#I can do something better than this later maybe

[girl-lostconnection]

I just wanna say I love your fruit bat!reader and I just had to think about the boys further misunderstanding when reader maybe has a darker aesthetic, but reader doesn't get at all the connection cause like yeah black's just a neat colour, oh I guess vampires are cool. Wait me? *Mouthful of orange or something* me no fruits all the way? I don't know what you mean.

On one side it would be incredibly funny as misunderstanding but the devil is whispering in my ear so let’s walk the other way.

Imagine Reader freshly selected to join the team, nervous about meeting new people who they read EVERYTHING on, just to be ready.

And no one is hostile, right? They are friendly, almost too friendly, which grates on your nerves a little but you know, maybe you are thinking too much about it?

Works up until the first joke about the vampires, huge wolf operator (you find out later that his call sign is Ghost).

“Know why people don’t like workin’ with vampire bats?”, the question catches you off guard, your eyes snapping to the man’s eyes and you tilt your head to the side. You don’t know him yet, you aren’t sure how much of a reaction is allowed in this circumstance.

“‘Cause they are pain in the neck”, he announces, his brown eyes boring a hole into you, his tail wagging like he is waiting for you to start laughing.

You don’t. You stare right back at him, fingers flexing so the sharp points of your claws dig into your palm and you manage a smile that feels a little too forced.

Big wolf in front of you apparently sees it as well, because you can see the way his jaw flexes under the mask.

So for some reason he decides to give it another go. (Only months later you will find out that Simon was desperately scrambling for all the bat x vampire puns he remembered, thinking that the first one sounded a little too abrasive)

“What drink does bat order at the bar?”, he asks, his left ear giving in a small twitch that catches your eye. He sure is big for the wolf, most of their family you met in the past were tall and lean but this guy is built like a bloody tank.

“What?”, you ask, heart beating a little harder than you’d like it, anxiety coiling in your gut.

“A Bloody Mary”, wolf hums out, his ear giving in another twitch and corners of your mouth curl upwards. Cute.

Wolf’s tail starts to wag again, eyes satisfied as he walks off and you follow him to see your new space and unpack.

Isn’t so bad for the first meeting, right?

But in hindsight every interaction from then on felt…somehow forced. Recurring about blood and meat and fucking Halloween. Remarks about wearing too much black or the way Soap once chuckled at the silver chain with a beautiful red cross. Not a religious symbol but simply an accessory you liked.

It all was piling up so quickly you decided to just…stay on the outside. Maybe that would be better. Maybe they were trying to tell you that they didn’t want a bat and didn’t like bats.

That they didn’t like you.

It takes time to undo and the process is slow — you are a tough nut to crack, but they don’t try to crack you. Just…make amends, yeah?

Your relationship with Simon makes a cycle when he peels you oranges, eyes soft as you devour pieces of peaches.

“Do you know what’s a vegetarian vampire bat’s favourite fruit, luv?”, he hums out, placing a peeled orange in your bowl, something in his tone making you feel fuzzy.

“What is it?”, his tail is wagging and god the way he looks at you makes something tender in your chest ache, you mouth voluntarily falling open when he pushes a piece of peach in it, eyes crinkling.

“A neck-tarine”, Simon murmurs, his tail wagging harder when you laugh after a beat, juices from fruit dripping down your chin.

You shake your head at him in faux disbelief and he grins, popping a slice of orange in his mouth.

“Can do it all night”

You roll your eyes and instinctively smack his hand away when he tries to steal your bowl.

“That’s what I’m afraid of”

[scarletwinterxx]

maybe maybe - jeon wonwoo imagine

hellooooo ~ i need to give myself a pat in the back for this bcs OH MY GOSH EVEN I WAS GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET WHILE WRITING THIS. the slooooow burn on this🫠 we love a nonchalant and oa combo (if u know u know)

also i was listening to maybe maybe by lola amour while writing this. give it a listen to get the maximum feels😅

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You’ve liked Jeon Wonwoo for as long as you can remember. It’s not a fleeting crush or some shallow infatuation—it’s the kind of feeling that lingers, like a persistent shadow. He knows it; everyone does. But as much as your friends tease you about your obvious affection for him, Wonwoo has never acknowledged it.

Not once.

Wonwoo is the epitome of calm indifference. He’s polite, sure, but he never goes out of his way to engage with anyone outside of his tight-knit circle of friends, Vernon and Minghao. They’re always together, laughing at inside jokes and radiating an air of effortless cool that only makes him seem more unreachable.

And yet, you can’t help yourself. You’re drawn to him like a moth to a flame, even though he treats you no differently than anyone else.

Sometimes you wonder if he even notices the little things you do for him—the way you save him a seat in class when he’s running late, or how you always bring an extra drink to study group just in case he wants one. You tell yourself you’re just being nice, but Mimi, your best friend, sees right through you.

“This is ridiculous,” she tells you one afternoon, leaning back in her chair with an exasperated sigh.

The two of you are sitting outside on the campus lawn, the warm sunlight doing little to ease the frustration in her voice. “You’re bending over backward for a guy who can’t even spare you a second glance.”

“He’s not that bad,” you argue weakly, though even you know it’s a poor defense. Mimi raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Not that bad? Y/N, he’s like a brick wall with glasses. Sure, he’s good-looking, but you can’t build a relationship on eye contact alone.”

“I’m not trying to build a relationship!” you protest, though your cheeks heat at the lie. “I just… I like being around him, that’s all.”

Mimi rolls her eyes. “You like torturing yourself, is what you mean. Honestly, if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you enjoy the challenge.”

Maybe she’s right. Maybe there’s a part of you that holds onto this unrequited crush because it’s safer than the alternative. If you never confess, you can never be rejected. And as much as Wonwoo’s aloofness stings, it’s still better than the thought of him outright telling you he doesn’t feel the same.

But then there are moments—rare, fleeting moments—when you catch a glimpse of something softer beneath his exterior. Like the time you lent him your notes for a class he missed, and he returned them with a quiet “Thanks” and a small, almost imperceptible smile. Or the way his eyes lingered on you for just a second longer than usual when you bumped into him at the library last week.

It’s those moments that keep you hanging on, no matter how much Mimi scolds you for it.

“You’re hopeless,” she says with a shake of her head. But there’s no real malice in her words, just the weary affection of someone who’s watched you pine for too long. “I swear, one day you’re going to look back on this and laugh.”

You doubt it, but you don’t say that out loud. Instead, you change the subject, steering the conversation toward something less painful.

Later that day, you find yourself crossing paths with Wonwoo outside the campus café. He’s with Vernon and Minghao, as usual, but when he sees you, he slows his pace, letting his friends walk ahead without him.

“Hey,” he says, his voice as steady and unreadable as ever.

“Hi,” you manage, your heart doing its usual somersault at the sight of him.

For a moment, you stand there, unsure of what to say. But before the silence can stretch too long, Wonwoo speaks again.

“Thanks for the notes,” he says simply.

It’s not much, just two words, but the sincerity in his tone catches you off guard. For once, it feels like he’s really looking at you, not just through you. And in that moment, you think that maybe, just maybe, there’s hope after all.

It’s a small step, but it’s enough to keep you going.

Mimi is relentless, as she always is when it comes to your love life—or lack thereof. She’s leaning against your desk chair in your dorm room, scrolling through her phone with a dramatic sigh.

“I’m telling you, Y/N, this guy is perfect for you. He’s into photography, loves indie films, and he’s even in your lit class. Plus, he doesn’t act like he’s living in a perpetual state of indifference.” She shoves her phone in your face, showing you a photo of a guy you vaguely recognize from class. He’s cute, objectively speaking, with a kind smile and a soft, approachable vibe.

But you shake your head before Mimi can even finish her pitch. “I’m not interested.”

Mimi groans, tossing her phone onto your bed. “Why do you do this to yourself? It’s not like you’re dating Wonwoo, or that he’s even trying to date you. You’re wasting your time on a guy who can’t even bother to hold a real conversation with you.”

Her words hit harder than she probably intended, and for a moment, you feel the weight of the truth behind them. She’s right—nothing about your feelings for Wonwoo makes sense. You know it’s a losing game, but every time you even consider the idea of moving on, it feels wrong. Like you’d be betraying something you’ve held onto for so long.

“It’s not that simple,” you say finally, your voice quieter than you intended.

Mimi softens at your tone, sinking onto the edge of your bed. “Then make it simple, Y/N. I get it—you like him. But you can’t keep doing this to yourself. You deserve someone who actually sees you.”

“I don’t know if I want someone else to see me,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

It’s frustrating—you’re frustrated with yourself.

Every time you see Wonwoo, it’s like all the logic and advice you’ve been given evaporates into thin air. All you see is him: the way his glasses slide down his nose when he’s reading, or the rare laugh that lights up his face when Vernon says something ridiculous. It’s like he’s carved a permanent space in your mind, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t make him leave.

Mimi looks at you like she’s trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re not even ready to like someone else, are you?”

You shake your head, a small, self-deprecating smile playing on your lips. “I don’t think so. It’s stupid, right? Holding onto feelings for someone who probably doesn’t even think about me.”

“It’s not stupid,” she says, surprising you. “It’s just… hard to watch. You’re one of the best people I know, Y/N, and it sucks to see you stuck on someone who doesn’t appreciate that.”

You’re about to respond when your phone buzzes on the desk. It’s a notification from the group chat for your literature project, and your heart skips a beat when you see Wonwoo’s name among the participants.

“Speak of the devil,” Mimi mutters when she notices your expression. She doesn’t need to ask who the message is from.

You open the chat to find a simple message from Wonwoo: I have some extra notes from class if anyone needs them. Just let me know.

It’s not directed at you specifically, but your heart still flutters at the thought of him offering to help. Mimi catches the way your lips twitch into a faint smile and groans dramatically, flopping back onto your bed.

“You’re hopeless,” she declares, though her tone is more resigned than annoyed.

You don’t argue with her this time. Maybe you are hopeless, but you’re not ready to give up just yet. Because even though it doesn’t make sense, even though it’s frustrating and irrational and probably a little pathetic, a part of you still believes there’s something worth holding onto.

The next day, you’re determined to take a small step forward.

Wonwoo’s message about the notes keeps replaying in your mind, like a sign you can’t ignore. It’s a flimsy excuse to talk to him, sure, but it’s enough to make you gather your courage and head toward the study hall where you know he likes to hang out.

You spot him right away, sitting at his usual corner table. His laptop is open, and a notebook lies beside it, his familiar neat handwriting filling the pages. But before you can take another step, you see her.

She’s sitting across from him, her dark hair tied back in a sleek ponytail. She’s gorgeous in a natural, effortless way that makes you want to disappear on the spot. And the way Wonwoo looks at her—it’s like someone punched you in the stomach. His smile is soft, easy, like he’s known her forever. He’s speaking to her with a comfort and warmth that he’s never shown you.

You freeze in place, your confidence evaporating in an instant. All the what-ifs and maybes that have kept you going suddenly feel childish and naive. You turn on your heel and leave before either of them can notice you.

The rest of the week feels like a blur. You don’t have the energy to pretend everything is fine, and Mimi is quick to notice.

“What’s wrong with you lately?” she asks on Thursday, her eyes narrowing in concern as she sits across from you in the campus café. “You’ve been moping around like someone stole your dog.”

You shrug, poking at your untouched sandwich. “It’s nothing.”

“Liar,” she says immediately. “Come on, spill.”

When you hesitate, she leans in closer, her voice softening. “Is it Wonwoo?”

The look on your face is answer enough.

Mimi lets out a groan, rubbing her temples. “Y/N, you’ve got to stop doing this to yourself. If he’s making you feel like this—”

“It’s not his fault,” you cut in quickly. “He doesn’t even know how I feel.”

“Exactly,” she says, exasperated. “You’re tearing yourself apart over a guy who doesn’t even know what he’s doing to you.”

You don’t respond, and Mimi sighs. After a moment of silence, she leans forward with a determined look in her eyes.

“Alright, that’s it. I’m not letting you mope around all weekend. There’s a party on Saturday, and you’re coming with me.”

You open your mouth to protest, but she holds up a hand to stop you.

“No excuses. You need a distraction, and I’m going to make sure you have fun whether you like it or not.”

True to her word, Saturday evening finds you standing in front of the mirror, dressed in an outfit Mimi picked out for you. It’s a little more daring than your usual style—an off-the-shoulder black dress that hugs your figure in all the right places���but Mimi insists it’s perfect.

“You look hot,” she declares, grinning as she adjusts the necklace around your neck. “Wonwoo who?”

You laugh despite yourself, though the sound feels hollow. Mimi doesn’t miss the way your smile falters, and she grabs your hands, forcing you to meet her gaze.

“Listen, Y/N. Tonight is about you. Forget about Wonwoo, forget about everything else, and just have fun. You deserve to feel good about yourself, okay?”

“Okay,” you murmur, even though you’re not sure you believe it.

But as Mimi drags you out the door and toward the party, you can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, she’s right. Maybe it’s time to let go, even if just for one night.

The bass from the speakers reverberates through your chest the moment you step inside the party venue. It’s dimly lit, with neon lights flashing and a sea of people crowded around the dance floor and bar.

You feel out of place immediately, but Mimi, ever the extrovert, is in her element. She practically radiates confidence as she scans the room, her hand firmly gripping your wrist.

“This is going to be fun,” she says with a grin, already pulling you toward the bar.

“Mimi, wait—” you start to protest, but she’s not listening. Within moments, she’s ordering shots, her energy infectiously bold.

“Two tequila shots, please!” she calls out over the noise, turning to you with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. “Come on, Y/N. You said you’d let loose tonight!”

“I didn’t say I’d drink,” you mumble, eyeing the small glasses as they’re placed in front of you.

Mimi rolls her eyes. “One shot won’t kill you. It’s called liquid courage. You’ll thank me later.”

Before you can object again, she’s shoving one of the glasses into your hand. Everything feels like it’s happening too fast—the music, the lights, the crowd, and now this. You glance down at the clear liquid and then at Mimi, who’s already downed hers like a pro.

“Cheers to forgetting about all your worries!” she declares, clinking her empty glass against yours.

You sigh, realizing you have no way out, and tip the shot back. The alcohol burns as it goes down, and you cough slightly, grimacing at the taste. Mimi laughs and pats your back.

“There you go! See? That wasn’t so bad,” she says, already signaling for another round.

As Mimi orders more drinks, you glance around the room, trying to get your bearings.

You don’t notice the way heads turn in your direction, but Wonwoo does.

From his spot in the corner of the room, he’s watching you.

He’d seen you the moment you walked in, though he wasn’t the only one. It’s hard not to notice you tonight. You look stunning, completely different from your usual casual, understated style. The black dress you’re wearing accentuates your figure, and there’s a confidence in the way you carry yourself—even if you don’t feel it.

Vernon nudges him lightly, leaning in to murmur, “Isn’t that Y/N?”

Wonwoo doesn’t reply, his gaze fixed on you as you stand at the bar with Mimi. He’s used to seeing you in hoodies and jeans, always looking comfortable and approachable. But tonight, you’re turning heads left and right, and it’s clear you’re out of your element.

“She cleans up well,” Minghao comments casually, sipping his drink.

Wonwoo doesn’t respond, but his jaw tightens ever so slightly. He watches as Mimi drags you further into the chaos of the party, her energy pulling you along like a whirlwind. You seem hesitant, your eyes wide as you take in the unfamiliar environment, but there’s something endearing about it.

For a moment, Wonwoo feels a strange pang in his chest, though he can’t quite place it. Maybe it’s because he’s not used to seeing you like this, so far removed from the quiet kindness you usually exude. Or maybe it’s the way other people are looking at you—the guys whose eyes linger a little too long, the girls whispering behind their hands.

“Dude,” Vernon says, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You good?”

Wonwoo blinks, finally tearing his gaze away. “Yeah,” he mutters, though his voice lacks conviction.

But even as his friends return to their conversation, Wonwoo can’t help but glance back at you. There’s something about tonight that feels different, and for the first time in a long time, he wonders if he’s the one being left behind.

The alcohol was starting to buzz in your veins, making the room feel warmer and the noise more distant. Mimi was in her element, laughing and chatting with a group of students you vaguely recognized from campus. Somehow, you’d gotten swept up in their drinking games, and before you knew it, one shot had turned into two, then three.

Now, you were standing in a loose circle, your nerves on edge as you watched the current game unfold. Someone had explained it a moment ago: take the shot, then grab the lemon wedge held between another person’s lips. It was bold, far outside your comfort zone, but you didn’t want to be the odd one out.

“Your turn, Y/N!” someone called, handing you a small shot glass filled with tequila.

Your hands felt clammy as you accepted it, your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn’t even look at the person who was supposed to hold the lemon for you—your nerves wouldn’t let you. All you could think about was how awkward this was going to be, and how much you wished you could disappear into the floor.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes briefly as you downed the shot in one go.

The burn of the alcohol hit first, followed by a rush of heat in your chest. When you opened your eyes and turned your head to face whoever had volunteered to hold the lemon, you froze.

Wonwoo didn’t expect it to happen so soon, but there you were, standing at the bar with a shot in hand, the challenge in your eyes as you glanced at the person next to you holding a lemon.

And then—before he even realized what he was doing—he found himself walking over.

You blinked, wondering if the tequila was playing tricks on you. But no—he was standing right in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face as if this was the most natural thing in the world. The room seemed to fall away, the noise and chaos fading into the background.

The lemon wedge was between his lips, his sharp gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

Your heart felt like it might burst out of your chest as he leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving yours. His touch was warm, steady, grounding you even as your mind spiraled.

Every nerve in your body was on high alert, the proximity making your head spin even more than the alcohol.

The way you looked at him when you saw him standing there, so close, made something stir in his chest. He was used to seeing you in passing, in casual greetings, but never like this.

Never with this... spark in your eyes, the nervous energy swirling between you two as if the whole room had faded into the background.

His hand found its way to your face without him thinking about it. It was like instinct, like he was meant to touch you, to make the moment real, to ground you in the present. He could feel your breath against his lips as he held the lemon between his teeth, his own heartbeat quickening as he leaned in. The closeness was intoxicating, and even though everything around you was chaotic, there was a stillness between you two—something unspoken that hummed in the air.

His lips brushed against yours, and for a split second, the world stopped moving. The taste of tequila, the sharpness of the lemon, it all blurred together, leaving just the feeling of your presence, warm and electric. It was over in an instant, but the memory lingered like an echo in his mind.

When he pulled away, he noticed the slight tremble in your breath, the flush creeping up your cheeks. His fingers lingered on your skin, just for a moment, before he let go and took a step back. He couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or something else that made him act on impulse, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

“Careful with those shots,” he said, his voice steady as he turned to leave, wanting to disappear into the crowd before he did something even more foolish.

And just like that, he was gone, disappearing back into the crowd.

You stood there, your heart racing and your mind spinning, wondering if what had just happened was real—or if it was just another tequila-induced dream.

The morning light is harsh, seeping through the blinds and hitting you like a freight train.

Your head pounds, your mouth is dry, and you feel like your body is made of lead. Every movement feels like a chore, and the only thing you want is to pull the covers over your head and pretend like the world doesn't exist.

But then you remember last night. Bits and pieces of the party flash through your foggy mind—Mimi dragging you into the chaos, the shots, the people... and then, the moment with Wonwoo.

You sit up, your stomach flipping at the thought of it.

What had happened? Was it real? Or just a tequila-fueled dream? Your heart sinks into your stomach as the hangover makes itself known in full force. You groan, leaning back against your pillow.

Mimi, ever the morning person, bursts into your room without knocking, as if she doesn’t notice the state you’re in.

“Morning!” she says brightly, a little too brightly, given your current condition. She’s holding a water bottle and some aspirin in her hand. “Here, drink this. You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, taking the bottle gratefully, but your eyes are still squinting against the harsh light. “Mimi... what happened last night? What... what did I do?”

Mimi plops down on the edge of your bed, clearly already recovered from whatever wildness the night had thrown her way. She grins, almost too smugly for your current state.

“Let me think,” she says, tapping her chin like she’s in deep contemplation. “Well, first you got a little tipsy, then you got a lot tipsy... You were a little shy at first, but after a few shots, you really started to loosen up!”

You wince, already imagining how embarrassing you must have been. “And…?”

“Then,” she continues, barely able to contain her laughter, “you and Wonwoo had a moment.”

You freeze, your heart skipping a beat. “Wait, what?”

“Oh yeah,” Mimi says, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You two were definitely the talk of the night. You guys played that game, and then...” She pauses for dramatic effect, clearly enjoying every second of your discomfort. “...Well, let’s just say the lemon wedge wasn’t the only thing shared.”

Your brain stumbles over the words as the memory floods back. You and Wonwoo, so close, his hands on your face, the taste of tequila and lemon... And then the kiss, the soft brush of his lips against yours, lingering for just a heartbeat.

You feel your cheeks heat up, even as you cringe internally. “That wasn’t a kiss, was it?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, it definitely was,” Mimi says with a teasing grin, clearly delighted by the reaction she’s getting from you. “A very brief one, but yeah. It happened.”

You bury your face in your hands, groaning in embarrassment. “Oh my god, I’m going to die.”

“No, no, no.” Mimi leans in, trying to comfort you—though her laughter is a little too apparent. “It wasn’t a big deal! You didn’t embarrass yourself too badly. Besides, from what I saw, he didn’t look like he minded.”

You look up at her, eyes wide. “What do you mean? Did he say anything?”

Mimi shrugs, her grin turning a little more thoughtful. “He didn’t say much”

Your heart skips a beat. You hadn’t even considered that. Did he... stay because he was just being polite? Or was there something else there?

"Did anything else happen after that?" you ask cautiously.

Mimi shakes her head. "No, you two went your separate ways pretty quickly after that. I mean, you were a little tipsy, so I didn't want to push you too much. But trust me, you're not imagining it. Something happened, even if you're too hungover to remember all the details.”

You lean back against the pillows, the weight of her words settling in your chest. Wonwoo. That moment. Had he really felt something too? Or was it just the alcohol making you think there was more to it than there actually was?

"Mimi..." you trail off, unsure how to even phrase your next question. "What do I do now?"

Mimi's expression softens slightly, though she still has that mischievous glint in her eye. "You let it play out. Don't overthink it. If something’s meant to happen, it will. If not, then at least you got a pretty wild story to tell."

You nod slowly, still unsure about everything. The hangover isn’t making things any easier, and your head feels like it’s full of unanswered questions.

But as you drink the water and swallow the aspirin she handed you, you can’t shake the feeling that this could be the beginning of something you’ve been waiting for. Even if you don’t have all the answers yet.

The next few days felt like an emotional rollercoaster, and you were stuck somewhere near the top, trying to keep your balance.

After last night’s chaos, you couldn’t bring yourself to face Wonwoo. You avoided him like the plague, keeping your distance whenever you saw him around campus. It wasn’t because you regretted what happened, but because... well, it felt like you were the only one who cared about it, and that made everything awkward.

Wonwoo didn’t say anything, didn’t acknowledge you or the kiss. He acted like it was nothing, like it was just some silly game, just like the other shots and the other people. But the longer you avoided him, the more you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was aware of it—aware of you. And that only made it worse.

