#I HAD AN IDEA AND THEN I BLACKED OUT FOR AN HOUR

[kissandtellus]

Nasty Dog: Hybrid Caleb

Synopsis: Black Cat/Himbo Dog Energy for Hybrid!Caleb and Hybrid!Reader! Her Heat kicks in early and Caleb is a big dumb dog who can’t take a hint:((

Warnings: Omegaverse, Oral, Grinding, Biggg stretch, Size Difference.

Hybrids of opposite species were usually complete opposites. But the world was changing, becoming more accustomed to the idea. Now when you walked on the streets you saw Hybrids of all shapes and sizes together, some even holding the hands of little mixed-species children who lapped happily at ice cream.

That was the world you lived in.

Who else were you fated to spend the rest of eternity with if not your beloved Caleb?

You were raised side by side, every good and bad moment from your childhood was shared with Caleb.

He was a canine Hybrids, a military grade to be exact. His chest was wide, shoulders broad and muscles for the hunt were always coiled like a spring.

You on the other hand, with your cute pouts and sass, was all Feline. Sharp eyes, independent attitude and all.

Learning to love each other was the easy part.

Your nearly glowing eyes looked at the clock on the wall with disinterest. But inside your anxiety made you want to hide under your bed and surround yourself with Caleb’s uniforms. He was supposed to have been home an hour ago.

The smell of your early on-set Heat was filling the apartment. You weren’t supposed to start for another week at the very least.

Caleb forbid Heat suppressants in this house.

“Fuck…” you mewled at the uncomfortable heat pooling between your legs. Every hair on your body was on edge. You were sprawled across the couch, your belly against the fabric as you fought the urge to please yourself. You found out a long time ago that trying to relieve that pressure only made it worse.

Finally. Finally the door opened, and the soft sound of humming came from the doorway. Oh, your big, goofy mate couldn’t take the hint of it hit him in the face. He pounces on you from behind (as if he could ever surprise you).

Caleb laughed and nuzzled the back of your neck. He was far too energetic and happy to notice that tell-tale signs of your Heat. “Did ya miss me Pips? Oh I missed you! Oh-“ he took the arching of your back as you trying to throw him off, not the arch of a Heat induced Omega who needed his knot. “Trying to buck me off? You’re so cute Pips. Well then-“

His jowls clamped the back of your neck, not in the claiming way you desired. More like a dog that was throwing around its favorite rope. His head twisted as he bit down around the flesh and you couldn’t keep playing the game anymore.

“Caleb~!” Oh, that tone. The way your eyes narrowed, mouth fell open and you grinded back against him. He took a sharp breath and you felt him throb through his uniform pants. He had to be sure. He snuck his head down to press his face into the side of your neck, right above your mating mark. “Stupid, big, dumb dog-“

He silenced your insults by sinking his teeth right into the healed over mark, pinning your face to the couch. Your response was a purr of pleasure, maybe even a squeak but you’d never admit it.

He lets go of your neck and laps at the trickle of blood. “Oh Pips, your Heat started early huh?”

Smug, Arrogant, Mean-

He turns you from under him so you are finally gazing up into his big beautiful purple eyes.

Handsome, Lovely, Strong-

“Help me…” you mewl out, arching your back into him. His ears twitch, his noise mimicking the motion. He moves back to his knees, stripping off his uniform too, medals and badges flying every which way.

“I know what you need Pips. Give me a sec.” His voice is doing little to soothe the ache. He peels open the buttons of his undershirt and you are on him in a second. Rubbing your face in his scent, tongue peeking out to taste his flesh. “Pretty girl, use your words ‘kay? Tell me what you need.”

Caleb was big on consent, even when he was throbbing in his tight pants. You whimper, still trying to drink in his taste. “Hey, no.” He grabs the hair on the nape of your neck, pulling you from him by mere inches. “Eyes up here.”

You try to focus your bleary eyes on his features, lips parting in a mewl. “Hurts…” you hiccup, ears flattening back on your head. Caleb coos yours cry, wiping his thumbs under your eyes to catch the stray tears. “Need you Caleb. Feel like I’m gonna die.”

Caleb gives a soft chuckle to your overdramatic display. “I’ve got ya Pips. What do you need from me?

Your hands rest on his shoulders as you pounce, straddling his lap as you grind forward against his bulging cock. “Need your Knot, need it splitting me open, need you to k-a-ahh!”

Before you could finish your pleading, he pushes his hand down the front of your pajama pants. “You’re soaked. My poor girl. Lean back, show me.” You are usually argumentative, baring your teeth and telling him not to tell you what to do. But you are tugging yours cry pants down to yous ankles, grasping the back of your thighs and presenting yourself like the most delectable prey.

Caleb can’t help the actual drool that dribbles down the side of his mouth as he stares at your glistening folds. “Don’t s-stare!” You whine, moving to close your legs again.

But Caleb shoots out his hands and grasps both of your ankles in one hand, pushing them back until your knees are in your chest. “Don’t you dare hide from me. You need this, need me.”

His gloves are still covering those long fingers you want inside of your throbbing cunt. They run down your swollen folds, his eyes flicking from your need to your eyes.

“Pretty Kitty, I’m sorry you had to deal with this today. Let me make it up to you?” And before you can answer, he’s taking off his hat, placing it on your head, and going to town between your legs. Your eyes are rolling back as he devours you. His tongue plunges into your leaking hole, gathering slick on his tongue just to push it back into you.

Your fingers extend to those cute little claws, digging into his scalp. His tail, poking out from his pants, is wagging so fast you fear he might hurt himself. But his eyes never leave your face. He craves your praise, even when the evidence of his good deeds is leaking down his chin.

“Caleb! Ca-ahhh fuck!” His gloved hand comes down sharp on your inner thigh. He pulls back to lick his chops, sharp fangs glistening with your wetness.

“Language, Pipsqueak.”

You mewl, arching your hips back up towards his face.

“Need you! Need your cock! Need your knot! Need-“ Caleb cuts you off with a lunge, pinning your knees to your chest. The motion knocks the air from your lungs. Your legs dangle over his shoulder and he rubs his aching tip between your folds.

Schlick. Schlick. Schlick.

The noise could make any sinner blush. Your fluffy ears flatten to your skull as you try to find the proper words. Your blubbering out nonsense that would no doubt make you feel embarrassed afterwards.

“Here we go Kitty. Bigggg stretch! Hey no, claws away. Good fuckin’ girl~” His length is stretching your gooey sopping walls to the upmost extent. You are mindful of the claws in his shoulders even as you feel the air push from your lungs.

Yeah. This was going to be a brutal heat.

[shiny-jr]

A REQUIEM: chapter one

– Summary: When your friend vanishes, their disappearance becomes buried under the massive wave of missing person cases. You take matters into your own hand, initiating your own investigation in hopes to find their possible whereabouts. The clues you have lead you to the Saja Boys.

– Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender neutral reader.

– Note: Will I continue this? I can. Potentially. It can be a small series, probably no longer than five parts in total. Let me know what y'all think? I just wanted to put this part out there because I had the idea simmering for a few hours and finally had to write it out.

– Pages: 3

ch. I | ???

A phone and a conversation. Those were the only two things left behind when your best friend mysteriously went missing one day. Just two clues, and nothing more. No one could answer where or why they just up and vanished, as if they never even existed. There were no traces. 

At first, the local authorities had taken the case seriously. At least, as serious as it could be taken when there were no ominous signs that your dear friend was in any danger. They had asked if your friend had a habit of disappearing, perhaps they went off grid for a bit, it does happen sometimes. But this wasn’t like that, you were sure of it. 

When the missing person cases piled up, your best friend was practically left forgotten, just a face on a poster buried under a heaping pile of more missing person posters. While the police may have forgotten about your friend in the sudden overwhelming surge of dozens of missing persons, you could not forget them. If they would not find them, then you would. 

There were only those two clues: the phone and a conversation. 

Their phone had been found by an alleyway just outside their apartment, between living facilities and a twenty-four hour convenience store. You managed to recover the phone, and opened it with the password you had memorized from watching them input it thousands of times. The first thing that greeted you was a bright screen, nearly blinding you with dazzling colors of mint green and pastel yellow bubbles rising above the words Saja Boys –– Join the Pride! Followed by the image of a five member boy band against a cotton candy colored background, beckoning anyone to join them by becoming a fan. The name of the band was too familiar. 

That led you to the second clue. You were likely the last person who talked to your friend before they went missing. Unfortunately, the conversation had been a rather mundane one. They had called you while they were walking home at sunset, raving about some crazy awesome new band performing a free show they found while out at the town. Stanning new boy bands was not high on your list of priorities at the time, so you just hummed along, letting your friend gush and yap about the experience to their little heart’s content. Eventually, after what felt like hours, they decided to end the call once they were by the convenience store next door to their place. And that was it. That was the last time anyone had heard from them. 

The morning after, you woke up to an obnoxious amount of videos hopping on the dance trend plastered all over social media for these Saja Boys and about fifty missed calls from the family and friends of your companion. 

With little to no choice, you tracked down some events where these Saja Boys would appear. The last thing you wanted to do was attend shows or meet and greets with pretty boys while your friend was still nowhere to be found, but this was the only lead you had. Both the phone and the last conversation held mention of the Saja Boys. So, you made your way to one of their events. 

The line must have been miles long with limited entry. There was no way you were waiting, just to be denied entry when you finally got to the front because of a full house. For these sorts of things, you came prepared. Dressed in all black like a funeral, with a very official looking clipboard (the pages just had printed gibberish), a bag of makeup, and a lanyard around your neck, you looked just like an official assistant. This allowed you to practically waltz in through an unlocked back door. No one dared to stop you, not when you schooled your expression into one of calm casualness to mask the hint of anxiety, frustration, and guilt you felt deep down in the pits of your stomach. 

As you attempted to navigate the maze of hallways and corridors, there was that voice of regret nagging at the back of your skull. Maybe, just maybe, if you had not allowed the phone call to end and stayed on the line until they stepped into the threshold of their home, then none of this would have happened. They would still be here, talking your ear off, and you wouldn’t have to be doing this. In the midst of your brooding, you collided with something firm like a wall. 

Those negative thoughts and sentiments faded as you were dragged back into reality. It was loud, from somewhere nearby, there was an announcer entertaining a restless crowd of eager fans. When you looked up, it was then you realized you didn’t hit a wall. You hit a person. 

A face looked down at you, one that was far too perfect to be real. Yes, you knew idols were supposed to appear like the ideal image of perfection, but this was different. Insane, even. A tall frame and skin that just looked soft and flawless, dark hair that was black and without even a single strand out of place, and deep brown eyes that looked down at your meager simple person. You knew that face. The same one that had been gazing at you adoringly from your friend’s phone screen.

“You’re late.” 

You knew that voice. Nevermind that the owner did not seem to really care if you bumped into him or not. Did he even feel it? The same voice that had been beckoning you forward in that video, pleading you with sweet tones to join the Pride. 

“Saja Boys, you’re on in five!” One of the crew members with a headset shouted from somewhere nearby, probably deeper backstage. You knew that name. 

It only took one extra second for you to realize that this man wasn’t alone, he was joined by the others just a few feet behind him. Five in total, each almost as brilliant and radiant as the last. It was impossible to tear your eyes away, but something was off. There was something in the back of your mind, like an alarm going off. They were all looking at you with mixed reactions of plain boredom or devilish smiles of amusement, and suddenly you felt as if you were some timid creature that had intentionally and rather stupidly wandered straight into the lions’ den. 

The dark haired one, who you had to assume was the leader of this group, eyed you up and down. For a split second, he appeared repulsed as if the mere sight of you was displeasing. When you blinked, he was now giving you such a poised and charming smile. Did you just imagine that? He extended a hand, and you weren’t sure if he was looking for a handshake or expecting you to elegantly place your hand in his as if he were a charming prince. “You’re going to help us, aren’t you, assistant?”

[mrs-delaney]

1st Year Down

🏈 Joe Burrow x Reader | 3.3k-ish words

Request: hi my love!! hope you are doing well. i was hoping to get a joe burrow imagine where his wife and him celebrate their sons first birthday with the whole team, but joe is reminiscing on the past one year of his sons life from newborn stage till his 1st bday.

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Author’s Note:

This was a sweet request for a Joe imagine where he celebrates his son’s first birthday with the team, while reflecting on the first year of fatherhood. I loved the idea of framing it around a backyard party, with all those little milestone memories woven in.

Big thanks to my new beta reader @crazytheoriststrawberry for the thoughtful feedback and fresh eyes, this one’s better because of you.

Also, Hide is coming (I promise). There are a few time jumps in the next chapter, so I’m just making sure everything lines up before I post. 🧡 

The matcha bar was her idea, of course. 

Joe stood near the setup, multiple milk options, little jars of honey, lavender, strawberry, and vanilla, watching his wife explain brewing techniques to Sam Hubbard. Orange and black balloons bobbed in the afternoon breeze, and a custom “1st Year Down” banner stretched between two oak trees, tiger stripes woven through everything.

His attention kept drifting to the tiny figure in the custom Bengals jersey crawling across the grass.

His son wore a miniature version of Joe's jersey, the number 9 stretched across his back. Orange and black striped socks completed the look, though one had already started sliding down his chubby leg as he made his determined journey toward where Ja'Marr and Tee squatted on the grass.

"Look at him go," Ja'Marr called out, grinning as the baby bypassed every carefully arranged toy to head straight for him.

Tee was already reaching into his pocket. "I got goldfish if he wants some—"

"He can't have those yet," Joe's wife called from the matcha station, not even looking up from the elaborate setup she'd created. "He's still working on puffs."

The baby reached Ja'Marr and immediately grabbed for the chain around his neck, tiny fingers surprisingly strong. His giggle—high and bright—cut through the party chatter.

"Bro, your kid's got good taste," Ja'Marr said, gently redirecting little hands toward a soft football. "Goes right for the good stuff."

It was surreal, watching his teammates—these massive, intimidating athletes—melt around a one-year-old. Sam was still asking detailed questions about matcha preparation. Tee had grabbed a handful of baby-safe snacks from the snack station and was carefully offering them one by one. His son was completely in his element, like he'd been charming football players his whole life.

Which, Joe supposed, he had been.

His wife caught his eye from across the yard, that smile spreading across her face—the one that still got to him after all this time. The one that said can you believe this is our life?

A year ago, Joe never could have imagined this scene. The house, the matcha bar, his teammates arguing over who got to hold the baby next.

A year ago, he'd been standing in a hospital room at 3:47 AM, holding seven pounds and two ounces of pure terror and beauty.

* * *

Twelve months ago...

Joe had been staring at his son for the better part of an hour. Ten fingers, each one barely the width of a pencil eraser. Perfect fingernails that looked like they'd been painted on.

The baby was finally sleeping. The crying had stopped around 3:30, and Joe hadn't moved since, afraid to disturb whatever peace they'd found. His wife was dozing too, the epidural still working its way out of her system.

He counted things. The baby's breaths—steady at about forty per minute, which the nurse said was normal for sleeping. How many times his tiny chest rose and fell. The way his lips moved slightly in his sleep.

The curve of his son's ear, folded perfectly against his head. The dark hair sticking up despite the nurse's attempts to smooth it down. The birthmark on his left shoulder that looked like a small comma.

Details he knew he'd never forget.

His phone buzzed intermittently—texts he hadn't read, calls he hadn't answered. Everything could wait.

The baby's eyes opened briefly, unfocused but alert, scanning before settling somewhere near Joe's face. Not really seeing him yet, but aware.

"Yeah," Joe said quietly. "I'm here. I love you."

All he could manage. All that needed to be said.

* * *

"Joe! You good, man?"

Ja'Marr's voice pulled him back to the backyard, to orange and black balloons and teammates' laughter. His son had made it across the yard and was now gripping Joe's jeans, pulling himself up with the concentration of someone attempting their first field goal.

"Yeah," Joe said, reaching down to steady his son's wobbly stance. "Just... thinking."

"About what?" Ja'Marr asked, though his attention was already shifting back to Tee explaining peek-a-boo to Sam Hubbard.

The same dark hair, still sticking up in impossible directions. The same eyes, though they were focused now, alert, tracking everything around him.

Twelve months. Seven pounds, two ounces to whatever he weighed now. Joe realized he didn't actually know his son's current weight, which felt like something he should know.

"Dada," his son said, clear as anything, looking up with a grin that showed off his four teeth.

* * *

1st Night Home

Three days since he'd been born. Their first night home. Joe had changed four diapers in the past three hours. He'd counted.

The baby was crying again—had been crying for twenty minutes—and Joe was running out of options. He'd tried feeding. Changing. Burping. Walking around the living room while making what he hoped were soothing sounds.

Nothing worked.

His wife was finally sleeping after three days of barely closing her eyes. Joe had insisted on taking the night shift, confident he could handle whatever came up. He was good under pressure. He could read defenses, make split-second decisions.

But his son wasn't responding to any strategy.

The red-faced, furious bundle in his arms was getting louder, more insistent, and Joe felt useless. He'd googled "why won't my baby stop crying" twice already.

"What do you need?" he asked quietly, knowing he wouldn't get an answer. "I'm trying everything here."

The crying continued.

Joe sat carefully on the couch edge, adjusting his hold. Maybe the baby could sense his nervousness. Maybe he was doing something wrong. Maybe he wasn't cut out for the figuring-it-out part that seemed to come naturally to his wife.

He'd watched her earlier, the way she seemed to know what their son needed before he even started fussing. Joe felt like he was guessing at everything.

The baby's cries softened slightly, more whimper than wail. Joe stayed perfectly still, afraid to move and set off another round of screaming.

"Okay," he said under his breath. "We're figuring it out."

He wasn't sure if he was talking to his son or himself.

* * *

First Smile

Six weeks. Joe had only been gone for two days, his first road trip since the baby was born, but it felt longer. He’d spent most of it checking his phone between meetings and practices, scrolling through photos his wife sent. Sleeping, eating, more sleeping.  He’d gotten home after midnight, letting himself in quietly, dropping his bag without a sound. The house was dark and peaceful. His wife was asleep, and the baby was in his bassinet, one tiny fist curled near his face.  Joe stood there for a while, just watching. Wondering if two days were long enough for a six-week-old to forget someone. Wondering if he’d have to start over.

He'd finally fallen asleep around 2 AM, but when the baby woke at 5:30, Joe got up. Let his wife sleep. She'd been handling everything alone for two days.

"Hey," he said quietly, lifting his son from the bassinet. "It's me. I'm back."

The baby blinked up at him, unfocused eyes trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Joe held his breath, waiting for crying to start, for the stranger-danger reaction he'd worried about during the entire flight home.

Instead, his son's face changed. Not the grimace Joe had mistaken for smiles before. Something different. Intentional.

A real smile. Slow and deliberate, like recognition dawning.

"You remember me," Joe said, his voice rougher than expected.

The smile got bigger.

Joe looked toward the bedroom, wanting to wake his wife, wanting her to see this. But it felt private somehow. Just between them. His son's first real smile, and it was for him. After two days away, after all those middle-of-the-night doubts about whether he was doing any of this right.

His son knew him. Had missed him, maybe.

"Yeah, buddy," Joe whispered. "I missed you too."

* * *

1st Laugh

Bath time had become Joe's thing without him planning it. His wife had handed him the baby one evening after a long day and said, "Your turn," and somehow it stuck. He'd gotten good at it—right water temperature, supporting the baby's head with one hand while washing with the other, ignoring the inevitable splashing that soaked his shirt.

Tonight was no different. His son sat in the little bath seat, slapping at the water with both hands, sending droplets across the bathroom tiles. Joe worked quickly—shampoo, rinse, soap, rinse again—while keeping up a steady stream of commentary.

"Alright, buddy, we're almost done," Joe said, reaching for the hooded towel. "Let's get you dried off."

He lifted his son from the bath, wrapped him in the soft towel, and set him down on the changing pad. The baby looked up at him, water still clinging to his dark eyelashes, serious eyes tracking Joe's every movement.

Joe draped the towel over his son's body, covering him completely.

"Where's the baby?" Joe asked, his voice exaggerated. "Where did he go?"

He pulled the towel away with a flourish.

"Peek-a-boo!"

His son's face lit up—eyes wide, mouth dropping open in surprise. Then it happened.

The laugh.

Not a giggle or gurgle, but a full, belly-deep laugh that seemed to come from somewhere much bigger than his tiny body. Loud and pure.

Joe froze, towel still in his hands.

"Did you—" He draped the towel back over his son. "Where's the baby?"

Another pause, then the towel away again.

"Peek-a-boo!"

The laugh came again, even louder. His son's whole body shook with it, arms flailing, legs kicking.

"Babe!" Joe called toward the bedroom. "Come here, you gotta see this!"

Footsteps, then his wife appeared in the doorway, hair in a messy bun, looking curious.

"What's going—"

Joe draped the towel over his son again. "Where's the baby?" He whipped it away. "Peek-a-boo!"

The laugh erupted again, and his wife's face broke into the same ridiculous grin Joe was wearing.

"Oh my god," she said, moving closer. "How long has he been doing that?"

"Just started," Joe said, already covering his son with the towel again. "Watch this."

Another pause, another reveal, another burst of pure joy that filled the bathroom and made both parents laugh just as hard.

* * *

Learning to Sit Up

The practice sessions started by accident. Joe had been trying to get his son to sit up during play time, and it became their routine. Every day after work, they'd spread the soft play mat on the living room floor. Joe would position his son carefully—back straight, legs out front, hands planted for balance—then slowly reduce his support. Hand on the back, then just fingertips, then hovering close but not touching.

The baby would wobble, overcorrect, and topple backward into Joe's waiting hands. Every time.

"Almost," Joe would say, setting him upright again. "You're getting it."

His wife would watch from the couch, sometimes offering encouragement, sometimes just smiling at Joe's patient persistence. Neither was in a rush, but Joe found himself looking forward to these sessions. The way his son's face scrunched in concentration, totally focused on not falling over.

Today felt different. The baby seemed more stable, more confident. Joe went through the usual routine—hands on his sides, then just fingertips, then...

Nothing.

His son sat there, perfectly balanced, for five full seconds. Then ten. Chubby hands resting on his thighs, back straight, looking around the room like he'd been sitting up his whole life.

"Look at that," Joe said quietly, not wanting to break the spell.

His wife's head snapped up from her book. "Is he—"

"Don't move," Joe said, still crouched behind their son, hands ready to catch him. But he didn't fall. He just sat there, proud and steady, reaching for a toy just within his grasp.

When he finally did topple over—gently, sideways into the cushions Joe had arranged—he was grinning. Like he knew exactly what he'd accomplished.

"Did you see that?" Joe asked, though he knew she had. "He just... sat there."

"All by himself," his wife said, and there was something in her voice Joe recognized. Pride, yes. But also the faintest hint of bittersweetness.

Their baby was learning he didn't need them to hold him up anymore.

* * *

"Hey baby, you having fun over here?"

His wife's voice, amused. Joe blinked, realizing he'd been staring at his son for who knows how long. The baby had made it back to the center of action, sitting confidently in the grass while Tee attempted to interest him in a football nearly as big as he was.

She slid up beside him with a matcha latte. "What's going on in your head?"

Joe glanced around the backyard. Sam was deep in conversation with one of the other wives about proper matcha whisking technique. Ja'Marr was filming their son's attempts to gnaw on the football. The "1st Year Down" banner fluttered in the afternoon breeze.

"Just thinking about the year," Joe said. "How much he's changed."

His wife followed his gaze to their son, who had abandoned the football in favor of trying to eat grass. "He really has, hasn't he?"

"Remember when we were scared to leave him alone for five minutes to shower?"

She laughed. "Now look at him."

Their son looked up at the sound of her voice and grinned, one hand still full of grass, before turning back to Tee, who was now lying flat on his back making exaggerated groaning sounds that the baby found hilarious.

"Should we do the cake soon?" his wife asked. "Before he gets too tired and cranky?"

Joe nodded, though part of him wanted to stretch this moment out longer. His teammates scattered across their backyard, his son in the middle of it all, his wife beside him watching it unfold.

"Yeah," he said. "Let's do the cake."

* * *

Six months.

Sweet potato puree on a tiny spoon.

Joe had been optimistic. How hard could it be to get a baby to eat? He'd watched videos, read articles, had the bib ready and camera rolling.

The first spoonful landed on his son's chin. The second on his forehead. The third got batted away by a flailing hand, sending orange puree across the kitchen counter.

"Come on, buddy," Joe coaxed, wiping his son's face for the fourth time. "It's good. Look." He tasted the puree himself, immediately regretting it.

Twenty minutes later, there was sweet potato on the high chair, the floor, Joe's shirt, and somehow on the ceiling. His son had managed to consume maybe two actual bites.

But those two bites—the way his face scrunched up in surprise, then curiosity, then something that might have been approval—made all the mess worth it.

* * *

Eight Months

The living room floor.

Joe had left his son on the play mat, surrounded by toys, perfectly content. He'd gone to the kitchen to refill his coffee. Two minutes, max.

When he came back, the play mat was empty.

"Buddy?" Joe called, scanning the room. A soft thud from behind the couch answered him.

He found his son there, army-crawling with determined precision toward the electrical outlet Joe had forgotten to cover. His technique was terrible—more wiggling than crawling—but he was moving with purpose.

"Oh no," Joe said, scooping him up. "We gotta baby-proof everything."

* * *

Nine months.

Crawling

It happened overnight. One day his son was doing the army crawl, the next he was up on hands and knees, moving across the room like he'd been doing it his whole life.

Joe came home from practice to find his wife in the bathroom doorway, looking slightly frazzled, their son sitting on the floor beside her.

"I found him in here," she said. "I put him down in the living room, went to fold laundry for five minutes, and he was just... gone."

The baby was sitting contentedly next to the bathtub, trying to pull himself up on the edge.

"How did you get in here?" Joe asked, though his son just grinned up at him like he'd accomplished something impressive.

Everything changed after that. Gates went up. Cabinets got locks. Joe learned to scan every room like a defensive coordinator, looking for potential hazards his son might find and destroy.

But watching him move—confident, curious, unstoppable—Joe couldn't help but be proud of the little person his son was becoming.

* * *

"Alright everyone, cake time!" his wife called, emerging from the kitchen with a small round cake covered in orange and black frosting. A single candle shaped like the number one sat in the center, unlit for now.

Joe watched as his teammates gathered around, phones already out, everyone positioning themselves for the inevitable photo op. His son was back in his arms now, having been retrieved from his latest adventure attempting to eat decorative rocks from the garden bed.

"You ready for this, buddy?" Joe asked quietly, settling into one of the chairs they'd arranged in a circle. His son looked up at him, then at the cake his wife was setting on the small table, eyes wide with curiosity.

Ja'Marr was crouched with his phone already recording, grinning in anticipation.

His wife lit the candle, then stepped back. "Okay, everyone sing."

The singing was loud and enthusiastic, if not exactly melodic. Joe found himself grinning as his son looked around at all the faces, clearly overwhelmed but not upset by the attention.

When they got to "Happy birthday, little man," his son clapped his hands together, which sent up a cheer from the entire group.

"Make a wish!" someone called out, though obviously his son had no idea what that meant.

Joe leaned forward, his son on his lap. "Help me blow it out?" he whispered, then blew gently on the candle. The flame flickered and went out, and everyone erupted in cheers.

His wife cut a small piece of cake and placed it on the plastic plate in front of his son. For a moment, he just stared at it, then tentatively poked it with one finger. The frosting stuck to his fingertip, and he brought it to his mouth.

His face lit up.

What followed was less "eating cake" and more "cake destruction." His son grabbed handfuls of the soft vanilla cake, squishing it between his fingers, smearing orange frosting across his cheeks, getting it in his hair. Some of it actually made it into his mouth, but most of it ended up on his custom Bengals jersey, the table, and somehow on Joe's jeans.

