to time, though he really found it amusing how you took the time to describe everything, you really helped immerse him in the storyline, and to be honest, sometimes he could imagine he was playing the game with you.

"—and then if you went into this specific area you could actually hear her cry . . OH oh! . . and when Neuvillette cried, it would like downpour so hard . . ", you continued rambling, and Idia would just listen, so much so that you guys completely forgot the game you were actually playing . . which seemed to upset Grim, who wanted to watch.

"Yea yea . . henchmen, we get it was sad, and it's fun talking to the love of your life—but could we please have more playing and less talking!", Grim explained rather dramatically, his paws flinging up, only to be silenced when he saw the two of you silent, looking at each other . . and then Idia's hair burst up in bright pink flames . .

commissions / discord server / february bundles <3

@ devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[prentisssbxtch]

An experience.

summary: the woman you slept with the night before, ends up being your boss.

relationship: wanda x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, hits to smut, lil make out, uhh i think that’s it? bad writing <3

this is my first time writing a fanfic so… bear with me

also not proofread !!

part 2

─── ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ───

waking up confused and disoriented, i looked around my surroundings to see i was in my living room… naked.

i turned to see a naked woman’s back facing me as she lied passed out. i could see she had gorgeous red hair; which was going in every direction possible.

the color of her hair suddenly brought back memories or the night before:

the two of us stumbled through my apartment door before my back was pressed up against it. wanda’s lips never left mine as she gripped my waist, which definitely left bruises.

as her lips moved down towards my neck, i let out a soft moan, gripping her hair tightly between my fingers.

i let out a soft whimper as she nipped my neck. i could feel her lips turn up into a grin before i pulled her head back up to kiss me.

i suddenly snapped back to the present when i noticed the woman on my floor moving. wanda is her name, if i remember correctly.

i quickly pulled the blanket off her body to cover my own. i threw a pillow down to cover her ass, giving her at least some decency.

i wrapped the blanket around my body before standing as wanda began to full awaken.

i moved to stand behind my couch as i watch wanda wake up. she turned her head towards me after a moment of silence.

she has gorgeous eyes

“hey, um i have to be somewhere really soon, so if you wouldn’t mind, uh, leaving… that’d be great,” i said awkwardly, trying to avoid small talk.

“what don’t wanna go for round two?” was her only response, with the most cockiest smirk i’d ever seen.

i felt my eyes widen before quickly recovering, “as great as that sounds, i have somewhere to be. so i’m gonna go to my bathroom and take a shower, and when i come back, you’re going to be gone. okay?” i said as i slowly started backing away towards the bathroom.

she gave a small sigh before standing, completely nude. i quickly turned to give her privacy after being caught off guard.

“uh it was great meeting you…” i paused not wanting to get her name wrong.

“wanda” she said, filling in the blank, while she picked up her belongings.

“wanda,” i said repeating after her as i slowly turned to look back at her. “well, bye.”

was my final response as i turned to leave to the bathroom, again.

——

after my… eventful morning, i quickly rushed through my shower before putting on work appropriate clothes.

i was starting an internship at a law firm here in new york. it was one of the biggest companies in the city, Maximoff Industries.

the fancy name already had my scared, but the fact of a whole new building, which could make or break my career… i felt as if i could throw up at any moment.

i was luckily able to grab a taxi, before having a small panic attack in the car. i put my headphones in, turning on music to hopefully calm my nerves.

it didn’t.

as the taxi pulled up outside the building, i felt as if i was shitting bricks.

i turned to pay the driver before quickly exiting the car.

i slowly walked towards the building, trying to even my breathing as i neared the main entrance.

the second i walked through the door, i was greeted by marble floors with a gorgeous chandelier.

i walked to the front dest asking where to go. she told me all the interns were to go to the 5th floor, where we would meet Ms. Maximoff, the owner of the building.

i nodded my head before saying a quiet thank you. i moved towards the elevator, quickly pressing the button calling it to my floor.

once the doors opened i stepped in, pressing the button for the fifth floor before leaning against the back wall.

suddenly i began to realize i had no idea what any of the maximoffs looked like. they had a very house hold name, everyone knew of who they are. i thought of googling the name before realizing it was pretty pointless. i would be seeing her in person in just a few minutes.

as the elevator dinged, alerting me of my arrival to the fifth floor, i felt my anxiety suddenly jump even higher than before.

which i didn’t think was possible, but clearly it was.

i stepped out as i politely smiled at the people getting in. i saw another front desk for the floor, quickly making my way towards the woman sitting there. she quickly directed me towards a room off to the left, which already had several people sitting around it. i gave a small thank you before walking to the area.

i looked for an open seat before quickly sitting. as time passed more people began to walk into the room. once the clock on the wall turned to 2:30, two people walked into the room.

the first, a tall man with blond hair, slightly blocking the person behind them.

the person being him stepped to stand beside him, i cast a glance to the woman who stepped out. only for my jaw to drop once i realized who it was.

the woman from this morning. wanda.

the man cleared her throat, regaining my attention, “this will be the internship that could potentially make or break your future. you have all been picked on how well you did in school. do not think because you are here, you’re safe of future problems. we will not hesitate to let you go, if we see fit.”

i turned my attention back to the woman standing next to the man, seeing her already looking at me. i could tell from her expression, she too was surprised by my presence. within a blink, she looked completely neutral.

this was definitely going to be an experience.

─── ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ───

thank you for reading🫶🏻

part two

[luvsupa]

BUT YOU’RE A …VAMPIRE?!

terrible summary: fucking the towns hottest college student—a bonus. . . he’s a vampire!

tags: vampire!choso x fem!reader, choso and reader are in college, reader babysits yuji, heavily inspired by tvd 🙂‍↕️, lowkey long before smut scene sorryyy, smut (p in v), face sitting, mating press, blōod play, sqūirting, feral choso, sub!choso (a little), hes insanely fast and strong, errmm idk what else, mdni

w.c: 2.3k

a/n: 1. TY GUYS FOR 1.5K ???? THIS IS INSANEEE, 2. I hope u guys enjoy bc this is my first kinktober so I hope I satisfy y’all 🧟‍♀️

kinktober masterlist

“this movie’s not even scary,” yuji mutters from under the blankets, trying to hide the tremble in his voice. he begged you to play halloween, the most gruesome movie you’ve ever seen. maybe it wasn’t the best idea for a teenage boy—he’d probably have nightmares—but you just wanted him to stop whining. you giggle as he shrieks when michael myers catches a screaming woman, his eyes glued to the screen despite his words.

suddenly, the movie pauses, and you glance up from your phone, wondering why. “can you do my halloween makeup now? megumi’s coming soon, and we’re going trick-or-treating,” yuji asks, hopeful. you sigh internally, not because of him, but because this isn’t how you planned to spend your halloween. midterms are next week, and you haven’t even started studying!

you nod, grabbing your makeup bag already packed with halloween supplies. yuji sits in the dining room—where the lighting is better—facing the television. he’s jumpy as the movie resumes, flinching at every scare, ruining the makeup more than once. you’re just applying fake blood to his mouth to piece together the vampire look when the front door slams open, the sound deafening. you both scream, your heart pounding as your eyes dart toward the source.

choso.

you nearly drop the makeup brush, fake blood splattering the polished floor. choso’s laughter echoes through the room, and you stare at him in shock, your heart racing from the scare—and the sight of him. you haven’t seen him in nearly a year since he moved abroad for school. you thought your crush on him had faded, but now, seeing him again…he’s even more attractive. more buff. and is he dressed as a vampire? how fitting for the brothers.

choso brings in, a beautiful girl trailing behind him, her expression uneasy. you notice something odd—they’re matching.

“that wasn’t funny, choso,” yuji grumbles, pushing him away when choso messes up his slicked-back hair. but your attention is elsewhere, drawn to choso’s costume. the fangs look too real, and dried blood stains the corners of his lips. your stomach twists with unease.

“hey, choso, your costume is… really cool,” you manage to say, your voice catching as his gaze locks onto yours. his eyes—there’s a tint of red. it feels like he’s staring straight through you, searching for something deeper. and then, you notice the girl again, her pale complexion, her exhausted, haunted look.

and her neck.

multiple bite marks—no, fang marks—line her skin, and you swear you see blood trickling from one of them. who in the hell did their makeup?

“costume? oh no, we’re not—”

“teenage versions of dracula and draculara,” choso cuts in coldly, his gaze never leaving yours. your heart pounds, the tension in the room thickening. you know what dracula looks like and it’s not what he’s wearing.

the movie continues playing in the background as it fades into nothing. choso’s lips twitch as he stares at your neck, his eyes darkening when they land on the pulsing vein just beneath the surface. you feel a lump form in your throat, and yuji shifts awkwardly between you both, oblivious to the growing danger.

without another word, choso snaps out of it, pulling the girl upstairs in a hurry. loud, frantic footsteps echo as the door slams shut behind them. you release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

after finishing yuji’s costume, the movie mercifully ends. you take a few photos of yuji with his plastic vampire fangs before megumi and nobara arrive in matching outfits. they thank you, and with a final warning to stay close to the block, you send them off. at last, you’re alone—ready to relax.

but when you return to the dining room, your peace is shattered. the mess from the makeup is worse than you remembered, and you groan. you huff as you start cleaning up, scrubbing the floor and tossing used brushes into the nearby sink. and then, you feel it.

someone’s watching you.

you freeze, a chill running down your spine. slowly, you turn around, your heart racing, and nearly scream again. choso is leaning against the staircase, his dark eyes fixed on you, an unsettling smile tugging at his lips.

“gosh, choso, you scared me,” you exclaim, clutching the counter for support.

“no need to be scared,” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous as he walks closer following you into the kitchen. “i was just… admiring the view.”

heat rushes to your cheeks, but there’s a sinister edge to his words that makes you uneasy. still, you mutter a soft “pervert,” hoping to shake off the tension. but choso hears you clearly, his dark chuckle sending shivers down your spine.

you walk to the dirty dishes as you start cleaning up the previous mess, trying to ignore the growing sense of dread as he offers to help, standing too close for comfort. his presence is suffocating, his body radiating cold as he dries each dish you hand him. “so… you got a boyfriend?” he asks bluntly, and your breath catches.

“no… i’ve been busy with school,” you stammer, your heart pounding in your chest. his lips curl into a smirk, and you hear him whisper, “good girl.”

your knees weaken, and you squeeze your thighs together, feeling a surge of warmth between your legs. he knows. he can smell it. your mind spins as you struggle to focus on washing the dishes. when your hand accidentally brushes his, the icy coldness jolts you, your breath hitching.

you glance at him through the window in front of the sink. dread pooling in your stomach. no way…

the fangs. the eyes. the ice cold touch.

he’s a—

“c’monnn, you’re letting the water run too long,” choso interrupts, snapping you back to reality. you quickly apologize, shaking off the thought as you rinse off the next dirty dish. holding a tiny kitchen knife, you stare at your reflection in the window. choso stands impatiently, waiting for you to hurry up. biting your lip, you rinse the knife, but just before you hand it to him, you ‘accidentally’ slice the tip of your finger.

you watch the way his eyes darken, his pupils dilating as veins bulge beneath his skin. his lips part, his fangs elongating as he watches your blood dribble down with the almost animalistic hunger.

panic grips you and instinct kicks in, and you sprint for the front door, tears stinging your eyes, terrified of ending up like the victims in the horror movies. you twist the doorknob, but choso is suddenly in front of you, covering your mouth with his hand as he dragging you back inside, the door slams behind you with a deafening thud.

“shh, baby…I know, ’m not gonna hurt you,” choso whispers, his voice rough as he coaxes you to the couch. you tremble, tears blurring your vision.

“cho… you’re a—a vampire?” you manage to choke out, the words feeling unreal in your mouth. choso nods, his eyes fixed on the blood still oozing from your finger. something inside you shifts, your fear dissolving as something darker takes over.

fuck it.

“you want it, cho’?” you murmur, lifting your finger to his lips, smearing your blood across them. his eyes roll back, his fangs glistening as he lets out a desperate moan, his hunger consuming him.

you lean closer, your voice a seductive whisper, “then take it.”

and oh did you truly mess up. badly.

choso had never tasted anything as sweet and addicting as you—the sweetest he’s ever known since his transformation into a vampire. that’s why he has you sitting on his face, your pussy suffocating him as his icy hands pull you deeper against his mouth. your thighs tremble on either side of his head, fingers gripping the armrest for support. your eyes roll back as his slick tongue plunges deep into your pulsing walls, his nose brushing against your swollen clit.

“ch-cho’. . slow d-down..” you wail, trying to pull away from his inhuman tongue—but he growls. the wet, messy sounds of slurping and groans fill your ears as you’re losing yourself on his tongue. you can’t help it—you start grinding even deeper into his face, chasing that high as he hums against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. your nails dig into the armrest, knuckles white, as you glance down with glazed eyes—his brows are furrowed, veins pulsing under his skin, soft brown hair that was once tied up now sprawled wildly across the couch.

he’s slurping you up like you’re his last meal, completely lost in the taste of you. it’s like you’ve got him under some kind of spell, and he can’t stop. he pulls you deeper into his face until you’re sure you’ll break. your thighs shake uncontrollably, your stomach tightening as you feel your orgasm slam into you, broken cries spilling from your lips, soaking his tongue in your release.

“mmf— ‘m gonna—”

“not yet,” choso commands, lifting you off his face and tossing you flat on your back with a rough ‘oof’ escaping your lips. your mind is too foggy to register anything as he grabs your ankles, placing them on either side of his shoulders. your cunt spasms uncontrollably, slick dripping down as you whimper, watching him grip the base of his thick cock. his chubby tip parts your swollen folds, sliding up and down your dripping slit, teasing your twitching hole, not giving you what you desperately need. your gaze locks with his, and your heart skips a beat—his eyes fixed on the pulsing vein in your neck, his mouth trembling as his fangs grow longer.

“hahh— I need a t-taste,” he moans, the whites of his eyes turning black as he repeats the same words, over and over, to himself. before you can even respond, he slams into you, balls-deep, a broken sob tearing from your throat he’s stretching you so wide it hurts so good as his thick crown head bullies your sweet spot. your whole body jiggles with each brutal thrust, clenching down hard as his cock stretches you abnormally wide. he’s lost in the feeling, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you swear he’s leaving bruises, all while he keeps mumbling to himself, lost in a frenzy.

he’s completely feral, growling with every thrust, eyes locked on your neck like he’s about to tear into you, his cock stretching you wide as your body shakes from the sheer force of his inhumane thrusts.

“y-yes… cho’, have a t-taste,” you stutter, tilting your head to the side, exposing the throbbing vein he’s been eyeing with hunger. his eyes gleam with feral desire as he leans down, his thick cock still relentlessly jackhammering deep inside you. 

he groans into your neck, inhaling your scent, and your shaking hands pull him closer, legs wrapping tight around his waist, locking him in as your eyes roll back. the sharp sting of his fangs sinking deep into your neck pulls a guttural moan from you, his mouth latched onto your skin as he drinks, each slurp sending electric shocks through your body. his thrusts become erratic, vicious, slamming into your poor cervix as he drinks greedily from you.

“s-such a good vampire,” you pant, praising him as he pulls away from your neck, rising up to look at you—and fuck, he’s completely lost in it. his blacked-out eyes, mouth hanging open, dripping with blood, his chin smeared in a mess of fluids. his monstrous look beyond attractive you don’t even think—you grab him by the face and yank him down to your lips, moaning as the metallic tang of your blood touches your tongue. your lips move against his hungrily, tasting the mix of your blood and his spit as he pounds into your sloppy, swollen cunt that grips him so tight it’s driving him crazy. his thrusts become more brutal, more desperate, his cock throbbing as you cling to him, completely helpless under his inhuman strength.

he pulls away from the kiss with a growl, leaving you breathless, licking your lips as the taste of blood lingers. with no warning, choso grabs your thighs and folds you in half—ankles pressed right up against your ears. he fucks you deeper, so deep you swear he’s going to break you, every thrust harder, more punishing than the last as you whimper and sob beneath him.

“fuckkk— pussy’s suckin’ the s-soul outta me,” he groans, forcing your thighs deeper into your chest, bending you in half like you’re nothing. all you can do is take it, your body completely at his mercy, trembling under his brutal, inhuman pace. his cock pounds into you relentlessly, each thrust sending shockwaves through your entire body, your mind turning into a haze of desperate moans and babbled pleas.

and then, it hits—your orgasm slams into you, hard and fast, like a wave crashing over you. eyes rolling back as your walls clamp down around him, milking his cock, spasming so hard you’re seeing stars. your legs shake uncontrollably as you feel the hot rush of your release soaking both of you, dripping down your thighs, adding to the messy slick between your bodies. you’re screaming, but it’s incoherent—just broken sobs and moans, completely overwhelmed by the pleasure ripping through you.

choso feels it too, your pussy squeezing him so tight he can barely move, and with a deep growl, he spills inside you, thick, hot ropes of cum filling you to the brim. you can feel him pulsing inside you, filling you so full that it starts to leak out, your stomach bulging slightly from how much he’s pumped into you. your whole body trembles, completely spent, as your cunt flutters around him, milking every last drop.

“heyy pretty, c’mon—wake up,” choso coos, giving your swollen, throbbing cunt a hard slap. the impact makes you jolt, and the wet, sticky sound echoes through the living room as your mixed juices splatter everywhere, slick covering your lower stomach and seeping into the couch. broken moans slip past your lips, your eyes fluttering open just in time to see him towering over you, his cock still hard and dripping with cum, more spilling from his tip.

“we’re nowhere near done.” 

[balteredsworld]

wilson’s hypothesis. gregory house

🥼🩺 | according to wilson, house likes you and you like him. so, house confronts you with wilson’s hyposthesis.

masterlist: greg house n all

warnings/tags! fluff of sorts, angst if you squint, talks of self-sabotage, idiots in love, sherlocked reference!!! (just watched 8x18—house self-sabotages so bad my lord)

author's note: lowkey hate this but it's idk what're we thinking fellow ducklings???

"wilson thinks i like you," house airs.

you throw him a strange glance.

"crazy, right?"

"yeah? and you think i like cameron," you mimic, matching his dismissive detachment to comedic effect.

only, house is serious.

“no, wilson thinks i like you.” house ignores your joke, repeating wilson’s solemn hypothesis.

when you pause to look at his face, your mind goes off into complete nonsense like's just tipped you over and left you with internal bleeding in your brain, upon the realization that he does, in fact, mean those words he's telling you.

"what makes him say that?"

"i'm apparently connecting with you,” house indulges, relaxing into the cold bit of wall behind him. the moonlight hits him in a more subtle way, half hidden in the shadows. the blue of his wrinkled shirt melts into the glow it radiates.

you're not particularly sure what to say. thankfully, he elaborates.

“you share your food with me, i take your food, ergo it means something in wilson's romantic world,” house offers, before quickly dismissing the thought of his supposed feelings for you. "but you know wilson, he's always been a romantic. thinks he can diagnose emotions as easily as diseases."

you consider the argument, "well couldn't that just mean i can't finish my food and you don't wanna get your own?"

he squints at you, as if with drills for eyes. you're playing dumb, unless you really believe that. but you don't.

you clear your throat, "well, do you believe that?"

"well it's either that or i must obviously like you."

you gawk. "well, do you?"

"do i have to spell it out for you?"

"wilson had to," you snark back. "so, do you?"

"no," he says with a flat face.

something in your chest drops, just as your brows shoot up. "no?"

"no," he reaffirms.

you don't know if you manage to catch your frown. house doesn't say anything if you didn't. you're more than a little embarrassed, surely flushed. you're thankful that the two of you are under the dim veil of night.

"well good thing," you grumble.

house looks at you with a curious look, as if he was almost offended you would say that. "good thing?"

“we’re both lonely. lonely means self-sabotage,” you explain, fiddling with one of the main trinkets that line the ledge. you were sure you proving your point, coming up with an off-putting rationale to cover up your embarrassment. "two self-saboteurs, well, that's an equation with proven unresolved issues... so yeah, good thing."

you were internally cringing at the words you were spitting out, but you were trying to play it cool. it's something that's never worked in your favour though when you were near an attractive guy, and you always swore this was to make them repulse the inkling of interest. and you swore off doing this years ago, but the blunt rejection, if you could call it that, sprung the teenager out of you.

then again, house affects you like that. blue eyes and blue shirt and all.

he makes it no secret that he's a ladies' man, often hitching hookers into the hospital despite cuddy's gentle parenting to make him stop. but house does whatever he wants in the hospital, hence all the lawsuits you've had to deal with.

when you look at him again, he's somehow uncharacteristically quiet. you're unsure if his speculative eyes are because of a lightbulb moment, but one thing's for sure: he was thinking.