His friends had caught on, too. Vernon had laughed it off, saying it was cute how you were avoiding Wonwoo. Minghao seemed amused. They didn’t think much of it, but you couldn’t ignore the tension that built up every time you crossed paths with them.

But it wasn’t just them noticing. Wonwoo was noticing too. You could feel his eyes on you whenever you went to class or sat in the library. His usual nonchalant demeanor didn’t give anything away, but there was something in the way he lingered a little longer, just enough to make you feel seen, even when you wanted to disappear.

Then, one afternoon, when you thought you were finally in the clear, it happened.

You were walking home, head down, lost in your thoughts as the weight of the last few days pressed heavily on your shoulders. You should’ve stayed in and avoided the outside world. But, no, you were out here, walking alone, hoping the fresh air would clear your head.

And then, you heard the familiar sound of an engine approaching. You looked up just in time to see Wonwoo’s car slowing beside you. Your heart skipped, and for a moment, everything inside you screamed to turn around and run. You were already panicking, your steps quickening, but before you could escape, the car came to a stop beside you.

Wonwoo rolled down the window, his expression as unreadable as ever, but his voice—his voice was what made you freeze.

“Y/N,” he called out, and your pulse quickened. You turn slowly to face him

"Hey, Wonwoo. Uh what's up?" you casually, trying to hide the fact that your face is burning because of him and not the cold winds

"Just got out of class, are you walking home?"

"Yea, on my way home too. Anyways, I better get going. See you... around" you wave goodbye and started to walk again.

You hear the car door open and steps behind you, "Are you avoiding me?" his question makes you stop on your tracks. Turning around to see him leaning against the passenger side of his car

“Uh... I... It’s just—” you stutter, and then you realize you can’t lie about it anymore. “It’s because of... the kiss.”

His face doesn’t shift, no surprise or confusion. He just looks at you, his dark eyes locking onto yours for a moment too long. And then, as if it’s nothing at all, he shrugs.

“It wasn’t even a kiss, Y/N,” he says coolly, as though it’s no big deal. “It was just... part of the game. Nothing to worry about.”

The words hit you like a bucket of ice water. You’re disappointed, though you try not to show it. You wanted something more. You wanted him to acknowledge the tension, the fact that there was something between you two, something real.

But of course, that was just how Wonwoo was—nonchalant, distant, and always acting like everything was just nothing.

You couldn’t help the slight sinking feeling in your chest. You forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Right. Of course,” you mutter, hoping your voice doesn’t betray the disappointment you feel.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. You feel awkward, standing there on the sidewalk, his car still idling beside you. But then he speaks again, his tone softening just slightly, though still with that signature aloofness.

“Get in. I’ll drive you home.” he opens the passenger door, waiting for you.

You hesitate. You should just say no, continue walking, put some distance between you. But you’re tired, emotionally drained, and there's something about his voice—something about the way he’s offering that makes it hard to refuse. You sigh, not knowing what to say but not wanting to make things worse. You step toward the car, sliding into the passenger seat without another word.

As he pulls away, the silence in the car is thick, and you can’t stop the thoughts that swirl in your head. You want to ask him, want to know if that kiss meant anything to him, or if he really did feel nothing about it.

But that’s just how Wonwoo was, wasn’t it? Always distant, always playing it cool, never letting anyone get too close.

The drive to your place feels like an eternity, but in the back of your mind, you know this silence between you two is only going to build the tension more. You just wish he would break it.

It wasn’t easy, but you were getting better at avoiding him. The subtle things you used to do for him—saving him a seat in the library, offering him drinks or homemade cookies—had all stopped. You still couldn’t bring yourself to fully confront your feelings for him, and honestly, it felt like the only way to protect yourself was to distance yourself from him as much as possible.

You told yourself it was for the best. You told yourself that the space you were creating would help you get over him. But no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much time passed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was always watching, always noticing.

And, of course, he noticed. Wonwoo wasn’t the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but he was observant, maybe more so than he let on. He noticed that you stopped going out of your way to be kind to him. He noticed the absence of the small, thoughtful gestures you used to offer. At first, he didn’t say anything, uncertain of what was going on, or whether he even had the right to ask you about it.

But eventually, he couldn’t take the silence anymore.

It was late in the afternoon when you were walking alone on campus, heading toward the library to meet up with Mimi. The cool breeze made your hair dance around your face, and the noise of the campus life seemed distant, as if you were in your own little bubble.

As you passed by the gym, you saw him. Wonwoo. He had just finished his workout, his gym bag slung over his shoulder, his T-shirt sticking to his body in that way it always did after a session. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, but you quickly turned your attention elsewhere, pretending you hadn’t seen him.

But he saw you. Of course, he did.

“Y/N,” Wonwoo called out, his voice cutting through the ambient noise, his footsteps quickening to match yours. You tried not to flinch as you heard him approaching, but your pulse was racing.

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him, hoping your expression didn’t betray the nervousness bubbling up inside you. “Wonwoo?” you said, keeping your voice steady even though it felt like your heart was about to leap out of your chest.

He stopped in front of you, looking at you for a beat too long, like he was sizing you up. The look on his face was unreadable, but you could see the confusion in his eyes, the way his brows furrowed slightly as he took you in.

"Why did you stop?" he asked, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly.

"Stop?" You repeated, confused by his question. What was he even talking about?

"Yeah," he continued, his voice casual, but there was something different in it now. Something that made you feel like you were under a microscope. "You stopped... saving me seats, or bringing me stuff. You used to do that all the time."

You didn’t know how to respond. A part of you wanted to lie, to say it was no big deal, that you were just too busy or distracted with school, but something in his eyes made you hesitate. The truth, the real reason you were avoiding him, was too complicated. You couldn’t say it outright.

“I just… I guess I’ve been busy,” you said quietly, avoiding his gaze. “Things just… changed, I guess.”

Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, as though trying to understand, but he didn’t push. There was no challenge in his voice, no annoyance. It was just curiosity, genuine and unassuming.

"Okay," he said after a beat, his eyes still locked on you. “I just thought you were mad at me or something.”

You felt a pang of guilt at his words, but you brushed it aside. “I’m not mad, Wonwoo. I’m just... I don’t know." You shook your head, unsure of how to explain your feelings without making things even more awkward. “I guess I just needed space.”

There was a pause, and then, for the first time in a while, he looked almost... vulnerable. "Space? For what?"

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. You could hear the underlying question in his voice, even if he wasn’t asking it directly. Why had you pulled away from him? Why had you stopped the small things that used to come so naturally?

Before you could say anything else, Wonwoo let out a small sigh, and though his expression was still unreadable, there was something softer in his tone. “Alright. I just wanted to know.”

Without waiting for you to respond, he turned to leave, his steps slow but purposeful. For a moment, you just stood there, watching him walk away, the weight of his question lingering in the air between you.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment, though you weren’t sure what exactly you were disappointed in. Was it because he hadn’t pushed you to explain? Or was it because, deep down, you were still waiting for him to say something, anything, to make you feel like your feelings weren’t so one-sided after all?

But that was just how Wonwoo was, wasn’t it? Detached, distant, and never quite giving you the answers you needed.

And yet, even as you watched him disappear into the distance, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder—maybe he did want to know.

The cool breeze of the evening felt nice against your skin as you walked through the quiet neighborhood, sipping on your banana milk. The streets were relatively empty, the soft hum of the evening a welcome relief after a busy week. You didn’t have a particular destination in mind—just wanted to clear your head and enjoy the peace for a while.

As you walked past the familiar basketball court, you spotted a figure out of the corner of your eye. At first, you didn’t think much of it, but then the silhouette registered in your mind. It was Wonwoo.

You stopped in your tracks, unsure whether to approach him or just keep walking. He didn’t seem to notice you at first, too focused on dribbling the ball and taking shots at the hoop. The setting sun cast a warm glow over the court, and for a moment, you found yourself just watching him. There was something about his movements that seemed different, something tight in the way he played—like he was working through something that was bothering him.

Maybe it was the way his jaw was clenched or the way his shoulders were hunched. He looked almost frustrated, the usual nonchalance replaced by something more intense. You stood there, quietly sipping your drink, lost in thought as you watched him.

You were so absorbed in the moment that you didn’t see the ball coming toward you. It hit you squarely on the head before you could react.

"Ouch!" you exclaimed, wincing as you staggered back a step.

Wonwoo’s head snapped toward you immediately, his eyes wide with concern. He jogged over, his long legs covering the distance quickly.

"Are you okay?" he asked, voice laced with worry. He stood in front of you, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of injury.

You rubbed your head, trying to play it off as no big deal. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just wasn’t paying attention,” you muttered, but you could tell by the way Wonwoo was looking at you that he wasn’t convinced.

“Are you sure?” He reached up to gently touch the spot where the ball had hit you, his fingers lightly brushing the area. His touch was surprisingly soft, and you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest despite the situation.

“Really, I’m fine,” you said quickly, pulling back slightly. The last thing you needed was to be caught up in another one of these awkward moments with him.

But before you could brush it off entirely, something in you gave way. The distance you’d been trying to maintain, the walls you’d carefully built to protect yourself—suddenly, it felt so fragile. Maybe it was the way Wonwoo was looking at you so intently, or maybe it was the fact that it had been days since you last spoke. Whatever it was, the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them.

"I just thought I was being too much," you murmured, your gaze dropping to the ground. "And it’s not like you liked it."

Wonwoo froze, his expression unreadable for a moment as he processed your words.

The air between you seemed to thicken, the awkwardness of the situation now mixed with something more vulnerable. You could feel your heart beating faster, the confession hanging in the air like a weight.

You regretted saying it the moment it left your lips, but it felt like the truth—no matter how painful it was. You didn’t want to keep putting yourself out there, offering him small gestures and favors if he wasn’t interested in them, or in you.

For a long moment, Wonwoo didn’t say anything. His gaze softened, and he seemed to be carefully considering his next words. It wasn’t the detached, nonchalant Wonwoo you were used to.

This time, he seemed almost... human.

"You’re not being too much," he said quietly, his voice lacking its usual coldness. He met your eyes, and for the first time in a while, you saw something different in his gaze—something that wasn’t easy to define. "And I didn’t think it was annoying or anything."

You weren’t sure if you believed him, but the sincerity in his voice made you hesitate. Was he really saying that? Did he mean it?

“I thought you wouldn’t want me to keep doing those things for you if you didn’t care.”

Wonwoo’s expression softened even more, and he let out a small sigh, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that was far more human than the usual composed Wonwoo you knew.

“You’re not being too much, and I guess I see why you think I didn't care. I never said I didn't” he says, this time with more conviction. “I just…” He trailed off, like he was searching for the right words. “I just didn’t know what to make of it. You were doing all these things, and I didn’t know how to react.”

There it was. The reason for his distance. The reason for his coldness. He hadn’t known how to handle your kindness. He hadn’t known what to do with the way you made him feel, and so he had kept his distance, just as you had.

“I’m sorry,” he added after a beat, looking slightly embarrassed, as though the admission was a little difficult for him.

You didn’t know what to say, your mind swirling with a mix of emotions. Had you really been wrong all along? Had he cared, but just not known how to show it?

You were so taken aback by his answer that your mind couldn't keep up. The words he had said, so simple, yet so unexpected, rattled your thoughts. I never said I didn’t care. Had you misread everything? Had all your attempts to keep your distance been for nothing?

"But then the kiss..."

"That was me being stupid, I should've apologized for invading your space like that and you look really bothered by it. I was being dumb"

"Well you did say it was just a game" you mumble

"Like I said, I was being dumb and I apologize" he shoots you a quick apologetic smile

Before you could process anything more, your face heated up with embarrassment. You felt suddenly shy, the weight of the conversation pressing down on you, making it harder to breathe.

“I—” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. You felt a nervous energy surge through you, a mix of confusion and the rush of emotions you were trying to keep hidden.

“I’m fine, really.” You managed to give him a small, flustered smile, hoping it would make him stop worrying about you.

But Wonwoo wasn’t convinced. He stepped a little closer, eyes scanning you with concern. “You don’t seem fine,” he said, his brow furrowing as he looked you over. “You sure you’re not concussed or something? You hit your head pretty hard.”

Your heart raced at the proximity, and you could feel the overwhelming urge to escape before you made a bigger fool of yourself. He was too close.

“No, really, I’m fine,” you said quickly, the words coming out in a rush as you took a step back. You were panicking, trying to make sense of everything, but all you wanted in that moment was to get away from him. To breathe. To process what had just happened.

Before you knew it, your feet were already moving, backing away from him at a faster pace. You didn’t even think about it—your body just reacted, the instinct to escape taking over.

“Y/N?” Wonwoo called after you, his voice filled with concern, but you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t deal with this right now. Not with him standing there, looking so sincere and worried, when you were still trying to understand everything that had just happened.

“I’m sorry, I really have to go!” you shouted over your shoulder, not daring to look back.

You could hear him calling your name again, but you didn’t stop. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you turned down the nearby street, running as fast as you could without looking back.

You kept running, trying to outrun the mess of emotions that swirled inside you. The awkwardness, the guilt, the confusion—it was all too much. And you couldn’t deal with it now.

As you finally slowed down, your breath coming in heavy gasps, you leaned against a nearby wall, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your heartbeat. You’d never done anything like that before—just ran away from a conversation like it was nothing. But in that moment, it felt like the only thing you could do.

What had just happened? Why did his words make you feel like everything inside you was unraveling?

You were doing well—at least, you thought you were.

For the past few days, you had managed to avoid any direct interaction with Wonwoo. You kept your distance, keeping your head down whenever he was around, avoiding his gaze, and hiding whenever you could. It was easier that way. You convinced yourself it was better this way.

But then, on this particular day, as you were gathering your things at the end of class, preparing to leave, you felt a tug on the hood of your jacket. You froze, instinctively jerking away from the sudden contact.

"Y/N," a calm voice spoke, and you looked up to find Wonwoo standing there, looking down at you with a slightly amused, yet nonchalant expression. He didn’t seem angry, just... observing.

You felt your heart skip a beat, and before you could stop yourself, your cheeks began to heat up. His gaze was steady, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as if he was asking you, Are you really doing this?

You didn’t know how to respond. Every part of you wanted to turn away and just leave before things got any worse, but your feet felt rooted to the spot.

“I... I wasn’t... trying to hide,” you stammered, but your voice came out weaker than you’d intended.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, not saying anything at first. He didn’t need to. His gaze alone spoke volumes. He was just waiting for you to admit what was going on.

You shifted uncomfortably, biting your lower lip as you awkwardly tried to avoid his gaze. “I... didn’t know how to talk to you,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s been... confusing. And I thought... maybe it was better to just keep my distance.”

Wonwoo didn’t seem angry. In fact, the amused look on his face lingered, but there was something else there, something softer that you weren’t used to seeing from him. “You’ve been avoiding me for days now,” he said in that same calm tone, his voice unbothered. “But running away won’t make this go away, you know.”

You winced at his words, feeling the weight of them more than you wanted to admit. But you couldn’t deny that he was right. It wasn’t going to disappear just because you ran away from it.

“I... I don’t know what to say to you,” you confessed, feeling all your anxiety bubbling up again. “I don’t want to make things awkward. I just...”

“Just what?” Wonwoo asked, his expression unreadable now, his voice still quiet but insistent. “You think I won’t understand?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I don’t know if you will,” you murmured, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “I thought maybe... maybe it was easier to just pretend it didn’t matter.”

Wonwoo studied you for a moment, his gaze softening slightly. “You think it doesn’t matter?” he asked, his voice low, almost thoughtful. “You’re the one who’s been giving me things, doing things for me. It matters.”

You felt your heart beat faster, unsure of how to handle this newfound vulnerability in his voice. It was unlike him, and it was making everything even more complicated.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you said quietly, your hands still fidgeting with the sleeves of your jacket. “I thought... maybe I was just being annoying.”

Wonwoo let out a soft sigh, shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “Y/N... you weren’t being annoying. I just didn’t know how to respond to you, okay?” His voice softened further, a hint of frustration in it now, but not at you—at himself, maybe. "I didn't know what you wanted from me."

You stared at him, unsure what to say. His words were hitting you in a way you hadn’t expected, and the confusion that had been gnawing at you for so long started to ebb, replaced by a different kind of uncertainty.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

He looked away for a moment, as if embarrassed by his own admission, but then his gaze returned to yours. “I didn’t know how to. It’s easier for me to just... not talk about these things." He paused, then gave you a small, almost hesitant smile. "But I’m trying, okay?”

The sincerity in his words made your chest ache, and you felt a weight lift off your shoulders, but at the same time, it was replaced by something new—something you weren’t sure you were ready for.

“So... what now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, almost afraid of the answer.

Wonwoo stepped closer, a subtle movement that somehow felt like the most intimate thing. His expression was still calm, but there was a softness in it now that made your heart race. “Now, we talk. No more running away.”

You didn’t know what that would mean for you, for him, for whatever this was between you. But right now, it felt like you might finally be able to stop avoiding the truth.

You find yourself sitting across him at a diner outside campus. The booth was cozy, the dim lighting giving the place a warm, inviting atmosphere. But despite the warmth of the surroundings, you felt cold. The walls you’d carefully built around yourself seemed to be crumbling, and the closer you got to Wonwoo, the more vulnerable you felt.

You hadn’t said much since you’d arrived, your gaze bouncing around the diner, avoiding his eyes whenever they found yours.

Wonwoo, however, was watching you with quiet amusement, his gaze flickering between you and the menu in his hands. He could tell you were uncomfortable, restlessly fiddling with your hands, your eyes constantly darting away whenever he caught you looking at him.

"Hey," he finally said, his voice calm but carrying a teasing edge. "You seem a little... tense."

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond, but before you could say anything, you noticed your own body language—a slight fidget, your shoulders stiff, your legs crossed tightly. You shifted in your seat, trying to make yourself comfortable, but it wasn’t working. You couldn’t shake the feeling of his gaze on you.

“I... I just don’t like sitting across from people,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper, your gaze still averted. “It’s too much pressure, I guess.”

Wonwoo didn’t hesitate. Without saying a word, he slid out of the booth, shifting to the side next to you. The movement was casual, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. He wasn’t judging you for your discomfort. Instead, he was meeting you halfway, making you feel... seen.

He settled beside you, his arm brushing against yours as he leaned back against the booth, a relaxed smile spreading across his face. He was so close now, and you felt a sudden rush of warmth flood your chest. Your heart skipped a beat, but this time, it wasn’t from nerves. It was from the unexpected comfort of his presence.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low and surprisingly gentle, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of unease.

You nodded, but this time, you didn’t shy away from meeting his gaze. The proximity made everything feel a little more real, a little more grounded. And, for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel the need to run away.

“Yeah,” you murmured, still a little flustered, but this time, the smile on your lips was more genuine, more relaxed. “This feels better.”

Wonwoo smirked, clearly pleased with your response, but there was a softness in his eyes that made your chest tighten. “Good,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable around me.”

“So…” You hesitated for a moment, still unsure of how to navigate this new dynamic between you. “What now?”

Wonwoo’s gaze softened, and he shrugged casually, though his eyes held a certain sincerity. “Now, we eat, and we talk. You don’t have to worry about running away anymore.” He paused, then added with a small smile, “And no more avoiding me, okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. This wasn’t going to be easy, but maybe, just maybe, you were ready to start figuring things out—with him, and with yourself.

You nodded slowly, the silence between you wasn’t exactly awkward, but it wasn’t easy, either. It felt like there were a thousand unspoken words hanging in the air, and neither of you knew how to address them.

Then, Wonwoo spoke, his voice calm and steady. “What’s your go-to drink order?”

You blinked, startled by the question. Out of all the things he could’ve asked, that wasn’t what you expected. “Uh…” You hesitated, glancing at him briefly before looking back down at your hands. “Probably... iced vanilla latte. Or banana milk,” you added with a nervous laugh, gesturing to the nearly empty carton in front of you, you pulled it out of your bag a few minutes ago.

Wonwoo nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I figured you liked banana milk. I see you drinking it a lot.”

Your cheeks heated up at his observation, and you ducked your head, suddenly very aware of how closely he paid attention to you. “Yeah, it’s kind of a comfort drink,” you admitted softly. “What about you?”

“Americano,” he replied easily. “No sugar.”

You scrunched your nose at that, and Wonwoo let out a soft chuckle at your reaction. “What?” he teased. “Not a fan of bitter drinks?”

“Not really,” you admitted, daring a quick glance at him before looking away again. “I like sweet things.”

Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving you. “What’s your favorite dessert?”

You bit your lip, trying to think. The way he was watching you so intently made your brain feel foggy, and it was hard to focus. “Probably... cheesecake,” you finally said. “Strawberry cheesecake.”

He hummed thoughtfully, as if filing that piece of information away. “Strawberry cheesecake,” he repeated, his voice soft. “Noted.”

“Why are you asking me this?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Wonwoo shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “Just trying to get to know you better.”

That answer caught you off guard. You looked down at your lap, your hands twisting nervously. “But... why?”

He didn’t answer right away, and when you finally gathered the courage to look up at him, you found him watching you with a softness in his eyes that made your heart ache. “Because I want to,” he said simply, his voice quiet but certain.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you quickly looked away again, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, and you could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Wonwoo didn’t push you to say anything else. He let the silence settle again, but it didn’t feel as heavy this time. It felt... different. Like he was giving you space to process, to breathe.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe he wasn’t as far out of reach as you’d always thought.

It's suppose to be another normal day. You're in class, sitting next to MImi still feeling sleepy but then something slides infront of you.

You stared at the banana milk on your desk like it had suddenly sprouted wings. Slowly, you turned back to look at Wonwoo, who was casually flipping through his notebook like this was the most normal thing in the world.

Mimi, sitting to your right, nudged your arm, her expression a mix of confusion and barely-contained glee. “What’s going on?” she whispered, her eyes darting between you and Wonwoo like she was trying to piece together a crime scene.

“I have no idea,” you whispered back

You leaned slightly toward Wonwoo, lowering your voice as much as possible. “What are you doing?”

“Attending class,” he replied, not even looking up from his notebook. His tone was so calm, so casual, that for a moment you thought you’d imagined him moving seats altogether.

“Here?” you pressed, glancing over your shoulder again to see his friends Vernon and Minghao, who were both watching the two of you with poorly hidden smirks. Minghao even gave you a small wave, which only made you more flustered.

Wonwoo finally looked at you, his expression as neutral as ever. “Why not?”

Before you could respond, he nudged the banana milk closer to you. “You like this, right?”

You blinked down at the carton, your brain short-circuiting. “I... yeah, but—”

“Then drink it.” His tone was soft but firm, leaving no room for argument.

Beside you, Mimi’s jaw was practically on the floor. “Okay, what is going on here?” she hissed under her breath, leaning closer to you. “Did you bribe him? Threaten him? Sell your soul to some matchmaking demon?”

“I don’t know!” you whispered back, your voice frantic as you stared at the banana milk like it held all the answers to life’s mysteries.

Wonwoo, clearly aware of the hushed conversation happening beside him, leaned back in his chair and glanced at Mimi. “Is something wrong?” he asked, his calm demeanor never faltering.

