#Okay THAT is how you talk to that kind of kid. You don’t pressure him into being proud of you or call him “idiot” like what the fuck

[cailinsblog]

Could you write a fic where Jack is dating someone who knows nothing about Hockey? He likes teaches her the rules and is just sweet about it?

Omg I love this idea thank you 💕💕😻

A Journey of Love, Hockey, and Skating | jack hughes

Jack hughes x reader

Masterlist

It was a crisp autumn day when Jack Hughes, star forward for the New Jersey Devils, found himself in a dilemma. It wasn’t about hockey, contract talks, or media scrutiny — it was something far more personal. His girlfriend, Y/N, had never been to a game of his. She didn’t know the first thing about hockey, and Jack was starting to realize that he had never really taught her the ins and outs of the sport that had shaped his entire life.

Y/N and Jack had been together for a little over six months now, and though they had spent a lot of time together, their worlds never really collided when it came to hockey. She had met him through mutual friends, and while she loved him for his personality, his kindness, and his easy smile, hockey was a world she knew little about.

One evening, as they sat on the couch in his apartment, Y/N casually mentioned, “I’ve been meaning to ask… what’s the deal with icing? Like, what does that even mean?”

Jack chuckled, surprised. “You’ve been with me for months, and you’ve never asked about icing?” He raised an eyebrow, teasing her playfully.

“I don’t want to look dumb,” she admitted with a shy smile.

“Y/N, you could never look dumb,” he reassured her. “Come on, let me teach you. I’ll explain everything. Hockey 101.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I’ll need a lot of lessons, I think.”

“Don’t worry,” Jack said, his voice soft and patient. “We’ll take it slow. I’ll even show you how to skate. I want you to feel like you get it, like you’re part of it.”

The thought of skating, especially in the context of Jack’s world, made Y/N nervous. She hadn’t skated since she was a kid, and back then, she had barely been able to stay upright. Still, she loved Jack and wanted to share this part of his life with him. “Okay, I’m in,” she agreed, smiling.

### The First Lesson: Hockey 101

The next day, Jack decided to take her to a quiet rink in the city. It wasn’t a professional arena, just a simple outdoor rink where locals came to skate during the winter months. Jack wanted it to be a low-pressure environment where Y/N could relax and focus without the distraction of a crowd.

They arrived, and Jack pulled on his gear — the jersey, the skates — and Y/N stood by the bench, watching him in awe. He made it all look so effortless.

“Alright, here’s the deal,” Jack started, his hands on his hips. “In hockey, the objective is simple: score more goals than the other team. You have three periods, and each period is 20 minutes long. There’s a goalie whose job is to stop the puck, and there are five players on the ice at a time — including the goalie.”

He pointed to a few different areas on the rink. “The blue lines are where the players try to control the game, and the red line? That’s the center line. Icing happens when the puck is shot across both blue lines without anyone touching it, and it crosses the goal line. It’s a violation, and the game stops. But we’ll get into all the details later.”

Y/N nodded slowly, trying to follow along. She didn’t get all of it, but Jack had such a calm, patient way of explaining it. She didn’t feel dumb for not knowing — instead, it felt like they were creating their own little world, a space where she could learn and Jack could teach.

Jack smiled. “You’re doing great. Now, time for the fun part. Let’s get you on the ice.”

### The Skating Lesson

Y/N put on her skates, a little wobbly, and stood up. The moment her blades touched the ice, she immediately felt the unease of being unsteady. Her knees trembled, and she almost lost her balance.

“Whoa, careful!” Jack said, reaching out to steady her. He grinned. “You gotta bend your knees a little. Think of it like a squat.”

She followed his instructions, trying to stay as low as she could without falling. “Like this?” she asked, glancing up at him.

“Yeah, exactly. Now, just glide a little bit.”

Y/N pushed off tentatively, and for a second, it felt like she was floating. But then her legs went out from under her, and she collapsed onto the ice with a soft thud.

“Hey, you okay?” Jack skated over to her immediately, offering a hand. His expression was a mix of concern and amusement.

“I’m fine,” she laughed, brushing herself off. “I think I need more practice.”

Jack grinned. “No worries. I’ll take it slow. Just focus on shifting your weight and pushing off with your outside edges. That’s the trick.”

Over the next hour, Jack patiently taught her the basics of skating. He held her hands as she made tentative strides around the rink, supporting her whenever she lost her balance. It wasn’t graceful — her movements were jerky and uncertain — but Jack’s presence gave her the confidence to keep trying.

“Good job, Y/N,” he said, his voice warm and encouraging. “You’re getting it. I’m really proud of you.”

She smiled up at him, her heart swelling. “Thanks, Jack. I don’t think I would’ve gotten this far without you.”

Jack skated backward in front of her, keeping her steady with one hand on her shoulder. “This is fun. I like being here with you. Maybe next time we can practice more advanced stuff, like crossovers, but for today, you’re doing great.”

She let out a little laugh, looking at him affectionately. “I can’t believe I’m skating with Jack Hughes. This is so weird, but also amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” he said, squeezing her hand. “And you’re doing way better than you think.”

### A Quiet Moment

After a couple of hours of skating, they took a break by the rink-side, sipping hot cocoa from a small cart nearby. Y/N was still a little shaky on the ice, but she could feel herself improving, and the adrenaline from skating was starting to wear off. They sat on the wooden bench, Jack wrapping an arm around her as they watched other skaters glide by.

Jack, who usually exuded confidence on the ice, looked at her with a softness in his eyes. “You know, this is my favorite part of the game — the quiet moments. The ones when you’re with someone you love, and everything else just fades away.”

Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, her heart full. “I feel the same way. I may not know everything about hockey yet, but I love being here with you. I’m really glad you’re teaching me.”

He kissed the top of her head, his voice tender. “I’m happy you’re learning, but what makes me happiest is that you’re here. You’re not just learning the game — you’re learning a part of me.”

They sat there in comfortable silence for a while, the cold air around them only adding to the warmth they felt in each other’s presence. The rink began to clear out as the sun set behind the city skyline, casting a soft golden glow over everything.

Jack stood up and pulled her gently to her feet. “Alright, I think we’ve had enough for today. You ready to hit the ice again?”

Y/N laughed, her nerves forgotten. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

They skated hand-in-hand, slowly at first, then picking up speed, laughing as they went. Jack helped her through each little challenge, showing her how to lean into the curves and glide across the ice with more ease. As the evening wore on, she felt herself getting more confident.

By the end of the night, Y/N couldn’t believe how much she had learned. The ice no longer felt like a slippery obstacle — it was something she could share with Jack, something that had brought them closer together.

As they left the rink, Jack turned to her, his eyes sparkling. “You did amazing today, Y/N. I’m proud of you.”

Y/N smiled, leaning in to kiss him softly. “I’m proud of me too. And I’m really glad I have you to teach me.”

Jack grinned. “I’ll teach you anything. Hockey, skating, life... whatever you want. We’re in this together.”

And as they walked off into the chilly night, hand in hand, Y/N realized that it wasn’t just the rules of hockey she had learned that day — it was something far more important: how to trust, how to share, and how to love.

And with Jack by her side, she knew there was no challenge she couldn’t face, no lesson she couldn’t learn.

Please send in request

[finderseeker]

@leucoratia Thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk about him even more

First off, I’m glad this solution seems to be such a hit!! I just couldn’t reconcile the character WD was becoming/had become with what we know of Gaster. So this works well!!! (Despite the questions it raises meta-wise.)

*Rubs my hands together evilly* Okay SO! WD and his relationship with Grandpa here. I haven’t completely decided on anything just yet but I do have some Ideas. Some Notions if you will.

I think there’s pressure to get into the field from family, yes. But I don’t think it was necessarily negative pressure, if that makes sense. Like, I’m not sure it was the kind of thing where they would have been disapproving or upset if he chose some other career, per se. More that they didn’t even consider the possibility that he would choose anything else. Sans is a physicist, Papyrus is an engineer/mechanic/something like that, and they’re both very smart, but WD, oh, he’s the prodigy. He’s the golden child, even for all his quirks and rarities. An anxious disposition and weirdly long tail and unusual font and cracked lip aside, he’s got so much going for him!

I think that, likely, in their efforts to ensure that he didn’t feel any different than anyone else regarding disposition and physical traits/limitations, and that he knew he was ✨special✨ because he’s so smart, his parents probably made it all worse, actually. Not acknowledging that he was, in fact, different and unusual only made him feel more invisible. Which of course made him feel bad, because he was the main focus of his family’s attention. (‘How can I be unsatisfied with when I get so much attention compared to my brothers? Am I just spoiled?’)

He felt he had no time to goof around, no time to play, because he ought to be studying and learning more. ‘Why, with a mind like that, he surely takes after his grandfather in more than just font! Perhaps he will be the next Royal Scientist!’ said everyone. Which, y’know, gets to you as a kid.

While it was only ever meant to be encouraging, the pressure to live up to that was overwhelming. It’s not just that he’s named after his grandfather, it's not just an abstract sentiment for skeletons. He’s got his font. Which, apparently, suggests some other similarities. He’s always The Serious One among his brothers because they’re always goofing off (from his POV anyway) when they should be working! How can they be so lackadaisical? The fate of all monsters rests on them helping their grandfather; how can they be so relaxed just because they aren’t on the clock? Is their pay the only thing that matters to them!? They should be endeavoring to find solutions at all times!

So. Yeah. His mindset is very much shaped by the idea that it’s his responsibility to use his abilities to help others. It’s not as simple as letting his family down. What he wants has never been a factor in the equation, and so he doesn’t linger on it. The way he exists has already dictated his life course. It’s as simple as that. It’s not out of love for others— whether his family specifically or monsterkind at large— but rather out of obligation and responsibility. He does not feel a particularly strong affection towards monsters in general. (The opposite, actually.) He has never seen the surface, and frankly, with as dangerous as humans are, he doesn’t entirely understand why or agree with the idea that getting up there would be a good thing to begin with. But breaking the barrier is the goal that’s been put in front of him, and so that’s what he works towards. Along with the supposedly more achievable goal of “helping people,” despite that being an incredibly vague and nebulous concept with no real direction.

He’s got this whole complex about what he’s supposed to be. No one is actually stopping him from being anything else, but the barriers he’s erected in his own mind feel immovable. If he has all of this ability, how could he not use it? Everyone is relying on him to be as brilliant as his grandfather and carry this mantle, but no one understands the pressure he’s under. No one understands anything! Even Papyrus, who practically never sleeps, doesn’t appreciate why he can’t just “take a break.” If he doesn’t accomplish something, he will never be free from these expectations!

I think deep down that’s why he kind of idolizes sci-fi supervillains? All the intelligence, all the means, and they use it for their own interests! They are beholden to no one, only themselves, and even the “heroes” can never stop them for good. Sometimes, the villains have better motivations than the heroes, even. I think WD’s fantasy, subconscious or not, is being able to go completely off the rails and create and do something utterly selfish. He has some bizarre resentment, I think, against people in general. Maybe it’s envy, in the sense that they lack the burden he does. Maybe it’s some kind of frustration that they’re all just standing around, twiddling their thumbs and waiting for some kind of “salvation” from either the king or from them, the scientists responsible for every other quality of life. If this solution needs to be found so desperately, why is it being left to so few people!? Why aren’t study of human magic and other magical-scientific disciplines a required field in schools? Why is there not a requirement that all who are able work on this pressing issue!?

So. He’s got this buried, probably subconscious resentment. He’s always irritated because of it. It feels like he’s the only one taking this seriously, and therefore the only one who can do anything about it. Rather than be reassured that no one is forcing this on him, his perception is that because no one else will “take it seriously” (read: “work ceaselessly”), it must fall to him. He has to. Because otherwise it will always be hanging over his head.

Now. Grandpa Gaster definitely doesn’t approve of… any of this. (In general, not the supervillain thing. WD is taking that secret to the grave.) Gaster encourages him to take breaks and not work himself so hard. Unfortunately, despite his kindness and reassurance, WD only sees that as, “Look, this is so simple for him that he doesn’t even need to exert effort! He thinks I’m far more capable than I am, he must think I’m accomplishing more than I actually am. I have to work harder so that I can reach that level and live up to this.”

Yeah.

Gaster is quite caught up in his own work, and although he cares very much for his grandsons, I don’t think he’s entirely… connected with them. He doesn’t realize what WD is putting himself through, entirely. He just sees a bright, like-minded young man with a strong work ethic and a love for helping others! Even if he’s a bit prickly and perhaps embarrassed about it. But he’ll come around! Young people are so caught up in how they’re perceived by others; surely WD will mellow as he ages.

(Spoiler: he doesn’t. Or, he doesn’t really get the chance to.)

The biggest difference between them is that Gaster is doing this because he loves people and he loves his work. All his efforts are a labor of love. For monsters, for unity, for freedom, for the universe. WD is doing this because he feels that he must. He is not especially moved by love. He doesn’t gain a sense of purpose from this, he only feels burdened.