"Look at him go," Tee said, taking pictures of the mess.

Joe didn't try to stop it. His son was laughing, completely delighted with the mess he was making, and everyone else was cracking up watching him. Even when a particularly enthusiastic handful of cake went flying and landed on Ja'Marr's pristine white sneakers, he just shook his head and kept filming.

"This is exactly what I expected," his wife said, but she was laughing too, already reaching for the wet wipes.

Joe looked down at his son—cake-covered, orange frosting in his eyebrows, grinning like he'd just discovered the best thing in the world. Not the overwhelming terror of those early days, not the careful protectiveness of learning to be a dad. Just... happiness. Simple, uncomplicated happiness.

This was his life now. Cake-covered mess and teammates in his backyard and his son destroying his birthday cake with pure joy.

Joe looked over at his wife, who was attempting to clean frosting out of their son's hair with a wet wipe.

"So," he said quietly, so only she could hear. "You wanna do this again?"

She paused, looked at their cake-covered son, then at the chaos of their backyard party, then back at Joe.

"Ask me after we get through the terrible twos," she said, but she was smiling.

It was perfect.

[minlighted]

Hey there 💞

So I've had an idea and decided to slide into your requests!

What about idolverse SKZ with a female ninth member reader, and they're looking at how member versions of an album (yk like the accordion or jewel case versions) are sold a lot, but only reader's don't sell well :( how would SKZ react? All of them?

So this would be hurt/comfort, I guess.

Hope you're having a nice weekend 💞

Hi, thank you for the request!

💿 Left Behind

Stray Kids OT8 × 9th Member!Reader (female) 🖤 Angst – Comfort – Found Family 📎 No romance | ±8100 words | Inspired by your idea

You sat on the floor of the practice room, your back against the mirror, your legs drawn up. The laptop on your lap burned like an open wound. You shouldn’t have opened this file. You knew it would sting. But you had to see it, in black and white. Just once. For confirmation.

Sales figures. Per member. Jewel case version.

Chan: 2,012 Felix: 1,734 Hyunjin: 2,403 Lee Know: 1,185 Han: 1,901 Seungmin: 1,412 Jeongin: 1,088 Changbin: 1,320 Y/N: 4

Four. Four orders. In twenty-four hours. And underneath it said: 3,276 in stock. The highest remaining stock of anyone. Your hand trembled on your trackpad. You clicked away the tab as if it could disappear. As if you could make the pain invisible by closing the screen.

You stayed seated. Quiet. In a room where laughter and music had previously been heard, all you could hear now was your breathing. And the ticking of the clock.

The door creaked. You instinctively slid your laptop under a bag.

"Here you are." Minho's voice was low. He looked at you with his head tilted slightly. "Why are you still here?"

You shrugged.

He sat down next to you, his back also against the mirror, legs stretched out. "You don't have to say anything, but… I know something's up."

You swallowed. "It's nothing."

"You're lying."

He said it without judgment. Just an observation.

"You're sad." He looked straight ahead, not at you. "I saw it in your eyes yesterday. And you've been sitting alone on the right side of the dorm table for three weeks. Like you're avoiding something."

You said nothing. Neither did Minho.

After a long silence: "Is this about your version?"

Your body went rigid. That was it.

He sighed. “I saw it, you know. The spreadsheet.”

“Why were you looking…”

“Because I was wondering why you were getting quieter. You’re my teammate. My family.”

His words broke something open inside you. You felt it snap, somewhere under your chest. The silent crack of hope.

“It hurts,” you whispered.

“I know,” he said. “And I think it’s unfair.”

You took a deep breath. It felt like you’d been living on one breath for weeks.

“It feels like no one chooses me,” you said. “I can see it in those numbers. And in the fan signs. Everyone loves you guys. And I… I’m just there. In the background.”

Minho turned his head toward you now. “You’re not a prop.”

“But I feel like one.”

He put his hand on your knee. No words. Just presence. And right when you needed it.

“You know what’s weird?” he asked. “I have your jewel case version at home. Three of them, actually. And I think it’s the prettiest of them all.”

You bit your lip. “You’re lying.”

“I'm not. And Felix has one in his wallet.”

You snorted softly. “That won’t fit at all.”

“He had the mini-mini version printed.”

You laughed a little. It felt strange in your throat, like you were relearning something.

“Let me know if you need space,” Minho said. “Or silence. Or someone being angry for you.”

“You would be mad on my behalf?”

“I’m already mad on your behalf.”

You looked at him. He meant it. It was in his gaze, in the tense line of his jaw.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“Always.”

That night, you lay in bed, but your thoughts wouldn’t let you rest. Every number on the spreadsheet bleeped through your head. Every difference in sales felt like a judgment. Like a voice saying: you don’t belong. You tried to sleep, but your brain whispered: You’re not someone’s bias. You’re not someone’s favorite. You’re optional.

The next morning, you were quiet. Too quiet. Seungmin poured you coffee and glanced up. “Are you having trouble sleeping?”

“I’m fine.”

“Lie number one of the day,” he said dryly.

Jeongin whistled softly. “Ouch. The morning quiz has started.”

Felix walked to the table, his hair messy and a blanket around his shoulders. “Leave her alone. Not everyone needs to wake up with full battery.”

“She’s been acting like everything’s okay for weeks,” Seungmin said. “But her eyes are tired. And her voice too.”

Han looked up from his cereal. “Maybe we should stop guessing and just ask: what do you need?”

You looked up. Eight pairs of eyes on you. You felt yourself grow warm. Not from love. From shame.

“It’s nothing,” you said quickly.

Seungmin raised one eyebrow. “Then you’re lying for the second time today.”

No one pushed you. That was the worst part. They gave you silence. Understanding. But that made it harder.

You stood up.

“Aren’t you eating?” Jeongin asked.

“Not hungry.”

You walked to your room, closed the door and leaned your back against it. Your chest moved quickly. As if you had just run, when in fact you were just running away from something you couldn’t say.

That afternoon you walked past two staff members in the hallway.

“…still high stock. Maybe no more solo version.”

“Or just a different cover. Something with a bit more spice.”

Your feet kept walking, but your heart stayed behind. In pieces. You said nothing. You were nothing. Just air, at that moment. Invisible to the people who were supposed to support you.

You felt it. Something breaking. Quietly. But definitely.

You turned. Walked outside, past security, hood over your head. No message. No note. Just your jewel case — which you put on the table in the lounge, near the coffee machine. For whoever found it.

You walked. You didn’t know where. Only that you had to leave. Just for a moment. To breathe somewhere else. To lose something that no one seemed to see.

The wind was sharp as you stepped outside. You felt it pull through your sleeves, down your neck, into your lungs. Like it wanted to clean up there too. Like it could feel you draining.

You walked without a purpose. The city was noisy, but to you everything sounded dull. Every sound was behind a wall. You crossed a street. Sat down on a bench. You looked down at your shoes. And you waited. For nothing. For everything.

Your phone vibrated. Once. Then twice.

Chris 🐺: hey, where are you?

Chris 🐺: it's okay if you need space, but let me know

You turned your phone upside down. You had no words. Just silence.

In the lounge, Felix found the jewel case first. He was about to get coffee when his eyes fell on the case. He bent down, held it like it was made of glass, and read your name on the side.

He called for Minho.

“It was here,” he said softly. “Just… just like that. No note.”

Minho’s eyes narrowed. “She’s gone.”

“I thought she was in the practice room.”

Han came over. Took the box from Felix’s hand. “This… doesn’t feel right.”

Felix: “Do you think—”

“Don’t think,” Minho said sharply. “Act.”

Changbin stood in the doorway. His face was tight. “Call her.”

“I just texted her,” Chan said. “No response.”

“Let’s split up,” Han said immediately. “I’m going to the park. She goes there sometimes when she wants to think.”

“Studios” Seungmin said. “She feels safer there than at home.”

“The cafe by the canal,” Hyunjin said. “We sometimes draw there—she likes the quiet there.”

Chan nodded. “No one comes back without her. Okay?”

Felix was still holding the jewel case. His fingers were clenched around it as if he didn’t dare let go.

“I’m taking this,” he whispered. “If she wants it back… she has to be here.”

Felix walked around the city looking for you. He had his hoodie on, walking along the edge of a parking lot where no one ever went—unless they really wanted to get away. And there you were. On a curb. Knees up. Arms around you. Eyes focused on nothing.

“Hey,” he said, not too softly, not too sharply.

You didn’t look up.

He sat down next to you.

After a long silence: “You left something behind.”

Your eyes darted to his hand. There was the case. Your jewel case. Slightly damaged on the corner. Like you. Inconspicuous. But visible, if you really looked.

“I just wanted to… disappear,” you whispered.

“I know that.”

“It felt like no one would miss me.”

“I know that too.”

You finally looked at him. His gaze was wet. But he wasn’t crying. He was feeling.

“We need you,” he said. “Not as an artist. As a person.”

Your lip trembled. “But they… they don’t want me. The world doesn’t.”

“Then the world is making a mistake.”

He put the jewel case next to you. “You decide what happens to it. Keep it. Destroy it. Forget it. But we—we keep you. Regardless.”

You took a deep breath. A deep breath. And said nothing. But your hand slowly moved toward the case. You didn’t push it away. You didn’t grab it. But you let it be.

That was enough.

When you walked back with him, the air felt different. Not lighter. But less heavy.

At home, they were all sitting. Silent. Chaotically silent. You heard Jisung jump up from the couch. “There you are.”

You nodded. No words yet. But you looked at everyone. One by one. And that was all they needed.

Chan stood up. “We’ve discussed it.”

You frowned.

Changbin: “We all want to buy your jewel case.”

Your eyes widened.

Hyunjin: “Not symbolically. Real. Physically. One by one. Until they’re sold out.”

You wanted to protest, but Minho raised his hand.

“This isn’t out of pity,” he said. “This is what we do for family.”

You looked down at the case in your hand. And for the first time, it didn’t feel like a failure. But like something real. Something yours. Something worth holding on to.

And you did.

You were sitting on the balcony. The sky was pink and orange. You held the jewel case in your hands as if it were something precious. You looked at it like you never had before — not critically, but just… present. You saw your own eyes on the cover. Your smile. It had been real, then. Even if you couldn’t feel it now.

You heard some commotion inside. You turned your head and saw Jeongin opening boxes in the living room. Felix was helping him. One by one, he pulled out the jewel cases. Your version. Only your version.

“Are you serious?” you asked.

Jeongin grinned. “We got a group discount.”

Chan joined in. “We give them to staff, backup dancers, our parents…”

Seungmin jumped in. “I’ll send one to JYP. For his desk. Let him look at it.”

Everyone laughed.

Minho handed you a stack of markers. “You have some catching up to do.”

You looked at the pile of jewel cases. And for the first time, you didn’t think: no one wants these. You thought: they’re mine. And that’s enough.

That night, you were all sitting in the living room. You on the couch, feet on Felix’s lap. Hyunjin was lying on the floor with a pillow under his head. Jisung was playing softly on his phone. Chan was writing something in his notebook. Changbin looked up every now and then, as if to check if you were still breathing.

You were breathing.

You were still there.

And somewhere, in the silence, you felt it. Not just that they needed you. But that you felt her again — the version of yourself that once shone. Not perfectly. Not without doubts. But really.

The next day, a new order had come in. Someone had bought your version. One copy. Maybe by accident. Maybe out of curiosity. Maybe because they really wanted you.

And that was enough to get you started again.

You opened your phone. You set your alarm for tomorrow's rehearsal. You posted a selfie on Bubble, captioned:

I'm still here. And I'm staying.

Then you looked at the jewel case on your nightstand. You tapped the plastic softly.

"Thank you for staying," you whispered.

And you stayed too.

[hugheswho]

Canvas

Summary: You want to paint a memento to remember your first time at the lake house, but you’re missing a vital piece to complete it. 

Pairing; Luke Hughes x fem!reader

Warnings: language, pet names, fluff

Author’s Note: This is so 2019 of me

Word Count: 1.6k

The summer breeze flutters through the air, dancing with the wind chime on the back porch. Low murmurs of distant boat motors and country music reverberated off the lake. The blades of grass tickle your legs as you shift to wipe your paint brush clean. 

Having started dating Luke at the tail end of last summer when he was already back in Jersey, this was your first time at the lake house almost a year later. The view took your breath away. You felt so connected to nature here. 

Swims in the lake, sunset boat rides, and walks through trails made you feel so connected to the Earth and to Luke. You wanted to detach from the rest of the world and live in this serenity forever. Luke opened up his heart and home for you, and you never wanted to forget that or take it for granted. Looking at social media when you had this view in front of you was out of the question. 

To remember your first of, hopefully, many trips to the lake, you thought of creating some type of keepsake. You didn’t want a generic t-shirt with the lake's name or something from the golf club’s gift shop. It needed to be something unique. Specific to your time spent with Luke looking out at the water. 

That’s why you asked Luke to pick up some paint while he was out running an errand. It was the perfect opportunity to paint a picture of the backyard landscape. Something for you and Luke to cherish forever and reminisce on one of your firsts as a couple. 

While that was a great idea, you soon realized you needed to be much more thorough in your words to Luke. Luke came back with the paint you requested, but no canvas to paint. You can’t blame him entirely, as you didn’t specifically ask for one, but on the other hand, you would think Luke would use his brain and realize there is zero chance he or either of his brothers would own one. Though you couldn’t succeed in your original plan, you quickly found a replacement canvas. 

That’s how Luke has found himself lying shirtless on his stomach in the grass of the backyard. You sit on the upper part of his thighs, just below his butt, with your legs hanging off either side of him. Luke has been letting you paint his back for almost an hour now. You paint a picture then wipe it all away just to start a new one.  

“Why is it so cold?” Luke questions as the paint hits his back. 

“It’s not, your back is just so warm from the sun. I told you to put sunscreen on.”

“I did! I just only put it on once…”

“That’s okay. I’m using red paint anyway so it’ll just blend in perfectly!” You joke as you continue to move the brush, making precise strokes. 

“What a smart girl” Luke praises while turning his neck to look at you. 

“What would you do without me?” You playfully ask, dipping the brush back in. 

“I ask myself that every day,” Luke hums as you turn back from the paint tray. You make eye contact and he winks at you. You reach forward and swipe a dot of the red paint on his nose. His smile turning into a frown. 

“Hey!” 

“Sorry Rudolph, couldn’t resist.”

Luke crinkles his nose at you while you take the rag to wipe the paint off of it. You sit back and admire your work on his strong back. You wouldn’t call yourself a professional by any means, but if the New Jersey Devils ever need a new logo, you’re their girl. The red and black NJ horns and tail stand out against Luke’s part-burnt/part-pale back. His one layer of sunscreen clearly not landing on his entire back.  

“That tickles!” Luke exclaims as you drag the soft cloth against the wide expanse of his back to clean it off. 

“That doesn’t tickle, this does,” you say before caressing his sides with your fingers, making him squirm underneath you. 

“STOP BABE!” Luke says in between laughs while flailing his arms behind him to try to somehow grab your hands but failing miserably. 

Your laughs escape you effortlessly watching him flounder. Luke’s protests sway between groans and his own precious giggles which only makes your amusement grow. You can feel it deep in your belly as you wheeze. Luke’s muscular biceps and his inability to stop you from the tickles are truly quite the sight to see. 

When Luke finally catches his breath, he moans out, “Come on, don’t be mean! I’m being so nice right now being your human canvas!”

“I wouldn’t need a human canvas if someone bought me one at the store,” you quip back, a smirk growing on your lips. 

“Do not start with this again, princess,” Luke grouses while rolling his eyes. “I’ll have you know I’m a great canvas. Any artist would be lucky to have me!” 

You run your hands up his spine and over his shoulder blades and lean down to press a kiss in the middle of his back, feeling him shudder beneath you. “No. You’re a perfect canvas.” 

“Damn right” he exhales out, sounding much more content than he’d like to show. Luke’s hands have now turned to the grass in front of his face. He is pulling out blades in clumps, dumping them, and then going for more. 

“Jack’s gonna beat your ass when he sees you’re ruining the grass,” you say as you dip your brush back into the paint. 

“I can take him. One swift nudge to the forehead and he’s down,” Luke murmurs while bringing his arms up to rest his head. 

You laugh at Luke’s statement, realizing he’s probably not wrong. Luke hums beneath you waiting for you to start your newest masterpiece. As much as you two complained to each other about the canvas miscommunication, he has certainly been a trooper while you scratched your artistic itch. Luke was the one to bring up using his body in the first place. 

Having officially run out of ideas of what to paint, you sit back and think for a few seconds. Resting the brush on the paint tray, you settle your hands on Luke’s lower back and gently rub your thumbs over his back dimples. Luke’s eyes flutter shut as he relishes in the comfort your touch brings. 

“That feels nice” Luke softly says, bringing one of his arms down to stroke against your leg, mimicking the soothing touch you’re giving him. 

“Yeah? I’m glad. This is really nice. Thanks for letting me do this, babe.” You admit before leaning down to kiss his cheek. 

Luke’s hand squeezes your thigh when you pull away from his face, signaling he wants a real kiss. You can’t hide your smile as you go back in to place a smooch on his soft lips. Luke pulls away for a second, only for you to chase after his mouth. You need to remember all of this. Savor the feeling. The surroundings. The taste of Luke. 

You two finally pull away and as Luke looks at you he confesses above a whisper, “I’d do anything for you.”

Your breath catches in your throat and you have to tear your eyes from Luke. You can feel Luke chuckling beneath you, finding your shyness incredibly amusing. The two of you have been exclusive for almost a year and dated for several months before that. However, Luke never fails to make the butterflies erupt in your stomach as they did the very first time you met him. 

You dip the paintbrush into the bright blue color and connect it to Luke’s skin. Immediately wanting to take attention away from the blush creeping on your face, an idea pops into your head. “Can you figure out what I’m painting based on how it feels?”

“Do you think I’m a genius or something? How am I supposed to figure that out?” Luke scoffs. 

Biting your lip, you continue to drag the brush against his sturdy core.

“God Luke, we're supposed to be soulmates! Get it together!” You encourage while laughing, knowing it would be impossible to go off the feeling of the paint. 

“Knowing you it’s probably like ‘I love my girlfriend so much! She is so pretty!’” Luke sighs. 

Your eyes go wide. Brush frozen in place. Your silence does not go unnoticed by Luke. 

“DID I GET IT?” Luke yells while laughing. 

“It actually says ‘She is so pretty AND smart!’ Thank you very much!” You reveal. You shouldn’t be that shocked by how well Luke knows you by now. But c’mon, that was crazy. 

Luke laughs at your admission and wrangles himself underneath you. He’s able to twist himself over so you now straddle his lap instead of backside. His large hands grab either side of your waist, fingers slipping underneath the hem of your top. He flips the two of you so his body is splayed on top of yours. 

“You’re so predictable, miss artiste,” Luke rasps out before dipping his mouth to place kisses on your neck. 

“You realize I’m laying in the paint you just let the grass rub off your body? My shirt is gonna be ruined.” You complain but you don’t really care that much. How could you at this moment in time? You angle your neck so Luke has more access. 

“Guess we’ll have to do tie-dye next time.” 

Your mouth drops open, letting out a loud laugh at his comment. Luke’s kisses find their way up your jaw and to your open mouth, connecting the two of you together. You kiss him back eagerly, arms coming up to cross behind his neck. 

The two of you separate, Luke hovering only inches above your face. Warmth bubbles in your belly staring into his eyes. Your favorite place to be. 

“I love you.”

The most beautiful smile appears on Luke’s face. “Not as much as I love you,” he breathes out before leaning back down to capture your lips. 

[concreteangel92]

I have a idea for a dom!noah, the reader is already dating him and went meet him pre show, and she is ovulating so anything about him is turning her on: his arms,back muscles, his tattoos, his voice, his smell, and just by looking at her face he knows it and play with it, but she needs to wait until the show ends and they go to a hotel. With praise kink, ownership kink, cock/body worship, breed kink well, anything else that you want, feel free to write however you want including or not this things

Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Warnings: Dom!Noah, PiV, smut, slight oral (female receiving) breeding kink, ownership kink, praise kink, dom/sub relationship, I’m pretty certain thats it but let me know if I’ve missed anything!

I love me a bit of dom!Noah, he will always be my favourite! I hope you enjoy this and sorry for the wait 🖤

Permanent Taglist: @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @lacy1986 @fadingangelwisp @theanarchymuse95 @w0manof-flesh44 @dream-machine-love @thisbicc @amelia-acero @badomensls @fadingintothegrey @tosoundlessdarkistare @ichoosetenderomens @hurricanesfollowyou @concretejunglefm @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @xmads-omensx @chey-h @xxkittenkissesxx @lyschko666 @rumoured-whispers @renegadebirch @floodflameschosen @ami--gami @koskeepsake @cheyyyyr @pipidoll @spookieolson @punkprincess1999

Let me know if you wish to be added!

Masterlist

You’d gone to see Noah before he went out on stage. Big mistake.

Just the sight of him in his outfit, mask ready in hand, that one glove. Everything about him was a turn on for you in that moment and he knew it.

You didn’t miss the sly smirk on his face as he looked you up and down when he’s caught you staring again.

“You ok?”

You nodded but you knew he didn’t believe you, he knew your body better than you did sometimes.

Noah pulled his mask over his face and pulled you into a firm but quick kiss.

“Enjoy the show baby, I’ll be counting down the hours until I get you alone in that hotel room tonight”

And with that, he walked to side of the stage with a cheeky glint in his eyes as he prepared to go on. And you were left standing to watch side stage.

You swear that Noah made sure he was ‘extra feral’ during this performance, his growls were deeper, he’s moves were more calculated, he stalked the stage like a predator looking for his pray and making sure to catch your eye while doing it. All of which left you practically drooling while clenching your thighs together.

After the show, he didn’t hang around at the venue and got you both back to the hotel as quickly as he could.

And now Noah was carrying you across the room, dropping you onto the mattress like you weighed nothing. He stood at the edge, his eyes devoured you, your flushed cheeks, parted lips, the need in your eyes that had been building all fucking night.

He stripped off his tank top in one motion, the black fabric hitting the floor with a soft thud.

Your mouth went dry.

His tattoos moved with every breath. His arms. His back. His abs. His fucking veins, even seeing his chain swinging, it was too much. You moaned just looking at him while your legs instinctively squeezed together.

Noah’s hand gripped onto your thigh and gently pushed your dress back so it fell against your hips.

“Ah, ah, ah, angel. Keep those open, show me how wet you got just from watching me perform tonight”

You obeyed, instantly spreading your thighs, showing him your soaked underwear which his gaze ate up.

He groaned. “Fuck. Is that all for me?”

One hand trailed down your body before he dragged your panties down and tossed them aside and then he knelt between your legs.

And stared.

“Look at this pussy” he whispered, more to himself than to you, his eyes never faltering. “So wet for me, its like your were made just for me”

You whined at his words, thighs twitching in anticipation.

He didn’t even touch, just breathed against you, watching the way you pulsed and clenched for him.

Then he licked a slow stripe from base to clit, groaning low in his throat like you were his favourite fucking meal and he had been rationed.

“Oh god…Noah…”

“Say it” he growled. “Say who this pussy belongs to”

“You…It’s yours, all yours…”

“That’s right” He kissed your inner thigh, then the other. “Every inch of you. You’re all mine baby, mine to ruin as I please”

He moved up your body, slipping your dress off as he went, he kissed your neck, your chest, sucked a mark right beneath your collarbone, before finally pulling his trousers down just enough, freeing his cock.

Your breath caught again.

He was hard and heavy and already dripping for you.

He lined himself up and pressed just the tip against your soaked entrance, he didn’t push in, not yet.

“You’ve been aching for this, haven’t you?”

“Yes….please…”

“I can feel it. Your body’s just begging to be bred”

Your whole body jolted at the word. He smiled darkly as he stroked your hair off your face.

“You want me to fill you up angel? Stuff this pretty pussy and make you mine in every way?”

You were beyond words now, just moans, nods and desperate whines as you tried to lift your hips to meet his in need.

And then he thrust in all at once.

You cried out, clenching around him instantly as he bottomed out, his cock pressing deep inside. He hissed against your neck, one hand gripping your hip, the other sliding under your thigh to angle you exactly how he wanted.

“So fucking tight!” he groaned low in his chest.

And then he started to move, deep, punishing thrusts that rocked the bed. Every slap of skin echoed through the room, every moan swallowed by his mouth as he kissed you hard.

“You’re gonna come for me and then I’m gonna fill you up, I want you to feel me dripping out of you for days”

You were so close after being wound up for so long, you felt the sinful twisting in your stomach, your whole body was clenching and every nerve felt alive under his words.

“You ready to be mine?” his hips started to jerk out of his usual rhythm, signaling he was about to finish as well. “Always my good fucking girl”

“Yes, yes, I’m yours…I’m….”

Your words got caught in your throat as you felt yourself come undone and you were falling apart beneath him, body shaking as he held you through it. And only then, did he let himself go, groaning as he emptied himself inside you, holding so deep you could feel every pulse and twitch of him.

Noah collapsed into you, breathing hard, lips brushing your shoulder as he rode out his own high. He then kissed your cheek so lovingly as he pushed himself back up onto his forearms.

“You’re mine, always.”

You leant up and kissed him lazily as you both relaxed into each other’s hold, he made no effort to pull out and stayed exactly as he was.

You could feel how your hips and thighs would ache in the morning, you knew there’d be bruises littering your body. And you wanted every one of them.

[moviecritc]

✦ ˚ : · PHOTOBOOTH · : ˚ ✦

pairing ☆ batsis!reader x roy harper

word count ☆ 1.9K

summary ☆ after roy arrives late to your birthday party, he lets you put some make up and take some pics in the photobooth, just the two of you

warnings ☆ fluff, they are idiots, kissing

a/n ☆ I LOVE ROY SO MUCH lowkey my favourite character (with wally) and the one i read more comics

main masterlist | letterboxd

You were never the kind of person who liked parties. Your father always found a way to drag you to galas and events that were good for the family’s public image. But spending hours in heels and a tight dress was exasperating.

This time was different.

It wasn’t just a party. It was your party. Your birthday, which you'd refused to celebrate for years, either out of laziness or because no one had the time, not even you. But this time was different. Dick had come up with the idea, and with a lot of help from Alfred, they’d finally convinced you to do it.

You and Stephanie spent hours picking the perfect theme, which ended up being the most cliché thing you could imagine: a Euphoria-themed party. You convinced Damian to design the invitations, and you mailed them out yourself to all your friends, both superheroes and civilians. Though you didn’t really have many of the latter.

By the time the day came, you’d spent a week sleeping little and talking too much. You were so excited you hadn’t stopped moving all day, going over the final details with a mix of nervous energy and pure adrenaline. Alfred had banned you from entering the kitchen after your third attempt to “help” with the desserts.

You just wanted everything to go well. You wanted everyone to have fun. For one night, even in the chaos that was your life—everyone’s life—you wanted to dance, laugh, sweat through your makeup, and scream lyrics at the top of your lungs like the world wasn’t ending every other Tuesday.

Everything was almost ready.

Purple and blue lights lit up the rooftop, the cocktails shimmered like magical potions on the makeshift bar, and someone, probably Tim, had managed to set up a giant screen projecting psychedelic visuals to an endless Labrinth remix.

Of course, it was all a little chaotic.

You hadn’t seen Cass in over an hour, and you could swear Jason had taken the dress code very seriously, he even had glitter in his teeth. Damian was sulking in a corner, refusing to take off his black jacket even though everyone else was covered in gems. Barbara was managing the music volume from her tablet like it was a covert mission, and you had to rescue Duke from a group of models no one knew who had invited, but who were clearly vibing with the party.