Mimi froze, her eyes wide as she realized he was addressing her directly. “Uh, no? Nothing’s wrong,” she stammered, clearly trying to play it cool. “Just... curious, that’s all.”

Wonwoo nodded, satisfied with her answer, and turned his attention back to his notebook, leaving you and Mimi to exchange bewildered looks.

The rest of the class passed in a blur. You were hyper-aware of Wonwoo’s presence beside you, the subtle sound of him turning pages, the occasional shift in his seat, even the faint scent of his cologne. You couldn’t focus on the lecture to save your life, and every time you caught Mimi looking at you, she wiggled her eyebrows in a way that made you want to crawl under the desk.

When the class finally ended, you quickly packed up your things, eager to escape before your brain completely melted. But as you stood up, Wonwoo grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Walk with me,” he said, his tone more of a statement than a question.

You glanced at Mimi, who was watching the scene unfold with wide eyes and a grin that was far too smug for your liking. “Go ahead,” she said, waving you off. “I’ll meet you later.”

Before you could argue, Wonwoo gently tugged your wrist, guiding you toward the door. You followed him, your heart racing as you wondered what on earth he was up to now.

You were half jogging to keep up with Wonwoo’s long strides, his hand still loosely wrapped around your wrist as he led you through the campus. It wasn’t like he was walking that fast—it was just that his legs were ridiculously long compared to yours.

Your steps were hurried, almost clumsy, as you tried to keep up. “Wonwoo,” you huffed, glancing at his back, “can you slow down? Not all of us have tree trunks for legs, you know.”

He glanced back at you, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “We’ll be late if I slow down,” he said simply, but his pace did ease up slightly.

It was almost cute—too cute, honestly. The height difference, the way you had to trudge along behind him like a kid trying to keep up. And then there was him: calm, composed, and acting like dragging you to your next class was just a normal, everyday occurrence.

By the time you reached the door of your classroom, you were slightly out of breath. Wonwoo, of course, looked as unbothered as ever. He gently let go of your wrist and gestured for you to go in.

“Go,” he said, his tone soft but firm.

You blinked up at him, confused. “Wait, where are you going?”

“To my class,” he replied, as though it was obvious.

You frowned, gesturing vaguely in the direction you had just come from. “Your class isn’t here?”

“Nope,” he said, already turning on his heel to walk away. “It’s on the other side of campus.”

You stared at him, your jaw dropping. “The opposite side?”

He paused, glancing over his shoulder to meet your incredulous gaze. “Yeah,” he said nonchalantly.

“Then why did you—” You cut yourself off, not even sure how to finish the sentence.

Wonwoo just shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Felt like walking you,” he said simply, as though it was no big deal.

And then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing at the door of your classroom, completely flustered and at a loss for words.

What is he doing to me? you thought, burying your face in your hands. Whatever game Wonwoo was playing, it was definitely working.

This new routine had become so normal that you almost stopped questioning it—not that you were any less flustered every time Wonwoo waited for you after class or walked you across campus. It was just easier to let it happen, even if your heart constantly felt like it was doing somersaults. Mimi teased you endlessly about it, of course, but you’d stopped trying to defend yourself. What could you even say?

One afternoon, just as class was ending, Wonwoo approached you while you were packing up your things. You were expecting him to grab his bag and lead you out of the room like usual, but instead, he hesitated.

“I have something to do after class today,” he said, his voice soft yet direct, his hands casually shoved into his pockets. “I can’t drive you home.”

You blinked up at him, surprised. “Oh, that’s okay. I can just—”

“Wait,” he interrupted, giving you a look that made you freeze. “Are you going to walk home alone?”

You faltered, unsure how to answer. “I mean, it’s not that far...”

He frowned at that, clearly not liking your response. “I don’t like the idea of you walking home alone.”

Your heart did a little flip at his words, but you quickly brushed it off, waving your hand dismissively. “It’s really fine, Wonwoo. I’ve walked home alone before.”

“Not anymore,” he said firmly, pulling out his phone.

You raised an eyebrow as he started dialing, wondering what on earth he was doing. “What are you—”

“Hey,” he said into the phone, cutting you off. “Where are you right now? Can you drive someone home for me?”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. Was he really calling someone just to make sure you didn’t walk home alone?

A few moments later, he hung up and turned back to you. “Vernon and Minghao are nearby. They’ll drive you home.”

“Wait, what?” you asked, your voice rising slightly in disbelief. “Wonwoo, you don’t have to—”

“I already did,” he said simply, grabbing his bag. “They’ll meet you outside in five minutes. Just wait for them, okay?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the look he gave you stopped you in your tracks. It wasn’t stern, exactly, but it was... serious. Protective. Like he genuinely wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to you.

You sighed, realizing there was no point in arguing. “Fine,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

He softened at that, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Good. I’ll text you later.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your mind reeling.

When you made your way outside, Vernon and Minghao were waiting by Vernon’s car, both of them looking far too amused for your liking.

“So,” Vernon said, leaning casually against the hood of the car, “you’re the one Wonwoo’s been babying lately.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Can we not talk about this?”

Minghao chuckled, opening the passenger door for you. “Don’t worry, we won’t tease you too much. Wonwoo’s been... different lately, though. It’s kind of interesting to watch.”

“Different how?” you asked, sliding into the car and buckling your seatbelt.

Vernon smirked as he started the engine. “Let’s just say you bring out a side of him we didn’t know existed.”

You couldn’t decide if that made you feel flattered or even more flustered. Either way, as they drove you home, you couldn’t stop thinking about the lengths Wonwoo had gone to just to make sure you were safe. And even though it was embarrassing, a small, shy smile found its way to your lips.

Later that night, just as you were about to settle into bed, your phone buzzed with an incoming call. You blinked at the screen, momentarily stunned when you saw the name.

Wonwoo.

Your heart immediately started racing. He had texted you before, sure, but calling? This was new. Hesitantly, you picked up, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” His voice was deep and smooth, laced with a certain warmth that made you grip your phone a little tighter. “Did you get home okay?”

You felt your lips twitch into a smile despite yourself. “Yeah, Vernon and Minghao dropped me off. You really didn’t have to go that far, you know.”

“I did,” he said simply. “I told you, I don’t like you walking alone.”

There was something about the way he said it—calm, steady, certain—that made your chest feel warm. You bit your lip, trying to ignore the giddy feeling bubbling inside you.

Instead, you changed the subject. “How was your thing after class? You never said what it was.”

“Just something for a group project,” he answered. “It took longer than I expected.”

You hummed in understanding. “That sucks.”

He let out a quiet chuckle. “Yeah. Anyway, how was your day?”

At that, you perked up, launching into a detailed retelling of everything that had happened since class. You told him about Mimi’s latest antics, how she nearly got into an argument with a professor because she was convinced she turned in her assignment when she actually hadn’t. You talked about how Vernon and Minghao teased you the whole car ride home, about the new café you wanted to try, and even the silly little things that made you laugh that day.

Somewhere along the way, you noticed he had gone quiet.

“Wonwoo?” you called, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Are you still there?”

There was a pause, then his voice came through the speaker—soft, almost gentle.

“Go on, I’m listening.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

There was something different about the way he said it. He wasn’t just saying it to fill the silence. He meant it. He liked listening to you.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, but you pushed forward, finishing your story despite how shy you suddenly felt.

When you finally ran out of things to say, he let out a contented hum. “You should get some rest,” he murmured. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Your heart melted at how soft his voice was. “Okay,” you said quietly.

“Goodnight,” he added, and you swore you could hear the smallest smile in his voice.

“Goodnight, Wonwoo.”

The call ended, and for a moment, you just sat there, staring at your phone. Then, all at once, the emotions hit you like a tidal wave.

You let out a loud groan, grabbed your pillow, and screamed into it.

“What are you doing to me, Jeon Wonwoo?!”

Your pillow, of course, had no answers. But one thing was clear—you were so doomed.

It's a few weeks later, you're at the cafe you frequently hang out when you have free time. The usual, you're on your yapping mode while Wonwoo listens. But then you said something you didn't mean to tell him.

The moment the words left your mouth, you froze.

You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. It was just one of those things you only ever admitted to Mimi—how you were so confused about what was going on between you and Wonwoo.

But now, you had just said it. Right in front of him.

Your heart stopped.

Slowly, hesitantly, you turned to look at him.

Wonwoo was already staring at you, that small, amused smile still lingering on his lips—but his eyes held something else. Something unreadable.

For the first time, he didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t tease you, didn’t brush it off. He just watched you, as if he was carefully thinking about what to say.

You scrambled to fix it. “I-I mean—” you let out a nervous laugh, waving your hands. “Forget I said that! It was just, um, something stupid I told Mimi—”

Wonwoo tilted his head, his gaze still locked on you. “You’re confused?” he asked, his voice calm.

You swallowed. “I mean... yeah?”

Silence.

The tension was unbearable. Your heart was practically screaming in your chest.

Finally, he leaned back, eyes flickering to the coffee in front of him. Then, after a long pause, he spoke again.

“What do you want us to be?”

Your breath hitched.

You stared at him, unsure if you heard him correctly. Your mind raced, completely unprepared for the question.

“I—” you fumbled, gripping the edge of your sleeves. “I don’t know...”

Another pause. Then, he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Liar.”

Your head snapped up. “Excuse me?!”

Wonwoo met your gaze again, eyes knowing, almost too knowing. He didn’t look mad. If anything, he looked fond—like he had already figured out the answer before you even realized it yourself.

Your face burned. “I’m not lying—”

“You’ve liked me for a long time.” His voice was so casual, so matter-of-fact, that it left you speechless.

Your entire body tensed.

Oh my god.

He knew.

Of course, he knew.

Everyone knew. You knew he knew. But hearing him say it so bluntly, with no hesitation—it made your stomach flip.

You wanted to disappear.

“I—” You swallowed hard, looking anywhere but at him. “Okay, so maybe that’s true, but—”

“But?” He was still watching you, waiting.

“But I don’t know what you want.” The words came out smaller than you intended, but they were honest. “You... you’re always around now, Wonwoo. You drive me home, you wait for me after class, you listen to me ramble all the time. I just—” You bit your lip. “I don’t know what that means to you.”

Another silence.

Wonwoo didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he reached for his coffee, taking a slow sip. Then, with the same infuriatingly calm expression, he set it back down, resting his chin against his palm as he gazed at you.

And then—

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Your hands clenched under the table, heart pounding in your ears. You knew what he was implying, you felt what he was saying without words, but you still couldn’t believe it.

And Wonwoo—knowing you so well—could see that.

So, he leaned in slightly, his voice quieter this time.

“I wouldn’t do all of this if you weren’t special to me.”

Your brain short-circuited.

You felt like your heart had stopped entirely, like you had forgotten how to breathe.

Jeon Wonwoo—who had spent years acting nonchalant toward you—was now sitting here, looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

You didn’t know what to say.

So, naturally, you panicked.

“I—um—I need to go to the bathroom!” you blurted out, shoving your chair back as you stood up abruptly.

Wonwoo blinked, a bit startled, before letting out a soft chuckle. “You’re running away?”

“I am not running away!”

“You’re literally running away.”

“I need to pee!” you lied, voice high-pitched as you quickly turned toward the restroom.

Behind you, you heard Wonwoo laugh—actually laugh—before calling out, “I’ll be here when you get back.”

You groaned, covering your face as you rushed away.

This was too much.

Jeon Wonwoo was too much.

When you finally gathered the courage to come back, your heart was still hammering in your chest. You had taken extra minutes in the restroom just to stare at yourself in the mirror, mentally screaming and trying to convince yourself to act normal.

Except—how could you act normal after what just happened?

You cautiously made your way back to the booth, and there he was—Wonwoo, sitting comfortably with one arm draped over the back of the seat, sipping his drink as if he hadn't just dropped that bomb on you.

And then, when he noticed you, his lips curled into that teasing smile.

“You good?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement. “Took you a while.”

Your face heated.

“I had to—um, you know—actually pee.” You sat down stiffly, eyes fixed on the table.

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t look convinced at all.

You fidgeted, not knowing what to say. Now that you knew he felt something for you, you had no idea how to act around him. You weren’t prepared for this. You had spent so long assuming your feelings were one-sided that the moment he admitted otherwise, your brain completely shut down.

And Wonwoo—of course—noticed.

He watched you with that quiet amusement, letting the silence stretch between you. Then, after a beat, he spoke again.

“Are you still confused?”

Your breath caught.

You looked up at him—finally meeting his gaze—and you regretted it immediately because he was already staring at you.

His dark eyes, calm and steady, held a kind of certainty that made your stomach flip.

“I—” You swallowed. “I don’t know.”

Wonwoo hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head slightly. “I see.”

You thought that would be the end of it, that he would back off and give you time to process—but no.

Instead, he leaned in.

Not dramatically, not forcefully. Just enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence, enough that your breath hitched and your hands curled into fists in your lap.

Then, in a voice so quiet that it sent a shiver down your spine, he whispered,

“Then tell me…”

His eyes flickered to your lips before locking back onto yours.

“What do you want me to be?”

Your brain short-circuited.

Your body went completely still.

The weight of the question—the meaning behind it—hit you all at once, and suddenly, everything felt too real.

Wonwoo was still watching you, waiting, his face unfairly close to yours. He wasn’t teasing anymore. He wasn’t joking. He was giving you the choice—asking you to decide what this was between you.

And you…

You had no idea how to answer.

Because for the first time ever—

You realized that your silly little crush wasn’t so one-sided after all.

Your heart pounded so loudly in your chest that you were sure he could hear it.

What did you want him to be?

For so long, you had thought the answer was simple—you wanted him, you always had. But now that he was actually asking you, the words caught in your throat.

You were frozen, caught between the overwhelming weight of your long-time feelings and the terrifying reality of facing them head-on.

Wonwoo didn’t move. He was still leaning close, his dark eyes fixed on yours, waiting patiently. He wasn’t rushing you, wasn’t pushing you to answer, but that only made it worse.

You wanted to say something, anything, but all that came out was a small, breathless,

“I—”

And then you panicked.

Your body moved before your brain could catch up—you quickly grabbed your drink and took the biggest gulp imaginable, as if that would somehow wash away the moment.

It didn’t.

Instead, Wonwoo let out a quiet chuckle, finally leaning back, giving you space.

“You’re cute when you panic.”

You almost choked.

“I’m not panicking,” you sputtered, setting your drink down with a little too much force.

His lips twitched, clearly not believing you. “So, what’s your answer?”

“I—” You exhaled, gripping the hem of your shirt. “This is a lot, okay? You just—you never made it seem like you liked me before, and now you’re—” You gestured vaguely at him. “—doing all this and it’s messing with my brain.”

Wonwoo tilted his head, looking at you with quiet curiosity. “I never made it seem like I liked you?”

You gave him a look.

He hummed, gaze flickering downward for a split second before meeting your eyes again. “That’s not true.”

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

“I just… don’t show it the way you do.” He said it so casually, so matter-of-fact, as if it was something you should’ve known all along.

You stared at him, your brain struggling to process his words.

And then, as if to prove his point, Wonwoo reached out—his fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting moment before he grabbed your wrist, gently pulling your hand closer to him.

Your breath hitched.

“Do you really think I would’ve let just anyone take care of me the way you did?” His voice was lower now, softer, as his thumb absentmindedly traced slow circles against the back of your hand. “I noticed, you know. Every time you saved me a seat, every time you gave me something without expecting anything in return.”

You swallowed thickly.

Wonwoo glanced down at your intertwined hands, as if realizing he was still holding you. But instead of letting go, he gave your fingers a small, almost hesitant squeeze.

“I didn’t ignore it because I didn’t care,” he admitted. “I just… didn’t know how to respond.”

The confession made something in your chest tighten.

Wonwoo had always been unreadable to you—his quiet, nonchalant demeanor making it impossible to tell what he was thinking. But now, sitting here with him, listening to him actually talk about his feelings, you realized that he wasn’t cold at all. He was just careful.

He let out a quiet sigh. “But when you stopped…” His grip on your hand tightened slightly. “I didn’t like that.”

You blinked. “You didn’t?”

He shook his head. “No.”

It was such a simple response, yet it made your heart race all over again.

There was a small beat of silence before he spoke again, quieter this time.

“I missed you.”

Your chest ached.

All this time, you had thought your feelings were a burden to him—that he barely noticed you, let alone missed you. But here he was, telling you otherwise, proving you wrong in the gentlest way possible.

Your fingers curled around his, gripping back.

“…I missed you too.”

Wonwoo smiled, the kind of small, rare smile that made your stomach flip.

“So,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, “are you still confused?”

You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck. “…Maybe.”

He chuckled. “Then should I make it clearer?”

You sucked in a breath when he leaned in again, just close enough that you could see the soft curve of his lips, the warmth in his eyes.

His gaze flickered to your mouth, then back to your eyes.

“What do you want me to be?” he asked again, voice barely above a whisper.

"Do I have to answer now?"

Wonwoo just smiled at your question. That soft, knowing kind of smile that made your stomach do flips.

“Take your time,” he said simply, "You waited for me, without expecting anything. It's my turn now" he tells you.

You could barely meet his eyes, your fingers twitching against his. “I just—this is a lot, okay?”

“I know.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles in a soothing motion. “That’s why I’m letting you decide.”

That didn’t help at all.

You groaned internally, dropping your forehead onto the table in defeat. “You’re making this so much worse, Jeon Wonwoo.”

He chuckled, and you could feel his amusement. “Am I?”

“Yes.”

“You’re the one blushing like crazy.”

“Shut up.”

He laughed again, and you hated how much you loved the sound.

After a moment, you hesitantly lifted your head, still unable to look at him directly. “…So, you’re not gonna, like, be weird about this?”

“Nope.”

“You’re not gonna pressure me?”

“No.”

“You’re just gonna… wait?”

Wonwoo leaned back against the booth, his hand still comfortably wrapped around yours. “As long as you need me to, as long as you want me here”

Your breath hitched.

Oh.

You bit your lip, feeling your heart squeeze at his words.

“…Okay,” you mumbled.

“Okay?”

You nodded shyly, finally—finally—glancing up at him. “I’ll think about it.”

His lips twitched, amused. “Good.”

And then, like it was the easiest thing in the world, Wonwoo lifted your hand to his lips and pressed the lightest, softest kiss against your knuckles.

Your brain completely shut down.

“You—” You squeaked, yanking your hand back as if you had just been electrocuted.

Wonwoo just smirked.

“Take your time,” he repeated, looking way too satisfied with himself. “I’ll wait.”

And you knew—you knew—that no matter how much you tried to think about it, your heart had already decided.

[maxisodenoth]

Oops, forgot to block.

But anyways, it seems like you don't understand.

Let me put it like this for you.

You have been provided links with proof [that I'm sure you didn't even touch.] And instead of bringing up any point related to them you stick to your same arguments.

I asked you a simple yes or no question, and you seem to have taken it personally. It doesn't matter to me what you think the answer is, because the answer is always no. An infertile woman is just as much of a woman as any other. We are what we want to be. Your words mean nothing to me, and other peoples identity. [which let me remind you *again* that you've been provided links in the comments which explain this stuff better than I ever could]

[And let me tell you something. Just because we can't have kids right now doesn't mean it'll remain that way in the future. I believe that something will be figured out later in the future that will allow trans-people to be able to reproduce with their new reproductive apparatuses. Whether that takes years or decades doesn't matter. It'll happen.]

You used word meanings as "arguments". May I remind you that, words were created far before any research was done on this matter? [Not exaclty sure when or how much words change but I'm almost sure it's a pretty slow process, so they might be a bit or alot outdated. Not sure though.] And that maybe instead of etymology, you should be looking at psychology, and biology? [Links in the comments~] Trying to use words meanings as arguments doesn't really work out that well when we're not talking about words but people.

[And by the way. Where is your evidence? You've been provided links explaining this stuff, yet when pressed, you only choose to go to ... a dictionary? Really?]

[Also, since you've stooped into insults let me get in on that action.]

Why do you care so much? Like really. Why does this matter that much to you? Are you that miserable that the only joy you get is by hating on other people being themselves and happy?

Look, I know it's hard to find a purpose in life, or a job, but it'd be alot easier if you stopped being a prick and just let people be themselves. There's no reason to hate people who literally don't affect you in any shape or form. They're just being themselves. Cope. [Your final reminder that there are links in the comments!~]

Or do you just refuse to grow up and understand that it doesn't matter what you say. People will be themselves and happier than you will ever be?

I am not a debator. I'm just some angry penguin on the internet. I have left my piece here. And I won't forget to block this time. May this be the last time I see your miserable blog on my feed.

And for everyone else who comes across this post, trans or otherwise. Your identity is Valid. You know yourselves better than some stranger on the internet. Or anyone who's not you. Because it's Your Identity. Not these peoples.

Do not let the hateful words of bigots make you feel bad about youself. You are the only one who can choose your identity. Not some idiots on the internet. You. And let me say this again Your identity is always valid. No matter what others say. ❤️

Goodbye. 👋

[Even if you reply to this, I'm not wasting anymore of my time on you John. You've been given links, read them. The same goes for any asshole who wants to start another argument. I do not care for you. Find someone else to deal with your bullshit.]

Facts matter. #VoteBlue

[shy-writer-999]

1-800-LONELYCHEF . ₊ ⊹ .

Summary: The same man calls you every Friday at 11:30PM. It seems like he has nothing better to do. After months of the same routine, you've started to take a liking to him, which is a problem, considering that he's your client... and you work at a phone sex hot line. WC: ~7k. CW: NSFW content! ANGSTY! Afab reader w/gendered language (she/her pronouns). Masturbation, oral sex. MDNI plz!

“Hello?”

You’re very familiar with the caller on the other end of the line. He calls you once a week—every Friday, after his shift at the bougie restaurant he works at, 11:30PM on the dot.

He must be very attractive, or at least that’s what you’ve garnered over talking to him for many months.

At first, he was evidently too shy to make use of your more… explicit services. This is a phone sex hotline, after all.

He honestly sounded like he just needed someone to vent to. So, you listened, as was your job. After the first few months, you both got more accustomed to one another. His shyness melted away. He got friendlier.

It’s been six or seven months since he first called. You’ve become very fond of him, but you have no idea what he looks like. So, one day, you decide to ask.

“Your voice is so sexy,” you start, giving him a line that you gave everyone, except this time you mean it. “I can’t help but wonder what you look like, Sanji.”

With other callers, you’d have to check what their name is before you say it. But you’re far past that point with him, and every time you say his name it makes his heart flutter.

“Well,” he says. “I’m blonde. And my eyebrows have a little… curl to them. I’m a decent height and I have a bit of a goatee.”

“And what color are your eyes?” You ask, trying to get the full picture.

He notes that question. It’s a thoughtful one. You’re thoughtful, in general. He knows that you are just being nice to him because, well, it’s your job, but also… he can’t shake the feeling that you have a soft spot for him. Do you talk to everyone like this?

“My eyes? Hmm. It depends on who you ask. I don’t know, really. Some people say they’re black, other people say grey, I’ve had a few tell me they’re blue. I’m not sure.”

You hum in response. There’s a beat of silence.

“What sort of eyes do you like?” He asks. He’s cheeky like that. You have the feeling that he has a real soft spot for you, too. Why else would he call you every week? There are plenty of others he could call. But he just sticks with you every time.