"you're thinking, aren't you?" you glean in a tilt.

house doesn't say anything, but turns away from you. when he does, you're unsure if you see his lip curl in disappointment—he hides it too well. some part of you hopes, but you know you're not his type. a bit too much like him in the overanalyzing and overthinking.

and maybe you're convincing yourself, but realistically speaking, your happy arrangement of sharing food in the middle of a hospital shift may work for lonely and misery, but not for anything else. two people who like self-sabotage is like a dumpster fire.

you'd rather have house like this, happy and alarmingly blue.

"aaand you've stopped listening. i shall take that as my cue to leave," you announce, hopping off the ledge in the same ginger fashion you had waltzing in.

when you land your feet, house airs his deduction, nodding along as if he was finally making sense of you and wilson’s hypothesis. 

“maybe he’s onto something.”

you turn to him with a tinge of a worrisome brow. 

“who knows? maybe i’ve been sending subtle signals that even i’m not aware of. so what do you think?” he croons his head, all ominous, arriving to a conclusion. you can practically see the cogs turn in his brain. “you like me.”

"i never said that.”

house looks at you, rising in a smooth motion, as if to showcase his towering height, forcing you to look up at him. sitting down, he's not so large, but now, all you can think is that he's tall.

"you might not, but your body does," he croons, dangerous smirk playing about his face. his eyes probe your face, confidently with a proven theory. "pupils dilated..."

house grabs your wrist, eyes practically lighting up in delight at his impending diagnosis.

"…and pulse elevated. i understand that wilson thinks that love's a mystery to me, but the chemistry's incredibly simple," he says, softening his grip on you.

house doesn't let go, lingering in this proximity, leaning closer like some ghost and spirit you'll always look for. your breath hitches, but house doesn't afford you time to quite think, capturing your lips in a kiss that you reciprocate, clutching onto his arms for balance.

you feel one of his hand snake to the nook of your back, pushing you flush against him. house keeps his other hand cupping your cheek and jaw, large enough to cover that expanse of your face. it's a little dry and rough, but you don't mind, all too preoccupied with his lips.

house makes good work on you. his lips are even better than you'd imagine, but you finally register his words and what you were doing, so you pull away. the furrow of your brows returning, apprehensive about his next words.

you whisper, “i thought you didn't like me.”

"i was lying," he shrugs. "i needed to see if i was right, and i was."

"so you figured me out?"

"you like me,” house concludes, triumphant. “i was right.”

“i thought this was wilson’s hypothesis?” you cock a brow.

“hypothesis,” he nods before flicking your head. “but i can’t give him the credit for my diagnosis.”

you let out an airy laugh, relieved that he didn't make you spell it out for him. "you're an ass, you know?"

his eyes are proudly heralding trumpets. you could practically hear the victory going off them.

"it comes with the sitting arrangement."

[connorsui]

Infinite Heartstrings

Obsessed! Satoru x fem! Reader

Genre/warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, comedy, satoru falling in love with you

Synopsis: Satoru Gojo is hopelessly smitten with you, but his usual confidence falters whenever you're around.

Note: this takes place when everything hasn't gone to depression 💔

w.c: 1.3K

Satoru Gojo was not one to lose his cool. The man who faced down curses without batting an eye, who cracked jokes mid-battle, and who carried the weight of the world on his broad, relaxed shoulders—he was unshakeable. At least, that's what everyone believed. But those closest to him, like Suguru Geto and Shoko Ieiri, knew better.

"He's doing it again," Shoko muttered, glancing over the top of her medical file at the white-haired sorcerer pacing back and forth in their shared lounge.

"How could anyone be so perfect?" Satoru gushed, his hands waving animatedly in the air as he recounted every detail of his latest encounter with you. "The way she smiled at me—I'm telling you, it was like the sun itself decided to bless me with its warmth!"

Suguru, leaning against the wall with an exasperated look, sighed deeply. "You’re hopeless, Satoru. We get it. She smiled at you…and to be factual she wasn't doing it just towards you"

"But it wasn't just a smile," Satoru insisted, blue eyes sparkling with an intensity that had nothing to do with his cursed techniques. "It was... it was *the* smile! Like, 'I can die happy now' kind of smile!"

Shoko rolled her eyes, closing her file with a snap. "You’ve been saying the same thing for weeks. Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?"

"Because—because—" Satoru paused, searching for the right words, his usual confidence faltering. "Because– I mean she wouldn't reject meeee …right!? …THE Satoru Gojo!? – I just gotta find the right time is all”

Suguru and Shoko exchanged a glance, the kind that spoke volumes without words. Satoru Gojo, the man who could have anything and anyone, was terrified of rejection.

When you spoke to him, it was as if the world slowed down. The way your voice reached his ears, gentle and melodic, made his heart race in a way he couldn't control. It wasn’t fair how you did that to him, how you made him—a man who usually had the upper hand—feel so completely and utterly at your mercy. That even his six eyes looked at you with pure admiration and beauty.

“God's it's as if I can stare at her soul forever”

“Do you see that! She styled her hair today!”

“Having her in our lives would feel less lonely”

“ She will love us too, right!?”

“She looks so soft…”

“Her very being is immaculate”

"Satoru?" Your voice snapped him back to reality, and he realized he'd been staring at you for a little too long. His face flushed, and he quickly cleared his throat.

"Oh, uh, yeah! Sorry, I was just... uh... admiring the view!" He cringed internally, immediately regretting his choice of words. What kind of line was that?

Surprised; you stared at him directly until you giggled, a sound that sent his heart soaring. "Your mind is getting soo cloudy lately, Gojo…but, I can't lie when you stare off into the universe, it makes you look cute!”

Cute.

You called him cute, for a brief moment Satoru's six eyes went silent.

You liked him enough to tease him!

Later that night, he found himself groaning into his pillow, replaying the conversation in his head for the hundredth time. "Cute … I can't believe she called me cute..." He grumbled, his face half-buried in the pillow, a faint blush still lingering on his cheeks. Why couldn’t he ever say something smooth to you? Something that would make you see him as the suave, confident man he was supposed to be?

But the next day, his resolve hardened. He was Satoru Gojo, after all. He could do this. He can make this right!

So, he showed up at your door with a bouquet of red tulips and baby’s breath, their soft elegance a reflection of his feelings for you. Of course, he didn’t tell you that he had grilled your friend for an hour to find out your favorite flowers.

"Red tulips?" You raised an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised. "How did you know these are my favorites?"

Satoru grinned, pushing up his sunglasses with a cocky tilt of his head. "I have my ways. Lucky guess, maybe?"

You smiled, taking the bouquet with a gentle touch that made his heart skip a beat. "Thank you, Satoru. They're beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you," he blurted out, and immediately, his face turned red. He couldn't believe he’d just said that out loud. The normally confident sorcerer was now a stuttering, blushing mess.

"You're so sweet," you said softly, and Satoru could have sworn the entire world melted away in that moment. Just you, him, and the beating of his heart that felt louder than any curse he’d ever faced.

Satoru couldn’t take it anymore. He’d spent weeks—no, months—dancing around his feelings, trying to play it cool, trying to be smooth. But every time he saw you, every time you smiled at him, he felt like he was going to explode.

So there he was, standing in front of you, his usual swagger nowhere to be found. His sunglasses were pushed up into his hair, revealing those striking blue eyes that were now filled with nervous energy.

"Any moment i'm going to lose myself…" he stammered, his voice a little too loud, a little too shaky. You looked at him, curious and a bit concerned.

"....what?"

"I... I really like you. And not just in a 'hey, let's be friends' kind of way, but in a 'I think about you all the time and I want to be with you' kind of way, — I mean — who wouldn't want to be with me right? — you would be with me …right? " he confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush before he lost his nerve. His face was burning, and he was sure he looked like an idiot, but he didn’t care anymore.

You blinked, taking a moment to process his sudden outburst. Then, a soft smile spread across your lips, and you stepped closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.

"Satoru Gojo," you said with a teasing lilt, "I think I like you too."

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief flooding through him. “Me…right? ..you mean me….not as the stro-"

Silencing him. You kissed his cheek. “I mean you Satoru …I mean you”

Satoru's heart nearly burst from his chest as your words sank in, the warmth of your kiss lingering on his cheek like a brand. For a moment, he was utterly speechless, his brain short-circuiting as it tried to process the fact that you actually liked him back.

His usual confident grin slowly returned, this time softer, more genuine, as he gazed at you with those intense blue eyes, now filled with nothing but adoration.

And for the first time in a long while, Satoru Gojo knew that he didn’t have to face the world alone. Because now, he had you.

Ooc satoru is my fav satoru

[paxtito]

‘my beautiful girl’

pairings: jenna x reader (g!p)

wc: 3833

warnings: smut (18+), insecurity, slight praise kink, p in v, kissing, strong language

summary: you and jenna have been dating for a couple years but you’ve never gone further than a makeout session due to insecurity. jenna starts to believe that she’s the problem. (requested by anon which is pasted at the end)

MASTERLIST

Jenna had always been patient with you. Two years together, and she had never once pressured you—never once made you feel like you owed her anything. But lately, something had changed.

You could see it in the way her brows furrowed when she pulled away from a kiss, the way she hesitated before touching you in certain ways, like she was second-guessing herself. You knew she had started to overthink, to wonder if it was something about her. If you just weren’t attracted to her.

And that couldn’t be further from the truth.

But how could you explain that? How could you tell Jenna, the girl who seemed effortlessly perfect in every way, that you weren’t holding back because of her—but because of you?

Because the thought of undressing in front of her made your stomach twist. Because you couldn’t shake the feeling that once she saw you—really saw you—her eyes wouldn’t hold that same adoration. That maybe, just maybe, she’d wish for someone else.

You didn’t even realize how deep in thought you were until Jenna sighed beside you, pulling her knees up to her chest as she sat on your bed. “You can tell me, you know.”

Your breath hitched. “Tell you what?”

Jenna exhaled, her gaze locked onto the sheets like they had the answers. “Why you always pull away.” She paused, voice quieter now. “Why you won’t let me touch you like that.”

Your chest tightened. “Jenna—”

“I mean, I just—” She let out a soft, humorless laugh, shaking her head. “I thought maybe you just weren’t ready. And that’s fine. But then I started thinking… what if you’re never going to be? What if it’s me? What if you just don’t—” She hesitated, biting her lip before finally forcing the words out. “What if you just don’t want me like that?”

Your heart broke at the way her voice wavered.

“Jenna, no,” you said quickly, reaching for her hand. She let you, but her fingers were tense in your grasp. “It’s not that. It’s never been that.”

She finally looked at you, her dark eyes searching. “Then what is it?”

You swallowed, your throat tight. The words were right there, caught between your ribs, begging to be set free.

But saying them meant exposing yourself.

And that? That terrified you more than anything.

Jenna watched you closely, her brows furrowed in concern as she waited for your response. She could see the conflict playing out across your face, the internal struggle that had you trapped between wanting to reassure her and fearing your own vulnerability.

After a long, tense moment, you finally spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just... I'm not comfortable with my body, Jenna. Not like you are."

Jenna's expression softened, and she squeezed your hand gently. "Hey, it's okay. You don't have to be uncomfortable with me. I could never think less of you, no matter what."

You let out a shaky breath, feeling some of the tension leave your shoulders at her words. "I know. I know you couldn't. It's just... hard for me to feel good about myself sometimes. And I don't want to ruin this, ruin us, by being too... exposed."

Jenna reached up to cup your cheek with her free hand, her thumb brushing lightly over your skin. "You could never ruin us, baby. And I don't want you to feel like you have to be someone you're not with me. I love you, all of you, just as you are."

She leaned in closer, her forehead resting against yours as she spoke softly. "I want to make you feel good, want to show you how beautiful and desirable you are to me. But I can only do that if you let me in, if you trust me with the parts of yourself that scare you the most."

Her words hung in the air between you, a gentle challenge and a tender promise all at once. You knew she was right, knew that you couldn't expect her to be okay with the walls you kept up if you weren't willing to let her in.

Slowly, hesitantly, you nodded. "Okay," you whispered, feeling a flicker of determination amidst the fear. "Okay, I'll try. For you, I'll try."

Jenna smiled softly, her eyes shining with love and understanding. "That's all I ask. Just try, baby. That's all any of us can do."

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself with newfound resolve. Jenna's words had resonated deep within you, igniting a spark of bravery in your chest. She was right - you couldn't keep holding back, not when she deserved to have all of you.

With trembling fingers, you reached for the hem of your shirt. Jenna watched intently, her expression a mix of anticipation and gentle encouragement. You could see the love and acceptance in her eyes, the silent affirmation that no matter what, she would be right here beside you.

Slowly, you began to lift your shirt up, inch by inch. Your heart raced as more of your skin was revealed, your breath growing shallow as you fought the urge to hide yourself away again. But Jenna's gaze remained soft and admiring, spurring you on.

Finally, with a deep breath, you pulled your shirt off completely and let it fall to the floor beside the bed. You sat there for a moment, your arms instinctively crossing over your chest as you waited for Jenna's reaction.

She was silent for a long moment, her eyes roaming over your newly exposed skin. Then, slowly, she reached out to take your hands in hers, gently uncrossing your arms and holding them at your sides.

"Breathe," she whispered, as if reminding you that you were still alive, still present in this vulnerable moment. "You're so beautiful, baby. Have I ever told you that?"

You shook your head slightly, unable to find your voice. Jenna smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your collarbone, right above the swell of your breast.

"Well, you are," she murmured against your skin. "Inside and out."

With that, she began to trail her fingers over your chest, a feather-light touch that made you shiver. She mapped out the curves of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the flare of your hips - every inch of newly exposed skin was worshipped with gentle caresses and tender kisses.

You felt your body starting to relax, the tension bleeding out of your muscles as Jenna's touch soothed and aroused you all at once. For the first time in a long time, you felt seen - truly seen, in all your flawed and beautiful glory.

As Jenna's hands and lips continued their reverent exploration of your upper body, you felt a growing warmth beginning to pool low in your belly. Her touch was igniting a fire within you, a desire that you had long kept banked down out of fear and insecurity.

But as her fingers danced along the waistband of your pants, you tensed slightly, a flicker of apprehension cutting through the haze of arousal. Jenna paused, sensing your momentary hesitation.

"Shh, it's okay," she soothed, her voice a low murmur against your skin. "We can take this as slow as you need to. No pressure, remember?"

You nodded, drawing in a shaky breath as you tried to relax back into her touch. Jenna smiled softly, pressing another kiss to your hipbone before slowly, carefully, popping the button on your pants.

She let her fingers slip beneath the fabric, brushing lightly over the skin there. You shuddered, your body already responding to her touch in a way that made anticipation coil hot and heavy in your core.

Jenna's hand drifted lower, palming you through the fabric of your underwear. You could feel yourself starting to harden, your body betraying the depth of your arousal despite your lingering nervousness.

Sensing your growing excitement, Jenna looked up at you, her eyes dark and filled with desire. "You're perfect," she breathed, her hand beginning to move in a slow, teasing rhythm. "Absolutely perfect."

You bit your lip, a soft gasp escaping you as your hips began to cant forward, seeking more of her touch. Jenna took that as her cue to slip her hand fully into your underwear, her fingers wrapping around your hardening length.

"Jenna," you gasped, your voice strained with a mix of pleasure and trepidation. She stroked you slowly, her grip gentle but purposeful, coaxing you to full hardness.

"Shh, just feel," she encouraged, her thumb swiping over the sensitive head, smearing the bead of moisture that had already gathered there.

Jenna slowly withdrew her hand from your pants, leaving you aching and wanting more. She could see the mix of emotions playing out across your face - the arousal, the nerves, the tentative trust in her.

With a soft smile, she leaned in to capture your lips in a slow, deep kiss. It was a kiss full of promise and reassurance, a silent vow that she would take care of you, would cherish you, no matter what.

After a long moment, Jenna pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss. With a coy smile, she reached for the hem of her own shirt, pulling it up and off in one smooth motion. She tossed it aside, leaving her torso bare, save for the simple lace of her bra.

Jenna lay back against the bed, the dark sheets a stunning contrast to her warm, glowing skin. She looked up at you with a playful, inviting smile, crooking a finger for you to join her.

"Come here, baby," she murmured, her voice low and enticing. "I want to feel you, all of you."

Hesitantly at first, you climbed onto the bed, settling yourself between Jenna's parted thighs. She guided your hips with gentle hands, urging you to settle against her core.

You could feel the heat of her even through your pants, the promise of her arousal evident in the way she shifted her hips to press more fully against you. Jenna's hands slid up your back, mapping the lines of your shoulder blades before coming to rest at your shoulders.

"Touch me," she breathed, her voice a needy whisper against your ear. "Please, touch me like I touched you."

Emboldened by her words, you slid a hand down her stomach, feeling the quivering of her muscles beneath your palm. You paused at the waistband of her pants, looking up at her for confirmation.

Jenna nodded, her eyes dark and filled with desperate anticipation. "Yes," she breathed. "Please, baby. I need to feel you."

With a deep breath, you popped the button on her pants, slowly lowering the zipper. Jenna lifted her hips, allowing you to tug her pants and panties down in one go. She kicked them off to the side, leaving her lower half bare before you.

Jenna watched you intently, her chest rising and falling with each anticipation-filled breath. She could see the hunger in your eyes as you took in the sight of her newly exposed skin, the way your gaze lingered on the swell of her breasts, barely contained by her lacy bra.

Feeling emboldened by your obvious desire, Jenna reached behind her back to unhook her bra. She let it fall away, revealing the soft, full curves of her breasts to your eager eyes. Her nipples were already hardened, a dusky pink against the warm brown of her skin.

Your own breathing grew heavier as you drank in the sight of her, your palms itching with the urge to explore every inch of her exposed skin. Slowly, almost reverently, you raised a hand to cup one of Jenna's breasts, marveling at the weight of it in your palm.

Jenna let out a soft moan as your hand cupped and gently squeezed her breast, her nipple hardening further against your palm. She arched into your touch, silently begging for more.

"You feel so good," she breathed, her voice husky with arousal. "I love your hands on me, baby."

Emboldened by her praise, you let your other hand drift down to the waistband of your own pants, slipping inside to wrap around your hard, aching length. You stroked yourself slowly, feeling the way you throbbed in your own grip.

Jenna's eyes widened as she watched you, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "Touch me," she pleaded, spreading her thighs a little wider.

Without hesitation, you tugged your pants and underwear down just enough to free your erection. It sprang up, hard and ready, the tip already glistening with arousal. Jenna reached down to spread her lower lips apart, revealing the swollen, needy folds of her pussy.

"Here," she breathed, guiding your hips forward until the head of your cock brushed against her slick, heated flesh. "Rub it against me. Make me feel good, baby."

You groaned at the contact, your hips instinctively starting to move. You rubbed the tip of your erection against her clit, feeling it throb and pulse against the sensitive nub. Jenna cried out, her back arching off the bed as jolts of pleasure shot through her.

Jenna's breath hitched as you began to rub the swollen head of your cock against her most sensitive flesh, her hips rocking instinctively to meet your touch. She could feel the heat and hardness of you, the way you throbbed against her with each pass over her aching clit.

"That feels so good, baby," she gasped out, her fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as she urged you on. "Don't stop. Keep touching me just like that."

You could feel her growing wetter by the second, her arousal coating your tip and dripping down to pool on the sheets below. The scent of her desire filled the air, sweet and heady, making your head spin with lust.

"Fuck, you're turning me on so much," Jenna panted, her eyes squeezing shut as she lost herself in the pleasure of your touch. "I love feeling you against me like this. Love knowing it's you, my beautiful girl, touching me."

Her praise spurred you on, and you doubled your efforts, rubbing faster and more firmly against her slick heat. Jenna's moans grew louder, more desperate, as the pressure built between her thighs.

Jenna's breath came in short, sharp gasps as you rubbed the tip of your erection against her dripping folds, her hips bucking up to meet each pass. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge, her body coiling with tension as the pleasure mounted.

"Please," she whimpered, her nails digging into the meat of your ass as she pulled you harder against her. "Please baby, I need more. I need to feel you inside me."

You hesitated for a moment, a flicker of nerves passing through you. "Are you sure?" you asked, your voice strained with the effort of holding back. "I don't want to hurt you."