Bruce had hired someone to do your makeup exactly how you wanted, and although you wished he’d stayed, he chose to give you the night to enjoy yourself without worrying about his judgmental stare.

You and Dick spent half an hour picking your outfits, mostly because he insisted on matching and you absolutely refused. You ended up choosing a glittery, flowy dress that looked suspiciously like his glittery pants. You didn’t really mind.

The music was good, the atmosphere lively, and no one seemed to be having a bad time. You’d talked to everyone, and as the songs passed and the champagne glasses emptied, you realized someone was missing.

You scanned the room again: Dick, Wally, and Donna were dancing together; Kon was trying to convince Tim to join in and Roy… Roy was nowhere.

You frowned, running your fingers around the rim of your glass, the ice halfway melted. You’d invited him personally. You’d written it on the back of his invitation in silver marker: “If you don’t show up I’m kicking you out of the group chat. Love ya.” You weren’t sure how close you really were, but whenever you were with Jason, Roy was there too. And eventually, you two had grown close.

You turned just as the door opened.

And there he was.

Roy Harper.

Not a single speck of glitter. No eyeliner. Not even a shiny shirt.

Just his usual red jacket, dark jeans, and a vibe that screamed “I’m late but I have a good excuse.” You gave him a once-over, raising an eyebrow as you made your way through the crowd toward him.

“You’re late. And in civilian clothes,” you said the moment you reached him, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Roy scratched the back of his neck, half-guilty. You could tell he was nervous.

“I stood in front of my closet for an hour, nothing felt cool enough for you. Does that count?”

“No. Doesn’t count.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but you grabbed his wrist before he could say anything and pulled him through the crowd, heading straight for your makeshift “aesthetic emergency kit.”

“Come on. You can’t show up to a Euphoria-themed party dressed like you’re going on patrol.”

Roy let you drag him along, laughing softly. You led him to a quieter room in the mansion, where the music was muffled and none of your brothers were around.

“And what exactly are you going to do to me?”

“Give you an aesthetic redemption.”

You pulled out a small clear box and opened it with the reverence of unveiling a sacred relic. Inside were little stick-on gems, some shaped like stars, others like moons, all with adhesive backs.

“You’re going to put makeup on me?” he asked with a crooked smile, but no hint of teasing.

“Just a little. Glitter on your cheeks. You’re going to be the prettiest boy at the party.”

You picked out a pair of silver ones, the kind that made his green eyes pop, and stepped closer. Roy leaned down slightly to give you a better angle.

And then, without warning, the mood shifted.

Maybe it was the way he held your gaze, or how close his lips were to your fingertips. Maybe it was the music dipping at the perfect moment, or the way your fingers brushed against his skin for just a beat too long.

Because as you pressed the first gem to his cheek, you felt the tension in his face, the way he held his breath like he was keeping something in. And you froze a little too, your heart thudding against your ribs.

Roy didn’t look away. He didn’t even blink.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured, barely audible. It wasn’t a flirty comment, it was a confession. A truth that slipped out before he could stop it.

You met his eyes for a second that lasted way too long.

“Don’t move,” you whispered, trying to sound calm, but your voice cracked just a bit at the end.

Your fingers moved slower now as you placed the second gem, on the other cheek this time. You took your time. Because you didn’t want the moment to end. Because you were finally feeling all the things Roy had been holding back for weeks, the long looks, the half-written texts, the heavy silence. Roy always had something to say. Except with you.

He closed his eyes as you finished.

“All done?” he asked, not opening them.

“All done. And ridiculously handsome.”

He opened his eyes again and said nothing. But his pupils had dilated. You stepped back a bit, swallowing, and then smiled. You needed to break the tension, as fast as possible.

“Come with me.”

“Where to?” he asked, even as you grabbed his wrist again.

“The photobooth,” you said like it was obvious.

You’d asked Bruce for it specifically, like it was some childhood trauma. All night Damian had been collecting the photo strips to give them to you in the morning as a keepsake. You’d taken pictures with everyone, even Jason, who’d insisted he wasn’t photogenic. But with all the rhinestones on his face, he’d looked dazzling. Totally stole your thunder.

You didn’t let go of Roy’s wrist until you were both squeezed into the little photobooth, pulling the purple curtain closed. Somehow, everything in this party had sequins.

“How does this thing turn on...?” you muttered, crouching to check the corner of the machine. It smelled like old cotton candy and warm wires.

Roy leaned in next to you, his arm brushing yours, one knee between your boots and the bench. You felt the rough fabric of his jacket against your bare arm, and your whole body tensed.

“How much have you had to drink?” he asked in a low voice, so close his breath grazed your neck.

You turned slightly to look at him, and suddenly you were way too close.

“Enough to forget how a button works, but not enough to miss how close you are,” you said, not moving an inch.

Roy smiled, but didn’t move either.

“Does it bother you?” he asked, voice rougher now.

“No,” you whispered. “Just noticing.”

He leaned in a bit more and pressed one of the side buttons with a firm finger. The screen flickered to life with an electronic click.

“There it is,” he said, almost a sigh.

“So helpful,” you teased, trying to breathe normally as you both sat back. Your thigh brushed his. Your shoulder touched his arm. There was no space. Literally. And you didn’t want there to be.

The countdown on the screen started blinking.

“Quick, show off your sparkles,” you said, throwing an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close.

Roy let you, though you felt him stiffen for a second, surprised. But then he relaxed. Smiled. His cheek brushed yours as he looked into the lens, and you realized your heart was going way too fast for a photo session.

The first photo: you laughing, him watching you from the corner of his eye.

The second: you stuck out your tongue, he raised a brow, still looking at you.

The third: you turned to face him again, suddenly very aware of the proximity.

The seconds between the third and fourth photo felt eternal. His hand brushed your thigh by accident as he shifted, and you didn’t move away. You tensed around his shoulders, leaning in closer.

You turned your head. So did he.

And you kissed him.

It was clumsy. You tasted like champagne and licorice, he like cigarettes and something citrusy you couldn’t place. Roy froze for a second. Then kissed you back. His hand moved to your waist. Your fingers tangled in the collar of his jacket.

The fourth photo captured the kiss.

The machine whirred, spitting out the photo strip while the two of you stayed pressed together, everything melting into the fact that you’d finally let the tension snap.

When you pulled away, Roy didn’t say anything.

Neither did you.

“That was cool,” Roy said eventually. “I mean, good. Like, better than I expected. Not that I thought you’d be bad at it! I think you kiss amazing, by the way. Soft lips and stuff. But—”

You shut him up with another kiss, gentler this time, your teeth bumping from laughter.

You looked at him with a raised eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across your lips.

“Are you nervous?”

Roy let out a dry laugh and looked away, but didn’t deny it.

“God,” you murmured, amused. “Didn’t know that was even possible.”

“Don’t make it weird,” he muttered, though he didn’t sound mad. There was something soft in the way he shrugged, in how he still hadn’t quite looked away from you.

“I’m not making it weird,” you said, shaking your head. “You’re making it easy. This is the first time you’ve shut up for more than ten seconds.”

Roy snorted, but smiled. You reached up to touch his cheek.

“Wanna dance?” you asked with a teasing smile, blinking dramatically.

You expected him to say no, give you some lame excuse.

“Sure,”

He took your hand and led you back to the dance floor, leaving the photo strip behind. Damian would pick it up later.

[sunarinio]

the kittens next door

tetsurou kuroo x reader

word count: 1065

the neighbour that you dislike brings in kittens

you kind of disliked your neighbour. it wasn’t that he was rude or anything, if anything he would smile at you every time the two of you came across each other. a smile that you only returned weakly. because you just wouldn’t have it. he had taken over your crush’s home.

it was silly really, your crush - your college classmate, used to live in the space across from yours. he had been kicked out by his landlord for “bringing too many people over.” he was a college student, for christ’s sake.

so the next person who took over was kuroo tetsurou, a working man who was three years older as per your flatmate’s intel. sure, he was hotter but you missed your crush. gone were the days of small talk in the hallway of your apartment building.

kuroo tetsurou (office worker, 24) was convinced that the cute uni student next door hated him. what he had done, he wasn’t sure but the lack of response whenever he tried to greet you made it quite obvious. he shouldn’t care really but not being liked by a stranger for no reason was unsettling.

however there were more pressing matters at hand. he parked his car in the basement and opened the backseat door, pulling out a small cage. tiny mewls could be heard from it and kuroo let out a sigh at what he had gotten himself into.

he took the cage upstairs, unlocking his apartment with one hand and placing the cage on the living room floor. he quickly changed into comfortable clothes and sat down on the floor in front of the cage. prying it open, he looked inside. three tiny pairs of eyes stared back at him.

two hours later, you opened the door to your apartment, looked around the hallway and closed it again. this was the third time you had done it this evening. where the hell was that damn meowing coming from?

you loved cats. the prospect of a cat hanging out in the hallway of your apartment building excited you. you were so sure it was there and then you would open the door and - nothing.

it was the fifth time that you opened the door when you finally realised it. the sound was coming from your crush kuroo tetsurou’s apartment. your body moved on its own and you rang the bell. you had no idea what you were going to say.

kuroo opened the door and peeked out. his eyes widened in surprise. he flashed a small smile. “good evening, how can i help you?”

you hesitated, “umm this may sound weird but…any cats in there?”

“oh yeah, um,” kuroo opened the door wider for you to peek in and spot the three kittens on the living room floor. you immediately cooed and looked at kuroo with slightly pleading eyes, “can i…?”

kuroo chuckled and let you in, “of course”

you immediately beelined towards the kittens and kneeled down on the floor. “you keeping all three?” you asked.

“i’m keeping none. i’m only looking after them for a few days till my friend finds them a permanent home.” kuroo explained.

you pouted at that. cute, kuroo thought. “you like them?”

“i love them,” you lightly brushed your finger against the black kitten’s head as it approached you curiously.

“take them then”

you deadpanned him, “do i look financially stable enough?”

he chuckled, “fair enough.” he took a seat on the couch as he watched you. the kitten had now climbed into your lap and you were trying to usher the other two closer.

“i could help you with the food and everything. you don’t have to pay for it. just keep them,” kuroo suggested.

“you hate ‘em or something?”

kuroo smirked, raising his hands in surrender. “i love them but that’s a lot of responsibility. i’m gonna have to work from home for the first few days and then come back home every lunch break for a month at least till they find someone to take them in. having you in on this would make it a lot easier on me. and i know you only have classes for the first half of the day”

“you know an awful lot about me,” you narrowed your eyes.

“hey, it’s not my issue that your roomie talks to me and you don’t”

you just hummed and held the black kitten to your chest while the orange one tried climbing onto you.

“so what do you say?” kuroo asked.

you took a moment before turning back and extending a hand towards him, “deal”

kuroo chuckled and took it, shaking it firmly. “i’m a dog person anyway”

you scowled. “i hate you even more now,” you blurted before you could stop yourself.

kuroo raised an eyebrow. “you…hate me?”

“i didn’t mean that”

kuroo poked your shoulder, “c’mon, tell me about it”

you groan, “okay fine…my crush used to live here before you moved in.”

kuroo let out a teasing “ooh~”

“shut up…” you blushed, forcing your attention back to the kittens.

“y’know the apartment was full of roaches before i moved in?”

you grew flustered, “that’s just how boys live!”

“i wasn’t like that in uni”

“he was a nice guy!”

“if you say so”

you huffed, turning to face him while holding up a kitten. “he’s being mean..” you mumbled to it.

kuroo laughed, taking it from your hands and placing it on his thigh. he pet it gently before looking back up at you, “so you in this 100%?”

you nod, “financial part on you though”

“no worries,” he handed the kitten back to you before grabbing the bag of kitten food and toys that he got from his friend.

the two of you took the kittens and their sparse belongings to your apartment. after making sure they weren’t in the line of fire of any dangerous object, you left to see kuroo off.

“take good care of them, alright? i’ll come over every evening,” he leaned against the doorway of his apartment as you leaned against yours.

you nod, “me or my flatmate would be here.”

kuroo nodded and turned to shut the door. he looked back at you one last time.

“oh and y/n? you can still have a crush next door. i don’t mind,” he winked before closing the door in your reddened face.

[yeoslattes]

Starf☆cker

Genre: smut, strangers to lovers

Pairings: tattoo artist/rockstar!Seonghwa x fem!reader

WC: 6.5k

Summary: who knew you could make a usually scary looking dude show his soft side

Warnings: dom!Hwa x sub!reader, tattooed Seonghwa (that should be a warning on its own), degrading words (just slut a couple times), dirty talking, slight manhandling, oral fem receiving, fingering, choking, praising, doggy, slight overstimulation, creampie, mild cumplay, unprotected sex, make outs

A/N: so here’s a fic that’s been collecting dust in my drafts for about 2 months now 😅 I havent been in a good headspace to write even tho my hands have been itching to come up with something but there haven’t been any good ideas. I decided to revisit this fic and tweaked it up a bit, enough to make it good to post hope yall enjoy ☺️

» [StarFucker- Ginger Taylor] « “He sets my face on fire always, I try to fan it out”

☆ ☆ ☆

The bell above the parlor chimes, the sound twinkling through the small shop. Your nose twitches at the strong smell of alcohol mixed with faint incense. The front desk is vacant, in fact anyone would have thought the parlor was closed if it wasn’t for the neon open sign hanging from the window. A wave of anxiety washes over you, immediately you suck in a deep breath trying to calm your raging nerves. Maybe I should just go home, you fight the voices in your head telling you it’s best if you just went home and put off this tattoo for a little longer; you’d been waiting for months now, what was a little longer?

Just as you’re about to make the decision to leave, a man emerges from the back room, taking his place behind the counter. His raven colored hair is gelled back, though a few strands have fallen forward over his eyes. He wears a distressed knitted sweater that sticks to his slender frame. You aren’t able to see much of his skin but you can tell he’s tatted up by the way some of the ink peeks through the holes on his sleeves. His presence feels heavy, suffocating even– your skin crawls under his intense gaze and all you wanna do is shrivel up into dust and float away.

“How can I help you?” His voice is syrupy and smooth, yet laced with a hint of gruffness.

Seonghwa studies you. You definitely looked out of place in his shop, your colorful clothing contrasting the black paint and artwork displayed on the walls.

“Um…” You squeak.

Oh this would be interesting, Seonghwa thinks, he leans forward, resting his forearms on the counter, eyes heavy set on you. He finds the way you fiddle with your hands adorable until you finally swallow thickly and follow with– “Seonghwa right?”

He nods.

“Your shop was recommended to me by Wooyoung?” You say, though it comes out more as a question. Seonghwa lets out an airy laugh and nods.

“Ah yes, Wooyoung.” He wonders how you and Wooyoung even knew each other as he was certain you and the guy had completely different interests.

Finally feeling comfortable enough, you decide to stop beating around the bush and approach the glass counter where you place your phone displaying a beautiful piece of artwork.

“I want to get a sternum tattoo, something along the lines of this.” Seonghwa studies the art piece and shakes his head.

“I’m sorry but I can’t do any artwork that is not my own.”

“I-I– well of course not, but you can draw right? This is just mere inspiration, the piece can be whatever you can come up with.” You bite your lip, hoping that this guy can make your vision come to life, and doesn’t see you as a stupid girl who wears Barbie doll pink clothing and has no place in this grungy world.

You were a pretty girl and if Seonghwa could have someone as beautiful as you display his artwork, shit he’d tattoo every square inch of your body if you asked him to.

“Okay,” He nods, rubbing his temple, “it will take me a while. If you want to start today you can come back in a couple hours.”

You shake your head, no.

“It’s okay there’s no rush, I can come back tomorrow if you have an opening.”

Seonghwa opens his appointment book, running his fingers down the page.

“I have a ten to twelve slot open. Wanna stop by then?” He meets your eyes and he swears he sees them sparkle.

Excitement bubbles in you and you can’t help the smile that breaks on your face,

“Yes, that works– thank you so much!”

He blabbers on about a down payment and the total for the piece though you can barely concentrate when he looks this attractive. In the end you place your deposit and leave the shop feeling rather content.

When the door closes behind you, Seonghwa notices how dull the place suddenly looked without you in it. He shakes his head and rubs his eyes, his exhaustion clearly catching up to him. Never had he looked forward to tattooing someone more than he had now. So much so, he’d stopped working on one of his other client’s designs to get started on yours. He opened his Ipad, immediately getting to work. With you in mind, the vision for this sternum tattoo came easy to him. Something dainty and fragile that held a lot of who you were as a person in it– or at least what he perceived you as. He was done in 2 hours flat, he messaged you as soon as he’d transferred the design to physical paper.

Hwa: It’s done, please arrive 15 minutes before your appointment, thank you and see you soon.

Dollie: Thank you so much Hwa! Can’t wait to see it, thanks again! :)

He smiles at the text, catching himself immediately.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” His voice resonates in the empty shop. This session would be the longest hours of his life.

***

Another gig done, Seonghwa couldn’t feel any more on top of the world. Life seemed to be going good recently and he was thankful for that. People cheered for him as he came off stage, immediately he made a beeline for the VIP booth that the club always reserved for him and his group plus a couple of girls that always hung around them.

“Heard you met my girl today.” Wooyoung says, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he plops down next to his bandmate.

Seonghwa nods, “I didn’t know you were friends with a Pilates Princess.”

Wooyoung shoots him a questioning look,

“Dude c’mon now, the way she dresses? In all pink and shit, she looks like she’s about to hit her 8am pilates class. It’s kinda cute though.” He mutters the last part, taking a swig from his beer bottle.

Wooyoung laughs, finally understanding what Seonghwa was referring to.

“That’s just her, I’ve known her since middle school. She’s always been like that, loves her bright colors. She’s a real sweetheart– be gentle with her.” Seonghwa scoffs, louder than he needs to.

“No promises, I tattoo her tomorrow, I’m scared that if I press too hard she’ll crack.”

“Alright now, she’s a tough girl, she can take it. Trust me.” Wooyoung cheekily winks at Seonghwa, whose eyebrows shoot up in shock.

“What is that supposed to mean? Have you and her…”

Wooyoung shakes his head rapidly,

“No no, JellyBelly is like a sister to me. I mean more so as in she’s a tough girl, she’s been through things, get your head out of the gutter.” Wooyoung teases, smacking his shoulder.

Seonghwa nods at this new information Wooyoung gives him. Deciding it wasn’t his place to ask any more questions he diverts the topic to the show they’d played tonight. Though you reside in the back of his mind.

***

You had barely slept out of pure excitement, you took a full shower, really preparing for this new tattoo.

“I won't be able to scrub as hard once I get it done.” You had told yourself. You decided against tight clothing, settling for some loose sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, ditching your bra.

The bell above the door jingles and almost immediately Seonghwa is at the front desk. He was so excited to see you again, though it had only been a day. You looked relaxed today, the white shirt with pink sweats combo making you stand out once more.

“Hi Seonghwa!”

“Hey good to see you! I thought you would’ve had a change of heart.” A light flush coats your cheeks at his teasing words. He hands you a clipboard and a pen, suddenly you feel overwhelmed at the insane amount of text on the form.

“Fill this out for me and I’ll take your ID for a copy.” Pulling out the plastic card, you hand it to him. He leaves you alone as he disappears towards the printer at the back of the shop. Meanwhile, you fly through the paperwork sliding the clipboard towards him when he reappears.

“Alright, follow me to the back.” You sheepishly trail after him.

There, on the counter is a white sheet, you almost gasp when you see the full design. Fine lines stem from the center of what would essentially be tattooed between your breasts, swirling together to create a bunch of stems interlaced with a variety of dainty flowers decorating the ends. Intricate leaves branch out, all of which would be covering the area under your breasts.

“Oh my god, Seonghwa!” You gasp getting closer to the sheet, “this is beautiful.”

You turn to look at him and he wears a proud smile, it makes him look different? He usually wore this persona of being a tough guy who was in a band, tattooed as one of his jobs and was deemed scary, but in this moment he was anything but that.

“I'm so glad you liked it, it's definitely a delicate piece, perfect for a girl like you.” You can’t help the heat rushing to your cheeks. Suddenly the room feels hot and you fan yourself, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by Seonghwa.

“Ready to get started?”

He begins to set up his station, while you set your stuff down and pull your hair up. You hop on the chair, reclining back.

“Um…” Seonghwa awkwardly coughs, when you turn to look at him he stares at you expectantly. Then you realize you still had your shirt on,

You stay oddly silent, a wave of embarrassment rolling up your body.

“I’m not wearing a bra.” You mutter.

“Uh, I can tape something over you to cover your…” he trails off motioning to his own chest. When you don’t say anything he continues, “or you can stay bare, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before but I want you to be comfortable.”

You contemplate for a second, before pulling your top off.

Seonghwa watches as you fold the shirt on your lap, eyes shooting up to meet yours. You lean back into the cushion, chest out and ready for him. You questioned where you got this confident boost from, still you remain calm swallowing thickly at how heavy his presence felt.

Seonghwa doesn’t say anything, he scoots his stool under him and takes a seat.

You stare at the ceiling boards, focused on the feeling of the plastic razor run over your skin. His fingers lather you in the stencil transfer gel, he lays the thin sheet over your skin letting it rest for a minute until he peels it back.

The squeaking of his wheely stool fills the room followed by light metallic taps on his tray, finally you hear him take a deep breath.

“Okay, you ready?” He asks and all you can do is nod.

The first touch is electrifying, you laugh at yourself in your head. How touch starved were you? That the feeling of your tattoo artist leaning his hand against your skin is enough to wake something up in you. The pressure is constant as he drags the needle over the fine lines. Your skin is on fire by the time he's halfway done with lining.

“Do you need a break?” His voice brings you back to reality.

“Uh no,” your throat is hoarse.

“Maybe when you’re done lining, I’ll take a water break.” You say, in a soft voice.

“Okay let me know if you need anything.”

With that he resumes the line work, by the time he finishes your left underboob you really start to feel the pain.

Seonghwa is focused on not fucking up the lines, yet you make that hard when he feels intoxicated by your scent. You smelled so sweet and fresh, and your skin so supple and warm under his hand despite the barrier of his gloves. He presses particularly hard over one area and you whimper. The sound shoots straight down to his cock. He pulls back and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, you were really doing a number on him. Just a few more lines. He reminded himself.

After a full hour the line work is complete. You go to stand up but he stops you.

“Please be gentle with yourself and stand up slowly, there’s no way you don’t feel faint in the head after all of that.” You nod and slowly rise, reaching for your pink water bottle. You sip on some water, watching Seonghwa disappear into the back closet and come out with a bag of jelly beans.

“Have some, they’ll keep your blood sugar up so you don’t pass out on me.” You take the bag and immediately pop some in your mouth.

“I love jelly beans.” You mumble, and the tattoo artist laughs.

“Is that why your nickname is JellyBelly?” You almost choked on the sweets melting in your mouth, how’d he know that? Then you realized, Wooyoung.

“Only Wooyoung calls me that,” you pout, feeling betrayed that your friend had given up your nickname like that.

“It’s okay, it’s cute.” Seonghwa says, reorganizing his station. Your cheeks flare up and you fan yourself out. Something he had taken notice of that you did any time he made you blush.

***

After another long hour of shading the piece was done. When you looked in the mirror you couldn’t stifle the gasp that ripped through you. It was exactly what you had envisioned, it was delicate, intricate, it was beautiful. After Seonghwa cleaned it and wrapped it you couldn’t help but give him a hug, one he sheepishly returned.

“Sorry, I don’t know if you like hugs or not, but this was worth one. I can see why Wooyoung trusts you.”

He shrugs it off,

“Thank you, for trusting me.”

Just as he finishes the payment transaction and you’re about to walk through the door, he stops you.

“Do you wanna come by Precious Club tomorrow night? I’ll be playing with the band.” The invite comes with little to no thought, even Seonghwa shocks himself. His heart pounds in his chest as he watches your pretty face contort into a smile.

“Yes of course!” He relaxes when you accept his invite, you wave him one final goodbye. His eyes trained on you as he watched you leave through the glass windows.

He buries his head in his hands, confused at how giddy he’d been feeling since you'd walk through the damn door. Never had he ever acted this way towards one of his clients. He got pretty girls coming in to get tattooed by him in masses, yet no one ever stuck out to him. Sure he’d had a couple of hook ups with a few of his clients here and there but never did he crave such a slow burn feeling more than now. He wanted to take his time with you, get to know you, really find out who you were, he wanted to work for it.

No amount of disinfectant could get rid of your scent that still lingered in the shop even after hours. It reminded Seonghwa of how close he’d been to you, your warmth, even the small whimpers you’d let out whenever he’d go over a specific area.

“Fuck.” He breathed out, squeezing the poor cleaner bottle in his hand. Deciding enough was enough, he finished cleaning and locked up the parlor; ready to kick back and smoke a joint while he probably rubbed one out to the thought of you.

***

“Wooyoung.” You whined, throwing a tantrum on your carpeted floor.

“What, what!” Your best friend exclaimed resting on your bed scrolling through his phone.

“What do I wear? You know best you’re in the band with the guy.” You remind him, he’s too focused on his phone to answer right away.

“Wooyoung!” He finally brings his attention to you, dropping his phone on your bed.

“Jeez JellyBelly,” He stands up walking over to your closet. He stands there for a second before turning to you.

“Yeah you’re cooked, none of this matches the vibes.”

You groan and throw yourself back on your floor.

“Why are you stressing? Seonghwa would want you to just dress like you normally do. If you show up in a grungy outfit, it’ll be obvious that that’s just not who you are.”

His words echo in your brain. He did have a point, but you didn’t want to be looked at sideways at a renowned rock club.

“It’ll be fine JellyBelly,” he reassures patting your head,

“I have to go though, tech starts in half an hour. I’m excited for you to be there. I can’t believe it took another guy asking you to come for you to attend one of my shows.” He feigns hurt.

“I love you Woo.” Is all you can say, and that genuinely pulls a laugh out of him.

He sees himself out and you are left to come up with this outfit all alone. After a couple of rounds of mix and matching you settled for the color scheme of black and pink. You figured it was the perfect mix of Seonghwa’s favorite color and yours.

The pair of black flared jeans wrap around your hips and thighs beautifully, you top them off with a baby tee reading ‘Star Fucker’ in pink glittery letters, was it a bold move? Yes. Did you care? Not at all– if anything, it’d be a fun conversation starter. Your makeup is soft like always, your hair pulled back into two messy braids with strands framing your face.

The commute to the club is a rather long one. Settling on the fact that you wanted to drink, you decided to leave your car home and take the bus, only the ride was 45 minutes too long.

The club peeks into view and immediately your heart pounds, the line is out the door and wrapping around the building. Never in a million years did you think Wooyoung’s band was this famous but here you were. The line consisted of mostly girls with a few guys thrown in here and there.

The bus drops you off at the stop halfway up the block, as you walk towards the back of the line you can’t help but feel the gazes of the girls in line burning through you. It was a mix of judgemental and admirable looks, some would even smile at you if you made eye contact with them. As soon as the doors opened the line begins moving rather quickly.

“20 dollars at the door, cash only!” The bouncer yells, the girl in front of you pays quickly and now you’re face to face with the big man.

“I-i don’t have cash, but I know the members.” The bouncer scoffs,

“You know how many times I’ve heard that story? Silly girl. Next-”

“No wait, I'm serious, im frien-” You’re cut off by a man with an earpiece coming out, he leans into the bouncer's ear, telling him something.

“Well I guess today is your lucky day. Come on in.”

The girls behind you mutter in confusion. You step into the dark club, already the air is filled with smoke. The lights hazy through the thick clouds in the room. People are lined up in the pit securing their spots, given your short stature you head for the small balcony where you manage to stand against the railing looking down at the stage and crowd. Minutes tick by agonizingly slow, you even went down to the bar to get a drink. You rest against the barricade sipping on your amaretto sour until you finish it, getting another one right as the show is about to start.