You respond. “It depends on who you ask. But historically I have liked guys with black, grey, or blue eyes. Do you happen to know anyone who fits the bill?”

He can tell that you’re smiling. He finds himself blushing, getting giddy for a few moments before he realizes that oh, right, you are at work, and oh, right, he is paying you to talk to him, like the loser he is.

His voice falters a bit the next time he speaks, a couple of seconds later. You know the exact thought that just went through his head. It’s something you are well aware of but… it does make you a bit sad with him. You like him far too much for your own good.

You wonder if you would like the look of him in real life, painfully single as you are. You wonder if he would like the look of you.

You might have a teeny tiny crush on this guy you’ve never met. Teeny tiny is a massive understatement. Just because he’s so consistent—you’ve never met a man as consistent as him—and so kind, and such a gentleman, even on the phone.

But tonight, the call ends earlier than usual. It seems that your open flirtation was a bit too genuine for him. Hit a bit too close to home. He finishes the conversation and dodges your attempt to take it farther.

“Thank you as always, beautiful. It’s a pleasure to talk to you. See you next week.” The phone hangs up abruptly. He’s gone now.

He always calls you beautiful, like everyone else does, but… it just means something coming from him. Maybe because he’s the only caller who has ever wanted to truly know something about you. And every time he hangs up, he says ‘see you next week,’ even though you never see each other. It’s cute.

You find yourself wishing he was still on the line. You’re a bit bummed that he hung up this early, not because you’re going to be left wanting for money (he always overpays), but because you always look forward to talking to him.

When you take the next caller, you’re quickly reminded that Sanji is by far the youngest and kindest of anyone who has ever called you.

---

“Hello?”

He’s on the line again. It’s Friday again, 11:30PM sharp.

You respond, tone warmer than it needs to be, given that you’re speaking to a client. “Hi.”

You’re glad to talk to him. Very realistically, this is the only interesting thing you have to look forward to—it’s not like you can afford to go out and party on the weekends. Or any day, for that matter. He’s your Friday night date every week. That doesn’t escape him.

“How was your week?” He asks, like he always does. He’s the only client who has ever asked you that.

You respond as frankly as you can without overstepping. “Hmmm. It was alright. Pretty boring, in general. It could have been better. How was your week?”

He pauses for a moment. “It was pretty good.”

“Tell me about it.” You prompt, and he begins detailing his week for you, as is your routine.

The things you know about this man’s life are random and vast, among them, you know that he lives in the city next to yours, he eats oats every morning for breakfast, and that he chain smokes as often as he can get away with (which is almost 24/7). You’ve been privy to him trying to cut back on his nicotine intake more than a few times, and he has never forgotten that you cheer him on every time he tries.

Among other things, this week he had to go to work on his usual day off (Wednesday) because the sous-chef called out (again). You can hear him roll his eyes when he says that. You roll them too, even though he can’t see.

He vents about that, and you hear him out.

“The sous-chef sounds like a real asshole,” you say. “Always has. Didn’t he call out a couple weeks ago?”

He laughs out loud at your honesty. “I fucking know, right? And yes, he did. It’s ridiculous.” Then his heart skips a beat. You really do pay attention to what he says.

“They don’t appreciate you as much as they should, Sanji. I bet I could talk some sense into them.” You say, and you both chuckle for a moment.

“What else happened this week?” You follow up, genuinely wanting to know. This man fascinates you. With how charming and sweet he is, it’s a wonder to you that he’s single. Also, the life he lives is quaint. He is a man of routine, a hard worker, and he’s driven. He has a strong and warm personality.

When he replies to your question, you can’t quite make out the tone of his voice—is that reluctance? Hesitation? Shyness? Or awkwardness? It’s hard to tell.

He responds to your question. “Well… I went on a date last night.”

Before you can wonder why, your heart starts to sink. Fuck. You really do have a crush on this guy, don’t you?

You regrettably (internally) acknowledge your disappointment. You do have a massive crush on this guy. And he’s your client. So, get a grip.

Your acting skills have to be excellent for this job. You make good use of them now. “Oh, a date?” You emanate the pinnacle of excitement for him. “How was it?”

This has happened maybe half a dozen times before. The dates always go well but the follow through rate is bad. Obviously. Or else he wouldn’t be here. But every time it has happened, your heart always sinks. Not a fun feeling.

“It went really, really well.” Sanji’s voice is happy. “Might have been the best date I’ve ever been on.” You know he’s smiling right now. Positively beaming. Your heart breaks a bit before you reprimand yourself. You have no right to like this man the way that you do.

He probably wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot-pole if he met you in real life (you tell yourself this, and you know it is a lie, but you try to say it to make yourself get a grip… needless to say, this strategy doesn’t work.)

“How was she?” You ask because you know he wants to talk about it.

“She was thoughtful, kind, and considerate. Very sweet. Kind of like you, actually.” He says, not realizing how much those words make your smile fall. “One of the cooks set us up. Like a blind date. I had no idea what to expect but she was gorgeous. Wow. So funny, too.”

His voice trails off. It’s your turn to talk.

“Awh, Sanji, I’m so glad. You deserve some attention.” Your voice is sugar coated like usual and his heart patters.

The conversation wanders into various topics. The woman he went on a date with is a veterinarian. That sours your mood. She must be real swell. Caring for sick animals and all that stuff. Ugh. The whole topic is forcing you to accept the fact that you like this guy wayyyy more than you should. You have no business having this intense of a crush on him, having this intense of a crush on a man who is, ostensibly, and for all intents and purposes, using you as his rent-a-girlfriend.

The pair of you then talk about relationships—has he ever been in one? (Yes, ages ago.) What is his love language? (Physical touch and acts of service.) What’s his type? (Essentially, you.) You ask him questions and he asks you them back. It’s a nice conversation, an intimate one, one that would have you feeling better if not for the fact that he just happened to have an amazing date.

After a while, the conversation dwindles. You know that he’s in the mood to do what this whole thing is really about—phone sex. When Sanji is in a really good mood or a really bad mood, he takes advantage of your expertise in this area. Tonight is the former.

“Is there anything else on your mind, handsome?” You ask, gauging what he’s up to tonight.

“Mmmm, there is. What are you wearing, gorgeous?”

You smile. He’s cute. Usually, you lie when men ask you this question. But with Sanji you tend to be a bit more truthful. Maybe it’s the fact that you feel like he’s going to get taken off the market soon and never call you again one day, or maybe it’s something else, but you’re getting the urge to be more candid and flirtier with him than you’ve ever been before. Real flirty, not work flirty. You’re getting the urge to step out of whatever character you put on when you pick up the phone.

“Do you want the regular client answer, or the Sanji answer?” You say, bold and not giving a fuck. Why not? He can have the real answer, hell, he can have some realness because you’ve talked for so long, and because you like him so much. Like you said, he deserves some attention.

“Oh. How about both?” He’s tickled and intrigued. “I’m flattered that I have my own option.”

“You always do. Well, the regular client answer would be that I’m wearing a babydoll slip dress made of black mesh… with a black lace thong and thigh-high black stockings. Do you like that?” Your voice starts to transform; it starts to drip pure lust, candied in honey and flattery. It’s a well-trained skill. Sanji gets hard almost immediately, tenting his pants and widening his thighs.

“I like it very much.” His voice is getting huskier, thicker. You love it when he sounds like that. His voice really is sexy. He continues. “Now, tell me the Sanji answer.”

“It isn’t nearly as glamorous. Do you still want to know?”

He nods, but it’s not like you can see him. “Of course.”

“I’m wearing a black tank top and blue plaid sweatpants. No bra, but I actually am wearing a black lace thong.” You laugh. “Very sexy, right?”

His voice comes out raspier this time. “It is, though. I much prefer the Sanji answer.”

“You’re sweet.” You say, and he can tell you mean it. “Now, what are you wearing?”

Sanji blushes and his erection strains against the fabric of his boxers. “Do you want the regular client answer, or the You answer?”

You laugh again. “How about both?”

“Well,” he continues. “The regular client answer is that I’m in black slacks and a white button down. A few buttons are undone and my sleeves are rolled up to my forearms. I’m wearing black loafers and black socks. Now, the You answer isn’t nearly as glamorous. Do you still want to know?”

“Mhm.”

“I don’t have a shirt on and I am coincidentally wearing blue plaid sweatpants as well. Can you believe that?”

“No way. Really?”

“Yep.”

“Anything underneath?” Your voice is coy and his erection pulses.

“Yep. I have boxers on. Boring black ones.”

“And what’s going on underneath of those?”

He dryly chuckles and reaches down to rub his hard on for a second. “A lot.”

“Just what I wanted to hear.” You practically purr and he runs his palm over his bulge in response.

He lets out a soft groan that make you feel some sort of way. “Oh yeah? Y’know, even though I don’t really know what you look like, I just know that you’re looking sexy in your pajama outfit right now.”

Your witty reply is stopped short. He’s the only one who is this real with you. Most of the men on the other line tend to be creepy, old, and just downright weird. This is a dying profession, after all. Sometimes the other clients are rude and dismissive, too. But Sanji… you know he really means what he says.

“You’re adorable, Sanji,” you say. “I’d venture a guess that you look pretty good right now, too.”

“Mmmm.” He hums, heartbeat rising as he continues to palm himself. “I wish I could see you right now.”

You can’t tell if this is part of the fantasy. You really did wish you could see him, though.

“What would you do to me…” your voice is smooth as silk. “If I peeled off my tanktop and shimmied out of my sweatpants?”

Sanji’s breath hitches. Something feels realer than usual about this—knowing what you’re wearing right now, what you’re really wearing, is turning him on beyond belief (assuming that you’re telling the truth, but he always chooses to believe that you are).

“If I was there, I’d kiss you, actually.”

His answer catches you off guard. You’re not sure he’s said something like this before.

There is silence for a second. You don’t know how to respond, really. You decide to just respond honestly, without appearances. Fuck it. He’d probably be off the market soon if his amazing date was anything to tell for it, so might as well.

“Wow, that’s really sweet. I’m not sure anyone has said something that nice to me in years.”

He tuts. “That’s my lowest bar of sweetness. I can go much sweeter than that, my love.”

He’s never called you that before, either. You’re starting to forget that this is a work call. It feels distinctly different than one.

“I’d like to see how sweet you can get, Sanji.”

His cock twitches again. Fuck. You really have a way with words. You get him more riled up than anyone he’s ever met before.

You continue. “After you kiss me, what would you do to me?”

“I would kiss every inch of you.”

Your heart melts. Fuck. Is this guy a saint? Where does he get off being so suave?

“Mmmm. That sounds nice. I’d like to return the favor.” Your tone, to Sanji, is effortlessly erotic. The thought of you kissing every inch of him—yes, even those inches—has him grinding the palm of his hand over his cock.

“Sounds even better. Then, if you let me, I’d go down on you.” The blonde is starting to get worked up. You can tell from his voice—when it gets all husky like this, you know he’s about to start touching himself, if he isn’t already.

Also, the fact that he said ‘if you let me’ really struck you. No one had ever said that before in your line of work. He has the tendency to say things you’ve never heard before, and he always surprises you.

“Of course I’d let you go down on me,” your voice gets softer. “What exactly would you do?” You wonder if he’d be any good. Maybe his answer will be elucidative.

“I’d start by kissing up your thighs, one at a time. Then I’d very slowly, very gently kiss your clit. Hopefully it would feel good. After a while, I think I’d be able to tell if you liked it. I’d run my tongue downwards and taste you. And tease you as much as you’re willing to put up with.”

“Mmmm. I think I could put up with a lot.” You let out a breathy sigh. You’re starting to warm up between the legs. With that voice, and those words, and that mental image… it sounds divine. You’re about to let yourself get carried away. It’s tempting.

“Is that so?” Sanji decides to keep going with the fantasy as long as you’d let him. Frequently, this happens the other way around. You usually describe to him, in great detail, what you would do to him. Apparently tonight it would be the other way around.

“In that case,” Sanji continues, “I’d take my time with you. I’d push my tongue inside of you delicately at first, then harder, and switch between that licking your clit.”

You can feel that you’re getting wet. It has only ever been with Sanji that you’ve actually gotten aroused while talking to a client. Usually, you’re as dry as the Sahara when talking to clients. But this man does things to you. Sinful things.

“What else?” You ask, biting your lip and sneaking your hand lower. You decide that, just this once, it’s okay to get carried away.

He can hear it in your voice. The synthetic, sugary (but still very much erotic) tone is dissipating and he’s hearing, for the first time, your voice bathed in genuine arousal. Your breaths are quicker than usual, your tone is less composed, and he can tell that you’re hanging onto his every word.

At the same time that his hand goes under the waistband of his boxers, yours goes under your underwear. He starts to stroke himself, relishing the first ripples of pleasure from his hand, and you do something similar. Each movement of your fingers is accompanied by his voice, by some filthy image he puts in your head.

“When you’re moaning loud enough, I’d press my middle finger into you slowly, to make sure you’re comfortable. After a moment, I’d move my finger and caress you inside a bit, and if it seemed like you liked it, I would press my ring finger into you.”

You start to mimic what Sanji is describing. It feels dangerously good. A barely audible sort of gasping sound falls out of your lips and Sanji hears it. His fist goes faster. He hasn’t ever heard you make that sort of noise before—he’s heard fake moans, sure, they were still hot (and he always told himself they were real). Anything you did was hot. But this sort of noise was the sort that could only be caused by one thing—pleasure.

Sanji’s fist goes a bit faster when he concludes that you may be touching yourself. The idea makes him feel like he’s on fire.

“I’d curl my fingers inside of you and find your g-spot… draw circles around it and press it while I place some kisses on your clit. Would you like that?”

His question catches you off guard—you’re getting lost in the act of fingering yourself.

“Mmmm. I would like that, Sanji.”

“How would I know that you liked it?”

“I’d, fuck,” another soft moan slips out of your lips and Sanji squeezes his cock tighter. “I’d run my fingers through your hair and pull you closer. Buck my hips into your tongue so you, ah, get deeper.”

“What would you say?” His voice is low now, and you can hear a faint sound in the background. He’s fisting his cock to your conversation, which is nothing new, but it brings you more of a rush than usual right now because you’re touching yourself too. “What would you say if you liked how I ate you out?”

“Don’t stop,” you shudder, and it sounds like it would if he was actually eating you out. The noise makes his heart flip. He can hear wet sounds from your end of the phone, too. He can hardly believe his ears, but sure enough, he can make out the noises of you bringing your fingers in and out of yourself.

“I wouldn’t,” Sanji says and then groans. The obscene noise goes straight to your aching core. You’re going to orgasm soon. “I wouldn’t stop until you came all over my face and I licked you clean.”

“Fuck,” you mewl. “That sounds, ah, sounds like it would feel good, Sanji.”

“Does it feel good?” He counters, twisting his hand over the head of his cock. His fist brings down the precum that has been beading at his tip, and the sensation makes his hips rock up inadvertently.

“Mmmmphhh, I—yes, it feels good, Sanji. Feels so good.”

You curl your fingers inside, searching for the spot that Sanji mentioned before. You press on it as you speak. You know he’s going to love the noise you make.

He grunts and throws his head back. He’s going to cum soon. He’s going to cum if you say his name some more. He wants it. “Say that again.”

“Fucckkk, Sanji. Feels so good.”

“I love hearing you say my name. I’m—hah—‘m gonna cum if you do it again.”

“Sanji. Sanji. Sanji, fuck, Saannnjjjiii.” On repeat, you moan his name through your orgasm, which you finally allow to wash over you. He can hear it in your voice, can hear you trying to force his name out of your mouth between keens.

Your voice has never sounded so good. He’s sure now, sure sure, that you’ve been touching yourself this whole time and that you just came. It’s a first for him. He’s suspected your arousal at other times, but this time, it’s a confirmed fact. In an instant, the fantasy fades and he can see the moment for what it is—you’ve thrown away the pretenses, acting skills, and flattery, and, for a handful of minutes, you’ve been 100% yourself with him, more so than ever before.

That’s what makes him cum. Your unreserved sincerity and desire. It’s the hardest he’s cum in a long time—and that’s a high bar, considering the fact that any time he broaches these activities with you he cums hard.

When you’re both panting in the euphoric aftershocks of your orgasms, Sanji whistles. “Damn.”

You hum in agreement. “Wow.”

He cracks a joke. “So, am I supposed to send you an invoice after this one?”

He’s hilarious in general, and this one makes you laugh. “I might allow it.” Your tone is uncharacteristically bashful. You’re about to say something you’ll later regret. “I think you’re the only person who has ever gotten me off over the phone.”

Sanji is taken aback for a second. “Really? I’m honored. And surprised.”

You almost instantly regret oversharing, chuckling awkwardly before you realize that this is a work call, and you should act accordingly. But it’s hard to pull yourself out of the intimacy of this moment and you don’t want to. So… against your better judgment, you don’t.

“I’m impressed, Sanji. Maybe we should do this more often,” you say, and Sanji’s heart thumps again. “You don’t have to only call me once a week, you know.”

“As long as you won’t get sick of me, I would love to. And we can do this again any time, gorgeous. It’s seriously my pleasure. You don’t know what you do to me, it’s only fair that I return the favor.”

While he’s saying the last part, Sanji realizes that this isn’t a favor, really. He tries to brush off that sad feeling for a moment but finds himself wondering what you really think of him.

It’s time for him to go to sleep, he concludes. He’s exhausted after a long shift and a hard orgasm.

“So, same time next week?” His voice is chipper.

“Mhm. I look forward to it, Sanji. See you later.” When the words leave your mouth, you wonder if he feels butterflies, too.

“See you later, sweetheart.”

Sanji hangs up the phone.

In your respective bedrooms, you’re both wondering what the fuck just happened. This call was full of lots of firsts and, little do you two know, the other feels elated.

But Sanji thinks about it more. He weighs his feelings for you against the practical understanding that he is, presumably, nothing more than a client to you. His heart aches at the thought.

And then he looks at his phone. The person who he went on a date with texted him while he was on the phone with you—she’s asking for another date. She says she looks forward to seeing him.

---

A week passes.

It’s Friday again.

11:30PM comes and goes. No call from Sanji.

In a span of over six months, this is the first time he hasn’t called you.

As you sit and wait for him, passing off other phone calls in case he decides he wants to speak to you tonight, your heart starts to sink.

Was last time a mistake?

Ten minutes go by.

Twenty minutes go by.

Many minutes go by. The time is now 12:30AM.

You’re left to conclude that last time was, indeed, a mistake.

You decide to take the night off. Your tears are making it hard to get any work done. You can’t put on that sultry voice and moan at old men in your current state.

There’s no denying it—his absence hurts you. Bad. Especially after last week. Especially after you admitted to him that you had never orgasmed over the phone before, and that you wanted to talk to him more often.

Why hadn’t he called you?

You wrack your brain for possibilities, but one major thing stands out. That date he went on. Maybe he went on another one and decided he liked them better.

Liked them better? You ask yourself after realizing what you just thought. He’s paying you to talk to him on the phone. Get over it. He isn’t going to keep calling you forever. What did you expect after last week? That he would just confess his love, offer to pay all of your bills, and that would be it?

You frown harder, hurting yourself deeper with your own rhetoric. The tears won’t stop.

It’s excruciating to realize that you like Sanji this much. You really like him. You know almost everything there is to know about him, too. And as much as you generally try to avoid giving out personal information, he knows a large chunk about you. Maybe that’s why it hurts so bad.

No, you tell yourself. Don’t kid yourself. You know it hurts this bad because you were hoping he liked you for real. You were hoping that this man, who you had never truly met before, who you had never seen, would, against all odds, decide that he wants you, even if he hadn’t seen you.

Fat chance, you tell yourself. Never do that with a client again, and this will never be a problem again.

---

Sanji does not call you back the next week.

Or the next week.

Or the week after that.

Or the month after that.

You are over it by the time the second month rolls around.

It’s pretty good timing, on your behalf. You think you’re really over this huge crush on a man you’ve never seen before. By the fifth month, you’re still telling yourself that you’re over this “crush”.

But that’s a delusion—any time you’re in public and there’s a blonde man, you find yourself scanning his face. Does he have a goatee? Could those eyebrows be considered curly? What color are those eyes?

When you see one that you think might be him, you always work up the courage to speak to them. But it never is Sanji. You would recognize that voice anywhere.

You wonder what you will say to him if he ever calls you again. Or if you see him in person. You decide that if he ever calls you again, you’ll either curse him out or break into tears.

In your most down-bad-hour, you contemplate showing up at the restaurant he is the chef at. You contemplate asking if you can see the kitchen. You just want a glance at him. A glance will keep your heart quiet.

But the joke’s on you—his restaurant is too expensive for you. Truly. You couldn’t afford a drink there if you tried. Okay, maybe just one. But you refuse to stoop to that level of desperation.

You’re a call away from him. He just has to dial your number.

You, on the other hand, have no way of calling or texting him. The service you work through scrambles client numbers before they’re patched through to you. The only way you know it’s Sanji is when he calls, at 11:30PM on the dot, on Friday nights. That’s Sanji time.

But it seems like Sanji time has come and gone.

You can’t shake the feeling that he did you dirty—but then you remember that he doesn’t owe you anything. This is your line of work. Phone sex. And that’s what you had. You just stepped over a boundary that you usually stay far away from. Whose fault is that?

No amount of logic can shake that feeling, though. You develop a little grudge against this man who you will never meet.

That’s what you tell yourself—that you’ll never meet him. But there’s a nugget of hope inside that, someday, he’ll call you. Someday he’ll kiss you. You try to obliterate that nugget though, as it is antithetical to the remedy to your lovesickness that you’re seeking.

Which will come first, him calling you, or you quitting this job that you’ve been meaning to quit for months at this point?

You hate to admit this to yourself, but he’s the only thing that was keeping the thoughts of quitting at bay. Maybe you really will quit this time around.

---

It is a Saturday night and you’re working again. It’s an unfortunately slow night, which sucks, because you really could use the money.

You’re scrolling on your phone, waiting for the next call to come in. It has been three hours with no calls. Guess all the creepy old men have plans tonight, which is such a shame because you need to pay rent soon. Sigh.

Time passes. You check the clock. It’s almost 11:30PM. The time doesn’t remind you of him anymore (well, much).

Maybe if you channel some of your good karma, ask the universe to cut a check of it right now, someone will call you for one long, lengthy conversation. You can help get them off as many times as they want. Five times in a row. You’ll break that record and go for six times if they just pay you. No questions asked.

Sure enough, a call comes through. You check the clock again. It’s been moving at a snail’s pace tonight. It’s 11:35PM. Hopefully whoever this is feels like talking.

“Hello?”

Your heart stops.

It sounds like Sanji for a second. But there’s no way. It’s been five fucking months.

“Hi.” You respond in your sugared up, sultry voice.

“It’s been a long time, gorgeous.”

It is Sanji.

Your heart flutters and your stomach flips. You’re speechless.

Don’t forget your game plans: curse him out or cry. But you can’t bring yourself to do either now that he’s waiting on the other line. You’re about to hang up the phone. You owe this man nothing and he owes you nothing—it’s that simple.

As you go to press the end call button, he speaks again.

“I’m sorry.”

