#I think they’re called soft emojis (?)

[jynjackets]

VELCINTA / VEL SARTHA / CINTA KAZ ICONS

for VelCinta Sept. Day 21: “stuck” ~

250x250 px icons of ship and individuals. Feel free to use. Credit not required but greatly appreciated. Also can take requests since I couldn’t fit all of them here <3

[mikkomacko]

Jersey Meets Prague

Dad!Nico Hischier x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Jersey travels to Prague to see her daddy shine in the first game of the season

____________________________________________________________

“Are you sure you’ve got everything?”

Phone squished between your ear and shoulder, you adjust Jersey in the crook of your elbow, careful to not accidentally detach her or disturb her breastfeeding.

“Yes Nico, I’ve got everything,” you promise, “believe it or not I’ve packed her for international flights before.”

You don’t add that she was barely a month old during one of said flights, not wanting to brag too much. Jersey’s first ever off-season flight to Switzerland was easy for the most part. She slept a lot, was more than happy to lay on Nico’s chest or cradled in his arms while they snoozed.

Unsurprisingly, she’s just like her father in that way. As soon as the plane reaches cruising altitude and the turbulence has more or less passed, they’re clocking out. And they’re really only getting up to eat, because Nico’s zombie walk to the bathroom half asleep doesn’t really count as being awake, and well, Jersey doesn’t have to necessarily to be awake for her bathroom time.

“But I’m usually there too,” Nico says through the phone, and you can hear the pout in his voice, practically see the droop of his lips that makes him look the like personified version of a sad face emoji.

You appease him by saying, “That’s true, but I promise we’ll be fine.”

While it is always easier to parent with two, you’re no stranger to long stretches of time without Nico. Jersey had gotten her first ever cold while Nico was on a week-long west coast roadtrip, and you were miserable. She barely slept and ate, so you barely slept and ate. Her crying made you cry. And you’d called the pediatrician so much on her personal phone you’re surprised she didn’t block the number and remove Jersey as a patient.

You’d survived that just fine. All by yourself.

“Yeah I know,” Nico sighs just as the baby girl against your chest lets out a single displeased cry, pushing away from you with her chubby hands.

You quickly place the phone on the bench beside you, hitting the speaker as you adjust her into sitting on your lap. “Sorry Neeks, one more time?”

Fixing your top, you grab the baby rag off your knee and gently clean Jersey’s tiny little hands. She looks at you those big brown eyes she got from her dad, dark lashes clumped together from crying earlier. Her lips tilt down into that signature Hischier pout.

“Go over the list with me?” He requests again and you can’t help but smile. Nico Hischier is nothing if not prepared, one of the many things that makes him a great father. You can picture family vacations in the years to come, suitcases for the babies filled with anything and everything they could ever need or want. All because he always has that mental list.

“Of course,” you agree, continuing to clean up Jersey despite her cries of disagreement and annoyance. Even when her eyebrows pinch together and her frown wobbles and deepens, your resolve wanting to crack because she looks so much like her father. God knows Nico’s hurt face always gets to you.

Luckily you’ve gotten good at having to just ignore it.

Nico starts reading out his mental order of items you needed to bring with, including certain outfits for Jersey and her favorite baby wash (they all are unscented but Nico swears she likes the soft yellow bottle better than the pink). He double checks that you have her Devil’s noise cancelling headphones, her blankie his mother knitted, her favorite snacks in the baby bag. Despite the fact that you’ve been on the phone with him since you set up camp in the private mother’s lounge to pump and feed Jersey, he still asks if you have extra bottles and if he should go buy formula.

“I can always pump when we get there,” you laugh, “but if you want to pick up formula too you can.”

He hums like he’s thinking, the sound making you have to bite your lip not to giggle at how adorable he is. You finish up cleaning Jersey, combing your fingers through her ever-growing blonde hair.

Nico clicks his tongue. “Maybe I’ll get a small one,” he decides. “And I already got her diapers, hotel got us a pack’n’play for her to sleep and my mom is bringing her some bedding-“

“Only the finest Swiss threads for her highness,” you joke, smiling fondly as Jersey blinks sluggishly at you. You bring her into your chest, snuggling her as she burrows into the fabric of your clothes.

Over the phone, Nico makes a noise of complaint. “Well obviously,” he scoffs, as Jersey reaches up to prod her chubby little fingers into your cheek.

“What’s she doing anyway? I miss her.”

You snuggle into her little hand, reaching over for your phone and hitting the FaceTime button. It barely rings for a second before Nico is popping up on the screen, a little grainy and blurry, but still handsome.

“Oh hello,” he greets with a cheeky smile, “what a beautiful sight.”

He’s got an AirPod in, the white headphone peaking out from his wisps of hair that he’s got tucked under a white beanie. Beautiful buildings and cobblestone streets move behind him as he walks down the sidewalks of Prague. It’s gorgeous, he’s gorgeous.

“I could say the same thing, Hisch.”

His smile goes shy, lashes fluttering as he quickly looks down from the camera like he’s too nervous or something to look at you after saying something so sweet.

You tilt the camera, show him the head of blonde hair snuggled into you. Nico groans painfully, eyebrows furrowing as he says, “Aw it’s just got better.”

“Well enjoy it while you can because we board in a little under and hour and someone is starting to get sleepy.”

Nico frowns. “Noooo she can’t sleep now, she won’t sleep on the plane!”

Shrugging, you lean back so Jersey will lift her head. She blinks up at you in annoyance, moving her hand from your face to knuckle at her sleepy eyes. “Say hi to daddy baby,” you encourage, moving the phone down so she can see Nico on the screen.

A dimpled smile takes over her face, so quickly you wouldn’t even be able to tell she was nodding off seconds ago. Her fingers reach out for the phone, nonsensical words spilling from her lips.

“Hello my liebling,” he greets, mirroring her smile as he wiggles his fingers at her. The grocery bag hanging from his wrist crinkles as he moves.

“Papa,” Jersey mumbles, the sounds messy but it makes Nico preen anyway. You lay your cheek on top of her head, listening to them chatter with each other until it’s time to fly.

~~~~

Nico, half-dressed in his game day suit runs circles around the coffee table in the hotel suite. Dramatic screams of fear and panicked “oh no, oh no’s” leaving his smiling lips. Jersey squeals excitedly, toddling after him on chubby legs.

Setting the hot iron off to the side, you pick up his suit jacket from where it was laid out on the dark wood table. You look over it for anymore wrinkles, swiping fuzzy of the sleeve.

"Nico," you call, determining it to be perfect. "suit is ready my love. And you gotta get going before you miss the bus."

He halts, looking up at with doe-eyes and Jersey crashes into his legs, wraps her arms around his calf and shouts, "got you!" Then she's latching onto his pants, baby teeth biting into the fabric. Brining the jacket over to him, you help him slip it on, standing in front of him and straightening out the lapels.

"Thanks darling."

Nico's looking at you with dark eyes, a sly look on his face and you're shocked by how quickly he can go from the silly man chasing your daughter around to that.

"Keep it in your pants, Hisch." You tease, laughing when he simply raises an eyebrow at you. Rising to your toes, you press a sweet kiss to his lips as he grabs at your hips.

"Get Jersey off your leg, I want a picture before you go." You instruct, nodding down towards the baby girl that's still mouthing at his leg. Nico groans, leaning down and snaking his hands around her middle. Then he's growling like a monster as he picks her up, flipping her upside down in his arms and then rolling her over again until she fits into the crook of his elbow. Jersey laughs, bouncing in his hold and grabbing at his scruffy cheeks.

You dig out the youth Devils jersey Nico gifted her last season, the name and logo bedazzled and sparkling. Nico's pretending to bite at her little fingers when you come back, wrestling the jersey over her head and then guiding her arms in. Jersey frowns, grunting in annoyance and you frown back at her.

"No naked photos for you, miss girl." You tease, pulling the fabric down to hide her diaper clad bottom. Nico frowns too and she looks up at him, her serious face a complete mirror of his.

"Yeah no naked photos ever," he instructs. Then h's sticking out his tongue at her, eyes crinkling with mirth when she does it back.

You have him hold her with her back to his chest, chubby legs hanging over his bicep and the city of Prague dazzles through the balcony doors behind them.

"Smile cuties," you sing, and Nico beams at you, ticking his hand into Jersey's stomach so she does the same. Snapping a few photos, you quickly move over and stand with them. Posing for a selfie, you and Nico both make funny faces at the camera while Jersey looks at you like you're crazy.

"Ok, ok daddy's got to go." Nico says. tossing Jersey into the air and catching her. You pocket your phone, let him decorate her face in kisses before he's handing her over. Sitting her on your hip, you give Nico a kiss bye as well.

"Look for us in the crowd," you tell him, "we'll be the giant group with the Swiss flag."

Nico laughs, presses a kiss to the top of your head before gathering his things and heading for the door. Jersey waves bye to him, and he returns it just as the large door is slipping shut.

Now it's time to get Jersey and yourself dressed, needing to meet up with Nico's family in the lobby in little less than a hour.

~~~~

Nico found the two of you at warmups immediately. His first lap around the ice he's winking at you, smirking as he picks up a puck. You watch him go about his routine, stick handling by the bench for a bit and then taking a couple shots. He does his little frog-like stretches, laughing and joking with Tuna as he does.

And then he's lazily skating over to where you're sat with his family, a few rows up and just off to the right of the net. Jersey kicks excitedly as he comes over, gnawing on her fingers and Nina helps you stand her up against the glass. Nico taps at it with his gloves, right over where her smiling face is and she smacks her hand there too.

He scoops up a loose puck on his blade, flipping it a couple times before looking at you expectantly. You let Nina hold Jersey up, moving off to the side so he can flip the puck over the glass into your outstretched hands.

"Mine," Jersey tells you, grumpy, and Nina laughs as you hand the cold puck over to her. She takes it in her little hands, fingers running over the Devils and Sabres logos.

Nico stays and hangs for a bit longer, tossing a couple pucks over when the kids near you realize he's in the area. You have to shush Jersey when she keeps yelling mine to them, frowning in apology at the families. Nina and Rino find it hilarious, and by the way Nico is shaking his head through the glass you know he's trying not to laugh too.