Gaster doesn’t quite… pick up on this. I think he would love to have a warm relationship with his grandsons, and prooooobably does more with Sans and Papyrus. WD, meanwhile, has so many self-inflicted mental barriers and blocks and restrictions and obligations that he’s created this artificial distance between them. It really, really doesn’t need to be this way, but unfortunately our perception shapes our reality, and the stronger a person believes something to be a certain way— that is, the less open they are to being wrong— the stronger they shape their reality. Someone like Gaster, who is open to different interpretations and understandings and so on, is more likely to see reality for what it is— but even he’s not infallible, because he is a singular person who has his own experiences and therefore his own perception. He thinks WD is just “at that age” (whatever that means) and is simply trying to prove something or is overly worried about what other people think of him, and that it will pass with time. He doesn’t understand that WD is torturing himself over pressure that isn’t even real.

He thinks it's so wonderful that WD wants to work with him and spend time with him, and oh, he's such a bright young man, he will surely accomplish so much! He's so proud of him.

WD is... not really capable of accepting love (in the form of acceptance or pride) from others right now, because I think he feels like he has yet to earn it, maybe? He's got this impossible standard he's trying to reach,* and he's depriving himself of everything until he can get there. (Which will be never.) He's miserable and it's all self-inflicted. It doesn't even need to be this way. ((He and Seeker (the character) have this in common I think…))

He does love his family. He loves his brothers and his parents (probably?) and his grandfather and his cousin(s). He loves them way more than he'd ever admit out loud. He's exasperated that none of them seem to Get It, but he's so convinced that he's the only one who's right that there's really no telling him otherwise. He doesn’t even know what he wants, only that he doesn’t have it and can’t have it. (Except, he can, of course, if he would just freaking calm down for a second.)

The funny (or sad) thing is that if he could just get past this thing he’s got in his mind, he’d be a much happier, more fulfilled person. If he weren’t busy stressing himself out and running himself ragged (and actually making his own anxiety worse in the process), he’d be a warm, conscientious person and a loving, attentive partner. As it stands, he’s Stress Response Central and essentially is slowly cutting himself off from the people who care about him, rather than rely on them. (This potentially includes Asteri, but their relationship is a whooole different post.)

If he keeps on this path, one of two things is going to happen: he’s either going to end up killing himself (or worse) by falling into the same thing that shattered Gaster in some desperate last-ditch attempt to Fix Everything; or he’s going to crack (no pun intended) under the pressure and burn out in an absolute fireball of metaphorical explosives.

And from the outcome where he doesn’t die/end up meeting a similar fate as his grandfather, there are two outcomes.

So, he’d burn himself out gifted kid style, but like several times worse. Has a complete breakdown and it resigns him to being stuck at home/in bed recovering his mental and emotional energy. But also being extremely depressed and probably rotting a little bit. And isolating even more, honestly.

The good ending would be him slowly recovering and making peace with not being The Only One Who Can Fix Everything, and maybe not even staying in the same field of work (if he can work anymore). The good ending also involves him being on good terms with Tempus again. (But that’s an entire can of worms I’m not touching here.) If he’s anything like me, it’s gonna take a few years (minimum) of rest and recovery after pushing himself that hard. I would not be surprised if he causes some permanent damage to himself (either mentally/emotionally or physically) that renders him unable to work/do what he used to.

The bad ending is that he rots in bed and wallows in depression and mourns the fact that he “wasn’t good enough” to stand up under the weight of everything and Fix It. And he just. stays like that. Isolating himself more and more, refusing to talk even to his brothers. And also Tempus still hates him. And that’s it that’s his whole life. The rest of it is spent mourning and regretting and reliving every decision that got him here, reflecting on all the things he deprived himself of in pursuit of his goal, only to fail and end up unable to have those things now that he has all the in the world. Self-deprivation of pleasure or enjoyment or rest, and for what? To break down under the weight of it all and have none of it anyway. He should have enjoyed what he was offered when he had the chance to accept it.

Anyway, as you can see I have a lot of feelings and thoughts about him (and this isn’t even all of them). I doubt that he resents his grandfather, but I do think that with the way things end up, he feels like a disappointment to him and there’s really no way to ever be assured otherwise because Gaster’s gone by that point. But I guess that’s part of the point, really: that you’ve gotta be okay with where you are so long as you’re doing what you can (to a reasonable degree), even if it disappoints other people. I think WD needs a lot of things but honestly I don’t even know how to begin to help him. He needs to go on vacation.

On an ENTIRELY unrelated note, I may have come up with a really funny (read: “stupid”) solution to the problem mentioned in the second half of the tags on this post.

Which isn’t what I wanted to focus on. I need to work on the stuff I already have going. But. It would be funny and unfortunately sometimes that’s the most compelling thing.

I will elaborate on what this possible solution is tomorrow.

[monkee-mobile]

Do you think Davybaby ever regressed before meeting/joining the Monkees? Either in England or after moving to America

And if so how do you think he dealt with it?

I feel like he did but to a different level. he probably never really OFFICIALLY regressed and was really of seen as a little one during it until he came to the states, but when he was particularly stressed out while still in england he’d often go into a kind of weak state if his defenses were really down, he just didn’t process it through really regressing like he would later on. in england, he’d try his absolute hardest not to have that happen. he’d just feel really small and vulnerable and had no one there to protect him or help him through it except his sisters, but they didn’t jump right to babying him, they’d more just help him through the panic attack part of it all. usually he’d just lock himself in his room if he couldn’t brave through it and curl in on himself and sob until he fell asleep (poor thing). he’d often start sucking his thumb, but he just took that as a “weak” behavior that was just coming back from his childhood. He’d also often go pretty nonverbal for a while afterwards but he’d push through it all and move on (which definitely wasn’t the best for him, but it got him through that time. poor little guy didn’t face his own emotions at all). this kind of shutdown didn’t happen all that often cause davy worked hard to build a tough shell and braved it through all the way to when he moved to america and got out of the pressures of his family.

the move really did break him down because suddenly he was alone in a strange country so when the boys first met him he was definitely flighty and not the suave kind of guy he got to be once he became more comfortable, but they were all new to each other so davy didn’t really have a chance to feel super safe to just let himself feel things so he kept up the hard exterior he had built at first. but of course the monkees became very comfortable with each other and basically climb all over each other at all moments so davy started going “feral toddler mode” a lot where he would just go all silly and giggly and playful, so his comfort came through in a relatively childlike way, but he didn’t panic regress until a while after the guys were a group.

but eventually it happens and davy breaks down really hard at some point. it’s the boys who really start babying him when it happens. in the past he didn’t have anyone to really take care of him but things kind of clicked when he was held and talked to softly and he just sunk into the love that was given to him and it helped him process everything anew.

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Moral of Casanova (2005):

Don’t emotionally neglect your child with selective mutism or take them to public executions.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.4K] request from anon: what about Steve teaching reader how to really kiss? Like she’s only ever had bad ones before? 

“Sloppy?” Steve grimaced, smiling through your word choice despite the disappointment he felt for you. 

You shrugged, nose crinkled as you remembered. “Yeah. Wet, y’know? And not like— it was just too much…tongue.”

There was a silence, a sad kind that filled the room. Steve wasn’t sure what to say. You kind of regretted telling the boy. So you sighed and shrugged it off again, biting the head off of red Sour Patch Kid.

“Maybe I just don’t like making out,” you sounded defeated and Steve hated it, frowning as he watched you chew your candy mournfully, your back pressed to the side of his unmade bed. “That’s normal, right? Like, some people just don’t like things like that and—”

“Hey, hey,” Steve knocked his foot against yours, legs stretched out across his bedroom floor. The pack of playing cards had been abandoned beside some unopened twizzlers and Steve’s can of cherry soda. “Look, of course that’s normal. And— and if that’s how you feel, that’s totally okay, alright?”

The boy hesitated, worried his bottom lip between his teeth and wondered if he should keep talking. You watched him, brows raised expectantly. 

“I just think—” Steve cleared his throat, his pointer finger dragging patterned across his carpet. He shrugged, all faux nonchalance. He didn’t want to sound like a creep, not to his best friend. Not to you. “I just think that maybe you’ve not had a good kiss, y’know?”

You didn’t answer, not right away. And Steve didn’t try and backtrack, or explain himself, he just waited, watching you think. His bedroom window was open, the sounds of the early evening slipping through. Someone’s backyard pool filter, their sprinklers out the front, the quiet spin of a kids bike going down the sidewalk.  

You didn’t look at Steve when you finally asked, “well, what is a good kiss?”

You felt stupid, asking such a thing at your age but maybe you’d grown up picking all the wrong kinds of guys. Impatient boys, greedy boys, selfish boys. Boys who turned into men who didn’t have the time of day to take it slow with a girl like you. Boys who thought they were men, who used too much teeth and tongue and pressure and tasted like cheap party beer and the leftover smoke of their cigarette. 

Guys who got too handsy too quick, guys who didn’t care that when they pulled away from your lips, you swiped the back of your hand over your mouth and tried not to frown. 

Steve shifted a little, cheeks turning pink as his eyes found yours. “Well,” he gestured at you, awkward. His gaze settled on your lips before he blinked and looked away. “I mean, it helps when you really like the person, y’know? The uh, the chemistry of it all.”

You swallowed, throat feeling tight, chest feeling too warm. You remember Nancy talking about those kinds of feelings when she first kissed Jonathan, a dopey, soft smile on her lips as she recounted it, telling you of the buzz under her skin, the flips that her stomach did when he leaned in to meet her, eyes closing. 

“Sure,” you agreed. You don’t think you’d ever felt that way about the boys you had kissed. “Right.”  

“But I guess you’re supposed to take your time with it? I mean, at first, when you’re getting to know someone.” Steve smiled, soft, reassuring. His knee knocked yours. “You find out what they like.”

“What they like?” You asked, voice cracking a little. You didn’t know where to look, what to do with your hands. You picked up a green sour patch and bit its leg. “What does that mean?”

Steve looked bashful, miles apart from the boy you’d know in high school, with a girl on his arm in the hallways, a different one in his lap at a party that weekend. 

“I’d, uh, I mean— person A would go slow with person B, right? They’d start soft. Gentle, I guess? You gotta— they’d have to figure out how the other person likes to be kissed. Not everyone shoves their tongue down your throat, y’know.”

You huffed out a laugh but it sounded weak, too breathy. You wanted the boy to keep talking, you wanted to watch his pink cheeks and his pretty eyes dart across your face, like he was searching for something. 

You wondered if he’d find it. 

“Not everyone?” You whispered. 

“No,” Steve shook his head, his smile wry. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and he was closer now, closer than before and you could smell his cologne, the cherry soda fizz that hung in the air along with Mr Jackson’s freshly mown grass. “No, no, not everyone. I’d give the girl a peck at first, yeah? Just something PG-13. Then, when she relaxes and you know, she moves closer, kisses me back, I’d—”

Steve broke off, blinking like he was getting rid of something hazy. He’d been looking at you as he spoke, words coming too easy, the air between you both warm despite the setting sun. He licked his lips, suddenly nervous, awkward again, a bashful thing that made him suddenly even more endearing than you thought he ever could be. 

“You’d what, Steve?” You blinked, feeling warm, wondering if the boy could tell. You didn’t know what to do so you moved, leaning forward until you could fold your legs underneath yourself and your thigh bumped Steve’s shin. “You’d what?”

Steve’s eyes searched yours, his gaze falling to your lips and back again. You thought he found it then, that thing he seemed to be looking for. Because he cleared his throat and let one hand fall to the carpet between you, his fingers brushing over your socked toes and you almost jumped at the contact. 

The silence was too loud now. 

“I could show you, if you wanted.”

Someone’s lawn mower started up a few yards over, white noise buzzing in the distance as you tried to take in what Steve had just said. He was watching you, head tilted to the side, cheeks still rosy and when you looked at him carefully, you could see the barely concealed panic in his brown eyes. 

He pressed his lips together and tried to smile, tight and nervous and he was picking at the carpet, fingers fidgeting as you sat there dumbly. You heard the shake in his voice when he tried to say, “I am—,” he choked on his words, panicked. “—so, so sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“Steve,” you stopped the boy with a hand on his shin, your warm palm against the denim. “We’re friends, right?”

The word seemed to burn on your tongue, like it tasted like a lie, like it was as dangerous as one. You waited, breath held, wondering if you wanted Steve to agree or not. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, suddenly so serious. “Yeah, yeah, ‘course we are.” He worried at his bottom lip again, looking at your own. “Best friends.”

You nodded, tongue feeling too big for your mouth to speak. Words felt clumsy, your skin too warm. Buzzing. Fizzing. You weren’t sure if it was you or the air. 

“Show me.”

You thought Steve would maybe hesitate, maybe he’d back out or shout, ‘got you!’ like those prank shows Dustin liked to watch. You thought he’d maybe lay down some rules, maybe he’d tell you how this didn’t mean anything and really, he was only doing his sad friend a favour. 

He didn’t do any of that. In fact he didn’t say anything else at all. Steve just let out a breath and nodded once, almost to himself before he let his hand curl around the back of your calf and he tugged, gentle. 

He lifted his chin, a casual ‘c’mere’ that had your heart thundering and you wondered if this confidence, this way of acting so sure of himself, was how he got all the girls. 