The tears start now. The dam inside of you breaks. Hot tears pour out of your eyes and down your cheeks.

You didn’t think that hearing his voice would have this strong of an effect on you. But the heartbreak that you once thought faded away is now back in full force.

He’s waiting for a response before he hears shuddering breaths from you as you cry. Your tears are all the confirmation he needs—he knows that he was right months ago when he worked up the courage to confess to you. He should have done it. He knows that he was wrong to take the coward’s way out. And he knows he was wrong to tell himself that you didn’t care about him and wouldn’t care when he disappeared, because he was just a client to you. He was so terribly wrong. The sound of your sobs shatters him.

“I should have called you before. I’m so sorry. And maybe you hate me for waiting this long to call you again. I understand if you do. I just couldn’t keep it inside anymore, I—”

“Where the fuck were you?” You cut him off. Your anger is starting to seep through the tears. Maybe the first game plan can still happen. “I waited for you, Sanji.”

He doesn’t even try to think of a comeback or excuse. He tells you plainly what happened and, even though it breaks your heart some more, it makes sense.

“Well… I finally found someone. Last time, after I hung up, I had another date with that person I mentioned, and it went really well. So, we just kept going on dates. It didn’t feel right to keep calling you when things with her were progressing so quickly. We got together, and—”

“I understand, Sanji. That’s all I wanted to hear. Thanks.”

You slam your finger down on the hang up button. Your heart is broken enough as it is. He can keep all that yapping to himself. Good for nothing heartbreaker.

So what, he was with whoever that was. So what, they love each other and have been together almost half a year at this point. So what, he was just a client the whole time and you had gotten your hopes up for nothing and—your catastrophizing is stopped in its tracks when your phone starts to buzz again. You feel like it’s Sanji.

You pick up the phone. It is.

“Wait, wait, don’t hang up, please let me finish, please.”

“What, so you can tell me how much you love your girlfriend? I get it, Sanji. You paid me to talk to you for so long that of course you got sick of it and finally got what you had been after the whole time, a loving, very real partner. I understand that I’m just a service to be used and discarded later. That’s fine. Goodbye.”

“No. Listen to me.” Sanji’s voice is stern and harsh, a tone you’ve never heard from him before. “We got together and then she very quickly dumped me. Do you know what she kept saying to me? She said I was too absentminded. She thought I was thinking about someone else. Dumped me after two months because I couldn’t give her what she wanted. Absentminded.”

His words hang in the air for a few moments while you try to process why the fuck he’s explaining any of this to you and why it matters. He continues. His voice is emphatic, hurried, and nervous sounding.

“And if I’m being honest, I was absentminded. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I know this sounds fucking ridiculous because we’ve never met, and I understand if you tell me to go fuck off because I’m sure this happens to you all the time, but… I can’t get you out of my head. I’ve tried to for months. Three months. I told myself that I was an idiot for falling for someone out of my league. And the crazy thing is, I don’t even have to see you to know you’re out of my league. The way you act is out of my league. YOU are out of my league. You’re thoughtful, and kind, and considerate, and you pause before you respond whenever you talk because I can tell you’re really thinking over your response. And you’re funny. And witty, and charming, and you never once made me feel weird or less than for calling and finding solace in you. I’ve been lonely for years. I make the first move all the time, but it never works out. And I know I fucked this one up, and I know I didn’t have a chance in hell with you to begin with, but I just, fuck, I had to get this off my chest. I love you. I fell for you the first conversation we had. Now please tell me to fuck off.”

You can tell that every word he is saying is sincere and earnest. You can hear the emotion in his voice. While you wipe your tears dry and mend your heart together, you take deep breaths. He can wait for your response. Like he just said, you’re intentional about your responses to people. Every word matters. Especially with Sanji.

“Do you know how bad it hurt after our last conversation to not hear from you again?” You start.

He winces. He knew that was coming.

“I’m so so sorry. I’m so sorry. It was disrespectful of me, and callous, and if you hang up and never want to speak to me again, I understand and I deserve it.”

“You do deserve it.” You say, regaining some composure. “You really do, Sanji.”

“I’m sorry.” You can hear his frown. It’s a cute one. Fuck. His cute words are playing back in your ears too. So, he loves you?

Should you tell him how you feel? How you’ve felt for a long time?

One part of you is screaming at you to get a grip. But the other part—all the other parts—are finally, finally hearing what you’ve been wanting to hear for around a year at this point. That he likes you for you. That he sees you as you, and not some dolled up object of affection that’s only there to get people off and talk dirty to them. It has never been like that between you.

“If I accept your apology, Sanji, what then?”

“I—I actually didn’t think I would make it this far. But if you accept my apology, my next step is to ask you out to dinner with me. And to ask for your phone number. Your real phone number.”

You let out a long, deep sigh. “Sanji. My love. You could have told me these things months ago. It would have saved both of us so much heartbreak. I was devastated. Do you know that?”

You know that he already profusely apologized but you feel like driving it home a bit more. He deserves it. But while you talk, his hopes start to rise. You’ve never called him ‘my love’ before. Maybe that bodes well?

“I’m so sorry. I really am.” He sounds like he means it. You trust him enough to know that he does. Well, fuck it.

“Don’t think I’ll just forget about this because I’m head over heels for you, okay?”

“You—what?” He’s caught off guard. “You are?”

“Sanji. Yes. And you could have found out ages ago. Now, when are we going to dinner? You can apologize to me again then, too. And even if you don’t like what you see, you have to pay for everything. I’m getting an appetizer, an entrée, a dessert, at least two drinks, and whatever else I want. Okay?”

He laughs in relief. “Yes, okay. Yes. Holy shit, I didn’t think you would say that. I wish I could kiss you.”

“Wait—one last thing. If you decide you don’t like me after our date, Sanji, you have to tell me there on the spot. You can’t leave me waiting for another five months. You just can’t.”

“I promise, I won’t leave you waiting. I promise.”

When you hang up the phone a few minutes later (after more twisting the knife), you’re so thrilled that you can hardly breathe.

You can’t believe this is real life. You also can’t believe how quickly you just forgot your dignity, but you’ll unpack that later.

Dinner is set for tomorrow night. 7:30PM on the dot. Sanji is calling out of work, and he’s taking you to the (second) nicest restaurant in town (his is the first, obviously, and he wants to save that for a night where he can really plan ahead and spoil you).

---

When you get to the restaurant, Sanji is already there, waiting outside with a large bouquet of flowers.

He’s more handsome than you could have imagined. Of course he is. You do have great intuition, and you knew from the start that he was sexy. But… goddamn, he is sexy.

It makes sense now what he meant by curly eyebrows. He’s dressed well, too. He’s wearing black slacks and a white button down. A few buttons are undone, and his sleeves are rolled up to his forearms. He has black loafers and black socks. And he smells good. And he smiles good.

He’s so nervous he could puke. He hopes that when he sees you the nerves will melt. But they get 20x worse because he’s enamored with you. You’re beyond his wildest dreams—no number of fantasies could have led him to guess that you look like this.

He’s so obsessed that he starts to stammer before you tell him to calm down, and that he’s making you nervous.

Over dinner, you catch up on everything you’ve missed in the past few months of silence. You fill him in on details in your life that you previously kept to yourself, and he sees a whole new side of you.

At the end of the date, he tells you that he still loves you, that he loves you even more now, and that he’s so so sorry. He says that he’s mesmerized by you, that you’re more than he could have ever dreamed of, and that you can count on him for anything.

You seal the night with a kiss. A long one. It’s so romantic that you feel a bit disturbed with how happy you are after.

And it turns out that yes, this is your big happy ending. You make a perfect pair.

Epilogue: The day that Sanji finally shows off the techniques he told you about long ago, you’re more than satisfied. In fact, it seems like he was actually underselling himself there. You always knew he was the modest type.

thanks for reading! this was inspired by a whole lot of laufey! i hope you liked it. i love sanji so much it hurts me ;(

here's my masterlist if you're interested!

divider courtesy of @cafekitsune tag list @eggrollforyou

[heartsriki]

FOR YOUR EYES ONLY ⌇편지

pairing ᝰ ni-ki x fem!reader — featuring.. jungwon | word count: 2200+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ highschool au!, fluff, misunderstandings, sunshine x grumpy.

synopsis — After seeing your tiny crush nishimura riki sneak something into the confession box you just had to investigate.

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊guys I swear ill make a non highschool au with riki soon... I couldn't help myself.. anyways its FEB!! can't wait to write valentines themed fics!

Finally.

It was your favorite month of the whole year.

You worked as a library assistant at your school—not because you particularly loved the job, but because it was better than joining a club.

Well… that’s what you told people.

In reality, you had a secret gig.

Tucked away in the most secluded part of the library was your confession box—a simple, unassuming container where students could slip in anonymous notes pouring out their feelings.

It started as something just for you. A place to vent when things got overwhelming. But then, he found out.

Jungwon.

You had no choice but to let him in on your little secret, and somehow, he became your best friend. Over time, word spread, and people started using the box themselves. What once held only your thoughts turned into a place where students whispered their love stories into folded pieces of paper.

Only Jungwon knew you were the one behind it.

And now, February had arrived—the holy grail of confessions. Sure, people submitted notes year-round, but around Valentine’s Day? The numbers spiked.

You weren’t going to lie. You loved it. Not just the thrill of reading them (and occasionally sharing the best ones with Jungwon, who never breathed a word), but the idea that you were helping people express what they were too afraid to say out loud.

So here you were, stationed at the front desk, pretending to browse book requests on the computer when a group of girls giggled their way to the back of the library.

Your eyes flickered toward them, amused. Definitely not because you were excited to read their confessions later. Nope. Definitely not.

Then, moments later—he walked in.

Riki.

The second you saw him, your instincts flared up. Suspicious.

Riki never stepped foot in the library. He barely did his assignments, let alone read for fun. So why was he here?

You watched, careful not to make it obvious. He glanced around, acting almost… nervous? And then, without a word, he disappeared into the back.

Seconds later, he reappeared from the other side—hands in his pockets, expression unreadable, walking out as if nothing had happened.

Your breath hitched.

No way.

Did Nishimura Riki just put a confession in your box?

Your hand scrambled for your phone. You had to tell someone.

You:

JUNGWONJUNGWONOMG

PLSPLSANSWERLOOKATURPHONE

Wonnie:

Ok what the hell

What is it?

You:

You are NEVER going to believe who just slid into the back of the library.

Wonnie:

Is it Jake again? Poor guy

Maybe Jay? Idk tell me

You:

Nishimura… Riki…

Wonnie:

… Fr?

Maybe he confessed to you?

You:

Right, totally.

Wonnie:

Think about it.

And you did think about it.

You and Riki had a… relationship. Not exactly a friendship, but not total strangers either.

You first met in detention.

It was your first time there, and you had no idea what you were supposed to do. So, naturally, you turned to the guy next to you—the one with his headphones on, slouched in his seat like he owned the place.

Curious, you tapped his shoulder.

He flinched, looking caught before turning to glare at you. “What?”

You blinked. “How did you sneak those in? Can I listen too?”

Before he could answer, you asked another question. “Wait, also—what are we supposed to do in here?”

His face twisted in disbelief. “What do we do in detention? You sit here. Now be quiet before—”

“Mr. Nishimura, sneaking electronics in again?” The teacher’s voice cut in, hand outstretched.

Riki groaned, slumping back in his seat before begrudgingly handing over his phone and headphones.

When the teacher walked away, he snapped his head back to you, eyes burning with betrayal.

You swore he glared at you for the rest of the day.

Ever since then, you tried to make it up to him—with snacks, lunch, even passing him worksheets to copy. Eventually, after weeks of bugging him, he forgave you.

Kind of.

Even now, he still acted so indifferent.

Whenever you waved at him in the hallway, he looked away. When you invited him to sit with you and your friends, he ignored you. Even when you walked beside him, talking about anything and everything—he barely responded.

At first, you assumed he was just bad with people. But then you saw him with his friends—laughing, joking, talking.

So why was he only like this with you?

Eventually, you gave up.

You distanced yourself, refusing to waste energy on someone who clearly wanted nothing to do with you.

But then, every now and then, you’d catch him staring—or see him approach you, only to hesitate and walk away.

It was confusing. Frustrating. You told yourself you didn’t care anymore.

Until the school trip.

It had been late at night when you were sent to fetch supplies from the shed—a small, isolated building at the edge of the woods.

You weren’t scared, but walking alone with only a flashlight wasn’t exactly comforting.

By the time you found everything, thunder rumbled outside. Moments later, the skies opened up.

Heavy rain. Lightning. The kind of downpour that turned dirt trails into slippery nightmares.

Running back wasn’t an option.

So, hugging your knees to your chest, you sat in the shed—silent, alone, trying not to cry.

Minutes passed. Then—

The door burst open.

You jumped, heart nearly stopping—until your eyes locked with his.

Riki.

He stood there, soaked from head to toe, breathless, his curls sticking to his forehead.

Did he… run here?

He didn’t speak. Just stared for a moment, like he was checking if you were okay, before stepping inside and sitting next to you.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “You’re helpless, you know that?”

You blinked, then let out a soft, teary laugh. He was trying to act tough. But he was clearly worried.

Neither of you spoke after that. You just sat there, listening to the storm. Well, you spoke—rambling like you used to, and for once, he didn’t seem to mind.

By the time the rain cleared, something between you had shifted.

And now, months later, here you were—staring at an empty confession box, knowing Riki put something inside, yet not finding his name anywhere.

Jungwon’s voice pulled you back.

“I knew I’d find you here.” He smirked. “Anything good?”

You forced a laugh, trying to mask your disappointment. “Yeah, some interesting ones. Oh—Minji completely dropped her last crush and moved on to a new one. Isn’t that crazy?”

Jungwon squinted at you. “You’re looking for Riki’s, aren’t you?”

You groaned, immediately dropping your head onto the table. “I’m pitiful. Don’t look at me.”

Jungwon laughed, dragging a chair out and sitting across from you. “You’re not pitiful. Just mildly down bad.”

You groaned, keeping your forehead against the table. “But I know he put something in there. I saw him! I was so ready to read it, but it’s like—poof!—nothing!”

Jungwon tapped his fingers on the table, thinking. “You sure he actually put something in the box?”

You lifted your head slightly. “Of course, I literally watched him sneak in.”

“Then…” Jungwon grinned knowingly. “What if he took something out?”

That made you pause. You sat up straight, eyes wide. “Wait… What?”

“Think about it,” Jungwon continued. “If he put in a confession and realized he wasn’t ready, maybe he took it back.”

Your mind raced. That… actually made sense. But why would Riki take it back? And more importantly—who was he confessing to?

The thought made your stomach twist, and you weren’t sure why.

Jungwon smirked, clearly enjoying the sight of you struggling. “You could just ask him, you know.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, right. ‘Hey, Riki! Weird question, but did you happen to steal a confession from my box?’”

“Why not?” Jungwon shrugged. “Or are you scared of the answer?”

You opened your mouth, ready to deny it, but the words never came. Were you scared? The idea of Riki confessing to someone else made your chest feel tight in a way you weren’t ready to unpack.

Before you could respond, the student council room door creaked open again.

And there he was.

Riki stood in the doorway, hands shoved into his pockets, his hair a little bit above his eyes which flickered between you and Jungwon before settling on you.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you. “Welp. That’s my cue to leave.” He patted your shoulder before slipping past Riki, whispering a quick, “Good luck,” on his way out.

The door clicked shut. Silence.

You swallowed. “Um… Did you need a book or—”

“I didn’t take it back.”

Your breath hitched.

Riki sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “The letter. I didn’t take it back.”

Your heart was pounding now. You tried to keep your voice steady. “What do you mean?”

His gaze dropped to the floor. “I put it in there without a doubt, I think… someone else removed it. Maybe it was a sign not to confess to you.”

You.

Your throat went dry. “It was… for me?”

Riki let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Obviously.”

You blinked. “Obviously? What do you mean obviously? You ignore me ninety percent of the time!”

He huffed, looking almost embarrassed. “I don’t ignore you.”

“You literally pretend not to hear me half the time!”

“Because I don’t know what to say!” Riki finally looked at you, frustration and something else—something softer—lingering in his expression. “You drive me crazy, you know that? You talk too much, you’re way too nosy, and you never leave things alone. And somehow, I—” He stopped, exhaling sharply. “I like you, okay?”

Your brain short-circuited.

Riki rolled his eyes at your stunned silence. “This is embarrassing.”

You snapped out of your trance. “Wait, wait. Back up. You like me?”

He groaned, turning toward the door. “Forget I said anything—”

You grabbed his sleeve before he could leave.

He froze.

Slowly, you grinned. “You like me.”

Riki’s ears were turning red. “Shut up.”

You laughed, warmth bubbling in your chest. You never thought you’d get anywhere with him, and yet—here he was, out of breath looking at you so fondly, confessing in the most Riki-like way possible.

February was definitely your favorite month of them all.

BONUS 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The moment Riki stepped into the library, he knew he was making a mistake.

This wasn’t his scene. He didn’t do books, didn’t do anything that required more effort than necessary. But here he was, standing in the one place he actively avoided, shoving his hands deeper into his hoodie pockets as his eyes flickered toward the back.

He could feel your gaze on him.

You were always watching him.

Not in a weird way—more like you were constantly trying to figure him out. Always with that curious glint in your eyes, like he was a puzzle you were determined to solve.

He hated it.

No, that wasn’t true. He hated that he liked it.

And now, as he made his way toward the confession box—the stupidest thing he’d ever been a part of—he was hoping you weren’t paying too much attention.

With one last glance around, he slipped to the back, pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket, and dropped it inside.

Then, without missing a beat, he walked out through the other side, playing it cool.

It took everything in him not to look back.

He could already picture the way your brain was short-circuiting, the way you were probably grabbing your phone to text Jungwon. You always told him everything, after all.

Riki swore under his breath as he left the library.

He wasn’t even sure why he did it.

Well.

That was a lie.

He knew why.

It was because of you.

Because you confused the hell out of him.

You were supposed to be annoying—loud, persistent, way too nosy for your own good. You were supposed to be someone he could easily brush off, like he did with everyone else.

But you weren’t.

Because no matter how many times he ignored your waves in the hallway, you still smiled at him. No matter how often he shut you out, you never stopped trying.

And then you stopped.

You finally gave up on him.

And for some reason, that made his chest feel too tight.

Ever since that night on the school trip, when he found you curled up alone in the shed, it had been harder and harder to act like he didn’t care.

That night, when he heard you were missing—it was like he could imagine you with red eyed, shoulders shaking—he couldn’t stop himself.

Didn’t even think.

He just ran.

Ran straight into the storm, through the rain, barely able to see a damn thing—but knowing exactly where he was going.

When he finally got there, when he saw you small and fragile under the dim light, something in him cracked.

He never wanted to see you like that again.

But he didn’t know how to tell you that.

He wasn’t good with words. He wasn’t good with feelings.

So he wrote it down instead.

It wasn’t a confession, not in the way you expected.

But it was something.

Something for your eyes only.

Something he thought you would have found by now.

So when he walked passed the student council room later that evening, seeing you and Jungwon hunched over the pile of notes, he knew immediately.

You hadn’t seen it.

Because if you had, you wouldn’t be looking for his name like he overheard.

And now, as both your heads snapped toward him, your eyes wide and startled—

Riki sighed, stepping forward.

…You took it, didn’t you? He thought looking straight at Jungwon.

Because if you didn’t find his letter in the box…

Then someone must have.

What was Jungwon playing at?

What happens next? Click

[sim0nril3y]

Oml I love your weighting style so much!!!!!

I have no idea if you’ve already done something’s like this but I think a cute little fluffy moment where reader is at the shop and one of Simon’s men run into her, they don’t know she’s daiting Simon and start flirting but soon realizes she’s Simon’s gf when he like calls or something!

Feel free not to do it but just putting it out there ❤️💗

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Note: This was such a fun request, thank you so much for requesting it! Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), canon-typical swearing.

Your eyes lingered on the wall of spices and ingredients before you. Now, what was it that Simon had said to get? Was it ground cardamom or cardamom pods? Bugger, why hadn’t you been listening? Maybe it was because you were thoroughly distracted because Simon had just gotten out of the shower, standing there in all his nude glory, water trickling down his big burlychest…

Concentrate.

Now, he had said… oh, which one was it? Think. Think… think about his strong chest and broad shoulders… his tummy and that wonderful happy trail… the way his hair was all ruffled and wet. Fuck, you were so damn lucky-

“Is there a reason that you’re looking at that spice rack like you’re about to tackle it to the ground?” A charming tone came from beside you, glancing over to see a young man standing with basket in hand, handsome smile on his face, eyes filled with humour. “Do you find spices that offensive?” He quizzed.

“What? Oh, no…” A laugh sprung from your lips then, shaking your head. This man was unreasonably pretty, tall and an intense but welcoming gaze. “No, no… I’m just trying to remember what I need…” Then your eyes wandered back to that wall of spices again.

The man hummed and then said. “Ah, so you didn’t write it down?” He quizzed, stepping forward to be beside you. “Now, that is a problem cause… I mean, there are quite a few aren’t there…” The heavy dose of sarcasm to his tone made a laugh spring from your lips. “Luckily for you I am an absolute genius when it comes to spices, so I can help you out.” The way he grinned was bordering on cocky.

“Oh, my hero~” You replied back resisting the urge to roll your eyes, but he simply chuckled and returned back. “Well, some people call me that, but you call me-”

A curt tone came from behind you. “Private Stone.” You saw the fear that shocked through him then, clearly recognising the sound of Simon’s voice with far less affection that you did. “Lt. Riley.” He hiccupped back, standing a little straighter, face far less charmingly smiley now.

Just as Simon moved to be standing by your side his arm wrapped around your waist and the message was very clear to the young man. “I’m surprise to see you swanning around off base when you have you re-test tomorrow morning. I would have thought passing that might be more crucial than chatting up birds at the supermarket.” He watched the way the Private shook his head all too quickly and held up a firm hand in his direction. “I don’t want to hear it. You better make yourself scarce.”

It was only a moment later that the Private went rushing off down the aisle away from the two of them and Simon chuckled to himself as he stepped forward to pick up the cardamom pops from the row of spices, glancing over his shoulder at you. “What?” “You had far too much fun with that.” You smirked back to him.

“Maybe.” Simon answered, stepping over to wrapped his strong arms around you, forcing his hand into the back of your jean pocket and squeezing in a tender way. “I know a way we can have more fun. C’mon, we should get home.”

Masterlist | Ask | 30-01-2025

[lanf1an]

DREAMS lando norris pt.1 When your childhood bestfriend Flo had convinced you to get the fashion design job at her brother's company Quadrant, it finally paid off when Louis Vuitton was announced as the new sponsor for F1.

pt.2 wordcount: 1378

Flo's voice filled the room as she scrolled through her phone, her excitement palpable.

"I'm telling you, this is perfect for you," Flo said, thrusting her phone in your direction.

You squinted at the screen, trying to make sense of the email she was showing you. "A job at Quadrant? Flo, I’m studying fashion design, not... whatever that is."

Flo looked up, her brows furrowed as if you’d just said something ridiculous. "What do you mean? It can be. Look at Tommy Hilfiger. Or Lewis Hamilton—his fashion work, hosting the Met Gala, working with big brands. F1’s bigger than you think, and it’s not just about cars."