“I don’t see her anywhere.” Seonghwa mutters, peeking through a crack in the black curtains. Wooyoung taps him and points up.

Seonghwa feels his heart race when he spots you, he smiles and retreats back into the dark backstage area.

“What the fuck is wrong with me man?” He mutters. Wooyoung looks at his friend with a concerned look, never had he seen his bandmate so distressed, not even his first break up had him looking like this.

“I like her. I like her a lot, I don’t think I’ve ever been this much into someone till now.” He sighs rubbing his face with his palm.

Wooyoung suddenly feels proud, “what can I say I’m a matchmaker.”

Seonghwa sends him a playful glare.

“Shut up, you did not send her to me because you’re a matchmaker.”

Wooyoung shrugs, “well not necessarily but she wanted a tattoo– you’re looking for someone, she’s looking for someone. It worked out.”

Seonghwa is about to reply with a smart comment but the lights going out and the roar of the crowd bring him back to reality. It was show time.

The set starts off strong with a crowd favorite. You watched in awe at how good Seonghwa was on stage. Occasionally you’d jump at the sudden boom of the base shaking through you. Rock was not something you’d ever listen to in your own time but it wasn’t bad to listen to in a moment like this one; besides you were supporting your friends.

For two songs straight it’s like you were in a trance, the way Seonghwa moved and sang, basically pouring his soul out into the stage was so captivating. The heat of the stage lights broke him out into a pool of sweat making him look like an angel glowing in the darkness. He looked absolutely breathtaking and you felt yourself falling for him more and more as the set went on.

“How’s everyone feeling tonight?” His voice is loud and raspy into the mic, sending a wave down to your core.

“We are Prestige Academy, thank you all for coming tonight.” Seonghwa is panting, taking sips of his water to refresh his raw throat.

“Alright now, this next song means a lot to me, a lot to us as a group. This is ‘What You Do to Me’, make some noise if you’ve ever been in fuckin’ love, lets go.”

Your heart flutters as the pounding of the drums fills the room once more. You listen intently at the lyrics, it was definitely a song about yearning for someone. You watch with a smile; the song slows down for the bridge. You watch intently, feeling the energy in the room shift when you see him reach a hand up towards the balcony. His hair sticks to his face, sweat fully pouring off him now, his eyeliner is smudged around his eyes adding to the darkness swirling in them. Still, you can clearly see his eyes are locked on you. Your stomach swirls, something deep in you burning for him like never before, you needed him.

Every word muttered into the mic regains new meaning for Seonghwa, you’d come into his life like an unexpected storm and instead of questioning his feelings, in this very moment he finally accepted them. You feel your cheeks heat up, bringing a hand up to cool yourself down. There it is, Seonghwa thinks, the sole indicator of what he did to you.

He pulls away from the mic for the guitar break.

After an almost 1 and a half hour set, the show was over. Some fans left while others lingered around the backstage entrance, hoping to at least get an interaction. You take a seat down at the bar this time, hoping to see two familiar faces coming from the back soon. It's not long when high pitched squeals fill the room, you are able to see Seonghwa walking through the crowd followed by Wooyoung and the other bandmates.

Waving a few hellos, you notice when he spots you, right away making a beeline for your spot on the bar.

“Hey!” He greets with a smile and you stand up to hug him. He gently wraps his arms around you. You give Wooyoung a hug as well.

“You guys did amazing!” Seonghwa takes in your outfit, chuckling to himself when he reads your shirt. Wooyoung disappears off to what you assumed was VIP so you are left with Seonghwa. As soon as you meet his eyes he motions to his chest.

“What’s that about?” Your cheeks redden when you realize what he's talking about. You shrug trying to play it cool.

“Do you like it?” You ask, he can’t help but nod. You in this dark club that plays music that you surely don’t listen to, just for him; it was perfect.

“You’re perfectly out of place.” He whispers in your ear. You feel so small under his intense gaze, never had you had someone break you down this easily.

Seonghwa’s mind swirled with different thoughts, he wanted to get you alone and just talk each other's ears off about anything. You watch him hesitate a bit as he searches the VIP area until he catches Wooyoung’s gaze. He motions something to him and grabs your hand, stringing you along somewhere, though you don't ask where, you were just happy you were with him.

Now you sit face to face at a small family owned Mexican restaurant across the street from the club.

“So are you in school?” He asks, mouth full of a steak taco. You giggle and nod.

“Yeah, I get my medical assistant certification at the end of this month. Then I might do nursing. I’m not too sure yet.”

Seonghwa nods, rather impressed at what you did outside of this little bubble he’d put you in. He was intrigued, he needed to know more.

“Are you in school?” You return the question.

There's an awkward pause at your question, til he lets out a loud chuckle. When he sees your confused expression he contains himself.

“Oh you’re being serious.” He hums and shakes his head, “nah, I decided to become a full time tattoo artist and do music on the side. Surprisingly I make enough money to sustain myself.”

You chat like you’d know the guy for ages. The more he learns about you the deeper he falls, you are so perfect in his eyes. There was no question about where he wanted to take this, he was certain he wanted you as his; to put a label on this. He could only hope you felt the same. He’d fallen fast and that scared him.

He pulls up to the side of your apartment, immediately he steps out rounding the car and pulling your door open. You step out, sheepishly walking towards your front door.

“Thank you so much for tonight. I needed a good distraction.”

He gasps, faking offense, “so I'm a distraction?” Immediately you shake your head. “Of course not!”

He smiles at your frustration and you playfully shove him.

“You know what I mean Seonghwa.” There’s a comfortable pause.

He shuffles a bit on his feet, looking adorably awkward. Your eyes meet his and slowly you lean in for a kiss. Typically you never kissed on the first date but this, this felt so right, he felt so right. He lets your plump lips touch his, without second thought he pulls you in. The kiss escalating fast. He suddenly pulls away leaving you wanting more.

“Not tonight baby.” He whispers, resting his forehead against yours. You whimper at the feeling of what you want most being ripped away.

“I wanna do this right. Okay?” He asks, looking down at you with the most loving eyes, and so you nod. You unlock your door and he lets you go with a kiss to your cheek.

***

The dates with Seonghwa didn’t end there, he’d taken you on a total of five dates, asking you to make it official on the fifth one. He spoiled you greatly, treating you like an absolute princess. You’d never experienced such great love and care in a relationship until now.

You quickly learned he was a hardworking guy, he’d stay up for hours working on new tattoo pieces, or writing lyrics for a new song. He burned himself out often and you always tried to contribute to his well being. You were more than happy to be that breath of fresh air that got his mind off everything when he needed it.

Tonight was one of those nights. You told him to come over, that it was okay if he stayed over. You heard him hesitate over the phone, but you reassured him that it’d be okay. Only after hanging up the call did you feel a wave of nervousness. What if we end up having sex? You’d never gone past kissing, but you were sure he’d never put you in an uncomfortable position. You cleaned your apartment, sweeping and mopping under every crevice you could think of, by the time you were done your apartment was spotless. With very little time to spare you showered and dressed in the cutest pajama set.

As if manifested by thought, Seonghwa was knocking at your door. He came in looking sweaty, eyeliner smudged and hair disheveled. He’d just come back from a show which explained the large duffel in his hand.

“Hey baby.” He greeted, pressing a kiss to your lips. You wrapped yourself around him and he relaxed in your hold breathing in your comforting scent.

“Bathroom is free for whatever you need okay?” You tell him, knowing he was raging for a shower.

“I’m being so honest, I think I'll be skipping dinner tonight. I am so tired.” He mumbles going in for another hug. You gladly wrap your arms around him again.

“That's okay baby.”

Seonghwa melts under the hot stream of water, he couldn’t believe he was in your shower at this very moment. Remember what he’d said about life going well these days? Well now it was going great. He stepped out of the shower, dried off and dressed in some basketball shorts and a wife beater. He brushed his hair back in the mirror, letting the wet strands dry towards the back of his head.

When he walks into your room, you feel your breath get lodged in your throat. With his tattoos on full display you were feasting on his exposed skin. You traced each one with your eyes, even making note of those that you hadn't even seen before. They were absolutely breathtaking. He hops into bed with you, laying so you're face to face. He brings one hand up to brush your hair out of your face, then he runs it down to grip your dainty hand in his. You watch as the small butterflies tattooed in his hands stretch and condense as he flexes his hand.

You swallow thickly, feeling a fire burning deep in your core.

“Seonghwa.” You whisper. He hums gently.

“What is it baby/”

He can see your mild hesitation before you open your lips.

“I just want you to make me yours…fully.” His heart flutters at the softness in your words, you were so perfect, so malleable. He wanted to break you into nothing, show you his love in its entirety; because that's what you deserved.

He doesn't speak a word, instead he cups your cheek and pulls you towards him, he lifts his head to slot his lips against yours. Without missing a beat you adjust yourself to lay on your back while he hovers over you. His hands though very careful feel rough on your skin as he freely explores, touching and feeling what he hadn’t before.

“Are you okay?” He asks, pulling away for a second.

“Yes Hwa please, touch me, don't hold back.” You burned for him, you needed him. He sighs, god what were you doing to him?

“I don't wanna break you.” He mumbles peppering kisses along your jaw.

“What if I want you to?” That was all the confirmation he needed.

He dived into your neck, leaving small splotches here and there, working his way down till he reached the waistband of your shorts. He pulls them off in a smooth movie, leaving you in nothing but your sleeping top and panties. On your own accord you pull the tank top off leaving you bare to his eyes.

When he sees the almost healed tattoo on your chest he swears he almost cums on sight. Seonghwa feasts his eyes on your tits, hand immediately groping and toying with your hard buds. You arch into his touch to which he leans down and brings one of your breasts to his mouth. He suckles and twirls his tongue around while you writhe underneath him. He wastes no time in pulling your panties off while also stripping himself down to his boxers. He lays down on his belly to reach the heat between your thighs. He gropes your supple skin under his hands, leaving pink fingerprints all over.

“Seonghwa please.” You whine, hips bucking towards his mouth.

“Stay still.” He smacks the side of your thigh, pulling a whimper out of you but making you lay as still as possible for him. In the act of pressing your eyes closed you feel him before you see him. His mouth dives into your sopping core. Lips encircling around your clit as he worked you towards what you wanted most. Your mouth drops open, hands fighting to find purchase on something, anything.

“f-fuck .”

Your legs threatened to close, but Seonghwa wrapped his arms around your thighs pulling you open and keeping you there.

He feats like a man starved, you were the sweetest thing he’d ever had, he was addicted to your taste. His tongue prods at your hole before running backup to your sensitive nub.

“Hwa- fingers pleas-e.” He chuckles at your request.

He suddenly stops getting on his knees and looming over you. One hand reaches between your thighs while the other runs up to rest against your throat. He stays there for a moment, you give him a reassuring nod, your own hand encircling around his wrist to pull him tighter against your throat.

He takes two of his long digits running them up and down your cunt before pushing in, hand around your throat tightening. Your whines fill the room as he pumps his digits. He pulls them out, rubbing the pad of his fingers on your clit. Back and forth, back and forth; tears pool in your eyes, hips uncontrollably bucking.

Between his fingers and his grip on your throat, you were getting overwhelmed fast. Your high was barrelling towards you with no stopping. You arch your back hips sinking further into his fingers and before you knew it he had you cumming. Your thighs tremble around his arm, brain fuzzy and out of touch with what had happened. You suck in deep breaths trying to recollect yourself.

“Are you ready for more?” You hear him ask, though faint you nod. He gently taps your cheek, when you open your eyes the room looks fuzzy.

“Words baby.”

“Yes Hwa more please.”

“There you are baby. Did that feel good?” You nod. “Yeah? Had to prep you for me doll,”

“Desperate little slut. Look at you asking for more.” You clench around nothing at the nickname.

He leans down to kiss you , you feel him moving his arms, when he pulls away his cock is free from its confines, his slender hand is wrapped around it as he preps for you. With one hand holding himself up and the other holding his cock he lines himself, eyes watching where you two would soon be joined. Just before he pushes in he looks at you.

“Please Seonghwa.” You croak.

He gently moves his hips, his fat tip splitting you open around his girth. You wince at the stretch despite his prep. When he finally bottoms out you watch his face contort into one of pleasure. He closes his eyes, lips between his teeth and brows drawn together.

“So fucking good baby.” He finds rhythm pounding into your wet cunt. He groans at the way your walls enclose and throb around him. His pace isnt forgiving, the more he moves, the further he fucks you open. You’re on cloud 9, you pull him down, pressing your lips against his. His hand interlace with yours and suddenly he's pinning you to the bed as you spread your legs further for him.

“Look at you baby, taking me so fucking well. Who knew huh?” He says looking at you speaking with pure fervor.

“Who knew the goody two shoes girlie was such a slut for dick.” He feels you clench hard around him.

“Am I fucking you dumb baby? You can’t even reply to me.”

“h-hwa .” Is all you can squeak out.

He quickly pulls out, flipping you on your belly. He’s taken aback when he sees a huge tattoo piece decorating your upper back.

“You’re just full of surprises huh?” He mutters, hand running over the ink on your back. He sinks back into you, hands coming to wrap the braids you sported around his inked hands.

“Oh fuck.” You moaned, back arching heavily as he pulled you. With each snap of his hips the globes of your ass would smack back on him. Heavy pants and moans filled the room, Seonghwa slowed down when he felt himself getting closer. He rested against you, your arms giving out under yourself making you land flat on your bed with your ass up. Seonghwa drags his hips slowly, the tip of his cock reaching depths you hadn't felt before. An inked hand slithers its way around you to find your clit. As soon as he finds the hypersensitive bud, he rubs. Hips pistoning into you again. Slowly but surely he brings you to the edge until you fall over. Your walls clamp down on him as you throb and squirm all over from the stimulation. He holds you down in his arms till you've come down.

All you can do is whimper from sensitivity as he pulls out. He helps you on your back again.

“Can you handle a bit more baby?” He asks and all you can do is nod. He slides home once again. This time he sets a decent pace, not too brutal, not too slow. As he moves he drinks you in with his eyes, from the swell of your breasts, to the fresh tattoo done by none other than him, and the way your pretty face contorted in pleasure suddenly he was finishing. He pants loudly, hips coming flush against yours.

“Take it pretty girl, take it.” He groans, head thrown back, eyes pressed shut.

Your legs wrap around his waist as he bent you open. Once he leaves his load in you he pulls out slowly, watching the way your pussy still pulsed in the aftermath. Globs of cum trickled out running down and coating your ass. With gentle fingers he scoops it back up and stuffs it into your hole. Eyes focused on the task at hand. You whimper at the sensitivity.

Seonghwa drops next to you, eyes watching for any sign of discomfort. He grabs your hand pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

“My perfect girl.” He whispers.

You felt spent, he’d taken everything out of you, yet given you so much more. You feel your boyfriend snuggle into you. Skin to skin, the warmth of your bodies mingling together. Finally satisfied, you succumb to a deep slumber.

[whitecompri]

May I request fluff of Rouge playing matchmaker with Shadow and fem!hedgehog reader? She knows they have a thing for each other (with reader it's obvious Shadow tries to act like he doesn't but he doesn't) so she tries to set them up (maybe Sonic gets in on the hijinks idk)

Operation: Overlove

Pairing: Shadow x Fem!Hedgehog!Reader

Genre: Romance, light comedy, Fluff

Rating: T (Teen)

Warnings: Minor injuries

A/N: Thank you for the request! I admit that this time I may have gotten a little too excited to write this fic. The idea was really cool and I loved building the whole story around it. I hope you like it too!

--*--

The hot midday sun was already high in the sky. The HQ corridors were bustling due to the lunch hour, with sounds of conversations, laughter, and heavy footsteps from the agents filling the air.

You walked calmly, dodging the humans in your path, holding your quills close to avoid accidentally pricking someone as you tried to squeeze through the hallway.

You picked up the sound of light wings flapping, your ears twitching in the direction of the noise. Your face followed, and your eyes focused on the bat, who was slowly gliding just behind you.

"Easy for you... flying over the crowd," you muttered with a quiet huff, dodging yet another group of humans who probably hadn’t even noticed you.

"Oh, darling, I do have my advantages... But if you’d like, I can lend you a hand," she said smoothly.

"It’s fine... maybe next time..."

"Well, next time, wait for me at lunch... So eager to see him you can’t even wait five minutes for your friend."

Immediately after hearing her words, your cheeks flushed deeply under your fur, your face heating up.

"I-it’s not like that! I was j-just hungry!" your tone came out more desperate than you wanted to admit.

"Hey, hey... I was just teasing, girl..." Rouge giggled. You sighed, exasperated, not liking at all how your brain reacted every time the black hedgehog was mentioned.

Slowly opening the cafeteria door, your eager eyes scanned the place—every table, every seat, every familiar face—but there was no sign of what you were looking for. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder, making your quills bristle and causing you to jump in surprise.

Your startled gaze turned to the side, only to be met with Rouge’s smug grin.

"Sorry, darling, I don’t look like a black hedgehog. My bad," she laughed, pushing the door fully open and pulling you inside. "Well, his absence isn’t a reason to skip lunch. Come on, you need to eat something." She grabbed your forearm, leading you to pick up a tray.

Your movements while getting food were almost robotic—your mind was far from there.

Slowly, you followed Rouge to a more isolated, empty table, sitting timidly to start your meal.

Your gaze lifted a bit, focusing on the bat again. She had her elbow resting on the table, one eyebrow raised, and a smirk on her face as she stared at you.

"W-what’s the problem?"

"Why don’t you just confess to him already?"

"I have nothing to confess..." Despite your words, your eyes shifted away from Rouge, suddenly very interested in the wall beside you.

"It’s obvious, little hedgehog... you’ve got something for him, don’t you?" Rouge’s voice was soft as she crossed her arms.

"Rouge... he... he doesn’t see me that way..." your voice came out almost like a whisper.

"Hmm..." Rouge murmured low, analyzing you closely.

Then, her gaze shifted to behind you, and the smirk returned. In that moment, you instinctively knew who it was, making your fur stand on end and your stomach drop.

You didn’t even need to look back—a tray was suddenly placed beside yours on the table, followed by the black-furred figure sitting down and sighing.

"...You came to lunch early today," he observed, not lifting his eyes from his tray.

"Oh yeah, let’s say [Y/N] here couldn’t wait to see something." Rouge teased, winking at you, making your face flush deeply again.

"Something?..." Shadow’s red eyes locked onto Rouge as he asked curiously.

"Yes, yes. Want me to describe this something for you? Let’s see, he’s kinda short..." She started counting on her fingers, beginning to describe, but didn’t get far.

"R-Rouge... Didn’t you say the commander had a mission for you?" you said quickly, hating how desperate your voice sounded.

The bat blinked once, then twice at you, realizing how embarrassed you were, and gave you a tender smile.

"True... Let’s see, where to start..." Rouge’s eyes discreetly focused on Shadow, noticing the confusion and a bit of curiosity in his expression. He quickly masked it, subtly shaking his head and grabbing a spoon to eat.

And for several long minutes of lunch, the mood remained the same—a slow, almost timid conversation between you and Rouge, while Shadow stayed silent, eyes on his food.

"You know... we could all go out together someday, right?" Rouge suggested softly, seeing your eyes widen at the idea.

"Depends on the place..." Shadow said quietly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Relax, handsome, we’ll find a nice spot. What do you say?" She looked at you hopefully. Shadow also glanced at you, making you nervous. The intensity of his gaze made your heart race.

Suddenly, you stood from the chair, surprising them both.

"Sounds great... Let’s plan it sometime..." you said, but you didn’t look at either of them, quickly grabbing your tray and leaving, unable to stay without feeling like your heart would burst.

The bat observed you, carrying your tray. Then, her gaze focused on Shadow—his body subtly turned, crimson eyes following your every movement as you walked away. Rouge noticed when he clenched his own arm but quickly relaxed the grip, letting out a quiet "hmph" and looking back at her.

Shadow noticed Rouge staring at him and raised an eyebrow.

"What?" his voice was low, and if it weren’t for the constant noise of the cafeteria, Rouge could swear it cracked a little.

"Nothing, nothing... Well, I’m heading out too. See you around, Shadow." She got up, picked up her tray, and started walking the same path you had taken.

She placed her tray in the right spot, still watching Shadow from the corner of her eye, seeing how silent he was—arms crossed and eyes closed.

"Two blockheads with a mutual crush, huh? Sounds like a job for me..." she whispered to herself with a smirk. "Time to start Operation: Overlove."

--*--

Your gloved hands flipped through a book rhythmically, but even though your eyes scanned the words, none of it made sense. Your mind couldn’t form ideas or sentences from the pages.

Closing the book with a thud, you tossed it to the side of the mattress as your body curled slightly, turning inward.

Suddenly, your ears twitched toward the sound of soft static from your wrist communicator.

"Rouge to [Y/N], do you copy?" the bat’s voice came through the static.

"Copy. Go ahead," you lifted your arm, speaking close to your wrist where the communicator was.

"The Commander just gave us a new mission. I already gathered Shadow and Omega. Can you come to the office?"

Your eyes widened. The thought of going on another mission with Shadow already made you break into a cold sweat—afraid of messing everything up, of doing something wrong and making him angry.

But in the end, it was all just work, and you couldn’t refuse.

"Understood... I’m on my way." With a push from your legs, you sat up in bed, took a deep breath, and stood, getting ready to head to the office.

--*--

The office door creaked open, revealing your figure. You took a hesitant step inside, scanning the surroundings, not seeing anyone at first—though you could already hear muffled voices from the meeting room.

Letting out a quiet sigh, you did a few small hops, as if warming up.

"Alright... I got this, it’ll be fine..." After your self-motivation, you followed the sound of voices down the hall. From afar, you could see the meeting room door open. Swallowing hard, you stopped at the doorway, scanning the room.

The first thing your eyes focused on was the red stripe on his quills—Shadow was sitting with his back to the door. On the opposite side of the table, Rouge was relaxed in her chair, casually reapplying her lipstick. Behind her, Omega stood still.

When she saw you, Rouge broke into a wide smile, putting her makeup down on the table.

"Look who’s here... Right on time. Our little star—just missing you." At her words, the black hedgehog suddenly froze in place, not even seeming to breathe. He didn’t look at you—he just stayed still.

"...Sorry I’m late... I took a bit to prep my gear..." you gave a timid smile, tapping your belt pouch to show you were mission-ready.

"No problem, dear, take a seat—there’s a spot next to Shadow." She winked quickly at you, making you blush on the spot.

With slow steps, you walked over to his side, pulling out the chair to sit down, your hands resting timidly on your thighs.

"Everyone’s here, now I’ll go over the mission..." Her tone turned more serious. "The Commander received an important tip from our informants. It seems there’s a well-known wanted criminal staying at a hotel in Station Square..."

Your eyes widened at her first words about the mission.

"He’s a cunning wild boar Mobian... being cautious won’t be enough. If he even suspects he’s being followed or anything like that, it could ruin the mission and spell failure for us..."

"Get to the point..." Shadow said quietly.

"...We’ll have to use disguises," she said with a sly grin. Shadow simply raised his hand to his forehead, rubbing his temple.

"Is this serious?" you asked, already feeling a little insecure.

"Mhm, orders from the Commander. He asked for two agents in the rear and two undercover in the field, gathering information on the criminal and preparing to confront and arrest him." She gestured with her hands as she spoke.

"And what kind of disguises?" you asked, but instantly regretted it upon seeing Rouge’s mischievous expression.

"Honeymoon couple," she said naturally, chuckling softly.

Beside you, Shadow’s eyes widened, his breath catching for a second.

"You’ve got to be kidding..." you murmured. "This is a joke, right?" you said, indignant.

"Want to ask the Commander yourself?" the bat crossed her arms.

"No... Fine... I guess you and Shadow can go undercover, I’ll stay in the rear with Omega..." you averted your eyes.

"Sweetheart, no, no, I’m not the one going in disguise." Rouge giggled.

"But how come?" you raised an eyebrow, trying to control the nervousness and anxiety rising in your voice.

"Girl... There are plenty of reasons. First..." She started counting on her fingers. "I can fly—I can provide aerial support for you and step in if needed..." She raised another finger. "And you two are both hedgehogs. I’m sure a hedgehog couple looks far more convincing."

You swallowed hard, not knowing how to respond, feeling quite cornered but with a strange sense of anticipation for this mission.

"Shadow... What do you think?" Rouge turned to him.

For a moment, your stomach dropped again. He’d probably refuse. Shadow wasn’t the type of guy to accept this kind of thing, so there was no reason to expect...

"Sounds good." At his words, your eyes couldn’t help but widen, and your jaw dropped—Shadow had accepted, just like that.

"Great, handsome. I’ll add a feminine touch to the clothes you two will wear. How about you go grab a coffee while I prep everything?" Rouge said excitedly, clapping her hands and crossing her legs in her chair.

Nodding, the two of you stood up and silently walked out the door.

Rouge watched closely as you walked away. When she heard voices in the break room, she turned to Omega.

"Omega, our Operation has just begun... Your mission will be to ensure by all means that nothing external interferes with our success. Our success rate must be 100%."

The robot stepped forward.

"Mission assigned. Objective confirmed. 100% success required. I will ensure no external factor acts as an obstacle."

"Perfect, you’re a sweetheart. Let’s go—we’ve got some fancy clothes to organize." She jumped out of the chair, giving a few pats to Omega’s metal plates before walking down the hallway toward the closet.

--*--

You focused on your own reflection in the hot coffee inside the cup, your hands securely wrapped around the porcelain piece. Sighing, you looked at Shadow as he took a sip of his espresso.

"...I usually prefer coffee beans... but this one’s not bad at all," he commented in his raspy voice.

"You’re right... Rouge’s new coffee machine works miracles, huh?" You smiled at him, feeling uneasy. "Shadow... about this mission..." You gathered some courage and began to speak.

"Yes?" He waited for you to continue.

"I hope things don’t get weird between us." You scratched your neck. For a second, you thought you saw his expression soften, but then he started talking.

"Never... This is strictly professional. No need to worry."

"Good..." You looked away a bit, hating how nervous and lost you always felt talking to him.

Before any other word could be exchanged, heavy footsteps and the sound of wings flapping echoed in the hallway.

"There you are! My two favorite Agents!" Rouge appeared, accompanied by Omega, carrying boxes of clothes that were placed on the table. You and Shadow stepped closer to get a better look.

"So these are our disguises then..." You held up a dazzling dress that looked expensive. "They seem a bit... too fancy for disguises, don’t you think?"

"The more convincing, the better!" the bat laughed. "Get dressed and get ready—we’re starting the mission tonight. I’ll show you where the hotel is. The Commander already reserved the room—three nights, with breakfast, lunch, and dinner included. You got lucky." You chuckled softly at her words.

"Really, it all seems so fancy... But if it’s for the success of the mission, then I’ll go along with it..." You looked softly at Shadow. You both nodded at the idea and began sorting through the clothes.

"Omega, why don’t you help Shadow—use your best fashion protocols. I’ll accompany our dear [Y/N]." Rouge gave you a few pats on the back, already pulling you out of the break room and hurrying you toward the office’s women’s changing room.

--*--

You looked at your reflection in the mirror, your ears flat against your head as you sighed.

"Rouge... this one doesn’t look good, don’t you have another dress?"

"Darling... that’s the third one, and they all looked great on you." She scratched her chin, placing one hand on her hip, observing the fabric carefully.

"I don’t know... I feel like none of them suit me..."

"I know you want to look as pretty as possible for Shadow..." the bat laughed, shaking her head.

"That’s not it..." You hugged your own arm, averting your gaze.