He stays by the boards until the clock winds down, and even then he's the last to trail off the ice.

~~~~

You're tucking away Jersey's headphones and her Prague puck when Nico comes down the tunnel. His hair is wet on his forehead, cheeks and neck flushed like he took a shower that was just a little too hot. His parents and some friends from home are the first to greet him, everyone jeering and complimenting his goal as they share hugs and take photos.

Zipping up the diaper bag, you stand with it between your feet as you blow your hair out of your face and turn to Nina. "You should go say hi and take a photo." You tell her, and while she makes a hesitant face, she does hand Jersey over. The bottle she had been drinking slips from her lips during the adjustment, and she cries out unhappily.

You can feel Nico looking over as you settle her on your hip, but she take the bottle back easily and happily, laying her head on your shoulder. Swaying her a bit, you get a little over halfway through the bottle when Nico finally makes it through the crowd and to you two.

"There's my pretty girl," he greets quietly, taking your face in his hands and the two of you share a sweet kiss. Kissing your cheek just once and then the top of Jersey's head, she pulls away from you and leans back into his shoulder instead.

"Oh I'm only fun until daddy comes back huh?" You pout, but you're happy to let him take her. Now that's she got her favorite person she doesn't want her bottle, so you cap it and lean down to pack it away with the rest of her things.

Nico's wiping at her mouth with the sleeve of his suit jacket when you rise to your normal height, and you gasp. "Nico stop, I don't want to have to wash that in the hotel sink."

Chuckling, he wraps that arm around you instead, brining you under his arm so he can hold both of you. You return the hug, soothing your hand up and down his lower back.

"You played really well today Captain," you murmur, reaching over to brush Jersey's hair out of her face.

"Yeah?" He asks and you nod. "Well the boys made it easy, Marky and Kovy especially."

You roll your eyes. "And Hischier," you insist, pressing your chin into his shoulder as you look up at him. "He was buzzing. Stayed with the puck, got his legs moving, executed."

That makes him laugh, a fully belly laugh that crinkles his eyes and nose. Jersey laughs alongside him, fingers nudging at his dimples and you giggle too.

"Good to hear coach," he says quietly, getting distracted by something behind you. You look back, realize Katja has her phone out and is taking photos. "Come on, let's take a real one."

Following Nico's instructions, you move to curl into his side, stretching your arm across his middle to hug him tightly. Rino makes funny faces at Jersey from behind the camera, and she squeals and laughs perfectly for the photo. You quickly move to his other side, holding Jersey between the two of you.

"Kisses," Nico tells you in a silly voice, Jersey giggling and mimicking it. You and him smooch kisses to her chubby cheeks, Nina cooing as Katja takes the photo.

"Beautiful," she compliments. "We'll share photos later after dinner."

Nico's camera roll later that night is pregame photos with Jersey, a slightly blurry candid of him and Jersey sticking their tongues out at each other during warm-ups, a video from his mom of you and Jersey jumping to your feet and cheering when he scores his goal. Photo upon photo of him with loved ones from Switzerland, but his favorites are the ones of him laughing and holding you and Jersey in the tunnels afterwards.

He post a collage of them to his story and tags you, a small caption at the bottom reading "Another season with my favorite girls"

[yoonguurt]

Summary: Spring brings with it the need for a change. You're in a writing rut and that just can't happen right now. You decided to spend a few months with your aunt at her massive garden estate. for the first time in 10 years. Dreams of a boy you don't remember become a nightly thing. Who is this boy?

Pairing: Hongjoong x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, fantasy

AU/Trope: long lost friends to lovers, a twist on The Secret Garden

Word count: 12,295

Warnings: parental death, themes of curses, talks of insanity, mentions of kidnapping, a horrible old woman, threats. I think that's all but it's also 2 am so brain a little fuzzy. NSFW warnings under the cut

A/N: This is for the Language of Flowers event for @cultofdionysusnet I really did put everything I have into this fic. It has taken me a while and I will probably revisit this later since I didn't get everything I wanted in here. Thank you to @kwanisms for making the title banner and reading bits and pieces of this. @anyamaris @pyeonghongrie @justhere4kpop @stardragongalaxy also helped me with reading some of this. Thank you guys for putting up with the screenshots and eye emojis.

Smut warnings: unprotected sex (do not do, I will hunt you down), fingering, dry humping, so much kissing, Hongjoong is king of aftercare, virgin Hongjoong, there's no power dynamic here, they’re just soft

Walking into the courtyard of your aunt’s estate was like walking back into a long lost memory. You spent many summers here as a child and while it had been some of the best times of your life, as you had gotten older, the trips stopped. Once you began to transcend into your older teen years, the allure of the massive mansion and grounds lost its appeal. You stopped coming when you were 15. You remember that there was a specific reason why, you just couldn’t remember what that reason was. 

You closed the large iron gate behind you, listening as it made a loud creak. The gate was covered in rust, which was unusual since your aunt was a very meticulous woman. She had to have everything in perfect condition at all times. At least, that was how she was the last time you had seen her 10 years ago. From the phone call you shared, she seemed to still be the same woman she had always been. She may be older, but she still has the same fiery spirit she’s always had. You guess that was where you got it from. 

In all honesty, you have never been overly close with your aunt. You loved her, sure, but she was kind of a mean woman. She was quite a few years younger than your father, 11 to be exact, so she wasn’t elderly when you were a child. She seemed to be a little miserable your entire life, though you were too young to realize that at the time. Thinking back on it now, you realized that your aunt had any possession she could ever want, but you had never seen her have a companion of any sort. No women from the nearby town ever came to visit, and you had never seen a man, other than Steven the gardener, ever pass through the gates. You knew that no one needed anyone of the opposite sex to make their lives better, but you also knew that she must live a lonely life.

The real reason you fell in love with coming to stay the summers was the grounds. The estate was massive. Many times you had spent all day wandering around the grounds, just exploring everything your heart yearned for. You knew you had a favorite spot when you were younger, but its location was another thing slipping your mind. You’d have to make a mental note to try and find your special spot.

The old door is silent as you open in and step inside. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed. A quick glance around the foyer lets you know that not much inside the house has changed either. There are still the same two blue and white flowered vases standing on either side of the door, holding the same kind of lilies they had always held. The small table that held the rotary phone was still in the same place at the base of the stairs, rotary phone still sat atop. Even the curtains were the same. A light sage in color, small embroidered flowers running down the fabric. 

Flowers were always a large part of the decor of your aunt’s home. Each guest room in the house was themed with a different flower. There were numerous gardens spread throughout the grounds, some with mixed plants and some that only grew a particular plant. You knew flowers were really important to your aunt, though every time your curious child tendencies come forward, she would only give a stiff smile and tell you that flowers were beautiful and a woman of her standing deserved to have beauty all around her. Looking back, you can see how forced her smile had been.

“Aunt Helen!” Your voice rang throughout the empty home, surprising even yourself at just how loud your voice carried. You had been told to come right in and make yourself at home, but it didn’t feel right. Not only had you not been here in ten years after abruptly deciding that you didn’t want to return for the summer of your 16th year, but you had also called her out of nowhere to ask if you could spend some time there. Her side of the line had been silent for a few moments before she told you that there shouldn’t be an issue with you coming, but it still felt like she wasn’t sure about her decision. 

You hear footsteps coming from the top of the stairs and you turn to face the stairway with a smile. Helen comes around the corner, her face showing no emotion as she looks down at you. “Y/N. How nice to see you, dear.” Her voice is pleasant enough, though her face is still blank. You guess you must have hurt her by your sudden refusal to come back during your teen years, and then surprised her with an equally sudden request to return. You try to shake the thought from your head, making sure to keep your smile. “Thank you so much for letting me spend the next few months here. I know it was a sudden request, but I think it will really do me some good.”

The last year of your life had been hectic to say the least. You moved from your home on the outskirts of the city to the city proper to be closer to publishers. You had always wanted to be a writer. You could remember always having notebooks full of stories as a child. You had hid them away in any room you could find. By the time you turned 16, you had probably filled 50 notebooks. Like many children, the stories were fantastical and some were nonsense, but it was the process of writing that you enjoyed. Bringing whatever idea that had popped into your head to life was an addiction to you. 

Helen’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, making you focus your attention back on the aging lady who was now making her way down the stairs. “It’s no problem at all, dear. There’s no one here but me and Steven, so there’s plenty of room.” Her feet stop in front of you as she lifts her arms toward you for a hug. You quickly drop your bags, scrambling to return her gesture as quickly as you can. The hug is an awkward one. Arms are around middles, but there is a gap between bodies. To anyone looking from a distance, it would seem as if you two don’t even know each other. But, at this time in your life, that’s essentially true. The hug breaks apart almost as soon as it begins, both of you taking a step back to put some distance between you. 

“I’m sure you’ve had a long trip. Go ahead and choose your room and get settled. Though, I’m sure you’ll choose the gardenia room. It always was your favorite.” A smile creeps to your lips at the mention of your childhood choice of room. She was right about it. That room had been your favorite. “Do you still have the gardenia garden, Aunt Helen?” The look on her face takes you aback a little. For a split second, she looks angry. She quickly changes her expression to one of confusion. “Oh dear, there’s never been a garden dedicated solely to gardenias. However, there are some planted in one of the rose gardens. Maybe that is what you’re thinking of.” It’s your turn to be confused. You distinctly remember playing in a garden full of nothing but gardenias. 

You don’t want to argue, there is a chance that you created that memory as one of your stories, so you give her a nod as you tell her that you’re going to go get settled. You grab your bags, though you didn’t bring many, the three that you do have are large and filled to the brim. Making your way up the stairs is a little tricky since there are 20 of them in total, but you manage. Turning left at the top of the stairs, you pick up your pace a little, excited to get to your room. It sits at the end of the hall on the right side. You take a deep breath as you set your bags down to open the door, making sure to open it slowly so you get the wave of nostalgia that you know will come with seeing the room for the first time in years. 

Seeing the room is like a breath of fresh air. It feels like coming home after a long day of work, knowing that relaxation and happiness are waiting for you. It almost makes you want to cry. You leave your bags at the door for a moment, you just need to feel the room first. There are fresh gardenias in a small, white vase on the bedside table. That has always been one of your favorite smells and it makes your heart flutter when it hits your nose. The king size bed has the same white and green bed set it’s always had. The handmade quilt, certainly not made by your aunt, is the color of grass and has gardenias sewn into the fabric. You run your hand over the top of the quilt, memories of spending nights completely enveloped in the warmth of the fabric as you write in one of the many notebooks you always brought with you.

There’s an oak writing table that stands in front of the large bay window that overlooks an area that looks different than the rest of the estate. It looks more run down, like it hadn’t been taken care of in years. You could have sworn that it was once a beautiful garden that you had spent much of your time in. It hits you that you seem to remember that patch of land being your favorite spot, but it doesn’t seem like that is true. 

You turn your attention to the wallpaper. It gives a little more color to the room. The background of the paper is a soft yellow while images of gardenia bushes cover the rest. All perfectly spaced out, just like you know Helen had wanted. You finally decided to grab your bags and start to put your things away, a little more pep in your step. You’re more than excited to be back in this room, where it seems like all of your story ideas seemed to have formed. You feel as if you had the greatest idea for a story while staying here over those summers, but it’s just another thing you can’t remember. Perhaps it will come back with time. You certainly need it to come back.

After all of your things are put away, you make your way back down the stairs to familiarize yourself with the house again. You’re sure that it will all come flooding back, but you’d rather get the learning process over now to prevent any future issues. The sitting room is off to the left of the stairs, through a doorway, the dining room is off to the right. Deciding to look through the left side of the house first, you make your way into the sitting room. The same old couches and chairs adorn the room, though they still look like they’ve never been used. You guess that there’s a chance that they haven’t. The fireplace stands tall and clean, another thing you’re sure Helen has never used. There are multiple tables placed around the room, all made with dark, polished wood. 

To the left there’s another doorway, this one leading into the sunroom. Wicker chairs are placed a few feet from each other, a small table in between each chair. You remember spending your time here when the rain prevented you from your outdoor adventures. You’d sit on the floor since the chairs were always uncomfortable, writing your heart out. You sure wish you could find where those notebooks had gone. The back half of the first floor is Steven’s quarters. He’s always been a nice man, but he keeps to himself and you respect that.

Making your way back through the sitting room, you take a second to look out of the small window that sits on the front of the house. Gardens fill your field of view. More gardens than you ever thought a person could have. You feel certain that Helen has a garden for every flower she could possibly grow. 

The dining room houses a table long enough to sit around 14 people, though you know nowhere near that many people have even been in the house. Like everything else, it’s a dark, polished wood. Helen is nothing but consistent in her design choices. The kitchen sits behind a set of double doors, which are painted a pristine white, no doubt kept clean by the lack of traffic. Helen has to have a maid that comes and cleans at some point, there’s no way she’d ever stoop so low as to clean herself. You already know what the kitchen will look like, large stoves and ovens that could cook meals for an obscene amount of people. Your watch tells you that it will be dark soon so you put off your plan of going out to the gardens until tomorrow. 

Helen is nowhere to be seen, though you aren’t surprised. She’s always been a mysterious woman, keeping to herself much like Steven. A rumbling from your stomach lets you know that you should probably eat, which means that you have to actually venture into the kitchen. Opening the doors, you’re surprised to find a portly woman rummaging through some pans. “Oh. I didn’t realize someone was in here. Usually Steven is the only staff that stays here at the mansion.” Your voice seems to startle the woman, causing her to hit her head on the cabinet she was looking in. She lets out a groan as she rubs the back of her head. “Fuck! Shit! Damn! I am so sorry!” You aren’t sure if you mean to curse, but it happens anyway. The lady turns to face you, a bright smile on her face. “It’s ok, really. I probably would have done that even if you hadn’t startled me.” The giggle she lets out after speaking is infectious, making you giggle along with her. “I’m Julia.” You take her outstretched hand and give it a firm shake. “I’m Y/N. Helen is my aunt.” 

You watch as Julia’s expression sours and you’re half expecting it to bounce back, but it doesn’t. “Didn’t know that mean, old broad had family.” She immediately seems to realize what she said since her eyes go wide and she looks a little panicked. “Oh, shoot! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean that. Ms. Helen is lovely.” Her nervous giggle and her flustered state makes you smile. “Hey, you’re the one that works here and spends more time here than I do. Your opinion of her is probably more accurate than mine. I haven’t seen her since I was 15.” She heaves a sigh of relief at your blatant uncaring attitude towards her unkind words about your aunt. “Whew. Thought I really made a mess of things there. Can I get you something to eat?” You give her a shake of your head, telling her that you were just refamiliarizing yourself with the house before you head up to your room. She gives you a little nod and a smile, telling you that she’ll be heading home soon, but she’ll be back the next morning for breakfast. 

The bed in the gardenia room looks like heaven as you walk through the door. Maybe the trip hit you harder than you expected or maybe it’s just being back here, but your eyes are suddenly heavy and all you want is to sleep. No alarm, no designated time to wake up, just sleep as long as your body needs. You take your time changing into your pajamas and washing your face and brushing your teeth before climbing between the sheets and stretching out. It hits you that you haven’t let your mother know that you arrived safely, so you pull out your phone to type out a quick text. Annoyance comes over you as you look at the screen. No service, of course. You should have known, you are in the middle of nowhere after all. You make the decision to call her from Helen’s phone tomorrow. You wiggle a little, making yourself comfortable and set your phone back on the bedside table, not even bothering to charge it. Flicking the lamp off, you quickly fall into a sleep filled with dreams of a boy with a dazzling smile. 

You wake up feeling more rested than you have felt in years. The sun is already high in the sky when you crawl out of bed and shuffle to the bathroom. You settle for a simple sundress to wear for the day, grabbing a cardigan just in case you get a chill. Today, you explore the gardens. Breakfast is being put away when you make your way into the dining room. Luckily, Julia spots you and greets you with a smile and a wave. “Morning, sunshine. I saved you a plate. I put it in the microwave for you.” You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your stomach growling at the mention of food. You follow her into the kitchen, reaching into the microwave to grab the plate of blueberry pancakes and bacon and involuntarily let out a moan. “These are my favorite. How did you know?” Julia gives you a sly smile. “A certain gardener told me.” Steven? There’s no way he remembered that. You haven’t seen him in years. The look on your face must give your thoughts away. “That man remembers everything. It’s insane, really. So, what are your plans for the day?”

The sundress was a great choice. The weather is wonderful. It’s not too hot, not too cold, the perfect balance fornthe spring. There’s a light breeze blowing, enough to keep you cool, but not make you cold. It’s the perfect day for exploring. You stand by the steps, looking around trying to figure out where to go first. After some thought, you decided to start with the daisy garden. It took some time for you to orient yourself, but you managed more quickly than you thought you would, though most of the layout seemed like muscle memory to you. 

The daisies were off to the left of the grounds, tall hedges sounding the garden. That was something universal with the gardens. Every garden had hedges all the way around it, Helen’s way of making sure that to be able to fully see the garden, you had to actually enter the garden. Every hedge was neatly trimmed, Steven’s doing you’re sure. Taking your time, you slowly maneuvered your way through the garden. Daisies of every color surrounded you, some you were sure were some sort of hybrid or something. Helen seemed to have flowers in colors you had never seen before. There was a patch of what looked like a peach color, and it honestly took your breath away.

In the center of the garden, there was a stone bench that gave a good view of the hedge lion that stood in front of you. You weren’t sure you’d ever not be amazed by Steven’s gardening skills. Every garden seemed to be like it came right out of a fairy tale. The thought of why Helen never opened the grounds to onlookers crossed your mind as you stared at the beauty of the daisy garden, but you quickly dismissed it. Helen was a selfish woman, you wouldn’t dream of denying that. There was no way she would share the possession most dear to her with anyone that she wasn’t related to. You also weren’t sure anyone would come. Your aunt had a bit of a reputation for being a rude woman. 

A memory of going to town on your last summer here came to the forefront of your mind. Helen had taken you to town with her for some reason or another. She rarely made trips into town so you had been excited for the journey. Everyone seemed to move out of the way as Helen walked by. At the time, you hadn’t thought much of it, assuming that they were just being polite. Thinking back on it now, it seemed like they had been afraid of her. It was like they were living in fear of even being perceived by her. 

You had heard them whispering, and if Helen had heard she hadn’t let on. You hadn’t been able to make out much of what they had been saying, mostly just ‘witch’ and ‘old Mrs. Kim.’ That brought back another memory. On your rare trips into town, you had heard old Mrs. Kim mentioned numerous times. Mostly when mothers were disciplining their children for being out late. “I told you to be back here by dusk! Do you want me to end up like old Mrs. Kim?” You hadn’t been, and still weren’t, sure what that meant. Other times, it had been when two women were talking, usually one insinuating that the other was crazy. “You’re acting like old Mrs. Kim, you need to get your head on straight.” You made a mental note to ask Helen who Mrs. Kim had been.

The sun was starting to be a bit much for you, though it wasn’t unbearably hot, you were starting to get a bit uncomfortable. Heaving yourself off of the bench, you made your way back through the garden, still taking your time. The entrance to the garden gave you another flash of memory. A vision of you running as fast as you could, white dress flowing with each step you made. You couldn’t have been more than 9. There was a smile on your face, and it made you smile just seeing the memory. Past you ran towards the run down part of the grounds, but the memory faded as you reached your destination. You shook your head as the image of yourself disappeared, your feet automatically carrying you back to the house. You’d make it to investigate the dilapidated garden. Eventually.

Climbing the stairs to the front porch, the urge to sit in one of the rocking chairs hit you. You smiled to yourself before making your way inside and to the kitchen. You were sure Julia must have made some tea or lemonade, maybe both. Pushing the doors to the kitchen open, the smell of food invaded your nostrils and you gave a pleased hum. “You took longer than I thought you would. It's been about 3 hours.” That explains the sun. You gave her a toothy grin as you made your way to the fridge. “Any chance you have tea or lemonade in here?” The woman gave you a smirk before she spoke. “Both.” You knew it.

Planting yourself in one of the rocking chairs, you sipped your drink. The mix of tea and lemonade was as refreshing and you had hoped. Your thoughts wandered without control. Who had you been running to? Your mind drifted back to the dream you had the night before. The boy with the dazzling smile. Who was he? He seemed so familiar to you, but you couldn't quite place where you knew him from. Maybe he had been a playmate from town. But then again, that didn't make any sense. You were barely in town as a child and even when you were, you never spoke to anyone.

The creaking of the door brought you out of your thoughts. You turned, expecting Julia to walk through, perhaps taking a small break while the food was in the oven. Instead, Steven's form greeted you. “Steven! It's been a long time, how have you been?” Your voice seemed to startle the man since his head whipped in your direction, eyes a little wide. He relaxed once he realized that you were the one speaking. “It's good to see you again, Miss Y/N.” Your face scrunched at the title. He had always called you that and you had always hated it.

“I've told you a thousand times, just call me Y/N. Miss Y/N makes me feel old and like you're below me or something. Helen may like that, but I'm not Helen.” Steven gave you a soft smile as he made his way to sit in the chair to your left. “No can do, Miss Y/N. I'm a gentleman with manners.” The statement made you laugh and give him a playful swat on the arm. “The most gentleman to ever gentleman, Steven.”

The two of you sat in silence for a while, enjoying each other's presence. Steven had never been the most talkative, but he had always been comforting. He listened to your childish ramblings all those years ago, nodding his head and gasping when you said something dramatic. He was a friend to you and you loved him for that. 

It was Steven who finally broke the silence, surprisingly. “It sure has been quite lonely without having your visits, Miss Y/N. Glad to have you back. The gardens need you.” You gave him a bright smile, though you were sure that the gardens were thriving in his perfectly capable hands. “Steven, these gardens need no one but you. They're only this beautiful because of the time and care you put into them.” The look on his face was a little somber as he spoke again. “I appreciate it, Miss Y/N, but you and your heart are more needed than you realize. But you will remember in time.” With that, he stood and walked off into the grounds, leaving you rather confused.

The sun was starting to set by the time you went back into the house. Your stomach was starting to growl, and you were sure dinner was close to being ready, if it wasn't already finished. Helen was descending the stairs as you made your way through the front door. “Dear, dinner is ready and you look a bit of a mess.” She glanced down at your hands and legs, which prompted you to look as well. You did have a bit of dirt on your skin. “Go wash up before you join me.” 