A quiet sort of assertiveness that made your stomach flip inside out. 

You unfurled yourself from your sitting position, shuffling to your knees as you moved across Steve’s bedroom floor, bare shins burning against the carpet. You leaned back on your heels, brought yourself down to Steve’s level where he sat against his wall, legs stretched out before him. 

He didn’t warn you when he brought his hand to your face, fingers cupping your cheek and his thumb brushed the corner of your mouth and you were suddenly left wondering when Steve’s hands had gotten so big. You’d watched him grow, from a middle school kid to king Steve the senior. You’d seen the new muscles, the height, the hair. You’d never noticed his hands before but now they were on you, it’s all you could think about.

Dizzy. You felt dizzy. 

“Okay?” Was all he asked, voice softer and quieter now he was so much closer. 

You nodded, face too warm and licking across your bottom lip like a reflex. You weren’t sure where to look. Or where to put your hands. Most kisses you’d shared had happened in the crowds at parties or in the front seat of a boy’s car after a date. You usually lay your palms on their shoulders, holding on and wondering if every boy took these opportunities to grope your ass like a pile of dough. 

“We can stop,” Steve told you. He looked nervous and if anything, it made you feel more anxious than ever. “Whenever you want, ‘kay?” 

You nodded again, unable to really speak, too scared that your voice would crack or something equally stupid would happen. And maybe Steve knew this, maybe he knew you so much better than you ever thought he would, because he smiled and nodded too. 

“Okay,” he announced, quiet and soft and he was moving closer, noses bumping, his eyes fluttering shut. “Here goes.”

“Wait.”

Steve paused, gaze back on your own and he looked concerned, he looked worried and before he could ask you what was wrong you were sucking in a panicked breath and asking: “what if I’m the bad kisser?”

“What?” Steve let out a laugh, breathy and disbelieving and he was still so close, his hand on your jaw and his thumb rubbing absentmindedly over the apple of your cheek. He was shaking his head, smiling, looking too pretty and suddenly this seemed like a monumental thing, something gargantuan. “No, there’s no way.”

You squirmed on the floor, shifting further and then closer and Steve loosened his hold on you but you didn’t go anywhere. You just blinked at him, pained with worry. “How could you know?”

Steve paused as he thought and you wondered if he had an answer, if he was going to say something truthful or he was simply thinking of something sweet to say to placate you. Instead, he looked into your eyes and seemed to search for that… thing, again. 

I— I just—” Steve didn’t say anything, he didn’t give you an explanation or a reason. 

He simply pressed his lips to yours. 

It was chaste and sweet and entirely innocent, lips closed and nothing close to scandalous. But then he parted from you just a breath, looking at you from heavy lidded eyes, watching you from beneath his lashes. And when you didn’t move, you didn’t panic, Steve leaned in again, kissing you the same way until he nudged your chin up with his hand and his lips slotted between your own. 

He moved slowly, carefully, with a practised ease that made your toes curl and it was still sweet, it made your tummy warm and your head spin and Steve’s lips were soft, tasting like cherry soda and sugar. 

You caught up after a beat or two, your hand that wasn’t braced on the floor reaching up to cling to where you could reach. Your fingers found the collar of Steve’s t-shirt, fisting the soft material and doing everything to make sure he didn’t move away. You moved with him, lips meeting and parting over and over until Steve sucked in a breath and tilted his head to the other side, pressing closer, a little deeper. 

After another soft peck, he pulled away, eyes still closed and his thumb on your chin as he whispered, voice hoarse. “See? Nothin’ to worry about.” He brushed your hair behind your ear, pressed his fingers under your jaw. “And now, a guy should be testing the waters, right?”

“They should?” You whispered back. Your eyes were still closed too, your fingers sneaking up past Steve’s collar to stroke at the skin at the base of his throat, experimental, adventurous. “How’d they do that?”

You were sure you felt the boy smile, sensed it. A warm breath across your lips as he moved closer again. “Like this—” 

Another kiss, the same as before, once, twice and then Steve was parting his mouth over your own and letting the tip of his tongue lick over your bottom lip. It was a fleeting touch, a zap, a buzz, a tingle down your spine and you gasped without thinking about it, lips parting for the boy and you followed suit, tongue moving past Steve’s lips to meet his own. 

He groaned then, a vibration against you, his hand skating back from your cheek to thread into your hair and he let his tongue move over your own, lips clicking every time they parted. It was slower than you’d been kissed before, something sensual about it despite being sat on your best friend’s bedroom floor and it made your insides somersault, the skin where Steve slouched burning. 

“Told you,” he murmured, breath heavy as he spoke. “Nothing to worry about,” he repeated and when you finally opened your eyes to look at him, face blazing with heat, Steve was looking at you like he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

“Mhmm,” you agreed, barely listening, eyes still on the boy’s mouth, fingering the collar of his shirt, not ready to let go yet. “You must be a good teacher, or something.”

Steve looked distracted, Adam’s apple bobbing, gaze on your lips too. You weren’t sure he had stopped looking at them. “Yeah, yeah. Or something.” He swallowed, throat tight. “Do you wanna stop? Or—?”

“No,” you said, maybe too quickly. “Do you?”

“God, no,” Steve agreed just as fast. “You can keep going— just— what do you want…?”

Steve’s words died on his lips as you moved suddenly, rising to your knees only to push Steve back to the wall. His hands fell to his sides, hovering in mid air as he stared, watching as you swung a leg over his knees and sat carefully on his lap. You were cautious, more on his thighs that closer to anything else but you tried to breathe evenly as you took in the position. 

“Okay?” You asked him, voice caught sticky in your throat with nerves but Steve nodded, head bobbing hurriedly. You sucked in a breath, smoothing your hands over Steve’s shoulders before you did as he had, smoothing them up the sides of his neck and holding his jaw carefully. “What do I do now?”

‘Whatever you want,’ Steve wanted to beg. But apparently this was a lesson of sorts and he  had something to teach you. So he cleared his throat to make sure his voice wouldn’t crack and held your hips, hands gentle and polite. “You, uh, you find out what I like.”

You nails scratched at the back of his neck, unconsciously. You licked your lips. “How do I do that?”

Steve’s hands flexed on your hips, climbing to your waist, holding you a little tighter. Something seemed to shift then, his eyes lighting up. He looked like he was ready to fight, like you’d asked him if he were up for a challenge. It made you grin. 

“Kiss me.”

 So you did. 

You did as Steve had at the start, kissing him soft and slow and chaste, pulling away before he could catch you, teasing, nose bumping his and breaths mixing, cherry soda to fizzy candy. And just before Steve was about to groan, frustrated, you shifted closer, chest pressed to his and you parted your lips, catching his bottom lip between your own. 

It was a greedier kiss and Steve let his head fall back against the wall with a dull thunk, opening his mouth for you, nails digging into your sides when you licked over his tongue, exploratory, gentle. You felt him nod, the tip of his nose smushed to your cheek and you smiled, amused at his praise. 

“Like that?” You asked, breathless, barley parting from him to speak. 

“Yeah, like that,” Steve agreed, sounding just as wrecked. “Keep going, please.”

He didn’t have to ask again. Fuck, he didn’t even have to ask as nicely as he did because you were back on him in a heartbeat, kissing your best friend like you didn’t want him to remember anyone else. 

“Slower,” he whispered, muttering instructions against your mouth and you didn’t feel scolded, you didn’t feel embarrassed you just followed Steve’s instructions, pulling back slightly to kiss him softer, lips moving with his slower, slower, slower. 

You heard him groan, felt his chest rumble and his hands squeeze at you in silent praise and you knew then he liked it like that, liked to be teased. You nosed at his cheek, did as he had done and pushed your thumb under his jaw to bring his mouth up to yours, his head tipping back, back, back. You pecked over his cheeks then, over the bridge of his nose and at the corner of his lips until he was panting, waiting for you. 

“Yeah?” Was all you asked. 

“Yeah,” he hummed, feeling like he was vibrating. He let his eyes shutter closed, waiting for your next touch. “Yeah.”

You felt bolder, brazen, pushing your lips back to Steve’s and when you pulled away this time, you nipped at the boy’s bottom lip, pulling at it gently with your teeth and until it popped softly back into place and Steve swore, he cursed, he grunted and his hips shifted under yours. 

“You like that,” you noted with a smile and it wasn’t a question. 

Steve didn’t speak, he couldn’t. Instead he stared up at you and nodded, dazed, throat bobbing as he swallowed tightly and tried to get himself under control. 

You moved into each other again without discussion, an unconscious need that didn’t need a conversation. Your hands went to his hair, holding onto the messy ends at the nape of his neck as his travelled the expanse of your back, fingertips lifting the hem of your shirt every downstroke, his skin on yours. It was enough for you to make soft noises against him, nudging closer and Steve helped, his hands pulling at your waist until your chest pressed against his and were seated over his crotch. 

You felt him then, hard and pressed underneath his jeans and it made you kiss him like you had something to prove, mouths moving together, open and panting, tongues touching teasingly, teeth grazing against lips to try and make the other moan louder. 

And when Steve’s garage door opened, a groaning, grating sound below his window, it was an interruption that told you both his father had arrived home. 

You slid from his lap, chest heaving and eyes heavy on Steve’s pink cheeks. His lips were shiny from your work, his hands leaving your waist at the very last second, your butt hitting his carpet rather ungracefully as you backed away, suddenly so aware of the line that had been crossed. 

You were burning still, an ache between your legs that hadn’t quite been satisfied and your lips buzzed from Steve’s kisses, the slow, careful way he’d pressed his to your own. He’d paid attention, you realised, picked up on every noise you made, every shift against him, the way you kissed him back eagerly when he did something you liked. And you’d done the same, taking in his gasps and sighs, stomach flipping when his hips bucked and his chest moved a little quicker than before. 

Your fingers touched your bottom lip before you pressed the back of your hand to it, as if to hide the evidence. Steve was still staring at you, panting, doing nothing to hide the obvious bulge in his jeans. 

And when his front door opened and closed and you could hear his fathers footsteps lead into his office, Steve stayed quiet. Only when the sound of the door clicking shut filled the silent house did he smile, boyish and all charm.

“See?” He reminded you, cheeks still burning. His hair was a mess from where you’d pulled on it. He looked rumpled, undone at the seams. “Told you, you weren’t a bad kisser.”

[pepperyduck]

“parenting class” with kei tsukishima

this is part six of my kinktober event :3

word count: 1.5k

warnings: nsfw, timeskip tsukishima, breeding, talks about pregnancy, tsukki is maybe a little bit bad!, finishing inside, unprotected p in v. 18+ mdni!

notes: who tf was gonna tell me pregnancy scares are real

kinktober masterlist | masterlist

kei tsukishima didn’t know what had come over him.

personally, he blamed that stupid parenting class that was required, for some reason. kei thought it was idiotic, but he needed it to graduate. and they absolutely doomed him when they put both of you in class together.

there was something about you, his sweet, beautiful and kind girlfriend that had already won his heart a million times over, doing things that a mom would do. of course, they provided those dumb dolls that cried and stuff—but you seemed to be able to calm the robot baby down instantly. the smallest appearance of a smile came over his face when you’d bounce the doll in your arms, or feed it the fake food.

god forbid when they made you wear that horrible pregnancy vest, because it gave your boyfriend terribly amazing imagery of what you’d actually look like carrying his child. maybe he was weird for it, but after the few weeks of that class was over, kei couldn’t stop himself from only thinking about one thing;

getting you pregnant.

he hadn’t ever been the dad type, until now.

“do you want kids?” tsukishima had asked you, all the while focused on a homework assignment. the question was one you hadn’t talked about before. it took you by surprise, obviously, and you wondered if it was something your tsukki wanted, too.

“if you want them, yeah.”

and that reply is what led kei to his current position, deciding between two ways the both of your lives could go. but as you laid there in his dorm room, trapped under his arms, all the excuses he could make for what he was about to do ran through his head. both of you were adults, set to graduate college in a few months, along with jobs lined up the second you got your diplomas. he already had a ring for you, he’d decided he was going to marry you a long time ago—

what did he have to lose?

“are you okay? you seem out of it, tsukki,” you say, running your fingers through your boyfriend’s blond locks. you had been waiting for a few minutes now, and all kei was doing was staring down at you, the look in his eyes gradually shifting over time.

“mhm.” is the only reply you get out of him, but he finally starts to move his eyes up and down your face, skimming over your lips and soft cheeks. kei felt like he could moan aloud when you wrap your arms behind his neck and lean up to give him a small peck.

he loved how sweet you were to him, a stark contrast in his own personality. he was never one to show affection in many ways, but you made up for it with the amount of affection you gave him. you had kei wrapped around your little finger, and boy, did he know it.

wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull kei in impossibly closer, the warmth in between your legs now was prodded at by the tent in your boyfriend’s boxers. kei harshly sucks air through his teeth at the pressure, absentmindedly rutting against you, feeling your panties and the dampness behind them, absolutely soaked. kei could tell.

“i don’t have a condom,” he remarks, subtly watching how you’d react.