"How about... this one..." Rouge turned around, digging through the pile of clothes and picking up a long black dress with red details.

Immediately, your eyes lit up at the style of the dress. No words were needed for Rouge to realize you liked it.

"Hmmm... So the idea of matching with him excites you, huh?" She laughed, tossing the dress to you. "Put it on—I’ve got the perfect pair of shoes for you."

Nodding, you began putting on the outfit, already anxious to see Shadow’s reaction.

--*--

The black hedgehog slowly spun in front of the mirror, observing his outfit. The dark black suit fit snugly. He adjusted the front of the blazer, fixing his tie.

"Omega... Fashion sensors..." His red eyes focused on the robot.

"Based on my analysis of current fashion trends, you look like a successful lawyer..." Omega said, taking a deliberate step forward.

"...Not the answer I was expecting, but it’ll do..." Shadow straightened the black gloves he’d put on, being careful with the Inhibitor Rings. The steps from his black-brown boots echoed as he walked.

"Vital signs appear to be accelerating suddenly. Should I activate emergency mode?" The robot scanned Shadow, declaring.

"That must be a sensor error..." the hedgehog replied gruffly, annoyed, brushing his hand over the suit to smooth out the wrinkles. "I have to admit... Rouge has some fine clothes. They even seem like they were made for me..."

"Origin of the clothes: inconclusive. Classified information," Omega stated.

"...Classified, huh?" Shadow raised an eyebrow. "Who assigned this mission to Rouge?"

"Mission delegated by Commander Abraham Towers... Further information is classified."

"I figured she’d be hiding something... Curious mission. I’ve never heard of a criminal lying low for days at a luxury hotel in a big city without getting arrested immediately..." Shadow’s eyes focused on Omega, suspicious.

"...True origin of mission classified… time remaining, and success margin dwindling. Necessary to proceed immediately." Omega extended his hands, beginning to push Shadow by the shoulders out of the room.

The hedgehog stumbled a little but followed the path back to the break room, even though he had more questions than answers.

--*--

He leaned against the break room counter, arms crossed, ears twitching slightly. His eyes focused on the small window overlooking the city and the orange sky of late afternoon.

Suddenly, footsteps were heard. He subtly turned his head to observe, seeing Rouge enter first, a smug little smile on her muzzle. Then, right after, Shadow felt his breath hitch when he saw you come in.

The black and red dress, which matched the color of his quills so well, made his eyes focus on you intently.

“She’s all ready, Shadow. You can start acting like the lovey-dovey couple now. I’ll take you two to the hotel—I bet you’ll ace this mission!” Rouge said excitedly, throwing an arm around your shoulder and pushing you toward Shadow.

The hedgehog’s expression remained impassive, arms crossed, rigid posture as he leaned against the counter.

“...Right... We’d better go soon, we don’t want to lose sight of the criminal...” he said quietly and hoarsely.

Your face was burning hot, and you quickly looked away, focusing timidly on the floor.

“You’re right, we better go... We can’t delay solving this...”

--*--

Behind some taller vegetation next to the hotel, you observed the luxurious entrance. Rich and famous people came and went constantly.

Swallowing hard, you stepped back a little, looking at your team.

“Well, are you two ready?” Rouge said cheerfully, seeing you and Shadow nod. “Great... but just so you know, you might not find the criminal today. Today is just for you two to get adapted and kick off the mission.” The bat explained.

“Alright, I guess we can go, then...” You turned and began walking alone.

“Hold it right there, missy!” Rouge called out. “Wanna ruin the plan before it even starts?” She walked up to you, grabbing your arm and pulling you back.

“W-what?”

She dragged you to Shadow’s side, then abruptly grabbed his arm too, pulling and intertwining your arms, bringing you very close together.

“Remember, you two are a couple! Act like it!” She said with her hands on her hips, watching your blushing face and wide eyes with amusement, while Shadow remained impassive.

“...Rouge is right... it’s part of the plan. Let’s go...” He gently pulled you along by the intertwined arm, starting to walk toward the entrance.

“Good luck to you both. If you need anything, you know the channel I’m on. And remember—room 230, don’t forget.” She said at last, turning to Omega. “Come with me, we need to find a good spot above the lobby to watch this.”

“Understood. Activating action mode for Operation: Overlove,” the robot said deeply, starting to follow Rouge with heavy steps.

--*--

Your steps were almost in sync. Shadow walked patiently by your side, your arms still linked. He kept his pace slow to match yours as you walked through the grand hotel lobby.

“...Keep an eye out for the suspect... let me know if you spot anyone suspicious...” He leaned down slightly to whisper in your ear, making your quills bristle.

“Y-yeah... I’ll let you know if I see anything,” you stammered, swallowing hard, continuing the path toward the hotel reception and stopping in front of the counter.

The human receptionist looked at the two of you with a sweet smile.

“Good evening, welcome to the Confort Hotel. How can I help you?”

“We have a reservation here...” Shadow said, his voice coming out softer. You looked at him curiously, trying to keep a confident posture despite feeling like you were about to faint from nervousness.

“What name is the reservation under?” She glanced at the monitor in front of her.

The hedgehog looked at you, confused. You shrugged, also not knowing what name it was under. Sighing, Shadow decided to try the most likely option.

“Shadow the Hedgehog...”

“Perfect, room 230...” She turned, grabbing a keycard and placing it on the counter. Shadow reached out, almost on tiptoes, to grab the card and turned around.

“Thank you...” he said quietly.

“Have a lovely honeymoon!” the receptionist said cheerfully, waving her hand. You and Shadow nodded softly. You smiled, even though your palms were starting to sweat excessively.

Above the lobby, sharp eyes were watching the scene closely, a feminine giggle echoing in the nearly empty upper floor.

Rouge raised her wrist and spoke into the communicator.

“You’re doing so well... Wow, Oscar-worthy performance, Shadow...” She laughed.

Static crackled through both your communicators just as you entered the elevator.

“...Rouge...” Shadow said with a sigh, closing his eyes. “I hope the room you picked is at least good...” he muttered.

“Don’t worry, it accommodates both of you perfectly. You’re going to love it. Rouge out.” She turned off the communicator, leaving the two of you dumbfounded, staring at your wrists in surprise.

“Should we be worried?” you asked him.

“...Not for now. If the room’s bad, we’ll deal with her later.” He crossed his arms.

--*--

The two of you stood frozen, eyes wide in disbelief at the interior of the room. In the center, a huge double bed occupied almost the entire space. There was no other bed in sight, only a couch that didn’t look remotely comfortable to sleep on.

“What do we do?” you asked Shadow, your voice nearly desperate.

Sighing, he raised his wrist, speaking into the communicator.

“Rouge? Do you read me? What the hell is this supposed to mean?” Static came through, but there was no response. “Rouge, answer me!” Shadow’s voice came out louder than he intended, now almost desperate too.

When no response came, the hedgehog just sighed.

“I’ll sleep on the couch. Make yourself comfortable in the bed.” He turned and headed for the couch. Your eyes followed him as he slowly removed his outfit, unbuttoning and loosening the tie.

For some reason, the scene made your heart race. Even though it was normal for Mobians to go around without clothes, something about this stirred you in an inexplicable way.

Taking a deep breath, you rushed over to him.

“Shadow, take the bed. I’m shorter than you—I’ll fit better on the couch,” you said, seeing his impassive expression as he removed the undershirt.

“...No way. I won’t let you sleep in such an uncomfortable place.” He folded the black shirt with skill, placing it on the side table. Then, with a soft huff, he lay down, grabbing a pillow to rest his head and adjusting his quills. “...Good night.”

Sighing, you nodded, going to the bed. You decided to keep the dress on, as long as it wouldn’t get too wrinkled by morning.

But not even a minute passed before you heard the intense rustling of fur and quills against the couch fabric, accompanied by frustrated grunts.

Opening one eye, you looked over. Shadow was restless, unable to find a comfortable position to sleep on that awful couch.

“...Shadow...” you called.

“...What?” he replied, his voice slightly muffled.

“The bed... it has plenty of space. I wouldn’t mind... I trust you...”

You got no immediate reply—only silence. You figured he had rejected the offer, so you just turned back to try to sleep.

Until you felt the mattress sink beside you. Your eyes flew open wide as you looked to the side, seeing Shadow slowly sliding under the covers.

“...Just for tonight... Rouge owes me big for this...”

You laughed.

“We’ll get back at her tomorrow.”

With a sigh at your words, Shadow turned to sleep, finally dozing off.

--*--

Humming softly, Rouge brought a spoonful of sundae to her mouth, savoring the sweet flavor. Her eyes focused on Omega.

“I think they’re gonna be pretty mad and embarrassed when they see the suite I picked for them.” She laughed.

“Mission progress at 40%. Next step pending.” The robot analyzed.

“Oh, the next step is arriving now...” she said with a sly grin.

At that very moment, a strong breeze swept through the area, followed by a cloud of dust, revealing a blue hedgehog with his arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently.

“Did I get here too early?” he asked.

“The next step just arrived.” She laughed, turning to Sonic. “A bit early, Blue... I’ve got an important mission for you.”

“A mission, huh? What kind? Smash some badniks? Destroy one of Eggman’s evil plans? Fight something?” As he spoke, he started stretching.

“Even better than that... You’re going to be my cupid partner.”

“Cupid partner?” He suddenly stopped, looking confused.

“Exactly. There’s a certain hedgehog couple involved in an ultra-secret mission at that hotel...” Rouge pointed to the hotel entrance. “And I want you to play a very important part...”

“Shadow and [Y/N]? They still haven’t realized there’s something going on between them?” Sonic scratched his head. “Those two... Alright, what’s my part?”

“I think you’re going to love it...” Rouge laughed, a smug smile on her face.

--*--

When your consciousness returned in the morning, your eyes immediately focused on the clock beside the bed. It read 7:56 AM—luckily, it was still early, and you hadn't missed the free breakfast.

Getting up from the bed, you stretched, the dress you still wore rustling softly with your movements. Rubbing your eyes to wake up, you suddenly remembered the events of the day before, a blush spreading across your cheeks.

Looking to the side, you saw Shadow’s side of the bed empty. He had already gotten up and left, and wasn’t anywhere in the room.

Sighing, you got up, preparing yourself for the day and for a possible confrontation with the criminal you were after.

--*--

His red eyes scanned the hotel restaurant. From the large breakfast buffet table, Shadow had only chosen a piece of chocolate cake and a mug of cappuccino.

He grabbed the mug by the handle, taking a sip. Sighing afterwards as the events of that morning played on a loop in his mind.

When he had woken up, he was caught by surprise. At some point while unconscious in his sleep, he had wrapped an arm around your waist, seeking something warm to cling to during the night.

He thanked Gaia immensely that you hadn’t woken up with him, or it would’ve been an even more embarrassing scene than it already was for him.

From that moment on, he had put his suit back on and gone down to the lobby in search of caffeine to wake his mind up and make himself forget.

Suddenly, he felt a strong breeze hit him, rustling his quills, and in a blink of an eye and a blue blur, a very familiar hedgehog stood in front of him.

“Good morning, Shadow! Enjoying the cake? Bet it’s good!” Sonic said cheerfully, leaning on the table.

“What are you doing here?” Shadow muttered, not taking his eyes off the slice of cake.

“You know how it is, just walking around.” Sonic stepped away from the table, pulling out a chair. “Nice suit, attending a fancy event?”

“I’m on a mission, in case you didn’t notice... undercover...” Shadow clenched his fists.

“Undercover agent? Sounds cool. Are you alone?” Shadow froze for a moment, remembering you. He swallowed hard, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Sonic. But before he could say anything else, your voice rang near the table.

“Sonic?!” you said, surprised to see the hedgehog there. In truth, inside you felt a mix of relief and irritation—relief at having a friend to calm your nerves, and irritation at not being able to spend some alone time with Shadow. But you clung to the relief, glad to have someone to talk to and maybe vent a little.

“Hey, [Y/N], it’s been a while since I saw my favorite hedgehog girl!” He ran up to your side, wrapped you in his arms and lifted you, spinning you slowly in the air.

Shadow’s eyes widened, watching the scene with his mouth slightly open. Then his muzzle twisted subtly, showing just how irritated he was with that close contact—something that didn’t go unnoticed by Sonic either, who just continued with the plan.

He gently placed you down, holding your arms delicately.

“You look dazzling today... your quills are practically glowing...” Sonic said in a low, husky tone.

“Stop... you’re making me blush...” You laughed, giving him a friendly pat on the chest.

“If you weren’t on a mission right now, we could go out.” He winked at you with a sideways grin.

“It’s fine, you can have breakfast with me and Shadow,” you offered excitedly.

Before Sonic could reply, the sound of Shadow clearing his throat caught both of your attention.

“We’re working. This isn’t a vacation, Blue Hedgehog... Let her go...” Shadow said firmly, causing Sonic to raise an eyebrow while keeping the little smirk on his face.

“Aw, that’s a shame... well, I’ll be seeing you, then.” Sonic’s green eyes returned to you, making you blush. Suddenly, he started getting closer, eyes half-lidded and muzzle nearing yours.

“Sonic...?” you whispered. But before you could see how that moment would end, a heavy hand grabbed the blue hedgehog’s shoulder, pulling him back. He let out a soft gasp, and you were left stunned in place.

“I said we’re on a mission! Now give us some space.” Shadow crossed his arms at Sonic. The blue hedgehog shrugged, still smiling, before speeding off and leaving the two of you there.

Shadow sighed, shaking his head slightly, then walked back to his seat, once again focusing on the chocolate cake.

“What was that?” you finally managed to say something.

“He was interfering with our mission...” Shadow said, keeping his impassive demeanor. “You better eat—no telling when we might run into the criminal...”

And even though you found the black hedgehog’s behavior extremely confusing, you simply nodded, walking over to the breakfast table to choose what to eat.

--*--

The bat observed everything with a triumphant smile on her face. A strong breeze hit her back, revealing who had just arrived.

Turning around, Rouge found Sonic standing there, a wide smile on his muzzle.

“Nice work, Blue. You got Shadow almost exploding with jealousy.” Rouge gave a thumbs up.

“No problem!” Sonic laughed, stepping beside her, watching the hotel lobby. “Got any new plans?”

“Maybe... something for later. You’re free now, thanks for the help.” Her gaze returned to the lobby.

“Alright, I’ll wander around a bit more. Maybe I’ll see something interesting.” With a small chuckle, Sonic took off again, vanishing into the hotel.

--*--

With quick steps, Shadow scanned the hotel corridors attentively, searching for the supposed criminal he had yet to see any sign of, not even a rumor. Still, with his blind determination to complete the mission, he kept looking for the target.

However, the moment he turned a corner, he stopped, frozen in place, clenching his fists.

“You’re still here?” he said irritably, spotting Sonic leaning against a pillar.

“Hey, Shadow! Good to see you... I was just walking around.” Stepping away from the wall, Sonic approached him. “You got pretty riled up earlier, huh?”

“You were interfering with the mission...”

“The mission or your alone time at breakfast? I think you got mad because I was kind of a inconvenient earlier... For getting in your way with her. You like her, don’t you? No judgment.” Sonic shrugged, placing a hand on his hip.

“Stop talking... There’s nothing between me and her...” Shadow’s brow furrowed deeply.

“Listen... Let me give you a few tips. Go to her and say what you feel—don’t keep it to yourself. And be careful—if you don’t want to lose her, you better make a move...”

The blue hedgehog turned his back and started walking down the hallway. He paused for a moment, glancing back when he realized Shadow hadn’t said anything.

His green eyes focused on the black hedgehog, who stood paralyzed, staring at nothing in particular. Sonic’s words had struck a chord—he was truly lost in thought.

“I hate when you’re right, Sonic.” Shadow crossed his arms. “Not a word about this to her, got it?” he said with a harsh tone.

“It stays between us. But don’t waste time...” Sonic grinned subtly, then dashed off down the hotel corridor, vanishing from sight.

Shadow remained there, deep in thought. He needed to resolve this soon.

His communicator beeped at that moment. He raised his wrist.

“Shadow, do you read me?” Rouge’s voice came through.

“Yes... You finally answered this damn thing...” His tone was irritated.

“Oh, hush... Look, I need to discuss some mission details with you in private. Meet me at the restaurant at lunchtime. I reserved table 07—we’ll have a meeting...” she said through static.

“Will [Y/N] be there?” he asked softly. There were a few seconds of silence.

“It’s a private meeting. She’ll be waiting in the room.”

“Understood... I’m heading to the restaurant now.” Lowering his arm and sighing, Shadow turned around, beginning to walk back toward the lobby.

--*--

Your hands fidgeted nervously with your elegant bracelets, your gaze fixed on the glass of water on the table, then drifting to the number 07 at the center.

It had been about twenty minutes since Rouge contacted you, asking for a private meeting to discuss mission matters without Shadow. Since then, you had made your way to the table, now waiting for the bat to grace you with her presence.

Your hand reached for the glass, taking a sip to hydrate. Your mouth felt drier than usual.

Then, a commotion caught your attention. You focused your gaze on the hostess, seeing her talking to someone, and then, suddenly, she turned and started walking toward your table.

At first, you thought it was finally Rouge, but your heart nearly stopped when you saw the black and red quills behind the waitress. She stopped near the table, gesturing for Shadow to sit down. It was clear from his expression that he was also very curious about this.

He pulled out the chair and sat down in front of you, raising an eyebrow.

“I thought I was coming to have lunch with Rouge...” he said softly, placing his hand on the table and tapping his finger rhythmically on the tablecloth.

“I thought the same...” You scratched your neck, and to your own surprise, this time you held eye contact with his red eyes, giving the hedgehog a slight smile.

For a moment, the two of you remained in a long silence, simply staring at each other without saying a word.

A waiter stopped by the table, handing each of you a menu.

“Has the couple chosen their wine?” he asked kindly.

You almost opened your mouth to say that you weren’t a couple, but you remembered it was all part of the mission, so you just waited, looking at Shadow over the top of your menu. However, to your surprise, his expression was calm, showing no sign of discomfort at the waiter’s comment.

For a moment, the black hedgehog analyzed the options on the paper, then handed back the menu.

“Bring me your best wine...” he said impassively to the waiter, who nodded, taking the menu he had given to you and leaving.

“Best wine, huh?” You giggled.

“Only the best for today...” He gave a rare sideways smirk, before returning to his neutral expression. “About this mission...”

“What?” You looked at him curiously.

“Don’t you think it’s strange we haven’t seen this so-called criminal yet?...” he asked.

“Hmmm... I did think about that, but I decided to just go with it. Who knows, maybe he’s a dangerous guy.” You shrugged.

“I’ve never heard of any criminal matching the description we were given...”

“You’re right... everything is so suspicious, huh?” Your hand scratched your chin, thinking about how these past two days had been unlike anything you had ever experienced. To you, it seemed impossible to believe this was all part of Rouge’s plan.

“For now... let’s wait for the wine. I’m sure the truth will come out soon.” Shadow observed, watching the waiter approach with the wine.

--*--

Rouge’s eyes were fixed on the other side of the restaurant, watching the interaction between you and Shadow.

“Nice work, Blue.” She turned her head, focusing on Sonic beside her, who was enjoying some chili dogs.

“No problem... and the payment was worth it in the end, so it was all good.” He laughed, raising a chili dog.

Rouge chuckled too.

“The lovebirds are making progress...” At that moment, her communicator let out a soft crackle.

“Rouge, do you copy... Perimeter analysis identified imminent danger. Engaging in combat is highly recommended.” Omega’s robotic voice came through.

“Omega? No, no engaging yet, we don’t know what it is...” She stood up from her chair, catching Sonic’s curiosity. He quickly finished his last chili dog, licked his fingers, and got up to follow her.

“Horde of badniks identified. Potential risk to life. Evacuate civilians from the area immediately,” he said again through the communicator.

“Badniks? Right here, right now? This universe must be joking...” She barely finished speaking when suddenly the windows facing outside shattered, revealing several Grounders invading nonstop, making Rouge clench her fists.

“Rouge, get back!” Sonic called out, performing a Homing Attack on a Grounder that got too close to her.

“Thanks, Blue... Just what we needed today—this completely ruined our mission!”

--*--

When the glass shattered near you, the first thing you felt was a pair of strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you away. When you opened your eyes again, you were crouched behind a table with Shadow, his arms still around you, but his gaze was fixed on the horde of Grounders invading the place.

“Shadow?...” You called.

“Hm? Are you hurt?” He looked at you.

“N-no... But... what’s going on?”

“I’d like to know that too... A sudden horde of badniks like this... makes no sense.”

“Well... at least we’ll get to save something in this mission.” You gave him a small smile. “Let’s go. I can fight too.” He looked at you seriously before nodding.

“Let’s go, then...” But as soon as you stood up, the ground began to shake, and through the same shattered window, a Grounder twice the size of the others entered, scanned the area, and began to move inside.

“Our first target?” you said as you stretched.

“You bet.” Shadow cracked his knuckles, took a step forward, loosened his tie a bit, and rolled up the sleeves of his suit as much as he could.

“Distract him... I’ll handle the rest,” Shadow said in a rough voice.

“Got it!” With that, you dashed off, running as fast as you could, approaching the huge badnik. Along the way, you dodged smaller Grounders, jumping over them, avoiding the drills that threatened to hurt you.

Curling into yourself, you became a ball of quills, spinning at high speed toward the target, hitting one of its treads and destroying it. It screeched, bracing itself with its drills on the ground to avoid falling.

The badnik’s robotic eyes looked at you in fury. You stopped just behind it, standing up again.

“That’s it, come get me! You’re angry, right?” you taunted. But your eyes widened when it began dragging itself across the ground, digging in one drill at a time, quickly closing the distance between you.

In a swift move, you ran toward it, seeing Shadow flanking the badnik, preparing his Chaos Spears.

When you got in front of the Grounder, it raised a drill, swinging it down toward you, but you quickly rolled under the attack, stopping beside the badnik, hearing only the electrical noise and the screech of the Chaos Spears striking the robot, followed by the impact of a Homing Attack from the black hedgehog on top of the Grounder.

The badnik screeched, but even damaged, it lunged to the side, catching you off guard. One of its drills hit your arm squarely, launching you far, making you cry out in pain and then gasp as you crashed onto one of the tables, the wood shattering completely under the impact.

The Grounder then collapsed to the ground, defeated, and exploded. Shadow stood in front of the badnik, glaring at the machine with disdain. Only then did he spot your figure collapsed against what used to be a table. His eyes widened, and with a jolt, he ran to you.

“[Y/N]!” he shouted, kneeling by your side, carefully picking up your arm to examine the injury.

“Hey... it’s just a scratch... I’m fine, just a little tired.” You waved your hand dismissively.

“That doesn’t look like just a scratch...” He narrowed his eyes, noticing the blood between your fur.

“Shadow... relax, what matters is we beat it.” You looked around, seeing the smaller Grounders fleeing the hotel restaurant in a rush, exiting through the broken window.

The hedgehog growled, squeezing your arm a little more firmly.

“...Don’t scare me like that again. If something happens to you...” He clenched his teeth, his fangs visible, his expression showing clear irritation and desperation. You raised an eyebrow.

“You... you care that much?” Your question came out hesitant, but you needed to know.

“...Of course I do... I’ve always cared...” His red eyes locked onto yours, staring intensely.

He slowly ran a hand behind your neck, helping you sit up. His breathing had clearly quickened, as had his heartbeat. The moment felt otherworldly—you didn’t even feel the throbbing of your wound anymore.

Nearby, Rouge flew by and stopped suddenly, grabbing Sonic’s arm to make him stop as they headed toward the two of you.

“Just look at that...” she said, impressed, seeing Shadow so close to you.

"Looks like it worked out in the end." Sonic observed with a content smile, crossing his arms.

"Come on, Blue... let's see how Omega is doing out there with the badnik extermination." Rouge pulled the blue hedgehog, walking away from where the two of you were.

Shadow's hand gently moved to your cheek, his thumb tracing circles over your soft fur.

"Shadow..." you said softly, closing your eyes to enjoy the contact. Your good hand intertwined fingers with his.

"You are... someone I would protect with my life. And not just because you're my mission partner." He gave you a very sweet smile, his firm hand on your cheek slowly pulling you closer until his muzzle softly touched yours, your mouths meeting in a gentle kiss.

It didn’t last long, though. He soon pulled back, leaning in to place a light kiss on your forehead.

"Was that some kind of confession?" You teased, your hand gently caressing his.

"Maybe... interpret it however you like..." he said, also smiling slightly.

"In that case... I’d protect you with my life too, Shadow..." His eyes widened for a moment before he smiled again, his gaze drifting back to your lips. But before he could lean in again, a nearby crackling sound caught both your attention.

"Well, well, well... Who would've thought I’d find two lovebirds here... A genius like me can’t have a moment of peace—just when I try to take over a luxury hotel, hedgehogs start falling from the sky right in front of me... What were you two doing here, anyway?" Eggman's voice rang out. It took a moment for you to realize where it was coming from until your eyes focused on one of the pieces of the destroyed badnik—a kind of communicator with a blinking green light.

"We were on a mission..." Shadow said seriously.

"Oh yes, what a lovely mission, relaxing in a five-star hotel... You must be joking with me, huh? You oversized rodents are always messing w—" Sparking, the small communicator finally shorted out, falling silent.

"So, there was never a criminal, huh?" you said, laughing.

"No..."

"And this was all probably Rouge’s plan, right?"

"Absolutely..."

"And then we ended up saving a luxury hotel by coincidence..."

"Exactly..." Shadow shook his head, wrapping an arm around your waist to help you stand. "Quite the adventure... Let’s head back to HQ. We need a med kit for that injury."

Saying that, the black hedgehog began helping you walk, step by step.

--*--

The sounds of static and muffled dialogue over the communicator filled the room. You ran your hand over the bandages around your arm, testing how much it still hurt. Beside you on the infirmary bed, Shadow sat with his arms crossed, silently watching Rouge pace back and forth while talking on her communicator.

"Who is she talking to?" you asked quietly.

"The Commander..." Shadow said seriously, turning toward you and gently intertwining his fingers with your free hand.

Suddenly, Rouge stopped in front of the bed, her wrist communicator still active.

"The Commander wants to speak with you two..." she said, extending her arm so you both could listen.

"Shadow... [Y/N], do you copy? I only have one thing to say..." he said in a threatening tone. You and Shadow exchanged glances, expecting the worst—but what the Commander said next caught both of you off guard.

"I truly hope that mission was a complete success... I had to blow G.U.N.'s budget to make it happen... I followed every single item Rouge prepared. If I weren’t the Commander, I’d definitely be fired by now!" Abraham said irritably, though with a hopeful undertone in his voice.

"No worries, Commander... The mission was a tremendous success." You replied proudly, exchanging a look with Shadow.

"Ah, very well, thank you for letting me know... I’m happy for you, Shadow. Take good care of her... Towers out..."

Suddenly, the communicator shut off, leaving silence to settle over the room again.

"At least the Commander already approves of your relationship... Congrats!" Rouge clapped her hands once.

You laughed at Shadow, giving him a sweet smile. He returned the smile and leaned slightly toward you, capturing your lips in a kiss, trying to show through it that he was making a silent promise never to leave you.

He would just have to remember to thank Rouge later. After all, he’d never had a Cupid as good as her.