Helen had always been this way, a bit rude. You flashed her a tight smile, nodding as you made your way to your room. Stepping through the door of your special sanctuary, you heaved a sigh of relief. The room just felt lighter than the rest of the house. You made quick work of undressing and showering, a bit eager to get food into your body. Once you were bathed and dressed, you stepped out into the hall, not noticing the notebook sitting on your bedside table.

Dinner passed slowly. There wasn't much conversation, though the food was amazing. Julia had made roast and potatoes with a side salad, and you were sure you had never tasted a roast so tender and full of flavor. Voices from the kitchen could barely be heard, Julia and Steven no doubt. You wished you could retreat through the doors and eat with them, their company would be much more welcome than Helen’s. She had finished her food already, but had always been adamant that everyone be finished before anyone left the table.

“Dear.” Her voice caused you to meet her gaze, which was hardened. “While I am pleased to have you back, I must ask why the sudden wish to return.” You knew this would come up eventually. You took a deep breath, thinking through your words carefully. “I needed a break from city life. I have hit a wall with my writing. Being here always gave me new and wonderful ideas. I thought it might help.” Your aunt gave you a curt nod, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin even though she hadn't eaten anything. “Well, if you're done, I'll retire to my room now.” The sliding of her chair filled the quiet room as she turned and made her way to the stairs.

The bed was comfortable as you fell onto it. You weren't particularly tired, but it felt nice to lay down. Steven’s words from earlier swirled through your head. He obviously knew something you didn't, but you also knew that trying to pry would get you nowhere. Out of habit, you turned to grab your phone, mentally cursing yourself when you remembered you had no service and you had forgotten to call your mother. Your attention was immediately diverted to the notebook sitting neatly by your phone, puzzling you.

You hadn't taken a notebook out of your bag, that you knew for certain. Your hand changed direction to reach for the notebook. Shuffling down under your blanket, you brought the book in front you, flipping through the pages. You stopped at a page that was dated just after your 9th birthday. 

The gardens here are so cool. There's so many of them. It'll take me weeks to go through them all.

You chuckled at the thoughts of your past self and flipped a few more pages. This entry was set a few days later.

I found a new garden! I was exploring around the old, gross part of the grounds and I looked through some vines and found it. Aunt Helen called me back before I could get a good look, but I'm gonna go back tomorrow. 

This gave you pause. You didn't remember ever exploring the old part of the grounds. Helen had always told you to stay away from that part of the estate, stating it was dangerous. Deciding to read the next entry, you quickly flipped to the next page.

The new garden is so pretty! It's already my favorite. It has some of every flower and it's huge. And there's a house in there! I didn't see anyone, but maybe tomorrow. 

This had to be some of your childhood stories. There was no way that there was another house on the property. With a sigh, you set the book back on the table and clicked your light off. Giving your pillow a fluff, you laid down and drifted into a dream. 

“Hongjoong that wasn't funny!” The young boy stood in front of you holding his belly and laughing. “You should have seen your face!” He flailed his arms around and made an exaggerated scared face while you pouted. “You shouldn't scare me like that. It's not nice.” One look at your face let him know that he had really messed up, you looked like you were about to cry. “I'm sorry Y/N. I didn't mean to make you sad. I never want to make you sad.” You perked up after his apology, telling him that it was ok and reaching for his hand. He took your hand in his and you both ran off into the garden. 

You awoke with a startle, a little disoriented. The dream was still fresh on your mind, and it left so many questions. Was that the garden you had written about in the notebook? Why did the dream seem so real? It had been like a distant memory. And who the fuck was Hongjoong? Your immediate reaction was to grab the notebook again and try to search for the name, but a knock on the bedroom door made you put that off. “Y/N dear, I’m going into town today and I would like for you to join me. Do hurry and get ready, please. I’d rather not have to wait much longer.”

The ride to town with Helen was silent, just as it always had been. Why she wanted you to join was beyond you, but you could use the time to go over your thoughts. Despite being confused,  you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness at having woken up from your dream. The boy, Hongjoong it seemed, had already created a home in your mind. He seemed so familiar, like an old friend. But you were sure you had never met him. So, why was he invading your dreams? And why did you have such a vivid picture of this new garden? Was it something your mind had conjured on its own? It had to be. There had never been a garden in the dilapidated part of the grounds, and there certainly had never been another house. 

The abrupt stop of the car brought you out of your deep thoughts. Swiveling your head, you noticed that Helen had parked at the town market. It was a small building for a small town, nothing fancy, but it had all the essentials. The market was set in a shopping center of sorts, again just a small little gathering of buildings. There was a clothing store, a barbershop and the library all huddled around one parking lot. An idea sprung to the forefront of your mind. “Aunt Helen, I think I’d like to visit the library, if that’s ok. I could use a good book to read.” You aren’t entirely sure why you decided to lie to your aunt, something just told you that you probably shouldn’t tell her your actual plans. Helen heaved a heavy sigh from the driver’s seat. “I was hoping you would actually help me, but do as you wish, dear.” Turning your head and rolling your eyes, you stepped out of the car and made your way to the library doors.

The library was like any other library, you weren’t really sure why you expected anything else. Like everything in the town, it was small, but it seemed to be bigger than it looked from the outside. Rows of bookshelves spanned down each side of the building and behind the librarian’s desk. Stepping forward, you stopped at the desk where an older lady with thin glasses and a tight bun looked up at you. You held in a giggle at the stereotypical librarian look. “Good afternoon, how can I help you?” She had a friendly smile, a genuine smile rather than the customer service smile many people wore when they were working. “Good afternoon, ma’am. Does this library have newspaper archives?”

Surprisingly, the library had a basement. It was a bit drafty, letting the cool, spring air run through the room. It obviously wasn’t used much, boxes stacked up in one corner. The librarian led you to a single computer that sat on a desk in the very back of the basement. “Sorry that you have to come all the way down here for the archives.” She gave you a kind, somewhat sad smile. “Pretty much everything has transferred to tablets or whatever new fangled technology the kids are using these days. But the newspaper archives haven’t been switched over yet, they’re still on this computer, aside from much older ones that are still on floppy disks.” You gave her a nod of your head with a reassurance that this was fine. “What year are you looking for, sweetie?” It took a moment for you to answer. “I don’t know.”

The blinking cursor on the screen was a bit daunting. The kind librarian had been patient with you, letting you know that it was ok to not know a year and that a name could be used as well. All you had to do was type it into the search bar. If the name couldn't be found, always check the floppies. You didn't think you'd have to go back that far. Were you crazy? You didn't even have a full name. Just Hongjoong. There had to be more than just one Hongjoong, how would you know what you were looking for? Pushing the doubts aside, you typed in Hongjoong's name and pressed enter.

Unlike what you expected, only a couple of articles popped up. The headlines were vastly different from each other, and you were sure the two couldn't be related. After looking over the words for a moment, you chose to click on the first link.

Father takes son and runs.

Kim Jae-seok and Kim Hongjoong have been missing for 3 weeks at this point. While it was first suspected that the father and son had had an unfortunate accident, the running theory now is that Jae-seok has kidnapped his son and left his wife, Kim Eunbi. Mrs. Kim has adamantly argued against this theory, blaming a local woman for the disappearances, but there is no evidence at this time to substantiate her claims.

You stared at the screen with a baffled expression. At the bottom of the article there was a picture of a young boy and an older man, both wearing giant grins. The boy sat on the man’s shoulders, arms wrapped around the man’s forehead. The caption at the bottom of the picture gave the pair’s names. Kim Jae-seok and Kim Hongjoong. The article was dated around the time you would have been 9, and the boy looked to be around your age. He was also the Hongjoong from your dream.

It took you a few minutes to gather the gumption to click on the next article. After a few deep breaths, you moved the mouse, ready for what came next.

Mother of missing boy ostracized: grief or insanity?

2 years after the disappearance of her son and husband, Kim Eunbi has been shunned by the community. She has stuck to her initial claims that a local woman is responsible for the disappearances. Her claims that the owner of the large garden estate has her family hidden away have remained consistent throughout the investigation. Searches were done, but no trace of Kim Jae-seok and Kim Hongjoong were found. The woman is quoted saying “I feel for the poor woman, losing her family, but I certainly have nothing to do with her misfortune.” At this time, the case has been cold. It is still thought that Jae-seok had kidnapped their son.

As you read the words, your mind swirled. Mrs. Kim seemed to believe that Helen had something to do with the disappearances. But to your knowledge, Helen hadn't really spoken to anyone from town. Her visits were always quick, with as little interaction as possible. Looking at you watch let you know that you didn't have much time left before your aunt was done with her errands. On a whim, you erased Hongjoong's name from the search bar, typing in his mother's name instead.

The same articles popped up, only there was one thing added. An obituary. Your heart panged as you read it. She died without knowing what became of her husband and son. You quickly closed out of the tab, rushing back upstairs, thanking the librarian again on your way out. Helen was just getting back to her car as you stepped through the library doors.

You helped her put her groceries into her car, silent the entire time. You definitely had some things to think about. There was no way your hermit of an aunt could have anything to do with the case of the missing men. Mrs. Kim had to have had some sort of mental break due to her grief. Once the bags were neatly placed in the trunk, you took your place in the passenger seat once more.

“Where's your book, dear?” Helen was quick to notice that you came back from the library empty handed and you quickly came up with a believable excuse. “Nothing really interested me. I didn't want to keep you waiting.” That seemed to satisfy her, giving you a nod and a hum. Your thoughts drifted again. Sure Helen was rude, but she wasn't dangerous. Was she?

Steven came to help bring the groceries inside, Julia following soon after. With their blessing, you decided to tour another garden. Maybe that would help you clear your head. You started walking, not really having a particular garden in mind, stopping at the first one you came to. Camillas. Though the camilla garden was one of the smaller gardens, it was still large. 

Rather than hedges surrounding it, there was a tall fence, dark wood of course. Helen did have a theme after all. Despite your thoughts, you tried to pay attention to the beauty surrounding you. Once again, there were flowers of every color. How Helen managed to find so many colors baffled you, but you guessed that when you had that much money, things were more possible for you.  

At the center of the garden stood another statue. Every garden had one, or some sort of hedge animal, if you remembered correctly. This particular statue was of a man with a young boy peeking from behind the man's leg. The base of the statue had no plaque, but was surrounded by yellow camillas. The man's face was rather somber looking, which was odd for such a beautiful garden. 

Helen watched you from the window, a scowl on her face. You were hiding something and she could tell. She could always tell. Except when it came to her oaf of a gardener. She had never been able to get a good read on the man, despite years of experience and practice. She would have done away with Steven if she were able, but she knew the deal and she couldn't go against that. She didn't know what or how, but she knew something had to be done about your nosey tendencies.

You sat amongst the camillas until the sun began to set and a chill started biting at your skin. You still hadn't made sense of the information you had found in the library. Nothing made sense. You wanted to ask someone if they had heard of Hongjoong and his father, but Helen wasn't an option. You doubt Julia knew anything, which only left Steven. Even if he knew anything, you doubted he would say. He'd been working for your aunt for years, he had a loyalty to her.

“Hey mom. Sorry for not calling sooner. My phone has no service here and it kept slipping my mind.” Your mother’s voice was pleasant as she told you that it was ok. She was sure Helen would have called if you had never arrived. A thought passed through your mind and you considering asking your mother if she knew anything about the Kims. Your voice made the decision for you. “Mom, do you know anything about a missing boy and his father?” Silence. It felt like 5 minutes of silence before your mother spoke again. 

“Jae-seok was a friend of your father's. They had gone to school together and had been close ever since. Your dad had always joked about him becoming his brother in law one day.” Your mother left out a breathy chuckle and you kept your attention steady, wanting to know more. 

“When Jae-Seok met Eunbi, the jokes stopped. It was clear that the two of them were meant to be together. They had been so in love. It didn't take long for them to marry, your father was the best man. After Hongjoong was born, Helen gave Jae-Seok the job as her gardener. He made those gardens what they are.” 

You knew that Jae-Seok had been the gardener, but just how close he was to your family was new information. Your mother continued, giving you everything you knew.

“When Jae-Seok left with Hongjoong, both Eunbi and your father had been insistent that there was no way Jae-Seok would do that. He loved his life and he worshiped Eunbi and treated her like a queen. Your father searched for him as much as he could, but after a while he had to give up. The disappearances were the reason we moved. He just couldn't handle staying in a town with so many memories.”

You didn't know what to say. Your head was spinning a little. You had gotten so much information in such a short period of time. Despite all of the thinking you had done today, you still had more to do. You thanked your mother and talked a bit more before you said your goodbyes. Deciding that you weren't particularly hungry, you let Helen know that you would be skipping dinner. The woman looked far from pleased, but you paid her no mind. You were also unaware of the man standing not too far off with a smile on his face.

Laying on your bed, you felt exhausted. You hadn’t really done anything extensive, but your mind hadn't stopped running in circles since your trip to the library. You went through the facts one more time.

1. You had dreams and journal entries about a boy named Hongjoong. 

2. Your father knew the boy's father.

3. Your aunt had been accused of being involved. 

4. Hongjoong was missing.

Turning to your bedside table, you reached to grab the journal you had found the night before. You paused. There was another journal sitting on top. Where were these coming from? A knock on your door took your attention away from the journals. Giving a deep sigh, you prepared yourself to face Helen. 

Opening the door, you were a little surprised to find Steven. “Thought you should probably eat.” He extended his arm, a plate of the dinner Julia had made in his hand. You couldn't help but smile. Steven was a really nice guy. As you took the plate, you gathered enough courage to ask him a question. “Steven, do you remember me ever mentioning a boy named Hongjoong when I was a child?”

The man stiffed a little before relaxing, as if he was trying to hide his reaction. “I'm sure I can't say, Miss Y/N.” Not the answer you were expecting. Steven remembered everything. “It's getting to be a little past my bedtime. Gotta be up early. You should do some reading, Miss Y/N. Goodnight.”

His mentioning reading struck you as a little odd. He had seen you come back from town, he had to have known you hadn't brought a book back and there weren't any books in your room. Sure, he could have assumed you had brought some with you. That was the most logical explanation, but something was still bothering you.

Shrugging the odd conversation off, you took your food to your bed, planning to nibble on it as you read the journals. You chose the new one, flipping through the pages. Your browsing stop and a page that was dated when you would have been 13.

“Hongjoong and I read today, it was pretty relaxing. I like that I can have someone that doesn't feel the need to always fill the silence. Sometimes that's just what I need, to be in someone's presence but still enjoy the quiet. We did talk a little, though. He's such a great listener. He did get a little sad when I asked him to come look at the gardens with me tomorrow. He said something about not being able to leave. I'm not sure what he meant. I'll try again tomorrow.”

There was a large break in the page before a sentence placed at the very bottom.

“I'm gonna marry him one day.”

You almost closed the book immediately. Your 13 year old self was thinking of marrying her imaginary friend. It just seemed silly. You grabbed the other journal, finding a page before the last one you had read.

“I'm writing this in case I forget, the new garden can be hard to find. All you have to do is find the part of the fence with two missing boards. There's a few spots like that, but the one to the garden has vines all over it and an H carved into the board next to it.”

You finished your food, setting the plate and journal back on the table. Looks like you had some exploring to do tomorrow. 

“Don't do this, Y/N. Please. You know I can't come with you, please don't just stop coming. The look on Hongjoong's face broke your heart. He was your best friend, but you were starting to think this was all in your mind. Some imaginary world you had created in your mind. “Joong, I'm getting too old to play make believe with people who aren't there.” His face changed from sadness to anger. “You know damn well that I'm not an imaginary friend. You know what, go. Leave and don't come back. I'm fine here with my dad anyway.” You couldn't help the tear that fell from your eye as you watched him walk away.”

Waking up in a sweat was becoming normal. You groaned as you climbed out of bed to brush your teeth and change your clothes. Choosing to forego a shower, you'd be getting dirty today anyway, you picked out some jeans and an old shirt that you had turned into a night shirt. You sat and ate breakfast with Helen, choosing to ignore her comments about your outfit. She asked what your plans for the day were and you kept your cool, simply telling her you would be visiting the lilies today. She said nothing as she gathered her dirty dishes and took them to the kitchen.

Steven watched as you walked out of the door and headed to the old part of the estate. He couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped him and the smile that came to his face. He watched your form disappear before he spoke. “Finally.”

The vines were far overgrown. Steven must not worry about this section because there was nothing here. You felt a little ridiculous. Looking around for some garden that probably didn't exist. After an hour of searching, you were ready to give up. You could barely see any of the fence, there was a slim chance you'd be able to find missing boards and a carving. Moving to turn around and head back, you saw a sliver of a missing board. Stepping over to it, you pulled the vines to the side. Two missing boards. You searched around the boards around the gap. On the left board, a small H. 

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the incoming feeling of feeling like a silly little girl. Crouching down, you stepped through the gap. It took a little bit of wiggling, but you made it to the other side. When you lifted your head, you were in awe. The most beautiful garden you had ever seen was before you. Gardenias. Gardenias everywhere.

You stood still for a moment, just taking in the beauty. The shock subsided a little and you took your first steps further into the new majestic place you had found. Your feet seemed to know where to go, weaving you through the bushes. You stopped when you came upon a house. Just like the house from your dreams. You studied the house for a few seconds. It wasn't run down at all. In fact, it looked like it had been well taken care of. You watched the door open and a man step out. He stood there looking at you for what felt like forever. A smile slowly creeped across his face. “You're back.”

Your mind went blank. Suddenly a rush of memories came back to you. Meeting Hongjoong for the first time when you were 9, daily visits to the garden, meeting his dad, kissing him when you were 14. Everything hit you like a wave. You took a small step forward, barely moving. “Hongjoong.” The two of you slowly made your way to each other, both of you a little cautious. Once you were right in front of each other, you took a moment to just take him in.

He was handsome, he had grown into one of the most handsome men you had ever seen, if not the most handsome. He tentatively brought his hand to your cheek as if he was worried you'd back away from him. His thumb made soft movements against your face, his eyes boring into yours. “I thought I'd never see you again. I've waited. Every day I come out and take care of the flowers I planted for you, hoping I'll see you walk up. I've missed you so much. I'm sorry for the last conversation we had.”

You felt tears forming and you did your best to blink them away. You leaned into his touch, relishing in his warmth. You had so many questions for him, but you couldn't bring yourself to ask yet. Your brain was screaming at you to touch him. You quickly reached for him, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. He took no time in hugging you back, squeezing a little tighter. “I'm sorry it took so long for me to come back.” Your words were spoken into his chest, coming out a bit muffled. He must have heard you because he responded immediately. “You're here now. That's all that matters.”

Hongjoong pulled you inside, asking you to tell him about the 10 years he had missed. You told him about your high school and college graduations, moving to the city, becoming a writer. His gaze never wavered from you, fully enthralled in what you had to say. Every now and then he would give your thigh a squeeze. Once you had filled him in on your life, you asked him the same. He could see you looking around the house, obviously wondering where his father was. He let his head fall forward a little.

“Dad died about 3 years ago, it's just me now.” Your heart sank. He had lost the only person he had. He had been completely alone for 3 years. Guilt ran through your body. As if he knew what you were thinking, he grabbed your hand. “Please don't feel guilty. You had a life to live and death is natural.” Your questions finally made their way back to the forefront of your mind. Taking a deep breath, you squeezed his hand. “Joong. Why can't you leave the garden?”

He was silent for a while, gathering his words. “Dad explained everything to me before he died. There was a woman who was in love with him. She had asked him to be with her multiple times, but he always turned her down. When he met my mom, things got bad. He was the gardener here and we lived on the property. In this house, actually.” He paused, taking a deep breath before he continued. 

“She continued to try to change Dad's mind even after he married Mom and I was born, but he still refused. Mom had left to go to town one day and Dad and I were playing in the garden, it was pansies then.” He gave a sad chuckle and met your eyes, gaging your reaction as he continued. 

“Your aunt came to the garden, looking for Dad. She started talking, but she wasn't making any sense. Next thing Dad knew, she was gone. He went looking for her, but when he got to the gate, he couldn't leave. The gate would open, but he couldn't step out. We were trapped.” You could feel the tears running down your face. You were filled with sadness, but also rage. How could Helen do this? Mrs. Kim had been right all along.

“The last thing Dad heard was your aunt telling him that he would stay here until he realized that they weren't meant to be. She said until true love was realized. She said we wouldn't be able to be found, especially by my mother. So, I'm stuck here. I don't even know anything about Mom.” The tears were falling harder now. You knew you had to tell him, but it was so hard.

“I found news articles about your disappearance. Your mother never stopped looking. She looked until she died.” Hongjoong looked broken. He had lost everyone, and he had lost you for years. Every bit of emotion you had ever had for Hongjoong had hit you full force. You had forgotten him, yes, but your heart had apparently not. You decided right then that even though you weren’t sure how, you’d figure out how to get him out of the garden.

You kept returning to see Hongjoong every day for weeks. You were sure that Helen was getting suspicious, but you did your best to keep her from figuring out where you were going. The two of you talked like old times, sometimes even playing tag and hide and seek like you had when you were kids. Hongjoong still had the books the two of you would read all those years ago, and it became a routine of reading together. You had even taken trips to the library to bring him new books to read, which he was immensely grateful for. 

After a month of daily visits, you were sure that you were in love with Hongjoong. You suspected that some part of you always had been, but you were old enough to understand the things you were feeling. You wanted to tell him, but you were nervous. You knew that he would never treat you badly for telling him that you had fallen in love with him, but the fear was still there. The sight of his house made you forget about your worry immediately. He was standing outside, just like he always was. His back was turned to you while he was bent down watering the gardenias that bloomed around the house. With a smirk, you quietly walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist. He jumped with a small shriek and turned to face you with a pout. 