Jenna looked up at you, her dark eyes blazing with love and desire. "You could never hurt me," she breathed, reaching up to cup your cheek with a trembling hand. "I trust you, baby. I want this, want you, so much."

She guided your hips with her hands, positioning you at her entrance. "Slowly," she urged, her voice a needy whisper. "Take your time. I want to feel every inch of you as you fill me up."

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you began to push forward. Jenna gasped as the head of your cock breached her entrance, her walls fluttering around you. You paused, letting her adjust to the stretch, before slowly, steadily, pushing in deeper.

You felt Jenna's walls stretching around your length as you slowly pushed deeper inside her, inch by hard inch. She was so tight, so hot and slick and perfect. You had to pause a few times, catching your breath and trying to maintain control as her body slowly accommodated your size.

"Oh god, baby," Jenna gasped out, her back arching slightly off the bed. "You feel so big. So good." She looked up at you, her eyes hazy with pleasure and a deep, abiding love. "Don't stop. Keep going."

Emboldened by her words, you pushed on, sinking in a little deeper with each slow, steady thrust. Jenna's hands slid up your back, her nails raking lightly over your skin as she urged you on.

"Fuck, I’m so.. full," she whimpered, her hips rocking up to meet yours.

You could feel the pressure building in your core, the coil of heat winding tighter and tighter. But more than that, you could feel the love radiating off Jenna in waves, the sheer joy and contentment of being with you, of having you inside her.

With a final, deep thrust, you bottomed out, your hips pressed flush against hers. Jenna let out a shuddering moan as you filled her completely, her walls fluttering and clenching around your throbbing length. She wrapped her legs around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

You began to move, slowly at first, savoring the feeling of Jenna's tight heat enveloping you. She matched your rhythm, rolling her hips to meet yours, drawing you in deeper with each thrust.

"Fuck, baby," Jenna panted, her voice ragged with pleasure.

Her hands roamed over your back, tracing the lines of your muscles as they flexed and tightened with each movement. She pulled you down for a searing kiss, her tongue delving into your mouth to dance with yours.

You lost yourself in the kiss, in the feeling of her body beneath yours, surrounding you, accepting you completely. You could feel the pleasure building with each thrust, each roll of your hips, each breathy praise falling from Jenna's lips.

"Yes, just like that," Jenna encouraged, her voice a needy whisper against your ear.

Jenna's fingers dug into the flesh of your ass as she urged you on, pulling you harder and deeper with each thrust.

She rolled her hips to meet yours, taking you in even deeper. The new angle had you both moaning, the pleasure building with each pass over her most sensitive spots.

"That's it, my pretty girl," Jenna praised, her voice a low, lust-filled murmur. "Don't stop. Keep fucking me just like that."

Jenna could feel your length pulsing and throbbing inside her, growing harder and more insistent with each passing second. She could tell you were getting close, your movements becoming more urgent and desperate.

"Baby," she gasped out, her fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as she held you tight.

She brought your forehead down to rest against her own, wanting to watch your face as you lost yourself in the pleasure. Her dark eyes searched yours, filled with a deep, abiding love and a hunger for your climax.

"Let go, my pretty girl," she whispered, her breath mingling with yours.

Jenna's words, spoken in that low, seductive tone, sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel the pressure building to a crescendo, your body tensing and coiling like a tightly wound spring.

"I'm close," you gasped out, your hips starting to stutter and lose their rhythm. "Jenna, fuck. I'm going to come."

Jenna's eyes flashed with a fierce, loving intensity as she felt you start to lose control. She held your gaze, her forehead still pressed against yours, as she whispered urgently.

"Give it to me, baby. Let me have all of you."

Her words, spoken with such raw, desperate need, were the final push you required.

"Jenna!" you cried out, your voice echoing off the walls as you came undone.

Jenna gasped as she felt your length pulsing and throbbing hard inside her, your hot seed spurting forth to coat her deepest depths. She held you tight, her walls clenching down around you, milking every last drop as you rode out the waves of your pleasure.

"Fuck yes," Jenna moaned, her voice ragged and filled with awe. "I can feel you coming, baby. You're so fucking sexy."

She captured your mouth in a searing, passionate kiss, swallowing your cries of ecstasy as you emptied yourself inside her. You could feel her own peak building, your climax pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

Jenna's moans grew louder, more desperate, as she felt your hot seed filling her up. The sensation of you coming inside her, combined with the raw, primal passion of the moment, sent her hurtling towards her own peak.

"Don't stop, don't stop," she chanted, her voice a needy, breathless litany. "I'm so close, baby.”

She wrapped her legs around you even tighter, locking her ankles at the small of your back. Her hands gripped your shoulders, nails digging into your skin as she pulled you down, burying you inside her as deep as you could go.

Jenna's body began to tremble and shake, her walls starting to flutter and clench around your still-throbbing length. She was right on the cusp, teetering on the brink of a massive, earth-shattering climax.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she whimpered, her hips bucking wildly against yours. "I'm coming, I'm coming!"

With a sharp cry of your name, Jenna came undone. Her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing and shaking as pleasure exploded through every nerve ending. Her walls clamped down around you like a vice, rippling and pulsing as she rode out the intense, mind-numbing ecstasy.

Jenna clung to you tightly as the aftershocks of her intense orgasm washed over her, her body still trembling and quaking with the force of it. She buried her face in the crook of your neck, her breath coming in ragged, shuddering gasps as she slowly came down from her high.

For a long moment, you simply held each other, basking in the afterglow of your shared passion. The room was filled with the sounds of your mingled breaths and the soft, sated sighs of contentment.

Finally, Jenna leaned back slightly to look up at you, her dark eyes glazed but shining with a deep, abiding love and satisfaction. A slow, lazy smile spread across her face as she reached up to cup your cheek with a trembling hand.

"My beautiful girl," she murmured, her voice a low, intimate rasp. "That was... incredible. Better than anything I could have ever imagined."

She took a deep, shuddering breath before continuing, her smile softening into something more tender and affectionate.

"I waited so long for that moment, baby. Two long years of wanting you, of dreaming about having you like this. And it was worth every second of the wait."

Jenna leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, pouring all of her love and gratitude into the gentle caress. When she finally pulled back, she rested her forehead against yours, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the closeness and intimacy of the moment.

"I love you," she whispered, her voice filled with a fierce, unwavering devotion.

“I love you too.”

—

REQUEST: can you do smut with Jenna Ortega—it’s been two years since her and reader have been dating yet she doesn’t know why reader keeps refusing her when shes trying to go further than a makeout, it was fine until Jenna started to overthink, if she was pretty or attractive in reader’s eyes, but in truth, reader is just insecure about her body (top reader, female or gp but preferably gp!reader)

[minswriting]

virgin!spencer + dryhumping 😩🙏

nsfw | mdni | spencer reid x reader | you wake up to spencer humping your thigh, somnophilia (?)

you and spencer have been dating for a few months and haven’t really done anything sexual yet. you’ve made out, groped one another, but haven’t really gone farther than that. it wasn’t much of an issue for you. spencer was a virgin and you wanted to ensure he was ready before initiating anything.

which is why it surprised you when you woke up in the middle of the night, entangled in spencer’s arms as he rutted his cock against your thigh in his sleep. you knew he wasn’t awake, judging by the way his lips were parted and face still relaxed. but the subtle movement his of hips against your thigh certainly didn’t go unnoticed.

you laid there for a moment, unsure of what to do before gently bringing your hand to spencer’s cheek and caressing it. “spencer,” you whispered softly, knowing he was a pretty light sleeper.

“hmm?” he hummed, taking a deep breath before opening his eyes, his face showing that he had just woken up. “is everything okay? what’s up?” he said groggily.

you pursed your lips for a moment, glancing down at how spencer had his legs intertwined with yours and his cock still pressed against your thigh, before looking back at spencer. “good dream?” you asked.

and suddenly, spencer blushed deeply as he realized why you had woken him up. he had been rubbing his cock against you while dreaming about fucking you. he was about to pull away, to scurry off of you and get up but you stopped him, putting a hand on his torso to keep him still. “i-i-i’m so sorry,” spencer stuttered out, looking embarrassed.

“why are you sorry?” you asked softly, biting your bottom lip.

“because i was just rubbing myself against you,” spencer squeaked out, still very much embarrassed. he groaned, wanting to desperately to just go and hide.

“tell me what you were dreaming about, baby.” you murmured, looking at spencer with a gaze that spencer couldn’t quite understand, causing him to pause his internal freak out.

“why?” he whispered.

“because you’re still so hard and i want to hear what you were dreaming about,” you practically purred as you maneuvered yourself so that spencer’s cock was pressed against your clothed cunt.

the action caused spencer to whimper as realization hit him that you liked it. you liked that he was rutting against you in his sleep. “you,” spencer said as his voice cracked.

“what about me, baby?”

spencer let out a shaky breath as he gripped your waist. “i-i was dreaming about h-having sex with you,” he whispered as though it was a life changing secret. he couldn’t help the jolt of his hips as he thought about fucking you again, the dream still prominent on his brain. that small action caused you both to let out whimpers as he rubbed his cock against your clothed cunt.

you swallowed, moving your hips gently against spencer’s. “yeah?” you breathed out. “i’d love to have sex with you.”

spencer couldn’t help the whine that left his lips as you started moving your hips against his cock. the feeling was so much, so new to him and yet he adored it. “want to feel you around me so bad,” he moaned quietly. he moved his hips in sync with yours, not caring about anything else when your clothed cunt felt so good against his clothed cock.

you hummed in response. “i can’t wait to finally feel you inside of me,” you whispered, leaning in to press your lips against spencer’s. “been fingering myself so much thinking about your cock.”

and that was all spencer needed to hear before he let out a choked moan and pressed himself against you even more as his hips stuttered and he came in his pajama pants. “o-oh my-“ he said, throwing his head back. you continued to move against him, letting him ride out his orgasm before stopping.

you grinned as you looked at spencer. seeing him cum was the hottest thing you have witnessed. and it was safe to say that after that, neither of you waited much longer to finally have sex together.

[saintjosie]

yesterday i had something of a personal revelation regarding my internalized ableism.

i have pretty bad vision and extreme audio processing disorder. i can see about six inches in front of my face clearly without glasses and i frequently have to ask people to repeat themselves or get really confused because i mishear things or just don’t understand the word that someone said.

yesterday i was talking to jessica who was across the room except i didn’t have my glasses on. and i stopped her and said “hold on baby pause, i can’t understand you because i don’t have my glasses on”.

and it took a bit of buffering time but i realized that a huge part of the reason that i couldn’t understand what she was saying was because i wasn’t able to see her mouth moving while she talked. and suddenly it dawned on me, that reading lips, something i’ve always been inexplicably good at, is actually a skill i developed as compensation for my disability.

and a new level of understanding regarding my various disabilities and internalized ableism unlocked in my brain. all of the times i have been told im bad at listening from my parents. all the times my teachers berated me for not paying attention. all of the times a friend of partner was upset with me because they assumed i wasn’t listening to them. i developed a skill just so that i wouldn’t disappoint them by pretending that i didn’t have a disability.

to my younger self, i’m sorry that i wasn’t kind to you. i’m sorry you didn’t get the support or understanding you needed as a child. i’m learning now and im beginning to forgive myself for it.

[holyblonded]

return of media day | stargirl

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader

summary: you are about to drop your first signature cleats with nike and they decide to do a joint shoot with alexia

warnings: rfef mentioned 😐

notes: this was extremely cute y’all. it’s a bit short but i couldn’t think of anything else to add. tell me what else yall want to see with this series!!

You were already half-asleep in the car on the way to the shoot, having just landed back in Spain after international break. Nike hadn’t given you too many details about today, just that it was important and you had to be there.

So naturally, you showed up in a hoodie, sweatpants, and slides, looking like you had just crawled out of hibernation. You walked onto set, rubbing your eyes, only to freeze in place.

“There’s no way,” you muttered, blinking rapidly.

You turned away, rubbed your eyes again, then looked back to confirm you weren’t hallucinating.

“ALE!”

Alexia barely had time to react before you full-speed sprinted at her and jumped, forcing her to catch you mid-air. Alexia let out a surprised grunt as you crashed into her, legs wrapping around her waist like some kind of overly excited koala.

Her first instinct was to scold you, but an involuntary smile spread across her face as she held you. “You’re so dramatic.” She huffed, adjusting her grip to keep you from sliding to the floor. “You do realize I’m not a crash pad, right?”

You ignored her, squeezing tighter. “I knew I wasn’t hallucinating.”

“You thought you were hallucinating?” Alexia chuckled, finally setting you down.

“I’ve been awake since five a.m., Ale. I didn’t even know where I was going today. Nike just shoved me into a car and told me to smile.” You pulled back slightly, holding her shoulders as if to make sure she was actually real. “And then I see you? My brain short-circuited.”

Alexia smirked. “Understandable. Seeing me is a life-changing experience.”

You lightly smacked her arm. “Don’t make me regret missing you.”

By now, everyone on set had stopped what they were doing, watching your reunion with varying degrees of amusement. A cameraman filming the behind-the-scenes content caught the whole thing, likely already thinking about how to turn it into a dramatic slow-motion edit.

“Wait—” Alexia suddenly furrowed her brows, looking around the studio. “Why are you here?”

“Why am I here?” you repeated, blinking. “Why are you here?”

Alexia gave you a deadpan look. “I work with Nike.”

“Well, so do I,” you shot back, placing your hands on your hips.

A pause. Then, ever so slowly, the realization dawned on both of you.

“Oh my god,” Alexia exhaled, eyes widening.

“No way,” you whispered dramatically.

“You’re the shoot?” Alexia asked, pointing at you.

“And you’re part of it?” you gasped, pointing right back.

“Did neither of you read your emails?” one of the Nike reps finally interjected, rubbing their temples.

You and Alexia turned to them, completely unapologetic.

“Absolutely not,” you said in unison.

Alexia shook her head with a fond smile, draping an arm over your shoulders. “Well, I guess this just got a lot more interesting.”

You grinned. “And a lot more chaotic.”

The Nike rep sighed, muttering something about “athletes and their aversion to reading”, before motioning for the crew to resume setting up.

Meanwhile, you leaned into Alexia, still grinning like an idiot. “Hey, Ale?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you miss me?”

Alexia rolled her eyes, pulling you closer. “Unfortunately.”

The interview started off smooth. Professional. Standard media day questions.

The crew had set up the cameras, the lights were bright, and the atmosphere was lighthearted. You and Alexia sat side by side, answering questions about the new cleats, the upcoming season, and your goals.

Then, someone asked, “How would you describe each other’s playing styles?”

Alexia hummed, tilting her head thoughtfully. You turned to look at her, fully expecting a compliment, maybe even some poetic analysis of your skills.

Instead, she casually dropped, “Estrella is… chaotic.”

Your mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”

“But effective,” she added, holding up her hands like that softened the blow. “You never know what she’s going to do next. It’s terrifying.”

You scoffed. “Wow. That’s crazy. You know, I was gonna be nice, but now?” You turned to the camera, shaking your head in mock disappointment. “Alexia is a control freak.”

Alexia gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest like you had personally insulted her entire family. “I am not a control freak.”

“Oh, you so are.”

“I just like order,” she defended, crossing her arms.

“You demand order,” you corrected, smirking. “Everything has to go exactly how you see it in your mind, and if someone does something unpredictable, you short-circuit for a second before trying to control the chaos.”

Alexia opened her mouth, then closed it, then sighed. “Okay, maybe. But that’s a good thing.”

You snorted. “Yeah, yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night, Capitana.”

Alexia narrowed her eyes playfully before turning back to the camera. “Well, since we’re being honest, I stand by what I said, chaotic, unpredictable, borderline reckless—”

“Hey!”

“—but effective,” she repeated, laughing.

You turned to the interviewer, pointing at Alexia. “This is why she stresses me out.”

Alexia raised an eyebrow. “You stress me out.”

The media crew was loving it. The interviewer barely held in their laughter.

“Alright, so if you had to pick one word to describe each other’s playing style?” they prompted.

Alexia didn’t even hesitate. “Unhinged.”

You let out a dramatic gasp. “That is so rude!”

“You’ve literally nutmegged someone while tying your shoe,” Alexia shot back. “I rest my case.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Fine. If I’m unhinged, then you’re bossy.”

Alexia smirked. “I am your captain, you know.”

“And I am your problem,” you teased back.

The media crew burst out laughing as Alexia groaned, throwing her head back.

“You are a menace.”

“And you love me.”

Alexia sighed, shaking her head with a smile. “Unfortunately.”

The interview wrapped up, but the banter continued as you walked off set.

“Chaotic?” you muttered. “That’s crazy. I bring excitement.”

“You bring stress,” Alexia corrected.

“Same thing.”

“Absolutely not.”

You smirked. “Admit it, though. You love playing with me.”

Alexia gave you a side glance, shaking her head. “I tolerate it.”

You grinned, throwing an arm around her shoulder. “I’ll take it.”

Everything was going smoothly—well, as smoothly as anything involving you ever could—until it was time to officially start the photoshoot for your signature cleats.

You stood in the center of the set, cleats laced up, lights shining, the Nike crew prepped and ready to go. Just as they were about to start, you clapped your hands together.

“Wait, hold on,” you said, making everyone pause. “Before we do this, we need to discuss the name of my cleats.”

Alexia, sitting off to the side watching, sighed deeply, already sensing disaster.

The Nike reps exchanged nervous glances.

“Alright, so,” you began confidently, “I was thinking we call them The Menace Ones.”

A heavy silence settled over the room.

“No,” Alexia said immediately.

“Okay, okay,” you continued, undeterred. “The Chaos Touch?”

“No.”

“The Ankle Breakers?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Nutmeg 3000?”

“Please stop talking,” Alexia groaned.

You turned to the Nike crew, hoping for support, but they all seemed too afraid to challenge Alexia’s authority.

“Fine, fine,” you huffed dramatically. “I’ll be normal about it.”

Alexia narrowed her eyes, clearly unconvinced.

For the next twenty minutes, you behaved. You posed, dribbled, and shot dramatic looks at the camera like a professional. Everything was going perfectly.

Then came the first break and you disappeared.

Five minutes later, you returned, dressed head to toe in an Adidas tracksuit. The entire room fell into stunned silence.

Alexia’s eyes widened in pure disbelief as she stared at you. “No.”

“What?” you said innocently, adjusting the collar of the jacket. “We’re on break.”

“TAKE THAT OFF,” Alexia demanded, already storming toward you.

“I just thought I’d switch things up—”

Before you could finish, she grabbed your arm and started dragging you toward the changing room.

“You are going to get us both killed,” she muttered through gritted teeth.

“You have to admit it’s a little funny,” you said, barely suppressing your grin.

Alexia shot you a glare. “You are lucky Nike likes you.”

“And you are lucky I love you enough to go change.”

Alexia sighed heavily, releasing you with one final warning look. “If you come out in Puma next, I’m leaving.”

The camera zooms in on your cleats as you spin them in your hands, running your fingers over the details. The black leather shimmers slightly under the studio lights, gold speckles running along the sides like stars scattered across the night sky. The laces are a deep navy, and the sole glows with a metallic silver finish. A rich purple fades into the black near the heel, blending seamlessly like the sky at dusk.

You smile softly, tilting the shoe toward the camera.

“These are the Estrella 001s—my first signature boots with Nike,” you say, voice filled with quiet pride. “The name comes from my nickname, Estrella, which means ‘star’ in Spanish. But it’s more than that.”

You turn the boot over, showing the gold lettering on the back heel tab, where Estrella 001 is printed vertically in a clean script.

“For me, stars have always meant guidance. I used to look up at them when I felt lost, like they were the only things that stayed constant. They remind me of my past, my struggles… everything that made me me.”

The camera pans over the subtle red and yellow stitching near the tongue of the cleat.

“This is for where I come from. Barcelona, Spain,” you continue. “I might not play for Spain anymore, but it’s still my home. It’s where I fell in love with football. Where I met the people who shaped me. I’ll never forget that.”

You flip the boot back over, running your thumb over the inside, where a tiny phrase is stitched in white.

“It says, ‘Siempre pa’lante.’ Always forward. That’s something Ale taught me when I was going through a tough time. I didn’t always believe it, but she did. And now? Now I do too.”

You set the cleat down and glance toward the camera, a small smile playing on your lips.

“But I wouldn’t be here without my family. My real family.”

Your eyes flick over to Alexia, standing off-camera.

“When Ale took me in, she gave me something I didn’t think I’d ever have again. A home. A place to belong. Someone who loved me without conditions.” You pause, voice thick with emotion. “She didn’t have to, but she did. And I’ll never be able to thank her enough for that.”