“oh—um, it’s okay,” you reply almost instantaneously, “i’m on birth control, tsukki.”

damn it.

tsukishima nods his head, leaning up to allow space for the both of you to strip away the clothing that was keeping him from being inside of you. scooting back on the bed, you allow him room to join you. kei climbs up on the mattress with you, slotting himself between your already spread thighs, cock immediately pressing against the warm wetness of your cunt. you whine at the teasing, though it isn’t intentional, and kei hushes your noises with a sweet kiss.

as your lips lock and your skin becomes warmer at your lover’s contact, kei’s slender hands come to grab under your thighs, situating you in a rather unexplored position—a mating press. his head draws back again, just to take in the sight of you; in his shirt, and rather everything else completely exposed to him. the small light coming from his desk lamp illuminates you perfectly, shows off how soft you are to kei, the perfect body to carry his kids—

“kei,” you whine, “are you sure you’re okay?” your question is half concern and half desperation, wanting him to either move or tell you he isn’t horny; though, the raging erection he has would say otherwise. “if you don’t wanna do it, we don’t have to—oh!”

your rambling is cut off by a harsh thrust inside, kei wasting no time to completely insert himself into you. he was never one to be too rough, maybe a little erratic, but never completely silent and impatient. you can tell there is no patience left in your boyfriend, with how he immediately begins a grueling, fast pace, slamming his length into you with unrelenting force. your pretty little brain, usually so sweet and composed, has no time to think about what’s got him so worked up, because he has you yelping out within only a few seconds.

“kei—kei!” you chant his name, it’s falling off your lips like a routine prayer, stuck on loop like a broken record.

kei’s knees dig into the fabric of his sheets, his thighs completely straightened, and it feels like he is using every bit of strength to wind his hips up and violently slam them back into you. becoming so fond of this position, you can feel him in new depths, as the slit of his cock taps – no, angrily impales – your cervix. he’s no longer calculated, or sweet, whatever had gotten into kei had made the man completely animalistic.

syrupy, soaked walls clamp around his length ridiculously tighter with every meeting of your hips, and you mewl. the first remnants of sweat creep on your boyfriend’s hairline, his glasses are beginning to slip down his nose, he’s almost silently panting. when your eyes aren’t squeezed shut, you can see the blank, mean expression settled on tsukishima’s features; it wasn’t a softened version of his face like normal.

“feels s’good, tsukki!” you manage to stammer out, arms flailing to the pillow you rested your head on to hold.

“yeah?” followed by a grunt is the only reply, the only words tsukki has given you the entire interaction. he usually liked to tease you, or have more remarks when you babbled on about how good he felt. but no, not now. not when he could feel himself getting closer from the death grip your pussy has on him, not when he can feel himself about to knock you up. “look at me.”

your eyes shoot open, despite the signals from your body telling you to keep them closed, lose yourself in the pleasure. you wouldn’t dare to disobey your boyfriend, not like this. so, of course, you lock your eyes with his, his cock still bullying its way deeper into you. kei savors the scrunched up, dirty look on your face, that of one he hasn’t seen before.

were you enjoying this that much? even if you didn’t know his intentions, were you finding pleasure in the thought of getting pregnant now, by him?

“i’m gonna finish inside,” kei states, and it’s not a request, nor a demand. it’s a simple statement, something he is going to do. you’re able to notice the passion, the need in his voice. and you think, for just a moment, that you understand his intentions.

however, the rough pounding he’s giving you leaves no time for thought.

“mm—finish in me, tsukki,” you motivate him, trying your damnedest to maintain the eye contact with him, “m’gonna cum too!” your voice pitches higher, and kei’s sure whoever’s trying to sleep on the other side of the wall probably hates him right now. but he doesn’t really care, no. he’s determined.

“yeah? close, hmm?” tsukishima teases, finally, in between heavy pants. you nod your head pathetically, not even asking for permission as you clench around him again and cum all over his cock. he’s learned you so well, he can tell when you cum, and he only speeds up the pace of his thrusting to fuck you through it.

at the sound of your pretty noises, kei loses himself, letting the feeling inside snap. thick, white ropes of his cum fly out and stick to your insides, you can feel the extra warmth from it all—it’s hotter than your insides, somehow. even as his pace slows, the thrusts remain just as hard; fucking into you all the way, he’s overstimulating the both of you. all for his greedy, reckless desires.

something had gotten into kei tsukishima, and he knew what it was now. it was all an insatiable, needy scratch inside his brain, only to be helped when in a few weeks, you take that plastic test in the bathroom of his dorm, and those two pink lines show up. he’d only be helped then.

[latin5mamii]

thoughts about the future

warnings: fluff🥹🥹

genre: Jude Bellingham x you

summary: Rainy days without anything to do or think about bring the cutesiest thoughts about the future...

author's note: okay sto i love this

The rain drummed relentlessly against the window of your living room, yet its steady rhythm seemed to fill the silence between the two of you, even though there were no words left to say. You cherished these kinds of days: nothing pressing to do and no demands on your time.

Nestled together on the large sofa, simply enjoying each other's company felt like the perfect choice.Jude's arm was draped around your shoulders, pulling you close against his side. You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His free hand traced gentle patterns on your arm, sending little shivers of warmth through your body. You shifted slightly, turning to face Jude more directly, your fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.

"What do you think our life will be like in ten years?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jude's eyes softened as he gazed down at you. "I hope it's a lot like this. Just you and me, happy and in love, maybe with a couple of kids running around."

Just the thought gives you butterflies in your stomach. You had never talked about having a family with Jude, even if you wanted to. You didn't want to pressure him obviously, but becoming a mother was one of your biggest dreams, if not the biggest. .Just thinking about how Jude would be a good father made you want to have a baby now.

"Do you want children? How many?" You ask curiously, the excitement can be felt in your gaze.

"I'd like to have at least two, but I've always wanted a big family, you know?" You can tell his mind is trying to imagine the future.

"Why do you ask me that?" You can almost see a smirk he tries to hide, you giggle slightly and hold him tighter.

“I don't know. But you're making me want to have a kid now.” He looks relaxed, not upset by your statement or anything. You can even tell he looks pretty proud.

"With me?" He says with a smirk on his lips.

"With who if not you?" You say, laughing at his somewhat stupid question.

“We can work on it ,if you want.” 

You thought he was joking, but he had a serious look on his face.

"Are you serious?”

"Why shouldn't I be? Or do you want to get married first?"

You laughed softly, the sound mingling with the rhythm of the rain. “I don’t know, I just thought you’d want to do things in the traditional order.”

Jude’s gaze softened further, his fingers tracing the outline of your face. “I want to do things in our order. If you want a baby now, let’s have a baby now. If you want to get married first, let’s plan a wedding. Whatever makes you happy.”

You felt a bit of excitement, you’ve been together with Jude for a few years now and you’re now so happy that he wants to have a family with you. “Let’s start with the baby,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a hint of nervousness.

He pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your forehead.You can feel and imagine his mischievous smirk. “A baby it is, then”

[bluejutdae]

• friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Jeongin x Noona!reader

Chan , Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung , Felix, Seungmin

genre: friends to lovers

Warnings: none

The restaurant is nice, the food is delicious. Your date is horrible.

That’s what you get for trusting dating apps and giving in the peer pressure of your colleagues and downloading the aforementioned app. On paper, this guy is perfect: tall, pretty, loves animals and has an interesting job. In reality he’s an incel and, despite your protests, decided to sit on your side of the table so he can try and cop a feel every now and then.

You even tried texting Changbin for an easy way out of this date but your friend isn’t answering. It would have been useful having him here, since he’s good at looking like a bad guy… and his arms and shoulders help a lot. You have half a mind to text Chan, or Minho, since they’re also good at scaring people off, but you’re not sure you want to bother them.

The one person you’re absolutely not going to text (and not going to tell about this date to) is Jeongin. It’s already awkward enough that you have a massive crush on him, you’re not going to ask him to rescue you.

Your crush will go away eventually. Doesn’t matter that you could celebrate its first birthday in just a few weeks, it’s just a silly little crush. This is what you tell yourself, at least.

Your feeling started growing little by little but, the moment you realized, you also realized you were fucked. And not in a fun way. Why did you have to fall for the pretty, younger, talented guy who is guarded by 7 hyungs like they’re bodyguards? On top of this, you’re pretty sure Minho’s onto you. You can see it in his eyes anytime you laugh a little too loud at Jeongin’s jokes and you look at him a little too long.

Unbeknown to you, Jeongin is looking at you right now. And he’s boiling. He’s so ready to jump the guy that keeps scooting closer to you, uncaring of the fact that you keep scooting away from him. The same guy keeps touching your arm and your hair despite you asking him not to do it.

Jeongin is a time bomb. And he’d have intervened sooner, but how is he going to explain the fact that he’s here because he followed you after he heard you talking about going on a date? One thing is having a crush on his noona, another thing is following her to make sure she’s not going home with her date safe.

To Jeongin, his noona is so pretty, so kind, so perfect, no one deserves her.

Sadly, not even him.

Not that he has a chance.

He can’t forbid you to go on dates, but he can make sure you’re okay and that you’re gonna think of him while you’re with other guys. So he takes out his phone and quickly types a text.

You spot Jeongin in the restaurant and a thousand questions start wandering in your mind. Why is he here? And why did he text you knowing you were there? What was that about the guy being a loser? In your peripheral vision you see him pay for his dinner and come closer to your table, so you prepare yourself to pretend he’s your cousin or friend whom you haven’t seen in a while and you want to catch up with. What you don’t expect is for him to sit so close to you he’s almost in your lap, with an arm around your shoulders and a sexy smirk on his face.

“Noona, you’re too pretty to be wasting time with this guy.” he says, and his voice is loud, too loud. Your date starts to protest his words and ask questions, but you’re too taken aback by Jeongin’s behavior to answer. The younger guy is cocky, his usually cute smile is now a cruel smirk when directed to your date and when directed to you is… flirtatious?

“Innie” your tone is almost admonishing, but you don’t really have it in you to reprimand him.

“And who is this kid?” asks your date, after having tossed his napkin on the table. His stand is one of dare towards Jeongin and his tone is provocative.

“This kid is the one who’s taking her home.” Jeongin replies, a mocking smile on his lips. It’s time you step in, or this can get ugly way too fast. With a hand on Jeongin’s shoulder you try to tell him to tone it down a little and with a polite and contrite expression you turn to your date. “I think our night should end here. I’m sorry if I’ve wasted your time, but we’re not really a good fit.”

“And you’re really gonna go home with this kid?” You take a deep breath. You might put up with someone insulting you, but you don’t like the tone he’s using to talk about Jeongin. You roll your eyes and signal Jeongin to get up so you can leave. Reaching into your purse you grab your wallet to pay for dinner. “Yes, I'm gonna go home with him. Try to be less of a creepy pushy asshole and maybe one day some girl might consider going home with you. In the meantime, I hope women will recognize quickly what type of men you are.”

You grab Innie’s hand, who in the meantime is giving the guy a gloating smile, and make him follow you outside or the restaurant. You try to let his hand go but he holds your with determination and leads you to a close playground. You sit on the swings and for a minute you’re silent, swinging in the night, enjoying the fresh air.

“I need you to explain, Innie.”

“Do I have to, Noona?” What is he going to tell you? The truth or a lie? You nod in his direction and then occupy yourself with trying to spot a few stars in the night sky, waiting for him to explain. He seems to think about what to say, hands fidgeting in his lap and his teeth worrying his lip.

“I followed you.” Your head turns towards him so fast you give yourself whiplash. “You what?”

“I was worried! You decided to go on a date with a guy you met on a dating app!” His tone sounds accusing, but you know him enough to know there’s something more. “And I was right. The guy was an asshole. I wanted to punch him when he kept touching you even though you tried to get at a safe distance.”

“Innie… I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself. You don’t have to worry about me. You don’t have to… to protect me.” He makes a face like he just ate something he hates. “How did you even find out about the date?”

“I heard you talking on the phone. Sorry I followed you.”“It’s okay, just don’t do it anymore, uh? Let Noona worry for you, not the opposite. I’m the older one.”

You thought it was the right thing to say, but apparently it was not, because Jeongin stopped swinging on his swing and he’s making an expression you don’t want to see in his face. He looks sad and almost in pain.“Jeonginnie?” You ask in a tiny voice, trying to understand what was that you said that can justify his reaction.

“Is this all I’ll ever be? Just a dongsaeng?” He kicks softly at the sand at your feet, head bowed down and words hushed.

“What do you mean? You’re my dongsaeng. Why is that bad?” He shakes his head and doesn’t answer but you can hear him sigh.

“It’s not bad, just…” he shakes his head again and gets up. “Never mind. Let’s go.”

“Wait, Jeongin…” despite your words, he keeps slowly walking away from you, so you follow him quickly until you reach him. Walking side by side you try to think back to yours and his words, but you can’t seem to grasp the problem.

“Jeongin, what’s wrong?” He keeps walking and when you try to hold his hand to slow him down and face him, he takes it away. Uh, this hurts.