“That wasn’t funny. You scared the hell out of me.” You couldn’t help but laugh, remembering how you had said those words to him so many years ago. “Consider that payback for scaring me when we were 9.” The pout disappeared from his face and was replaced with the bright smile you loved to see him wear. Looking at him now, you were definitely in love with him. Without giving it a second thought, you pushed forward, lips meeting his. 

It took him a moment to react, obviously surprised. As soon as he realized what was happening, his lips started to move against yours. Your heart was soaring, you were absolutely sure that you could kiss him every second of the day and never get tired of the feeling. One of his arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you closer, the other making it up to your cheek. Time seemed to stop as the two of you kissed until you had to separate for air. The two of you stared at each other, just taking everything in. “I love you, Joong.” 

Your eyes widened as you heard your own voice. That was definitely not planned. You dropped your gaze, feeling a bit embarrassed. Hongjoong’s fingers found your chin, tilting your face up. “Do you know what gardenias mean?” The question caused you a little confusion, but you shook your head. “Gardenias mean secret love. I planted these because it was my way of telling you that I loved you.  I’ve been in love with you since I was 15. I didn’t realize it until after you left. At first I thought it was just that I missed the only friend I had ever had, but that wasn’t it.” You smiled at him softly, letting him speak until he had said all he needed to say. “I knew it wasn’t that when I would go to the gate every day and just read and wait. I would hear voices on the other side every now and then and I always hoped that it was you. I stopped caring about whether or not I would ever leave the garden, as long as I had you here with me.” He ended his thoughts with a peck to your forehead. 

The tears came again, damn him for being so sweet. “Hongjoong? Will you make love to me?” He took a step back from you and you were sure that you had fucked up. He lowered his head to hide the blush that decorated his cheeks. “I don’t know how.” His voice was only a whisper, and you mentally kicked yourself for not thinking about that. “It’s ok. I’m sorry. We don’t have t-” Your voice was cut short as he stepped forward to grab your hand. “But I want to. Is that ok?” 

Hongjoong laid you onto his bed with shaking hands. Your lips had been pushed against each other since he had told you that he wanted to make love to you. Your heart was so full. You could tell he was nervous. “Joong. Take as long as you need. We don't have to do this now.” Your reassurance seemed to relax the man. “I want to do this now. I'm just nervous.” He gave an embarrassed chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. 

You reached down, rubbing him over his pants. His hips bucked into your hand and he let out a sigh at the contact. He buried his face in your neck, leaving small kisses along your skin. One of his hands slid up your body to your breast, giving it a cautious squeeze. You let out a small moan, letting him know he was doing the right thing. 

The sound seemed to relieve him of some of his nervousness, causing him to nibble on your neck and slide his hand further down your body, stopping over your clothed core. Due to the dress you were wearing, he was able to feel your damp panties, moaning at the feeling. “So wet.” His lips were back on yours immediately. His movements weren't completely on target, but you let him experiment until he found what made you moan the loudest. 

He leaned back, slipping his pants off, leaving him only in his boxers. Looking over him, you could tell that he had made them himself. You could also tell that he was very well endowed. Hongjoong moved to hover over you, resting on his arm beside your head. An idea popped in your head and you hoped it would help with his nerves.

You pulled back from his lips just long enough to speak. “Thrust your hips forward. We can start over our clothes.” His face relaxed a bit as he thrust into your core. His cock hit your clit on the first try and you moaned as your lips found his again. Hongjoong kept a slow pace and you assumed it was an attempt to not cum early. You would have been fine if he had, just having him like this at all was enough. 

He was obviously a natural, hitting the right spot every time he moved his hips. Your hands found their place on his back, nails digging in slightly. He groaned into the kiss and you made a note to push a little further next time. His breathing began to quicken. He pulled back from your body, a little flush on his cheeks. “I don't want to cum yet and I was getting close.” 

You let him know that it was ok if he came, but he shook his head. “You first. You just may have to help me.” You pecked his lips with a nod. Grabbing his hand, you slipped it under the hem of your panties, placing it directly on your clit. “Rub in slow circles, only a little bit of pressure.” He immediately got to work and again, he was a natural. 

His lips found yours yet again, his tongue rubbing at the seam of your lips. Giving him entry to your mouth, your tongues tangled in a perfect dance. You let him lead the kiss, knowing he would do it right. His playing with your clit felt good, but you needed a little more. You pulled away again to give a few more instructions. “Keep your thumb on my clit and slide your fingers down. I need you to finger me.” The circles on your clit stopped for barely a second before he moved into action.

Sliding his index and middle fingers down your pussy to your entrance, he groaned. He suddenly stopped, eyes meeting yours. “Can I see you? All of you?” You gave him a soft smile and a nod reaching to take your dress off. He grabbed the edges of your panties and slide them down your legs. And then he stared. Just stared.

You started to get a little self conscious, squirming. “Beautiful.” His voice was barely audible, but it made your heart flutter. He admired you a little longer before he moved his hand back into position. This thumb found your clit as if he had been doing this for years. His fingers circled your entrance and he smirked at the whine you let out as your hips bucked into his hand. 

He leaned down to kiss you as he slipped his index finger inside of you. You moaned against his lips, wrapping your arms back around him. Just like with his thrusts earlier, he kept his pace slow. After a few slides of his finger, his middle finger joined his index. The feeling of being slightly more full than only a second ago had your head spinning. You were about to pull away to tell him to curl his fingers when he did that on his own. Your nails dug into his back again, causing him to pick up his pace.

You were getting close and you couldn't tell if it was because he was a quick learner, or if it was just him. You didn't care. Hongjoong whined as you began to squeeze his fingers, picking up his pace again. He was the one to pull away this time, moving his face back to your neck. His lips found your ear, biting your lobe slightly. “Cum for me, my love.” And that was all it took for you to cum around his fingers.

He kept his pace until you were pushing his arm away. “Sensitive.” He pulled his hand away from you, looking at your wetness on his fingers. He looked like he was thinking about something, then slowly lifted his hand to his mouth, pushing his fingers into his mouth. The moan he let out was obscene and it made you clench around nothing. You were still a bit winded when you reached for his boxers, letting him know you wanted them off.

He was big, but not too big. His cock was perfect. He positioned himself over you again, giving you another small peck to your lips. He reached down to wrap his hand around his member, placing it at your entrance. He looked up at you. “Ready?” You gave him a nod and he pushed into you slowly, causing you both to moan in unison. Once he was fully seated inside of you, he paused, letting himself get used to the feeling. 

You rubbed his back, trying to help him relax. After a few moments, he pulled his hips back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside of you before he pushed himself back in. He sped up a little, relishing in the feeling of your walls wrapped tightly around him. You could tell by the look on his face that he wouldn't last much longer, and all you wanted was to see him cum. To fill you completely. “It's ok, baby. Cum whenever you're ready. Don't hold back.” 

He sped his hips again, his moans getting louder. His thrusts were getting sloppy and you dug your nails into his back. “I love you, Hongjoong.” He shivered and let out the loudest moan yet as his hips stopped and his seed began to fill you. “I love you. I love you so much.” His words were shaky, but full of emotion. Once he calmed down, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you for coming back to me.”

It took two months for your aunt to finally say something to you about the garden. You had woken up, brushed your teeth and changed, and had breakfast before you walked out to go see Hongjoong. This had become such a routine that you could do it without thought. Just as you were approaching the missing boards, a voice came from behind you. “And just where are you going, dear niece?” Your body stiffened as you turned to face her. 

Her face was full of rage. You stood your ground, she had hurt so many people already. You wouldn't let her hurt anyone else. “I'm going to the garden you trapped two innocent people in.” Her face twisted into absolute hatred. “You ungrateful brat. I let you into my home and you disrespect me. How dare you?” It was your turn to feel rage.

“How dare I? How dare YOU? You couldn't accept that you weren't wanted and you cursed an entire family. You took a son and husband away from a woman who did nothing but love a man. You're disgusting.” 

You turned your back to Helen, intent on continuing your trek to see Hongjoong. Your aunt took the opportunity to grab your arm and pull you back towards her. “You will not go back there. I forbid it. If you continue to disobey you can go back to your life in the city.” You tried to pull your arm back, but Helen was stronger than she looked. “Let go of me you wretched woman!”

Hongjoong heard you yell from the garden and his feet moved faster than his brain. He ran to the garden gate, pulling on it, not even thinking twice when it opened for the first time in his life. When he stepped onto the other side, he noticed you with an older woman's hand wrapped around your arm. He saw red. He ran forward, wrapping his arms around the older woman and doing his best to pull her off of you. He managed to get her away, but she quickly broke free from his grip.

“Helen, that is enough!” Steven's voice drew everyone's attention. He was standing a few feet away, Julia by his side. He held a large book in his hand, which he handed to Julia. “This has gone on for too long, it's time to let it go. The boy has done nothing to you.” Helen made eye contact with Julia, noticing the book she held tight to her chest. 

“Yes, I found your book, not that you really hid it.” Steven's voice brought her attention back to him. “You. I don't know how you did it, but this reeks of your doing.” Her words were filled with venom, but Steven looked unbothered. He straightened his back, standing tall and proud.

“You may have forced me into silence about this situation, but I'm a crafty man. You never noticed Miss Y/N's notebooks, but I did.” Everything clicked into place. The sudden appearance of the notebooks, Steven's cryptic words. Everything made sense now.

Hongjoong stepped next to you, both of you still not realizing he had left the garden. His hand reached for yours, intertwining your fingers. You both focused on Steven, waiting for his next words.

“For years I have been forced into this sham of a marriage, into silence about how awful you are. And now it's over. The boy has made it out of the garden, Helen. True love has been realized. Your curse is broken.” 

Everyone seemed to realize that Hongjoong was free at the same time. Heads whipped to face him. Helen’s expression full of anger, yours of awe, and Hongjoong's of confusion. You wrapped your arms around him immediately, bringing him into a hug. It took him a moment to catch up to your enthusiasm, but it wasn't long before he held you tight against him.

“Now, if Miss Julia will help me, we have something planned for you. See, you're not the only one that read this little magic book of yours. We've waited for the day the boy could leave the garden. Now, he's made that garden into a home and I see no reason to take that from him. But a little garden of your own seems appropriate.”

With that, Julia began to read from the book. Her words were quick, not giving Helen enough time to make it to her to stop her. In a flash, Helen was gone. You looked at Julia, confused. You had thought that Helen's new home would appear in front of you. “I never said the garden would be here” 

It didn't take much consideration to decide to stay with Hongjoong in the house he grew up in. The garden was covered in the flowers that he planted for you. It was where your love story began, and it would be where your love story would end. 

Steven reported Helen missing and as her legal husband, that you still didn't understand, he got ownership of the estate. He had tried to give it to you, but you refused. You didn't need the big house, you just needed Hongjoong. 

You received a call from your publisher, letting you know the good news. The draft of your novel had been approved. “You still haven't told me the name of this book, my love.” You smiled at your husband, giving him a sweet kiss. Leaning to place your lips next to his ear, you whispered lowly. “The Secret Garden.”

[s-4pphics]

click! finale (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a rep and black, parental trauma, self-worth issues, slight disordered eating, brief alcoholism and hypersexuality, heavy grief, pining but depressed

A/N: finally on break yaassss….. sequel? LOL 

The air around you is strangling. You haven’t left your room in two days. You’re not passing this semester. 

The room next to yours, however, is filled with life. Ellie’s back to blasting her music and banging on walls, but you have yet to cross paths. Not in class, not at home; You haven’t seen her. Pickle never hesitates to scratch at your door for hugs. And kisses. She’s brought you so much comfort, even in times where you feel like you’re undeserving. 

Christmas is around the corner, and you’re alone. Amaya never shied away from taking you home for her breaks, but she’s gone. She hasn’t called in a while; You hope she’s doing okay. 

So, you seek escape in a different way and do what you haven’t in a long time. 

Tears flood your vision, your thumb hovering over a number you haven’t touched in ages. Your hands won’t stop trembling. You’re going to regret this. Your heart's already breaking into pieces at the heart and cloud emojis of the contact. 

Soft paws knead your thighs and you kiss kit-kat’s tiny head as she nuzzles your chin. You’re trying to keep your sobs to a minimum, but they’re tearing your throat to shreds.

Your thumb comes down on the contact and the line rings. And rings… and rings until the dial tone sounds. 

“At the tone, please record your message. When you are finished recording, you may hang up or press one for more options.”

You knew no one would answer. No one ever answers, but still, you listen for her voice. The steadiness of her breathing. You take a shaky breath, “Hi, mom.” Mindless sentences pour out of you like a waterfall. You just sit there and allow Pickle to playfully bite your finger. 

“I, uh… I’m not…” Another sob, “I’m not doing well.” 

You would never say that if she were here. You always masked your true feelings for her sake; She never needed any additional stress. 

Void images of your father reoccur in your memory, “I think there’s something wrong with me… I don’t think I’m a g-good person.” A barbed tongue affectionately licks at your finger, and you try to smile. 

“I… We found a kitty in the snow,” You whisper, “She's the cutest thing ever.” Pickle looks up like she knows what you’re saying, and you weep at her delicate eyes. 

“It was the weirdest thing…” You huff wetly, “It felt like you put her there to stop me from making a mistake.” More tears flood your shut eyes. 

“I just miss you…” Your palm digs into your eye, “and I wish you w-were here. I’m not…” Pickle climbs to rest in your lap; You always did that with your mom for comfort. Another loud sob. 

“I lov— “

You jolt at the loud dial tone, and the line ends. You drop your phone on your blanket and search around your room, the portrait of your mother standing tall on your desk. You need to make another one for her birthday. 

Your eyes travel over your space, and for the first time, you don’t feel comfort. Your mind is racing with thoughts that expose your truth; They’re vile and dirty and they make you feel like scum. A disease walking. 

The dark nights are restless and the days are silent, halls only filled with soft purrs and pattering paws. 

Your home no longer holds the joy that it once did when Amaya was here. Excitement used to burst through you whenever she prepped your movie nights after work, the living room filled with laughter and corny love lines that made your stomach secretly twist with warmth. 

You’re not happy anymore. Anxiety brews in you whenever you walk into the kitchen, the living room, go to feed and snuggle Pickle. It’s fucking miserable in here, and as difficult as it was for you to admit, it’s all your fault. 

It’s almost finals week, and you’re nowhere near prepared. You can’t focus on anything except the treacherous silence of your space. It’s almost like Ellie’s already gone. 

You should be anticipating her departure, antsy to have your space to yourself again, but your chest aches. This past month was anything but smooth, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. For some reason. Maybe it’s because you got to live your main character moment, even if it was just for a few hours.  

Ellie, as much as you hate to admit it, deserves better. Just like how you deserve to spend your life alone, trapped and secluded with your own thoughts. She should want better for herself; Nothing is worse than being in your presence; Maybe that’s why you have no one. 

You desperately want to do better for yourself, but you’re tired. Your mother would be so disappointed in you. You retire from wallowing and climb under the covers, Pickle clutched tightly to your chest. You hope she doesn’t mind the tears from your tee.  

The portfolio is finished. Ellie can’t stop staring at the booklet enclosed in leather on her desk. 

The online submission process was infuriating, mainly due to her laptop dying during the portfolio render, but it’s done. Her ticket into a life-changing position is no longer hers to judge; It can only go up from here. 

All she needs is that phone call from the recruiting manager and it’s over. She’ll be in the city in no time. She’s excited and jittery; Every buzz from her phone is met with clenched hands and a sweaty forehead. Her disappointment heals when she sees her father’s classic thumbs up emojis surrounded by black and red hearts; Even from miles away, he knows when she needs support. 

Ellie lays her forehead on the leather, sighing in relief for what seems like the billionth time. It’s a surreal feeling, relishing in accomplishments. She's never done it, mainly because her mother never wanted to acknowledge happenings she wasn’t the center of. Hearing congratulations is still a mindfuck years later. 

… Your photos looked stunning. You’re made for this, even if you don’t believe it. 

Ellie will never admit how much energy she put into editing those pictures, specifically the ones you’re in. She spent hours recoloring, scaling, sharpening those photos, and they turned out incredible. Probably some

of the best shots she’s ever taken, and you’re in the center. And your eyes… There’s so much light in those hazel specks. 

Another mindfuck. 

Whenever Ellie comes home, she checks the small space between the floor and door of your bedroom to see if you’re awake. If you’re alive. The relief she feels when she sees a lamp light or shadow eases the tension in her shoulders. 

She never knocks, though. Never. 

So why are you? 

Ellie’s back instantly straightens at the soft pats on her door, heart pounding in her ears. You never knock. 

She’s embarrassed at how fast she stands, chair nearly falling over as she flies to pull her door open. 

She’s met with you; She hopes you can’t hear the shatters from her chest at the sight of your disheveled appearance. Your hair is matted and the brunette river in your eyes are surrounded by redness

“Sorry, I—“ Your voice cracks like you haven’t spoken in ages, “She was lying there and I felt bad. She missed you, I think.” She’s never heard you sound so tedious. You’re always the loudest, goofiest person in the room. Ellie’s brows furrow before following your line of vision. Pickle’s sleep in front of her door, curled like a cinnamon roll. Ellie sighs as picks her up as fluidly

as she can, trying her best not to wake her. 

“You’re gonna have to take her when you leave.” 

Devastation sets in your tone as you stare at the little fur ball, “Why?” She asks. 

“My dad’s allergic.” You whisper.

Ellie peers down when Pickle stirs, “Is… is he visiting?” She asks, just as quietly. 

Your head shakes, “I’m going home.” 

Ellie does an impeccable job of hiding her shock. So many questions race in her mind: going home? Where’s home for you? Is it permanent? Are you moving out? When? Are you and your dad close? 

You’re turning away back into your room, but Ellie blurts out before you can shut the door. “I finished my portfolio! It’s… it’s done. I turned it in.” 

You turn, and your eyes are watery. Your smile is tiny, but genuine. “Congratulations,” you’re so quiet and your voice shakes. Ellie’s mind whirls, “They’re gonna love it.” You take one last look at Pickle, and your bottom lip wobbles. You shut and lock the door before Ellie can say thank you for helping me. 

Ellie’s eyes lock onto the floor, watching your lamp turn off, ears honing in on the shuffling of blankets. She swiftly scurries inside her space when she hears crying. 

Her chest concaves at the sobs echoing through the dark, silent halls. Through the thin wall as she sets the kitty on her favorite pillow to sleep on. She paces around her room and yanks at her pinky. How she wishes to be a fly on the wall; She wants to knock on your door so badly, but she doesn’t know what to say. How to comfort. She's always relied on her father for that. 

So, she just listens with regret and makes her final decision.

If you move from this counter, you’ll faceplant into hardwood. You don’t like the blaringly loud song coming from above, so you down another seltzer. It’s distracting enough. 

You feel yourself leaning forward, so you force yourself back up, practically flung over the counter. You’re never drinking again, you promise yourself. How many times has that one been broken? You don’t remember. You miss Ellie. 

You’re going to fall again, but this time, you’re supported. And not by the counter. You instantly relax at the familiar scent. 

Abby’s mumbling something about something, but it sounds like gibberish. You throw your arms around her neck, inhaling deeply; You miss Ellie terribly. 

We gotta get you outta here. You frown; You don’t want to leave! The party just started! 

Her strong arms wrap around your waist to maneuver you. You’re not sure where she's taking you, but you don’t fight. You simply allow her to snatch your heels off and carry you into the piercing-sharp cold. Just allow her to drag you to safety. You wish it was Ellie. 

The world around you moves in a blur; The pace is making you dizzy. You don’t want to vomit in Abby’s car. When did she get a car? 

“Abby…” 

“Yeah, hun? You good?” She sounds so far away. Your mumbles are incoherent. She's so confused, so she asks you to repeat it. 

You face her from the passenger seat with a sultry grin. You miss Ellie, “I missed you.” Your words are garbled and your hands are as loose as your tongue, shakily landing on her muscular thigh, massaging the skin. 

Abby tenses with a sigh, planting a gentle hand on your traveling one. Her grip tightens when you try to move. “Did you really?” 

That's your green light. Your smile grows as you clumsily unbuckle your seatbelt, “Stop… stop the car.” 

Abby’s foot plants on the break, and you jerk forward. Like the night you found Pickle. Like when Ellie… 

“What’s the matter?” 

I miss my roommate. “I’m horny.” 

Your friend scoffs and shakes her head. Either you’re too drunk or she’s disappointed… Not the reaction you were seeking. Your smile tries to fade, but you force the corners of your mouth back up. 

“No, you’re not.” She snaps, and it takes you a second to catch it. Abby’s upset again. What the fuck did you do this time? Your facade finally falters. Now you’re irritated. 

“How’re y… how’re you gonna tell me what the fuck I am?” You sound like a fucking idiot, but your rage ignites your slurs, “If you don’t want me, why’re you here!” 

“Because you fucking called and I’m your friend! I didn’t wanna leave you by yours— “

“You should’ve!” Your shriek is piercing; You’re shocked the windows didn’t shatter and slice you both. 

“That’s how you fucking feel? Really?” 

You try to swallow tears, but they flow. The words you want to say are on the tip of your tongue; Thank you for coming to get me. I’m sorry for being awful. Don’t leave me by myself. 

But none of them escaped. They sit and rot in your throat. You’ve never seen Abby so… 

And she doesn’t let up, “Now you wanna cry? Are you serious?” There’s fire in her eyes; It burns in a way you’re not used to, especially not her, “This victim shit is getting very old— “

“I don’t care!” 

“I don’t fucking care, either! If you wanna keep getting used like a piece of meat by random bitches, then do that! Leave me the fuck out of it!” Abby slams her hand down on the armrest, and the car doors unlock, “Matter of fact, get the fuck out!” 

“Fuck you!” 

“Fuck YOU! Get out! Get the fuck out!” 

Curses and heated exclamations leave the two of you until you wobbly exit the vehicle, slamming the door as hard as your brain would allow. The wind blows like tacks, stabbing through the skin of your bare arms and chest. Abby zooms off, and you scream. 

You dig in your pocket for your phone, ineptly dialing Ellie’s number. It’s fucking one in the morning

“… Hello?” She was asleep. Your heart eases at the steadiness of her tone. 

You’re shivering, “… E—Ellie?” 

“Hm?” 

“I’m… I’m really cold and I don’t,” sob, “I dunno where I am— “

“What do you mean?” She asks abruptly, alert. Your heart flutters. 

You whimper, “I’m lost, I don’t… I’m a bad person— “

“Send me your location. Where’re your keys?” 

“I— I don’t remember— “

“Are you drunk right now?” 

“Yes,” You mumble meekly. This is so fucking embarrassing. 

Ellie sighs heavily, “Just… Is there somewhere you can wait until I get there?” 

You search through tears, finding mostly dark retail stores and restaurants across the street… Except Jack in the Box! The munchies hotspot never fails you. 

“There’s a Jack in the Crack over there.” You point like she can see you. She snickers softly. 

“Go, then. I’ll be there soon, okay?” 

“Wait! Don’t… don’t hang up, please, I’m scared— “

“I wasn’t going to.” 

You closely listen to the shuffling on the other line as you wobbly trek across the street. You sharply inhale at every slip and stumble on your journey, almost sobbing through every confirmation to Ellie’s small are you okay? 

You finally make it inside and thank God that it’s warm. You take a seat and sigh at the familiar jingle of keys. 

“You in there?” 

“Mhm.” 

“I’m coming, send me where you are.” 

“K.” 

It takes you longer than it should’ve to get her the location thanks to the Casa in your system, but she’s on the way… You really want curly fries. Fuck. 

You hate how your thoughts wander, self-loathing at the forefront of your lobe. You take after your father more than you thought: a filthy, lying train wreck. You’ve ruined every glimmer of hope, of positive influence around you, and you’re forced to bathe in the treachery you’ve created all over again. 