[wonyology]

Blueprints Of Us (m!reader x IVE's WONYOUNG) - part II

part I - part III (not yet)

Summary: A heartbroken architect. An ambitious girl. They didn't know each other existed - until the day they met in Hong Kong. What began as a pleasant encounter slowly turns into something neither of them planned: a connection, and perhaps... a new beginning.

tags(?): fluff, first date but not really, wony being beautiful, i don't even know man, the ending might surprise u guys a bit hehe

WONYOUNG x yourself/Original Male Character

Word count: ~10k - i tried something new at the ending so... hope u guys like it. also, shout out to all my architect readers/followers (sorry too... i know nothing about architecture)

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Mapo-gu, Seoul

You woke up before the alarm. The morning light filtered through the blinds, warm and familiar. It was Seoul, it was home. Your ceiling stared back at you, smooth with that one faint line where the paint never quite dried evenly. You’d always meant to fix it. You never did. Your neck ached. The flight back to Korea had done something to your spine, or maybe it was the way you had slept for hours trying not to think about her.

The bed still smelled like fresh laundry. Clean. Lifeless, but cozy. You sat up slowly, your body was stiff and unsatisfied since sleep hadn’t done what it was supposed to do. You’d only been back in Seoul.

Mapo was quiet this early. Your apartment was modest, thoughtfully designed. It sat near the edge of Yeonnam-dong. Not big, but it was yours. A unit on the second floor of a three story walk up - one of those multi-use buildings with clean renovations and just three other tenants. No elevator, no security desk. 

There was a small row of garages tucked behind the building - nothing fancy but secure enough, One of them was yours. You’d bought the car a year ago - a 2023 Kia K5, grey, low mileage. A good friend from school was leaving Korea and offered you the deal, it was too reasonable to pass up. You had money to spend. You didn’t need the car every day, but it was good for site visits around Seoul. You just felt good driving around in it - it did what it needed to do, and did it well. You kept it parked in the corner. Sometimes, late at night, you’d drive around to clear your head - those drives gave you new ideas. More than once, a project breakthrough started with you just driving around with no destination. People told you to get a foreign, they said women loved it and it looked way better. They meant well, probably, but you didn’t care for all that. Hey, you also support the local car industry. Too many people in Korea buried themselves in debt trying to appear richer than they were - German cars, Swiss watches, French designers, Italian jewelry. You’d seen it. You’d designed for some of them. It wasn’t for you.

Inside, the apartment was exactly your type. The kitchen bled into the living room. A long counter ran along the black wall, doubling as both workspace and dinner table. To the left, a door to your bedroom. To the right, your work room - wide desk, shelves stacked with binders and materials. The bathroom sat between both room. Nothing was excessive, but they all functioned. It wasn’t a designer place or anything, just a place that didn’t ask too much of you when you came home exhausted. You’d gotten the apartment through one of your old professors at SNU - a favor, or maybe just nice timing. The previous tenant was another architecture friend of his, and your name came up. The monthly payment was reasonable, especially for Seoul.

You finally swung your legs over the edge of the bed and dragged yourself to the bathroom. While brushing your teeth in silence, you stared at your own reflection like you weren’t ready to be him yet - the aspiring architect who had things to do, places to be. You then splashed cold water on your face, ran a towel over your jaw and stood there for a long second, just breathing in and out. Not too tired now but not too awake either. You then walked to the living room, fingers combing absently through your hair.  You sat on the sofa for a few minutes - not thinking, not planning, just… pausing. For a moment, nothing moved.

Then, without any planning, you pulled out your phone and tapped the photo gallery. Dumb photos in Hong Kong. Site visits. Sketches. Drinks with Dabin and Barom. And then, those pictures of her.

Right, Jimin.

You stared at those photos, one longer than the rest - her birthday, maybe. A blurry shot of her laughing in a red sweater, leaning into your shoulder. You didn’t know how to feel anymore, after Hong Kong. 

What is she doing now?

You thought for a bit too long before making the decision. You tapped. 

One. 

Two. 

Three… Too many photos. 

Confirm. Delete. Photo by photo. Memory by memory.

All deleted now. It was on this same couch a few weeks ago that you’d cried your eyes out, after she dumped you. You’d stayed there all night, rethinking your life choices. And now? You didn’t even know. You exhaled slowly, setting the phone down.

What should I have for breakfast today?

Your phone suddenly buzzed.

Who is it?

[워녕이녕이🐰]  sent 1 image.

good morning oppa

back to reality already? or still thinking about me?

The photo was a close up selfie. She wore a face mask, bangs held up with a roller. Her mole, just under her right eye, stood out more than usual. It was… stupidly cute. Too intimate for someone you weren’t even dating. Too soft. Jimin used to do things like this too. But it didn’t feel the same. Wonyoung just stared into the camera like she already knew what it would do to you.

Why am I thinking about Jimin?

You didn’t have an answer for it. With Wonyoung right now, it felt like something new was trying to start. And you weren’t sure if you deserved it yet. You ran your hand down your face, trying to think of what to reply instead of backing down whenever things got too close too quickly like you used to do.

[You]

still thinking, but maybe that’s your fault

how was your flight back to korea? sorry i couldn’t text you last night. too tired and fell asleep immediately when i got home

[워녕이녕이🐰] 

omg u finally replied

i was starting to think u were ghosting me ><

do you have work today?

[You]

no i was just tired lol

yeah i was about to get ready for work

why? do you want to do something?

[워녕이녕이🐰] 

maybe…

just something to eat? 

casual thing

unless u are too busy being a serious architect~

Another text followed immediately.

[워녕이녕이🐰] 

i mean…

im free tonight

and i look really pretty today, oppa

You smiled. Of course she made it sound casual. Of course she had to slip that part in, You could imagine her voice saying that, like she wasn’t asking but daring you to say no. You typed slowly, carefully - not too much, not too eager.

[You]

i’ll try and get off work a little early for you. what time are you free?

send me the address, i’ll come pick you up

[워녕이녕이🐰] 

look at you~

picking me up and everything

is 7.30 ok? it’s this place in sangsu dong

i heard the food is good, also the lighting is nice… just in case we take pictures

i’ll send you my address later

Another message followed seconds later:

wear something dark, oppa

you look good in those colors

You smiled again, slower this time. The lighting, pictures, dark colors - it didn’t feel like a casual meet up, but a mood she wanted to set. You didn’t answer right away. Maybe tonight was already the beginning of something. Something new. You weren’t sure what it really was. But you weren’t going to walk away from it either. Not this time.

When you were driving to work, Mapo was still shaking itself awake. You rolled past narrow cafes getting ready to open, delivery trucks parked on the side of the street, a rich looking woman walking her dog in slippers and an oversized coat. It was July - too humid for that, but maybe that’s how people were around here. Always dressing like someone is watching. The light was soft but not too bright, filtering through low clouds like the city hadn’t decided what mood to settle into yet. That was Seoul, too curated, too restless, but it was home. You didn’t always love it. But you knew how to live in it.

Turning into the narrow alley behind your office building, you locked the car and slung your bag over your shoulder. The elevator here sucked, you always took the stairs. The office looked half finished on purpose - concrete floors, open shelves, sketches taped all over the place. Music played low from a speaker no one remembered buying and the place somehow smelled like burnt coffee and foam board dust. Dabin looked up from his screen as you walked in, chewing on something that looked like leftover food.

“You look well rested, that girl you met in Hong Kong still texting you?” he asked.

You didn’t answer right away. Just dropped your bag on the floor and booted up your monitor.

“So that’s a yes,” he muttered. “You’re in trouble, man.”

You didn’t deny. Maybe he wasn’t wrong. 

The morning passed in pieces - sketches, emails, render updates. You kept your head down mostly, tuning out the lum hum of conversation, clatter of coffee mugs around you. Around eleven, Barom’s voice rang out from the back.

“Haejoon-ah. Got a sec?”

You glanced up from your screen and grabbed your notebook. His office was tucked behind a sliding glass door - clean enough but always cluttered with a whole bunch of material samples. He didn’t look up as you walked in, already scrolling through something on his tablet.

“Close the door.”

You did.

“What about Hong Kong?”

You spoke. Updates on the renovation proposal, logistics stuff, something about budget, material revision. You flipped to the right page in your notes, answered what needed answering. Routine stuff. Nothing out of hand. Just as you were about to leave, he leaned back in his chair and gave you a look.

“Oh, what about that girl? Was it Wonyoung?”

“What about her, hyung?” you blinked.

“You haven’t told me much about her.” he smirked, too sharp to be harmless.

“I mean… we texted, like a lot after that day.”

Barom leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, watching you too closely now.

“Okay, do you like her?”

You gave a small shrug, trying not to give too much away.

“She’s fun to talk to. I’d say a mix of cute shyness and confidence. Sharp. Easy going.”

“You talk about a girl like she’s a design brief.”

You huffed a short laugh.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, hyung.”

He waited, quiet. Not pushing but not letting you off the hook either. You scratched your jaw, hesitated. 

“She was…shy but got flirty after drinking a bit that night.” you admitted.

“But also honest. She saw that picture I took with that chaebol’s daughter, Seo-yoon - the one I designed the gallery thingy for - and her model friend. Maybe she got a little jealous. She pinched me.”

“She pinched you?” he didn’t expect that part.

You nodded, reenacting what Wonyoung did to you that night - the way her fingers rested on the back of your hand before pinching twice. He watched you do it, then speaking up more gently:

“And… Jimin?”

Your fingers paused in the air. You let your hands fall back to your side.

“It’s over, hyung.”

“Are you still thinking about her?” he asked after giving you a slow nod. 

You didn’t answer right away. The question doesn’t sting, but it landed heavier than you expected.

“Only a bit.” you answered, honestly. “But much less than before.”

Barom leaned forward, elbows on the desk.

“You don’t have to rush it, you know. Don’t do it because you want to forget about your ex quickly. That thing never works.”

You nodded. You knew that already. He paused for a bit then shifted slightly in his chair.

“So, that floral studio thing. How serious is that?”

You glanced at him, already knowing where this is going. 

“She wants it done right. It’s not just some cute idea. They’re serious about it. I said I’d help… without going through you first. But that also means one more deal for us.”

Barom didn’t react right away.

“You know I don’t micromanage. And you told me about it that night already, Haejoon-ah.” he said. “I’m okay with that. I trust your call.”

“Thanks, hyung.”

“Just brief me properly once things are agreed - site conditions, budget, whatever comes up. Do the heavy stuff, I’ll handle the boring stuff.”

“Paperwork.” you said.

“Yeah. Client agreement, contractor docs, other things. Leave that to me.”

He glanced at you, then added.

“Until you get your license, I’m still the one who has to sign everything.”

“I just hit the requirement this year, hyung.”

“I know.” he smirked. “Scary how fast that came, huh? You’re almost legit now.”

You gave him a look.

“I’ve been legit.”

“Legit? Sure. Legal? Not yet.”

You were already halfway to the door when you added, offhandedly.

“I’m picking her up tonight, by the way.”

“Dinner?” Barom looked up, asking you.

“Yeah, somewhere in Sangsu-dong.”

He raised his eyebrows, impressed.

“Damn. Back from Hong Kong with a new girlfriend. Don’t say anything weird, man.”

“Shut up.”

That day, you left the office earlier than usual. Didn’t make any big deal out of it. Just grabbed your stuff and nodded at Dabin before leaving. But the second you stepped into the parking spot, something shifted. The car was clean. You’d asked Dabin to have it washed a few days ago and vacuumed inside just last weekend. But here you were, standing there, staring at it like something wasn’t right. You opened the door, checked the dashboard. Adjusted the position of the phone mount even though it was fine. Brushed an invisible speck off the console. Straightened the folded umbrella in the backseat. You weren’t fixing anything. You were… just stalling. 

So you drove to the nearest GS25 on the way home. Picked up two bottles of water, just in case. A few light snacks - something sweet, something salty. A hangover relief drink, just in case you two drank and wine turned her red. Maybe a pack of gum for the ride. She didn’t ask for anything. But you liked being prepared - even if you didn’t know how the night would go, you could at least make sure she was comfortable.

You got home just in time to shower quickly and changed twice. Something dark, like she said. You checked all your belongings and rushed to the car before you had time to overthink anything else. She sent the address as you got into the car.

[워녕이녕이🐰] 

here~

im hanging around with my friend near this place

text me when you get here oppa

Garosu-gil.

It was trendy, expensive, the kind of street where fashion enthusiasts shop and TikTokers walk around to interview influencers. But still, one more stop before picking Wonyoung up. You swung by a small flower shop - the one near the Mangwon market with old signs and buckets lined up on the curb. Not fancy, but the flowers were fresh and the auntie who ran it knew her stuff. You stood there longer than you meant to, staring at everything like you were about to fail an exam.

“It’s for someone who knows flowers, auntie.” you said.

“She’s very into floral work… This is my first time taking her out, she said it’s just a normal hangout but I want to impress her.”

The auntie glanced up from where she was wrapping a bouquet. Her eyes softened.

“Oh my, how sweet. You’re so thoughtful. That alone should impress her.”

You scratched the back of your neck, embarrassed.

“I don’t know too much about flowers so maybe you could help me, auntie.”

“Of course. Lucky for you, I almost closed ten minutes ago.”

“Really?”

“Mm. I had a feeling someone nice would stop by today.”

Weird.

She hummed softly as she moved through the buckets, pulling a few delicate freesia stems, soft ranunculus and some spray of greenery carefully.

“Let’s keep it light and gentle.” she said. “Pretty but not too much.”

You nodded, watching her work. She wrapped the bouquet in kraft paper and tied it neatly.

“There. Give it to her properly, okay?”

You paid and bowed before taking it carefully.

“Thank you, auntie.”

“Drive safe. And tell her she’s lucky too.”

You got there at 7:17, found a parking spot just a few blocks away. Turned off the engine and stepped out. The sky was already darkening, the street buzzing with people heading out to dinner or go clubbing.

[You]

i’m here. across from the cafe with the green sign. 

You leaned against the passenger side of the car and waited, checking your reflection in the window without making it too obvious. The bouquet sat quietly in the passenger seat. A few minutes passed. And then, you saw her standing on the corner with a friend, laughing at something. She turned as her friend pointed toward the car, eyes landing on you. And just like that, your heart did something it hadn’t done in a while. Not because Wonyoung looked good, she did. But because she looked like she was genuinely happy to see you. 

Wonyoung crossed the street, her friend peeled off in the other direction - not without giving you a quick look over, maybe to check if you were worth the hype. You tried your best not to react, keeping your gaze on Wonyoung. She walked with that easy kind of confidence, the kind that didn’t try too hard but always made people focus on her. The kind that made everything around her feel more interesting. When she spotted you, she waved with one hand, smiling like the two of you had done this a thousand times before. And that was when you noticed, her bangs were gone. Her forehead was bare now, clean and open. A small change but it sure made her look different. You straightened your posture as she reached the car, and for a few seconds, neither of you said anything. You, holding the door. Her with both hands at her sides, suddenly shifting her weight. She looked up at you.

“Hi.”

Barely above a whisper, like she forgot how to use her voice. You nodded, a smile tugging at your mouth.

“Hi.”

For some reason, that made her laugh under her breath. She looked away, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, the edge of her lips pulling in like she was trying not to grin too much.

“You’re not gonna say anything about my hair, oppa?”

“I was about to,” you replied. “You look really beautiful.”

She looked at you again, this time not hiding the way her cheeks warmed.

“You too, oppa.”

A pause followed. She stepped closer, finally glancing at the passenger seat. And when she saw what was waiting there, her whole expression shifted.

“Wait… Are those-?”

Before she could finish, you just smiled and opened the door for her to see. Wonyoung got a clear look at the bouquet - soft, simple - then back at you. She let out a giggle, soft and shy. The kind that made you feel like you made her whole day.

“Oh my, you got flowers?”

“You’re into flowers, I had to try.”

She looked at the bouquet again, then slid into the seat, still smiling. 

“You’re dangerous, oppa. You know that?”

You closed the door gently behind her, still smiling like a fool as you made your way around to the driver’s side. In the car, neither of you said anything for the first few seconds. Just the quiet hum of the AC and the soft rustle of the bouquet in her lap. You adjusted the mirror then glanced her way.

“Can you type the address in for me?”

She nodded quickly, like she was waiting for you to speak first.

“Mm. Here.”

She reached for the screen, her shoulders brushing lightly against yours as she typed.

“It’s in Sangsu-dong. Shouldn’t be too long.”

“Okay.”

The road opened up in front of you, quiet and slowly. A few blocks passed. She settled back into her seat, bouquet still in her lap. Then, like she couldn’t help it anymore.

“Are you nervous, oppa?”

You glanced at her, eyes flickering back to the road just as fast.

“A little.”

“Me too.” she smiled.

“Why are you nervous?” you asked, voice low. “We’ve been texting since that day. And you weren’t exactly shy in Hong Kong either.”

She blinked, surprised.

“Huh?”

Your tone low, genuinely curious now.

“You unbuttoned my shirt, leaned your head on my shoulder, pinched me when you saw the photo of me and the chaebol’s daughter with her model friend.”

She let out a soft laugh, not denying any of it.

“Yeah… and you didn’t stop me.”

“I didn’t know I was allowed to.”

“And I had a little wine.”

You glanced at her, smirking.

“You’re blaming the wine?”

She tilted her head, still smiling.

“No.” she said. “But the wine helped. I still meant everything I did and said.”

You chuckled lightly. Your hands tighten slightly on the wheels. Wonyoung shifted, the bouquet crinking lightly in her lap as she reached for her phone.

“This wrapping’s really nice, oppa.” she said, casually while holding the flowers up just enough to get the right angle. “Not really overdone. The palette’s soft… maybe a little wild.”

She tapped the screen twice to adjust the light before snapping a photo.

“Good taste, oppa.”

You shook your head, smiling to yourself.

“Uh, that’s all the flower shop auntie. I just told her you were hard to impress.”

Wonyoung let out a quiet laugh, already typing something. She looked at the photo for a few seconds, adjusted the filter slightly then, without saying a word, uploaded it to Instagram. You didn’t ask, but your phone buzzed almost immediately. You glanced at it then back on the road. 

“You can play music, if you want to.”

She looked at you, eyebrows slightly raised.

“Really?”

“Yeah, anything’s fine.” you gave a small nod.

She smiled at that like she knew exactly what that meant and reached for the screen.

“You’re giving me too much power right now.”

You didn’t reply, letting out a light laugh. And when the first song came on - Insomnia by Dvwn, Yayyoung - you realized you hadn’t heard it before. It was warm, melodic and soft. As it filled the car, it made sense. Of course this would be her choice. You drove in silence, letting the music settle in for a bit before asking, quietly.

“Wonyoung-ah.”

“Huh?”

“Are you thirsty?”

She glanced at you, lips pouting, then nodded a little.

“Umm… maybe a little.”

You reached one hand back behind your seat, careful not to swerve and pulled out a cold water bottle and a small bag of snacks - nothing fancy, but you hoped it was enough to impress her.

“I got you some water, just in case.” you said, setting it gently into the cup holder. 

“And… some light snacks too. If you’re hungry before we get there.” you set the snacks on her laps, next to the flower bouquet.

Wonyoung blinked, staring down at what you’d handed her. Then she looked up.

“You’re full of surprises, oppa. I didn’t think you’d think that far.” her voice was soft.

You glanced at her for a bit.

“I mean, I have to when I’m with you.”

The car felt warmer all of a sudden, or maybe it was her. She looked away quickly, uncapped the bottle and took a sip, trying to hide her smile. But you caught the way her cheeks turned a little pink. She let out a cute laugh, holding the bottle like it gave her something to do, cheeks still flushed. The rest of the car ride passed in peaceful, warm conversation - the kind that didn’t rush, didn’t try too hard and enough to make you want it to last longer.

A little while later, the two of you were seated at the restaurant, you across from her. It had a warm, intimate glow. Gold accents, ambient lighting and tall leather booths definitely gave you and her a sense of privacy. Thin bamboo rods lined the back wall, catching the light just enough to feel modern but not flashy. The plating was precise, deliberate - like those in the movies. The meals came out in courses. You two started with a salad - fresh greens layered with tomatoes, citrus and some radish. The cheese on top really gave it a richness that balanced the brightness of the dish. She ate it slowly, with one hand curled lightly at her chest as she took each bite.

“How was it?” you asked. 

She looked up, nodded and smiled softly. 

“It’s good, oppa. Really balanced.”

Then, after a beat.

“I like that they don’t overdress it. A lot of places try hard.”

You nodded, took a bite yourself - but your eyes kept drifting back to Wonyoung. She looked effortlessly put together. A soft ivory shirt with delicate straps and ruffled edges, something simple but screamed elegant. Her hair was tied up in a neat bun, with a soft scrunchie tucked at the back. A few strands framed her face just right. With the lighting in the restaurant, she looked like an actress straight out of a romance. Then she made this face, cheeks puffed slightly, brows raised like she was reacting to something in the salad. Your heart dropped and stumbled at the same time. You pulled out your phone without much thinking.

“You look too cute right now.”

She looked up, mid bite but amused.

“Hmm?”

“Just eat” you said, lifting your phone up, finding her good angle. “I’ll take pictures for you.”

She let out a soft laugh, covering her mouth with one hand while still holding her fork in the other.

“You’re not serious, oppa.”

“I’m not kidding. You look great in this lighting.”

She gave you a look, a mix of playfulness and shyness, before straightening up a little in her seat, adjusting her posture slightly.

“Get my good side, please.”

And just liked that, she smiled and posed for you. Her eyes looked like she was enjoying this more than she let on.

You snapped a few quietly, steady hands, trying to get it right. This mattered too much right now. When you lowered the phone, she reached across the table with both hands, palms open.

“Let me see, please.”

You hand the phone over. She brought the phone close, scrolling slowly.

“Whoa… This is really good.” she looked up, genuinely happy.

“I was literally about to ask you to take pictures for me too, oppa.” she laughed a little. “You just beat me to it.”

You shrugged, trying to play it off.

“I guess I’m learning how to lead you.”

Maybe that caught her off guard.

“You’re kinda… good at this.” she blinked, then looked down at the photo again, trying to bite back a smile.

“Like not just the pictures. The whole thing too.”

The main course came not long after - steak, pink and perfect. Wonyoung lit up the moment it landed.

“Ooh. Wait, take pictures of this too, oppa.”

You smiled, obeying immediately.

“You want only you or you and the food.”

“Both, obviously.” she said, adjusting her posture. “Make it look candid.”

You raised an eyebrow but played along, catching her mid pose as she faked cutting her steak.

“A few more.”

She fixed her hair, elbows on the table, angling her face just right on her fingers. 

“Okay, now.”

You snapped a few, doing your best to stay cool but your heart was working so hard. 

“That’s beautiful. Okay, eat it before it gets cold,” you said, setting your phone down.

“You’re weirdly good at this, oppa. Have you done it before?” she said, hand reaching for the water.

“I’m just a fast learner.”

She gave you a look, lips pouting like she was a bit skeptical - maybe didn’t quite believe you and liked that more than she let on. She glanced at her steak.

“You want me to cut it for you?”

“Are you offering?” she smiled slowly, flustered.

You reached for her plate without saying anything, pulled it toward you and cut it into neat, bite sized pieces. She watched you, chin resting lightly on her hand.

“You didn’t have to.” her voice soft.

“I know. That’s why I did.”

Her eyes flickered up to meet yours, she looked like she wanted to say something but didn’t. You slid the plate back to her, now perfectly cut.

“There you go.”

“Hmm, that was smooth, oppa.” 

You smirked, picking up your fork again.

“You said I was good at this.” 

“I didn’t think you’d be that good.”

She took a bite, cheeks a little pink, and the two of you eased back into conversation - soft, lighthearted. She dabbed her lips with a napkin then looked at you across the table.

“What’s work like these days?”

“Umm, busy. I’m juggling a few projects. One of them just got approved, so there’s a lot of back-and-forth.”

“Is that the hotel renovation thingy in Hong Kong?”

“That one’s almost done.” You smiled, deciding to tease her. “This one is smaller. A studio.”

Her brows lifted slightly.

“Oh? What kind of studio, oppa?”

“A floral studio.” you said casually, watching her expression.

She narrowed her eyes.

“Huh, sounds familiar.”

You chuckled. 

“Yeah, really familiar.”

She took another bite, then leaned forward.

“And your MBTI, oppa. You never fully told me that day in Hong Kong.”

“You got close,” you said. “But not quite.”

“Mmm…” she tilted her head slightly. “You’re definitely not an E. Quiet, calm but not passive.”

“Keep going.” you took a bite of your steak.

Wonyoung squinted at you.

“You seemed like a T at first, oppa. I think you pretend to be all logical and chill but I feel like you care a lot more than you show.”

You smiled slowly.

“Still not done guessing?”

“Nope. I’m invested now.” she tapped her fork against her plate, thoughtful.

“IS…TJ? No, wait. ISTP?”

You looked at her long enough to make her lean forward more. Then you shrugged.

“Maybe.”

She narrowed her eyes, lips forming a small pout.

“Oppa~! Just tell me.”

“I mean…” you leaned back, wiping your mouth with the napkin.

“You did get kinda close.”

“Kinda? I was right, wasn’t I?’

“Were you?”

“Ahhh.” she pretended to scream, softly, sinking back in her seat.

“You’re annoying, oppa.”

“But you’re enjoying this.” you said while grinning.

Wonyoung looked away, but not before you caught her blush creeping back in.

“Whatever, I know I’m right.”

You shook your head as you reached for your water. But then, out of nowhere.

“You’re the kind of guy that doesn’t always say what he feels but thinks about it all the time, right oppa?”

The question hung in the air, playful on the surface but something about the way she said it felt more honest than teasing. Your gaze moved to Wonyoung, she was watching you carefully now. Before you could respond, the waiter returned and placed down a dish. Sweet and soft. Strawberries and cream.

“That looks dangerous.” she whispered, still half watching you as the waiter left.

You glanced at the dessert, then back at her.

“So was the question.”

Her lips curved into a smile, but she didn’t press. Instead, her gaze flicked to the plate.

“Okay, oppa. One last time. Take pictures for me?”

You reached for your phone again, already smiling.

“You’re getting spoiled.”

“Mmm.” she said, tilting her head to lure you in with her charm. “And I like it.”

I like it too.

You took the photos and showed it to her. She didn’t ask to take them again. She just nodded, pleased and dug into the dessert with a happy smile. The rest of the night eased into warmth again. The tension from earlier melted between bites of cream and bits of laughter. When the bill came, you’d already handed your card to the waiter without saying a word. She noticed but didn’t fight it, just smiled quietly to herself. As soon as you stood from the table and walked out the restaurant, she was beside you and hooked her arms through yours like she’d been waiting for this moment to come. She leaned into you just enough to feel close but not clingy. Wonyoung was light on her feet, humming softly. You opened the car door for her, but she didn’t get in. She stood there for a second, eyes drifting down the street, lips pursed in thought. Then she looked at you.

“Oppa.” she said shyly. 

“I don’t want to go home yet.”

You didn’t say anything right away. Just stepped a little closer, slipping your jacket off your and draping it over her shoulders. Her cheeks were blazing, the sleeves long past her hands.

“Get in.” you said. “We’ll drive around for a while.”

“I don’t want to go home yet either.”

She smiled and got into the car without a word.

Sangsu-dong blurred gently passed the windows as you drove, without rush or reason. Just the hum of the wheels, the quiet music in the background. She didn’t say anything at first, just sat quietly with your jacket pulled around her, hands tucked into the sleeves. Her bouquet rested in her lap again. She turned her head slowly, looking out the window, Seoul’s night lights shining on her face in flickers of yellow and red.

“Where are we going, oppa?” she asked eventually, soft.

“Wanna stop somewhere for a bit?”

“Where?”

“Somewhere we can sit. Take in the view. Just for a while.”

Her nod said more than words. Then she shifted slightly in her seat, reaching for the snacks you bought her earlier on the dashboard. “You really bought snacks and everything?” she asked, her tone light but fond.

“I told you.” you said, keeping your eyes on the road. “Just in case.”

She opened one of the bags, maybe something sweet, took a bite and chewed quietly. Then she picked up another, turned toward you and hesitated for half a second before holding it up between her fingers and moved it near your mouth.