“Innie, c’mon, talk to me. Noona’s sorry, okay? Tell me what I did wrong and I’ll fix it.” Maybe he’s angry he feels like he has to watch your back? “I won’t make you worry anymore, that’s my job since I’m older.” The moment your last word is out of your mouth, he stops on his track.

“Stop saying that, you’re making it worse!” He's loud now. Which isn’t uncommon, but not in this kind of circumstances.

“I don’t understand.”

A gust of wind makes you shiver and, to fight the sudden cold, you hug yourself. You hate fighting with Jeongin, and luckily it doesn’t happen often, but now you’re having an hard time understanding what even the fight is about.

Seeing you shiver, Jeongin takes off his jacket and puts it on your shoulders. “No, Innie. You’ll be cold like that, you need it more than I do!” He holds it around your shoulder with more force.

“Stop, stop, stop it! Stop treating me like a kid. I know I’m younger and I’m just a kid but stop always making it so painfully obvious. I know I’ll never be more than your dongsaeng, I know you’ll never look at me and see a man, but fuck, stop doing this all the time. Once, just once, let me take care of you. Let me be something more than just a kid in your eyes.”

“But-“

“No, I get it, okay? It’s embarrassing knowing a younger guy has a crush on you, you probably laugh about it with your other friends because it’s pathetic, I’m pathetic, but Noona… today I got to help you and I was so proud of myself but then that asshole called me a kid and you didn’t correct him. And I realized that, no matter how hard I try, I’ll always be just a kid to you.”

Being young, being considered the youngest and therefore the one who needs coddling and help is one of the things he hates the most. And you knew, you talked about how he hates being babied by his hyungs. You prided yourself for being someone who wouldn’t treat him like that. Yes, you let him get away with things cause he’s endearing and your dongsaeng, but you didn’t realize you’re part of the problem.

On one thing he’s wrong, tho. You don’t see him as a kid, you do consider him a man, but telling him wouldn’t be effective. So you do the next best thing you think will send the right message. You kiss him.

His lips are warm against yours and, after the initial shock, he’s kissing you back. Your hands raise to reach around his neck and rest there, holding him close to you

Soon, too soon, he’s moving away a little to look at you.

“What’s this?”

“You’re wrong about something, Jeonginnie. I’ve always looked at you and seen a man. I didn’t know you have a crush on me, or I would have done this sooner. Because I have a crush on you. And I felt like I had no right to want you.”

His smile is blinding, and you love to see him like this.

“You have a crush on me, Noona?”

“I do. Is that okay?” Instead of answering you with words, he kisses you again and his smile can be felt in the kiss.

“Innie, I know you’re not a kid. But can I still call you my baby?” The wind carries his laugh and you feel so happy you want to dance.

“As long as I’m yours, you can call me whatever you want.”

Hand in hand, his jacket still on your shoulders, you walk home and you’re the happiest you’ve been in a while.

(The day after, he wakes up with a sore throat and a mild fever. You don’t have it in you to scold him, and you promised yourself not to baby him, so you let his hyungs do that and you play the role of a good girlfriend and you cuddle him in his bed.

When Minho enters the room and sees you this close, you swear he’s threatening you in Morse code or telepathically: if you hurt him, you’ll have to answer to us all. But you’ll do the same, so you nod and give him a little smile. Deal.)

[lady-ashfade]

Blood And Pressure

Part one

Yandere!Pjo x Fem!Grisha!reader. (Platonic Yandere gods) (romantic!various characters)

-♡ Chapters: Previous // Next

-♡ characters: Percy Jackson, Luke Castellan, Clarisse La Rue, Grover Underwood, Annabeth Chase.

-♡ this is a shadow & bone slight crossover. Reader is a heartrender and that’s all really (maybe more in the future!)

-♡ Please note that all characters are aged appropriately, so all characters are older versions of the book characters. So 17-19 characters for these, you can choose any of them really. Just that they are older teens.

-♡ warnings: short, yandere behaviors, obsession, stalking, slightly sick love, possessive, manipulative, gaslighting, platonic yandere too, blood powers, powerful powers but not godly, and future warnings when more chapters come out.

No one knew the power you held when you entered camp. You stayed in The Big House at camp with Mr.D and many of the campers knew nothing but a few things when you walked by. You were a person of few words but spoke in glances, or at least to them you were.

You spent your days talking to Mr. D and Chiron since they didn’t like you to leave the house or their side.

“It’s just too dangerous to be around the little kids,” Chiron talks ever so soft to you.

“I mean, I don’t care if you hurt them or not but they know nothing of you— we barely know anything of your kind. So you stay with us.” He was a bit harsher when it came to you but he was also fun to be around.

No one noticed when you’d glance into a room while a patient was sick and in bed. And no one knew you visited Percy too.

You heard whispers when he arrived and wanted to check him out for yourself. His heart was beating fine and healthy but a little to high for your liking. He was having a nightmare and you could calm him down.

When you placed your hands together and calmed his heart, then his eyes open just a bit. He remembers seeing annabeth but you were new. You wore dark red and silver clothes making him wonder about you, you almost looked like royalty to him…and your beautiful.

“Sleep percy,” As soon as you spoke he was out like a light as you controlled his body and decreased the anxiety he felt. You wanted to stay there and help him but you knew you could get caught at anytime so you left. He wasn’t the only one you helped, and he wouldn’t be the last.

Another day you found yourself playing cards with Mr. D, he got too angry at you beating him that he took a break. He rests his eyes while you read a book, a very old and run down book but you refused to let it go. And that’s when the boy you helped walked in with confusion on his faces.

It was your favorite part to see someone new get welcomed.

Percy seemed to not notice you at first when his announce stayed on the god you knew, obviously he wasn’t aware of who he was talking to…and when he did he didn’t seem to care either. After a few minutes of them talking, he finally noticed you as you flip the page of your book.

“What are you looking at her for?” Mr. D tried to pull his attention away from you but he just kept staring.

“You…you were in my room that night.”

You shake your head and sit back under the gods suspicious glare. “No, no. Must have me mistaken.”

“I recognize that pin on your jacket, it was definitely you.”

“Okay kid, that’s enough now got get me that wine.” He snaps his fingers and Percy finally turns his gaze. Thankfully Chiron got there in time before Percy fell for his trick.

Percy was getting to explore the camp, train and fight and win glory. You hated how tight your at stomach got in jealousy of him. You’ve been here for two years and yet you haven’t stepped off the porch of the big house.

You stood up from your chair causing them all to turn to you. You slammed your hands on the table and started to demand that you would be going with them. You’ve had enough.

“I wanna see things too. Just for once let me see the camp, it’s cruel to keep me here.”

“You know the rules, you stay here!” Mr. D was always the one to fight with you when you threw your fits.

“Your rules suck! Let me go on the tour!” Your voice was so loud percy thought that the whole camp could hear you. Your final hope was to look at Chiron with begging eyes since he was so easy to guilt.

And like every time. He caves.

“Maybe we should. They have shown no signs of hurting anyone and it would be good to get a bit of fresh air, stretch their legs.” He tried to reason with him. You begged and prayed in your mind for it to work.

“Fine— whatever. But if anyone so mush as touc-” he was cut off by you squealing and hugging him. He was caught of guard since you’ve never do that before. He felt pride, the other gods wanted you to come to Olympus or the underworld but he got you. No one could take the smirk on his face.

Percy was happy to see you smile. It caused his mood to lighten greatly and he didn’t really know why but you seemed so familiar to him. Like he’d do anything to keep you smiling, to hold your hand…

“Come along, we have a lot to explore.” You both trail behind the centaur to take on the new adventure. Maybe this was fate.

You didn’t know it but many eyes would begin to follow you everywhere.

Next chapter

-No Taglist because idk of people want this to be tagged in (I will add you if you ask! Just my normal ones I don’t wanna spam them with notifications if they don’t want this)

[planetkiimchi]

i knew it first | z.cl

"i'm in love, i'm in love, i'm in love with the boy next door." (series masterlist)

featuring: neighbour!chenle x gn!reader, cameos by johnny, winwin, joy, suzy, dokyeom, renjun, jisung, ningning

word count: 15278 words

warnings: a little bit of swearing (i tried to keep it to a minimum), food mentions, some angst bc would it really be my fic if i don't give my characters major issues am i right 🤩

summary — chenle's pretty sure his crush on you is obvious. it's a little stupid, really, just how in love he is with you. but it's even more foolish how you don't seem to realise until he confesses properly. you can lie and say you knew he liked you all along, but he'll stand by the fact that he knew you liked him first.

author's note: happy birthday, my wonderful zanna @slytherinshua <3 thank you for being the most supportive friend EVER, for always being open to doing face quizzes (and for being so patient when i get them wrong), and for always trying to engage everyone in the server or the community. i hope you have the most wonderful month and that you get all the good things you deserve!

At 22, you were accustomed to solitude. Your career path as an actor had started ever since you were a child, and you were one of the few kids on set who didn’t cry when your parents left. Your parents took this as a sign to enrol you in acting classes, and you joined theatre in high school.

By the time you graduated high school, you were performing in musicals locally, often practising with the rest of the crew late into the night. Each run needed to be as perfect as possible, and the pressure could get to your head sometimes, which was when you would take a step back, speak to your friends—especially Winwin—and find your footing before you went back to practising.

You had quite a strong support system within the performers, but outside of them, you didn’t have anyone else.

You moved out of your parents’ house shortly after you turned 22. While it was, in some sense, a financial burden for your family, you and your parents had agreed that it was worth it, especially since your schedule was erratic and you often came home late, disrupting their sleep. It wasn’t like you saw them often anyway, so you all came to the conclusion that it would be better for you to move out.

“Sicheng,” you called, winding through the house with a mug in your hand. “Sicheng, where are you?” Winwin emerged from the living room, phone in hand, his eyebrows raised. “What?” “Oh, I just had a question.” Winwin turned away, taking a seat on the couch and crossing his right ankle over his left knee. “Sit.” Once you were seated, he turned his body to face you, and with a posture of attentiveness, asked, “What’s up?” “Should I have a housewarming party? I don’t know if it’s a good idea, what if the neighbours are my fans and they harass me for the entire time I live here once they find out who I am?” Winwin looked at you curiously. “Okay, wait, slow down. You don’t even like parties.” You avoided his gaze, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Well, yeah, but—” “No buts. If you don’t want a housewarming party, then just don’t hold one,” Winwin concluded, leaning back into the couch.

“But… It's not that I don’t want to host a housewarming party either. I do want to celebrate having a new house, it’s just…” “Socially exhausting?” Winwin supplied.

“...yeah.” Winwin picked up a pen from the coffee table, spinning it around as he hummed. “What kind of party do you want to have?” “Maybe potluck?” “That could work. You could send invitations to whichever friends you want to come, and ask them each to bring some food. It’ll just be food and talking, and maybe some wine. I’ve got a karaoke machine at home, I could bring it over and we could set that up. It’ll be fun!” “Really?” you asked. “You’d do that?” “Yeah, why not?” “I mean, it’s not like you like parties either…” “You’re my friend, Y/n. It’s not socially exhausting being with you.. The rest of them are my friends too. It’ll be just a hangout for us,” Winwin promised.

“Okay.”

Two weeks later, cars started pulling into the carpark near your apartment, and you watched the familiar cars on the street from your window. “They’re here!” you exclaimed, going into the kitchen where Winwin was removing the lasagna from the oven.

“Oh?” Winwin placed the lasagna on the table, just as the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” Winwin let out a laugh at your jittery state as you hurried to the door to open it. Jaehyun stood there at the door, a bouquet in hand, with Joy by his side.

“Welcome! Come in, come in,” you told them, gratefully receiving the flowers. Winwin led them into the house as you went to find a vase for the flowers. Joy set the food down on the dining table, remarking that the lasagna smelled heavenly.

Slowly, the guests began to arrive, first Suzy, followed by Dokyeom shortly after. Johnny, the company manager, was among the last few to arrive, but he was easily forgiven by virtue of his dazzling smile and the expensive wine he had brought.

Once everyone had arrived, the plates were distributed and food was served. Over the hot, steaming meal, everyone shared their congratulations, and you received a number of compliments on the lasagna.

The conversation proceeded to take the direction of the musical you were currently practising for, and several jokes that you should end practice earlier were made, but Johnny shook his head and smiled knowingly (you all knew that meant practice could very well be extended instead of shortened).

Once the food was finished, Winwin headed to the living room to set up the karaoke machine, while the guests brought the soiled cutlery to the kitchen, where they placed it in the sink before visiting the washroom.

As they started heading towards the living room, the doorbell rang, and you furrowed your brows in confusion.

You made your way to the door, not bothering to look through the peephole before opening it. In front of you stood a young man about your age, his hair slightly dishevelled, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.

“Who’s that?” Winwin called. When you continued to remain silent, he set down the microphone and went over to take a look.

“Hi,” the man said. “I’m Chenle, your neighbour. My family and I noticed there were some guests earlier, are you having a housewarming party?”