"Haha, Flo, what are you talking about?" you said, shaking your head at the idea. "F1 is not really the place I want to be for my fashion stuff."

You paused, realizing you hadn’t really thought about it like that before. You’d never paid much attention to Formula 1, aside from the occasional updates Flo gave you about Lando. It had been years since you'd spent any real time with him. As kids, you'd catch fleeting glimpses of each other whenever he wasn’t off karting or, later, racing. But you knew Lewis Hamilton. He had enormous influence. He’d collaborated with brands you admired and pushed boundaries in the fashion world.

"Maybe not," Flo said, leaning forward with a knowing grin. "But there could be great opportunities"

"And trust me, Quadrant desperately needs someone like you. You’ve seen their merch, right? It’s..." She continued.

"Basic?" you offered, arching an eyebrow, Flo had already showed you the designs before in an attempt for you to improve them.

"Exactly! They’re looking for someone to revamp their designs. You’re always talking about how things could be better.''

You sipped your coffee, considering her words. It wasn’t your dream job, but the thought of improving a brand and the opportunities that came with it was oddly tempting.

"Fine," you said, setting your mug down. "I’ll think about it."

Flo grinned like she'd won the lottery. "You’ll kill it. Trust me."

-

The buzz around Quadrant’s new merch started slowly but picked up pace when a few photos of Lando wearing your designs at the paddock made their way online. Suddenly, it wasn’t just fans buying hoodies and tees, people in the fashion and sports world were taking notice, and journalists started to make comparisons you weren’t sure anyone expected.

“Is Lando Norris the next Lewis Hamilton?” one article headline read.

Another went deeper: “From driver to brand icon: How Lando Norris and Quadrant are reshaping athlete influence.”

It had been surreal to watch the shift, you had worked hard. Max had been supportive from the start, seeing the vision. Keegan had actually become a reliable creative partner, having similar styles and taste. Lando had been the same as when you were kids, you had barely seen him, too busy racing, handling his CEO duties from afar.

And now, after months of hard work, it was all leading to something bigger.

-

The first time at the paddock was overwhelming. The heat, the constant movement, the blur of media, mechanics, and drivers navigating their way through the chaos—it was a world you still didn’t quite belong to. Even though it did bid a uncanny resemblance to the chaos of the fashion world, which intrigued you.

You watched as the photographers snapped pictures of Lando and the team in their latest Quadrant pieces. The collection had taken months to finalize, and the response had been overwhelming—more press than usual, more attention, more recognition.

“You’re the one behind all this, aren’t you?”

You turned at the voice, surprised to find yourself face to face with Lewis Hamilton. He was dressed effortlessly, a silk LV shirt under an unbuttoned suit vest, sunglasses perched on his nose.

You blinked. “I—uh. Sorry?”

Lewis smiled knowingly. “The Quadrant collection. It’s you.”

You hesitated. “I mean… it’s a team effort.”

“Sure,” he said, his grin widening. “But I know talent when I see it.”

Her stomach flipped. Compliments were one thing, but this—coming from him—felt different.

“I’ve been following your work,” Lewis continued, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You’ve got a fresh perspective. Louis Vuitton is partnering with F1. They want to bring in new talent, I tipped you.” Your breath caught. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

You stared at him, waiting for the catch, but there wasn’t one. He was just… offering this. Just like that.

“I—” You glanced over at the Quadrant shoot, where Lando was laughing with the guys, completely unaware of the conversation happening across the paddock. “Thank you so much.”

Lewis smiled. “You’ll be hearing from them soon. Excited to work together.”

And with that, he was gone, disappearing into the paddock like he hadn’t just cracked your entire world open in a two-minute conversation. Flo had turned to be right after all.

-

Louis Vuitton had officially announced their F1 partnership, and with it, their campaign featuring a select group of drivers. The second she saw Lando’s name on the list, you knew there was no avoiding it. You hadn’t expected it, even though it made sense after Quadrant’s succes and having already worked together. Still, you hadn’t expected to be working with him again, especially not like this. He hadn't shown too much emotion when you left Quadrant, but you knew he wasn't happy about it.

Now, standing in the Louis Vuitton studio, flipping through the fitting schedule, you could feel his glare when the door opened before looking up.

"From Quadrant to Louis V," Lando mused, his voice light but edged with something unreadable. "Look at us."

You finally glanced up. He walked around inspecting the room, sunglasses perched on his head, fingers brushing against the fabric of a tailored jacket. His expression was casual, like he wasn’t really thinking about what he’d just said. Like it was just an observation.

You gave a small shrug. "Who would've thought."

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he turned toward the fitting area. "Thought you could get rid of me, huh?"

“Alright, first look,” you said, flipping through your notes without looking up.

Lando sighed dramatically. “Do I really need to try all of these on?”

You shot him a look. “Unless you suddenly developed a sense of style overnight, yes.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, grabbing the set from the rack.

You turned you back as he changed, focusing on adjusting the pins on one of the outfits. It wasn’t the first time you’d been in a fitting with Lando, but this was different. The Louis Vuitton studio was quieter than Quadrant HQ, the lighting softer, there was no Max, no Keegan, no distractions.

“Okay,” Lando said, stepping forward. “What do you think?”

You turned—and fuck.

The suit fit him unfairly well. The sharp tailoring, the way the fabric moved with him—it was annoyingly perfect. Which meant you had done a great job.

You forced yourself to be professional, stepping closer to fix his collar. “Hold still.”

Lando stayed quiet as you smoothed the lapels, fingers brushing against his chest. The silence felt thick, aware of how close you were.

“Looks good,” you said, voice even. “But the pants need adjusting.”

You knelt down, reaching for the hem.

You could feel his eyes on you as you adjusted the fabric, fingers skimming his ankle, making sure the length was right. You refused to look up, but you could hear him breathe in, then exhale slowly.

“Comfortable down there?” he asked, voice casual, but you could hear his smirk.

You rolled your eyes, unable for him to see. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Lando huffed out a laugh, but when you did glance up—just for a second—his jaw was tight. Like he was the one struggling.

You stood, smoothing out the jacket. “Alright,” you said, stepping back, regaining distance. “I think we’re done here.”

Lando tilted his head. “You sure? Thought you liked bossing me around now.”

You smirked. “If I really wanted to boss you around, Lando, you’d know it.”

He blinked, caught off guard for just a second.

Then he grinned. “Noted.”

WN: new storyyyy wooooop, literally already had this fashion job at quadrant in my drafts and then the LV partnership was announced i had to implement that and post it

[rhiannonsknife]

hii!! i know you are busy with the but im a cheerleader nat fic, but do you think you might maybe write more for Lottie?

also thoughts on meangirl Lottie.. i feel like when she first meets someone she can be a little guarded, wanting to keep her image so when you call her out on her bs she feels attacked and then starts a rivalry between the two.. anyways to summarise meanlottie tension with the new girl on the team when Lottie takes it too far and says something really mean at a party and new girl storms off but Lottie finds her and shows her how much she DOESNT hate her because shes actually a softie but she kind of treats new girl as a punching bag bc shes new and called her out

Im genuinely so sorry if this doesnt make sense i am so bad at explaining but i have a vision i swear😔

🫎 anon :)

i love this idea so much 🫎 anon!! hopefully i got your vision here!!

lottie matthews, you should’ve realized sooner, is untouchable.

at least, that’s how she wants people to perceive her.

everyone on the team knows better than to test lottie; even jackie, the whs’ golden girl in her own right, lets her have her moments.

you, on the other hand? you’re new. maybe that’s why you didn’t seem to get the memo right from the beginning.

it starts small enough: a subtle jab at practice, a teasing remark about your form, the kind of thing that could be dismissed as playful banter if not for the smug tone in lottie’s voice. and then there are the looks: the way her dark eyes flick over you during drills, sizing you up for reasons you can’t seem to wrap your head around.

it doesn’t take long for you to call her out.

“got something to say, matthews?” you ask one day, sharp enough to draw a few surprised glances from your teammates.

for a second, lottie looks genuinely caught off guard. and then her mask slips back into place, her lips curving into that insufferably confident smile. “i’m just looking out for the team,” she says. “can’t have the new girl slowing us down.”

from that moment on, it’s war between you.

lottie calls you out for each fumbled pass in practice. in the locker room, she’s leaning against the row of lockers closest to yours, waiting for you to pass to call out a snarky comment. and even during team meetings, when you make a suggestion about changing up a play, lottie scoffs. “sure,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “let’s just toss out what’s been working because you think you know better!”

things only reach a breaking point weeks later, at one of the parties.

you don’t even remember what starts it: some offhand comment about your outfit, maybe, or the way you’ve been talking to nat a little too long for lottie’s liking. either way, her words hit harder this time, meaner than usual.

“god, you’re so desperate to fit in,” she says suddenly “it’s pathetic!”

the words land like a slap, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

for a second, all you can do is stare at her, your chest tight and your pulse pounding in your ears. lottie doesn’t look away. she stands her ground, her arms still crossed over her chest.

nat shifts beside you, clearly uncomfortable, but she doesn’t intervene. no one does.

you don’t trust yourself to speak, not when your voice feels like it might crack and give her the satisfaction she’s so clearly looking for. instead, you turn on your heel and push through the crowd, ignoring the whispers as you walk out.

lottie finds you a little while later, sitting on the back steps of the house with your head in your hands. you don’t hear her approach until she’s right beside you and says: “i shouldn’t have said that,”

you flinch, whipping around to face her. “what do you want, lottie?” you snap. “haven’t you done enough for one night?”

her usually upright posture falters as she stuffs her hands into the pockets of her jacket, her gaze flicking between you and the ground. “i didn’t mean it,” lottie says, quieter this time. “i just…i don’t know.” she sighs, running a hand through her hair. “you get under my skin!”

you let out a bitter laugh. “glad i could be of service then”

“that’s not-” lottie cuts herself off. “i’m not good at this, okay? you called me out, and i didn’t know how to deal with it, so i pushed back. too hard. i know that.”

when you look up, you’re surprised to see something raw in her expression. regret.

“i don’t hate you,” she says finally, her voice soft but insistent. “i don’t even think i dislike you, if i’m being honest. i just…i don’t know how to handle you!”

before you can respond, lottie crouches in front of you, close enough that you can see the faint flush on her cheeks. “you’re not pathetic,” she murmurs. “far from it. and i’m sorry if i made you feel like you were!”

you’re unsure how to process the vulnerability she’s laying bare. this isn’t the untouchable, put-together lottie you’ve come to know. this is someone softer, someone who’s trying, even if she doesn’t quite know how.

lottie seems to take your lack of an answer as a bad sign, her lips pressing into a thin line. “let me make it up to you,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “please.”

[screamlet]

“I wish you would write a fic where…” Through whatever contrivance, Buck tries to woo Tommy back through trivia. Maybe he gets Tommy’s team in on it, or the emcee/host - but it’s all Tommy-themed questions because Buck is trying to prove he knows him. Does it work? Maybe it’s all surface level and it hurts Tommy as much as he appreciates it. Maybe he revealed more than he thought and Buck was listening, taking it all in. Maybe Tommy decided to participate against him and inadvertently reveals something or accidentally says he loves him or something. If you would like it, I humbly offer whatever you can do with this premise!

heeeeey it took one million years but here's something!!! i love shenanigans, i hope this lives up to them.

bucktommy fix-it, 2k

read on the ao3!

---

Tommy's not exactly kidnapped.

He's met in the parking lot at Harbor by Hen, Karen, and a couple of big smiles, and then shoved into the backseat of their car and driven off somewhere. 

"You know, it's been my experience that some people text when they want to hang out," Tommy says.

"So you did ignore my voicemails!" Karen yells. "I knew it."

"It's not personal!" Tommy says.

"I'm taking it very personal," Hen replies. "Like hell you're leaving the Christmas card list again." 

"I'll move."

"Not in this housing market."

Tommy groans because it's true. 

And see, that's a little crazy but a little fun, to know that they care enough to abduct him and take him out for the night. It's then not really surprising that Howie's waiting for them at the bar they used to frequent ages ago, when Tommy was still at the 118. 

"I got the cuffs," Howie announces, a pair of very-real looking handcuffs dangling from his fingers.

"Those better not be for me," Tommy says as Karen pulls him out of the car with shocking strength. 

"Don't worry, they're not LAPD property," Hen assures him. "They're Bobby's."

"Please stop making me learn things," Tommy says.

He's already handcuffed. Howie's living-with-a-toddler sleight-of-hand has gotten unreal. 

It's around this time that one shock wears off and another dawns: this is a scheme and Tommy is trapped.

"No no no no, whatever you're doing—"

"Chim, no!"

The bar's tables have been cleared from the center to make two long tables facing each other. Fine, cute, two teams, it's now clear to Tommy that he has to win Evan back or something with trivia. The difference, though, are the two chairs in the center, where Evan is already sitting (and handcuffed). He turns around, almost tipping the chair over except Eddie catches him. 

"Fine, whatever," Tommy says as he's sat in the chair next to Evan. To make things better/worse (because Evan's so fucking squirmy), their chairs are put back to back so they can be tied together, too. "Oh, we're going full Last Crusade, are we, Howie?" Tommy has to grunt because Athena ties a really, really good knot and again: he wishes he knew less. 

"If you had answered your phone," Bobby says coolly. "If you had bubbled less and texted more—"

Tommy whips his head around and smashes his skull right into Evan's. "Goddamn—you saw that? Why didn't you text, if you were just sitting there watching me type?"

Evan struggles against everything keeping them together, then finally says, "Because you left and you didn't want me! If you wanted me, you would have called! And now we're—" One more hard thrash that gets Tommy in the shoulder. "Kidnapped and this is your fault."

"It's my fault? You wanted me to give up—"

"No I didn't! I said something dumb and you walked out before—"

"No, no, no, we can talk later," Eddie says. "It's time for Buckley-Kinard Family Feud."

Tommy and Evan turn their heads at the same time. "The hell are you talking about?" Tommy asks. 

"It's time to draft your teams," Hen announces. "I'm hosting, so I'm removing myself from the pool."

"This isn't fair! It's Buck's family—"

"You didn't just call me that in front of everyone," Evan hisses. 

"It's Buck's family against me, I don't have anyone—"

"I'm drafting myself," Howie announces. "Buck, your turn."

"Fine, I pick Maddie," Evan replies.

"Don't sound too thrilled," she replies. 

"Your next pick?" Hen asks Tommy.

"I told you, I don't—"

Bobby comes over to his side.

"You're insane," Tommy says. 

"That's not fair!" Evan yells.

"I met him first, Buck," Bobby says placidly. 

"Yeah, but—ugh, fine, then I pick Athena." Evan turns his head and bumps into Tommy's again. "You better not pick Eddie."

"I'm picking Karen," Tommy says. "She's my friend who's a lesbian—"

He can feel Evan tense against his back, probably out of frustration and a deep, deep desire to slam his skull into Tommy's again. He doesn't know how Evan resists.

"I've been bisexual for like, nine months, could you cut me some slack?" Evan asks.

"You spent an entire afternoon reading me articles and watching videos about the three-body problem and you couldn't fucking bother—"

"Because then I'd know," Evan yells. "I'd know that you and me were too good to be true, and I'd know that it was just temporary, and I'd know that you can't live your whole life one way and suddenly a guy kisses you and everything, everything is different, and your life's completely changed! I'd find something that would tell me it can't happen, it's probably not real, and then I'd realize I was wasting your time because I can never really change. If I looked at us too hard, I'd know it was just—"

Tommy's so overwhelmed, his chest so tight, that all he can manage to say is: "Yeah, it's called biphobia, and if you had asked, I don't know, one of the three gay people in your life—"

"I didn't know what to ask, Tommy! Fuck!" Evan tries to struggle out of their bindings again, but then he stops. "Apologize to me for being such a dick about this." 

The room is tense and quiet, eerily quiet, until Tommy finally says, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay? You're right and I'll stop throwing that at you. It's really unfair. It's unfair of me and unfair of, I don't know, the whole world, that made you think this could never be for you."

"That you could be it for me," Evan corrects.

"Sure, whatever." Tommy's voice is nowhere near as light and bitchy as he meant that to sound. "So are we gonna play this game or what? Now that we've got some teams of dubious quality?"

Bobby takes a seat at what is now, apparently, the Team Tommy table. "I know you like fresh pasta because then you can have soft pasta and no one will call you a heretic for not liking it al dente." 

"That's psychotic," Tommy says. "And no one cooks it true al dente, it's always just barely cooked and I shouldn't have to chomp on pasta like a horse to enjoy it!"

Evan says, "And all of you said I was the weird one and he was the normal one."

"Literally no one said that, Buck," Eddie says. "You're both absurd, that's why you're perfect for each other."

"Well," Evan says, "I know you were thinking it."

"You were thinking it, and sometimes thoughts have to make it out of your mouth for people to hear them," Tommy snaps.

The entire room bursts into an uproar and Tommy tries to struggle out of his chair again. "Fine, fine, I'm a huge hypocrite, can I get a point for admitting it!" 

"Yes, just one," Hen says. "Alright, gather up, teams. Bobby and Maddie, you're up first."

"This is a nightmare, this is a nightmare," Tommy whispers to himself. "I crashed my helicopter and this is hell."

"Hey, Mr. Keeping Your Thoughts Inside, we can't hear the question," Howie says.

"You're on my team, you have to be nice to me!"

Howie dramatically pops his piece of gum and says nothing.

"This first question is in the category of fashion," Hen reads off her phone. The TV over the bar has turned on to show a Family Feud style board with four options and Tommy can't believe his vision of hell is this detailed. It's impressive. "Name one novelty apron belonging to either Buck or Tommy."

Bobby slams his hand on the buzzer that someone brought for the occasion. "Tommy has one that says Warning: Fowl Language and it has a rooster on it." Bobby points at Tommy and says, "Sal gave it to you for your fake birthday, which is June 13, but your real birthday is in November."

The room is quiet again.

"You had a fake birthday?" Evan asks.

Tommy looks up at the ceiling. This means that he and Evan's heads are touching and he can't help but lean into it a little. He doesn't go any further, though. "Did I mention I'm like… that there's a lot of things wrong with me?"

"Yeah, these are really struggling to stay in the quirks category," Karen says. "But hell yes, one point! Let's go, Bobby!"

Bobby rejoins the team and Hen strolls down to their side of the room. "Now, Karen: can you name another apron that Tommy owns?"

Karen winces. "Okay, this can be any apron?"

"Any apron," Hen agrees.

"Alright, then I'm gonna say… a plain, utilitarian grey apron that he wears because he doesn't want to use the nice ones." 

Hen says, "Show me boring!"

The word charcoal appears on the board with a (2) next to it.

"Two charcoal ones?" Maddie asks. "Tommy, love yourself."

"Yeah, I think that's the point here and I hate it," Tommy replies.

"Alright, Chim," Hen says. "Name another apron in Tommy's kitchen."

"I think we all saw Buck's lockscreen this summer," Howie says. "Tommy in a sleeveless shirt with a black apron that said Flippin' Awesome and had two spatulas crossed on the front."

"Show me spatulas!" Hen calls out. Another point. 

"Cheap shot," Tommy says. "Evan gave me that, of course you knew that."

"Hey, genius, how do you think people learn things about each other?" Howie asks. "Hen, take it away." 

"Alright, Team Buck," Hen says, wandering over to Maddie. "Name an apron you can find in Buck's kitchen." She turns her head and says, "And don't think we didn't notice he's Evan again."

Tommy turns his head away and whispers to Evan, "Can you make them stop? Please?"

"Sorry, do you think I wanted to be tied and handcuffed to you tonight?" A beat. "Okay, that's not—whatever, I'm suffering here, too."

"Are you?"

Evan huffs. "I'm tired of chasing after people who don't want me, and you don't want me." 

Tommy stays quiet as Team Buck racks up bonus points for Evan's punny apron collection. 

"I thought you'd call or text, or come over," Evan says, voice quieter. "You said, no matter how bad I want to be, so I thought… I don't know. I waited, Tommy. That didn't feel like the end. And you never answered my voicemails, so."

"I haven't checked my voicemail in five months," Tommy admits. "I saw you left a couple the week after and I just—I couldn't. I knew I'd—I'd press play and before you'd even said Hey I would be in my truck on my way to you."

"And would that have been so bad?"

Tommy drops his head down. "I wanted a clean break so we could both walk away." 

"Tommy," Evan whispers. "No matter how bad you want that to be true… it's not."

Tommy nods to himself. "I'm sorry."

"I should have come after you," Evan says. "I should have broken down your door or, I don't know, hung onto your helicopter like Captain America."

"Yeah, good luck," Tommy laughs. 

Between them, Evan's fingertips reach for Tommy's. They cling the best they can, and Tommy—he clings back. 

"Do you mean it or do you just want to get away from everyone?" Evan asks.

"Well, apparently I can't get away from them." Evan laughs dryly, so Tommy clutches his fingers again. "I mean it. Both of those things. If they take the cuffs off, I won't run. Will you?"

Evan laughs. "Only if you'll follow."

"Then we should make a break for it."

"You got it."

---

read on the ao3!

[razorblade180]

Alter Ego

Summer:Mom, can I dye my hair?

Weiss:Nope. Find another way to rebel.

Summer:It’s not about rebelling. There’s an underground open mic concert in Mantle. I’m tired of wearing hoods and masks as a disguise. It gets in the way of my singing.

Weiss:….

Summer:What?

Weiss:You’ve seen me in a black wig and red eyes and thought you had to dye your hair? Make an alter ego. *points to closet*

Summer:Really!?

Weiss:Yeah. Knock yourself out. Find what works.

Summer:Yussss! *dives into closet*

Two hours passed by and a lot of clothes begin pile up.

Jaune:*walks in* Hey I’m back. Brought coffee.

Nora:And friends~

Ruby:Technically family. I’m here to raid your fridge.

Ren:I’m here to make sure Nora doesn’t.

Weiss:Can you stop Ruby? *sips coffee*

Ren:One is hard enough.

Ruby:What’s with the fashion storm? Coco call you for a show?

Weiss:My daughter is currently in the closet trying on her fortieth altar ego disguise for an underground concert.

Jaune:So in the end, I did have a child with Bleiss.

Weiss:You and her had many things, a child is not one of them.

Jaune:Not for lack of trying.

Weiss:*red* That’s for sure.

Ruby:You two are gross.

Summer:You’re all gross if you ask me!

Weiss:Are you ready yet!? You have an entire audience now.

Summer:Oh yeah! This is the one! I’m definitely feeling it!

The door slides open and Summer jumps out. Time itself felt a thousand times slower as a bright red ponytail came into view. Stunning green contact lens caused coffee to go down poorly, choking Weiss while the others felt frozen.

Summer popped out with the widest grin. She wore a small black leather jacket over a dark green shirt with yellow nerves running down it from the left shoulder. Black tights were worn under a matching studded miniskirt that paired will with green and yellow laced black boots. Summer never felt cooler in her life!

WRNJR:..

Summer:Pretty awesome right!? I’m usually not into skirts but i figured if I’m trying to be unrecognizable, this is how to do it! Oh! Maybe I need punk rock gloves or something. How are feeling about the red wig and green hair combo?