“Open, oppa.”

You took a quick glance at her, a small smile forming.

“What happened to being shy?”

“I’m still shy.” she mumbled, the blush on her cheeks gave her away. “Just something for you… since you took pictures for me.”

You leaned in slightly, still focused on the road but let her feed you the piece.

“You didn’t even hesitate, oppa.” she said, embarrassed but now grinning. 

“Didn’t want to waste the moment.”

She shook her head, holding in a laugh and fed you another, less hesitation this time. The car was filled with soft music and silence that didn’t need fixing. It was like that for a while - her snacking slowly, you driving. You pulled off the main road, followed the slope down toward a quieter part of the riverbank - not far from Mangwon, but far enough to feel private. The lights of the city blinked gently across the water, the bridges in the distance humming with movement, none of it felt loud. 

You parked, got out and opened her door before she even reached for the handle. Still in your jacket, bouquet in one hand, she followed you to a bench that sat not too far away. She sat first, pulling your jacket tighter around her. You sat down beside her. For a while, the two of you just looked at the view. Faint ripple on the river, bridge lights, Seoul at night. Then without a word, Wonyoung leaned over. Her head rested gently on your shoulder. She let out a quiet sigh, like something in her chest had finally been released. You didn’t move and just let her be.

Life hasn’t felt this peaceful in a while.

A few seconds passed before she spoke, something uncertain in her voice.

“I haven’t done this before, oppa.”

You glanced at her, but didn’t interrupt. 

“Like… let someone in this far. This fast.”

Her voice didn’t tremble, but it was careful.

“I know I come off as confident but… most of the time, I’m also just trying to keep up with myself.”

You nodded, slow and steady, enough to let her know you heard everything.

“But tonight… I didn’t feel like I had to try so hard.”

Those words hit you, fragile and real. You turned a bit so her head sat more comfortably against you. Then you spoke, voice low and warm, disrupting the peaceful silence.

“You told me that that night in Hong Kong too, you know.”

You felt her shift a little, just enough for you to hear the breath she let out.

“Told you what, oppa?”

“Everything you just said. And that I better gain your trust.”

You glanced down at her.

“You were a bit drunk. Maybe a bit bossy and territorial.”

Wonyoung then let out a small gasp, pulling back to look at you. Her expression was somewhere between embarrassment and playful outrage.

“I was not territorial.”

“You pinched me when you saw that picture.” you raised an eyebrow.

“That’s because you looked way too comfortable next to those girls.” she muttered, lips forming a pout.

“So you admit you were jealous.”

“I was a little tipsy.” she countered, voice smaller now.

“Still cute, Wonyoung-ah.” 

She went quiet after that - maybe not because she didn’t have anything to say, but because she didn’t want to ruin the way her heart fluttered in the moment. So she leaned back on your shoulder again. No arguing. No denying. Just staying close. 

A breeze passed by, rustling the trees behind you. Neither of you moved.

“Oppa…” her voice was soft, hesitant. You turned to glance down at her.

“I’m here.”

She stayed leaning against you, fingers fiddling with the bouquet and the cuff your jacket draped over her.

“Do you… want to come in for a bit later?” she said slowly. “My house. Like… after this.”

You blinked, surprised. Not because you couldn’t hear what she said, but because you didn’t expect her to say it. Wonyoung straightened, clearly aware of your silence and cleared her throat before clarifying.

“I was going to make some tea. And I wanted to show you some pictures of that place for the floral studio we asked you to help design. I  saved them on my iPad.”

After a short pause.

“But don’t get the wrong idea, okay oppa?”

“What kind of idea?” you asked carefully, fully understanding what she said.

“I’m not… like that. I’m not easy or anything.” she said, cheeks flushing as the words tumbled out. 

“So don’t even think of taking advantage of me, oppa.”

You watched her for a moment, then let out the smallest breath of a smile - not amused but warm. 

“I wasn’t going to.”

Wonyoung looked away, embarrassed, but you kept your tone calm.

“I wasn’t going to, Wonyoung-ah. I don’t think that about you.”

“If you’re inviting me in just to make me tea and show me pictures, I’ll come in for exactly that. Nothing more.”

Her eyes met yours, lingering for a bit longer. Then she exhaled, soft and steady. 

“Okay.”

“Okay.” you repeated.

She smiled, the tension in her shoulder easing just a little before leaning into your shoulder again.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The moment you stepped inside, her apartment looked exactly like her. Soft lighting, muted pastels and little touches of elegance everywhere. Glass vases, nice curtains, fresh flowers. It wasn’t all too much, you could easily tell Wonyoung came from money. Everything here was quietly tasteful. Carefully arranged and effortless in the way expensive things often are. Wonyoung slipped off her shoes and gestured for you to do the same, then walked further inside like she’d only just remembered you were still following her.

“Oh, you can sit there oppa.” she said, turning to you with a smile. “I’ll make us tea.”

She refused your help, waving you off with a confidence that left no room for argument. So you sat, letting yourself take in the space while she moved around the kitchen. She looked comfortable in her own home, and somehow, you felt the same too.

When she brought the tea over - floral, lightly sweet - she settled beside you and pulled out her iPad. The conversation turned to the floral studio. She showed you photos of the space she had her eyes on, a ground floor unit tucked in a street in Yeonnam-dong with great natural lighting. 

“So… I talked with Yena-unnie and Hyewon-unnie a lot about this.” she said, scrolling through the photos. 

You nodded, listening as she showed you the pictures. She was right, it had potential. You started explaining gently. What parts could be kept as is, what needed reinforcing, how you could utilize lighting, material balances… Not showing off, just answering her hopes with quiet precision. At some point, she stopped answering and just watched you talk, pretending to sip her tea.

“You really know your stuff, oppa.” she said, almost to herself.

You looked up at her. She blinked and glanced down at her tea like she hadn’t meant to say it out loud. You laughed.

“I mean, I’m legit.”

She let out a soft laugh, but the look in her eyes lingered, a mix of admiration and something warmer you two didn’t have words for yet. You took a sip of tea then set the cup down.

“But again, we have to visit the place soon. I have to take a closer look. And I have to hear more from you, Yena and Hyewon too. Everything you guys want. How you guys want me to design..”

Wonyoung perked up slightly, thoughtful.

“Do you have time tomorrow morning, oppa?”

You thought for a bit and nodded.

“I can make it work.”

She smiled, her eyes curving softly, fingers playing with the rim of her cup.

“Then… pick me up tomorrow? We can grab breakfast first. Just the two of us.”

I would love to.

Then she added, almost as an afterthought.

“After that, we’ll swing by to get Yena-unnie and Hyewon-unnie. Then we can visit the place together.”

You smiled back at her, trying not to look too eager.

“Sounds great.”

And just like that, the night that had started with nerves and soft hesitation now had a quiet promise in it. For tomorrow, and hopefully more after that. 

Wonyoung leaned back slightly, stretching her arms and hugging one knee to her chest.

“So, architect-nim…” she tilted her head.

“What do you think about my house?”

You glanced around again.

“It looks just like you. Warm. Elegant. Not trying too hard but… unforgettable.”

She smiled, like she hadn’t expected you to say that but was glad you did. A few minutes later, you stood at the door while she walked you out, still wrapped in your jacket. She handed it back reluctantly, her fingers lingering on the sleeves just a little longer than they needed to.

“Thanks for tonight, oppa.”

“Thank you.” you said. “For trusting me. And for the tea.”

“Pick me up tomorrow?”

You nodded.

“Bright and early.”

You were about to step out when she reached for your arm, pulling you back just a step. She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek without any warning.

“That one’s for dinner.” she said quietly.

Before you could react, she kissed your other cheek, light and warm.

“That one’s for the flowers.”

You froze, not knowing what to say now. And that was when she kissed you one last time, just a little longer, a little closer to the corner of your mouth.

“And that one,” she whispered, lips still close. “...maybe just because I felt like it.”

You swallowed, your heart doing something ridiculous in your chest. Your eyes flickered to her lips, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned in. Not too fast, just carefully, like asking her but without words. But before your lips could meet hers, she smiled. 

Soft. Knowing. Mischievous. She lifted her hand and placed a finger over your mouth.

“Not yet, oppa.” she murmured.

“Not yet.”

You let out a breath, cheeks blazing before nodding.

“Umm, okay. I’m sorry.”

Wonyoung let out a quiet laugh, not mocking, just sweet.

“You’re cute when you’re shy, oppa.”

Fuck.

“You kissed me like that… What was I supposed to do?” you rubbed the back of your neck, trying to recover.

“Take it like a man.” she teased, eyes twinkling. 

“And wait your turn.”

You let out a soft laugh. This time, she stepped back with a softer smile and waved.

“Good night, oppa. Dream of me.”

You smiled, still a little dazed.

“Good night.”

As the door closed gently behind you, you stood there for a second. Hands in your pockets, hearts still not quite steady. 

Yeah, I will dream of you.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

You didn’t even remember the drive back. By the time you stepped into your apartment, everything felt a little surreal. The door clicked shut behind you, and you barely managed to kick off your shoes before walking to the living room and crashing down face first onto the couch. A laugh escaped your lips. In the best way possible. Your jacket still smelled like her shampoo… or is it her perfume? You turned your face into the pillow, grinning like an idiot. You hadn’t felt like this - this stupidly happy feeling - in a long time. Just then, your phone buzzed where it had slipped out of your pocket onto the couch.

[워녕이녕이🐰]

are u back home safe, oppa?

[You]

i just got in

collapsed straight onto the couch ㅋㅋ

[워녕이녕이🐰]

ㅎㅎㅎ i knew it

don’t fall asleep in your jacket

[You]

i might just do that now that you mentioned it

it still smelled like you

[워녕이녕이🐰]

…creepy

but kinda cute 

i’ll allow it

You laughed to yourself.

[You]

what about you? no regrets inviting me in?

[워녕이녕이🐰]

no regrets 

i made great tea

you were…

decent

[You]

excuse me? just decent?

[워녕이녕이🐰]

okay fine, oppa

you were better than the tea >.<

[You]

i’ll take that as high praise

[워녕이녕이🐰]

u should, oppa

no man gets praised like that from the jang wonyoung

also… i liked how you talked about the floral studio

you sounded so cool

You stared at that one a little longer than you meant to. 

[You]

you’re gonna kill me

[워녕이녕이🐰]

ㅋㅋㅋ that’s the goal

don’t get cocky tho

[You]

i’ll keep my ego in check

just in case the jang wonyoung wants to keep inviting me in

[워녕이녕이🐰]

hmm… maybe

but don’t get any wrong ideas, oppa

[You]

no weird thoughts, young miss

just excited for breakfast with you

[워녕이녕이🐰]

you text like an old man ㅋㅋㅋ

but good answer

now sleep, oppa. u have been working hard

[You]

you too

sweet dreams, wonyoung-ah

[워녕이녕이🐰]

dream of me 🐰

You locked your phone, lips still curved up, staring at the ceiling like the world was finally spinning in the right direction. And yeah… maybe you would.

Then, the doorbell rang. The sound echoed through your apartment, too sharp for this hour. You glanced at the clock.

12:47AM.

Who the fuck comes to my house at this time?

Your brows furrowed as you pushed yourself off the couch and walked slowly toward the door. No one ever visited this late - unannounced. You pressed the button on the panel, and the screen lit up. 

A figure.

Standing under the light.

Disheveled. Crying. Wobbly. 

It took you a few seconds to recognize her.

Yu Jimin

She looked like she had just stepped off a runway. Or maybe out of a club. The black mini dress clung to her frame, sleek, modern, expensive. Her heels were high, too high for how unsteady she stood. Her designer bag dangled loosely from her hand, like she forgot she was holding it. Her long hair with waves were a little messy, strands sticking slightly to her cheeks. Her makeup started to smudge at the corner of her eyes. From crying too much. 

She was stunning. And utterly wrecked. For a second… you forgot how to breathe. Staring at the screen, your heart pounded for all the wrong reasons. Jimin looked like a ghost of herself.

“Please open the door for me, oppa… I can’t take it anymore.”

You hesitated. She sounded so broken. Familiar. Small. Once yours. And maybe you still knew that version of her. With a sigh, you opened the door. When you opened the door, she stood there, eyes welling. Before you could say anything a single word, she stepped in and kissed you. Hard.

Her mouth crashed against yours with all force of desperation - hot, messy, tongue. Her hands clutched your collar like she was holding on for her life. It took you a second to even register what was happening. Then your hands came up, pushing her back firmly, not violent.

“Jimin-ah!” you gasped, stepping away.

“What are you doing?”

She stood there, her face crumbling.

“I miss you, oppa.” she said through a sob. 

“I made a mistake… I still love you…”

All you could think about was the text on your phone. The warmth that was still lingering on your jacket. The girl who made you feel like tomorrow was something that was worth looking forward to again. And it wasn’t Yu Jimin. Not anymore. Jimin’s voice cracked, her knees then buckled. She dropped to the floor, arms wrapping around your waist as she collapsed into sobs. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

You froze, standing there completely caught off guard. The person clinging to you now wasn’t the Jimin you remembered. Not the confident, bubbly girl you once knew.

“I’m so sorry, oppa…”

This version of Jimin was unraveling. Suffocating on her own guilt.

“Please, I can’t do this anymore.” she sobbed. 

“Everything is so hard without you in my life. I thought I could move on easily but I can’t. I can’t…”

You closed the door behind her and lowered yourself, crouching in front of her. Carefully. Cautiously.

“Jimin… you need to breathe, okay?”

She clung to you tighter, burying her face into your jacket.

“I thought you’d wait for me to come back…”

You gently pried her arms from around your waist, guiding her to sit properly on the floor. Her hands were still shaking. You didn’t have the heart to yell. But you couldn’t pretend that nothing had changed. And now her crying didn’t undo the silence she left you in back then. It also didn’t erase the girl who had kissed your cheeks three times just an hour earlier and told you to dream of her. Then, your phone buzzed on the table across the room. You didn’t look at it.

“Jimin-ah… let me get you some water, okay?”

Before you could stand, Jimin’s head tilted slightly, her nose scrunching slightly - that signature nose scrunch always did something to you back then. She then leaned in closer, eyes narrowing - sharp and suspicious. She sniffed the collar of your jacket that you hadn’t taken off yet. The same one Wonyoung had spent over an hour curled against.

“What is that smell?” her voice dropped, confused.

“What are you talking about?”

She pulled back, hands brushing against your cheeks, stopping mid motion. Her fingers touched something. She stared at you. Her expression changed. She wiped near the corner of your lips with her thumb, then again on both sides of your cheeks. Her mouth trembled.

“Oppa… you’ve been with someone, haven’t you?”

The way she said it sounded like a fact, not a question. She then stood abruptly, anger now twisting with grief.

“Is that why you wouldn’t kiss me back?”

“That’s why you looked at me like I was a stranger?!”

“Jimin-ah…” you stood quickly, hands raised trying to deescalate the situation.

“Who is she?” she shouted, grabbing your wrist. 

“Who the hell is that girl?!”

“Stop, Jimin. Calm down!”

“Answer me!!”

She pulled you toward her by your collar, eyes wild, hands trembling. You stared at her, breathing hard. The perfume, the kiss, the tears, the yelling - this wasn’t the Jimin you knew and loved. This felt like someone, not her. This was something else.  Her grip on your collar only got tighter.

“Who is that bitch?” she hissed through her teeth.

“I’m gonna make you forget her, oppa. I’ll make you feel better than that bitch ever could.”

You recoiled, out of fear and disbelief.

“Jimin-ah” your voice firm. “Don’t say things like that.”

She didn’t stop. Her words came out like knives, rage coating every single syllable. Jealousy. Regret. Anger. They all came crashing down at once. 

“You are mine, oppa.” she spat.

“Mine, Han Haejoon. How can you be holding someone else already? Didn’t you beg me to stay that day, oppa?”

You shook your head and gently pulled your arms from her grasp.

 “You ended it.”

“And I’m back now!!!”

“Too late.”

You finished her. You hadn’t meant to sound so final. But maybe it needed to be. For a moment, Jimin just stood there. Her breathing slowed, uneven. Maybe she realized her outburst wasn’t working the way she wanted. She took a step closer, her tone now shifting into something fragile, almost broken.

“I don’t want to go home, oppa.”

You didn’t answer. She blinked up at you, eyes glassy again, voice trembling in the way that she knew would make you weak.

“You know I can’t sleep alone when I’m like this.”

That was low. Jimin knew damn well it was. 

“Let me stay, oppa… just for tonight. I’ll be quiet. I just need someone.”

You hesitated, and she knew she had you on the spot. Her hands brush your arm, almost tender. 

“I know you, oppa. I know that part of you that can’t leave someone crying at your door.”

You shut your eyes, jaw tense.

“Jimin…”

But then, her expression darken again - a dark side beneath the sweetness.

“She kissed you, didn’t she?”

You opened your mouth to calm her down but she cut you with a scoff.

“That fucking bitch. I can smell her on you. See her on you.”

And her voice transitioned into the sweet Jimin.

“But you still open the door for me, oppa. That must mean something.”

You let out a long breath, dragging a hand through your hair.

“You can sleep in my room. I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

“I’ll pay for your trip home tomorrow morning… And you have to leave early since I have plans.”

She blinked at you again. And just like that, the tears returned. Or at least, the sound of them. Her face contorted with sorrow, shoulders trembling.

“You’re not even going to hold me?” she whispered, voice cracking.

“Not even tonight?”

You studied Jimin carefully. The crying… it sounded real. But you weren’t sure. That was the worst part. Somehow it felt like she was trying to blur the line between real pain and performance. Still, something inside you clenched just a little, maybe that soft spot she used to lean on.

“You should shower.”

“What?”

“You smell like alcohol. I’ll get you something clean to wear. While you’re in there, I’ll make you something to help with the hangover.”

She wiped under her eyes slowly. Her lashes were wet but her expression didn’t match.

“After that, you sleep. In the bed. Alone.”

She hesitated, clearly not expecting that tone. Then she finally gave you a nod, almost like a child being scolded.

“Okay…”

You turned and walked toward your room to grab an old hoodie and sweats for her. The soft click of the bathroom door echoed through the still apartment, followed by running water. You stood at your closet, staring at the folded clothes in your hand. You felt heavy, for reasons you weren’t sure. Jimin knew your weaknesses, too well. You turned and headed back out to the bathroom, knocking once.

“Jimin-ah, I’m leaving the clothes by the door, okay?”

No answer. 

“I’m leaving them by the door.”

Still nothing. You exhaled and leaned down. Just as the door cracked open with a hiss of steam, Jimin stepped out. She hadn’t showered. Her skin was dry. Her hair untouched. Not a hint of shampoo or soap.

And worse, she wasn’t dressed. She was… naked. Nothing on her but the trembling look in her eyes.

“I couldn’t find the towel…” she whispered. 

You knew she was clearly lying, your hands still holding out the clothes like they were some kind of shield between you and her.

“Jimin.”

She stepped closer.

“Don’t you miss me, oppa? Just a little?”

She stepped closer, her arms wrapped around your waist from the front, pressing her body against yours. Her… breasts pressed into your lower chest, like muscle memory. Then she nestled her head under your jaw.

“We used to sleep like this, oppa.” she murmured, voice soft and slow.

“You said I made you feel peaceful.”

Her hands slipped around your back, fingers playing with your jacket like she still knew how to disarm you. You didn’t move for a second. But only for a second. You reached down and gently took her wrist, unwrapping her hold from you firmly.

“Look at me, Jimin-ah.”

She looked at you, eyes wide - part pleading, part daring.

“Don’t do this.” you said. “We are over.” She swallowed hard. Her lips quivered. 

“You’re still kind, oppa.” 

“I am. That’s why I’m asking you to shower. I’ll make something warm for you. Eat, rest. You’ll go home in the morning. You’re too drunk.”

Jimin stood there, breathing softly, looking for a crack in you - maybe the old version of you that would take her back instantly. But you stayed calm, steady. Still holding her wrists. Eventually, she pulled her hands back.

“Okay. I’ll shower…” she said, voice small.

Jimin slowly stepped back, turning toward the bathroom with your old clothes. After the door finally clicked, you stood there for a while - wondering what had happened to her. It had been over a month since things ended between you two. The heaviness that she had started when she walked in hadn’t gone away, if anything, it grew heavier. 

Was she always this manipulative? Even back then?

After she finished showering, she sat at the kitchen table with damp hair and quietly ate the warm soup you made. Between spoonfuls, she tried again. Subtle touches, long stares, soft signs and memories that meant to wear you down. But you didn’t respond the way she wanted, and after enough gentle but firm urging, she finally relented and made her way into your bedroom - silent, curling up in your bed like it still belonged to her, at least for tonight.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

In the middle of the night, long after the apartment had gone dead quiet, Jimin crept out of your room, her steps ghostlike on the floor. You were fast asleep on the couch, one arm over your chest, blanket half slipped down. She crouched beside you slowly, eyes scanning your face. Her fingers reached out, brushing out along your jaw, your cheekbone, then finally your lips - pausing there a bit too long. Then she leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to your mouth like she was reclaiming something, whispering against your skin.

“I’ll get you back, oppa. You’ll see.”

Just then, your phone buzzed on the floor beside you. Jimin’s eyes flicked down. The screen lit up with a name that made her freeze. 

[워녕이녕이🐰]

Her breath hitched. That name. That ridiculous emoji. Her fingers curled into fists before she could stop herself. Her lips that were still close to you now twisted into something tight. 

So that was the girl that had taken her place. 

The one you were smiling at now. Texting late. Dreaming about. Her heart pounded from rage, not heartbreak. Her gaze found its way back to you - dead asleep, peaceful, unaware, still wearing that scent from a girl named Wonyoung, not her.

This wasn’t about missing you anymore. 

Now it was about winning you back. 

No matter what.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

uhhh... yayy! let me know what u guys think about this? thank you for the support. i didn't know why but making karina an obsessive ex suddenly came up in my mind. i think it suits her in this story, also... crazy ex karina is hot...

[ameriize]

sub!armin x dom!reader

“i said i was sorry baby. i’m sorry i’m so sorry! so f-fuck please slow down!”, he whimpers.

you’d been going at it for almost two hours now. milking all his cum out of him. he deserves to be drained for everything he’s worth. to be fucked to oblivion. for his brain to be turned into mush. for him to be crying and whining at the pace you’d been riding him at - begging and pleading for you to stop.

maybe if he hadn’t engaged in such ‘lovely’ conversation (as you had put it) with that cute cafe worker, who was so clearly smitten by his useless jokes and great smile, he wouldn’t be here, having his spent, aching dick being ridden for what felt like eternity.

“sorry doesn’t cut it ‘min. i told you to stop flirting with girls and you didn’t wanna listen.”

you knew he wasn’t actually flirting but it sure looked like it. and that’s enough for you.

“baby fuck i-i told you i wasn’t flirting. please! wh-what—nghhh oh fuck… what else can i do to make it up to you? baby i can’t handle you riding me like this anymore!”, he sobs out, his hands clawing and tapping at your wrists on his shoulders.

then you get a brilliant idea.

“okay. then fuck me from the back. and don’t even think of stopping those hips without me telling you to.”, you demand, lifting yourself off him.

he’s confused by this change of plans from you. normally you would’ve told him to shut up and take it but now you’re asking him to fuck you? where he basically has full control? maybe this is his chance to dom you-

you pull out a black spiked collar with a chain attached.

“put this on.”, you say, in a low, dark tone. shivers wave throughout his body as he looks at you then down to the collar.

“wh-what? i’m not putting that on. no way.”, he refuses, head shaking from side to side. what did you think he was? he’s not some sort of pet.

“it wasn’t a suggestion, arlert. put. it. on.”, you spit, jerking the collar towards him.

again, he looks at you. then down to the collar. disbelief spreads across his face. you’re actually being serious.

seeing as he’s still not comprehending your order, you let out a slightly frustrated sigh.

“did you seriously think i was just gonna let you fuck me wild, on your terms?”, you begin. you move closer to him, “you belong to me ‘min. so put on this fucking collar and get your dick in me. don’t make me tell you again.”

his face is stunned, though his stare kept on yours. you trail your eyes down and take in his leaking, twitching dick. you let out a small laugh.

“what a slut. acting as if you don’t like being under my control, yet your own body is betraying you.”

now armin knew he wasn’t the most dominant in bed. but it was never an issue for him. but what he didn’t expect was for him to be this aroused by your sudden, strong assertiveness. he can’t understand why his dick is so hard to this side of you?

you grab a fistful of his hair, earning the tiniest whimper from him, circle his head around slowly, then face him back and closer to you. there’s nothing but a breath between you two.

“i know you loved every minute of me milking you with no mercy. you love being my bitch. my whore. my pet. isn’t that right?”

he gives you a slow nod, starting to feel himself descend into complete submissiveness to you.

“and you want me to control you with this collar, don’t you?”

he gives another nod. but that’s not enough for you now.

“use your words minnie.”, your voice smooth and sultry. enough to make him melt.

“y-yes. i want you to control me.”

“now say, please control me.”, you beckon.

“p-please… control me.”, he repeats back.

“please make me your pet.”

“please make me your pet.”

“and…please punish me. master.”

“please punish me…”, he trails off, letting out a deep breath and looking down.

“say it whore.”, your grip tightens in his hair, and he winces. that name goes straight to his dick. he looks up at you again, pleadingly.

“please fuck me…master.”

“as you wish, baby.”, you say, with a lick of your lips.

seizing total control as armin thrusts his hips in time with the pull of your hands on the chain, felt nothing more of pure euphoria.

maybe next time, he’ll find his hands accidentally on the hands of that cute cafe worker.

[pankowcrumbs]

Hi! Can I please request a Will Poulter one shot where he surprises actress reader on her birthday? Maybe he is scheduled to be away for movie promo and she’s on set when he visits? Just an idea! Love your writing! Thank you!

MasterList

Will Poulter Masterlist

I’ve never really cared for birthdays.

Maybe it’s the awkward singing. Or the way people expect you to beam from sunrise to sunset. Or maybe it’s just because, more often than not, something goes wrong. Rain on the day of a garden party. A forgotten cake. One year, I broke my ankle stepping off a curb trying to dodge a pigeon.

So, when this year rolled around and the studio scheduled an intense shoot day right on my birthday, I took it as a sign to manage expectations. No fuss. No drama. Just work.

Will, of course, had apologised a dozen times over.

“I hate that I’m missing it,” he said, forehead resting against mine through the pixelated blur of FaceTime a few days ago. “If I could be there, I would. You know that.”

He was off somewhere doing promo I didn’t even know what country at this point. I’d given up keeping track of time zones. Sometimes I’d wake up to a good morning text. Sometimes a goodnight one. But always, always something. That was the kind of man he was.

So I smiled through the video call, nodded, and told him it was fine. That I understood. That we’d celebrate another day.

But I won’t lie when I woke up to grey clouds and a 5:00 a.m. call time, it stung a bit.

The set was buzzing in that usual organised chaos kind of way. Hair and makeup was its own little tornado, wardrobe had a rail full of costume changes lined up for me, and the director was already shouting about blocking before I’d even had my second coffee.

“Happy birthday!” Ellie, my makeup artist, said as I sat in the chair, voice bright. “Any special plans after wrap?”

I gave a weak smile. “Honestly? Probably just washing fake blood out of my hair and sleeping for twelve hours.”

She frowned. “That’s grim.”

“Fitting, though. This whole film’s grim.”

She laughed, but I could tell she was watching me like she knew I wasn’t quite myself. I didn’t like how obvious it must’ve been.

I got through the morning scenes fine. I was a professional. I hit my marks, said my lines, even mustered a joke or two between takes. But underneath it all, there was a quiet ache. One I couldn’t shake.