You swallowed your saliva and nodded hesitantly. “Yes. Sorry, were we being too loud? I can tell them to keep their noise level down.” Personally, though, you hadn’t thought that you had been noisy. Was your neighbour one of those people that could only function in absolute silence? “Oh no, no,” Chenle laughed, waving his hands in front of him to dispel the thought. “You haven’t been noisy at all. We just wanted to pass you some pizza—my family runs a pizzeria, you see—to say welcome to the neighbourhood! Our flat is just opposite yours,” he pointed.

“Oh, wow. Thank you!” you replied.

“It’s no problem. Well, I’ll be going. Enjoy your party! I’ll see you around.” Smiling, Chenle waved at you and went back home.

You turned to Winwin, shutting the door before you whisper-yelled, “He’s cute!”

Winwin rolled his eyes and pulled on your ear, ignoring your cry of pain. “Honestly. What goes on in your head?”

Before you could reply, a screech from the living room caused both of you to turn your heads. You burst out into laughter as you caught sight of Johnny attempting to belt out a high note, his face red with exertion. Your friends were gathered around him in a circle, legs crossed, with Johnny being the sole exception. He stood in the centre, fist clenched, bent over as he sang into the microphone—that is, if it could be considered singing.

Breathless, he handed the microphone over to Joy, who blessed your ears with her melodious voice, amidst the dying laughter. Dokyeom handed him a glass of water, and he gulped it down, leaning against the sofa with a dramatic sigh.

You brought the pizza with you as you and Winwin headed over, settling onto the carpet as the song continued to play.

Dokyeom raised his head, locking eyes with you. Once you were seated, he tilted his head towards the door. “What was that about?”

“My new neighbour.”

“He’s cute,” Dokyeom commented.

“I know!” you replied, rolling your eyes. Opening the pizza box, the smell of freshly cooked pizza filled the air, and you handed a slice to Joy, who was staring at the pizza hungrily.

“Want one?” Dokyeom nodded, and you handed him a slice, before biting into a slice of your own pizza. The gooey, cheesy slice melted in your mouth, and you sighed happily.

“I told Winwin that the guy was cute, but he brushed it off,” you tell Dokyeom.

“He probably doesn’t want you replacing him,” Dokyeom said. “Want a lollipop?”

You received it, sucking on it contemplatively. After a moment, you took it out of your mouth, reaching over to tap Winwin on the shoulder.

“You know I’d never replace you, right?”

Winwin’s brows knitted together in a moment of confusion, but that expression was quickly replaced by one of amusement. “I know.”

“Good.” You retracted your hand, leaning forward to squint at the lyrics as the microphone was passed to you.

As the night came to an end, your friends gathered up the empty containers strewn about, collecting their belongings. More than one of them downed a glass of water, proceeding to head to the bathroom afterwards.

You wiped down the table before sending your friends off, waving at each one of them in turn.

“Thank you for coming,” you repeated.

“Thank you for inviting us!” Suzy smiled.

“Tell us about that cute boy,” Dokyeom said with a wink, scurrying off before you could respond.

“What— Seokmin!” Winwin reached out to place a hand on your shoulder, and you turned to face him.

“Do you need help with anything else?”

You shook your head. “Go home and get some rest.”

Winwin gave you a quick hug, waved and left.

With a sigh, you plopped onto the couch, gaze trailing over the empty house. The exhaustion was just beginning to catch up to you, and you let out a tired yawn. You ran a tired hand through your hair, sweeping it out of the way as you went into the kitchen, taking up a wet sponge and squeezing out a bit of dish soap before scrubbing at the dirty dishes.

Once that was done, you wiped down the table, swept the floor, and threw all the trash into the bin. Then, you bagged your trash and took it out.

As you locked your door, you noticed a piece of paper hung to the doorknob by a string. You removed it, taking a look at the words written on it.

dear neighbour,

i realised i forgot to get your name! anyway, here’s my number so you can contact me whenever.

chenle

You pocketed the piece of paper, and as you passed by Chenle’s house, you smiled a little at the shoes neatly placed on the shoe rack—mostly sneakers—wondering which ones were his.

After taking out the trash, you took a long, hot shower, letting all the tiredness dissolve from your body. You blow dried your hair, clambered into bed, and looked at your phone, which was blowing up with pictures from the earlier party.

You sent a quick ‘thank you’ message, resolving to go through the photographs slowly the next day, and sent a text to Chenle instead.

unknown: hey chenle, this is y/n, your neighbour :)

He replied almost immediately.

chenle (cute boy next door): hey y/n! it’s quite late, get some rest first? i’d love to hear how you're settling in y/n (neighbour): yep, you too

Placing your phone on the nightstand to be charged, you soon drifted off to sleep.

Hands braced against the floor, you did two back walkovers while the music slowly trailed off. The last note faded as Dokyeom’s voice quietened.

“Halt!” The two of you turned to the direction of the sound, and you took a few tentative steps back until you were next to Dokyeom. Dressed in a shirt and jeans, Winwin wasn’t very intimidating, but his tall stature and serious expression made up for it.

The silence ensued for a few seconds before Winwin sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. “Sorry. Line?”

The lights blinked on, and Johnny emerged at the foot of the stage. All eyes turned to him as he spoke, not loudly, but clear enough for his voice to travel.

“Alright, let’s take 5. Sicheng, you okay? Do you need to read your lines?”

Winwin nodded, then leapt down from the stage, grabbing his water bottle from one of the front row seats. He drank slowly before replacing his bottle and snatching up his script. The neon yellow highlights blurred as he shook out the script in frustration, flipping to the page he needed.

“Halt, what do you think you’re doing, you street rat?” he muttered, repeating it over and over again under his breath.

You sat on the edge of the stage with Dokyeom, catching your breath. You took a swig of water and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Dokyeom nudged you, and you turned to face him. “Hm?”

“How are you getting home? Is Sicheng still going to drop you off?” When you lived with your parents, you would always carpool with Winwin, since your house was on the way home for him.

You shook your head. Since moving house, it was no longer convenient for Winwin to drop you off. “Suzy offered to drop me off,” you told Dokyeom.

Dokyeom nodded. “That’s good. It isn’t safe to make your way home alone when it’s dark.”

“I know, Mum.” Dokyeom rolled his eyes at the jab. Checking his watch, he got to his feet, extending an arm to help you up. You took his hand and he pulled you to your feet with ease, the two of you setting your bottles down out of the way before assuming your places again.

Winwin hurried up the steps to the stage, eyes scouring the floor for the yellow crosses that demarcated his spot, and heading into the wing just next to it.

Johnny clapped his hands thrice, the loud sound resounding throughout the studio. “Ok everybody, breaktime is up! Let’s get back to rehearsing.”

The rehearsal ended at 10pm, which meant it was already 11 when you stepped out of the elevator at your floor. You were slightly delirious from the lack of sleep, having stayed up late the night before to tidy up your house. Rocking on your heels, you pressed a hand to your temples to ease the headache building up behind your eyes, taking a few steps forward.

Walking proved to be a challenge, as your foot came into contact with an obstacle. Blinking your bloodshot eyes, you identified the obstacle as a delivery box.

Several delivery boxes, in fact. No less than 10 delivery boxes were strewn across the corridor between your apartment and Chenle’s. You shut your eyes for a brief moment of reprieve, and when you opened them again, the boxes remained.

So you weren’t hallucinating. Frowning, you slowly weaved your way between the cardboard boxes. At your door, you braced one hand against the door frame as you removed your shoes, placing them on the rack and locking the door behind you.

You contemplated asking Chenle to move the boxes, but it was late and you didn’t intend to disturb him. You hadn’t actually seen him for the whole day, you realised. Perhaps his working hours and yours didn’t overlap.

y/n (neighbour): pls move ur delivery boxes 🙏

Not long after sending the text, you drifted off to sleep.

You woke the next morning to banging against your door. Concerned, you flipped your phone screen up, only to realise that it wasn’t even noon yet. With a long, drawn out groan, you rubbed your eyes as you slid into your slippers and padded across the room.

You pulled the door open, stifling a yawn, seeing your friends outside.

“It’s too early for this,” you mumbled, heading back inside before they could say anything. Dokyeom hurried inside after you, yelling for you to hurry as you disappeared into the toilet.

You emerged from the bathroom, dangling your earrings against your earlobes as you looked at yourself in the mirror, deciding which accessories fit your outfit best.

Dokyeom stood by the door with his arms crossed, shouting, “Hurry up! We’ve got to get there before they break for lunch!”

You groaned, putting the other sets of earrings back into the drawer and slipping the ones you'd chosen into your piercings. You pulled your socks on in a hurry, not even bothering to put your shoes on properly as you rushed out after your friends. Your fingers slipped a couple of times as you tried to insert the key into the keyhole, until you finally managed it, while Joy yelled at you from inside the elevator to move quickly.

You rushed into the elevator, kneeling to tie your shoelaces and put your shoes on properly. Then it hit you.

"What kind of lunch place closes during lunch time?"

Dokyeom scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well, about that... I kind of just said the first thing that came to mind that I thought would make you hurry, and it worked, didn't it?"

"Seokmin! Ah, never mind. It's fine." You stood up properly, adjusting the strap of your shoulder bag as you followed your friends out. You got in Jaehyun's car, with Dokyeom navigating in the passenger seat.

The ride wasn't long, and you pulled up to a deserted building, with "One Minute Pizza (一分钟披萨饼)" written in a deep shade of red.

You stepped out of the car, followed by Joy and Dokyeom, while Jaehyun drove off to find a parking lot in the carpark. Dokyeom took the lead and you followed behind him as he headed to the counter to look at the menu.

"Chenle?"

To your surprise, one of the workers at the counter taking orders was none other than the neighbour you had messaged the night before.

His expression remained friendly, the customer-service smile fixed upon his face as he finished attending to the customer in front of you. As you and your friends moved forward, he caught sight of you, breaking into a genuine smile.

“Y/n! Welcome, what can I get you?”

Dokyeom launched into his order, ordering enough pizzas for all of you to share. Joy would be stealing everyone else’s food anyway, so Dokyeom didn’t bother ordering anything for her. Once he was done ordering, Chenle repeated the order back to him, and Dokyeom took the receipt and went to sit down.

You lingered a little while longer, standing by the side so the next customer in line could move forward. After calling out the order to the kitchen, Chenle looked at you, eyes rolling up as he recalled something. “Oh, right! I moved the boxes. Did you get my text?”

You glanced at your phone, realising that you had several unread texts. You clicked on the one from Chenle, which read:

chenle (cute boy next door): mb 😓😓 just cleared them!

“Yeah, I did! Thanks for that, by the way.”

“No problem. My mum has a bit of a consumption problem, so the delivery boxes are a common hazard. Just let me know next time, and I'll move it for you, yeah? Don't want you to trip and fall.”

“Okay.”

Chenle smiled, apologising to the customer for the wait before taking their order.

Jaehyun joined you as you walked to your table, nudging your shoulder and whispering conspiratorially, “Who’s that?”

“My neighbour.”

“Oh, the cute one?” You whipped your head, hair smacking into your forehead. You brushed your bangs out of your eyes as you gaped at Jaehyun, mortified.

“You heard that?”

Jaehyun shrugged. “You were speaking about it with Dokyeom while you were sitting right behind me. It wasn't hard to overhear."

"Jae!"

Jaehyun grinned, sitting down opposite you, half his ass off the chair as he squeezed in next to Joy, stuffing a slice of pizza in his mouth. His voice was muffled as he said something about you being one of the most obvious people he'd ever met.

Joy leaned forward, elbows propped up on the table, chin resting on her hands as she darted her eyes pointedly in Chenle's direction. "So, what's the plan?"

"What plan?"

Dokyeom squinted at you, brows furrowed. "Y/n, please don't tell me you're that dense." When you continued staring blankly at him, he pulled away with a sigh. "I guess you are. The plan to make Chenle your boyfriend, of course."

You choked on your drink, coughing violently while Dokyeom patted your back. Sputtering, you turned to face the culprit, who only looked at you innocently.

"Lee Seokmin!" you whisper-yelled. "Can you please not say that while he's right there?"

Dokyeom nodded appeasingly and waved a hand at the food. "Okay, okay. Go on and eat, we're actually going to be late if you're slow."

You checked your watch and scarfed down the pizza. However, Joy, who had already finished eating, had other priorities. Leaning back, she crossed her arms and said seriously, "I personally think you should find out if they have neighbours’ meetings. It'd be great in helping you assimilate into the community, while also getting to know a certain someone a little better."

Between bites of food, you considered this proposition before deciding that it wouldn't do you any harm. You nodded to acknowledge Joy's suggestion, before you finally finished eating and everyone stood up to return the trays while you wiped your mouth clean with a napkin.

"So," you started, while the four of you briskly made your way to the car, "I'll do what Joy says and update you all once I've done it."

Jaehyun let out a laugh. "Why do you make it sound so serious?"

You frowned, offended, but your conversation was interrupted when you locked eyes with Chenle, who smiled and waved at you. You waved back happily, a happy glow settling on your cheeks.

“Dear God,” Jaehyun groaned. “He’s already making you delusional.”

You swatted him, and he quickly amended, "Not delusional! A perfectly sane human who will be telling us all about their attempts to gain Chenle’s love!”