Jaune:Umm-

Summer:Gonna be honest, I think I look pretty cute. Never tried these colors together like…it works! *grinning*

Ruby:Are we married to the idea of the ponytail?

Summer:It’s for head banging on stage! It’ll probably come out a little later or if I get a headache. Dad, how do I look?

Jaune:…*smiles* Like you’re ready to wow the world.

Summer:Hehe, right!? I can see why you like red so much auntie. I’m feeling pretty confident right about now. *stands proudly*

Ren:Like you’re invincible?

Summer:Yeah! You get it.

Nora:*smiles warmly* You’re going to need a name.

Weiss:Be better than me your aunt.

Ruby:Bleiss was a good idea.

Weiss:No, it was the only idea and it stuck.

Summer:Welp…Winter is taken. How about Autumn?

WRNJR:Try again….

Summer:Wow, tough crowd. Hmmm.

Weiss:….Gild. Like the process.

Summer:Aah, that’s nice. Has a sense of irony to it considering this is a disguise! Not to mention the yellow. Gild, people can chant that! Now for a last name for the announcers…*rubs chin*

Nora:JNRR

Ren:You’re asking for her to get caught. Especially if you want her to spell it like I think you do.

Jaune:…Go with Arkos. With a “k”

Weiss:!? Jaune, are you…alright with that?

Jaune:*nods* I never really got to use it. Might as well finally be a code name.

Summer:Isn’t using something close to your last name a little risky?

Jaune:Trust me, nobody will get it.

Summer:I guess that’s true if I spell it like you said. Heh, I kinda always wanted to use your surname in something. Schnee gets bothersome.

Weiss:Agreed.

Summer:And hey, it’s kinda like I’m still honoring you too auntie! I can’t use Summer, but Arkos is pretty close to Arc-Rose.

Ruby:That’s definitely one way to look at that name. Hehe, I appreciate the sentiment.

Gild:Gild Arkos. Hmm, not half bad. Let’s make it a test run and i can work out the details if this goes well. Oh this concert is gonna rule! I can finally go all out and sing songs i don’t get the chance to. I gotta go find my journals and pick! Thanks guys! Love ya. *runs off*

……..

Weiss:I’m sorry this spiraled so quickly. You can take the coffee back and raid the fridge.

Ren:I don’t think anyone would’ve imagined out of all the makeup combinations…Do you think we could convince her to change contacts?

Nora:I’m sure when she stops caring about what she should sing on a “proper stage” this phase will end.

Jaune:It’s fine guys. She’s happy. Besides, if she’s like her mother, it’ll be a random occurrence. That being said, I never realized our kids might only know Pyrrha’s image through her statue.

Ruby:We don’t exactly have many photos together, do we? She we show her?

Jaune:Maybe another time. Let my girl be a rockstar.

Nora:You just don’t want your daughter to see you in a dress.

Jaune:And?

Weiss:*rubs his back* I guess the world really is full of surprises. You sure you’re alright?

Jaune:Cut me a little slack. I may not be invincible but I know how to roll with the punches. *grins* If you think I need cheering up though, I’m sure Bleiss has some ideas.

Weiss:*blushing*…She might.

Ruby:Eugh. Raiding your fridge. C’mon you two. *walking away*

Ren:Ruby, don’t you literally sleep with her brother at his office for fun?

Ruby:And that right there is why I’m helping Nora get passed you so she can help eat everything. You’ve drawn your line in the sand.

Nora:Honestly I’m interested in the idea of changing my wardrobe for laughs. Remember my goth phase? That was fun.

[ozwriterchick]

Back to Us - Chapter 10 (Final)

Summary: Y/n wakes after an accident to her Avengers team-mates. But something isn't quite right and only Steve and Tony can see it.

Characters/Relationships: Steve Rogers x Reader; Tony Stark; Natasha Romanoff; Other Avengers Characters

Content warnings: Mentions of an accident (no details yet); If I missed any, let me know

A/N: If you want to be tagged, let me know.

Not beta'd so any mistakes are my own. I don't write smut, but there are allusions to smut in my stories.

Back to Us Masterlist

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Word count: 2055 (approx.)

64.media.tumblr.com

GIF by dazedandkaitfused

Later that afternoon, Wanda & Nat help you get ready for your date with Steve.  They do your hair and makeup and help you pick a dress that will knock Steve’s socks off.

The red dress you found in your closet just called to you when you flicked through everything and Nat and Wanda exchanged glances when you sighed and said “This is the one.”

At exactly 6pm, there’s a knock on the door and all of a sudden you have a stomach full of butterflies.  You open the door to Steve standing there in a navy suit with a tie that is very close to matching the blue of his eyes.

“Well, Captain Rogers, you look very handsome.  I love the suit.  Maybe we should have met downstairs, cause I might not want to go anywhere right now.” You say, blushing and thanking your lucky stars that Nat & Wanda are no longer with you.  They would have teased you mercilessly for a long time over that one.

Steve laughs “I agree sweetheart, you look simply ravishing and I really would love nothing better than to see that dress on the floor, but we have reservations, so we have to get going.”

You laugh and kiss him before turning and walking in front of him down the stairs, swinging your hips as you go.

After about a half hour drive, you pull up outside a vaguely familiar restaurant.

“Steve, we’ve been here before, haven’t we?” you asked as he holds the car door open for you and offers you his hand to help you out.

“That we have gorgeous.  In fact, it’s one of our favourite places for a nice dinner out.”

You walk in and the hostess greets you like old friends.  You try to remember her but can’t quite place her in your head yet.  She leads you to a seat in the back that is fairly secluded and lit up with lots of candles.  There’s a bunch of red roses on the table and you look at Steve.

“Are these for me?” He nods. “They’re gorgeous.  How did I get so lucky?”

“I think I’m the lucky one, honey.  Sit, sit.  First course will be out shortly.”

Dinner is incredible, you wish you remembered this place but hope that the memories will come back to you like all the others. 

The conversation flows nicely and you feel like Steve is trying to make you remember some of the smaller stuff by bringing up stories from your relationship.

When dinner is done, Steve suggests going for a walk before you head home.  You agree quickly because it’s beautiful clear weather, and you really don’t want the night to end.

You head towards a local park nearby, hand in hand and Steve goes very quiet. 

“Penny for your thoughts, Cap?”

Steve stops and turns to face you, he grabs your hands and lifts one and presses a kiss on the back of your hand.

“I got very lucky the day you agreed to be mine.  Over the past couple of months I thought I’d lost you totally, and my heart couldn’t have been happier than when you remembered us.”

He leads you around the corner for you to see the small jetty in the park, over a lake that is twinkling in the starlight, all lit up with fairy lights and more roses.

“Steve, when did you do this?”

“Y/n, I love you with all my heart, with everything I am and everything I have.”

He gets down on one knee and pulls a box out of his pocket.  Opening the box you see a gorgeous diamond ring.

“I got lucky once, but I would be the luckiest guy in the world to be able to do this twice with the same woman.

Y/n, will you be my wife, will you be mine for the rest of our lives?”

You realise you are crying, as is Steve, but your answer is obvious “Yes Steve, of course. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather do this with twice.”  You both laugh, through your tears.

He stands up and puts the ring on your finger and you kiss.  Just then you hear a commotion and look up to see Nat & Wanda heading across the park crying with happiness and demanding to see the ring - even though they already knew what it looked like.

You realise they would have helped Steve out with this, and keeping an eye on it while you had dinner.

All of a sudden a memory hits you and you gasp.

“Y/n, sweetheart is everything ok?” Steve asks, hoping you aren’t changing your mind.

“Oh Steve, this is exactly how you planned our first engagement isn’t it.  I just remembered.”

“Only the best for you my gorgeous girl.  It was perfect the first time, and if you never remembered it, I wanted you to have it as the memory of our engagement.”

You start crying again at his sweetness and thoughtfulness to give you this amazing memory the exact same as the first time.  You throw your arms around his neck and smash your lips to his, to which he immediately kisses you back, putting his hand on the back of your head.

A few minutes later, you hear a clearing of a throat and remember that Nat & Wanda are here with you, so you apologise and suggest you all head back to the compound.

Tony is waiting as you enter the common room the next morning. “Hey you lovebirds, how are things, any progress on the rest of the memories?”

“Not much more than last night I’m afraid.” You say sadly. “But we’ve been enjoying ‘getting to know each other’ again.”

Tony laughs “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Shut up old man.” You laugh at his statement as if he is double your age.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” Tony asked.

“Y/n wanted me to tell her about Noah, she remembered me mentioning him and my reaction when she didn’t remember him yesterday.  We wanted to see what your thoughts were on that one - we don’t want to jeopardise any progress Y/n’s already made.” Steve explained to Tony.

Tony calls Bruce in to get his input on this one.

“Well, given she has most of her memories back except this one, maybe it’s not too big a leap?” Bruce suggests.

“Right, well, I need to go do something,” Steve says. “I’ll be back soon and we’ll talk then, ok Y/n?”

“Oh, ok, are you sure you need to leave now?  Like, right now?”

“Yes, Sweetheart, but I’ll be back as soon as quickly as I can.”

Steve leaves and you look at Tony & Bruce who shrug.  They both know where he’s going and what he’s doing but they don’t want to spoil anything.

“Well, if he’s going somewhere, I’m going to go for a run to clear my head and hopefully he’ll be back before, or just after I am.”  You head up to your room to change and head out into the compound gardens, following the running path that Tony had installed so you could all exercise outside in the fresh air.

The breeze in your face grounds you and makes you happy, but not as happy as knowing that Steve never cheated on his fiancé with you, that you are his fiancé, and all is now right with the world and that soon, you would find out about Noah.

Steve returns to the compound a little while later with Noah.

“Tony, where’s Y/n?” he asks.

“She went for a run Steve, hopefully won’t be too long.  Hey mini Cap, you wanna come with me and get something to eat?” he asks Noah.

Noah looks excitedly to Steve.  Apart from you, Steve and his honorary aunts and uncles, food is one of his favourite things.

“Thanks Tony,” Steve answers. “Hey Buddy, how about you go with Uncle Tony and we will see you soon.”

Noah nods and Tony takes his hand and leads him to the kitchen.  Steve sits in the lounge with Bruce, waiting for Y/n to come back from her run.

Tony re-enters the lounge and looks around “Isn’t she back yet?  I don’t think I can fit any more food into this kid.”  Noah is now sitting at the coffee table, drawing and colouring.

“What time did she go for her run,” Steve asks them. “It’s a couple of hours since I left to get Noah, she should be back by now.”

Steve starts freaking out, hoping she hasn’t left again, or worse.  He tries to hide his worry from Noah, because he doesn’t need to see that right now.

Tony asks Friday to call everyone together.

FRIDAY: All Avengers, please meet in the lounge immediately

The Avengers assemble in the lounge and Tony tells them Y/n went for a run about 2.5 hours ago and hasn’t returned. 

“Noah is here, waiting to see Y/n for the first time in months, so we need to find her.  Let’s all spread out and look.  Stay on Comms and let me know if you see anything.” Tony explains.

The Avengers spread out and searched the compound grounds for you.  After about half an hour, they all came back to the lounge, no sign of you at all.

Steve is getting anxious so he starts Noah’s night-time routine to distract himself.

“Steve, is her phone here?” Bruce asks him.

“I can’t see it, but hang on let me ring it.” Steve dials your number and listens to it ring.. and ring.. and ring. “It’s ringing, she’s not answering, but it’s ringing.”

Tony sighs. “Ok, maybe we can track it - I don’t know why we didn’t think of it before.  Sorry Steve.”

“Just find her Tony, I can’t lose her, Noah can’t lose her.”

All of a sudden, a commotion downstairs interrupts their conversation.  They look at each other and Tony runs downstairs.  Nat comes up and tells Steve to go, she’ll keep an eye on Noah for now.

Steve runs downstairs to see you on one of the beds in the lab.

“What the hell happened?” Steve demanded.

“Language Steve.” Bucky laughed, trying to cut the tension with a little humour.

“Now is not the time Buck.  What happened to her?”

Bucky explains “I found her, she’d fallen and was unconscious when I got to her, I hope this doesn’t put her memory recovery back, can you tell if she hit her head yet?”

“It doesn’t look like it,” Bruce answers. “It could just be the shock of the fall.  But we’ll have to wait for her to wake up.”

“I can’t do this again.  What if she doesn’t wake up this time.” Steve worries.

The Avengers all try to comfort Steve, not knowing what else to do.

Time jump - 2 Days have passed and you are still unconscious. 

Even Tony is worried at this point. “We might have to transfer her to the hospital if she doesn’t wake up today.”

“Geez are you two ladies all right, no hospital, ok?” you try to joke.

“Y/n, you’re awake, how are you feeling?” Tony asks you, hopeful that your memory hadn’t gone backwards.

“A little groggy and a splitting headache, but ok otherwise I think.  What happened?  I remember Steve left to get Noah and I went for a run.”

Steve’s eyes went wide as he looked at you and took in what you said.  “Wait, you knew I went to get Noah?”

You laugh at his shock “Well, where else would you have gone, he wasn’t here and he needs his Mum & Dad.  Where is he? I need to see him.”

“Oh my gosh sweetheart, I’ll go get him.”

Steve runs upstairs and returns with Noah who gets super excited to see his Mummy.  You hold your hands out to him and he practically jumps out of Steve’s arms into yours, giggling the whole time.

“Mummy, I miss you. Don’ go ‘way ‘gen, ‘k?” Noah asks flashing you his big blue-green puppy-dog eyes, exactly like his Dad’s.

“I won’t bubba, I’m here to stay forever.” You reply to him.

“My family is back together” Steve says incredulously.

THE END. Maybe…

Tag List: @wolfbeanpotion @vioplay19 @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @crazyunsexycool @zaraomarrogers @bitchy-bi-trash @mrsnikstan @harrysnovia @salemslostwitch

[sleepymccoy]

Okay I have work to do but I keep thinking about this plot bunny instead so I'm just gonna write it out. I'm not actually gonna write the fic cos if imma write amnesia I'll do my og story that I'm working on, but I reckon that story idea is what made this one come up in my head

Anyway, enjoy a synopsis

Basically, background is mirror Spock forced a permanent bond with McCoy when he went so hard so fast on the mind meld. When McCoy came back, this bond translated to basically an unconsummated marriage bond with Spock.

Spock clocked this immediately of course and once he found out what happened he quietly went about closing his access to McCoy's mind. Never told McCoy, cos it's not gonna come up. And he just politely doesn't use the bond. It's shut

Until! This fic starts with Spock being drugged maybe I guess and he loses his memory. Maybe he remembers his life up to a point, but certainly no starfleet memories. Actually yeah that's juicy cos then he's like why the fuck am I working for humans?? Anyway

Memory loss, going drugged rather than hurt so that it can fix up easily enough when his lover works through the toxin and also so that there's some period of time before he wakes where the barriers he put in their bond fail

So Spock wakes up and has a meeting with Jim about who he is, where his loyalties are, and if he can do his job. And the whole time he's got this corner of his mind that's just rushing with complex, out of place emotions.

He steadily figures out it's a bond, but he doesn't know who to. And he can't access the bond well, it's not consummated! Jim ends up getting worried and calls McCoy up and McCoy's all pissed off cos he's mid surgery and snarky and Spock's like okay so I'm not married to the captain or the doctor because the emotions I'm getting are like concern and love and neither are showing that. One's professional, one's angry.

Spock ends up meditating and manages to prod his spouse through the bond. He does this a few times until they get a call to the bridge that McCoy's not well so he and Jim go down and McCoy's like something it WRONG with MY BRAIN I don't wanna lose my memories like Spock has, he's a useless fucker now

And Spock's like. This guy is insulting me but the only emotion I'm getting is grief and panic. Guess the brain thing isn't me poking the bond

So he pokes it again and nope definitely McCoy, and he's not happy about it. So Spock explains himself

Unfortunately saying, "the latent marriage bond between doctor McCoy and myself if the cause of his acute medical distress" isn't an explanation that goes over well

So there's another meeting, this time with McCoy pacing around the table as Jim tries to mediate. And Spock keeps announcing what McCoy's feeling even when he's acting differently. It takes four times before McCoy's performed anger actually matches his feelings, which Spock announces, which makes Jim laugh

Anyway it is what it is. Spock and McCoy finally managed to have a genuine talk after work, while McCoy has a bourbon in hand, and McCoy really insists they're not together and he doesn't know where this bond has come from. His Spock never said anything about it

And Spock's like I'm the same man and I said something three hours ago. And McCoy throws a book at him, but all the feeling Spock gets is immense fondness. So he comments on that. And McCoy is suddenly very sad

It's confusing. Spock is dizzy. He kisses McCoy because he feels like he ought to and McCoy kicks him out

Two days later, and many enormously complex feelings in his brain but very little interaction with McCoy to compare them to, Spock gets his memories back

😬

He apologises to McCoy for this kiss. McCoy is more pissed off about the bond. Spock can tell that's not true, but he's better at pretending not to know what McCoy really feels. So he explains the bond thing and that he can as good as close it off

McCoy tells him to close it. Spock admits he can tell that it's not what McCoy really wants. McCoy goes apoplectic. Spock offers to teach him to use it. McCoy leaves

Spock is meditating to close the bond when it shakes, like a spider web catching a furious fly. It's a wonderful feeling, his spouse interacting with their bond for the first time. So Spock opens himself to it and lets McCoy explore

He doesn't explore long. And he's pretty rough and fumbly about it. Whacks the spider web a couple times then leaves. Spock enjoys it anyway

Spock goes to visit once McCoy stops and McCoy's very defensive about it all, even more so when he finds out Spock really doesn't mind. Spock shows him where the connection is and how to reach out to it

McCoy takes to it like a duck to water. They argue that night but it's different, the words dance along the surface of the lake while they swirl together beneath, tides and currents pulling at each other. McCoy's emotions change on a dime, constantly fighting. And it's all there, respect, hate, attraction, disregard, humour, adoration.

Sometimes without warning McCoy will laugh, then admit the conflict between what Spock feels and says is fascinating to him. He loves to see it. He loves learning now how Spock sees the world

And at one point, for just a moment, McCoy seems to love him. Spock knows it's not real, and McCoy emotions are all over the place, but still he feels the thrum of love, then the tone changes dramatically

Because McCoy felt Spock's like for him. Deeper than friendship, more obsessive than colleagues, more physical than brothers.

So Spock promises to close the connection. McCoy admits to some of the same feelings, but Spock knew that. McCoy feels everything all the time, there's no consistency in him. If he wanted, truly and genuinely, then Spock would know about it. He knows at best McCoy is erratic

Then McCoy says something about hate being next to love, and they're kissing again. And this time McCoy doesn't ask him to leave

Spock does forget to warn McCoy that consummation will scale up the bond and oh boy McCoy is pissed off in the morning. Genuinely pissed off too, and Spock can tell

[98onlyboo]

big baby - k.mg

>> part 2 of: treat you better - k.mg

genre: fluff; wc: 1,3k

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

..."You know, I could treat you so much better than him..."

The next morning you woke up, Mingyu's arms still wrapped around you. You tried getting out of his grasp but his grip only tightened. "Gyuuu I want to get up" you whined. "Just a little longer" he said and pulled you on top of him. Now there is no way you can get out so you just accepted your fate.

Until you had an idea. You almost felt a little bad, especially since he was sleeping so peacefully but you had to get up. You started tickling him until he let go of you. "That is SO unfair" he said laughing. He grabbed a pillow and hit you, which just escalated the situation.

You were having a pillow fight, frequently landing some hits but also receiving some. You tackled him and started tickling him again. "STOP I CAN'T ANYMORE" he said laughing histerically. You stopped and looked at him, realising you were sitting on top of your shirtless best friend.

"What's wrong?" he asked grinning at you. He knew exactly what was "wrong". In a swift motion he flipped you around so he was on top of you. Your cheeks were burning at this point and he could see that. His face slowly moved towards yours. His eyes never leaving your lips. You were mentally preparing for what was about to happen next.

You closed your eyes, trying to keep a steady breath when you felt Mingyu's breath tickle your ears. "Don't start something you can't finish" he whispered seductively. Then he hit you with a suprise attack and tickled you without showing any mercy. You laughed until your sides hurt and tears formed in your eyes.

Mingyu then stopped and got up. "Come on, let's make breakfast" he suggested. You jumped up running towards the kitchen, Mingyu following close behind you. You opened the fridge and took out some yoghurt you had. "What do you want?" you asked. "I don't know..What are you eating?" "Some yoghurt. Want some too?" "Sure"

As you guys were eating, the room fell quiet. "How do you feel?" he asked all of a sudden. You knew why he was asking that. "Right now I'm okay I guess. Maybe I'm a little hurt that he would do that, but...maybe it was a sign. A sign that he wasn't the right one you know? I certainly think the right one wouldn't cheat" you chuckled saying the last part.

"I would never cheat on you..." Mingyu whispered as quietly as he could. You heard it but pretended you didn't. "What did you say??" you asked. "Oh nothing I just agreed with you" he smiled and continued eating his yoghurt.

-3 months later-

The thing with Brian didn't bother you much anymore. More or less it still hurt your ego a bit, but other than that you were finally okay again. It happened faster than you thought it would. Maybe because Mingyu was a great help in distracting you from it, but also helping you talk about it. It seemed like all of this made your friendship even stronger than before.

You were sitting at home, wondering what to do with your life. You decided to call Mingyu to see what he was up to.

"Hello?" someone answered, someone that wasn't Mingyu "Uhm hello? Is Mingyu there?" "He's not here right now, this is Minghao speaking. Do you want me to tell him something?" the voice said. You never talked to any of his friends before. "Uhm I just wanted to know what he was up to since I'm bored" you laughed nervously. "Well, you could come visit us at practice if you want. Then we can finally get to know you better, especially since you're Mingyus girlfriend" Minghao said. "Girlfriend..?" You asked "Well, you're saved under ___ with a million hearts so I thought you're his girlfriend" Minghao said, sounding a bit embarrassed "Oh no it's okay haha, we're just best friends. Would you send me the address though?? Then I'll come visit you guys" you smiled. "Of course!! See you later then" Minghao said and shortly after sent you the address over Mingyu's phone.

You got ready, trying to look at least a bit presentable to meet the guys for the first time. I hope he tells him that I'm coming. After you got to the company you were greeted by who seems to be one of his friends . "Hey!! I'm Minghao, the one you talked to on the phone" he said and kindly greeted you. "Mingyu has been talking so much about you, we're happy we finally get to actually meet you" he happily exclaimed. "Talked about me..?" you asked with a confused look.

"I may shouldn't have said that.." he whispered and laughed. You just laughed with him until you were infront of a door. You can hear music and some people inside. "Let me go in first" he said and motioned for you to hide behind him.

"Mingyu I have a surprise for you!!" Minghao said. "Really??" you heard your best friend say before running up towards you guys. Minghao stepped out of the way and revealed you as the "suprise". "___!" Mingyu screamed and picked you up. "I'm so happy you're here" he said after you told him to let you down. "Guys this is ___ my best friend!!" he said while you just stood there awkwardly.