The camera smoothly shifts toward Alexia, who is very obviously blinking back tears, her lips pressed together tightly as she tries (and fails) to hold it together.

You grin. “Are you crying?”

She sniffs, shaking her head. “No.”

You smirk, standing up and walking over. “She’s crying.”

“I’m not—”

Before she can finish, you wrap your arms around her waist, pulling her into a tight hug. She exhales sharply, but her arms immediately come up to hold you close.

The camera catches the soft, warm moment between you two.

“You took me in,” you murmured. “You didn’t have to. But you did.”

Alexia’s arms tightened around you. “You were mine the second I saw you.”

You squeezed her tighter, voice thick. “Thank you for loving me, Ale.”

She kissed your forehead, whispering softly. “Siempre pa’lante, mi niña.”

[bunji-enthusiast]

Is the request on? and can I request a Sonic, Shadow, Silver(separately)after finishing battling Eggman's badniks sees the reader's hair was now short basically during the battle, the reader got their hair cut short when dodging the attack and now has short hair, how do they react to their new hairstyle?

Kickin And Ballin’

Note || we love badassery over here, specially when it involves haircuts cause of combat. HEHEEHEH-

Characters || Sonic, Shadow, Silver

WC || 417

Sonic The Hedgehog

At first, he panicked, oxygen catching in his chest as he saw the attack narrowly hit you. Sonic wasn’t necessarily a huge fan of his friends getting hurt, especially on his watch. He uses the full potential of his speed, taking out the last of the remaining badniks. Eggman relented in defeat, shouting as he had flown away that he would get him the next time around. 

Sonic zoomed over to you, seeing that you were now just fine. He internally sighed in relief that you were okay, no major injuries at all. However, you seemed to have a new change branding your former appearance. 

Your hair was shorter!

Shadow The Hedgehog

Trusting others wasn’t his greatest strength, but with you it came easy to him. Shadow knew you, and you knew him. Back to back you were faced in combat, but it was easy fot the two of you, eliminating every last badnik there was. Eggman unfortunately had already gotten away, but he waited for you to finish your fight. 

Narrowly you dodged an attack, for a moment it had caused a skipped beat in his heart. Shadow remained still and calm, immediately realizing that you were not hurt. You took no longer in beating your opponent, taking out the badnik. 

The hedgehog realized your new change in appearance, commenting on it, “That looks…” He paused, arms crossed as he searched for a word.

“Horrible?” You grinned, letting out a chuckle as you scratched the back of your head. 

Shadow shook his head, lips cracking in sincerity, “No, beautiful.”

Silver The Hedgehog

A couple of badniks were nothing to him, though sometimes he was caught off guard. Silver threw them far away, though he was surprised that you had dodged an attack from one of your opponents, but upon looking closer Silver had a recognition that you were just fine; something different had happened instead. 

Silver waited for you to finish with the badnik, then threw in the last punch in your stead. You turned to him with a huffy face, which in turn had him sweating a little bit, he waved his hands in surrender. But seeing how you looked now, he was awe-struck.  

Merely by the fact how one little do-over can really change one’s appearance, he was mostly stuck in a trance, saying you looked amazing. He blushed and said that he had meant it in a good way. 

You teased him of course, but you knew what he meant.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Turning Tables

Summary: The team finds you and Spencer, you come back to work after recovering, things are tense. Spencer realizes he messed up, but you're not so quick to forgive.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: suggestive content (16+), mentions of hookup culture, talks of cases, reader is heavily assaulted by unsub, broken bones, dumb man Spencer, missed signals, bad communication

Word count: 6.9k

a/n: hiii there will be a part three!!

main masterlist part one part three

The team finally found the two of you in the abandoned warehouse, but the sight they came upon was brutal. Spencer had a black eye and a split lip from being hit, his face bruised and bloodied, but you— you had taken the worst of it. The unsub had unleashed relentless violence on you. You’d been slapped, punched, kicked, spit on, cut, and thrown around like a ragdoll. The unsub’s twisted plan was clear: break Spencer by hurting you, the "weaker" hostage, using your suffering to force him into talking. But you both knew that wasn’t an option. Spencer couldn’t give the unsub what he wanted, no matter how much it tore him apart to watch you take those blows.

Every hit that landed on you felt like it was striking Spencer himself. He watched, helpless, feeling the pain of every blow as though it was his own flesh being torn and bruised. Yet he remained silent, knowing that any begging or pleading from him would only make the unsub escalate. He couldn’t give them that. He couldn’t put you through more than what you were already enduring, though it felt like it was killing him inside to watch.

When the team finally stormed in, you were unconscious, your body battered and limp as they carted you away on a stretcher to the waiting ambulance. Hotch approached Spencer, his voice calm but filled with concern as he asked, "What happened to Y/N?"

Spencer, sitting in the back of another ambulance, stared blankly ahead. His shoulders were slumped, weighed down by the guilt and horror of what had transpired. His voice was quiet, flat. “She was the target.”

Hotch took in Spencer's empty gaze, the exhaustion and anguish etched into every line of his face, and knew better than to press for more. They’d have to wait until you woke up to understand the full scope of what happened in that warehouse. But even then, Hotch feared that some wounds might never truly heal.

—

You eventually did wake up, groggy but relieved to find that, despite the brutality you endured, you had very little internal damage. The doctors assured you that your body just needed time to heal. Two weeks of paid leave were granted as you recovered, a rare gesture of empathy from Chief Strauss, who seemed to have a soft spot for you.

As the painkillers faded and your mind cleared, the questions from your team began. You sat with them, still feeling tender but able to think straight, recounting everything you remembered from that night. You and Spencer had been investigating a house, following up on an anonymous tip. It seemed routine until the moment you two split up to check different rooms. That’s when it happened—ambushed from behind, a cloth drenched in chloroform shoved over your mouth. After that, everything went black.

"I only remember waking up inside the warehouse with Spencer," you explained, your voice steady but laced with tension. The memories still fresh, the pain still vivid. "The unsub wanted me. I was the real target. They said I was more of a challenge than any of their other victims."

JJ, sitting beside you, asked softly, her voice gentle and careful. “Why did they take Spencer?”

You heaved a breath, feeling the weight of the answer on your chest. “They thought if they took him too, they could find out where the rest of the team was. They wanted Spencer to tell you all it was a dead end, to send you off on a different trail.” You paused, your breath shaking as you continued. “They said if Spencer did that, they’d release him. But they made it clear… they just wanted me.”

The room was silent for a moment, the gravity of your words hanging in the air. Your team exchanged glances, but no one said anything. They didn’t need to. You all understood what it meant—that the unsub was willing to let Spencer go, but you were never supposed to walk out of that warehouse alive.

—

When you returned to work after your leave, the atmosphere shifted. The entire team was happy to have you back, and there were warm smiles all around. Spencer, however, seemed unsure how to approach you now. Still, he smiled as you passed by, his voice tentative yet sincere as he said, “I’m really glad you’re back and feeling better.”

You returned the smile, a brief and polite response escaping your lips. “Thanks, Spencer. I appreciate it.” The exchange was short, almost too brief, and you both seemed to sense the unspoken tension lingering between you. It didn’t go unnoticed, especially not by JJ, who had grown close to you since the incident. She had been your rock, someone you confided in more and more. 

When she found a quiet moment alone with you, JJ slipped into the conversation with ease. “Hey, how’s your first day back?” she asked with her trademark smile, though there was a hint of something deeper in her tone.

You shrugged lightly, trying to mask any unease. “Same as usual, I guess. It feels good to be working again, though. I was getting restless at home.”

JJ laughed knowingly, nodding. “I know exactly what you mean.” Then, her voice dropped, softer now, as she leaned in slightly. “Did something happen between you and Spence?”

The question caught you off guard, your brows knitting in surprise. Did Spencer say something to her? You quickly tried to brush it off with a joke. “Other than, you know, getting kidnapped together? Not that I know of.”

But JJ wasn’t convinced. She made a face like she wasn’t buying your casual response. “Are you sure? You two haven’t really been talking much. I guess I just assumed something like that would have brought you closer… in a weird, awful sort of way.”

You let out a short laugh, trying to deflect again. “Yeah… we didn’t get the trauma bonding memo, I guess.”

JJ still looked skeptical, her eyes scanning your face for cracks in your armor. “Okay, well… just, if you need to talk, I’m here. You don’t have to go through anything alone.”

Her offer was genuine, and the sincerity in her voice made you pause. You smiled back at her, feeling a small but comforting warmth settle in. “Thanks, JJ. I really appreciate that.”

Across the bullpen, Spencer had been listening to the conversation from his desk, his heart aching at what JJ was implying. He’d been mulling over the same thought—that the trauma you both went through should have drawn you closer. Shared experiences like that often created a bond, an unspoken connection forged in survival. But instead, he could feel the distance between you growing wider, and it tore him up inside.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how hard this must be for you, how you were facing it all alone. You were still relatively new to the team, and as far as Spencer knew, this was your first time being kidnapped. After his first time, he had shut everyone out. Granted, he’d been addicted to drugs back then, but that isolation still hadn’t been the right path. It had only deepened the pain, and he feared you might be doing the same thing.

He could only hope you were receiving the support you needed—support he wasn’t sure he could give you anymore.

—

Later that week, you found yourself in the kitchen, trying to ignore the sharp ache in your side as you reached for a mug to make tea. The pain in your ribs flared up with every stretch, the broken bones protesting loudly. As your arm extended toward the cupboard, the burning sensation became unbearable, and you yelped, clutching your side in an attempt to steady yourself.

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice was filled with concern as he walked into the room just in time to see you wince in pain. He was by your side in an instant, his hands hovering uncertainly, as if he wanted to help but wasn’t sure how far he could go. “Are you okay?”

You grunted, trying to downplay the pain. “I’m fine, just... need a mug.”

Spencer gave a small, understanding nod before stepping in to help. He reached up with ease, grabbing the mug he knew was your favorite—the one you always used for your tea. “Here,” he said softly, placing it on the counter in front of you. “Making tea?”

A small flutter stirred in your chest at the realization that he remembered both your favorite mug and your preference for tea. It was such a small detail, but it felt significant in that moment, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond that still lingered between you despite everything.

—

You laughed as you watched Spencer pour himself yet another cup of coffee. “It’s three in the afternoon, Spencer! Who drinks coffee this late?”

Spencer chuckled along with you, lifting his cup with a playful grin. “Me! Obviously!” he said, gesturing toward the steaming mug with a mock sense of pride.

You bumped his hip with yours, gently nudging him out of the way as you reached for the kettle. “Well, some of us actually like to sleep,” you teased, your tone light and playful.

What you didn’t notice was the way Spencer had stared at you after that, a soft, affectionate gaze lingering on your face, the kind of look that held more meaning than words could express.

—

“Yeah, thanks,” you sighed, knowing you needed the help but still feeling a little self-conscious about it.

Without missing a beat, Spencer grabbed your favorite tea from the cupboard and began steeping it for you, his movements calm and precise. He didn’t ask if you needed more assistance—he just did it, like he knew exactly what you needed in that moment. It was a silent kindness, one that reminded you of the Spencer you knew before everything had gotten so complicated.

As the tea steeped, you leaned back slightly, watching him with gratitude and lingering uncertainty. The simplicity of the moment, of him helping you with something as mundane as making tea, felt like a brief return to the way things used to be between you.

“Do you need help with anything else?” Spencer asked, his gaze fixed on the steaming mug in front of him rather than meeting your eyes. His tone was casual, but there was something tense beneath it, something unspoken that lingered between the two of you.

You frowned, feeling a bit of confusion and then a flicker of annoyance rising up. Was he only doing this out of guilt? You straightened up slightly, crossing your arms over your chest despite the ache in your ribs.

“Look, I appreciate your help, but you don’t have to suck up to me because of what happened,” you said, your words sharper than you intended. You regretted it immediately, but the frustration had been bubbling beneath the surface for a while now—how careful everyone was being around you, how things with Spencer had grown so strange and distant since the kidnapping.

Spencer froze for a moment, his hand still resting on the counter as he absorbed your words. His jaw tightened, and for a second, he didn’t move or say anything. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but steady. “I’m not… sucking up to you.”

You huffed, unsure where this conversation was heading but feeling the tension building between you. “Then what is this? You’ve barely said two words to me since I came back, and now suddenly you’re… what? Trying to make up for it by being overly nice?”

Spencer’s shoulders stiffened, and he finally turned to face you, his expression guarded. “I’m just trying to help,” he said, his voice measured, like he was trying not to let his own emotions show. “I know things are… different now. But I didn’t want to push you into talking or pretending everything’s okay if it’s not. That’s all.”

The frustration in you wavered, your annoyance softening as you realized he wasn’t trying to guilt-trip or coddle you. He was as lost in this new dynamic as you were, both of you navigating the aftermath of something you hadn’t fully processed. His hesitation wasn’t about sucking up—it was about not knowing how to be around you anymore.

“I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything,” you said, your voice quieter now. “You don’t have to fix this, or me.”

Spencer's eyes softened slightly as he watched you, his own uncertainty flickering across his face. “I’m not trying to fix anything,” he said, almost a whisper now. “I just… don’t want to make things worse.”

The weight of his words settled between you, and suddenly the air felt heavy, filled with everything you both hadn’t said since the warehouse.

“Worse, right,” you scoffed, the bitterness lacing your voice before you could stop it. “Sorry I started an awful chain of events.” You could feel the hurt bubbling up again, the weight of rejection you’d been carrying ever since that day in the warehouse. It wasn’t just the physical pain—it was the emotional bruise left behind, the wound that hadn’t healed.

Spencer looked at you, his expression faltering. He opened his mouth as if to respond but then hesitated, unsure of how to mend what had already spiraled so far out of control. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said softly, his words stumbling out in a rush. “We were under a lot of stress… sometimes people say things they don’t mean, searching for comfort.”

You felt your heart drop at his words. He thought it was just a fleeting moment, something you’d said out of desperation. That stung worse than anything. You blinked back the frustration and the tears that were threatening to spill over, the pain in your side flaring as you tried to catch your breath.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and stormed out, the door to the break room slamming behind you with a sharp, echoing crack.

Spencer stood there, stunned, the sound of the door slamming reverberating in the silence. He hadn’t meant to make things worse. He didn’t realize until it was too late that you hadn’t just left the conversation—you had left the room entirely, and maybe… left something between you both behind.

He clenched his hands into fists, a knot tightening in his stomach. He didn’t know how to make this right, how to undo the damage that had already been done. All he knew was that you had walked away and it felt as if he was losing you for good.

—

Things on the team settled into a new rhythm, even if it wasn’t quite the same. Everyone seemed to accept that you and Spencer were no longer as close as you had once been, though there was an undercurrent of tension. The two of you weren’t assigned together anymore, and that seemed to smooth things out for the most part. But it didn’t go unnoticed that Spencer kept a quiet distance, while you partnered up with Derek in the field.

Spencer couldn’t shake the bitterness that crept in when he saw you with Derek. He couldn’t help but wonder if Hotch had reassigned you because he thought Spencer couldn’t protect you, that you needed someone strong like Derek to keep you safe. The thought left him feeling sour, inadequate, like he’d somehow failed. But then, just as quickly, he’d get mad at himself for even thinking that way. You didn’t need protecting. You were more than capable of handling yourself in the field. You had survived worse than most, even if he couldn’t bear to watch it happen.

What gnawed at him most, though, was how happy you seemed with Derek. The way you laughed and joked with him, talking easily like you once did with Spencer. It stirred something ugly inside him, something he didn’t want to admit. He couldn’t deny that Derek was the kind of man who seemed perfect—strong, confident, and charming. A man who could sweep anyone off their feet. He hated that it bothered him, but he’d never allow himself to admit that he was afraid you’d fall for Derek. That kind of jealousy was too much to confront.

You, on the other hand, were content with your new partnership. Derek was easygoing and didn’t pry into your personal life. He let you manage things on your own terms, only asking questions when you willingly brought something up. It was a refreshing change, especially after everything that had happened with Spencer. You didn’t want to talk about what had gone wrong. You were too embarrassed, too ashamed of how vulnerable you had felt. It was easier to leave it behind, buried where no one could see the cracks.

But despite the professional ease, there was still a part of you that missed what you and Spencer once had, even if you’d never admit that either.

—

On one particular case, you and Derek celebrated the capture of an unsub with a big, triumphant hug. In the heat of the moment, you jumped into his arms, and he caught you effortlessly, spinning you around as the rest of the team cheered. It had been the two of you who made the breakthrough that led to the unsub’s hideout, and everyone was thrilled. You were beaming, caught up in the excitement of the team.

But Spencer, standing on the sidelines, was stewing. His mind kept replaying the mistake he had made, the detail he had missed that Derek had caught. And now, it was Derek who had caught you, too. Watching the two of you laughing, hugging, and celebrating felt like a punch to his gut. His insecurities gnawed at him, building into a quiet anger that simmered beneath the surface.

The rest of the team, however, smiled at the sight of you, happy to see you so joyful and healed enough to engage in lighthearted horseplay with Derek. The dark cloud that had followed you since the kidnapping seemed to have lifted, and it was a relief to everyone.

When the team returned to Quantico, Penelope was quick to corral everyone for celebratory drinks at the local bar. You stuck close to JJ and Penelope, grateful for their company as the night went on. After a few drinks, they pulled you out onto the dance floor, laughter bubbling up between the three of you as the music played. You let yourself go, dancing with JJ and Penelope, the worries of the past few months fading in the glow of the evening.

But it wasn’t until Derek joined you girls on the dance floor that something shifted. Spencer, sitting at the bar, felt a surge of jealousy flood through him. Derek was there again, touching your arm, laughing with you, spinning you around as the girls cheered. Spencer’s vision blurred with red-hot anger, the insecurities and feelings he had been burying for weeks now boiling over.

Before he could think twice, Spencer stormed over, grabbing Derek by the arm and pulling him outside the bar. The sudden outburst left Derek confused, glancing at Spencer with genuine concern. “What the hell, Reid?” Derek asked, his voice sharp with confusion but tinged with worry. “Are you okay?”

Spencer was breathing heavily, steam practically pouring out of his ears as he glared at Derek. “Do you like her?” he snapped, his voice cracking with frustration.

Derek blinked, taken aback. “Who? Like who, Reid?”

“Y/N!” Spencer shouted, his voice louder than he intended. “You keep touching her, and dancing with her, and laughing like—like you’re trying to be with her!”

Derek’s face softened in realization, and he held up his hands defensively, trying to calm Spencer down. “Whoa, whoa, kid,” Derek said slowly, his tone measured. “You think something’s going on with me and Y/N?”

Spencer’s chest heaved as he struggled to control the emotions that had been brewing for so long. “I… I don’t know. I just—every time I see you with her, I can’t help but think you’re—”

Derek cut him off gently, shaking his head. “Spencer, man, it’s not like that. We’re friends. That’s it.”

But Spencer wasn’t ready to accept it. “Then why do you keep acting like that with her? I see it, Derek! You’re always laughing with her, touching her, like you’re… like you’re taking my place.”

Derek sighed, finally starting to understand what was bubbling beneath the surface. “Alright, Reid. What’s going on? ‘Taking your place’? You know Hotch was the one who reassigned us all. It’s just work, man.”

Spencer huffed in frustration, his foot kicking at the loose gravel beneath him. His mind raced, emotions swirling, but he couldn’t seem to piece together a coherent response. He felt like a rubber band stretched too far, about to snap, and it wasn’t just about work. He knew that much.

Derek watched him closely, reading the tension in Spencer’s body, the unease in his eyes. “That’s not what you meant, though, is it?” Derek questioned carefully, his tone soft but pressing for the truth.

Spencer’s shoulders tensed even further, his head dipping slightly as he tried to find the right words. “I… I don’t know,” he muttered, his voice shaky with frustration. He didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to confront what was really bothering him. But he also couldn’t stand feeling like this—watching from the sidelines, seeing you with Derek, seeing you laugh and smile like he wasn’t even part of your life anymore.

Derek took a step closer, lowering his voice so only Spencer could hear. “There’s more, isn’t there?” he asked, but he wasn’t accusing. He was just trying to get Spencer to open up, to confront whatever it was that had him spiraling.

Spencer clenched his fists at his sides, staring at the ground as his heart pounded. “I… I didn’t mean for there to be,” he admitted quietly, his voice strained. “It’s just… I don’t know how to be around her anymore. Everything’s different, and I—I don’t know how to fix it.”