“Hey.” 

You leap out of your seat at Ellie’s raspy tone, seeing your hoodie draped over her forearm and keys dangling in her hand. Your tummy growls when you wave. Ellie’s gaze softens. “Hungry?” She hands you the hoodie for you to throw on. You nod. 

“What do you wanna eat?” 

“… Fries,” you croak, “Curly, please.” 

Ellie nods and waddles to the service counter. You watch her backside under her puffer as she pays and collects a small baggie and water before nodding towards the car. You follow close behind her in silence, munching on your snack. 

The ride back home is silent, but for once, the air isn’t deadly. You’re eased back from your breakdown, and it’s definitely not due to the forest in your roommate’s vision. 

You enter your warm apartment and get greeted with soft purrs, Kit-Kat skipping over to rub against your leg. It’s almost enough to make you break down all over again; You can’t believe you have to say goodbye to her next week. 

You kick your sneakers off and squat down to her level, “I love you so much, baby girl. Thank you for taking care of me.” You whisper and pet her head, all the way down to her tail. She meows like she loves you. Ellie shuts the door and watches you silently. You turn to face her. For the first time, she doesn't fidget at your inspection.

Her eyes are much glossier and she’s picking at the skin on her pinky. She wants to say something. 

“You okay?” You murmur, and Ellie nods. You don’t believe her. Her eyes are downcast. Why does she look so nervous? 

The silence is killing you, so you speak. 

“Ellie, I’m… I’m sorry for everything,” You stand and ramble. “I’m the worst roommate imaginable and I-I’m terrible and impulsive and I fucking suck, but I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” 

I also kinda like you. 

Not even your word vomit lets that slip. So, you apologize, sloppily and snot-filled. Tears drip down your face in waterfalls, “I’m— I don't wanna go... and I don’t want you to go…”

Ellie’s timid facade breaks, only slightly, eyes closing gently as she listens. “I know I don’t deserve t-to ask that and it’s not… I wasn’t apart of your plan— “

“You’re drunk.” 

You’re plummeting into the void all over again, succumbing to a familiar, oddly comforting darkness. 

“H-Huh?” 

Ellie’s as firm as a tree, unmoving. Strong. Still. You’re transported back to your first conversation and how intimidated she made you feel. “You’re drunk… and I leave in the morning. I got the job.” 

Drowning. That’s what this feels like. Strangely proud. Oddly suffocating. You’re underwater, but refuse to resurface. “I-In the morning?” 

Her head jerks. “I, uh. I got rent covered. Sorry for the late notice.” She shoves her hands in her pocket. You shake your head, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “It’s okay.” You whisper. “Where’re you gonna go?” 

“My dad’s. He’s a few hours out. The truck comes tomorrow.” 

Your head bobs in acknowledgement, “H-How was the stats final?” She pauses; Her eyes sadden, tilting like an unwatered rose. “You’ll do fine.” She whispers. 

“Promise to take care of my daughter?” You blurt between sniffles, already moving down the hall, ignoring the loud shattering in your heart when you peep all her boxes in the now vacant room beside yours. 

Ellie mumbles your name but you’re sick of ugly crying in front of people. “Good luck with everything.” You mutter with hot feet.

And with the last click of your bedroom lock, you shut out the vine who entangled your heart for the last time. You give into the feelings of loss, the emotions that come with failure, and release them into your hands. 

What could’ve been, your brain hollers while your heart wails. What could’ve been if you weren’t you. 

You don’t remember waking up, but you’re in pain. Physically, mentally; You're hurting. The intensity of it somehow gets worse at the sound of Ellie dragging boxes out of her — the room. 

You just cry. There’s nothing to do but cry. Your phone has been ringing all morning, but you don’t have strength to reach for it. You relish in the deserving pain of your hangover. Tequila hasn’t done shit for you. 

Hours pass, and your home is silent. Ellie’s gone. Pickle’s gone. Amaya’s gone. Abby’s gone. Your mother’s gone. You take their departures as signs. It’s probably time for you to go, too. 

Your shower is incredibly long. You wash and wash and re-wash, wanting the feelings of cleanliness to cascade down your skin, but it never comes. You tearfully accept your lecherous nature and every vile entity attached to it. You’re a vessel for heartbreak and villainy. Forever your worst enemy. You look in the mirror for the first time in days. Just for a second. You can’t stand to see yourself for longer than that, your naked form a reminder of every violation you’ve had to endure since you were fifteen. 

Ellie isn't thinking twice about you, and yet, she terrorizes your mind, trying to convince yourself that your time together wasn’t all bad. You’ll never forget the color she brought to you. Her seed is forever planted and growing in your heart, her roots forcing their way into your system, intertwining with your rough, cracked bones, enclosing around your lungs with each breath. 

Too bad you impacted her in the worst way. You couldn’t even manage to give her a sober apology before she left. It’s hard to accept the fact that you’ll never see her again, but there’s nothing you can do about it now. 

Once again, you’re too late. 

The short lap around your living room crushes your spirit. Somehow, all of your memories are shrouded in emptiness. All the proof of Ellie’s residency is gone… Except the indent of her body on the couch. She always loved sleeping there.

One last heavy exhale. That’s all you can manage before you grab your coat and beanie and exit, locking the door behind you. You keep your head down on the way to the parking garage, hopping into the driver’s seat. The ride to the academic advisory office is silent and swift; It matches the finality of your meeting. 

Tears glaze your eyes when you ask your counselor, “What’s… What’s the first step of withdrawing? Like, from school.” 

-

-

-

CHRISTMAS EVE 

Your fork picks at the pasta noodles on your barely touched plate. The wine is delicious. 

“Honey, are you…” Your dad says softly before sighing, “How’s the meal?” You blink up at him, focusing on the crinkles in his eyes. He seems youthful somehow. Healing looks good on him. 

You gulp down more maroon, “… It’s great. Thank you.” You mutter. You’re not used to talking to him; You’re glad the feelings are mutual. He only nods, head downcast onto his plate. At least he’s eaten. 

He sets his fork down on his plate and wipes his mouth with a napkin, “I hope you like your gift.” He says before standing to place the dish in the sink.

A dark smile spreads behind your glass. 

“Never thought you’d buy me anything.” You snicker sarcastically. “Don’t start.” His voice slices through the kitchen. You hold back your flinch. You’re not ten anymore. 

You shrug, shoulders heavy, “Just saying.” A glass shatters in the sink, and he curses and storms off, the bedroom door nearly swinging off the hinges with a slam. Your smile grows at the booming echo. Like father, like daughter you suppose. 

-

-

-

DECEMBER TWENTY-SEVENTH 

“Are you ready, kiddo?” 

Ellie’s heart is pounding through her chest as she stares out the window. She can’t believe her father hasn’t commented on the bursting organ. “No.” She whispers, adjusting the camera strapped around her neck. She's fighting not to bite her nails; Her dad hates that. 

He chuckles softly, “Yes, you are.” 

No, she’s not. 

The photography studio is fucking huge and surrounded by tall windows that display suited individuals laughing, conversing, perfecting their lenses. She can see the bright specks of neon color on the white floors, white walls, white couches. It’s so much brighter than she ever imagined.

The colors are reminiscent of you. Vivid. Captivating. Beaming like your smile. There are flashes coming from all directions inside the studio and it’s making her shake in the passenger seat. A strong hand plants on her blazer, giving an encouraging squeeze. “Look at me.” 

Ellie’s head turns, eyes locking with her dad’s. 

“I love you. You got this.” He says with confidence. Ellie nods in agreement, but he doesn’t accept it. “Say it.” 

“I got this.” Not as confident. A lot quieter, but getting there. 

“Eh?” Her dad leans in closer, ear pointed at her. She giggles and repeats herself. A little louder. He decides that it’s good enough, pulling her close over the center console. Ellie inhales as deeply as she can, right in the crook of his neck. He plants one last kiss on her cheek before releasing her. She grabs her bag from the floor and pushes the door open, looking over her shoulder one last time. “I love you.” She whispers. He bops her nose with the most delicate grin. Pride is radiating off him, and it warms her from the cold outside. 

Ellie departs with one last wave, shutting the door and skipping onto the sidewalk, walking right up to the front door of the studio. A final peek at her dad; He sends her two thumbs up. She smiles. 

Breathe in, one… two… three… 

When the door pushes open, she's greeted with wide grins and warm hugs. It feels like home already.

Finally... Finally.

BIG ASS TAGLIST LOOOOOL LOVE YALL: @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane@muthafuckingstargirl @mina-281 @yuckyfucky @aimformyheartt @elstoy @skylerwhitwyo @sawaagyapong @nil-eena @dewylittlestars @sakiigami @feelsoseencantdream @ellieslittlegf@fictionalgap @liabadoobee @whooknooows @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @qtgaslighter @p4ison1vy @eviestevie-14 @weaselot @elliewbbg @elsmissingfingers @lmaoo-spiderman @lyssaspengler @elliewilliamsmunch @gummydummykj @kiwikeysblog @juniorsfav @louleele @alittlextrahoney @tohoko@333-starhotline @girlkissersco @saplingkoi @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @elliew-illiamsmissingfingers @diddiqueen @alexisvs-world @mostlyhornyandsad @lolaaa699999 @elsblunt @niyahlovesu @randomhoex @sunnmoon @elliesaesp @callmewhenyoukan @rubycruzsbitch @deathby1000sluts @skylerwhitwyo

[sunniques]

hey gorg, morning<3

Had this thought and I think you can match my freak and maybe add a little to my delulu or like give me a prompt? I am a sucker of how u write, love your blog so much hehe. So, can you picture stepbro Mingyu and stepbro Wonwoo. Both of them bulky af, since the first moment their dad introduced them to you and your mom they’d be picturing and having the nastiest and sluttiest thoughts, corruption kink, size kink. Even breeding kink with the most dirty talk. Like, the most horny and indecent scenes and scenarios, from the first time your mom and their dad let you with them to get to know better, on your parents wedding and almost everytime they have the chance after that, fucking you senseless and teasing you about being caught and fucking you on the most inappropriate moments when you are at a 99% risk of getting caught. And if we get even nastier, Dad (not quite sure who dad could be) caughts them once and ends up joining…

If it’s too much that’s okay though, you don’t need to answer this. I think ‘m ovulating 😭

Btw, Can I be anon 🦊? Have a good day!

of course i’m going to match your freak that’s what i’m here for! this concept is to die for and maaan do i have thoughts 👀 that emoji is all yours 🩷

Picturing brothers Mingyu and Wonwoo just sharing a look after they meet you because they know you’re going to be their new little fucktoy. So, Mingyu gets you first because Wonwoo has a soft spot for his little brother, and Mingyu is a little less intimidating than he is. You get so caught up in Mingyu’s charms that you don’t feel guilty when you two share a kiss.

Until Wonwoo catches you two that is.

You get so shy and feel so dirty because that’s what Wonwoo calls you. A dirty girl. It’s sick because that sends a tingle to your pussy. What you don’t expect is for Wonwoo to give you a messy kiss of his own. That night the brothers share you, Wonwoo gets your pussy while Mingyu gets your mouth. Then they switch off, telling you how they’re going to stretch out your tiny little holes and breed them all night.

You love it. So fucking much.

Of course this leads to you fucking even when your parents are in the house. Mingyu always fingers you at the dinner table, and Wonwoo always fucks you in the shower in the bathroom that’s right down the hall from your parents’ bedroom. They’re both so nasty, always fucking you dumb when your parents say they’re on the way home.

“Hurry up and make us cum, sweetheart,” Wonwoo groans as he rams his cock into your ass. “Don’t want mommy and daddy to see you stuffed full of cock do you?”

You’re so corrupted and nasty at this point you moan that you don’t care if they do. Mingyu grins into your neck as you cream all over his cock. You hot cunt is so tight that he spills his cum into you before sloppily fucking it into you.

This is a constant cycle until one day you actually to get caught. Your mom is going on a business trip so your stepdad drives her to the airport. Obviously, minwon sees this as another opportunity to fuck you senseless. This time, they don’t count on their dad to actually make it back on time.

Your stepbrothers don’t stop using their holes once they see their dad standing at the doorway of their shared room. Seungcheol’s cock is hard, watching his cute little stepdaughter getting used like she’s nothing but a filthy cum slut.

“What’s going on?” He asks calmly, cock twitching when his sons finally pull out and your pretty holes leak with cum.

“Want a taste, dad?” Wonwoo grins deviously, knowing the answer.

That’s how you end up bouncing on your stepdad’s cock as your stepbrothers watch. Seungcheol is even rougher than his sons, and as he spears you open on his big cock, you can’t help but think the apples don’t fall far from the tree.

[tuerescringe]

Shaw Pack Headcanons:

(inspired by my friends! yet again!)

- Whenever Asher dies in a game due to lack of trying, he describes it as “playing with my meat out.” It’s terrible and instantly kills everyone in vicinity.

- Asher calls everyone but David a variation of “little bro.” David is instead given the wonderful title of “Big Dog.” He hates it.

- Angel plays Fortnite with Asher. Which sucks because they play on switch and it’s the worst possible way to play it. They refuse to touch the console simply because they are lazy.

- Baabe is a Glee enjoyer.

- Sweetheart has been begging everyone to play Lethal Company together because they find it absolutely hilarious.

- Milo is surprisingly not as adverse to the idea. He thinks the tiktoks that SH sends him of it are pretty funny. Actually playing it is horrifying though. He stays in the ship.

- David kinda adores Lethal Company.

- David tries to backseat whenever Angel plays a game that he likes.

- Whenever Darlin is gamer raging/jokingly insulting Asher, he responds with something like “You’re my friend and I care about you so much :) Did you know :)” It shuts Darlin up.

- Sam and David always take the lead when playing multiplayer horror games.

- Angel fucks with Roblox heavy. David absolutely does not get it.

- Asher does though.

- Milo had a soft spot for terrible medical dramas. His favorite is Grey’s Anatomy.

- Sweetheart watches it too but they get so stressed over the workplace atmosphere.

- David is a 60’s-70’s era anime enjoyer.

- Darlin’s top used emoji is the middle finger.

- Milo and Darlin are the same level of pussy when it comes to horror.

- Angel describes things as “yucky disgusting.”

- Sam and Baabe like playing chess together.

- Darlin constantly debates others on whether it not they could beat their faves in a fight.

- They are adamant on the idea that they could solo Gojo.

- Asher and Angel greet each other by going “Hey buddy!” in a strange little nerd voice.

- They all have little beaded bracelets. Angel got them for everyone during a trip to their hometown.

- Whenever David is explicitly affectionate towards someone besides Angel, they feel strangely frightened.

- Asher sends everyone slop content tiktoks and thinks they’re the funniest shit ever.

- His favorite currently is a clip of a Flash villain saying “and now I am the ruler of gorilla city and all of the gorillas will follow me.”

- Whenever someone says something mildly upsetting in the gc, Sam replies with “Jesus wept.”

- Sam’s top used emoji is “😕”

- Whenever someone says something stupid, or unfunny, Milo responds with “That sucks, by the way.” It immediately makes the recipient rethink their life choices.

[4ddi3addie2005]

THE NEW CHAPTER IS SO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVGDFCHBVKDSVBKHFBJLSVBJLSSJLVBSLJBVLS🦅🦅🦅🦅💥💥💥💥 GOOD FKN SOUP IM DEVOURING IT RN it might be my fav chapter thus far........It has elements of The horrors tm and scenes that make me kick my feet in delight GODDDDDD🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 AAAAnd as usual I have some new silly doodles that I've got (Sadly I cant draw fast enough to finish my fan art for this chapter BUTIMWORKINGONSMT). I do have the RGB reader designs that I mainly use so that other fans could (maybe....just maybe...) mold their reader/player into whatever they want but I DO have a design that caters to my fav design tropes...

ALSOALSO- I've got a folder righttt 👉here where I'll compile some more sketches (and the animation with the right sync good gracious me-) so that I dont BOMBARD you with 50plus images.

the last "AGAIN"- THE CHAPTER WAS SO SCRUMPTIOSSSSSSS- KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you I'm so glad you love it!! 🦅💥 (Nonsense emojis are becoming a habit I have to stoppp...)

It's so funny you said that cuz I have a Doc called "kicking my feet blushing giggleinf" that I use to jot down the "fluffy" moments when the inspiration worms hit x0

And take your time with the art gurl!! What you've already done is amazing!! The most important thing is that it's fun and engaging for you,, no pressure 🫶

Those RGB designs are a banger btw they have so much personality!! I forgot to mention I loved the color scheme of your animation. I'm a sucker for some super saturated RGB...

OKAY now I'm gonna gush abt your art >:o] I love your insert she's too spunky!! She looks so done w him LOL. Also your style is delightful and fun!! I love your habit of drawing ppl with tired eyes and no mouth. It speaks to me.

The “You look lonely” piece is gorgeous btw :) He’s so shinyyy,, Insert looks tireddd. I know it’s the meme format or whatevah but I would be too.

I hope you don’t mind me sharing screenshots? Just let me know :o) I’m abt to holler abt some sketches.

THESE!! These made me so soft oml. I know in my heart he feels like a Squishmallow or whatever those fat chibi stuffed animals are.

DRIP KINITO 🔥🔥🔥 I giggled. Also baseball Kinito is canon now. To me. I just KNOW he picks up random human sports and tries his darndest to play them with only two people. (Reader cheering him on and also looking thoroughly depressed is so real LMAO)

I think that's all I have in my heart for now... TY for this plethora of art you went above and beyond <3

BTW I’m gonna provide a pic of the players here for easy viewing cuz they’re cool as freak 💯🐊

EDIT: I am so glad!! You love my fic!! I heart U!!

[bunnysnuff]

Poly!Nick & Charlie with a Clingy!Partner Headcannon.

Pairing: Charlie Spring x reader x Nick Nelson.

Tw- none! I don’t a gender neutral reader (but it is m!reader), cringey use of nicknames, Poly relationships, use of Y/N because I got carried away and was too lazy to type ‘you’.

Request.

Poly! Nick and Charlie with Clingy Y/N Headcanons:

Constant Cuddles: you’re always seeking physical affection, and Nick and Charlie are more than happy to provide. Whether it’s snuggling up on the couch or holding hands while walking through the park, youre always attached to one or both of them.

Charlie: He’s more reserved but absolutely adores how clingy you are. It helps ground him, and it’s a nice reminder that you is there when he’s feeling anxious. He might blush at public displays of affection but never pulls away.

Nick: He’s a total softie, and he loves it when Y/N throws themselves into his arms. He’ll often tease them playfully, calling them “my little koala,” because Y/N clings to him so often.

Group Hugs: Nick and Charlie are used to Y/N initiating group hugs at random times. Whether it’s after a stressful day or just a moment of happiness, Y/N will wrap their arms around both Nick and Charlie, pulling them into the most comforting sandwich of affection.

If Nick and Charlie are cuddling, Y/N will immediately join, squishing themselves between them or lying across their laps.

Texts and Check-Ins: Y/N sends constant cute texts to both Nick and Charlie throughout the day, just to let them know they’re thinking about them.

Nick responds with heart emojis and always sends something sweet back.

Charlie will sometimes get flustered but replies with something heartfelt, even if he’s shy about it.

Protective and Reassuring: While Y/N can be clingy, they sometimes worry they’re being too much, but Nick and Charlie are quick to reassure them.

Nick is always verbally comforting, telling Y/N how much he loves how affectionate they are.

Charlie reassures them with quiet, gentle touches and soft kisses, showing them without words that they’re never a burden.

Jealousy, but in a Cute Way: Y/N gets a little jealous when Nick and Charlie are spending time together without them, but it’s never serious. They’ll just pout a little until they’re pulled into whatever Nick and Charlie are doing, reminding them that they’re equally loved.

Nick and Charlie think it’s adorable when Y/N gets pouty and will make extra efforts to shower them with affection afterward, ensuring Y/N never feels left out.

Nick Being the Middle Ground: Nick is often the one who helps balance things out when Y/N’s clinginess is a bit overwhelming for Charlie, especially if Charlie is having a bad mental health day.

Nick will pull Y/N into a bear hug while also holding Charlie’s hand, making sure everyone feels connected and comforted in their own way.

Late-Night Talks: Y/N loves to keep Nick and Charlie awake at night with deep conversations, pulling them into pillow forts or nestling between them in bed. Nick is usually up for it, happily talking about anything and everything, while Charlie listens quietly, chiming in when he feels like it.

Cute Nicknames: Y/N comes up with the cutest (and cheesiest) pet names for Nick and Charlie.

For Nick: "Nicky Bear" or "Pooh bear.”

For Charlie: "Char" or "pickle.”

Nick will grin every time Y/N uses them, and Charlie will blush but secretly love it.

Always Holding Hands: Y/N has a habit of holding both Nick’s and Charlie’s hands whenever they’re walking anywhere, even if it’s just a short trip to the store. They love being physically connected at all times.

Sometimes Nick or Charlie will tease Y/N by letting go just to see their reaction, but they always grab Y/N’s hand again, laughing at how cute Y/N is when they scramble to reconnect.

Helping with Anxiety: Y/N’s clinginess helps both Nick and Charlie when they’re feeling anxious.

For Nick, Y/N’s constant presence helps him stay grounded, especially when he’s feeling unsure or insecure.

For Charlie, Y/N is a calming influence, their affection reminding him that he’s loved no matter what.

Nick and Charlie absolutely adore how affectionate and clingy Y/N is, seeing it as a beautiful way that Y/N shows their love for them both. The trio is a perfect balance, with each person bringing something unique and cherished to the relationship.

[jagibee]

Call Me Luna

(Stray Kids x Reader)

Chapter 8

5,994 Words

A/N: A bit of a longer chapter as an apology for taking so long but also bc it was originally supposed to be two chapters and I just couldn’t find a good split point😭, and I did change the story title bc I got bored with Stray Pack but this is the same story and plot, and I’m sorry but my taglist is at its limit (which I didn’t even know existed?) so if I didn’t tag you on this post, it will be on the reblog!

Also, Happy Birthday to the love of my life who isn’t in this chapter nearly enough, but will be in the next chapter. Bang Chan, you have brought me a light and inspiration that I haven’t felt in a very long time and even if you have no idea who I am, you will always be the one for me🖤

Also

Nobody:

Me with the foreshadowing in this chap:

Let’s get started!

TW: references to sex, mentions of spanking (not necessarily sexual but could be interpreted that way)

…

You all settled down so that they could get through recording. Felix was sandwiched between you and Hyunjin, just as a small precaution in order to prevent any more growling. On your other side was Jisung and Seungmin sat on Hyunjin’s other side, providing extra padding against alphas. Chan and Changbin were both at the sound table and Minho was currently being recorded, so you didn’t have to worry much about them getting too close anyway, at least, not at this exact moment. Jeongin himself was settled at Felix’s feet like a trusty guard dog.

You, Chan, and Felix had all taken off your scent blockers as well, which helped to calm Innie down.

Minho was the last one recording, so everyone was a bit subdued. Changbin had paced around a bit while being sure to keep enough space between him and Jeongin. When the youngest alpha had recorded, everyone in the room held their collective breath, but he seemed to be doing fine.

Next to you, Jisung had leaned down so he was laying down on the couch with his feet splayed out in front of him, body posture indicating that he was zoning out, but one look at his eyes told you that he was paying rapt attention to what was happening in the recording box and at the table.

On your other side, Felix leaned his head against you and pulled out his phone instead of watching the older boys.

He pulled up Twitter and started scrolling through. You wanted to give him some privacy, but curiosity got the best of you. It’s not like he’s actively turning his phone away, you told yourself.

Once the word ‘caretaker’ caught your eye, you gave up the pretense and shifted even closer. The movement caused Felix to notice and he tilted his phone so you could see it more easily. “They’re sort of all over the place with the caretaker news.” He told you, deep voice soft as he tried to not interrupt the others. “Some people are really supportive of it but of course there are some people who think that either caretakers are sasaengs who manipulated the system so that you could be close to us, or that you’re going to steal our attention away from our fans.”

“Both of those statements are true, also, did I forget to mention I’m a spy from Dispatch meant to expose your secrets?”

Felix giggled and you let your eyes scan over the comments.

Maybe if y’all stanned TXT this wouldn’t have happened🤷‍♀️

tell this random weirdo to stay away from my lixie!!!!!!!

YALL IVE CONNECTED THE DOTS THE CARETAKER IS THE ONE IN FELIX’S BUBBLE POST

Reading over the last one, you bumped your shoulder lightly against Felix. “What exactly did your bubble post say?”

He frowned. “It just said ‘lunch with a new friend’ with a yellow heart emoji. It’s kind of impressive that they did actually connect the dots.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “Well, at least people probably won’t recognize me out on the street just from my hand.”

Felix smiled and went back to scrolling, giggling at a semi-professional debate about what Lee Know would give up for the rest of his life between pudding or butt hunting.

Said pudding lover and butt hunter then finished recording, striding out of the recording box as Chan spun his chair to face the rest of the room. Changbin rolled his own chair across the floor until it stopped in front of Minho, who grabbed it and spun it so he could sit in Changbin’s lap. Changbin squeaked in surprise but didn’t make any signs of protest when Minho brought the younger’s arms to wrap around his waist.

“Alright,” Chan began, “I think it’s pretty much a free day from here on. I know Jisung has a vocal lesson and Hyune wants to talk to Y/N, but other than that, I’ll be in the studio and Minho is going to be going over choreography so if anyone wants to join either of us, feel free.”