You sat down with some of the guys and just started talking to them. You got along with them really really well. You laughed a lot with them and came to find out that all of them are so nice. When you started talking to Seungcheol, you could feel a pair of eyes on you. You looked around and saw Mingyu glaring at you and Seungcheol.

You went back to talking and laughing with Seungcheol, talking about everything possible. Suddenly Mingyu came up behind you and put an arm around your shoulder. You turned to look at him and asked him if he was okay. "Could we maybe go out just for a second?" he asked.

You agreed and left the room. "What's wrong??" you asked. "Do you like Seungcheol?" he bursted out. "What? I've known him for literally the past 20 minutes. He seems nice but that is way too early to say you like someone" you laughed. He apologised and you guys went back in. Why would he ask me that? And why would he care?

After some more very interesting and different conversations with his friends and spending the whole day with them you decided to go home. Mingyu accompanied you on your walk. "Thanks for walking me home" you said and hugged him. "No problem" he smiled, "also uhm, I hope this isn't too weird to ask but I've been thinking about this thing for some time now.." "What thing?" you asked a bit concerned. For whatever reason your first thought was that he wanted to end the friendship. "Us. I've been thinking about us.." he started", "I thought about how happy you make me, about my feelings in general and.." he looked down, almost acting a bit embarrassed to actually say what he wanted to say. "Please Gyu, tell me what's bothering you. What are you trying to tell me??" you said and took his hands in yours. "You know you can tell me everything right?" you assured him. 

"I love you yn" he blurted out. You didn't say anything at first. Seeing the lack of reaction, tears started welling up in his eyes. "I'm sorry.." he whispered, "I shouldn't hav-" you shush him, cupping his face with your hands. "Don't be sorry Gyu. There is no reason to cry, I haven't rejected you have I?" you smiled at him. Slowly you closed the gap between you two and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. It didn't last long, but it made obvious how you felt about his confession. 

"I love you too, my big baby" you chuckled.

[factual-fantasy]

Heya Factual! Hope things are going as good as they can on your end! Sorry it's been a bit since my last Ask, I got sick AGAIN and have been out of commission for a while now. But at last I have returned! Sorry to see your still having some technical troubles- really hoping you can figure it all out!

Also, I wanted to thank you! While I was sick, inspired by your art, I decided to give Sky a try on mobile (just got a new phone), and while I'm still super early in the game, it seems really cool! I'm not sure how linear the game is, but I figured I'd ask, as a veteran, do you have any advice or pointers for a beginner? Anything of interest I should check out or invest in? (Oh, and also, sorry about the color swap disappointments, sounds like a real bummer!)

And lastly, unrelated, I really liked the Pomni and Gummigoo art you did a few days back! I really like both of them together, and would love to see more of their story later down the road! Though I was wondering, you mentioned Max and Chad both stuck around in your AU too! Any cool redesign or story ideas for those two? Do they stick with Gummigoo, or have they branched out over time into the other friend groups?

(Color swap disappointment post) (Pomni and Gummigoo post)

Hello! Oof, sorry to hear that you got sick again <:(( But I'm glad you seem to be feeling better! As for my tech issues I have gotten a new chord for my tablet and have downloaded a fresh FireAlpaca. So far none of the screen glitches have come back and FireAlpaca is working perfectly! :))

Also thank you! :DD I'm glad you liked it!! :}} And while Chad's ref sheet is done, Max's is still in the sketch stage. I just haven't gotten around to finishing him <:/

Now their friend groups.. I was thinking that not many circus goers really vibe with NPCs all that much. So the number of people who they can make genuine friendships with is limited.. that being said I think Chad and Max would find a solid friendships with Gangle and maybe Zibble and uhhh... Ms. Wiggles..? Maybe? :0

Gangle has a soft spot for NPCs thanks to Bella and respects them more than others. So out of the 3 I think their friendships would be strongest with her.

Now sky.. ohhh boy prepare for a wall of text <XDD (Note there is a little spoiler for something in Golden Wasteland!)

Alrighty, so when I got this ask I sat down and made a list of every little nugget of sky advice I could possibly think of. Until eventually I took a step back and realized that a lot of it wasn't really solid advice or pointers <XDD so I cut the list down into somethings that I either wish a veteran would have taught me when I was a moth. Or things I found out too late and missed out on something or anything like that. Plus some advice I've tired really hard to beat into other moths heads for their own good but they never understand me in game <XDD

First off. Seasons, reoccurring events and non reoccurring events. Its important to know the difference between the three for this advice.

Seasons are limited-time themed events that come with the option of purchasing an Season Pass, which allows players to access extra Cosmetics and Expressions during the Season in exchange for an in-game purchase.👇👇👇

~~~~~

Special Events (also called Holiday Events). These are limited-time events introducing new cosmetics themed around real-life celebrations. Most Special Events recur annually. Some of these events take place in the Secret Area, accessible from the Vault of Knowledge. They are separate from, but may overlap with, Seasonal Events and Double Currency Events.👇👇👇

~~~~~

Non-recurring Events (or Short Events). These events are special or unannounced events that do not repeat or return due to their special characteristics. This list also includes events that have not been confirmed to return nor have a history of recurrence.👇👇👇

~~~~~

Alrighty, got that all processed? I hope so <XD Now onto my advice.

1: Collaborative in app purchase items (items you need to buy with real money) will never return. Let me explain.

In sky there is a reoccurring event made by sky called days of fortune. (Its basically a Chinese new year event) Its going on right now actually! :0 This event has come back once a year every year. And the cosmetics that you need to purchase with real money have come back every time too.

However, the Cinnamoroll collaborative event? That event and all of the items it brought with it will not reoccur.

You have to be careful and check every event and make sure its one that will return. If its a collab season like Cinnamoroll and you don't buy the items? They will vanish and you wont have the chance to buy them ever again :( I learned my lesson the hard way when I didn't buy the fox plush and the yellow scarf from season of the little prince years and years ago. 😔 Up to this point the little prince's in app purchase items have not returned since.

This goes for collaborative seasons as well. Season of the little prince, season of aurora and season of moomin, etc, will not have their in app purchase items return. Be careful to know which is which during the event/season so you don't regret anything!

Another note about non returning items: While individual spirits that you can relive the memories of, can return as traveling spirits once every 2 weeks.. any items that the guide of that season offers will be unavailable after the season ends. 👇👇👇

Also speaking of traveling spirits, here's some advice I had to figure out myself. As someone who has every single traveling spirit in the game? As long as you have 200 candles, 40 hearts and 20 ascended candles? You will be able to afford all the cosmetics from ANY traveling spirit that shows up. If you keep a nice candle run schedule this wont be too hard to keep up with!

Also note about traveling spirits. They can take a looong time to return. When I first started playing I bought out half the items a traveling spirit offered before he left. I knew he would come back so I wasn't upset. But it took 2 REAL LIFE YEARS. 2 WHOLE YEARS for him to FINALLY come back. So this is why I advise you be really careful with the 200🕯️,40💝 and 20🧨. It would suck a lot if a spirit showed up that you really liked!.. Only for you to not afford it and have to wait a year or two to see it again <XDD

Now currency. Sky tries to make out that ascended candles are the most valuable currency. This is a load of bologna. By far the most valuable and sought after currency is hearts. You can go and get ascended candles by yourself all you want. But hearts have to be given to you by other players in one way or another. Which makes them EXTREMELY hard to get for some people. My advice is to hoard those things like your life depends on it. Try to have a stock pile of at least 30 to prepare for any temporary and expensive items that may come your way. Don't go and blow them all on the home spirits like I did <XDD

Now candle runs.. a lot of players will tell you you have to do a candle run through the ENTIRE GAME to keep up with sky's bonkers prices. Which is sometimes true... However, I have recently discovered this candle run route on YouTube that has helped me loads! I modified it a little and don't do the turtle thing, but if you're worried about runs that take hours this could be very useful to you! About a week or soo of keeping up with it and I'm almost at 400 candles! :)))

Another thing I want to advise is the whole ultimate reward thing in the home constellations. (Random google images)

The game will tell you that if you ascend all the spirits in a realm constatation, that it'll unlock the "ultimate reward". Which is that question mark in the middle. Typically this means you just gotta buy every single item from every single spirit in that constellation and the reward will be unlocked.

THAT IS NOT THE CASE HERE!! You do NOT have to buy the VERY EXPENSIVE tier 2 capes that some spirits offer. Just everything else. So repeat you buy everything the spirits offer, but you DO NOT have to buy the super expensive tier 2 capes in order to unlock the ultimate reward. Save your hearts, you're welcome! XDD

Now the Golden Wasteland advice. As a veteran I NEED to teach you HOW to burn down this plant in wasteland.

This plant is in the last area before the temple in wasteland. Not to be confused with the GIANT PLANT that's in the area infested with Krill. This is the smaller one after it. And there has been DOZENS UPON DOZENS of times a moth has come by to help me burn it down and not known how to do it. I've sat there for 20 minutes each time trying DESPERATLY to communicate what order to burn the plant down but they never get it. So I shall teach you!

Hopefully that little comic got my point across! XD

Another word of advice is to check out nastymold on YouTube! She is a very sweet and soft spoken YouTuber that plays the beta version of sky. She gets all the updates early and makes short videos explaining everything you need to know about any events or seasons. If you're ever confused about anything or are afraid you may miss out on something in an event, just check out her channel! No doubt she's already covered it and explained it for you so you don't miss nothing!

Now my last word of advice for you is this. Take the game slow. Really soak up your moth days and take your time playing it.

Many veteran players are heartbroken that they let another veteran drag them through their moth days and didn't really get to explore or experience anything naturally for themselves. And other veterans just miss their moth days in general. When the game felt huge and there was so much to explore and so many things to save and grind for.

I don't think I'm like that personally, I'm way more relaxed as a veteran knowing I understand how the game works and I'm not missing out on anything. But I can understand missing those moth days feeling like a kid running around and seeing all the beautiful things for the first time.

So just take things nice and slow. Soak up the game at a nice pace. if there's an event that you'd like to partake in but don't understand it just watch nastymold. She always has a sweet little video that tells you all you need to know without really dampening your moth experience. You can only be a moth once.

Well that's all the actually practical advice I had on my list. I hope you find some use in this wall of text XDD thanks for reading and see you in the skies! 💞🕊️

[kreoleky]

Finance Reading ✨💸💶

Pile 1

Okay Pile 1 so the messages I am receiving regarding your finances for right now are that spirit wants you to leave certain financial habits in the past. Specifically with overspending because with this 5 of Pentacles and 3 of Wands, you may have a bad habit of overindulging in things and it causes you to be at a loss. You could be in some sort of financial debt that you are trying to get out of, but what I am hearing is that you won’t be able to get out of debt if you keep unnecessarily digging a deeper hole for yourself. However with this Death card and the 3 of Wands Spirit wants you to make new moves and decisions in order to have a fresh start with your finances. For example, whenever you do get any new money, that’s an opportunity to put it towards any overdue bills instead of recklessly spending it on frivolous things. Another thing is to stop giving out money to people and things when you know you don’t have it or knowing that money could go towards something you’re dealing with at the moment or even just your savings. Learn to spend your money more wisely, because what I am hearing is that Spirit is not going to keep saving you or giving you more chances with your finances if you’re just going to keep wasting the opportunities. Especially when you choose to spend money on things that do not benefit you long term as there is just a sense of temporary happiness. In order to be more stable financially you need to start thinking about the long term effects of your actions. Some things can wait, learn to decipher your wants and your needs. There will always be another or better opportunity for that “want”. You may even end up not caring for the things that you could have impulsively bought, meaning you could have pocketed the money you spent on something impulsively. Spend money on things that are a genuine investment, put more focus on the “later” rather than the “now”. Also when making purchases get things that will last, I’m specifically getting the example of get a hairstyle that will last. You could spend $200-$300 on a hairstyle that can last you a few weeks rather than a hairstyle that will only last you a few days. Spirit also knows that you are able to make your money stretch. Even when it comes to self maintenance with hair, nails, makeup etc. There are cheaper alternatives that you can look to that will maintain the same look. Invest your time into learning how to make things work for you. Even when you do want to treat yourself pick one day out the week instead of splurging on multiple days throughout the week. I am also picking up on the fact that you need to check your transactions, you don’t realize how much things really add up. Try to Budget things out, and something that can also be helpful is every-time you spend money, put some money into your savings as well. The same money that you spend, you could spend half of that amount and put the other half in your savings. You could look into ways that your money could work for you by doing your research on different types of accounts, to where your money grows overtime just by letting it sit there. You spend a lot of time online, so you could be online looking into different resources that could help you grow financially. An emphasis on investments.

Sending your energies back with love and light 💌 .

Pile 2

okay pile 2, So, what I'm getting is that you probably have some past conflict with your finances. Whether that would be with somebody or with yourself, maybe you have some type of issues with your bank is what I'm getting or I'm also hearing something with like schooling or some type of company, because I'm not necessarily getting it has to be with the one specific person, but maybe like an establishment, but you know, like in the business world they classify you as the person or the party etc. Moving on, I think you're kind of accepting that you're gonna take your loss, because you have put up a fight, but I also feel like you're gonna be moving on from it, because I don't think the loss is a major loss. It's more so just like, I keep hearing like a lesson learnt on what to do next time.

But with this eight of wands and this nine of wands, I do feel like you're gonna be making progress towards making better money moves and just doing moves to where money can start flowing in more frequently for you. But I think you are going to be more cautious of how you do things, basically not being too lackadaisical with your money, especially when it's money that kind of has to do with something about your record with how you keep up with things Because with this ace of wands, I think you do want to take movements towards something but you also know that you have to make newer moves to get newer things and leave other things in the past. don't be so careless about things because you might have just felt comfortable with knowing how you were with your money or just comfortable in the fact that you don't feel like you would ever have to deal with issues of like, maybe that specific party or entity that you did have to deal with. But I think moving forward, you all are just gonna be cautious, not scared, but very much more alert and aware of what you’re doing and looking at your money. I do see like some of y'all may be starting some type of business. So I would definitely say look more into that because money could be flowing in from that quickly as long as you're consistent because with the five of wands, it doesn't have to mean conflict, but it could just mean putting up a fight and putting in the efforts to maintain something because I also feel like the five of wands is about putting your guard down, standing on business. I do feel like you could just be at conflict with yourself as far as making sure that you're on things instead of being so comfortable, relaxed and lackadaisical with people and with past decisions regarding your finances. I see around like spring time or summer your money's definitely gonna be coming in quickly or you're gonna be seeing the growth and the progress of whatever you decide to do financially, especially if some of you are starting a new business specifically. What I'm also hearing is be patient with yourself and don’t feel like you’re in a rush. When you slow down and think things through, that's when you get the best out of everything. don't be so impulsive about everything. things will come as they need to. You just have to trust in the divine, trust in the universe , trust in God, or whoever you believe in. I think you all would be straight wish your money just don't be lackadaisical, be on things and don't let people walk all over you either. heavy on if you need to put up a fight with certain things, do that, because I'm also hearing, maybe even Bill collectors and stuff for like a tenant, something like that, if you know that you're only supposed to pay a certain amount, don't let people try to cheat you out and make you pay more just because you have it, it doesn't mean that you have to spend it. If you're smart enough, if you're really business savvy, you can do a lot of negotiating is what I'm hearing as well. You don't always have to jump for the first option. Just sit and negotiate. I'm also hearing if any of you all with a business, when you come to contracts concerning legal documents and agreements, start reviewing those instead of just being like, I accept or I agree, because you might look over something that you could possibly negotiate to go into your favor, in the future.

Sending your energies back with love and light 💌 .

Pile 3

Okay Pile 3, I see that you all have taken a major loss financially. Maybe a few of you have lost your jobs which could have caused you all to start dipping into your savings. This has caused some of you to be constantly digging a deeper hole. For others you all are just not where you want to be financially. Some of your moods could have been affected because you all feel a little broke right now. Since you all lost so much money it’s a feeling of being uncomfortable that you all are facing, that feeling of instability. However, some of you do like to gamble, especially if you place bets on sports often. I’m hearing more so over the holiday time. This is a habit that needs to stop if you want to grow financially.

Moving forward I do see you all being able to make a major comeback with the King of Wands and King of Cups. You all will be making wiser decisions when it comes to your finances, I think you all have had a lot of time to reflect on your actions and the consequences so it serves as motivation to make better decisions in the future. Some of you had to go through this major loss in order to change your habits since you were so used to having luck whenever you did indulge in things like gambling. Now for those of you who have lost your jobs or didn’t get the position that you wanted, I do see with this Magician here that you all can make ends meet for the time being. I also see that you all will be making big business moves in the future. There are bigger and better opportunities for you.

Once you all get emotionally in tuned with yourselves and stop making irrational decisions with your money things will begin to look better. You all will be moving very carefully and calculated with your finances, where you put your money towards and more particular about who you do business with. Stop doing business with friends, it’s not in your favor if you haven’t fully grasped that idea yet. Some of you have a lot of skills. I’m picking up more of a masculine energy from this collective. Some of you all can still be women though it doesn’t matter.

You all could probably have a skill set that you all either neglected or just haven't put as much effort into, but if you all use your skills, you can literally get right back on track. I'm not going to say it's going to be easy, but if you put the work in, you’ll get there, you all will definitely be having a lot coming in because with the magician you manifest things, a magician is a jack of all traits. you can have multiple side hustles, everything but, you need to stop having multiple people in your business and start having multiple businesses is what I'm hearing. multiple skills, multiple businesses, multiple streams of income, so stop being so dependent on one thing or outsiders, literally. When you start being a bit more independent with your approach to money, things will start looking better for you. Some of you could work with your hands a lot whether that be at a warehouse or just manual labor in general like construction work. If not that I see that some of you could be nail techs, do hair, lashes, makeup, bake, cook, or even being a masseuse. Some of you are definitely entrepreneurs. Honing in on these skills that you have can help you recover from this financial loss that you have faced.

Sending your energies back with love and light 💌 .

Pile 4

Okay Pile 4, So some of you all may have been caught up with bills and managing your money however you all did get it together! The crown may tilt, but it never falls. With the Six of Swords and Two of Pentacles reversed you all were juggling a lot of responsibilities. You did get on your zoom and now you’re establishing how to handle your different financial obligations. I do see some new opportunities coming in for you like a raise or bonus at work, some networking opportunities etc. Just be careful for whenever you do receive this new opportunity, do not get tempted to irrationally spend money just because you got it. It’s always better to save for a rainy day.

Sending your energies back with love and light 💌 .

[ravennaortiz]

2/1 A: I told my friend I would go on this stupid date/this is my problem why? with Chibs requested by @privatetruths As always 18+

You had barely stepped out of your car before Tig Trager was pouncing. His blue eyes full of mischief and lust as he looked you up and down. A playful smirk on his face as his wild black curls swayed in the breeze that had your skirt starting to billow. “I need to talk to the Scot” you stated firmly as you barely managed to keep your skirt down.

“Aww, come on Doll. I can give the cops daughter a better time” purred Tig as he batted his eyes at you making your roll your eyes before shouldering past him.

Stepping into the Teller-Morrow garage you pushed your sunglasses on top of your head as your eyes adjusted to the light.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of the local Sheriffs daughter? Daddy doesn’t have someone on the payroll for his babygirls car?” sassed Chibs, disdain dripping with each word. To say a love hate relationship had formed between you and the Sons was an understatement. The last time you had been here had ended with a raid of not only the clubhouse but all their homes. A night of fun and rebellion for you had landed them in serious hot water with your father.

“You don’t have to be a dick. It’s not my fault my dad overreacted” you snapped as you crossed your arms as you glared at him. Mentally kicking yourself for not containing your fiery temper when you were here to ask a favor.

Chibs chuckled as he wiped his hands of grease. “I think you and I have very different versions of fault and how to be accountable Lassie”.

You sighed before slumping down into a metal chair. “Look. I know ya’ll hate me. I get it. It was stupid of me to have used ya’ll in my little rebellion plan. I knew it would get a reaction but I didnt expect him to go nuclear with ya’ll. You stated looking down at your feet before looking back up at him as he leaned against the car he had been working on.

“Whats this got to do with me?” asked Chibs curiously.

“My friend is going on a date with this guy she just met. And I’m the only one in the group single now….and I told them I wasn’t cause they were teasing and shit, trying to hook me up with this loser of a guy. Ughh this is so stupid. I told them I would go on a double date as proof” you rambled out as you looked anywhere but at eh man in front of you.

“And why is this my problem?” laughed Chibs roughly as he turned back to the car again.

“Cause I told them I was dating a SON……and older man……with an accent” you replied quietly daring a glance up at him at the end. His eyes meeting yours with something in them you couldn’t quite place.

Chibs looked back to the car. Silently considering your words as he feigned interest in something on the engine. You were about to give up and leave, maybe try it out with Tig when Chibs finally spoke.

“Don’t know Lassie. I’m not a man who likes to be played with.” Stated Chibs his eyes still on the engine. “Besides I don’t need your father busting in and cutting my dick off and sending me to Stockton” he added with a shake of his head. “Yer pretty but not worth the risk Lass” he added before moving to the office.

You couldn’t help but flinch at his words. They cut terribly and hurt more than you expected. While you understood, you couldn’t help but fill challenged and you were not above begging.

“Wait!” you called as you hopped up and ran in front of him. Grabbing the front of his uniform you dropped to your knees. “I’ll do anything if you say yes” you whispered eyes on his as you started to fumble with his belt.

You almost had his boxers down before hands grabbed yours. “No need for this” stated Chibs looking over your shoulder at Tig and Gemma who stood watching. Your cheeks burned with shame as you followed his gaze. What the hell were you thinking? “I’ll do it. Just get up and have some dignity Lass” rumbled Chibs as he stepped back from you and walked out of the garage.

Three Days Later

Chibs would never admit it but he was actually having a decent time with you. Though he would love if the other couple would leave, they had done nothing but bicker the whole time. You and Chibs had exchanged secret smiles and texts about how bad a match they were. Things got worse and your friend excused herself to the bathroom as tears started to slip, you had gone after her.

When you both returned your friends date and his food were gone and Chibs looked apologetic as he looked at your friend.  Chibs had been very gentle in his explanation that her date had got his food to go and left. Wanting Chibs to pass on a message that they were done and not to contact him. Your friend had been inconsolable and Chibs had gotten all of your food packaged up and taken care of the bill as you held her. He even had one of his club brothers swing by to drive her home since the two of you had ridden on his bike.

“Wanna come in and finish dinner? I have beer in the fridge” you offered as he pulled into your driveway.

“I don’t” started Chibs before you shot him a pout.

“Please” you dragged out “I wanna make this night not as miserable for you” you begged.

“Fine. One beer and we finish dinner then I’m leaving” stated Chibs firmly as he got off his bike.

“Deal” you stated eagerly as you clapped your hands and moved to the front door making him chuckle.

"So much for just dinner and a beer" you laughed as Chibs flopped over next to you on your kitchen floor. Both of you out of breath and sweaty from the feral fucking you had just endured.

"Well had to see what else that mouth could do besides cause trouble" replied Chibs as he pulled you on top of him. His cock already hardening again as you ground against him. "Also figured I might as well go all the way with the Sheriffs daughter" he added before groaning as you slid down his length, nails tracing his tattoos.