Derek nodded slowly, understanding dawning. “You care about her. More than you’re letting on.”

Spencer’s silence was answer enough. He cared about you deeply—more than he had ever allowed himself to admit, even to himself. And now, watching you get closer to Derek while he kept his distance, it felt like he was losing you, piece by piece.

“I don’t know what happened in that warehouse," Derek began, his voice steady and understanding. "I read the report, but I’m sure there were some forgotten details… stuff that can’t be put into words.” He paused for a moment, giving Spencer a chance to process what he was saying. “If there’s something you need to tell her, just do it, Reid. Y/N isn’t the type to laugh at you or shut you out.”

Spencer sniffled, the tears coming against his will, his emotions too raw to hold back any longer. “I... I know that,” he whispered, his voice cracking under the strain. He wiped at his eyes, feeling small and overwhelmed. “I just want to go back to how things were,” he complained softly, his words sounding almost petulant, like a child wanting to undo what couldn’t be undone.

Derek’s heart softened at Spencer’s admission. He had seen this kind of pain before, knew how trauma could twist things, how it could fracture even the strongest of bonds. “That’s not gonna happen, kid,” Derek said with sympathy, shaking his head gently. “What happened to the two of you… that changes people. It changes the way you see the world, and it changes how you see each other.”

Spencer swallowed hard, feeling the weight of those words sink in. He knew Derek was right. He knew things had changed, that he had changed, and so had you. But hearing it made the ache in his chest sharper, more real.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t rebuild together,” Derek added, his voice hopeful. “It’s not about going back to how things were, Spencer. It’s about moving forward—together. You’ve both been through hell, but that doesn’t mean it’s over. You still have a chance.”

Spencer looked up at Derek, his eyes filled with uncertainty and vulnerability. “What if… what if it’s too late?”

Derek shook his head, giving Spencer’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It’s only too late if you give up on her. Don’t wait until you lose her for good before you try to fix things. You care about her, Reid. She needs to hear that from you.”

Spencer took a deep breath, nodding slightly, though the fear still gnawed at him. He didn’t know if he was ready, but one thing was certain—he couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t. He had to find the courage to face you, to face what had changed, and to see if there was still a chance to rebuild the connection he had feared was lost forever.

After their tense conversation outside the bar, Spencer headed home, deciding it was best not to linger. He didn’t want to ruin your night by bringing up anything uncomfortable, and the idea of watching you dance with Derek—or worse, with other men—was too much for him. The weight of jealousy and regret was already suffocating, and he needed space to figure out what he was really feeling.

It turned out to be a good thing he left when he did. After Spencer and Derek stepped outside, you were approached by a very handsome, very suave man. He had an easy charm about him, the kind that made conversation flow effortlessly. His flirtatious smile and smooth lines quickly caught your attention, and for the first time in a while, you felt yourself relax, enjoying the moment without overthinking it.

One drink turned into two, and before you knew it, the night had slipped away. The man offered to take you home, and in the haze of alcohol and the desire to forget the complicated feelings with Spencer, you agreed. You didn’t want to think about what had been left unsaid, about the tension between you and Spencer, or how much everything had changed.

That night, you went home with the charming stranger, eager to escape the weight of the unresolved emotions that had been building for weeks. But in the back of your mind, even as you tried to lose yourself in someone new, a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder if this was just another way of avoiding what you were really feeling.

—

That one night started a fire inside you, one that you hadn’t realized had been smoldering beneath the surface for so long. The realization that—even if it was just for a fleeting moment—you were wanted, desired, was intoxicating. After everything that had happened with Spencer, after feeling rejected and unsure of yourself, it was refreshing to be wanted without complications or emotional baggage.

The feeling of being desired, even if only for one night at a time, ignited something within you. It gave you a sense of control, of freedom, and it felt good—so good—to be seen as someone worth chasing. So you leaned into it. You found your place in the hookup culture, where the rules were simple and the emotional weight was nonexistent. One night, one person, no strings attached.

And it was fun. The thrill of meeting someone new, the brief connection that didn’t require anything more than mutual attraction, gave you a rush. Sure, the expense of condoms and the constant reminder to stay on top of frequent STD testing was a minor annoyance, but it was worth it for the feeling of power and liberation that came with it.

You felt like you were finally getting your fix, like the hole that had been left after your complicated feelings with Spencer was being filled—albeit temporarily. It wasn’t about love or deep connection anymore. It was about reclaiming something for yourself, something you hadn’t realized you were missing. You had found an escape, and for now, that was enough.

But then, one day, you made a mistake—a slip of the tongue in the office. You weren’t necessarily trying to keep your new lifestyle a secret, but you hadn’t planned on making it common knowledge either. Your friends and coworkers didn’t need to know every detail of how you were trying to get over Spencer, how you had buried your hurt in casual flings to escape the complicated feelings lingering from the rejection.

It happened when Penelope asked about your weekend plans in the bullpen. You casually mentioned that you were busy, but the response sparked curiosity.

"Busy? With what?" JJ asked, her eyes narrowing playfully. As your close friend, she felt like she would have known if you had something going on. She sensed something was off.

You laughed awkwardly, realizing you had stepped into dangerous territory. "Uh, just... seeing a man."

Penelope's face lit up with excitement. "You have a date?" she asked, her glee impossible to hide.

"Not exactly..." you trailed off, hoping the conversation would end there, but you should’ve known better.

Derek, never one to miss an opportunity to tease, raised an eyebrow with a sly grin. "Little miss thing, do you have a scheduled booty call?" he asked, his tone filled with mischief.

Your face flushed fiercely, the blush creeping up your neck. The small, involuntary smile on your lips gave you away instantly, and before you could protest, Penelope squealed with delight, while JJ chuckled in surprise.

"Oh my god!" Penelope exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement. "You minx! Why didn’t you tell us?"

You tried to play it cool, shrugging lightly. "I mean, it’s nothing serious. Just… you know… having some fun."

But what you didn’t notice was Spencer, who had overheard the entire conversation from across the bullpen. His face paled, and his heart sank as the reality of your words hit him like a freight train. You were seeing other people. You were sleeping with other men, and it was painfully clear—you were trying to get over him.

The girl he had always wanted—you—had wanted him back. That truth crashed into him with an intensity he wasn’t prepared for, and the weight of it left him standing frozen, unable to process how much he had lost. Spencer felt the deep ache of regret, gnawing at him with every word you spoke to your friends. You had moved on—or at least, you were trying to. And it was all because of him, because he had pushed you away when you had been vulnerable, honest, and open with him.

At that moment, Spencer couldn’t deny it any longer. He finally admitted it to himself—he wants you. He likes you. Maybe he even loves you. He always has. 

The realization of what he had been running from all this time hit him harder than any unsub ever could. He had been too scared to face it, too afraid of messing things up between you, too unsure of how to handle his own feelings. But now, watching you laugh awkwardly with your coworkers about casual hookups and hearing how you were slipping further and further away from him, it became painfully clear—he had already messed things up. 

Spencer clenched his fists at his sides, his mind racing with the weight of what he'd been denying for so long. He wanted to be the one you turned to, the one you laughed with, the one you came home to after a long day. He wanted to be more than your friend, more than someone you used to be close to. He wanted you in his life, in every possible way.

—

Spencer had always been on your speed dial—back when things were simpler, back when you called him almost every day, your friendship close and easy. So when his phone buzzed after 11 p.m. on a Saturday, his first instinct wasn’t concern. But after everything that had happened between the two of you lately, the timing made him uneasy. This wasn’t normal anymore. He hadn’t heard from you in weeks, not like this, and certainly not at this hour.

His heart pounded as he grappled for the phone, his mind racing. If you were calling him this late, something had to be wrong. He didn’t hesitate for a second, fumbling to answer as quickly as possible, already imagining the worst. “Y/N?” he called out into the phone, his voice tense with worry. “Y/N, are you okay?”

But instead of your voice answering, what he heard stopped him cold.

It was faint at first, a muffled noise, but as he strained to listen, the unmistakable sounds of… pain? groaning? It left him on edge, his panic rising. His mind raced, thinking the worst—had you been hurt? Were you in danger? He called your name again, louder, more frantic this time. “*Y/N!*”

But still, no response from you. Just the sounds, growing clearer, louder.

And then, it hit him like a punch to the gut. Through the haze of sounds on the other end, he heard a man’s voice, moaning your name.

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat as realization dawned painfully, his stomach twisting. You hadn’t called him on purpose. You had buttdialled him during a hookup. The groans, the noises that he had thought were of pain—they weren’t what he had feared. They were… something entirely different.

His hands shook as he stared at the phone, the pit in his stomach growing. He could hear everything, the intimacy, the passion—things that weren’t meant for him, things he should never have been privy to. The knowledge of what was happening, of who was with you right now, left him reeling.

He hung up, the phone slipping from his grasp onto the bed. Spencer sat there, stunned, trying to process what had just happened. It was the harshest reminder of what he had lost, of what he had pushed away. You were moving on. You were finding comfort in someone else. And here he was, on the other end of a phone call that was never meant to be made.

For the first time, Spencer felt the full weight of what he had done. He had pushed you away, too scared to face his own feelings, and now he was watching—no, hearing—you slip further away from him. The girl he had always wanted, the one who had wanted him, was now with someone else. And all he could do was sit there, helpless, with the sharp, bitter taste of regret heavy on his tongue.

—

You were blissfully unaware that you had called Spencer the night before. After a fun, carefree night with a man whose name you couldn’t even remember, you woke up feeling satisfied and content. It wasn’t until the next day, when you went to call Penelope, that your heart stopped. Staring at your call log, your eyes widened in horror as you saw the call to Spencer. A call that had lasted for several minutes. 

You quickly checked the time. It had definitely been when you and what’s his name were together. Oh god. A pit formed in your stomach as the realization hit you—did Spencer hear anything? Your mind raced, mortified by the idea. You hadn’t spoken to him much lately, and now, this? It was beyond awkward.

By Monday morning, you were terrified to face Spencer. The embarrassment gnawed at you, and the thought of seeing him after that accidental call made your stomach churn. When you arrived at the office, you tried to keep your head down, praying the situation would somehow blow over. But as soon as you made it to your desk, Spencer stormed over, his face set in a hard, unreadable expression.

“Y/N,” he said lowly, his voice tense, “a word.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. You nodded silently, following Spencer into the hall, the weight of what you feared was coming making it hard to breathe.

Before he could speak, you blurted out, “Listen, Spencer, I’m sorry—” You didn’t even know how to finish the sentence, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. 

Spencer’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he was grappling with something—whether to be angry, hurt, or simply frustrated. “You called me,” he said, his voice calm but tinged with something else you couldn’t quite place. “I heard... a lot.”

Your heart sank even further. He did hear. “Spencer, I didn’t mean for that to happen,” you said quickly, desperate to explain. “It was an accident. I wasn’t trying to—”

“Just…” Spencer interrupted, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away, clearly uncomfortable. His voice was quieter now, but the tension between you was palpable. “Please don’t do that again. It was horribly uncomfortable.”

You winced, guilt washing over you. The last thing you had ever wanted was to make Spencer feel that way. “I’m really sorry, Spencer,” you said, softer this time. “I didn’t realize I had called you. If I had known...”

He nodded, still avoiding your gaze. “I know. It’s just… hearing that, knowing what was happening, it was…” He trailed off, the words hanging unfinished in the air.

"It was what?" you pressed, sensing that Spencer was leaving something unsaid, something important.

Spencer glanced away, his expression tense, and then, as if the weight of his feelings could no longer be held back, he blurted it out. "I was jealous, okay?"

You blinked in disbelief. “Jealous?” The word left your mouth before you could stop it, confusion swirling in your mind. How could he be jealous after everything that had happened between you two?

“Yeah, Y/N,” he sighed, finally meeting your eyes, the vulnerability in his gaze clear now. “I was jealous.”

You shook your head, still baffled by his confession. “Spencer, you rejected me,” you reminded him, your voice sharper than you intended. The hurt from that moment still stung, and hearing him say he was jealous felt like a twisted irony.

“I know,” he said quickly, guilt flashing in his eyes. “I know I did, and I’ve regretted it ever since. I was scared. I didn’t know how to handle what you said or what I was feeling, and I pushed you away. But hearing you with someone else, knowing you’ve moved on… it hit me harder than I expected.”

You stood there, staring at him, processing his words. Part of you wanted to lash out, to remind him of how much his rejection had hurt you. But another part of you, the part that had always cared for Spencer, softened at the sight of him so open, so raw with his emotions.

“Spencer…” you started, your voice gentler now, “you don’t get to be jealous. Not after everything. You made your choice.”

“I know,” he whispered, his eyes full of regret. “And it was the wrong choice. I didn’t realize how much I wanted you—until it was too late.”

There was a pause as his words hung in the air between you.

“Well, I’m sorry it took you so long to realize it,” you said, the hurt still lingering in your voice despite the calm exterior you tried to maintain.

Spencer nodded slowly, his expression full of regret. “Me too,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at you then, his eyes filled with all the things he hadn’t been able to say before, the weight of his hesitation clear now that the truth was out.

The silence between you stretched on for a moment, heavy with everything that had gone unsaid for so long. You could feel the weight of it pressing down on you, the hurt and confusion swirling around inside your chest. This was what you had wanted once—to hear Spencer admit that he had made a mistake. But now that it was happening, it didn’t feel as satisfying as you thought it would.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Spencer continued, his voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how to deal with my own feelings. And now I’m scared I’ve lost you for good.”

You stared at him, unsure of what to say. There was no quick fix for what had happened between you. His apology was genuine, but the damage had already been done.

“I don’t know what to say, Spencer,” you admitted. “I’m not going to pretend like this doesn’t hurt, or that everything can just go back to how it was.”

“I understand,” he said softly, looking down at the floor. “I don’t expect things to go back to the way they were. I just… I wanted you to know how I feel. And that I’m sorry.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “I appreciate that. But this doesn’t change everything.”

“I know,” he replied, his eyes meeting yours once more. “But maybe… maybe it’s not too late to figure it out. If you’re willing.”

You hesitated, the rawness of the conversation still fresh. You didn’t know if you could open that door again—not yet. But maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to rebuild what had been broken.

“We’ll see, Spencer,” you said softly. “We’ll see.”

And with that, the conversation hung in the air, fragile and uncertain, but with the faintest glimmer of hope.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[keferon]

It has been YEARS since I have writen anything. I more so draw. Maybe later if you like I can try but... the Deadlock Mecha au with Ratchet ❤ it goes brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

(Wrote this in three hours. No editing. Spur of the moment dump. Apologizes for the length and how it bounces around. I imagine Deadlock had saved Ratchet and his team somehow. Ratchet in turn tries to save the person inside Deadlock. Finding no human Ratchet instead saves the Cybertonian realizing he is more then a mechine.)

****

Deadlock's optics dart around the bioengineer's lab as he stays crouched on one knee. He keeps his servos flat on the floor to stay steady in the small hanger. He doesn't want to bump into the over head lights any more then he has. He is almost at his limit. When he crawled in here he didn't expect to be surrounded by screaming squishies. He's had enough of the small creatures running around him calling out for help. Let their 'help' come. He will tear apart anything that comes between him and the human that saved his life.

Ratchet, the spitfire of a human had bothered saving him when his own kind left him to leak out in the mud. Cared enough to find fuel and feed him. He had learned quickly that Ratchet has a brilliant and clever processer. He matches Deadlock's glossa with his own with zero hesitation and either has no self preservation or no concept of fear. Which ever one, whatever keeps Ratchet going strong and steady could scare Unicron himself into submission.

Deadlock gives a fond hum as he recalls onlining to a very small hand petting his cheek muttering, "It's ok kid we're getting you out of here. Focus on me. Only me." While the ground shook around them. While screeches from the enemy closed in, almost drowned out the calming grumble of the bioengineer.

He snarls as something pings off his helm bringing him back to the hanger. His lip curls back enough to show a shiny fang. One of the little fraggers shot him with a... should he even call that a blaster? "ENOUGH!" A voice demanding respect and carries weight yells out when Deadlock lifts his left servo to grab the offending toy. Everyone pauses and falls silent. He hears a ting ping ping from his right leg. "Stop that line of thought right now Drift! Hand down!" Deadlock looks at Ratchet as Ratchet gives the plating around his knee a few good wacks with a... piece of wood that had bristles at the end. Deadlock gives an amused rumble and slowly sets his servo back down as he turns his right one slowly till it's palm up next to Ratchet. Ratchet huffs and grumbles but climbs on still wielding the mighty stick weapon. "What the hell are you doing in here you menace?"

"Ratchet~ I missed you. You are late coming to berth. For the sixth time. Iv come to escort you from work." Deadlock purrs as he lifts Ratchet slowly to his optics. He can't help but smirk at the twitching frown Ratchet gives.

"Ain't happening kid. I have a lot to do. Go back to your bed. Rest. You're still recovering." Ratchet says in his, this is not a request but an order, tone. "I don't need you here giving me more work. That's what you'll be doing if you make puddles out of any of my interns. We WILL have words if you do that by the way. Do not smash any of my workers." Ratchet growls back with no more heat then Deadlock has grown use to.

"More of a sad smoosh or splat then smash." Deadlock mumbles. He pauses as the wooden stick with bristles is waved in front of his optic, "Ah.. I mean... isn't scrapping your kind off of things the youngling's job?" That earned him a wack on his optic ridge. He gives a small grunt and closes his mouth.

"No, Firstaid doesn't handle all the dirty work Drift. Even if that was the case don't give the poor kid any more work you numbskull." Ratchet says lowly as the humans optics narrow. Deadlock watches as Ratchet swings the stick servo to servo. "Now get out of my lab or I'll make you."

Deadlock tilts his helm and raises an optic ridge. A devilish smirk spreads across his lips enough for his fangs to poke out. "Right right we're going." He rumbles while cupping a servo around Ratchet as he slowly shifts around to back out. His EM Field spreads out into a smug, pleased pulse as Ratchet yells and curses at him. He ignores the threats. No Ratchet will not take him apart from the inside out. He will go to berth to have the strength to do it in the lightcycle, if he wishes. But he won't, his squishy would never harm him. Sharp glossa, beautiful processer, and pure of spark. Deadlock vows he will protect his squishy with his whole being. "So Drift eh? Think my name will scare your subordinates? Our are we already on nicknames Doc?" He teases with not so well hidden pleaser/fondness.

OH YES THIS AKCNGNJGMGNGNGNGMGMGBDINFBMGGM

Next

[svt-luna]

ʚིᵋ ⋆ NANA TOUR ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── episode 1-3.

Nana Tour with SEVENTEEN

synopsis: Episode 1-3! First step of the travel. Their first destination of the group tour in Italy is Rome! Find out SEVENTEEN’s fourteen ways to enjoy the Colosseum.

we have finally made it to Italy! this took a while but please expect that already when it comes to nana tour since i will be writing the entire episodes word per word, so please be patient!! see you on the next one, my lovelies 🩵💙

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST

╰ ౨ৎ fan reactions ╰ ౨ৎ nana tour masterlist

[added captions are in brackets] ღ

bold dialogues are spoken in english ღ

The plane touched down on the runway with a slight jolt, the tires screeching softly against the pavement as the aircraft slowed to a steady taxi.

It was 7:30 PM in Italy, and after hours of travel, the SEVENTEEN members had finally arrived at Leonardo da Vinci International Airport. A quiet murmur filled the cabin as passengers stirred, stretching out their limbs after the long-haul flight. The overhead lights brightened slightly, signaling that they were allowed to prepare for departure.

[And they have finally arrived]

The members, still somewhat sluggish from sitting for so long, started moving at their own pace, reaching for whatever few belongings they had brought. Since this was a completely spontaneous trip with no luggage, there was little to collect aside from the essentials— passports, phones, and any random comfort items they had managed to carry aboard.

Mingyu, already standing near his seat, turned to Dokyeom with an exhale of realization. “We don’t need to look for our bags because we don’t have any,” he pointed out.

Dokyeom let out a short, almost tired laugh as he stood up, rolling his shoulders back. “Seriously.”

Luna, still seated, stretched her arms above her head, fingers flexing as she let out a small sigh. The slight ache of travel was settling in, but she wasn’t in any rush to get up just yet. Jeonghan, standing beside her, had already begun collecting their things— his movements unhurried but precise, making sure nothing was left behind.

[Make sure they don’t leave the little they have]

Around them, the rest of the members were already on their feet, some groggy but focused, scanning the seats and floor to ensure they weren’t forgetting anything important.

“Let’s go,” Hoshi announced from Luna’s other side, ready to move.