“But not too free, I need a break from you degenerates sometimes.” Minho retorted from where his head lay against Changbin’s shoulder.

You missed what Chan said in response as you leaned across the back of the couch behind Felix to consult Hyunjin. “You wanted to talk to me?”

His wide eyes met yours then quickly moved to Felix’s hair as Hyunjin started twirling it nervously between his fingers. “Yeah. Chan-hyung said we should talk about my h-heat. Especially since it comes so quick after Felix’s that we might not have enough time between our heats to properly talk.”

You could hear the other members join Chan and Minho’s discussion, but your focus remained on Hyunjin. “That’s a good idea,” you murmured, “But you don’t want Chan or another member to sit in with us?”

He shook his head, glancing back at you and biting his lip. You didn’t want to push him when he was so clearly nervous so you nodded and turned back to the others.

Right next to you, Jisung was declaring that “this group is not a democracy, hyung”.

“Sungie, you are the one person in this room that has a strict schedule today.”

“Don’t you start with me, Kim Seungmin-”

“Okay, okay!” Chan raised his hands. “I think that’s enough. So, Han will go to his lesson, Jinnie and Y/N will talk, Seungmin and Felix will come to the studio with me, and Bin and Iyen will go with Lino to the dance studio. Wait.” He paused and turned to you. “Is it okay to have Innie with the two members he’ll be aggressive towards?”

You considered it for a moment. “I think it should be fine. It might actually be better, hypothetically, since Innie won’t have to deal with either of them getting too close to Felix, so I think he’ll actually be less aggressive.”

“If my aegi-alpha gets too aggressive, I’ll just give him a good spanking.”

Chan turned to Minho and stared at him, narrowing his eyes while his knuckles turned white from his grip on his chair arms.

Instead of retracting his statement or apologizing for it, Minho simply basked in the attention, leaning back against Changbin and crossing his arms with a smirk on his face.

You glanced at Jeongin to see his reaction, but he was a bit preoccupied with Felix’s fingers running through his hair. Innie’s eyes were shut as he leaned his head back in between Felix’s knees.

You felt like you were intruding on a special moment, so you looked up and your gaze met Chan’s. He had a soft smile as he glanced from you to the two boys.

He blinked as if coming out of a trance and cleared his throat. “So, everyone know where they’re going?”

“Wait, hyung!” Jisung’s hand shot up in the air like he was a student eager to be called on. “I know you told us that we can be comfortable around Y/N-noona, but exactly how comfortable is that? Like, is it the same level as we are with our managers, or our makeup noonas or what?”

Chan smiled at him and swiveled his chair to face him more directly. “Since Y/N’s job actually involves a little more… familiarity with our group, especially when it comes to our emotional and physical health, I figured that we could be a little more open with her. She knows about our relationship and everything. The company did ridiculously thorough background checks and she’s signed several NDAs, so we can be as honest with her as we want.”

Han scooted forwards until he was barely on the couch and gestured with his hand for Chan to come closer. When Chan rolled his chair over, Jisung leaned to whisper in his ear. Whatever he said caused Chan to giggle. “Yes, we can kiss in front of her.”

“Oh.” Jisung blinked twice. “Well, in that case…” He grabbed Chan’s collar, pulled him close, and planted an obnoxious, cartoon-level, lip-smacking kiss right on the alpha’s lips.

Chan sputtered and his ears burned as he pulled away. “I meant- why did- you didn’t have to kiss me now!”

“Nope.” Jisung wiped his mouth with the back of his hand theatrically. “But I enjoyed it.”

…

Once everyone had reapplied their scent blockers and straightened themselves up, you followed Hyunjin out of the recording room.

Instead of going to the small meeting room like you did with Chan and Felix, Hyunjin led you in the opposite direction you had come from.

He fidgeted with his hands as he walked you rode down the elevator. First, they fiddled with his jacket buttons, then his rings, then tapped against his thighs.

It was obvious he was nervous, but you didn’t want to make him even more so by pointing it out.

The two of you made your way into a room and you realized that it was the same small dance studio you had met Hyunjin in.

He stopped in the middle of the room and frowned at the wooden crates you had all sat on last time. “I guess we could move them so we sit across from each other, that seems the most professional,” he murmured while rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb.

Your mind blanked for a second before you refocused. “Well, this doesn’t have to be super professional. No one is grading you,” you joked. “Here, we can even chill on the floor if you want.” You brought some cushions from a stack in the corner of the room and brought them to the middle of the crates.

Hyunjin smiled at you and adjusted one of the cushions before sitting down on it.

You placed your own cushion on the ground across from him and pulled one of the crates over so you could use it as a back rest.

You sank down and Hyunjin smiled at you politely. “Where should we start, noona?”

You pulled your bag over and pulled out the file on him and his bandmates. Handing it over, you told him, “What Felix and I started with was going over the information the company gave me so that you know what I know and you can tell me if there’s anything wrong or anything big that the company doesn’t know or didn’t share with me. I don’t want to be overly nosy or creepy or anything, but as a caretaker, it’s important that I know things that relate to both your physical and mental health. Also, client confidentiality applies in my job, so I couldn’t tell your company anything even if I wanted to, unless it involves you hurting yourself or others.”

Hyunjin blinked at you wide-eyed, the file bending slightly in his tight grip. Then, his eyes narrowed and his lips pouted slightly.

You felt your own fists clenching around the straps of your bag at the sight, but you collected yourself when he started to speak.

“I thought you were hired by the company. Doesn’t that make them your client?”

Your smile widened at him. “What a smart question!” At this, you could see the corners of his mouth flicker up. “The company is my employer, but they hired me to be a caretaker for you, not for the company. If I had to be a caretaker for everyone in this entire company, I would scream.” You raised your eyebrows playfully. “Could you imagine if I went up to JYP and asked him to tell me about his sex life?” You shuddered theatrically.

Hyunjin let out a startled exhale which quickly morphed into full-on cackling. He threw his head back and clapped, leaning backwards and almost falling over which only caused him to laugh harder. You giggled along with him, relieved that the slight tension was dissolving.

Once you two managed to mostly calm down, he looked at you with his hand hovering in front of his mouth. “Oh my god. “‘“Oh my god”’”. Eugh!” He scrunched up his face and stuck his tongue out in disgust, which just set off another round of laughter for both of you.

You took some deep breaths and noticed Hyunjin doing the same. You both smiled at each other and he ducked his head as he went to pick up the file he had dropped when he started clapping.

He flipped through it and got to the page with his information. As his eyes scanned the page, his smile slowly faded.

“Not particularly possessive of my nests? The only reason I’m not possessive is because they’re my pack! My m- my band! They’re always welcome in my nests! I may not be as protective as Felix but it’s not like I would let just anyone in!”

Noticing his distress, but most notably, the lack of a distressed scent, you realized that you both still had your scent blockers on. You took yours off and allowed your calming scent to sweep the room. It wouldn’t be as potent to Hyunjin while he had his own scent blockers on, but you hoped he could sense it nonetheless.

You didn’t want to touch him without his consent, so you gently pushed the file down, away from where it covered his face, gaining his attention and making it easier for him to see you.

You smiled at him. “Hey, Hyunjin. You want to take a deep breath for me?”

He blinked at you twice before nodding and inhaling. He held it for a second before his cheeks puffed out as he exhaled.

“Good job! Now, I know that you’re probably upset since the company is making these assumptions about you based on limited information. I would be, too. But, since you aren’t exactly inviting your managers into your nests, does it really matter what they think about you?”

His eyebrows furrowed as he considered it. After a minute, he shook his head.

“No, it doesn’t matter. And the ones whose opinions you do care about know that you keep the nest open to them because you trust them and love them. I promise you, they don’t think any lesser of you because of the way you keep your nests.”

Hyunjin’s tense eyes softened around the edges. “I guess… that makes sense.”

Your voice took on a more teasing tone. “Do you not believe me? I could call Chan right now, and I’m certain that he would march on down from his studio just to tell you how wonderful your nests are. And I’m certain that your other packmates would be right behind him.”

Hyunjin smiled shyly as he traced a shape on the ground that vaguely resembled a heart. “Yeah, they would.”

You tapped on the file still in his other hand. “Now that that’s settled, is there anything else you want to tell me?”

Hyunjin put the file down on the floor and rested his hands on top of it, like he was trying to press it into the ground. He turned his head to look at the wall of mirrors next to you and you could see him swallow. His eyes flickered back to meet yours and you could see the pure vulnerability in them. “Since you’ve been so upfront and honest with all of us, I figure I should return the favor. I… In Korea, male omegas- or, just, omegas in general, I guess, are sort of taught to hide their heats? Or, not hide them exactly, but it’s not something you really talk about? Not even with other omegas. We’re pretty much taught that heats are signs of weakness or that they’re gross to talk about, so you sort of pretend that they don’t exist, even when we would get a week off of school or work.”

He paused to look down at his hands and you waited while he took a second.

“When Felix first came over, obviously there were a lot of cultural differences between Australia and Korea. He would casually mention how he was nervous about spending his heats here. Channie-hyung and Minho-hyung helped him the most, not just because they’re the oldest, but because Chan could sympathize with the change in culture and Minho… had a lot of omegan friends back in Gimpo when he was growing up. Even when Felix got used to spending his heats here, he still never really stopped talking about them. Of course he didn’t say anything when we went out in public or anything like that, but he never tried to hide it around us.” Hyunjin’s mouth curled up at the corners. “There was this one time when we were in the dressing room and he was complaining about his pre-heat cramps loud enough for all of the staff to hear. Changbinnie-hyung’s face was so red,” he snickered.

Suddenly, his face sobered up. “I really wish I had been there for him more. As the other omega in our pack, it should have been me, but at that moment, I just felt… all I felt was shame. Shame for him, for letting other people know that he had heats, shame for me, for being the other omega and being afraid that people would think that I would talk about my heat in the same way, shame for the poor staff members who had to listen to that,” Hyunjin took a deep breath. “But then, one of the coordi-noonas came up and recommended a good painkiller brand, and one of our managers told Felix that they could buy some ice cream on the way home, and I… I was so amazed. Talking about anything related to heats was supposed to be this horrible, embarrassing thing, but instead, Felix just got sympathy and support.”

Hyunjin looked back up at you and stared deep into your eyes. “I know that I don’t like to talk about my heats, even after seeing that and being with Felix all this time, but I know that you’re here to help me and my pack, so I’m going to do my best to not be ashamed anymore.”

You took Hyunjin’s hands in yours. “Thank you so much for telling me. I really-”

You were suddenly interrupted by his stomach doing its best impression of a whale song. His eyes widened before he hid his face in his hands. “Talk about embarrassing and shameful. I guess we forgot to eat lunch.”

You cackled and stroked his shoulder in what you hoped was a soothing way. “Well,” you giggled, “should we get some now? I’m pretty hungry, too, now that you mention it.”

Hyunjin’s hands slid from his face as he looked back up at you. “Hmm. I’m kind of craving something sweet.” He turned until he was lying on the floor with his face turned towards the ceiling.

As you scooted over to lay down beside him, he sat up and stared at you with his eyes lit up. “I have a genius idea! Have you tried any good Korean snacks since you moved here, noona?”

You thought back to everything that happened since you got off the plane. “Uh… not really? There were some chips or something in the hotel room but I didn’t want to spend the company money on ridiculous stuff like that.”

Hyunjin waved his hand dismissively. “Even if you did eat them, it wouldn’t really count. Expensive places always overcharge for mediocre things.” He set his hand back on the floor and turned back to you. “Do you know what this means?”

“That I need to order more of my own snacks from home before I run out?”

“No!” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, but you could see a hint of mirth in them. “Well, yes, noona, you should definitely do that. And order some for us to try. But we should raid the vending machine and have a taste testing! I even stole Binnie-hyung’s credit card this morning, so we can use that!”

You giggled at his enthusiasm for both having a taste testing and using his member’s money to pay for it. “I’m up for it if you are, but if Changbin finds out, I’m pinning everything on you. He’ll probably go easy on you, anyway.”

Hyunjin shrugged, his expression somewhere between fond and smug. “Yeah, he’ll definitely go easy on me. Especially when I tell him our pretty noona coerced me into it. He’ll understand. How am I supposed to say no to that? Anyway, we could also get some snacks to drop off at the dance studio after we’re done with our taste test, I’m sure that Changbin-hyung and Innie would be glad for a snack break.”

“I- okay.” You stuttered, trying not to fixate on the phrase “our pretty noona”. “Let’s do a taste testing. Lead the way to the vending machines.”

After reapplying your scent blocker, you both made your way down two flights of stairs and down a long hallway before you came to the vending machine. Hyunjin explained that there was one closer to the room you were in, but that this one had better snacks.

You stopped in front of the vending machine, a little surprised at how high tech it looked. You were more used to ones with sticky buttons that refused to take your dollars more often than not and that you would occasionally have to shake to free your snack. This one had a whole mini snack elevator.

“Let’s see, Innie likes these cheesy crackers, Changbin-hyung will cry if he finds out we used his credit card and didn’t get him anything, so let’s get him the barbecue chips, and this is Lino-hyung’s favorite pudding…”

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you watched Hyunjin mutter to himself about his bandmates’ snack preferences. “You’re so considerate of your packmates,” you told him.

He blinked at you in surprise, like he had forgotten you were standing there with him. “Ah, well, it’s really more of a survival tactic. I have had one too many pudding lectures from hyung, so if I show up with the wrong one, who knows what he’ll do to me?”

Back in the studio, you spread your bounty around the two of you, like you were preparing for hibernation. The three snacks for the boys in the other dance studio were carefully set off to the side, so that neither of you would mistakenly eat them.

“So,” you started, “I know the nest thing sort of threw you off, but is there anything else you think I should know before your heat? It can be anything, things you like to avoid, your favorite things to nest with, things you like to eat,” you asked, shaking the bag of chips you were currently eating from. They were a bit different than what you were used to, but still pretty good.

Hyunjin hummed around a ring-shaped gummy. “Well, I like to do laundry before my heats and then get my members to scent my stuff. I just feel a bit icky when I’m not sure when the last time I washed something was. Felix likes to bake during his preheat, which is sort of perfect because I eat more than usual during my preheat, so I can just eat whatever he made and put in the fridge. But I don’t like eating during my actual heat. As for the stuff in my nest… I have this scarf that Seungminnie bought for me once when we visited Paris. And Lino-hyung gave me a scrunchie that he drew a bunch of Jureumis on that I like to wear on my wrist. Also, Jisungie got me a dumpling plushie that also has a hot water bag inside. I have some other things from the members, too, but those are the first things that come to mind. Most of the other stuff is pillows and blankets. Felix likes fluffier blankets in his nest, but I like the smoother, silkier ones. And I love having my members in my nests with me. Also, I have at least three fans going on at the same time because I hate how hot I get. I do react a bit… dramatically when my members accidentally move something in my nest, which sort of confuses me a bit because that really only happens during my heats.”

You quickly brought out your notebook and pen and scribbled down all the information Hyunjin had given you. As you wrote semi-legibly, you did your best to talk to him at the same time.

“Well, that’s definitely a heat-brain thing. Do you only feel anger or annoyance at your pack when they move your nest around or is it something else, too?”

Hyunjin stopped chewing and set down the bag of candy. “I guess… it does hurt a bit. At first. And then I growl or nip them or something like that.” He shrugged dismissively.

“And that hurt, could it be that your anger is sort of a way to get around it or cover it up?”

He looked up to meet your gaze and squeezed the plastic package so it crinkled. “That… it could definitely be that, I suppose. I think… my brain is sort of telling me that my packmates are changing my nest because they don’t like the way I arranged it.”

You nodded and set down your notebook. “Well, I know that no matter what I say, during your heat, your omega is still likely going to react like that because you don’t have the same level of brain processing power as you do when you aren’t in heat, but maybe, hopefully, you’ll feel less guilty about it afterwards. Hyunjin, you know that your members love your nests. They don’t want to move it or change it, and from what they’ve told me, they always try to move carefully so that they don’t offend you. They also understand that you’re protective of your nests and that you react, as you put it, dramatically. They know that that can be a risk to stepping into your nest, but I am sure that it’s worth it to them. Even if they get nipped or growled at, they made the choice to enter your nest and they obviously think that it was worth it if they come back again and again.”

Hyunjin watched you with wide eyes before his face broke out into a soft smile. “Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. Plus, Lino-hyung bites the others enough that they should be able to deal with me if I bite them once or twice during my heat, even if I bite them a bit harder than he does.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes and leaned backwards until he was lying down. “I can’t believe I’m in a relationship with those losers.”

You smiled at him, glad that he could go from serious topics to more light-hearted ones. You grabbed another candy bag and a question formed in your brain.

“What exactly does the company know about your relationship?” You asked, tearing open the packet, this one with cartoon purple lizards advertising how “de-liz-cious” the gummies were.

Hyunjin hummed, popping a chocolate-covered cracker into his mouth. Once he chewed and swallowed it, he passed the bag to you.

“The company knows that we help each other through our heats and ruts, that’s why they had you sign a bunch of NDAs,” he told you, “but they don’t exactly know about the actual relationship between us. They know Hannie and Lino-hyung go out together, but they don’t know they’re actually going out together. They know Binnie-hyung flirts with me, but they don’t know that I flirt back when the cameras are off. They know that Chan-hyung and Felix sleep together a lot but they don’t know that they sleep together a lot.” He paused. “And I mean a lot. Honestly, most of the time, sleeping seems to be the last thing on their minds. Horny losers.” He shook his head fondly before refocusing. “The company tells us to play things up for the camera a bit for fan service, but what they don’t know is that we’re actually toning it down.” He finished with a smirk.

You grinned. “Wow. So they don’t know you’re in a relationship at all?”

“Nope. Just our families and some of our friends know. And now you, noona.” Hyunjin rolled over and stretched his arms out. “I guess we are pretty affectionate towards each other around our staff, but I think the whole 8-members thing actually throws them off. Poly packs aren’t as common as they used to be, so it probably hasn’t even occurred to them. They likely assume that some of us are together, just in couples, but they’ve never asked us outright, I think they’re fine with acting ignorant as long as we don’t let them or the public know anything.”

You had collected all of the empty snack bags and were about to throw them away while Hyunjin stretched his arms above his head. “So, is there anything else you want to tell me? I feel like we covered a lot, but just let me know if there’s something else.”

Hyunjin had moved on to stretching his back but paused to smile at you and shake his head. “No, I think we talked about everything we needed to, noona.”

“Okay.” You collected your notebook and bag before shoving the extra snacks in there as well. “Do you think now is a good time to interrupt the dance practice?”

Hyunjin stood up gracefully and sighed. “It’s always a good time to interrupt dance practice. I think Changbin-hyung and Innie will be eternally grateful to you.”

“Not you?” You questioned. “You picked out the snacks and it was your idea.”

He waved his hand dismissively as you made your way out of the dance studio and into the elevator. “They’ll be grateful for about five minutes until they conveniently forget it. Or they’ll ask me why I didn’t come and save them earlier.”

The elevator ride was silent, but much more comfortable than when the two of you had been in the same elevator earlier. You stepped out into the hallway, following Hyunjin until he came to a door on the right.

He peeked in through the window and smiled before gently opening the door.

The song and dance they were doing weren’t as intense as some of their other tracks and routines, it was a B-side they recorded earlier that day, and were still dancing to the guide version, but you could see that they were putting in the exact same amount of effort, no matter what the tempo or sound quality was. Their moves were soft, almost floaty, but they were still very deliberate and precise.

You saw Minho’s eyes glance at you and Hyunjin in the mirror from where he was at the front of the formation, but he gave no other acknowledgment of your presence.

I.N and Changbin also noticed you, but they were less smooth about it. Changbin faltered in his movements and Innie fell behind rhythm.

“Yah, finish up the song, brats. Then we can take a break.”

At Lee Know’s words, the other two seemed to come alive, dancing with more energy than before. The song wasn’t much longer, and their positioning for the ending pose almost made you laugh out loud. Of course, the dance was meant to be for eight members, and there were quite a few missing, so there was Minho and Innie posed together on one side of the studio and Changbin all alone on the other side. Evidently Hyunjin shared the same thoughts as you, but didn’t keep quiet about laughing, even as you two clapped politely.

“Oh, my Binnie-hyung, are you lonely over there?” Hyunjin teased.

Changbin unfroze from his pose to flop down on the wood floor, all splayed out and breathing heavily, but focused on Hyunjin. In a high-pitched voice, he called out, “Yah, Hyunjin, I’m always lonely when I’m away from you!” He wriggled on the floor in a way that you guessed was supposed to be cute, but his obvious lack of energy made it seem more like a fish flopping around on land.

Hyunjin giggled and walked over to Changbin, squatting and grabbing the alpha’s outstretched hand as he murmured something you couldn’t hear.

Innie had flopped down as well, almost mirroring Changbin as he took deep breaths. Minho had walked over to turn the music off, and then sat on the couch with a water bottle.

Seeing that he was mostly okay, you turned back to I.N. “Hey, little alpha. Do you want me to bring you your water bottle?”

Jeongin let out a loud groan that echoed around the studio. “Oh my gosh, noona, you are seriously my new favorite person. Yes, please. It’s the green one.”

You walked over to the wooden counter and retrieved the green water bottle. You spotted a blue and pink water bottle next to it and, deducing that it was Changbin’s, you handed it to Hyunjin to give it to Changbin before you headed back over to I.N.

You squatted next to him just as a loud groan pierced the air. “Y/N! You are welcome to stay with our group for the rest of our lives! I’m going to produce a song about you and sing it at every single concert and award show!”

You smirked at Changbin’s words as Innie thanked you for his water. “Just for brining you your water bottle? At least wait until you see what Hyunjin and I brought in my bag for you.”

Changbin sat up like he was possessed. “What do you have?”

You walked over to your bag and unzipped it, pulling out the barbecue chips Hyunjin had picked out. You tossed them over to Changbin, whose eyes widened as he caught them and read the label. “Yah, Y/N, how did you know I liked these?”

You shrugged as you made your way over to Minho, pudding in hand. “A certain omega packmate of yours might have told me. It was actually his idea, so make sure to thank him.”

Hyunjin had fully sat down next to Changbin, but now, Changbin tackled him onto his back and wriggled the two of them around like happy earthworms.

Minho smiled and thanked you as you handed him the pudding before peeling it open and lying down on the couch. You weren’t entirely sure how safe it was to eat the pudding like that, but he seemed confident in his abilities, like he had done this before, so you left him to it and walked over to Jeongin with the cheese crackers in hand.

Innie had been staring at the other two members, his expression one of disgust, but you could see the fondness sparkling in his eyes. “Gross,” he stated, as Changbin started kissing all over Hyunjin’s face.

“Hopefully, you’ll find this a little less gross,” you told him as you handed him the crackers.

His eyes lit up as he took the packet from you. “Thanks, noona.”

You zipped up your bag and threw it to the other side of the room. “You should be thanking Hyunjin, he picked them out for you.”