You harrumphed, taking long steps with your legs straightened out, until Joy wrapped her hands around you and laughed joyfully. “Come now, Y/n! They're just teasing.”

You stuck your tongue out the side of your mouth and glared at Jaehyun. He shrugged uselessly and you finally relented.

“Fine, I’ll tell you all about it. If anything happens.”

“When anything happens, you mean. Have some faith in Joy’s plan,” Dokyeom interjected, winking at Joy.

She grinned back at him and you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.”

The studio was warm with the body heat radiating off the few of you piled up on each other, limbs strewn out in a tangled fashion, heads resting on anything soft you could find. Your head was buried deep within your sweater, which you had laid upon the wooden floor, and Winwin was snuggled up into your side. Somewhere, Suzy and Dokyeom were also lying among the scripts and pens lying on the floor, heads supported by their forearms and each other’s legs.

Nobody dared to move much—if they did, they might tickle whoever they were leaning on, and if they breathed too deeply, the person lying on them might shift away. Anyway, everyone was too tired to move much, mouthing their own lines to themselves, occasionally thumbing to the next page or groaning in frustration. You propped your elbows up and struggled into a half-sitting, half-lying down position, glancing over at Johnny, who was speaking to one of the stage crew while gesturing wildly to the stack of props next to them.

Joy awakened from her nap, rubbing her eyes as she looked around. “What time is it?” she asked, spotting you as the only one who wasn’t busy with something else.

“5.50,” you replied. Joy nodded, pulling her shoes back on, before tucking her hands into the deep pockets of her jacket and getting to her feet.

She walked over from her corner of the room to your spot on the floor, crashing next to you, causing Winwin to look up at the sound, eyes rolling up. Joy waved at him and smiled.

Winwin smiled back, rolling over onto his stomach as he surveyed the studio. He rubbed his hands together, then pressed the back of his palm against your neck, and you shuddered at how cold he was.

His body was warm, but his fingers weren’t, so you passed him the sweater that you had been lying on, and he buried his hands within it to gain some of the warmth you had transferred to it.

Your phone buzzed as you clambered to your feet. You pulled it out from your pocket, mouth widening in shock when you read the message.

“Joy,” you whispered urgently, tugging on her sleeve, “What does it mean when someone says they have a surprise for you?”

Joy let out a sharp, delighted gasp. “What?” Her shocked reply pulled Dokyeom out of his trance, and your friends gathered around your phone while Winwin stretched his legs out, a short distance away, weight resting on his palms as he watched you with an amused smile playing on his lips, head tilted to one side.

Joy skimmed through the messages quickly, her smile fading when she finished reading all of them. “I don’t think it means much, since he said his friend bought it for him. It kind of sounds like he’s just using you so he doesn’t feel guilty about letting the gift go to waste.”

“Ah,” you sighed, disappointed. “So it’s nothing special?”

Joy shrugged. “I mean, he’s giving you something, and that means he at least remembers you and is friendly towards you.”

“Can’t take care of these kinds of things well?” Dokyeom interjected, reading off the message, and you smiled inwardly at how delayed his reaction was. “What, is he giving you some kind of living organism or something?”

“... Shit.” You pressed your hand to your forehead. “You don't think he got me a plant, do you?”

Nervous laughter escaped Joy’s lips, shortly followed by Suzy’s full-on chortling. Soon, the sound of laughter in the room was so loud that you could barely hear Johnny calling for the actors to come back to the centre. That was, until his voice, amplified by the microphone strapped to his body, clearly enunciated, “Lee Dokyeom and company, if you’re not over here in one minute, you can all kiss goodbye to your current roles.”

The laughter soon died down to smothered giggles as you ran over to the sides of the studio that you were starting on, Jaehyun nudging you as you rehearsed your lines by the side. “Didn’t you kill the bean sprouts you tried to grow in elementary school?”

You rolled your eyes. Ever since Winwin had given you a plant for your birthday and your parents had let slip that you were notoriously bad at taking care of anything living, including yourself, your friends had never let you live it down.

“Yes, Jae, that’s old news. Shouldn’t there be other things for you to think about right now? Say, like making sure you don’t accidentally start rapping your lines?”

Jaehyun groaned. “That was one time, Y/n–“

Before he could say any more, you were scurrying into the middle, one hand on Dokyeom’s shoulder as you bounced on the balls of your feet. You pretended to lose balance, falling forward into a front roll, and Dokyeom rushed forward, peering over the half-completed balcony prop.

“Abu!”

You got to your feet, dramatically dusting off your shoulders before grinning widely at Dokyeom, head cheekily cocked to one side before you leapt back behind the balcony prop.

All thoughts of Chenle were soon pushed to the back of your mind as you immersed yourself in the role.

Those thoughts never left the back of your mind, however, and they still plagued you as you sipped the ice-cold water from the water cooler and swirled your noodles around, taking slow bites while Suzy ate contentedly.

“You okay?”

You shrugged, forcing yourself to take another bite before looking at the empty bowl and sighing heavily. Rehearsal had ended earlier than expected, and it was barely 10pm, yet you felt more tired than usual.

“I guess I’m just a little tired of life.”

Suzy raised her eyebrows, reaching over to hug you wordlessly. When she pulled away, her hand remained on your shoulder as she made eye contact with you. Each word she said was intentional and carefully enunciated as she told you, “That’s normal. We all get a little tired of life sometimes, especially when we’re nearing a big production and hours are long, making it easy for us to lose sight of what the goal is. Just remember that you have us—” she gestured vaguely in the direction of the empty studio—“and that we’re always here for you.”

You nodded, slumping against the table and burying your head in your hands. “It’s just– I want to love and be loved, you know? And it’s so hard to do that in this day and age.”

Suzy smiled ruefully and hummed in understanding. “I know it’s tough. I won’t lie and say it gets better, but at some point we all figure out something that works for us. Just hang in there for a while, you’ll find your way too.”

Her words hung in your mind the entire ride home, even as you stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for your floor. You took advantage of the short elevator ride to take a break, shutting your eyes until the “ding” sound of the elevator doors opening called you back to reality. 

You were greeted by a potted plant sitting next to your shoe rack when you came up to your door, and you slipped your shoes off and picked up the plant, pushing open the door to your house. You set the plant down on your dining table, glad that there was a plate underneath to prevent the water from leaking onto your floor.

You left the plant there while you went to wash up, and came back afterwards with your phone in hand.

Sitting at the table, you turned the plant around aimlessly, contemplating what to do with this “surprise” your neighbour had given you with pure intentions. A white sticker caught your attention, and you began to search up the name, looking up what kind of care it needed. Fortunately for you, it was a succulent and fairly low maintenance; although you knew that you were still perfectly capable of killing it.

You decided to put it on your window sill, where it was sure to get plenty of direct sunlight while you were fast asleep, and watered it sparingly. You sat at the table, admiring the view of the plant anyone else would have if they were to step foot inside the house, a smile breaking out across your face.

You caught yourself, shocked at how quickly you had come to accept the gift, despite your earlier protests about owning a plant.

Before you could think any better of it, you were dialling Winwin’s number.

He picked up the video call, groggily wiping at his half-closed eyes. “Honestly, Y/n, have you ever heard of this thing called ‘sleeping’? It’s really good. You should try it.”

“I have a succulent. On my window sill. And I'm happy thinking about how it’ll look every time I come home.”

“Wow,” Winwin drawled. “What a tragedy.”

“I’m serious, Sicheng. I’ve never managed to keep a plant alive before. But the moment Chenle gives me one, I'm staying up late trying to figure out how best to take care of it. Do you know how terrifying that is?”

Winwin rubbed his face tiredly. “Do you need me to come over? You sound like you’re having a crisis.”

You shook your head. “No, can you just… Stay on the call with me?”

Winwin nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”

A moment of silence ensued before he asked, “So, what’s up? Suzy told me you were feeling a little tired of life.”

You shrugged. “I don't know, I'm just… thinking a lot, I guess. It’s been a while since I’ve been in a relationship.”

Three years, to be exact. Your high school sweetheart had lasted all of four years before deciding halfway through university that your “high commitment to theatre” made it “impossible” for the two of you to work out.

Since then, you had never been in a relationship, though not for lack of trying—you simply had high standards that were difficult to meet, and all your previous dates had barely met the bare minimum. Once, you had jokingly suggested that you and Winwin date, but he had turned down the offer without blinking. In hindsight, dating within the troupe would have been messy whether or not the two of you broke up.

“Y/n,” Winwin called, pulling you out of your stupor.

You blinked at him. “Yeah?”

“Nothing. Just, talk to me, yeah? You know I can’t read your mind.”

You nodded. “I know. I was just thinking.”

“We’ve discussed this. If you want to talk to me, you’re going to actually have to talk. You can't just be silent and expect me to understand.”

“Can't we just sit in silence for a while?” you asked pleadingly.

Winwin shook his head. “You know what comes from sitting in silence. Those thoughts in your head never go silent, do they? You’re going to have to voice them aloud for me to know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m just wondering if I really like Chenle, or if I’m seeking out love to the point that I mistake any form of human interaction outside of our group as a potential romantic relationship.”

Winwin’s gaze softened. “I think you’re being paranoid. Your feelings are completely valid, don't discredit them like that. Why don't you just wait it out and see? There’s no harm in getting to know him better.”

“But you know me, Sicheng. You know I’m scared to commit. I'm scared to lead him on and then dip when he reciprocates.”

Winwin smiled ruefully. “Haven’t you ever heard of facing your fears? You’re good at stepping out of your comfort zone. What changed?”

You shrugged, playing with the hem of your shirt. You stood from your spot in the dining area, making your way into the bedroom, where you snuggled under the covers as Winwin watched you expectantly.

“I guess you’re right. There’s no harm in getting to know him better. I am planning to stay in this place for a long while.”

Winwin grinned. “That’s the Y/n I know. Get some sleep, you’re going to have to talk to Chenle tomorrow.”

You frowned, mouth opening to ask what he meant, but you were too slow. As always, Winwin was one step ahead, hanging up before you could say anything.

sicheng: don't think i’ve forgotten about your promise to execute joy’s plan sicheng: i'll make sure you carry it out tmrw

You sighed. You weren’t sure whether to be grateful to have a friend like Winwin.

It was drizzling when you stepped out of the elevator, a light breeze blowing into the lift lobby. Other than the quiet whistle of the wind, everything else was silent—just how you liked it.

You took your time taking off your shoes, leisurely unlocking your door, when you heard the click of someone else’s lock and the sound of a door opening. You turned around, only to see Chenle dressed in a hoodie and shorts, his tousled hair obscuring his face.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, barely managing to tame it, when he finally looked up from his feet to you. His slippers remained forgotten on the shoe rack by the door as you made eye contact, breathing out a soft “oh”.

Chenle froze, hand groping about for the doorknob, then deciding to forget about it and slipping his feet into a pair of slippers. He stepped away from the door frame, shutting the gate behind him, and jerking his head at you.

“Just got back?”

“Yeah.” There was a pause while you contemplated asking Chenle if he was drunk, but he answered your question before it was even out of your mouth.

“I’m sober, by the way. Just hungry. I was going to head out to the store nearby to get some noodles, do you wanna come?”

You looked down at yourself, then back at the open door, into the empty apartment where there was nothing waiting for you anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to go with Chenle, right?

“Sure.”

Both of you stopped just before exiting the apartment building, opening your umbrellas as you stepped out into the rain, one after another, The wind had picked up, and the rain was starting to grow heavier, blowing into your face.

Chenle tugged the hood of his jacket up, cocking his head to one side. You followed him, staying silent on the walk there until Chenle spoke up.

“So, what’s your job? Do you often end this late?”

You side-stepped to avoid stepping into a puddle, not looking up as you replied, “I’m an actor.”

“You act in movies?”

You shook your head, then remembered he probably couldn’t see you with it being so dark outside. “I’m preparing for a musical.”

Chenle came to an abrupt halt, and you stopped walking, tearing your eyes away from his worn trainers to meet his eyes. You tried not to think too hard about the amusement in his black eyes, or the way it made them sparkle just a little, even with the sky being pitch black all around you.

“SorryIwasbusylookingatyourshoes,” you mumbled, all in a rush.

“What?” Chenle leaned in, and you took two frantic steps backwards.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear what you said!” you yelled, then covered your mouth immediately. Nothing was going to plan!

Chenle let out a chuckle and you glanced at him, trying to decipher the look in his eyes as he smiled at you. “Am I making you nervous?”

“No.” You tried not to let your voice waver when you repeated it. “No, I’m not nervous. What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know. I don’t really talk to people much unless they’re customers, or when I’m playing on the court. It’s been a while since I’ve had a conversation. I didn’t want to cross a line, so let me know if anything I’m doing is making you nervous.”

“You’re not– you’re not making me nervous, Chenle. I’m fine.”

Chenle’s lip curled up slightly. “You remembered my name.”

“Yeah.”

Chenle started walking again, and you matched his pace, trying not to think too hard about what was coming out of your mouth, or why he might have gone silent.

“What kind of noodles do you like?”