Luna glanced over at him, and before he could take another step, she pointed toward his armrest. “Shi-shi, don’t forget your passport, please.”

[oops]

Hoshi followed her gaze and immediately chuckled when he saw the small booklet sitting atop the armrest, completely forgotten. “Oh, right,” he laughed, picking it up. “That would’ve been bad.”

“That would have been terrible.” Luna chuckled.

[That would have been detrimental]

Luna’s reminder seemed to trigger something in Dokyeom’s brain. He paused mid-step, eyes widening as a realization hit him. “Wait, my passport,” he blurted out suddenly, his hands already patting down his pockets in a frenzy.

[What?!]

Luna turned to look at him just as Mingyu’s head snapped in his direction.

“You lost it?” Mingyu asked, a mix of disbelief and amusement creeping into his voice.

“I just had it—” Dokyeom mumbled to himself, already lowering into a crouch to peer between the seats. He shifted forward, checking the crevices between the cushions, his panic growing when he didn’t immediately see it. Mingyu, despite his teasing, crouched down next to him, joining in on the search.

As if sensing the potential disaster unfolding, PD Na’s voice rang through the cabin. “Passports. Make sure you have your passports.”

Luna, still sitting, exchanged a quick glance with Jeonghan before the two of them smoothly lifted their passports into the air to show PD Na they had theirs. They began making their way down the aisle, maneuvering through the scattered members still gathering their things.

“Mingyu, make sure you have your passport,” PD Na reminded, specifically directing it at him. Given Mingyu’s history— having already lost his passport once before they even took off— it was a warranted concern.

Mingyu, however, let out a laugh and instead pointed at Dokyeom, who was still hunched over, checking every possible place his passport could have disappeared into.

“Really? Again… really?” PD Na’s voice was laced with exhaustion, as if he had already accepted that dealing with these two was his fate.

Mingyu simply nodded.

[He is not one to judge]

The exchange immediately caught the attention of the nearby members. Luna turned toward them, brows raised. “Did you really lose it?”

“Really?” Jeonghan echoed, his tone teasing but genuinely curious.

[In disbelief]

Dokyeom, still entirely focused on his search, didn’t even look up as he absentmindedly patted his pockets. “Oh?” he murmured to himself.

Mingyu burst into laughter, shaking his head.

“What? Again?” PD Na repeated, now also joining in the search as if that would somehow speed up the process.

Dokyeom groaned, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Why don’t I have my passport?”

Luna, standing near the exit, tilted her head, trying to be the voice of reason. “You had it earlier, Kyeomie. So it’s probably just somewhere in the plane.”

PD Na exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re lying, right?” He was practically pleading at this point.

“No, he’s being serious,” Jeonghan confirmed with a soft chuckle, watching the chaos unfold with entertained amusement.

Before anyone could dwell on it further, Dokyeom suddenly perked up. His eyes widened as he reached forward, pulling something out from an empty seat a few rows ahead.

“Found it,” he said, relief washing over his face.

There was a beat of silence before PD Na sighed heavily, shaking his head in disbelief. “Crazy. He’s crazy.”

“You found it?” Mingyu asked, standing up straight.

Dokyeom nodded, holding up the passport like a prize. “I had to sit over there before, so I left it there.”

Luna and Jeonghan exchanged a knowing look before finally stepping off the plane, deciding they had seen enough of the disaster unfolding behind them. They left Mingyu, Dokyeom, and PD Na to deal with the aftermath while they joined the other members who had made it out first.

“At this point, they better just hang their passports around their necks,” Luna deadpanned as they walked down the tunnel.

[Don’t give PD Na ideas]

Jeonghan grinned, chuckling under his breath.

From behind them, PD Na’s exasperated voice carried through the tunnel. “You guys are crazy!”

“He’s the passport killer,” Mingyu declared dramatically, pointing an accusatory finger at Dokyeom.

Dokyeom, still clutching his passport, could only let out a sheepish chuckle.

[He is two for two]

PD Na blinked, the realization fully dawning on him. “Come to think of it, Mingyu has no fault either. It was your fault.”

“It is all my fault,” Dokyeom admitted, laughing.

Luna sighed before linking her arm through his. “It’s okay, Kyeomie. We still love you.” Her tone was flat, but the amused glint in her eyes gave away her fondness.

Dokyeom chuckled as she pulled him along, her other arm hooked around Jeonghan, who was carrying Cherry, her red plush bunny, for her.

“It’s a relief you checked in the end,” Jeonghan told Dokyeom.

“Right. I don’t wanna imagine if you didn’t,” Luna added with a shake of her head.

[Let’s not]

As they walked further down the tunnel, the chaotic energy of their group trailing behind them, it was clear this trip was going to be anything but ordinary.

The moment Dokyeom sighed, relief evident in his voice, it was as if the weight of their spontaneous journey finally settled.

“At least we’re here. We are really here. I really wanted to get off.”

His voice carried that mix of exhaustion and sheer disbelief, but there was also an unmistakable tinge of excitement bubbling underneath. He turned the GoPro in his hands toward himself, then smoothly angled it to include Jeonghan and Luna walking beside him as they moved through the airport along with the rest of the members and the production crew. The camera’s lens framed the three of them in the middle of a bustling Italian airport, their expressions ranging from fatigue to amusement to sheer anticipation.

As they stepped onto the escalator, PD Na’s voice cut through from behind them, his tone laced with humor.

“You brought a clutch.”

The way he said it made it sound so ridiculous that laughter immediately rippled through the group. The members, as if suddenly remembering what they were all holding, looked down at the small beige amenity bag in their hands— the ones they had all taken from the plane because they quite literally had no other belongings.

“Everyone… everyone has the same,” Wonwoo noted with a soft chuckle, his gaze sweeping across the identical beige clutches in their grip.

[“I love my team, I love my crew” ~]

“All of you brought a nice clutch. Was it a group purchase?” PD Na teased further, and that was all it took for another round of laughter to erupt.

Luna, however, simply raised an unimpressed brow, her expression so deadpan that it only made it funnier. She turned slightly to look at PD Na, arms crossed over her chest, before delivering her response with effortless sass.

“Well, we don’t exactly have a choice, considering someone didn’t allow us to bring anything,” she quipped, dragging out the last word for emphasis.

[She will NOT be letting that go]

Her tone was light but pointed, making the members laugh even more, a few of them even pointed at her quick-witted remark. Jeonghan chuckled beside her, nudging her playfully with his elbow as if impressed by how smoothly she threw that in.

PD Na, on the other hand, blinked at her in mock disbelief, mouth slightly agape as if he truly had no words. Luna, fully aware of his stare, immediately averted her gaze and started looking around as if suddenly finding the walls of the airport terminal absolutely fascinating.

[Out of sight, out of mind]

The way she did it— so obvious, so deliberate— only made the situation funnier, and Jeonghan smirked, shaking his head as he chuckled at her antics.

“You guys got off with it because we don’t have bags. Smart,” Mingyu observed, pointing out how they had taken the airplane’s amenity kits while he, clearly, had not.

The group continued moving, falling into step with the stream of people heading toward passport control. The airport was busy, filled with travelers arriving from different parts of the world, the atmosphere buzzing with movement and murmured conversations.

The SEVENTEEN members, still riding the high of their impromptu trip, were actively engaging with their cameras, speaking in bursts of excitement and disbelief.

“I came to Rome, what do I do?” Mingyu muttered, almost to himself, shaking his head in sheer wonder as if he still couldn’t fully process it.

“It kind of hit me now that I came here,” Dokyeom added, his voice holding that familiar mix of excitement and slight overwhelm.

Meanwhile, next to them, Luna and Jeonghan were having an entirely different conversation with their camera.

“I’m tired,” Luna stated, her voice carrying that soft lilt of exhaustion as she turned slightly toward Jeonghan.

“I’m sleepy,” Jeonghan followed up immediately, mirroring her tone perfectly.

[The ‘I’m tired, I’m sleepy’ counter: 1]

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, their eyes locking as if silently communicating their shared state of drowsiness. Then, in perfect synchronization, they both chuckled— small, knowing laughs that felt warm and easy, the kind that naturally came from years of knowing each other inside out.

“Should we just sleep here?” Jeonghan mused, his voice light and teasing as he subtly tilted his head, as if actually considering the absurdity of the idea.

Luna sighed dramatically, stretching her arms before pressing her face on his arm. “Honestly? If there was a bench right here, I’d probably lie down.”

Jeonghan grinned at that, amusement flickering across his face. “You’d be that person?”

She hummed in confirmation, then pulled back slightly to glance at the camera. “If you see a viral video of an idol sleeping in an airport, don’t be surprised.”

Jeonghan let out a soft laugh, shaking his head before glancing toward the camera with a knowing look. “At this rate, she might actually do it.”

“I will,” she confirmed with zero hesitation.

[Viral moments by Luna]

Their back-and-forth was calm, effortless, and filled with the kind of natural chemistry that needed no exaggeration. It wasn’t loud, but it was the kind of exchange that felt warm and familiar, like a quiet pocket of their own amid the chaotic buzz of the airport. The teasing was easy, the humor understated, yet their energy bounced off each other so seamlessly that even the camera seemed to pick up on it.

Jeonghan shifted slightly, adjusting Cherry— the small red plush bunny he had been holding for Luna— before offering it to her. “Here, you can use Cherry as a pillow if you want.”

Luna looked at the plush in his hands, then back at him, eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you… using Cherry to get out of lending me your arm?”

Jeonghan smirked. “Not at all. Just… giving you options.”

Luna let out a soft scoff but took the plush bunny anyway, cradling it in her arms before glancing at him with an exaggeratedly skeptical look. “Mm-hmm. Sure.”

Jeonghan simply chuckled, clearly entertained, before leaning in just a fraction closer. “I mean, if you really want my arm that bad, just say so.”

Luna rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at her lips. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet,” Jeonghan quipped, grinning, “here we are.”

[This is their way of staying awake]

Their quiet banter continued as they moved along with the crowd, the warmth of their laughter blending into the soft hum of the airport around them.

As they neared the passport control lines, the airport’s organized chaos became more apparent. Travelers shuffled forward, passports in hand, the soft hum of different languages filling the air.

Suddenly, a staff member stationed near the entrance of the lines started calling out, their voice cutting through the airport noise with clear direction.

“Korean here! Korean here!”

The SEVENTEEN members instinctively followed the call, moving toward the designated line as a group, their feet dragging slightly from exhaustion yet still carrying a spark of excitement. They were finally in Rome, and now all that stood between them and the outside world was passport control.

Just as they moved forward, Jun and Minghao hesitated for a brief moment, glancing at a different section of the immigration checkpoint.

“We need to go there, right?” Jun asked, looking toward their staff for confirmation.

One of the managers gave a small nod. “Yeah, that’s for visa screening.”

Understanding the situation, Jun and Minghao nodded back before veering off toward their respective line for passport holders requiring visa checks.

“Go safely,” Mingyu called after them, waving casually as the two Chinese members separated from the group.

The rest of them continued forward, the line moving at a steady pace. Jeonghan, who had been loosely linking arms with Luna for most of the walk, felt a sudden shift as she unhooked herself from him and took a step back. His head instinctively turned toward her, eyebrows slightly raised.

[???]

“Where are you going?” Jeonghan asked, his tone laced with mild curiosity, enough to grab the attention of a few members around them.

Luna didn’t answer immediately. Instead, a smirk curled at the corner of her lips as she slowly raised her hand, revealing a navy blue passport with a golden crest— her United Kingdom passport. She then pointed toward a separate immigration line designated for EU passport holders.

[Surprise]

“She has an EU passport,” PD Na announced.

The realization dawned on the members in waves, their tired minds taking a second longer to process before collective reactions of shock and amusement erupted around her.

“She gets to go through the fast lane?” Mingyu gawked.

“That’s so unfair,” Hoshi muttered, shaking his head with an exaggerated sigh.

“You should’ve let us sneak in with you,” Seungkwan joked, crossing his arms with a mock pout.

[Impatient no. 1, no. 2, and no. 3]

As the members continued their playful protests, PD Na handed Luna her own GoPro so she could film herself now that she would be separated from the group. She took it with ease, adjusting the grip before giving them all a small nod.

“I’ll see you guys outside,” Luna said with a smile, turning toward her designated line.

[The biggest smile on her face]

The difference was immediate. While the Korean passport line moved steadily but was packed with travelers, the EU line had significantly fewer people. With effortless ease, Luna stepped through the zigzagging ropes, barely pausing as she moved through the line at a near-skipping pace, Cherry the bunny plush tucked securely in her arm.

[There she goes]

From behind the ropes, the members and crew stood watching her, expressions ranging from jealousy to pure comedic disbelief.

“Look at her go,” Dokyeom whispered, shaking his head.

“She’s already at the front,” Joshua pointed out, eyes narrowing slightly.

“This is so unfair,” Hoshi muttered, watching as Luna reached the officer in record time.

[Jealous no. 1, no. 2, and no. 3]

Meanwhile, Luna, now at the passport control desk, was greeted by the airport staff.

“Hello,” the officer greeted her in a professional yet polite tone.

“Hello,” Luna responded, immediately taking off her cap out of respect before handing over her passport.

The officer gave a brief nod, flipping through the pages as they scanned the document. It took all of a few seconds before they stamped it and handed it back to her with a small smile.

“Thank you so much,” Luna said with a slight bow before stepping forward, officially cleared for entry.

Without missing a beat, she lifted her GoPro and adjusted the angle, switching into full vlogging mode.

“Alright, so,” she started, her voice carrying that casual yet amused tone as she began narrating to the camera, “as you guys can see, I’m already through.”

She panned the camera briefly to show the empty space behind her, a stark contrast to the still-crowded lines where the members remained.

“I got through so fast because of my European passport,” she explained with a small laugh, turning the camera back toward herself. “And now, it’s just me and Cherry.”

Luna lifted the small red bunny plush into the frame, wiggling it slightly in greeting.

[Hello!]

“We are the only survivors,” she joked, her voice dropping into a mock-serious tone. “We have lost the others… we don’t know when we’ll reunite.”

She paused for dramatic effect before sighing.

“I miss Cheollie.”

She let out another exaggerated sigh, glancing down at Cherry before shaking her head. “Leader-nim, where are you?” she muttered in fake despair, as if she had been abandoned on a great solo mission.

[He is now back in Korea… sleeping]

Still holding the camera, Luna made her way toward the airport exit, the large glass doors ahead signaling her transition from traveler to full tourist.

“I guess I’ll just wait outside,” she continued, panning the camera toward the doors before turning it back to herself with a resigned smile. “It’s hot. Just like I expected”

And with that, she pushed forward, stepping out into the fresh Italian air, ready to reunite with the rest of them once they finally made it through.

With a small sigh, she shifted Cherry the bunny plush to her other arm before slipping her jacket off, leaving her in her white cropped halter top. The light fabric was much more comfortable in the heat, and she welcomed the breeze that brushed against her skin. She folded the jacket neatly over her arm, securing it in place before glancing around.

The airport entrance was bustling with people, some waiting for taxis, others greeting family and friends. Luna leaned against a nearby railing, lifting her GoPro once again to document her wait.

After a couple of minutes, faint but familiar voices began filtering through the noise, growing clearer with each passing second. A small smile tugged at her lips before she even turned her head.

“They’re here. Finally,” Luna told the camera, her tone carrying a mix of amusement and relief.

[Translation: “I want to go to sleep.”]

She turned the GoPro slightly, aiming it toward the direction of the voices, though they weren’t yet visible.

“I want to lay down already,” she muttered, tilting her head back with a dramatic sigh.

Just then, an enthusiastic voice rang out loud and clear.

“We arrived!” Dokyeom announced, his excitement evident despite the long journey.

The moment the members finally emerged through the airport doors, they were met with the reality of their long-haul. However, the group wasn’t complete— Jun and Minghao were still missing.

“They’re still in visa screening,” PD Na noted, glancing at the large crowd still gathered inside.

“Where all the passengers were found,” Woozi muttered, shaking his head as he observed the long, seemingly endless line through the glass doors.

It was clear Jun and Minghao weren’t getting out anytime soon.

Despite that, the rest of the members spotted Luna almost instantly. She stood casually by the railing, one hand holding the GoPro while the other clutched Cherry.

As they made their way toward her, PD Na signaled for them to follow him toward their transportation.

Jeonghan, who had been walking near the back of the group, naturally gravitated toward Luna’s side. Without saying a word, he reached over and plucked her jacket from her arm, shifting it onto his own without a second thought.

“Wow, we’re really in Rome,” Jeonghan mused as they walked, his voice carrying a sense of realization that had only now fully sunk in.

“Are we taking a bus?” Hoshi asked, his eyes scanning the parking lot as they approached the large vehicle waiting for them.

“We need to,” Luna replied with a grin, motioning toward their entourage of staff, managers, and production crew. With their large group, taking separate cars would’ve been impractical.

As they neared the bus, the members slowly began to pile inside, each greeting the driver as they climbed the steps.

“Hello,” Luna greeted with a warm smile as she stepped up, still holding her GoPro in one hand.

Once inside, she instinctively gravitated toward a window seat, settling in before pulling out her phone. Jeonghan wordlessly followed, dropping into the seat beside her without hesitation.

She quickly unlocked her phone, tapping out a message to her mom to let her know they had arrived safely.

Meanwhile, the rest of the members settled into their seats, stretching out after their long journey.

“Did all the members get on?” Vernon asked, his head turning slightly to scan the bus.

“Other than Minghao and Jun,” Seungkwan answered, adjusting his bag as he sat down.

[The Chinese members still in line for their visa screening]

“Their line was really long,” Luna added, still focused on her phone as she sent her message.

Almost as if on cue, one of the producers, Hyo Jung, stepped onto the bus, addressing the group with an update.

“The visa screening line is kind of long,” she informed them. “I think we need to expect thirty minutes to an hour.”

PD Na, ever the instigator, turned toward Jeonghan. “Or Jeonghan…” he started, addressing him since he was the vice leader and, in Seungcheol’s absence, the one technically responsible for them.

“Should we go to our place first and play?” PD Na suggested.

“Oh, sounds good,” Jeonghan nodded without hesitation whatsoever.

[Translation: “Let’s go home and rest.”]

The sheer lack of deliberation sent the entire bus into laughter.

“You really have no affection,” PD Na deadpanned, shaking his head as the members burst into chuckles.

“I just baited you. I thought you would do that,” PD Na added, watching as Jeonghan chuckled, clearly unbothered by the comment.

The atmosphere inside the bus had settled into a comfortable quiet, the only sounds filling the space being the soft hum of the engine and the occasional rustling of fabric as the members shifted in their seats.

Most of them were occupied with their own devices, heads bowed, thumbs moving at rapid speed over their screens. It was the easiest way to pass time while waiting for Jun and Minghao to finally clear their visa screening and join them.

Luna, however, had already started dozing off. With Cherry, her beloved bunny plush, hooked securely around her arm, her body naturally gravitated towards Jeonghan’s warmth, her face smushed against his chest. She didn’t even seem to register how his arm was draped around her shoulders, holding her close in an almost absentminded manner while his other hand was busy on his phone.

[And she’s out]

Jeonghan, much like the rest of the members, was completely immersed in his game. His eyes were sharp, focused, his expression unreadable as he played with practiced ease. Around him, the other members were equally engrossed— some locked in silent battles with their screens, others whispering occasional exclamations of triumph or defeat as they competed with each other.

“What are you guys doing? Are you guys playing games?” Hyo Jung PD’s voice broke through the silence, cutting through the heavy concentration in the air.

Jeonghan barely spared her a glance, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he answered, “Go-Stop. We are playing Go-Stop right now.” His tone was nonchalant, his focus still glued to his screen.

Hyo Jung PD blinked, looking around at the group of fully grown adults hunched over their phones as if their lives depended on it. The scene was ridiculously hilarious.

[This is how idols wait]

Meanwhile, Jeonghan’s eyes briefly flickered towards Mingyu. “Mingyu, how much money do you have?” he asked, referring to their in-game currency.

Mingyu, still tapping away at his screen, responded without looking up, “This? Right now?”

“Yeah.”

Mingyu hummed in thought before answering, “1.3 billion won.”

At that, Jeonghan nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Let’s play.”

Mingyu glanced up for a split second, clearly intrigued. “What’s your name?” he asked, referring to Jeonghan’s in-game ID.

A small smirk played on Jeonghan’s lips. “Hani Hani.”

Mingyu huffed a small laugh before diving back into the game, the competitive energy between them instantly intensifying.