It was just past 4:00 p.m. when it happened.

We were filming a heavy dialogue scene the kind that demanded full emotional availability, like your heart was an open wound on camera. I’d just finished a take that had the director nodding in approval when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

“Y/n,” the PA said, eyes wide. “Can you come with me for a second?”

“Is something wrong?”

“No. Um. Just… come.”

Now, that’s never not suspicious. But I followed, wiping fake tears from my cheeks, confused and exhausted.

We walked down a side corridor that led to one of the smaller sets — the old cafe built for a flashback scene that we hadn’t used in weeks. My boots echoed against the floor. My chest felt weirdly tight.

And then I saw it.

The lights were low, but warm. A string of fairy lights had been lazily thrown up across the beams. There was a table in the middle of the set with two takeaway cups and a small cake chocolate, clearly homemade. And standing behind it, in a black hoodie, was Will.

My heart stopped.

He smiled wide, sheepish, a little nervous.

“Surprise.”

I blinked, genuinely stunned. “Are you? Are you real?”

He opened his arms, and it was only when I crashed into his chest that I realised I was crying. A soft, messy kind of crying the kind that leaks out when someone shows up just when you thought no one would.

“I thought you were in Berlin,” I whispered, gripping his jumper like he might disappear.

“I was,” he murmured into my hair. “Took a red-eye. Lied to your producer. Bribed your first AD.”

I laughed through the tears, pulling back enough to look up at him. “You sneaky, beautiful man.”

“You’ve had a hard day.”

“You knew I was going to have a hard day.”

He kissed my forehead. “Course I did. It’s your birthday and you’re covered in blood and trauma. That’s no way to celebrate.”

He led me to the little table and handed me one of the cups. Tea. Perfectly brewed. Of course he remembered how I take it.

“You did all this?” I asked, wiping my eyes.

He shrugged, bashful. “Ellie helped. Your wardrobe girl distracted you. Everyone’s been in on it.”

“Unbelievable.”

He looked at me for a moment, then gently said, “I know I couldn’t be there when you woke up. But I didn’t want the whole day to pass without seeing your face in person. Without telling you how proud I am of you. Of how hard you work. Of how much I love you.”

I bit my lip, trying not to cry again. “You really flew across countries for a hug?”

He reached out, tugging me into his arms again. “Not just any hug. Your hug.”

We sat on that fake cafe set for a while. He fed me a forkful of lopsided cake. I told him about the horrible morning. He told me about a travel delay and the terrible man next to him on the plane who snored like a dying bear.

Eventually, I curled into his side, warm and calm in a way I hadn’t been all day.

“I’m sorry I tried to pretend it didn’t matter,” I murmured. “I do care. I just didn’t want to seem dramatic.”

“You’re allowed to want things,” he said gently. “You’re allowed to want me there.”

“You always make me feel like I’m allowed to feel things,” I whispered.

“That’s the point, May.”

There it was. The nickname he only used when things felt especially tender.

“I’ve got to leave again tomorrow morning,” he admitted after a while, brushing my knuckles with his thumb. “But I didn’t want you to think, even for a second, that I wasn’t thinking of you. That I’d forgotten. Or that I wouldn’t move mountains to see you, even just for an hour.”

I sat up enough to kiss him properly then slow and deep and grateful.

“I love you,” I said against his lips. “You’re the best scene all day.”

By the time we returned to the main set, my cheeks were sore from smiling.

The crew pretended not to notice how red my eyes were. Ellie winked.

The director gave me a thumbs up and said, “Right then, Miss Birthday Girl. Let’s make some magic.”

And with Will watching just off camera, arms folded, eyes full of nothing but pride I did.

[dreamingofep]

One Short Day ✨🤍🎆

Prompt: Elvis surprises with a trip to the happiest place on earth 🏰✨

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Hi there! 👋🏻 I’ve had this one in the drafts unfinished for sooooooo long but I finally finished it! I thought this was super cute! Just cute and fluffy🤭 Now I want to go to Disneyland for my birthday 🤍

✨

You were curled up on his chest, stirring from your restful sleep. His arms were wrapped around you, holding you tight against him. One arm resting around your waist and the other playing with your hair, softly caressing you. You feel him kiss your head and hum contently.

“Time to wake up darlin’. Happy birthday,” his deep, gruff voice coos in your ear.

You grunt in protest, not wanting to leave your bed.

“Five minutes please,” you grumble, holding onto tighter.

He hums amused and rubs your back softly.

“I have to spoil my girl on her birthday. And that requires her to get out of my bed,” he teases.

“You could keep me in this bed, I wouldn’t mind,” you chuckle.

“Ohh I bet you’d love that, but I have somewhere to take you. So I need you to get dressed and get ready for your day.”

You finally flutter your eyes open and tilt your head back to look at him. God, he was gorgeous. Even first thing in the morning, he was perfect. His hair was tousled by his sleep and fell across his forehead in the most attractive way. His beautiful blue eyes were still heavy with sleep but looked at you like you were the most beautiful girl in the world.

“Where are we going?” You prod.

“I want to keep it a surprise. Just put something on and we’ll go,” he says kissing your forehead. You close your eyes and relish the way he makes you feel. He was always so soft and loving with you.

“Okay, I’ll get ready.”

You sifted through your closet here at the Bel Air house. You loved this house. It was the epitome of California living. It was high up on this hill out looking all of Los Angeles. It was so quiet and peaceful up here. Elvis brought you out here since he has a month free after shooting his latest film. You were so excited to spend some quality time with him.

Today was your twenty-sixth birthday, and there was no one else you wanted to spend your day with but Elvis. You didn’t have the faintest clue where he was taking you. You didn’t know if it was driving distance or if you were going to get on a plane and be in a different state in a few hours. Either way, you were excited to spend it with him. You decided to wear a cute powder blue sundress, your favorite color. You added some mesh white gloves and a cute little clutch to complete the outfit.

You met Elvis in the living room and of course, he looked dashing. He wore black pants and a pale blue button-up too. He has the cutest smile on his face when he sees you strut in.

“Oh look at you! Lookin’ beautiful darlin’. Seems like we had the same idea of wearin’ blue,” he quips, pulling you into his arms. You wrap your arms around his torso and snicker at him.

“I love blue on you. It brings out your eyes,” you say lovingly.

“It looks even better on you honey. So beautiful,” he hums, placing the softest kiss on your lips.

“Are you ready to go?” He asks.

“Yes, I’m ready.”

*

Elvis had a lot of nice cars but this Cadillac was your favorite. The white leather seats felt like ultimate luxury and the hum of the motor roared when it was on the freeway. Elvis drove and you sat on the passenger side with your hand intertwined with his on his lap. He’d gently rub the back of your hand with his thumb and occasionally look over at you.

You weren’t in California very often and were in awe of the buildings and the beautiful blue skies with palm trees as far as the eye can see. You were getting excited to see where he was taking you. You squeezed his hand tightly and he looked over at you.

“Can I have a hint where we’re going?” You say excitedly.

“Nope,” he says with a smile on his face, shaking his head.

“Ugh, please! Just one hint,” you tell him.

“Then it’ll ruin the surprise!”

“Are we almost there then?” You ask.

“Mmm… almost. Probably another half hour.”

You let some silence lull between you two and lean your head on his arm.

“Have I ever been here before?”

“You don’t quit do you,” he teases, “No, you’ve never been here, but it’s somewhere you’ve always wanted to go and never stop talking about.”

You look at him cautiously, not sure if he’s joking. There’s one place you’ve been dying to go but haven’t had the time to do it.

“Okay don’t mess around, I know it’s not Disneyland.” You say nonchalantly.

He looks over at you and has the biggest smile on his face. You gasp, shocked by the look on his face.

“Wait, are you serious!? Oh my gosh, Elvis really?” You say excitedly.

“Yes! So much for the surprise but yes, I needed to take you for your birthday.”

“Oh my god Elvis! I’m so happy! Thank you I can’t believe it. This is amazing!” You say overjoyed. You lean over and place a kiss on his cheek. He still had a big smile on your face, happy to see your reaction to it all.

Something sparked your concern though. It was something that kind of made you hesitate to ask him to take you in the first place.

“Elvis… the crowds… I don’t want it to be too overwhelming with people coming up to you.”

“I don’t mind darlin’. As long as I’m with you, nothing is going to bother me. It’s your day, I want you to have the most fun.”

Your heart filled with joy and you squeezed his hand tight again.

*

You both got to the main gates and feel so giddy. You see the Mickey Mouse silhouette in the flowers just outside the main entrance. Elvis brought a Polaroid camera and snapped a picture of you in front of the flowers. He grabbed your hand and took you down the cobblestone Main Street.

“You tell me where you want to go,” he says sweetly.

“Ahh everywhere! I need to go on every ride!” You say excitedly.

“Of course honey, where do you want to start?”

You pull him quickly to the first ride you see; The Jungle Cruise ride. Every single thing was amazing to you. You have never been so happy getting to walk through Disneyland with Elvis. A few people came up to him to ask for his autograph but he didn’t mind it. Most everyone else left him alone as you walked around the park together.

Seeing Sleeping Beauty’s castle as you walked down Main Street made you feel like an awestruck girl. It was huge and so beautifully decorated from the outside. Elvis took a photo of you in front of it and someone was kind enough to take a picture of both of you in front of it. It was the most fun you’ve had in the longest time. He made it known that it was your birthday so every shop and restaurant you two stopped in, he made sure they gave you the five-star treatment.

You were given the cutest sash that said, ‘it’s my birthday,’ on it, and were offered a tiara too. You couldn’t refuse feeling like a princess for a day. On a normal day, you would have hated the extra attention, but it was your birthday and this was so sweet of him to do. Everywhere you went in the park was filled with the kindest people and made you feel so special. Elvis rode every ride with you, even the teacups. He looked like he was having a great time too and that made you even happier.

As the day wound down and the stars were shining bright, he brought you back to the front of the castle. He stood behind you and held you tightly.

“How’s my beautiful queen?” He asks sweetly in your ear, adjusting the tiara on your head.

“Oh quite well, I suppose,” you say teasingly and turn around to face him.

“This was the best day I’ve ever had, thank you for taking me.”

“Good darlin’, I wanted to make it extra special,” he smiles, leaning down to give you a soft, tender kiss on your lips.

“Anywhere with you is perfect.” You hum. “What are we standing here for?”

His face lights up in surprise, “Oh you don’t know? Oh you’re in for a treat,” he says giddy.

He turns you around to face the castle. Suddenly the lights illuminating the castle dim and music roars. A flash of light hurls to the sky and explodes in a red fiery boom. You take in a breath, in awe of what you’re seeing. These were the most spectacular and beautiful fireworks you’ve ever seen.

Another flash of light rockets to the sky and green flecks of light dance in the sky. The sound of people’s oohs and awes surrounded you both by the beautiful sight. It couldn’t have been better than this. His hands were wrapped around your waist, holding you against him as the fireworks show continued. You would never forget this.

You twisted your body around and looked up at him, the sweetest smile lighting up his face.

“I love you,” you say over the crackle of the fireworks.

He looks down at you, and the sparkle of the green light sparkles in his eyes. He puts his hand on your cheek and gently pulls you closer to him.

“I love you, honey.” He leans down and kisses you soft and slow as fireworks explode behind you and in your heart for him.

✨

•

•

•

Tagging:

@neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@sillybookmarks @dkayfixates

@ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog.

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf@eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @dontwanttoputanything. @ohjustpeachy-

@elvisalltheway101@austinsmutler@kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley @iloveelvis @rimartin11@that-hotdog

@misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114

@raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777

@50sexyshadestashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

@sloppiest-of-jos @thisis-theway @gatheraheart @aphroditebaby-girl@faeolwen @eapep @ladelinee

@iloveelvisss @ccab @buglass @its2amlol

@peaceloveelvis @iloveelvisss

[ateotdwinchester]

ꨄ︎ nightmares

a/n: loved writing the other part so much that i almost straight away got an idea for a part 2!

part 2 of can’t save everyone

pairing: dean x reader

summary: it had been almost a month since the hunt went bad and since dean tried his best to comfort you. in that time your nightmares had gotten worse, so you decided it was finally time to really talk to him about what happened + a hint of feelings :3

warnings: mentions of death in relation to a previous hunt, nightmares

word count: 3.4k

✩ ✩ ✩

If it hadn’t been for the soft light emitting from the bathroom in this dingy little motel room, you would’ve been more frightened when you woke up from another nightmare.

As you sat up, your usual AC/DC shirt was sticking to your clammy back, your hair stuck to your forehead, cheeks flushed red.

The hum of the air conditioning unit was still going, the sound of the rain pattering against the window was very clear, and as you looked opposite the bathroom, you saw Sam sitting at the table, small light shining down on the lore book he was reading through.

He was looking at you.

Oh. He was looking at you.

“You alright?” Sam asked softly. “That’s the fourth time this week that you’ve woken up like that.”

Oddly, you just stared at him. Not blinking. Sam saw the way your eyes were darting around the room.

Only Sam was sitting at the table, the bathroom door was open slightly, meaning no one was inside. You looked to the empty bed next to yours, the sheets slightly messy from the previous nights sleep… but empty nevertheless.

“Where’s Dean?” You asked.

“He went to check on a lead,” Sam explained. “He should be done by now though, probably got distracted by the 24 hour diner next door.”

Just like that, you were getting out of bed. Sam becoming concerned the more you rushed around the room. All you were getting was your socks and shoes to quickly slip on.

You didn’t care that you were in your sleep clothes. Didn’t care that it was chilly outside, seeing as you only had shorts on other than your shirt.

All you cared about was finding Dean.

sam would’ve asked where you were going, or what was wrong, if you hadn’t left the motel room so fast. He didn’t have time to get a word in before the door closed behind you.

As soon as you stepped foot outside, the cool air hit your bare arms and legs causing you to shiver slightly, the drizzling rain making the temperature worse. Lucky for you, the diner was right next to the motel.

At least Sam was right, Dean’s Impala parked in one of the diagonal spots outside of the motel. The black paintwork shining in the moonlight. He was here, just at the diner next door. That’s the only place he could’ve been.

You walked to the diner, up the few steps that lead to the entrance, pushing the door open to be met with… cool air conditioning. You’d hoped it would be a little warmer inside.

The same as at the motel, your eyes darted around at an alarming speed, trying to find where Dean was sitting. Whether it be at the counter stools, a small table, or a booth by the window.

It was the latter.

He looked distracted. A slice of chocolate silk pie sitting on a plate in front of him, fork in hand as he prodded at the pie, not picking up any to eat.

You held your arms around yourself as you made your way over to his table. Even though he would never mind you sitting down with him, by the way he looked lost in thought, you felt the need to ask. He saw you though, eyes softening as soon as you got closer.

“Hey,” Your voice was quiet, but he heard you. “Can I sit? Or you want space?”

“Course you can sit,” he smiled, nodding to the opposite side of the booth. “Never have to ask, sweetheart.”

To his surprise, you hesitated. He thought you might rush out instead, going by the look on your face. He was thankful once you took a seat in front of him, settling into the soft leather seats.

“Thought you were sleeping?” Dean asked, finally eating a small mouthful of pie. “It’s late.”

“So, I’m meant to be sleeping while you’re out checking a lead and Sam’s up doing research?”

“You were exhausted today,” he placed his fork down. “From the lack of sleep you’ve been getting recently. So, yes, you should be sleeping while Sammy and I find some things out.”

He was right. You should’ve been sleeping. Should’ve been catching up on your missed sleep. But instead you woke up from a nightmare, one that caused you to leave the motel in a rush to find Dean here.

You went quiet. Not saying a word for a while. Dean continued to eat his pie as you sat pressed against the back of your seat. But he had a feeling that you didn’t just come here to sit in silence.

“Now, I’m just throwing something crazy out there,” he pushed his plate away once he was finished. “But I assume you didn’t come here to find me at three in the morning for nothing.”

You took a breath before deciding to speak, “I wanna talk about it,” you looked up at him. He frowned. “I wanna talk about that hunt, what happened… because…”

You cut yourself off, shaking your head, “I can’t sleep, I can’t hunt, I can’t focus on research, I’m going crazy, Dean.”

He could hear the pain and despair in your voice, ready to do anything it took to make sure you felt better. He hated that upset and tired look on your face.

“We can talk about it,” he shuffled, leaning his arms on the table to be closer to you. “I’m all ears.”

You nodded, Dean expected you to start talking. It’s almost as if you didn’t know how to explain what you’d been having nightmares about, how to tell him what happened in that house.

Just as Dean went to prompt you to start talking, the same waitress that served him earlier walked over, now smiling at you.

“Can I get you anything?” She asked, holding a pen and pad in her hands.

“No, I’m—“

“She’ll have a slice of banana cream pie,” Dean talked over you.

You looked at Dean, and then back to the waitress, “I’m good, really, I don’t want anything.”

“You’re having pie,” he was being very insistent. “Just do a small slice, thanks.”

The woman nodded at Dean, walking away to go and grab that pie. Meanwhile, you folded your arms, widening your eyes at him.

“What?” He shrugged. “Thought it might lift your spirits.”

You accepted it, thankful he even wanted to try to do anything to cheer you up. He had noticed how tired you looked though, and he knew some good pie would make you happier.

It only took a few minutes for the pie to be brought over, but you didn’t start eating right away, deciding you should talk a little first.

“Let me just get one thing straight,” Dean said as his phone buzzed on the table. A text prompting his next words. “You could’ve talked to Sammy, you know, where he was in the room with you. But you decided to find me instead?”

“Nice way of saying you want me to leave.”

“That’s not—“ Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t get smart with me, sweetheart.”

You did manage to laugh at that, and Dean smiled. He smiled at you laughing. Something else he wouldn’t admit out loud, he loved your laugh, it was like a sound made from heaven.

As you tried to gather your thoughts, you ate a couple of bites of the banana cream pie that Dean practically forced you to get. Not that you’d complain.

“I still remember it,” you fiddled with the fork in your hand. “The feeling of the demon’s strength over me.”

Dean knew not to speak yet, he knew this was you opening up to him about what you went through in that house before he got to you. And he was more than prepared to listen.

“It was uncomfortable,” there was no other way you could think to describe it. “And when it made me drop my gun… it felt like I had no control over my own body.”

You shook your head, placing your fork down as you leaned back against the booth chair again.

“I tried to fight it, I really did, but I couldn’t do anything,” you looked down into your lap, not daring to look at Dean. “The more I tried to fight it, the more the demon made it hurt.”

As you were about to continue, you suddenly noticed Dean standing up. You watched him, and he cautiously moved to sit down… directly next to you.

Legs touching. Or more, your leg touching the rough material of his jeans, his leather jacket pressing against your arm. It provided you with slight more warmth than you were feeling a moment ago.

You felt Dean’s arm around your shoulders instantly. It caused a feeling of comfort to spread through you, and you hoped that he didn’t notice any outward reaction you were having.

You lost your train of thought for a second. Stopping what you were saying. Dean took it as you thinking back to that day, instead of anything else.

“Take your time,” he gave your shoulder a soft squeeze.

Rushing to get back to where you were, you shook your head, “the demon, uh,” you paused, clearing your throat as your mind went back to the moment. “It forced me to watch, wouldn’t let me look away from it killing that girl. It’s all I thought about for weeks.”

Dean would’ve let you continue, but the past tense you were using confused him, “What you thought about?”

“Yea?”

“Aren’t you still thinking about it?” He asked. “That’s what’s causing the nightmares, isn’t it?”

You closed your eyes, realising you were going to have to come completely clean to Dean about how badly this demon had messed with your head. That watching a poor girl get killed wasn’t the worst of it.

Weirdly, you could feel your heart beginning to race. Your mind was thinking too hard about that moment, when the demon spoke to you, told you about your deepest fears.

You leaned forwards with your elbows on the table, hands running through your hair as tears welled up in your eyes.

“Hey, hey, don’t freak out on me here,” Dean placed his hand against your back, feeling the way you were heaving.

In a split second, Dean was turning your head to look at him. His thumb and forefinger against your chin. He saw the panicked look in your eyes.

“Just look at me,” Dean’s voice was harsh, but it was needed. “It’s just me… just us. Okay?”

It didn’t take long for the panic to leave your body once he said that. The soft look in his eyes a contrast to the sound of his voice. But he’d said that before, the last time he tried to comfort you.

You weren’t sure why, but once he let go of you, he slipped his leather jacket off of his arms. Pushing you gently to lean forwards so he could wrap it around your shoulders.

He smiled when he noticed you relaxing, the feeling of the warm jacket against your skin, especially knowing the warmth was from him, made you feel a lot calmer.

“There,” he made sure it covered you well enough. “That better?”

“Uh, yea, actually,” you nodded, feeling his arm rest over your shoulders again.

Dean glanced to the table, at your half eaten pie, “why don’t you finish that up,” he pushed the plate towards you. “Then we can get back to the motel and finish talking there.”

Then you said something he didn’t expect, “I don’t wanna talk about it in front of Sam.”

“What?” Dean furrowed his eyebrows. “Why not?”

You took a breath, “I don’t know, Dean,” you shrugged. “I just… I wanna talk to you. Please.”

He had no idea why you’d pick him to talk to about this over Sam. Sam had always been better at listening, better at being more sympathetic. Surely that’s what you needed right now.

Dean had no idea.

He agreed either way, “okay, yea, yea that’s fine.”

Before continuing, you decided to eat a few more bites of your pie. Perhaps a little too fast, bordering on stress eating. You pushed the plate away once you were done.

“The nightmares,” you started, leaning against Dean with how his arm was around you. “It did start with what I saw.”

“But…” he prompted.

“It’s not about that anymore,” you tucked your hair behind your ears. “It’s more that… the girl, she was my age, her two friends that got hurt first, they were you and Sam’s age.”

Dean listened, letting you speak uninterrupted to get all of your thoughts out.

“It made me think of us, that we hunt these demons. That girl… she had to watch her friends die before getting killed herself.”

“And now you think that’s gonna happen to us?” Dean tried to understand.

“The demon told me,” you revealed. You’d never mentioned that before. “While it held me there, it told me that the same would happen to you two, and it would be all my fault.”

Dean took a breath, you’d discussed demons before. Talked about the things they say to use it against you. But this was definitely getting to you.

“Demons lie,” he shuffled to look at you. “He knew that you care about us, so he said that to distract you, make you angry, it’s what they do.”

You nodded, knowing Dean was right. Demons do lie. Sometimes they tell the truth, so what if this one was.

“It just made me think of the few times I’ve stopped you from getting hurt,” you explained. “It got me thinking… what if there’s times where I can’t save you, what if there’s one hunt too far and I lose you for good.”

“Woah, woah, let’s not jump the gun,” Dean shook his head, not liking what you were saying. “You’re not losing me, or Sam for that matter, we’ve been fine on our hunts before. Just because one stupid demon tells you something, doesn’t mean it’ll come true.”

You looked at him, raising your eyebrows, “are you forgetting the multiple times you’ve ended up in the hospital, Dean?”

“Both times when you weren’t on the case with us,” he reminded. “Can’t blame yourself if you weren’t even there.”

Another thing he was right about. You let out a long breath, leaning further into Dean’s side as it seemed to get colder in this diner.

The uncertainty was something you couldn’t shake though. The feeling that one of these days you wouldn’t be able to save the people you cared about. The same thing that Sam and Dean had both been through personally.

“Sometimes it’s Sam, most of the time it’s you,” you told Dean, referring to your nightmares. “It’s either I don’t find you in time, or another demon makes me watch you die. Both scenarios, I can never save you.”

Hearing that you dream about Dean more than Sam, usually this would be his moment to crack a joke or tease you for dreaming about him. He knew he shouldn’t. This wasn’t the right moment for something like that.

“Have you ever lost me before?” Dean asked you.

“I mean, there was that time—“

“Actually, lost me,” he rephrased. “A time when I never came back.”

You shook your head. By some miracle, every time you thought Dean was gone, well and truly gone, somehow he’d find a way back to you.

“You put yourself before others so often I guess what the demon said is starting to get to me,” you lean against the table, fiddling with your hands.

Dean was quick to place one of his hands over yours, causing you to immediately switch your focus back to him.

“I do that because I care,” that much you knew. “I care about Sammy, I care about you. If I can stop you from getting hurt, then I will.”

“That’s what scares me, Dean.”

He saw the tears sitting in the brim of your eyes, almost not understanding why you were getting upset at him saying that.

“Don’t you want me to protect you?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

You ran your hands through your hair as his voice raised slightly. Only out of frustration to understand, you knew he didn’t mean to. But it did get the attention of a couple of people at the counter.

Without saying it, you urged Dean to get up, and he did. You pushed his arm gently, he stood first, placing some money down on the table before leading the way out of the diner. His leather jacket still around your shoulders. Luckily, since it was still cold and raining outside.

He wasn’t sure on where you wanted to go, waiting for you to lead him. You took hold of his hand in yours cautiously, slightly worried for what his reaction would be.

It hadn’t happened before. And it was the reaction you least expected. His hand tightened around yours and you felt his thumb brushing against the back of your hand.

You smiled.

Once you got back to the motel, walking a few doors down to where you were staying, you stopped, looking at Dean, both hands in yours.

“My nightmares stem from what the demon said,” you looked down at your linked hands. “But subconsciously, I think it’s my fear of you dying… and it being the one time where you never come back.”

He noticed the way you were talking about him, not mentioning Sam anymore. Maybe his brain was starting to realise how much you really did care for him.

Dean pulled one hand away from yours, moving it to cup your cheek softly. You instantly leaned into it, feeling the softness and warmth of his palm.

“I always come back, don’t I?” He smiled, trying to lighten the moment. “I could never leave you here alone, I’d never want to.”

You nodded, believing what he was saying, “yea, yea you’re right,” you didn’t take your eyes off of his, seeing he was being serious. “I’m sorry, I never should’ve listened to the demon, just couldn’t help it.”

“You don’t need to be sorry for something you can’t control, sweetheart,” Dean pulled you closer to him, arms wrapping around your body to… hug you? “Glad you finally talked to me ‘bout it though.”

It took you a second to register the fact that Dean was actually hugging you. Sure, you’d hugged before. But not like this. This wasn’t a greeting hug, or a happy to see each other safe hug.

It felt comforting, almost loving. Similar to the way he held you the first time you got upset about that hunt. Appreciation from Dean after you’d picked him to open up to when you easily could’ve spoken to Sam.

You eventually wrapped your arms around Dean’s back, holding onto him tighter than you ever had. As if you were trying to get him to understand just how much he meant to you, how much you needed him.

He didn’t pull back until you did, and even when you did, you didn’t move far. One of his hands rested on your shoulder as your bodies were still touching.

“Thank you, again,” you chucked with a smile. “For talking to me, and making me feel better.”

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he smiled too, but there was a different look in his eye, something you hadn’t seen before.

Before moving completely, you stood on your tip toes, leaning to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. Only then did you let go of him to step back fully.

You smiled once more, seeing the uncertain expression on his face. You stepped towards your motel room door, expecting him to follow.

When you turned, he was still standing near to where his Impala was parked. You unlocked the door, pushing it open to reveal Sam asleep at the table, head resting on the same lore book he was reading previously.

“Dean?” You got his attention, he raised his eyebrows, looking at you. “You coming?”

It took him a moment, but he made his way towards you, walking inside the room as you followed and closed the door behind you.

Standing there in that room, seeing Sam in his usual research spot, Dean with you, reassured that your nightmares were surely just nightmares.

You had your first major scare on a hunt, but now all you feel is comforted. Knowing you were surrounded by two of the best hunters out there.

And as you looked at Dean one last time tonight, you wondered if he wasn’t just a hunter to you anymore… but way more than that.

✩ ✩ ✩

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[loboazul16]

This guy!