Jeongin frowned as he ripped open the snack package. “I don’t need to thank him. If anything, this is what I deserve as compensation for dealing with him.” His eyes wrinkled with his smile as he stuffed a cracker in his mouth. “Oh, thank you, noona! I’ve been extra hungry all day for some reason.”

You smiled and were about to respond when you were interrupted by Hyunjin flopping down next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. “Yes, thank you, noona. I’m really glad that you’re our caretaker. We haven’t known you for long, but I can tell that we’re going to love you.”

…

Sorry for any mistakes, I edited this and posted it in my college’s parking lot😭

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[c-and-matteo]

Hi! I discovered I'm a switch with my most recent boyfriend, who happens to be a switch but is more inclined to be a sub. I am still exploring my domme side, which I didn't know I had until I met him and dwelved into the world of kinks. Because I've been more exposed to the idea of women ( I am myself a woman) being submissive and vanilla sex all my life, because I am a shy person, and because I became aware of my domme side fairly recently, I think, sometimes it is hard for me to find the confidence to dom my partner as much as and in all the ways I would really like to. Do you have any advice for women who are just starting in their domme 'journey'? Any advice would be appreciated.

For me when I started, a lot of my confidence came from having a plan. Or at least an idea of what I wanted to try during the scene. Of course things won’t go exactly how you think, but just focusing on the energy I wanted to create in the scene.

One thing that helped me a lot when I first started out was doing things to my partner that I would have liked a Dom to do to me when I was subbing. (If those things work for your partner, that is.) I started very simply with a scene structure where I laid down a couple of rules for my sub to follow (I.e. always say “yes ma’am” after i tell you to do something, no touching me without my permission) and then “punished” (more funishment, really) him if he broke one.

I’ve always liked spanking, so I leaned into that when I started because I felt like the concept of it turned me on enough that I might like doing it to someone else— and turns out I was right.

Another thing I did was to create a questionnaire for my partner to see what kinks he was most into that I wanted to try. I made a list of the kinks I knew I wanted to try and I created an emoji key like this he could use to communicate his answers:

🥵 = very horny yes

☺️ = sounds nice

🫣 = nervous but yes

🥴 = embarrassed but yes

🧐 = curious

😶 = neutral

🫤 = eh, soft limit

👎 = hard limit

I gave him time to fill it out on his own, and I had other questions in there too that required written responses.

Once I got his answers we went over them together and I asked follow up questions and clarifying questions where I felt it would help.

Another thing I’ve found to be crucial is establishing not only your safe word / words (we use the classic green/yellow/red system) but also making a plan for what will happen if they’re called. And we practiced calling them before being in a scene, too.

I was surprised with my partner how difficult it was for him to call yellow/red in a scene, he often felt worried it would mess up the flow, so we would practice in a space that was not as sexually charged before going into a scene. This helped me feel more confident that he would communicate with me if something was off

When I’m playing with my partner my biggest concern is often if he’s okay, if he’s enjoying himself. Having safety guards in place and knowing he will call yellow/red if he needs to helps me feel confident.

The journey is so personal, so please take all of this with a grain of salt and follow what feels right to you.

I feel like this was just the tip of the iceberg, but hopefully it helps. 🤍

[muiitoloko]

Could you write something fluffy for David ? Or a mix of fluffy and smut if you prefer ? I don’t know anyone who write stories about him and he’s so interesting ! I really liked your stories with his shy partner and hope we would get more ☺️

Title: Late Night Texts

Summary: David's nightly messages, filled with warmth and affection, become a cherished routine for his shy partner.

Pairing: David Friedman × Fem! Reader

Warnings: none

Author's Notes: Thank you so much for your kind words! 😊 I’d love to write something fluffy for David. He's such an interesting character, and I'm thrilled that you enjoy my stories with his shy partner.

First, Second and Third part here.

Also read on Ao3

David lay in bed, a smile playing on his lips as he tried to type out a message to you. He much preferred making calls, his baritone voice resonating with warmth and affection, but he knew you were shy and preferred writing. So, despite his longing to hear your voice, he typed away, his fingers moving deliberately over the screen, like a grandfather navigating modern technology.

His phone pinged with your latest message, and he chuckled softly to himself before responding.

You:

Hey, I hope you’re not too tired. Did you manage to get some rest today?

David carefully tapped out his reply, each word chosen with care.

David:

Not as much as I should have, but thinking about you makes it worth it. How about you? Did you manage to relax a bit?

He waited, his heart swelling with affection as he thought about you. He could picture you now, probably biting your lip in that adorable way you did when you were shy or nervous. He knew it had been a long day for you, and he wanted to offer you some comfort.

You:

I tried, but it’s hard to relax without you around. I miss you.

David's heart melted at your words. He quickly typed his response, his fingers clumsily hitting the wrong keys a few times, but he didn't mind.

David:

I miss you too, more than you know. Just a few more days and we'll be together again. I’m counting down the minutes.

He paused, his thumb hovering over the send button as he added one more line.

David:

You know, hearing your voice is like a lullaby for me. But I understand if you prefer texting. Just know that I’d love to hear it anytime.

He sent the message and settled back against the pillows, waiting for your response. It wasn't long before his phone pinged again.

You:

I know you do, and I promise I’ll call you soon. I just get so nervous. Thank you for understanding.

David smiled, his heart swelling with warmth. He typed back, his movements slower now as he tried to express his feelings perfectly.

David:

Take all the time you need. I’ll be here, waiting and loving you no matter what. Your comfort and happiness are what matter most to me.

He sent the message and lay there, imagining your shy smile as you read his words. The thought of you brought a sense of peace over him, and he felt a contentment that he hadn’t known in a long time.

As David lay in bed, his phone pinged with another message from you. He opened it, and instead of words, he found a series of colorful figures. He narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of the images. What were these tiny pictures supposed to mean? He tapped the screen, but nothing happened. With a puzzled frown, he quickly typed a response.

David:

Hey, love, what are those colorful pictures you sent? How did you do that?

You chuckled to yourself, lying in your own bed, the soft glow of your phone illuminating your face. You quickly typed a response, trying to explain as simply as possible.

You:

Those aren’t pictures, David. They’re emojis! Little icons that represent feelings, objects, or actions. They’re fun to use. 😊❤️

David read your message, his brow furrowing slightly. Emojis, he thought, trying to wrap his head around the concept. He responded, his curiosity piqued.

David:

Emojis? How do you use them? And why?

You smiled at his earnestness, your heart warming at the thought of him trying to understand. You began typing a detailed explanation.

You:

Yes, emojis! They can add a lot of emotion to a message. For example, if you’re happy, you can use 😊 or 😁. If you love something, you can use ❤️. They’re like a way to show how you feel without words.

You paused, thinking of how best to teach him to use them.

You:

To use them, just tap on the smiley face icon on your keyboard. It’ll open up a menu of different emojis. You can scroll through and pick the ones you like. Try it!

David followed your instructions, his fingers moving cautiously over the screen. He found the smiley face icon and tapped it, revealing a world of tiny icons he had never noticed before. He selected a few, feeling slightly awkward but determined to get it right.

David:

😊❤️👍

He sent the message, feeling a small sense of accomplishment. Your phone pinged with his response, and you laughed softly, delighted by his efforts.

You:

Perfect! You did it! Now you can add a bit of fun to your messages. 😊

David felt a warmth spread through him at your praise. He smiled, his hooked nose crinkling slightly as he typed his reply.

David:

Thank you for teaching me. I’ll try to use them more often. 😊❤️

You smiled at his message, your heart swelling with affection. You could almost hear his baritone voice in your mind, filled with a mixture of curiosity and pride.

You:

You’re welcome! I’m glad you’re giving it a try. And don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it. 😊

David lay back against his pillows, feeling a sense of connection with you despite the distance. The simple act of learning something new from you made him feel closer, and he couldn’t wait for the day when he could hear your voice and hold you in his arms again.

Meanwhile, in your own home, you smiled at your phone, hugging it to your chest. The warmth of David’s messages filled you with a sense of comfort and joy. You relished these small moments of connection, especially when his words brought a smile to your face.

Just as you were basking in the sweetness of the exchange, your phone pinged with another notification. Seeing David’s name light up on the screen, you eagerly opened the message. Your eyes widened, and you felt a blush creep up your cheeks as you saw a string of eggplant emojis.

David:

🍆🍆🍆

You couldn't help but laugh softly, feeling both amused and curious. You quickly typed a response, your fingers moving swiftly over the screen.

You:

Eggplants? What does that mean, David?

A moment later, your phone pinged again with David’s reply. His innocence shone through his words, and you couldn’t help but find it endearing.

David:

I had some eggplants for dinner today. They were delicious! 😊

You laughed out loud, the sound filling the quiet room. The sheer innocence of his message warmed your heart. In the beginning, you had been the shy and innocent one in your relationship, always learning from David’s worldliness. But now, it felt as though the roles had been reversed, and it was refreshing.

You:

Oh, David, that’s adorable. 😊

David’s response came quickly, his curiosity evident.

David:

Did I say something funny?

You smiled, feeling a rush of affection for him. You decided to explain, wanting to share a lighthearted moment with him.

You:

Well, the eggplant emoji can have a different meaning. It’s often used to represent something... more suggestive. 😳

There was a pause before David’s next message, and you could almost imagine him sitting there, his brow furrowing in confusion.

David:

Oh! Fuck! I didn’t know that. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.

You chuckled softly, feeling a sense of warmth spread through you.

You:

No, it’s okay! It’s actually really sweet. I like your innocence. It’s endearing. 😊

David’s next message brought a smile to your face.

David:

I guess I still have a lot to learn. But I’m glad I can make you smile. 👍

You hugged your phone to your chest again, feeling a deep sense of connection with him. It was moments like these that reminded you of how much you cherished your relationship, the way you both continued to grow and learn together. The thought of seeing him again, hearing his baritone voice in person, filled you with anticipation and excitement.

You typed a final message for the night, wanting to leave him with a smile.

You:

You always make me smile, David. Can’t wait to see you. Goodnight. 😊❤️

David’s reply was swift and heartfelt.

David:

Goodnight, love. Sleep well. ❤️

As you lay in bed, the phone still clutched to your chest, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. Despite the distance and the challenges, you knew that your bond with David was strong, built on a foundation of love, trust, and mutual understanding. And that was enough to keep you going, until the day you could be in each other’s arms again.

[laracrofted]

we'd run inside out from the cold

synopsis: jake takes his girlfriend home for christmas. (or i realized jake seresin will never chop down a christmas tree for me and had to soothe the ache somehow.)

pairings: jake seresin x fem!reader (no y/n, a few uses of a call sign)

warnings: all fluff all the time, swearing, just kissing, smut is implied only but jake has some impure thoughts so... 18+, minors dni

note: inspired by this mood board i made. it was supposed to be short and sweet and instead, it's 2000+ words and suggestive. happy december, babes!

tagging a few people who might like this one @theharddeck @double-j @bioodforbiood @t-nd-rfoot @bradshawsbitch (who wrote a winter-themed bob fic that was so cute and cozy, it sent me into a downward spiral. read it here!)

You are nowhere to be found when Jake patters down the stairs, freshly changed from his stiff denim jeans into flannel pajama pants that’d probably fit him back in his Academy days. They’re a little too short now, exposing a stretch of bare ankle between the hem and his wool socks. 

He shivers in the cold stillness of the living room, tugging the sleeves of his sweater down to cover his palms. 

You are the last ones up, and Jake hasn’t unplugged the tree yet, expecting you to stay up a little longer.

You want to put the Christmas cookies in the oven and watch Sandra Bullock and Bill Pullman find love in While You Were Sleeping.

He just wants to wrap his arms around his girl and drift in and out of sleep with you pulled tight against his chest, warm and cozy under a pile of blankets. 

He wants to sneak some raw cookie dough, and when you inevitably scold him for it, lecturing him about salmonella and the like, Jake wants to shut you up with a kiss that tastes like gingerbread and molasses; wants to feel you melt into him like the sugary frosting on his tongue. 

In the soft multicolor glow of the Christmas lights, Jake looks for the familiar shape of you buried under the handmade quilt that Grandma Seresin gave him for Christmas last year. Never mind that Jake has enough quilts to carpet his apartment back in San Diego. Ma has to hold onto the others, keeping them folded upstairs in the closet of his childhood bedroom. 

Still, Jake accepts each new one with a dashing smile and a kiss on her wrinkled cheek.

No one is hidden beneath the quilt.

He folds it over his arm, still warm with her body heat, and Christmas lights gleam off the black iPhone screen on the coffee table. He picks that up too, smiling at the case, clear and covered in little illustrated butterflies that match your call sign. Sets it back down and looks around the room. 

Not in here, Jake thinks. 

He was gone for all of the five minutes and definitely would’ve heard you come upstairs. Ma still hadn’t gotten anyone in to fix the creak in the third and second-to-last stairs. Sounds like a damn cat in heat.

Or… Jake remembers with a slight smirk, like the strangled sound Rooster had let out when Phoenix accidentally nailed him the balls during a round of football one time. They’d never known Rooster’s crows could reach that pitch. 

That reminds him… 

Jake owes Rooster a Christmas Eve text.

He’d gone to the mountains with Maverick for Christmas. Penny Benjamin rented some picturesque cabin in the woods, in an area that was known for good skiing and snowboarding, so Rooster was probably having the time of his life. Still, Jake wants to check in, just in case joining the Mitchell and Benjamin family unit hadn’t gone well. 

He punches out the text. 

A casual, non-invasive How’s it going with Mav? that Rooster immediately responds to with a string of emojis that’d be unintelligible to anyone who doesn’t spend 40+ hours a week with the dude. He seems to be having a good enough time, so Jake slides his phone back into his pocket, looks down at the abandoned phone again.

“Now,” Jake says out loud. “Where did you sneak off to, sweetheart?” 

His voice is almost too loud in the near silent room, and Jake cocks his head to listen more closely for any signs of his girl. He is met with the low buzz of the baseboard heaters and the occasional whoosh of the wind blowing snow against the windows. 

He shivers again, and Jake has an epiphany. 

It shouldn’t be so cold in here with the heat on, which means…

He pokes his head into the kitchen and sees the back door is open. Not enough to let the weather in, just a precaution someone might take to keep themselves from getting locked out. Someone smart, like Jake’s girlfriend. 

He grabs his snow boots, pulls them on over his socks, and quilt in hand, slips out into the bitter night. 

Snow crunches softly under his boots, and Jake will need to sweep the snow from the deck in the morning. He already did it this afternoon, after getting back from the Christmas Tree Farm, but Texas is facing a historically cold winter with record snowfall this week.

Snow paints a pretty picture for a white Christmas, making everything glitter and gleam in the pale moonlight. 

Nothing could ever paint as pretty a picture as the one Jake finds outside.

You’re bundled in one of his old coats, a nice one with a fur-lined hood, and a familiar knit hat. Ma made that one, and after you forgot your beanie in your suitcase, Jake made a big show of setting it on your head during their search for the perfect Christmas tree this afternoon.

He purposely pulled it down too far, covering your eyes too. You scrunched your nose at him and acted all annoyed, but Jake could see the pleased glow to your cheeks, already flushed from the cold. 

It made him feel the same way that Jake feels right now, like your visible happiness is a hot lance through his heart. You’re seated on the brick stairs that lead down to the yard and the stables, but Jake holds back and watches his girl for a moment, unobserved. 

How in the world did Jake Seresin become to the luckiest man alive?

He was always the insensitive one, always the asshole, always second-best even after giving every part of himself over to the pursuit of ice-cold perfection. Him. 

He presses his hand to the soft material of his woolen sweater, right over that aching spot in his chest, and lets out a deep breath. 

“There you are,” Jake says, calling your name. You half-turn.

Snowflakes catch in the hair that escapes from the hat, shining in the dim light from the kitchen windows, and Jake brushes it from the jacket, dropping onto the step beside his girl. He can feel the wet snow seeping into the flannel pants, making them damp. He doesn’t mind much.

You smile at him, bright as the Christmas lights on the tree inside, glittering as the fresh snow on the ground in the blue beams of moonlight. Lean your head on his shoulder.

He wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you against the line of his side, wanting you as close as possible. Not even an inch of space between you. 

He always wants you there. 

Ma was the first of his family members to notice, though Jake’s sisters didn’t take long to catch on too. Damn Seresin women…

“She’s not gonna disappear while I’ve got you washing the salad forks,” Ma joked, smacking him lightly on the shoulder with a plaid hand towel. 

He probably deserved that, missing her prompt to pass the pile of utensils yet again because Jake was too busy looking over his shoulder, tracking you from across the room. 

He whipped his head back around, face warm. 

Ma didn’t miss that either.

“Look at that…” Ma commented, taking the bundle of spoons that Jake handed her and dunking them into the soapy water. “You two gonna okay sleeping in separate rooms? Wouldn’t want you to come down with separation anxiety.” 

“Give it a rest, Ma,” Jake grumbled, embarrassed. He blamed the heat of the still-warm over for the blush that crept down his neck. He waited until Ma was preoccupied looking down at the sink before Jake cast another quick look over his shoulder. 

You might not be sharing a room, but Jake sneaks across the hall into the guest bedroom every night to slip beneath the comforter for a few blissful hours, one arm underneath the pillow, the other wrapped around your torso, cradling you against him. Legs so intertwined that when Jake has to untangle himself to lean over and kiss you in the early morning, slithering his hand across your collarbone, coaxing your head back with a gentle press of his fingers. 

It is hard to leave you there, softly moaning into his mouth in the pre-dawn blue, but Jake has to be back in his own bed before Ma gets up to feed the horses. He’s starting to get dark circles under his eyes from doing it every morning. It’s well worth it. 

“Didn’t meant to disappear, babe. Just wanted to see the snow at night.” Your words are barely louder than a whisper, brushing against the side of Jake’s neck, as if you’re matching the muffled tone of the snowfall. “So quiet out here.” 

“It is,” Jake agrees. “Far cry from San Diego.” 

He notices your knee bouncing and unfolds the quilt over your legs, cocooning you both in a pocket of warmth. It’s cold enough out to fog the windows and cover them in a thin sheet of frost, and Jake can see the puff of your breaths. 

You are warm against his side. 

Soft again, quiet as snow. “Thank you for bringing me here.” 

He swings his gaze to look at you, pitching your chin up with two fingers and looking into your sparkling eyes. It hits him again. Adoration pierces through him, right through the heart, and Jake strokes the side of your face with the pad of his thumb.

You sneak your hand from under the blanket, reaching up to cup the side of his face in turn. Run your palm across the prickled scruff that’s grown on his jaw over the past few days. 

He leans into your hold, closing his eyes for a hushed moment.  

And then Jake pulls back, catching your hand in his and kissing the center of your palm, then interlacing your fingers. 

“Thanks for comin’ with me, Butterfly,” Jake murmurs, leaning down to press an affectionate kiss to your cheek. You happen to turn at the same time, eyes bright, and Jake catches your mouth. 

Your lips are cold, but Jake makes quick work of warming them, coaxing them open, licking into your mouth. You taste honey sweet. Like the white wine from dinner and peaches from the after-dinner cobbler, and Jake drinks in every bit of sweetness, every soft sigh that spills from your lips. 

Hands itching to pull apart the buttons of the coat, to tug the loose sweater away from your neck and press open-mouthed kisses all the way down the line of your throat… 

Jake breaks the kiss. 

Leans his forehead against yours to catch his breath, calming the heart that’s threatening to beat out of his chest, racing like a wild horse.  

“You okay there?” 

He can hear the amusement in your voice. 

A smile tugs at his lips. “Just… Give me a second while I hold back the urge to lay you down in the snow and…” He lets the sentence die. All in the name of holding back the urge. 

You laugh. It echoes like the jingle of bells around the snowy woods.

Wind whooshes through the frosted trees, carrying your laugh back to you, and Jake notices more and more snowflakes gathering on their sleeves, frosting your delicate eyelashes. It’s starting to come down harder. 

“We should head inside,” Jake says, pushing up to his feet. He shakes the snow from the quilt, making a mental note to hang it over the staircase railing to dry overnight. 

You look up at him, and Jake holds out a hand. 

Your eyes sparkle with mischief. “Head inside to watch the movie and make cookies, right?” 

He shakes his head, smirking. “No. I’ve got to get out of these wet pants before I get hypothermia. Thanks to you.” 

Hand slipping into his, Jake watches your mouth drop open, biting down on his lip. He tugs you to your feet, fast enough to send you crashing into his chest, just to hear that familiar surprised exhale shoot from your parted lips.

You look at him with narrowed eyes. “Watch it, Lieutenant. I’m cold too.” 

“Really?” He walks you back under the shelter of the doorway, shield you from the snow with his torso. Icicles glean from the edge of the roof. “Don’t want you getting hypothermia either then, darling. Think I might need to run a midnight shower for the both of us. How’s that sound?” 

Home makes his accent thicker, and Jake plays it up even more, watching the way your lashes flutter against your cheeks. He’s got you, hook, line, and sinker. 

“What about the cookie dough?” is the only protest that falls from your lips. 

“Put ‘em back in the fridge,” Jake instructs, leading you back inside and closing the door behind you both.

 “And don’t you worry, sweetheart…” He presses the next words into the hollow right below your ear, planting a wet kiss there, skating his tongue out to lick the delicate skin. “I’ll go easy on you. You’ve got to be able to get on a horse tomorrow.” 

A wonderful gasp graces his ears, and Jake can’t help his grin. 

You scowl at him, but Jake feels you shiver against him. His grin widens, sharp and intent. He heads back into the living room to unplug the Christmas lights.

Ma sees you headed back from the horseback ride early on Christmas morning before the rest of the Seresin clan will come around to exchange well wishes and open presents.

Frowning slightly, Ma pulls him aside and asks, “Where’d you take that girl this morning?” 

Brows furrowed, Jake recounts the route, taking you around a local trail that ran the length of a frozen stream and gave you a good view of the stables, dusted in white like a gingerbread house. You’d been giddy at the picturesque view, wearing an old film camera around your neck to snap a few shots. You’d pressed your gratitude against the line of his neck, and Jake probably needed a cold shower before changing into his Christmas attire.

“It was an easy one,” Jake asks, confused. “Why?” 

“Wasn’t a rough ride with the snow, was it? She’s limpin’ a little bit.” 

And Jake buries his grin behind a cough. 

end note: butterfly comes from me listening to phoebe bridgers's so much wine cover on repeat while writing this. hope you liked it, but i'd love to hear your thoughts and feelings!

part two with the shower smut, lmk? now posted here!

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐(i’m sensing some sweetness coming! Good for May she deserves all the good things in this world!)

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮(CRANBERRY IM SO GLAD YOURE OKAY! And i’m loving how this setup gives a new perspective to the classic Buckley-Diaz family vibes)

➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰(BUDDIE TIME LOOP???? BUDDIE TIME LOOP!!!! Cal its insane how with three words you’ve already got me hooked - you’re so good with inexplicable magic as a plot device so I’m so excited for your take on this classic! I’m already sure it’s gonna be absolutely phenomenal!)

Thank you for all this my dear!! And if any of these stories are finished by the time you get to these please know that the odds are good that I’ve already read them and loved every single word!

I hope you have/had a nice weekend! Sending lots of love!!!

Okay! So since I have completed two of the fics here, what I will do is give you 63 (combined total) of my next Gotcha For Gaza prompt fic (which I might have combined with an idea from @exhuastedpigeon ), with no context once again. Here's the emoji: ☠️

---

One reads Chip N. Dales. The other, murder victim. What on earth? 

“Athena!” Eddie blurts. He sounds intoxicated. 

“Eddie?” She gawks at him. “I got a call about a possible death at this address? Please let it just be your name tag.”

“No, no,” he shakes his head. “That was me. I called 9-1-1. But I’m not really dead. It’s someone else.”