As the game progressed, Mingyu suddenly asked, “You got five times worth right now?”

Jeonghan’s gaze flickered to his screen. “What’s good if I get five times?”

Mingyu, fully invested now, explained quickly, “When you win, you get five times more points.”

A small, knowing smile tugged at Jeonghan’s lips. “Man, that’s amazing… let’s just stop.”

Mingyu’s head snapped up, eyes wide in betrayal. “I lost 300 million to you?” He let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. “Jeonghan, I don’t want to play anymore.”

Jeonghan merely tilted his head innocently. “Why?”

[Cause he is losing]

Before Mingyu could protest further, Dokyeom suddenly piped up from the seat next to Mingyu at the back. “Jeonghan, do you want to play with me?”

Jeonghan’s brows lifted slightly. “Yes… what’s your name?”

Dokyeom grinned proudly. “Meow.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Your name is Meow?” Wonwoo, who had been silently listening, finally spoke up, staring at Dokyeom in mild disbelief.

Dokyeom nodded, completely unbothered. “Yes, Meow.”

Jeonghan, meanwhile, checked the game’s leaderboard and nearly choked. “Hey, you have 13.4 billion?”

Dokyeom shrugged casually. “I got all of Mingyu’s.”

A chorus of amused laughter followed. Mingyu let out a defeated groan, slumping back in his seat.

[Exhibit A on why he doesn’t want to play anymore]

“Wow…” Jeonghan chuckled, the sound light and teasing. The movement caused Luna to shuffle slightly against him, a sleepy grumble escaping her lips.

[shh]

Jeonghan glanced down at her, amusement softening his features as he reached up to pat her head lightly. She barely reacted, just burrowing deeper into his side. With a small shake of his head, he turned his attention back to his phone, continuing his game with Dokyeom.

Minutes passed in the same comfortable silence, only the sound of tapping screens and occasional murmurs breaking the stillness.

Then, finally, one of the producers called out, “They’re here.”

The response from the members was as lackluster as it could possibly get.

“Wow.”

“Congrats.”

“Come in. Come in.”

“Welcome.”

“Great job.”

Each reply was delivered in the same monotone, half-heartedly spoken without a single person actually looking up from their devices.

[No one is looking]

PD Na, who had been watching the entire scene unfold, let out an amused chuckle. “They didn’t come yet,” he clarified. “The car is here.”

Still, no one reacted much.

With a shake of his head, PD Na made his way up the aisle, his laughter growing. “But you guys were answering so half-heartedly. No one was looking.”

The members finally broke into laughter, realizing how ridiculous they must have looked.

“No one was looking. Everyone was on their phones… those two are sleeping…” PD Na gestured towards Luna and Vernon, both completely knocked out. Luna was still nestled against Jeonghan, and Vernon had his cap pulled low over his face, his arms crossed.

At that, more laughter erupted.

Then, at long last, the doors of the bus swung open, and two familiar figures finally stepped inside.

“Oh, you guys came,” PD Na acknowledged, his tone light.

This time, the members actually reacted, clapping as they greeted the newly arrived duo.

“You’re here!”

“Congrats!”

“Good job!”

[A complete opposite reaction from earlier]

The sudden noise startled both Luna and Vernon awake. Luna groggily lifted herself from her previous position, rubbing her eyes as she tried to blink away the sleep.

Jeonghan turned his head towards her, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You were drooling on me,” he teased, his voice dripping with playful amusement.

Luna, barely registering his words, simply ran a hand through her hair before muttering, “You’ll live.” Her tone was dry, completely unfazed, making Jeonghan burst into laughter.

Still half-asleep, she turned to look at Jun and Minghao, offering a small smile as she mumbled, “Great job.”

Jun let out a dramatic sigh as he plopped down into his seat. “I didn’t know the line was this long.”

“It was so long,” PD Na agreed, shaking his head.

And with that, their group was finally complete.

The moment everyone had settled into their seats, one of the crew members announced, “We will leave!” signaling the start of their journey. As soon as the words left their mouth, the engine of the bus rumbled to life, and with a soft jolt, they were finally on their way. The movement was met with immediate, albeit somewhat delayed, enthusiasm from the members.

[On their way to their next destination]

“We are finally leaving and heading to the destination,” PD Na declared from the front, his voice filled with the same mix of excitement and exhaustion that often accompanied any trip with SEVENTEEN.

A round of claps and cheers erupted from the members, their energy reigniting now that they were officially on the move.

“Rome!” Dokyeom exclaimed loudly, his voice booming through the bus.

“Italy!” Joshua chimed in, equally excited.

“Italy!” Mingyu echoed right after, not wanting to be left out.

And as if to add a final flourish to their declaration, Dokyeom repeated with extra flair, “Italia!” stretching out the word in an exaggerated accent.

Joshua, seated beside him, turned to him with a grin. “DK is a pizza boy,” he announced, shaking his head in amusement.

At the mention of pizza, Dokyeom immediately perked up, as if the word itself had recharged his energy. “Pizza! Italy pizza!” he exclaimed, once again putting on his best— and worst— Italian accent.

[The loudest group are the ones at the back]

From her seat, Luna could only smile at the antics unfolding at the very back of the bus. Their energy was relentless, filling every corner of the space with chaotic yet infectious excitement. Meanwhile, PD Na, who was already dealing with the inevitable exhaustion that came with managing SEVENTEEN, let out a tired chuckle, rubbing his temples as if bracing himself for the long journey ahead.

“This is Italy,” he confirmed, as if saying it aloud would help him maintain control over the increasingly rowdy group.

[Exhausted]

To steer the conversation back to something remotely educational, one of the producers added, “The name of their airport— it’s called Leonardo da Vinci Airport.”

There was a moment of silence as the members nodded in acknowledgment, their brains momentarily digesting the information.

And then—

“Vernon!” Dokyeom suddenly called out with a sense of urgency, as if he had just made a groundbreaking discovery.

Immediately, Joshua, Mingyu, and Wonwoo turned their heads toward him, their expressions varying from confusion to mild concern.

Up front, Luna, who had been listening in with mild amusement, couldn’t help but grin.

“Wrong Leonardo,” she pointed out from her seat, effortlessly seeing through the misunderstanding.

Mingyu, finally catching on, let out a chuckle. “Not DiCaprio… da Vinci,” he clarified, shaking his head in exasperation at Dokyeom’s mistake.

Realization dawned on Dokyeom’s face, and the moment it did, he burst into laughter, as if even he couldn’t believe what he had just done.

Joshua, deciding this moment needed further explanation for PD Na and the crew, leaned in slightly. “Long time ago, Vernon, he heard that he looked like Leonardo DiCaprio,” he began, his tone carrying the weight of an old legend being retold.

PD Na raised his brows with interest, while the crew chuckled, already sensing where this was going.

“So when you said it was da Vinci…” Joshua trailed off, throwing a knowing look at Dokyeom before delivering the final punchline, “‘Dokyeom went, ‘Vernon!’”

That was it— the entire bus erupted into laughter. Dokyeom, at the center of it all, was already doubled over, his shoulders shaking as he covered his face in embarrassment. Even PD Na let out a chuckle, shaking his head at just how absurdly their minds worked sometimes.

“I said it to be funny!” Dokyeom reasoned, still laughing but now attempting to defend himself.

Joshua, who clearly wasn’t going to let this go so easily, nodded in exaggerated understanding. “A different Leonardo.”

“I said it after hearing Leonardo,” Dokyeom chuckled, finally accepting his fate.

As the laughter from Dokyeom’s Leonardo mishap finally died down, the energy in the bus settled just enough for PD Na to seize the opportunity to continue his announcements. He cleared his throat, sitting up slightly in his seat as he addressed the group once more.

“It takes about thirty minutes to the city,” he informed them, his voice cutting through the lingering chuckles. “Our dorm for today is an Airbnb.”

The announcement was met with an immediate and enthusiastic response from the back of the bus.

“Airbnb!” Dokyeom and Mingyu chorused in perfect sync, their voices filled with excitement as they cheered.

[Na PD’s cheerleaders]

PD Na, who was by now well-accustomed to the members’ habit of reacting to literally anything with enthusiasm, could only chuckle as he shook his head. “You guys like it all when I say anything.”

“Airbnb is nice,” Dokyeom explained matter-of-factly, as if justifying their excitement.

“Nicer than a hotel,” Mingyu followed, nodding in agreement, despite the fact that neither had actually seen the place yet.

Luna, seated near the front, turned slightly to glance at the two from her seat, her lips curling into an amused smile. Their enthusiasm for even the simplest things was both endearing and hilarious, and at this point, she wasn’t even surprised anymore.

PD Na, who had already resigned himself to the group’s chaotic nature, simply pressed on. “On the way to the Airbnb, since we have arrived at Rome, I thought that you might be kind of sad to just go home.”

“Oh, it is disappointing,” Dokyeom immediately agreed, nodding seriously, as if PD Na had personally read his thoughts.

“So,” PD Na continued, undeterred, “we are going to have a group photo at the Colosseum.”

The moment the words left his mouth, a wave of excitement swept through the bus.

“Colosseum picture!” Dokyeom practically leaped out of his seat, throwing one hand up in pure enthusiasm.

[It’s either the excitement or the lack of sleep]

From her seat, Luna turned to look at him again, this time pointing at him as she let out a chuckle, obviously amused by how quickly his energy rebounded with every new announcement.

“The Colosseum— you all know how it looks like, right?” PD Na asked, shifting the conversation towards something slightly educational.

“Yes,” the members responded in unison, their voices harmonizing in a way that almost sounded rehearsed.

“Round,” Hoshi added confidently, as if he had just unlocked a deep historical fact.

PD Na nodded approvingly. “It looked round,” he repeated, acknowledging the correctness of Hoshi’s very basic observation.

Still in his educational mode, PD Na continued, “It’s a building that was made about two thousand years ago. It’s an ancient theater. Simply put, it’s an amphitheater.”

The members fell into a brief silence, listening attentively— though some of them were probably only half-paying attention, distracted by the thought of taking pictures there.

“There’s an audience, and what do you think they did in the center?” PD Na quizzed them, clearly trying to keep their engagement up.

“Fight,” Luna answered first, her voice confident.

“Duel,” Mingyu followed right after, nodding to himself.

“Bullfight,” Hoshi added, looking particularly intrigued.

PD Na nodded. “Gladiators fight each other, or for example— tiger versus human.”

At the mere mention of a tiger, Hoshi immediately perked up, his eyes widening with interest. His entire posture shifted, as if his soul had momentarily left his body and then returned stronger.

[Horanghae]

PD Na, pretending not to notice Hoshi’s reaction, continued, “Or lion versus human. They fight like this too.”

The information made some members murmur in interest, while others simply absorbed it with mild curiosity. PD Na, sensing a moment for yet another educational tidbit, cleared his throat and went on.

“There was sand underneath it, like a wrestling ring. They call sand ‘rena’ in this country,” he explained.

The members blinked at him, processing the new information.

PD Na, never missing a chance to test them, quizzed again, “Isn’t there anything that comes to mind?”

A beat of silence passed before Mingyu confidently answered, “Leonardo DiCaprio?”

[???]

The entire bus chuckled as PD Na instantly shot him down.

“No, wrong,” he said flatly before shaking his head and repeating dramatically, “Wrong, wrong, wrong.”

His exaggerated rejection, reminiscent of his famous game show catchphrase, immediately made the members burst into laughter.

“Arena,” Luna answered confidently, cutting through the laughter with the correct response.

PD Na’s eyes lit up as he pointed at her. “Correct!”

A collective sound of realization spread through the bus as the members went, “Oh…” all at once.

“Ah… rena,” Mingyu repeated, now understanding where the word came from.

“This is why an amphitheater is called an arena,” PD Na concluded, nodding as if pleased with himself for successfully delivering a history lesson.

“Ah…” a few members chorused before playfully adding, “…rena.” They chuckled amongst themselves, amused at how easily they could turn anything into a running joke.

“Feels like we met a smart history teacher,” Seungkwan mused, referring to PD Na, his voice filled with newfound respect.

“Right?” Luna agreed with a grin. “It’s like we’re at a school field trip. It’s so much fun.”

“So, the Colosseum is one of the biggest arenas. It’s one of the representative arenas,” PD Na added before clapping his hands together, signaling the end of his impromptu history lesson. “Let’s go there and take a picture.”

With that, the bus erupted into excited chatter once again, the members buzzing with anticipation as they imagined their upcoming visit to the Colosseum.

The bus rumbled softly as it made its way through the dark streets of Rome, the dim glow of streetlights casting fleeting shadows on the tinted windows. Jeonghan let out a small chuckle, his head tilting slightly as he squinted outside.

“When will we be able to see the outside? I can’t see anything,” he mused, his voice laced with amusement as he leaned closer to the glass. His comment immediately caught the attention of the members, who instinctively followed his lead, pressing their faces toward the window with curious expressions.

[Pitch black]

“I can’t see anything,” Mingyu echoed, his brows furrowing in confusion as he stared into the pitch-black abyss outside.

“There’s nothing,” Dokyeom added, his face practically smushed against the window as if the closer he got, the more he would be able to see.

Luna, who was seated next to Jeonghan by the window, mirrored Dokyeom’s action, leaning in as she cupped her hands around her face in an attempt to block out the reflection. But instead of a view of Rome, all she saw was her own faint reflection staring back at her. Between the nighttime darkness and the bus’s heavily tinted windows, the outside world was completely invisible to them.

“It’s practically a mirror,” Luna noted with a small chuckle, giving up on trying to see outside and instead using the window’s reflection to fix her hair. She fluffed up her strands, tucking a few pieces behind her ear before turning her attention back to the lit interior of the bus.

[Uses it as mirror]

Slowly, the initial excitement of arrival began to settle down, and the members fell into their own quiet activities as the journey continued. Some scrolled through their phones, thumbs lazily flicking across the screens, while others engaged in hushed conversations, their voices blending into the soft hum of the engine. A few members, exhausted from the long day, had already dozed off, their heads lolling against the seats or resting on each other’s shoulders.

In their own little world, Luna had rested her head on Jeonghan’s shoulder, her body comfortably curled up against him as the steady motion of the bus lulled her into a peaceful state. Her fingers absentmindedly reached for Jeonghan’s hand, tracing small, invisible patterns over his skin before she started playing with the silver rings adorning his fingers. She twisted them gently, rolling them up and down before slipping them off entirely, trying them on her own fingers just to see how they fit.

Jeonghan allowed her to do whatever she pleased, his arm resting relaxed on his lap as he silently watched her with a lazy grin. He found it amusing how she entertained herself so easily, her curiosity evident in the way she examined each ring before returning it to its rightful place.

Then, an idea crossed his mind.

Without a word, Jeonghan gently took Luna’s hand in his, flipping it open so her palm faced upward. His fingers lightly brushed against her skin as he started tracing something with deliberate strokes.

Luna, quick to catch on, didn’t pull away. Instead, she glanced up at him with intrigue, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. “Is it a word or a drawing?” she asked softly.

“A word,” Jeonghan replied smoothly, the corners of his lips tugging into a teasing smirk.

Luna hummed, her brows furrowing slightly in concentration. “Write it again.”

Jeonghan obeyed, his finger gliding across her palm with feather-light precision, forming the same letters once more.

Luna’s lips parted as she concentrated. “Hmm… Is it ‘Rome’?” she guessed, tilting her head.

Jeonghan shook his head. “Wrong. Try again.”

Luna pouted slightly, pretending to be deeply offended by his rejection. “At least give me a hint!”

“No hints,” Jeonghan teased. “You’re smart, aren’t you?”

Luna huffed dramatically. “Fine, fine. Let me think.” She closed her eyes for a second before opening them again as he write it again. “Is it ‘sleep’?”

Jeonghan chuckled. “Close, but no.”

Luna groaned. “Okay, just tell me—”

“Nope. One more guess.”

She squinted at him suspiciously before turning her attention back to her hand, trying to recall the exact movement of his tracing. “Oh! Is it ‘tired’?”

Jeonghan’s grin widened. “Bingo.”

Luna smirked triumphantly. “See? Smart.”

“Barely,” Jeonghan teased, earning a playful shove from her.

Now it was her turn.

Luna took Jeonghan’s hand, flipping it over in the same manner he had done to hers. She gave him a knowing look before dragging her finger across his palm, forming a slow, deliberate pattern.

Jeonghan, eyes locked onto her face, waited until she finished before guessing. “Is it ‘Luna’?”

She scoffed. “You think I’m that predictable?”

Jeonghan smirked. “I mean, you love me. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Luna rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress her smile. “Wrong. Try again.”

Jeonghan tilted his head, closing his eyes as if that would somehow help him recall the movement more clearly. “Ah… is it ‘cute’?”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “Are you complimenting yourself?”

Jeonghan grinned. “I was referring to you, obviously.”

She sighed exaggeratedly. “Wrong.”

Jeonghan tapped his chin. “Then… ‘sleepy’?”

Luna’s eyes twinkled as she clicked her tongue. “Ding ding ding! We have a winner!”

“I knew it.” Jeonghan smirked. “You’re always sleepy, Nana-ya.”

“And you always look tired, so we’re even.”

[The ‘I’m tired, I’m sleepy’ counter: 2]

Jeonghan let out a dramatic sigh. “It’s hard work being this handsome.”

Luna snorted. “You mean, it’s hard work being this annoying.”

They continued taking turns, lost in their own bubble, whispering and teasing each other in the dimly lit bus.

Jeonghan’s next turn had Luna stumped for a bit before she finally guessed “sleepyhead,” correctly accusing him of drawing letters differently to confuse her.

Luna’s next turn had Jeonghan blinking at his palm, completely lost before she smugly revealed it was “cheat.”

And finally, Jeonghan’s last turn.

He took his time, making sure to write slowly and carefully this time. He watched Luna’s face, waiting for her reaction.

The moment he finished tracing, Luna’s eyes widened. A second later, she turned to look at him, a knowing smile tugging at her lips.

“Really?” she whispered.

Jeonghan shrugged, his expression feigning innocence. “What?”

Luna shook her head, biting her lower lip to suppress the fond grin spreading across her face. “‘143’, huh?”

Jeonghan chuckled, leaning in slightly. “Took you long enough.”

Luna rolled her eyes, but her fingers tightened slightly around his, her warmth lingering. “I knew right away, idiot.”

Jeonghan smirked. “Then why didn’t you say it immediately?”

Luna leaned closer, her voice just a whisper. “Because I wanted to see you get impatient.”

Jeonghan scoffed, amused. “You really are a menace.”

Luna squeezed his hand. “And yet, you love me.”

“Yeah,” Jeonghan admitted without hesitation, his voice soft as he gave her fingers a gentle squeeze back. “I do.”

A few more minutes passed, the bus humming softly beneath them as they rode through the streets of Rome. The city lights flickered outside, casting warm glows on the tinted windows.

The chatter among the members had died down into occasional bursts of laughter or quiet conversations as they settled into the journey

Then, PD Na’s voice crackled through the intercom, snapping everyone back to attention.

“Nana Tour will be arriving at the Colosseum in five minutes.”

Immediately, there was a shift in energy. Some members perked up in their seats, stretching and blinking away sleep, while others eagerly turned towards the windows. This time, the city lights were brighter, allowing them to finally see the world outside their previously pitch-black reflections.

Jun was the first to spot it. “I can see the Colosseum,” he said, pointing excitedly out the window.

A chorus of gasps and exclamations followed as the others pressed closer, their faces nearly squished against the glass.

“Wow.”

“That’s insane.”

“It’s so cool.”

Even the quieter members found themselves marveling at the sight before them.

[Time to get out of the bus]

Finally, the bus pulled to a stop. The members began gathering their things, stretching their limbs before stepping off one by one into the cool Roman night. The moment their feet touched the ground, they were greeted by the towering presence of the Colosseum, illuminated against the dark sky.

Luna stepped out, cradling Cherry the bunny in her arms as she followed behind the others. She tilted her head back to take in the grand structure before her, her eyes widening in awe. “Wow, it’s huge,” she murmured, her voice tinged with amazement.

Beside her, Wonwoo adjusted his glasses as he observed the massive amphitheater. “It feels different after seeing it from down here,” he commented.

PD Na, standing in front of the group with a tour guide flag that proudly read NANA TOUR— just in case anyone got lost, turned to them with a grin. “Isn’t it so cool? This has been here for two thousand years.”

Hoshi, ever the imaginative one, clasped his hands together as if he were seeing something completely different. “If you look at it like this— this is the Olympic Stadium,” he declared confidently.