Definitely intoxicated, then. And, from his demeanor, it must not be one of his closest friends who has died. Athena feels a surge of relief. 

“Eddie, who is dead?” She asks calmly. 

Eddie winces. “It’s Captain Gerrard.”

Well. That certainly complicates things, doesn’t it?

▪️▪️▪️

Eddie, a little wobbly, leads Athena into the condo. 

“Is this Gerrard’s house?” She asks. 

“No. Tommy’s.”

“Tommy?” 

“You know? Buck’s boyfriend? Pilot?”

“No, I know who Tommy Kinnard is,” Athena replies. “Just… What are you all doing here with your fire captain?”

As far as she had heard, they all hated the man. And as far as Buck had said, Tommy’s history with his former captain was also complicated. 

Athena has a bad feeling about this. A very bad feeling about this. 

“Tommy hosted a murder mystery party,” Eddie says. “S’why I died.”

Oh boy.

Eddie leads Athena into a dining room with sleek, modern black furniture and some very strange wall art. Which is really not what Athena should be looking at. There are more pressing things. Like Captain Gerrard on the floor, swollen and lifeless, as Buck is hunched over him, performing CPR. Buck. The person with the least paramedic training in the room, other than perhaps Karen Wilson. Because for some reason, she is also here.

Athena takes inventory.

Gerrard. 

Buck.

Eddie. 

Tommy.

Hen.

Karen.

Chimney.

 Two men Athena has never seen in her life, but if she had to guess, are also firefighters. 

Everyone has name tags on. None of them say their real names. Characters, more likely.

---

75 for ➰ (OH YOU ARE TUNING IN HERE FOR A CRAZY PART!)

Tagging @steadfastsaturnsrings

---

He’s almost certain Eddie has never called him that before. Though he feels a soft familiarity accompany it. 

“How did you sleep?” He asks, voice low to avoid waking Christopher in the adjoining room.

Eddie’s lip twitches. 

“Good,” he answers. “I always sleep well beside you, Buck. You know that.”

Buck hums happily. 

“Same here.” Buck replies. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Well, whatever you want,” Eddie says. “I know you’ve got an itinerary.” 

Oh, does he ever. They’d done Morro Bay State Park and the nearby history museum yesterday. 

“So glad you’re on board,” Buck grins. “I’m thinking, estuary, let Chris see some sea otters, then head to the beach?” 

“Oh, and you have no interest in said sea otters?” Eddie teases.

“Okay, they’re cute, Eddie!” 

“I know they’re cute,” Eddie replies. “I’m certain you will both look cute gawking at them.”

“Well, then let’s get going,” Buck decides, rolling out of bed. “Let’s wake the kid!”

“You’re a brave man, Evan Buckley.”

“He loves me,” Buck waves off the concern. “More importantly, he loves sea otters.”

When Buck stands, stretching his arms above his head, he notices the old analog clock on the wall. Ugh, that thing. It looks like it’s from the 50s or 60s at least. Not at all fitting with the otherwise modern design of the hotel room. And it’s not even telling the right time. It reads 12:02. As if it’s just after midnight. Buck turns to look at the digital clock. 8:02 AM. Huh. 

“Was it telling the wrong time when we got here?” Buck asks.

Eddie coughs. Small at first, then growing. Like his throat is dry. 

Buck spins to face him. “You okay?”

“Fine. Fine.” Eddie insists. “What did you ask?”

“The clock.” Buck clarifies. “Was it telling the wrong time when we checked in?”

“I…” Eddie’s eyes dart around, like he’s trying to remember. He looks very confused. Too confused for the nature of the question. “I don’t know, Buck. I didn’t pay attention.”

“It’s weird,” Buck says. “It has the minute right. Just not the hour.”

“I think you might be too worried about a clock, Buck.”

“I’m not worried about it. I’m just curious about it. Do you think it’s for another time zone?”

“We can figure out the clock or we can enjoy our day,” Eddie says. “Starting with a big breakfast?”

Buck smirks. “You sure know how to get through to me.”

➰➰

Half an hour later, they’re sitting on a big patio eating a complimentary hotel breakfast. Chris looks mildly zombified, like he can’t believe he’s awake this early. Nevermind the fact he wakes up way earlier than this for school. Eddie is indulging in a very big breakfast - more than he’d normally go for, Buck thinks. He’s practically dumping sugar in his coffee. 

“You’re not going to sleep tonight,” Buck warns him. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Eddie shrugs. 

[nerdieforpedro]

One Failed Search - Security Log Drabbles

Part of the Secret Springs Creative Shenanigans

Frankie Morales x Chloé Thomas (plus size AFAB OFC)

My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.

Summary: Lieutenant Chloé Thomas is trying to investigate Frankie Morales - the Harvey Air pilot that she can barely find information on. It does not go well, or perhaps it did?

Warnings: Jokes and puns, fluff, food reference, very bad nicknames, an angry and flexible York, implied smut? (That came early), double M’s, our pilot being a menace, lots of ass and sass, a sprinkle of Spanish, anxiety, crime listings

Word Count: over 2.3k (Drabble? I mean, it’s what I told myself originally.)

Notes: I decided to make it a personal log because that made me giggle the most, I apologize in advance @secretelephanttattoo but you do have two M’s so we’ll call it even. Possible guest mentions (they didn’t ask and neither did I but I thought of them and then stuck cute things in the graphic so here we are) of @goodwithcheese @maggiemayhemnj and @tinytinymenace

You’ll find yourselves. 😎 ❤️❤️❤️

Thanks to @megamindsecretlair and @soft-persephone for listening to me babble about it. @angelofsmalldeath-codeine & @fhatbhabiee for the Spanish. I may use what I asked later.

Main Masterlist/ Frankie Morales Masterlist

My name Chloé Thomas - head of Top Flight Security for the Secret Springs resort. I would write this out but the thought of annoying York with the sound of my voice delights me greatly. I’m starting my little bit of fun now. That's funny because my code name used to be siren because…wait.

Anyway, I’ve just finished messaging York again about final preparations for security of the Secret Springs resort. He is still refusing the red short-shorts, I told him that the guys work out to stay fit, why can’t they show it off a little? We might even want to think about a calendar at some point, this was a joke, but Dave got mad. I told him he could put a pair to sport around for his Lady Gouda Cheese and he promptly messaged me back in all caps, “DO NOT MENTION HER AT ALL. I WILL NOT HAVE YOU GIVING HER IDEAS!!!” He used all sorts of angry emojis but I know that he’d do it for her. He also said not to call her that nickname but it’s a fancy cheese. I think. She also has a thing about ties and leather jackets. I never gave her ideas. He blames me, but she tells me what she has him do. I didn’t know York was that flexible. Good for him I say, also it explains why he doesn’t want anyone touching his neck.

Everyone has their kinks. Mine seems to be voices and hands. A strange combination. I also found another one - broad men.

Correction - this is about one such man. The pilot of this charter plane for Harvey Air. I swear it was only because I couldn’t find any information on him other than his name, his date of birth, nationality and current address. It sounds like plenty but I’m usually able to see past work history, convictions or court cases, financials and such. He has none. It’s all blacked out. Dave said he vetted him but it’s still strange. The mayor’s Pooka Shells (her main squeeze Marcus Pike) and Silver Rim (her second squeeze Marcus Moreno - they’re still workshopping his code name. She said she would let me know the final one. Gotta tell the difference between those Marcus’s) both vouch for this man.

It makes me more curious, which is why I spoke very kindly to the flight attendant and she let me slide by into the cockpit. I think she was too busy trying to flirt with a man who had been wearing a flannel shirt but took it off and now he’s in a white t-shirt. We haven’t taken off yet and the pilot isn’t here so I poke around, maybe there’s a clue.

I’m caught red handed, bent over laying on my stomach over the seat because I’m too damn short, trying to reach a small duffle bag next to the pilot’s chair. “Can I help you Miss? And careful standing up, you might give me more of a show than you already are.”

I freeze, embarrassed that I’m not only caught but might have my ass out. Mayor El said, ‘Wear a dress, you’ll look pretty in pink.’ I mean, yes I do and I love how I look in fuchsia but I don’t want to show the man my cheeky undies, no matter how much I like that they’re peach and match my bralette. I lean back and put a hand carefully on the control panel? I forgot to ask him what it’s actually called. I don’t stand up yet because I feel a little too much air on the back of my thighs and it feels like he could already see my drawers or will be soon.

“I’m going to reach under your arms and lift you up. That alright Miss?” The pilot asks and I agree. I’m horrified, how he’s going to be touching me and feeling my arms. He might not even be able to and then we’re both going to be on the floor in this cramped space and might delay the flight. God I’m going to hear about this from the Mayor, York and everyone. His tone thus far has been one of concern, I’m not sure why, I was trying to go through his stuff. To be honest, I kinda just want to lie here and not face him, I’ve never had a good poker face and I’ll likely have my mouth open from his resonant voice. My body is a different type of tense now.

Surprisingly, I’m up on my feet while I’m still working out how I’m going to get off the floor when we both fall. We did not. His hands are sitting underneath my arms for a few moments before he retracts them. I turn to face him and it’s horrible. Just the worst possible outcome.

One of his large hands is on his chin. He’s wearing a hat that says, ‘Standard Heating Oil’ and it’s covering onyx curls that frame his face and circle the back of his neck. Stroking the scruff on his cheeks, he asked me a question and I could only respond, “Run that by me again please.” His eyes are the color of my favorite flavor - chocolate. Damn it all to hell. His scant file did not have a photo, he is a beautiful man who has a slight scowl on his face.

He sighs and repeats, “I said I’m the pilot and is there a reason you’re in my seat trying to get my bag?” Very good question. Important question. At this point, I should have gave it a moment and then responded but I did not. Because, well I am me.

“I didn’t know pilots came that broad or strong. What do they feed you? Sure it isn’t some deluxe hearting oil?” There have been many moments in life where I have wanted to hide under a blanket or lock myself in a room. This is a whole new level and I need to be in a padded room. The only blessing is that instead of kicking me out of the cockpit, he laughs. I’m not embarrassed, I’m way past that. Who needs shame when his entire face has brightened? Good thing my emotions tend to change quickly.

The booming sound of his laugh coupled with him throwing his head back and holding his chest, enables me to have a small grin. I’ve made him laugh, I might be able to distract him a bit more. Slowly, I move toward the door and at his side. Frankie steps past me and picks up his bag. It has his wallet, a guide book to the Secret Springs, cell phone and a water bottle. “Am I cleared Lieutenant?” His question makes my eyebrows raise, he has a shit-eating grin. “I know you’re in charge of security. Both Marcus’s told me.” Pooka Shells and Chrome Rim or Silver Dollar - whatever the Mayor actually calls him, I’ll shake the both of them when I get there.

“I see. So they told you my title, did they tell you my name Francisco?” I cross my arms and lean my weight back on my right leg. A stance I use when I’m trying to seem pissed, really I’m hiding my shock. Apparently, I truly am easy to read and he puts the bag down and his hands up. Messing me, I might be a bit pissed now.

“Surprisingly, they did not. Said you’d get mad if they mentioned it. They weren’t supposed to know your name is but it was…teased out of the Mayor. Not sure which one did it.” My hands are over my face. Dammit Mayor….bad enough they know and they can get information out of you. It should be fine, maybe. That’s something I’ll need to follow up on.

“Just, not everyone needs to know. We’re going to have plain clothes guards to ensure safety at the resort. I’ll go back to my seat now. Sorry for trying to look through your things. I don’t like unknowns. Your file was scant and even though the double M’s, York and the Mayor said things were fine-“

“You trust but verify. Understandable. More people should. Well lieutenant,” Morales crosses his arms and takes a step toward me. “You’re welcome to sit in here with me. I can fly this bird without your help, but you seem interesting company teniente (Lieutenant).” His sizable palm pats the backrest of the co-pilot’s seat and snort. Why did I snort?! I avoid that even when I laugh really hard. Dangerous, but I sat down anyway. I was invited after all.

The flight over is smooth as butter, with the exception of a spot of turbulence and landing the plane, I didn’t notice the time go by accept it was too short. And that Frankie mutters while on the ascent and descent and it nearly has me arching my back in my seat. Thankfully I did have a silver of composure and fiddled with my headphones. All the guests are off the plane so I exit with Frankie and the flight attendant who is despondent that Surly Flannel (I didn’t call him this to his face. His resting face is a disapproving glare) has not agreed to see her after disembarking. Instead, he meets a woman who’s holding a boom box and they laugh about a flower. I didn’t get to hear what kind.

The Mayor competes her speech with one Marcus on each side, everyone is excited and there don’t seem to be any reports of thief, violence or the like so far. People are just having fun. It’s nice and peaceful. Where do I go now? I’m in this pretty dress with no where to go for the afternoon.

I mill around the security HQ and decide to explore in the evening when it’s cooled off a bit.

But of course the pilot finds me. “You still on duty lieutenant?” He’d been wearing a simple red shirt and cargo pants with fifty pockets on them earlier. Now he was on a white tank almost silk looking shirt with pink shorts that hit just above his knee. If they were a little higher, I’d be able to see a bit more thigh…

“Always on duty. Are you enjoying yourself so far Francisco?” I ask mainly to distract myself and focus on his face instead of looking down at his shorts. I was transparent about it so I’m sure he noticed. I need to be away from him, I’m just going to keep raking over his body with my eyes and it’s not right. But also…it’s not fair that he looks and smells amazing.

“Yup. Scrounging up people for the bar and the games.” The bar part fits, picturing him pouring drinks and shaking that silver mix cup thing with his arms flexing, biceps curling that devilish grin on his face. I meant to exhale but didn’t open my mouth and just hummed. I can normally present like a sane person, he makes my brain short circuit.

This is the first time I’ve seen Frankie react besides laughing. Humming is pretty weird and I’ve only met him today. “Why games at the bar? The drunk people should be enough to handle.” It sounds like a horrible combination and ripe for problems. I don’t need to go to this bar or any bar with him.

He shifts his weight and tilts his head. Then holds his hand out, “Come see teniente (lieutenant). Judge for yourself.” I shouldn’t have taken this hand, more like I couldn’t help it. I’m weak against that grin of his. Morales has charmed many a person with curling lips like that.

Now Frankie is pouring the drinks and I’m on the outskirts of a twister game that is all giggles and ass. There’s a darts game going on in the corner, a lady keeps trying to start karaoke but three of the other local shop owners keep unplugging her microphone. There one man with a scar on over his eye, shirtless and has a woman and her dog who has an adorable rainbow collar on and curls almost as fluffy as Frankie’s sitting in his lap as he drinks out of a chalice.

Where did he get a chalice? Should there be darts over there? Who brought a karaoke machine in here? Why do the twister people have no pants? Like all have nice asses but everything is overwhelming and the two blueberry mint juleps I’ve had are not helping.

Squeezing through a row of cheeks I’m not sure how I ended up in the middle of, I am back at the bar and Frankie has his hand resting in the palm of his hand. “Teniente (Lieutenant), you ever relax? You seem on edge. Have some fun and maybe another drink.” I ordered a mojito this time, change it up a bit. The bar stool I had to hop up on so my feet are hanging. Seeing the bartending pilot at eye level has me clear my throat and swallowing my own spit. My mouth is watering. I need to grip something and there’s only the bar counter. My hands flat against the surface keeps me from floating away.

“Like I said, I’m still on duty. Water please after this drink.” He pours me some on ice to have after my mojito. I remember drinking it. There was some sort of music and he was holding my hand or was holding his. Then my hand was on his chest. I think we were dancing and he switched out with someone so he could come from behind the bar.

I awoke in a room that wasn’t mine and was able to make it back in time for the morning security briefing with the double M’s, York and the Mayor. It did not help that I was wearing the same dress from yesterday. There were lingering looks, but no one asked.

Thankfully, York has agreed to wipe the video if I never mention red shorts again. It’s a great loss, but I concede. Hanging over a concrete barrier is never a good look, thankfully Frankie helped me down, but what was I trying to do? Was it that bad that I blocked it out?

Ending day one log:

Violence - None

Public intoxication - Three (sadly I was one of them)

Public Nudity - Five (not as many as I expected)

Destruction of Property - One (I don’t remember that either)

Injuries: Minor = six, Major = none

Chloé’s well-being: took majors blows but might recover TBD

Security Log Two

[thekillersenjoyer]

Paultrick headcanons !

Who rushes to open doors for the other?

Definitely Patrick.

Who drives more often?

I feel like they’d prefer walking, but if I had to say… maybe Patrick.

Who is more eager to jump in the shower with the other?

Both, depending on their mood.

Who takes self care more seriously?

Patrick, we’ve seen that man’s morning routine.

What’s a song that reminds you of them?

IFHY by Tyler, The Creator.

What other couple/duo reminds you of them?

OOOO this is a hard one… I honestly don’t know :[

Which one keeps more things because they’re sentimental?

Paul, he has little trinkets in his draws and Patrick finds it silly.

Which one tells their parents about their partner first?

Patrick’s a child of divorce, give him a break. Lol, but seriously, it was the ‘80s, they’re taking their relationship to the grave (quite literally hehe).

Who uses emojis?

Again, it’s the ‘80s, but I feel like they’d both use emoticons, Paul more than Patrick though. Specifically this one -> :)

Who is the black cat and who is the golden retriever?

Patrick is the black cat and Paul is the golden retriever.

Who urges the other to go sing a karaoke duet with them?

Paul, Patrick will snarl and refuse profusely. But in a private booth, if Patrick was drunk enough, he would probably sing Whitney Houston. Allen would sing his heart out and Bateman (Again, depending on how many drinks he’s had) will do the bare minimum or try to out sing Paul.

What is their karaoke song?

Hip to Be Square of course! I feel like they’d also sing Tainted Love by Soft Cell too.

Who stares at the other from across the room?

Patrick, but Paul sneaks some looks here and there when he notices.

Who insists they are their pets’ parents?

Paul, Patrick thinks it’s stupid to call something you didn’t produce your child.

Who is more impulsive?

Patrick, Patrick, Patrick.

Who has more patience?

Paul, he teases Patrick for being so impatient.

Who talks more during a movie

Paul definitely.

[lisbeth-kk]

Clues

Thanks for the prompt @calaisreno and the tag @raina-at

Sometimes you need a push.

“You’re going to lose him, you know,” Molly says earnestly.

Sherlock just huffs, focusing on the fingernails on the corpse they’re examining.

When they’ve concluded, Molly continues the one-sided conversation.

“He’ll get tired of waiting. You must know how he feels about you by now, Sherlock. It’s totally obvious, but he’s not exactly…”

“Gay, you mean,” Sherlock snaps at her, puts on his Belstaff with his usual flaunt and exits the morgue.

He gets a text from John in the cab.

Ordered sushi. Can you pick up a few bottles of wine on the way?

Consider it done. SH

He gets some funny emoji in return. A blue-grey two headed thing. When he searches the emoji bar, he finds it next to the lungs. Maybe John’s just touched the wrong one, though none of the other emojis stands out, if you don’t count the inner organs like heart and brain.

Sherlock starts to ponder Molly’s words after he’s stopped for wine. Losing John. Just two words but the meaning of those words is something Sherlock can’t think about without getting nauseous. And then it’s the other thing Molly mentioned. How John feels about him. Sherlock knows John loves him. As a friend, but it stops there, doesn’t it? Has John ever shown interest in Sherlock in a more romantic way? If so, he's hidden it well. From Sherlock at least. There have been no clues. Perhaps Molly just sees what she wants to see. That must be it. She’s a romantic soul, and clearly wants Sherlock to have what she has with…Peter? No, Patrick…Paul? Never mind. 

***

They’ve eaten and finished one bottle of wine. John’s eager to open a second one.

“You’ve got excellent taste in wine, Sherlock,” John beams as he struggles with the cork.

“Need a hand with that?” Sherlock offers amused.

John’s getting tipsy, and it’s a state Sherlock can appreciate. When he let’s go of his Britishness, John gets all affectionate and flirty, and sometimes Sherlock craves that. Craves John’s attention. His indisputable admiration. The aftermath of such events can be devastating for Sherlock. When John apologises, gets awkward, goes for long walks, and dates for several weeks. Tonight though, Sherlock decides to push John a bit. He’s gotten a bit tipsy himself, and Molly’s words refuses to leave him alone. What if John feels…

“There!” 

John interrupts his train of thought when he finally manages to open the wine bottle. He grins at Sherlock.

“Some more wine, gorgeous? You’re glass is empty,” John states and concentrates while pouring wine into both glasses.

Did John just call him gorgeous?

John’s never called him anything like that before. Git, twat, idiot, and his name in all variations, but never endearments. Could that be a sign, or is John too inebriated to notice what he’s said? He needs more data.

“You seem happy today. Any particular reason?” Sherlock prompts, fishing for clues to John’s odd behaviour.

John clears his throat and blushes a bit. It’s quite adorable.

Adorable! Since when did he start using words like that? Too much wine probably.

“I just…um…realised something,” John begins, not looking at Sherlock, instead seems to find his socks quite fascinating.

Sherlock waits for John to continue. It takes a numerous amount of time. When he speaks again, his voice is almost sober and there’s a hint of captain Watson in his stance.

“I’ve decided to stop dating,” John exclaims.

Sherlock’s heart skips a beat at that. Molly was right. He’s going to lose John. Stop dating means that John’s found a woman he wants to settle down with, get engaged to, marry, have kids with. It means John’s leaving Baker Street. His brain buzzes and Sherlock’s afraid he’s going to black out. John has apparently continued talking, but Sherlock hasn’t heard a word. Three words are playing in his mind making him want to vomit.

I’m losing him!

***

Sherlock feels warm, steady and familiar hands on his knees. Thumbs stroking, soothing. John’s voice soft and concerned, now forming coherent words.

“Hey. You alright, Sherlock? What happened? Didn’t you hear me?”

Sherlock blinks rapidly and John’s face comes into focus. His blue gaze has a lovely expression.

Of course it does. He’s finally found the love of his life!

He closes his eyes. Can’t stand to see all that joy directed at a person that’s not Sherlock. His eyes prickle. He can’t cry in front of John. Pinches his thighs to redirect the pain and focus on that instead of the ache in his heart. He knows he’s failed miserably when he feels John’s hand on his cheek.

“Look at me, Sherlock. Please don’t panic. I can…um…just. Damn, I got the clues wrong, didn’t I? Sorry.”

John withdraws and Sherlock’s suddenly cold, bereft of the warmth of John’s proximity. He opens his eyes. John’s standing by the window, a hand over his eyes, silently cursing himself. Sherlock walks over to him, uncertain how to proceed.

“John. What did I do wrong? I’m sorry. I should’ve congratulated you, but I was caught off guard. Didn’t observe.”

John looks over at him incredulously.

“What?” he asks.

Stupid! Stupid!

Sherlock pulls at his hair in frustration. How can he fix this? 

In the end he doesn’t have to. John, wonderful John, his conductor of light, his beloved John solves the puzzle.

He closes the gap between them, takes Sherlock’s hands and squeezes.

“I should’ve known you would go offline and draw the wrong conclusions at that outburst. It was stupid of me. I’m sorry. I was just so damn happy. No, Sherlock, don’t,” John says when Sherlock’s about to withdraw his hands.

“I’m rubbish at this aren’t I? The thing is, Sherlock. The reason I’m giving up dating, well, it’s you.”

John looks up at Sherlock, his feelings laid bare. His eyes are so full of…it can’t be, can it? Love? Surely Sherlock’s mistaken.

“John?” Sherlock whispers.

John lets go of his hands and cradles his face instead, his thumbs stroking his cheekbones. Sherlock closes his eyes and revels in the unfamiliar sensation.

“Look at you,” John murmurs. “So beautiful.”

The awe and affection in his voice, makes Sherlock shiver. He opens his eyes, feeling brave, desperately hoping he’s read the signs correctly. When their eyes meet, Sherlock knows. Knows why John’s giving up dating. It’s written all over John’s face. He lowers his head, reasting their foreheads together.

“You love me?” Sherlock asks shakily.

“God, yes, Sherlock,” John says and beams at him. “Can I kiss you?”

Sherlock doesn’t answer, but acts. He places his hands on John’s shoulders and finds John’s lips with his own. Soft and tender kisses turns deeper, and Sherlock feels like his body’s filled with fireworks. It sparkles all over. In his stomach, thighs, calves, arms, fingers, and god, when John runs his fingers through Sherlock’s hair, he moans with pleasure.

“Jesus,” John whispers reverently. “Your voice!”

***

It turns out that the two women closest to John and Sherlock had taken matters into their own hands. Both Molly and Mrs. Hudson were at their wits end when it came to the clueless men. Mrs. Hudson had warned John with more or less the same words Molly had used to get Sherlock’s attention, and in the end, it worked out perfectly.

“Witchcraft,” Sherlock mutters once he and John had compared stories.

“Well, I prefer to call it magic, my love,” John says gleefully and traces his fingers down Sherlock’s naked body.

“You’re one to talk,” Sherlock gasps as John’s fingers find his nipples.

John laughs in a low, wicked voice, and Sherlock shivers in anticipation. Witchcraft or magic, he doesn’t care. He makes a mental note to buy the two women flowers or… 

“Focus on me, Sherlock,” John whispers, and Sherlock’s nothing but obedient.

Cunning women working their magic on the boys. The story almost wrote itself when that idea emerged in my mind.

@totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @topsyturvy-turtely @peanitbear @missdeliadili