The group burst into laughter, entertained by Hoshi’s unique perspective as they followed PD Na, who led them closer to the Colosseum’s entrance.

“I just want to walk around. What do I do?” Mingyu sighed dramatically, taking in the vast open space.

From next to him, Luna raised a brow. “We are walking around,” she pointed out, giving him an amused look.

Dokyeom let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “The fact that I’m walking around Rome right now… it’s funny.”

They finally reached a spot near the Colosseum where they could pause and take in the view properly. That was when PD Na turned to them with another announcement. “I think we are each going to film on our own and look around,” he said.

[Photo time]

At that, the members immediately scattered, some pulling out their phones to capture photos and videos while others simply took in the atmosphere with their own eyes.

Luna, like the rest, reached into her pocket and retrieved her phone, angling it up to take a picture of the Colosseum. Just as she was about to snap the shot, Mingyu, who was standing beside her, suddenly chuckled.

“Wow, I left my cell phone.”

[Mingyu’s favorite phrase: “I left…” or “Where is my…]

PD Na, who had clearly heard too many of these confessions from Mingyu throughout the trip, turned to him with exasperation. “What are you doing? How many things are you leaving behind?” he playfully scolded.

Mingyu, ever the carefree giant, simply shrugged. “I am seeing it with my eyes,” he said, as if that was enough justification.

Luna, narrowing her eyes at him, tilted her head. “Left it where? In the bus, right?”

Mingyu let out a sheepish laugh. “Of course, at the bus.”

Luna, unimpressed, gave him a teasing look. “Just making sure. You could have left it on the plane for all we know.”

She shot him a playful smirk before turning on her heel to walk away. But before she could get far, she suddenly felt a weight on her back— a very large, very heavy weight.

“Ya—”

Mingyu had draped himself over her like a giant koala, his long arms wrapping loosely around her neck as if he was waiting for her to carry him like a piggyback ride.

[Gets tackled by a man half her size]

“Stop— Kim Mingyu!”

She squealed, staggering slightly as she tried to balance herself under his weight. His laughter rumbled in her ear as he clung onto her, completely unbothered.

From the side, Jeonghan and Minghao had already reacted, each moving instinctively to grab one of her arms, keeping her steady.

“Ya, Kim Mingyu,” Jeonghan scolded, though his voice held a twinge of amusement.

[Scolded by the vice-leader]

Luna could only struggle, her body slightly hunched forward as Mingyu continued to leech onto her like an overgrown child. “Kim Mingyu, get off! What do you think I am? Do I look like I can carry you?”

Mingyu simply let out another laugh, still not letting go as they waddled forward like an awkwardly fused pair.

Luna let out an exasperated breath, still trying to steady herself as Mingyu remained latched onto her like an overgrown koala. She shot him a glare over her shoulder, her voice sharp yet undeniably amused.

“Kim Mingyu, if you’re going to cling onto me like this, at least do something useful and carry me instead!”

Mingyu, who was still comfortably draped on her back, let out a deep chuckle. Releasing his hold, he slowly peeled himself off of her, standing back to his full height with an amused glint in his eyes.

Then, without a word, he slightly crouched down in front of her, patting his shoulders in invitation.

Luna blinked, her lips parting slightly in surprise before she let out a small huff, but a grin tugged at her lips as she stepped forward. She climbed onto his back, wrapping her arms securely around his neck— one hand gripping her phone while the other still held Cherry the bunny safely between her arm.

[And now she’s happy]

Mingyu’s hands found their place under her legs, his large palms securing her comfortably before he gave a light bounce, adjusting her weight.

“You good?” Mingyu asked, turning his head slightly to check on her.

Luna nodded, shifting slightly. “Yeah, just don’t—”

Before she could finish, Mingyu took off.

“Ya! Kim Mingyu!”

Her startled yelp turned into uncontrollable laughter as Mingyu dashed forward, carrying her closer to the Colosseum. His long strides covered the distance quickly, and before she could even regain her breath, he suddenly started spinning.

[#SaveLuna]

“Oh my god, Gyu— stop! Stop spinning, you maniac!” Luna squealed, tightening her grip around his shoulders.

Mingyu only laughed louder, clearly enjoying the chaos he had created.

Luna, knowing there was no way to stop him with sheer force, resorted to the only logical solution— she smacked the back of his head. “If you trip and fall with me, I’m going to actually kill you.”

Mingyu let out a dramatic groan, still laughing. “Ouch! Violence!” he teased, but he did slow down, eventually coming to a stop as he stood in front of the Colosseum.

Luna exhaled, still catching her breath, before an idea popped into her mind. She lifted her phone and adjusted the angle, preparing to take a picture.

“Don’t drop me, I’m serious, Gyu. I’m going to take a photo,” she warned, her tone shifting into something genuinely serious despite the amusement in her eyes.

Mingyu scoffed, tightening his grip on her legs. “What do you take me for? You’re precious cargo, you know. I’m basically your personal tripod right now.”

[Kim Mingyu the tripod]

Luna laughed at that, shaking her head as she focused her camera. Deciding to trust him completely, she slowly removed her other hand from around his neck, leaving her entirely unsupported except for the firm grip Mingyu had on her legs. Holding her phone with both hands, she framed the shot, her gaze focused on capturing the grand structure before her.

For a moment, she was completely still, trusting Mingyu’s strength as she immersed herself in the view.

But that moment of peace was short-lived.

Jeonghan, who had been watching from the side with his usual mix of fondness and exasperation, immediately moved behind her. Without hesitation, he placed a firm palm on her back, his touch grounding.

“Ya, Bae Jiyeon– tsk.”

The sharp yet affectionate sound of his tongue clicking had Luna turning her head, her expression immediately shifting into a sheepish smile as she met his unimpressed gaze.

[Scolded by the vice-leader pt. 2]

And just like that, her reckless fun had been caught red-handed.

Jeonghan’s unimpressed gaze remained locked on Luna, his dark eyes carrying the weight of a silent scolding. He didn’t even need to say anything— the look alone was enough to make it clear that he was not amused by what she had just done.

Feeling the heat of his stare, Luna quickly wrapped her arms around Mingyu’s neck again, as if that would somehow protect her from Jeonghan’s impending lecture. But the moment Mingyu caught sight of Jeonghan’s expression, his instincts for self-preservation kicked in.

Without hesitation, he let go of her legs and gently set her down, stepping back as if he had never been involved in any of this. His hands shot up in surrender, and he took a few cautious steps away. “Okay, yeah, you two can deal with that. I was never here.”

Luna turned to glare at him. “Traitor.”

Mingyu only grinned sheepishly before making a quick escape, leaving Luna alone to face Jeonghan. She turned back to him, her lips forming a small pout before she took a step closer, wrapping her arms around his waist in an attempt to soften him up.

“Sorry.” Her voice was small, almost childlike, as she rested her forehead against his chest.

Jeonghan let out a deep sigh, his irritation melting away as he felt her warmth against him. He raised a hand to gently smooth over her hair, his fingers carding through the soft strands.

“Be careful, please.” His voice was softer now, the warning laced with nothing but concern.

Luna nodded obediently, pulling back to give him a small smile before they resumed walking, taking in the beauty of the Colosseum while the other members scattered in different directions, capturing their own moments. Some were snapping photos, some were simply standing still, absorbing the view, and others—like Mingyu— were probably still running away from Jeonghan’s wrath.

As they strolled through the historic site, Jeonghan suddenly let out a sigh. “I’m tired.”

Luna, who had been glancing around, hummed in agreement. “Me too… I really want to sleep.”

[The ‘I’m tired, I’m sleepy’ counter: 3]

Then, as if a switch had been flipped, her exhaustion was momentarily forgotten, her eyes lighting up with excitement. She tugged on Jeonghan’s hand eagerly.

“Take a photo of me here, Hannie, please.”

Jeonghan didn’t protest, simply holding out his hand as Luna eagerly handed him her phone. She positioned herself in front of the Colosseum at a spot she liked, adjusting her posture before striking a pose.

Jeonghan crouched down, angling the phone to get the perfect shot. He moved slightly, tilting the phone to find the best perspective, his gaze focused entirely on capturing her in the best light.

Just as Luna shifted, assuming she was done, Jeonghan held up a hand to stop her.

“Stay there, Nana-ya,” His voice was firm yet casual, his eyes still locked onto the screen.

Luna blinked but complied, watching as Jeonghan smoothly pulled out his own phone, switching from photographer to personal paparazzi. He snapped a few more shots, his sharp gaze ensuring each one was perfect before he finally lowered his phone and looked at her.

“Pretty girl.”

The simple compliment caught Luna off guard, and she felt warmth creep up her neck. She quickly glanced away, her cheeks slightly flushed— but before she could recover, her eyes landed on Joshua.

Excited, she grabbed Jeonghan’s hand. “Joshie! Can you take a photo of me and Han, please?”

She handed Joshua her phone, which he accepted without hesitation, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched the two of them move closer together. The couple posed comfortably, Jeonghan standing next to her while Luna leaned in slightly, their expressions relaxed as Joshua took a few shots.

Once the quick photo session was over, they thanked Joshua and moved towards the group, reuniting with the rest of the members.

As they neared the Colosseum wall, Jeonghan suddenly made his intentions clear.

“I am going to touch the Colosseum and go.”

Without waiting, he reached out, pressing his palm against the ancient stone surface, nodding as if he had just completed a great achievement.

Dokyeom, who had been nearby, immediately followed suit, mirroring Jeonghan’s action. “How is it? Hand that touched the Colosseum?” he asked, grinning.

Luna chuckled at their antics, quickly snapping a picture of the two of them before her gaze shifted to another scene— Hoshi, crouched down, reaching for the ground with great enthusiasm.

“The Colosseum ground.” Hoshi declared dramatically, as if touching it held some deep historical significance.

[The tiger is pawing the ground]

Luna giggled, lifting her phone to capture the moment. “You guys…” she trailed off, shaking her head fondly as she continued filming their antics.

As the group remained caught up in their own fun, Luna walked ahead, taking more photos on her phone. She was too focused on capturing the scenery to notice that Jeonghan, instead of walking beside her, had slowed his pace. His phone was lifted in her direction, quietly taking pictures of her as she moved.

Her back was to him, her form bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, completely unaware that he was documenting her existence in the most candid way possible.

Soon, she found herself nearing Minghao, who was sitting on one of the steps, his eyes fixed on the view in comfortable silence. Without a word, Luna moved to sit next to him, mirroring his posture as she let the peaceful moment sink in.

Her gaze drifted back to the group, just in time to see Dokyeom lying fully on the ground as Joshua stood over him, taking a photo.

Luna raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help but smile. This was exactly what a SEVENTEEN trip looked like— pure, chaotic fun in the most ridiculous ways possible.

[Only SEVENTEEN]

Luna had been watching them but as she giggled at the scene, an idea suddenly sparked in her mind. Her eyes widened slightly, and she clutched Cherry— the cherry red plushie she had been carrying around all day— before quickly standing up.

Without a word, she moved closer to the Colosseum, scanning for the perfect spot. Finding a small, clean patch of ground near the base of the ancient structure, she gently set Cherry down, adjusting the plushie’s position as if it were a real person.

Taking a few steps back, she crouched down with precise focus, her phone angled carefully in her hands.

[Strike a pose and Vogue]

She had promised Seungcheol that Cherry would take his place first while he was back in Korea, and she intended to fulfill that promise properly.

The plushie sat proudly in front of the Colosseum, looking oddly regal despite its small size. Luna tilted her head, making sure the framing was just right, before snapping a few pictures. Then, unsatisfied, she shuffled slightly to the left, adjusted Cherry’s posture, and took a few more.

[Her own muse]

She was so engrossed in her mission that she didn’t notice the members slowly gathering a few feet away. One by one, they huddled around Hoshi, who was now holding his phone, an idea of their own forming.

“What time is it in Korea right now?” Dino asked, tilting his head.

“Six in the morning,” Jeonghan answered smoothly, barely needing to think.

“Coups must be tired,” Dino said, a hint of sympathy in his voice.

But instead of leaving their leader to rest, Hoshi’s finger hovered over the screen, dialing Seungcheol. They all leaned in, eyes fixed on the phone, waiting for him to pick up.

“It’s funny if he picks up at this time,” Jeonghan remarked, smirking slightly.

“I think he might pick up,” Dino countered, glancing at the screen expectantly.

And after just a few seconds— against all odds— the familiar face of Choi Seungcheol appeared on the screen.

“He picked up,” a few of them chorused in shock, their voices overlapping in disbelief.

“Hyung!” Dino called out excitedly.

“We came to the Colosseum,” Hoshi added quickly, flipping the camera to show the grand structure behind them.

On the screen, Seungcheol was barely awake, his eyes squinting as he adjusted to the brightness from the phone. He blinked a few times, his gaze darting around to take in all of the members who had gathered.

[The leader has been woken and did a head count]

And then, his tired brain seemed to register something— or other, someone— was missing.

“Where is Jiyeonie?” was the first thing he mumbled, his voice groggy but immediately concerned.

The members froze for a second, glancing among themselves as if suddenly realizing she wasn’t part of their little huddle.

Then, like a slow-motion scene in a comedy film, their heads turned in sync toward the side, where Luna was still busy crouched down, snapping pictures of Cherry with intense concentration.

[Peek-a-boo]

“Aigo… noona…” Seungkwan chuckled, shaking his head.

“She’s…” Mingyu started, but laughter overtook him before he could finish his sentence.

Hoshi chuckled as he flipped the camera towards Luna, capturing her completely oblivious to their antics. “Our Jiyeonie is busy,” he narrated dramatically, making the others snicker.

S.Coups let out a deep sigh on the other end, rubbing his face. “Don’t lose her,” he muttered as if he were scolding a bunch of irresponsible babysitters.

[The second time they lose her today]

At that, Jeonghan, who had been watching with amusement, finally decided to call her over. “Nana-ya!”

Luna looked up immediately at the sound of Jeonghan’s voice, her large doe eyes blinking in curiosity. She clearly hadn’t noticed that the entire group had gathered without her, nor did she seem to care. But the moment she spotted Seungcheol’s sleepy face on the screen, her entire expression lit up.

Grabbing Cherry with both hands, she shot up from her crouched position and practically skipped towards them, squealing, “Coupsie!” as she joined the huddle.

Seungcheol gave a small wave, still looking half-asleep. “Is it fun?” he asked, now that their chaotic group was finally complete.

“We came to the Colosseum. Do you see that behind us?” Seungkwan said, angling the phone up dramatically to showcase the massive landmark.

“Let’s take a photo,” Hoshi suggested excitedly. He turned the phone to face the crew, who were already in front of them, filming and preparing to take a picture of the whole group now that they had their leader on the call.

“We are together,” Hoshi declared as Seungcheol, still lying in bed, managed a sleepy peace sign. The members all smiled as the camera flash went off.

[Flash! Flash! Flash!]

For a few seconds, the light flickered as the photos were taken, and Luna, arms still loosely wrapped around Jeonghan’s waist, deadpanned, “I’m sure that woke him up.”

[It did]

“My eyes hurt,” S.Coups groaned, confirming her statement as he blinked rapidly to adjust.

Once they were done, they thanked the crew for taking the picture, laughter still lingering in the air as they continued speaking to their leader.

Hoshi turned the camera around, his hand steady as he positioned the phone to showcase the grandeur of the Colosseum. “Should I show you the Colosseum?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of excitement as he prepared to act as Seungcheol’s personal tour guide despite the limitations of a phone screen.

On the other end, Seungcheol, still groggy from being woken up, blinked at the sudden movement of the screen. His voice was low and drowsy as he mumbled, “Yes, show me.”

Hoshi enthusiastically flipped the camera, angling it so that the full scope of the Colosseum was in view, but even through the screen, it was clear that the sheer scale of the monument couldn’t be captured properly. The members, who had gathered around to watch, hummed in agreement.

“But… it won’t capture it on the screen,” Woozi pointed out, tilting his head as he observed the way the structure shrank in comparison to its real-life magnitude.

“The marvelousness won’t get captured,” Wonwoo agreed, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed the video feed.

[The camera doesn’t do it justice]

Seungcheol, despite his sleepy state, managed to process the scene before him and let out a soft hum before remarking, “‘Super’ MV… it looks like the ‘Super’ MV set.”

The members chuckled at the unexpected comparison, and Hoshi, ever the enthusiastic one, nodded in agreement. “It’s big, right?” he said, his voice filled with awe.

Seungcheol hummed again in response, but before he could say anything more, Luna, who had been quietly watching, leaned closer to the phone, concern laced in her voice.

“Coupsie, you should sleep more,” she said softly. Then, with a playful but gentle touch, she cupped the phone with both hands as if shielding her words from the rest of the members— though, of course, they all heard her anyway. She whispered, “Don’t worry, like I promised… I’ll take you here when you’re better.”

[That’s a promise]

The warmth in her voice made Seungcheol’s groggy features soften further, a small fond smile tugging at his lips as he gazed at her through the screen.

It was a promise he knew she would keep.

Luna then pulled away and waved at him with a bright, reassuring smile. “Sleep well, Coupsie.”

Seungcheol, despite his exhaustion, lifted a lazy hand and waved in response. “Mm.”

“Yes, Coups. Good night,” Hoshi added, waving at the screen before turning the phone to show the other members, who were all gathered around, sending their own waves and goodnights. Seungcheol waved back, albeit sluggishly, before he finally ended the call, his screen going dark.

[Good night]

The moment the call ended, Jeonghan, who had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to make his declaration, clapped his hands together, his tone decisive. “Okay! Let’s film reels and go!”

Luna giggled at how clear it was that Jeonghan wanted nothing more than to get to bed. His energy, which had been somewhat sustained by the excitement of the trip, was now rapidly depleting, and she could tell he was ready to collapse at any given moment.

“Members, please all come here,” Seungkwan called out, taking charge as the group began assembling in front of the Colosseum.

They linked arms, forming a straight line, their movements slightly sluggish from exhaustion but still full of enthusiasm for the final task before they could officially call it a night.

“What are we doing?” Luna asked, confused but still following along, slotting herself between Hoshi and Jun as she linked arms with them.

“We are gonna lean and fall down,” Mingyu explained, motioning with his free arm to demonstrate what they were about to do.

It took Luna a second to process before realization dawned on her. “Ah…” she nodded in understanding. They were about to do the viral trend where they all leaned and fell sideways, creating a seamless transition to another location in their video.

[Trendy SEVENTEEN]

As the crew positioned themselves to film, some members took the time to ensure everyone knew exactly what needed to be done. Amidst the light chatter, Luna glanced down at Cherry, still held securely in her hand. Without hesitation, she took the plushie’s small arms and looped one through hers before turning to Hoshi and offering him Cherry’s other arm.

[Hello!]

Hoshi, instead of questioning it, simply looked down at her with a fond smile before linking his own arm with the plushie’s, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He understood without words— Luna was a woman of her word. Cherry would take Seungcheol’s place for this entire trip, just as she had promised their leader.

“Remember this spot right now,” Hoshi reminded them, knowing that they’d have to replicate the exact setup in another location for the transition to work smoothly.

The members murmured the names of the people beside them under their breaths, making mental notes to ensure they stood in the same order later.

Then, Hoshi, taking the lead as the performance leader of the moment. “Guys, we’ll go after three. Let’s fall after three,” he instructed, making sure everyone was ready.

A small pause settled over them before he counted down. “1… 2… 3… let’s go…”

In perfect synchronization, they all leaned to the left, tipping over as if being caught in a wave before catching themselves at the last second. The camera captured it all smoothly, sealing the moment for their content.

“Okay, let’s go,” PD Na announced, satisfied with the take.

[On to the Airbnb]

“Let’s go,” Jeonghan immediately echoed, his voice filled with relief.

“Let’s go home,” Minghao followed up, his tone just as exhausted.

“Yes… finally,” Luna sighed dramatically, her voice filled with longing as she practically skipped forward, catching up to Jeonghan, who was leading the group alongside PD Na. They were right at the front, practically glued to the staff members directing them back to their transport.

The excitement of the trip was still there, but at that moment, it was overshadowed by the undeniable exhaustion creeping into their bones. It felt like they had been traveling for twenty-four hours straight. Maybe they actually had— from Tokyo to Korea, then to Italy. The time zones were blurring together.

Jeonghan and Luna, the self-proclaimed sleep bunnies, were ready to crash.

Tomorrow, they would wake up rejuvenated, ready to fully immerse themselves in the experience. But for now… they just needed to recharge… if PD Na would let them…

[To be continued in Clip 1-4]

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