You frowned, trying to think of all the noodles you had ever tried. Winwin had definitely taken you out to some Chinese restaurants before, but the only thing you remembered was that noodles were “mien”, which wasn’t helpful in your current situation at all.

“Um, I’ll eat any kind? Chow mien, maybe?”

“Chǎo miàn,” Chenle repeated, and you weren’t sure if he was correcting you. “Yeah, I can do that. That just means fried noodles, though. What kind of noodles do you want me to fry?”

“Oh, uh–“ you stuttered anxiously. “I’m not– I’m not really sure? I’m fine with whatever, really.” I don’t know what the names of the different noodles are, and I don’t want to sound like an idiot in front of you, you added to yourself.

“Okay. Lā miàn it is, then.”

You repeated it softly to yourself under your breath, and were surprised when Chenle corrected your pronunciation. You hadn’t expected him to have such keen hearing, nor had you expected him to actually care about how you pronounced it. Winwin had never really cared; you thought that he had probably given up a while back, after hopelessly trying to get you to say “nǐ hǎo” for one of the jokes he had made to you.

Chenle was quite the opposite.

He was extremely persistent, to the point that it should have been annoying, but you were honestly just happy that the conversation wasn’t dying down.

While he led you through the noodle aisle, confidently making his way to where the lā miàn was, he pointed out the other kinds of noodles, making you practise saying the name of each one before he moved on. By the time he finally reached the lā miàn boxes, you were on the verge of snatching a box of uncooked noodles off the shelves and dragging Chenle out, just so he would stop criticising the way you struggled to pronounce the tones.

As Chenle scanned the noodles, you finally mustered up the courage to ask, “Chenle, do you guys have neighbourly meetings?”

“What?” he replied, distractedly tapping one of the options on the screen and tapping his card to pay for the noodles. He tore the receipt off, barely looking at it as he folded it and put it in his pocket, before turning his attention to you. “What are neighbourly meetings?”

“You know, like when you meet up with your neighbours and, I don’t know, discuss stuff pertaining to your apartment flats, or maybe just play pool?”

Chenle raised an eyebrow. “Did you have that in your previous building?” he asked, walking out. You weren’t far behind, inwardly letting out a sigh of relief when you noticed that the rain had lightened up.

“…no?”

Chenle let out a laugh that had your heart pounding in your chest, youthful and genuine, and you wondered why you had never seen him outside with his friends. If you were his friend, you would want to spend every waking second with him, just to hear his cheerful laughter and infectious joy.

“Then what makes you think we would have it?”

“I don’t know.” You decided not to tell him that Joy had suggested it, and you had never really stopped to consider if it was something that people even implemented anymore.

“I guess we do have something similar, but we haven’t held them in a while. We call them ‘Fifth Floor Film Fridays’, or F4 for short.”

“Sounds a little cringe, don’t you think?”

“Hey, watch your words. I came up with the name.”

“My bad. Didn’t know you were cool like that,” you said, tucking the handle of your umbrella under your armpit so you could raise both hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Thanks. Anyway, Renjun came up with the idea so we could speak to Jisung, since he had just moved into the flat at the time. You know how each floor only has four flats? Well, Renjun and I lived in two of the flats, and there was an old man living in yours. He used to give us candy when he saw us coming back from school,” Chenle reminisced.

“He always had his door open, with only the gate closed as he sat on his rocking chair and read the newspaper. He passed away a year ago, and his children have been trying to sell the flat for a while before you bought it. Either way, at the time the only other kid on our floor was Jisung, but he was shy and kind of awkward and always looked the other way when we saw him in the corridors in school.”

You couldn’t imagine what that would be like. If Chenle ever tried to speak to you in high school, you were sure that you would eagerly reciprocate his energy, even if you were later teased by your friends about it.

“So, Renjun and I talked loudly about F4 when we passed by him one day, and I pretended to remember that Jisung lived on our floor too, and ‘conveniently’ asked him to join.”

“…and it worked?”

“Of course! We just haven’t had them in a while, since, you know, we were all in university. But Renjun and I have both graduated, and Jisung’s never been one for studying, so I’m sure I could tell them to make time this Friday.”

When you didn’t reply, Chenle added, “You’re free then, right?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I am,” you lied. You weren’t sure if Johnny would let you take the time off, but you were sure if you tried to beg, you could probably pull it off.

“Then it’s set,” Chenle said, unlocking his door. You left your shoes outside by the door, padding softly across the floor, too scared to make any noise. Chenle locked the door, then pressed his index finger to his lips in a shushing motion, leading you into the kitchen.

He turned the light on, glancing at the bedroom door, presumably to ensure that his parents hadn’t woken up.

“You can just take a seat,” he told you, taking cutlery and two bowls from the cupboards. You took them from him, setting them on the dining table while he retrieved the various ingredients for the fried noodles and set a pot of water on the stove to boil.

“Last time I cooked for someone else, I was trying to impress someone I had over,” he said, conversationally.

“Oh yeah? How did that work out?”

He shook his head with a quiet laugh. “It didn’t. I just felt the need to cook for them because they only ever came to the family pizzeria to see me, and they would always compliment me on the pizza, but I don’t actually make those. I just collate orders and tell my parents what the customers want.”

Rolling his eyes, he continued, “So obviously, it hurt my ego that they didn’t know all about my cooking prowess. And because I’m so painfully Chinese, of course I subjected them to all the Chinese vegetable dishes my parents made for me growing up. They barely touched any of it because, as it turned out, they didn’t like eating their vegetables.”

“What were they, five?” you scoffed.

Chenle grinned. “I know, right? My parents told me not to invite anyone else who couldn’t eat the food I cooked after that.”

“Oh yeah? And what if I don’t like your cooking?”

Chenle smiled threateningly. “I’ll kick you out without hesitation.”

“It’s good that I’m not picky, then.” You stood up from your chair, walking over to watch Chenle strain the hot noodles and cool them down with ice before tossing what felt like random sauces into the pan and stir-frying the noodles.

“Can I help?”

Chenle hummed. “Not really. I mean, you’re still a guest.”

“Okay.” You watched him from a safe distance, stepping aside when he turned off the fire to allow him to walk towards the dining table and scoop half of the noodles into each bowl.

“Enjoy.”

You picked up your chopsticks, clicking them twice before thanking Chenle for the food and taking a bite.

Chenle, for all his bravado, didn’t move to take a bite until a smile broke out on your face, and he looked visibly relieved when you didn’t criticise his cooking. He began to eat his own noodles, not forgetting to compliment himself, and you agreed with raised eyebrows and a sigh. 

Afterwards, he walked you to the door, waiting until you had closed the door behind you to return into his own house, beginning to wash the dishes.

Meanwhile, you stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror with shampoo running down your neck, wondering how the hell you had ended up eating stir-fried noodles at Chenle’s place at midnight.

Once out of the bathroom, though, you had come to terms with the fact that it was a real thing that had happened, and not just some kind of hallucination. When your hair was dry, you lay down in bed, burying your face into your pillow and screaming.

Then, before you could think too much about it, you resolved to go to sleep.

Blocking was your worst enemy. It always had been for someone like you, who always forgot that the stage had limited space and you all had to move around while being aware of each others’ presence.

You did a cartwheel for what felt like the hundredth time, wobbling on your feet as you tried to regain your balance, hand pressed to your forehead in an attempt to ease the headache caused by the blood rushing to your brain. Johnny glared at you and you realised that you were half a metre away from where you were supposed to be. Still dizzy from the amount of time you had spent upside down, you took a few shaky steps to the yellow cross demarcating the spot you were supposed to be in.

“Stop, let’s take 5. Y/n, you okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I just can't do it full-out, my hands are shaking,” you told him softly, holding your hands out for him to see that they were trembling.

Johnny took one long, hard look at you and shook his head. “You’re taking tomorrow evening off.”

“What?”

“We’re all taking tomorrow evening off, in fact. Let’s make it a long weekend.”

Still confused, you stared at him as he announced it to everyone, gesturing for you to drink water. You came back right after, tapping Johnny on the shoulder as you asked, “Why are we having a long weekend?”

Johnny smiled warmly. “I forget you guys are still young sometimes. You shouldn’t be spending your early 20s burning yourselves out like this. Get some rest, watch a movie or something.”

“That’s what he said,” you told Joy, who had just asked how you managed to get Johnny to call Friday evening off. She smiled, hugging her knees close to her chest as she looked at you.

“He really has a soft spot for the younger ones,” she mused. “So, how are you spending your Friday off? Any plans?”

You laughed softly, thinking about how you’d asked Chenle if there were any neighbours’ meetings you could attend. “I do, actually. Turns out my neighbours do this thing called ‘Fifth Floor Film Fridays’ sometimes.”

“Tacky name,” Joy commented.

“Chenle came up with it.”

“Ah. Then it’s tasteful.”

You let out a snort. “No need for the switch-up. I thought it was pretty tacky too. But that’s not important, what’s important is that I'm going over to his house tonight for it.”

Joy leaned forward, a glimmer in her eyes as she said, “Run it by me. What you’re bringing, what time you’re going to be there, who’s going to be there. Tell me all about it.”

Later that night, you were holding down the lid of your frying pan while you popped the corn kernels you had just bought in a pan full of butter, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t end in catastrophe.

After what seemed like forever, the timer on your phone finally rang, and you removed the lid triumphantly, tossing the popcorn around so they wouldn’t stick to the pan. Luckily, the method you had used seemed to work, and you only had to throw out a small amount of unpopped kernels while pouring the popcorn into an open container for it to cool down.

You washed the pan and checked out your outfit in the mirror one last time before spraying a mild perfume on your wrists and pressing them against the sides of your neck.

Carrying the container of popcorn and precariously balancing a pack of sour strips on top of it, you pressed the doorbell to Chenle’s house, wondering if anyone else had arrived yet.

Your question was quickly answered by the man sitting in the living room, barely visible from the door when Chenle opened it and greeted you with a smile, but perfectly audible as he spelled the name of the movie aloud.

You entered the apartment cautiously, feeling unexpectedly nervous, but your fears were soon eased when you made eye contact with the man sitting on the sofa. He paused his struggle with the remote for a second while trailing his gaze up and down your figure, before breaking out into a smile.

“Hi, I'm Renjun.”

“Hi, Renjun. Do you need help with the TV? Oh, I’m Y/n, by the way.”

“I know,” he replied cryptically. “Chenle’s mentioned you before.”

You looked at Chenle in surprise, and he stared back at you. “What? I had to explain why I suddenly wanted to revive F4.”

Right. So that was all it was. Nothing to overthink about, you reminded yourself. You found a seat on the sofa, holding your hand out for the remote, and Renjun grudgingly handed it to you. “I can do it myself, you know.”

“Oh, I know. I just thought I’d help and speed up the process a little,” you quipped. Chenle let out a high-pitched giggle, squeezing between Renjun and the armrest, teasingly nudging his friend.

“Y/n’s calling you slow,” he said, as if Renjun hadn’t already gotten it. The latter rolled his eyes and rested his chin against his hand in a bored fashion, while you triumphantly displayed the movie that Renjun had been trying to find.

The doorbell rang again, and Renjun got up from the sofa that time, warmly hugging Jisung as he entered.

The tall, lanky man followed Renjun into the house, shutting the door behind him and giving Chenle a wave. Catching sight of you, he stopped in his tracks, tugging on Renjun’s shirt and mouthing, Is that Y/n?

Renjun nodded, almost imperceptibly, and you cracked a smile at their silent exchange. “Yes, Jisung, I'm Y/n. Nice to meet you.” You extended a hand to him, and the introverted man hesitantly took a few steps forward before taking your hand and shaking it.

Jisung set the grapes he had brought down on the table, mouth widening as he caught sight of the packet of candy. “Sour strips? Those are my favourite,” he gushed, reaching one hand out for them. “Can I open them? Who brought these?”

“Yeah, sure, you can open them.”

Jisung turned his big-eyed stare to you, and you found yourself melting in his gaze. “You brought it?”

You nodded, and Jisung raised a palm to cover his mouth. “Ah, really! Thanks.”

You nodded to acknowledge him, and Renjun stood up to turn the lights off, while Chenle turned the television on. Somehow, with all the movement going on, you ended up in the centre of the sofa, wedged between Jisung on your left and Chenle on your right, while Renjun sat on the right-most with his elbow propped up on the arm rest. 

With the cosy atmosphere and the lights turned down low, it was easy for you to forget that you barely knew the other neighbours, leaning forward while stuffing popcorn into your mouth, fully invested in the storyline. You almost forgot that the others weren’t your group of friends, who liked to talk loudly during the movie about the cinematic lighting or the expressions the actors made.

When you made a comment about the delivery of a specific line, Renjun turned to glare at you, but stopped when he saw the way Chenle watched you. A delighted smile on his lips, he watched your expressions like it was more entertaining than the movie, only turning his attention back to the screen once you stopped speaking.

Renjun tapped his finger against his chin, observing you more carefully.

You weren’t making a lot of physical contact with either of the men seated on either side of you, but you were very vocal, unafraid to voice every thought that crossed your mind aloud. You easily matched Chenle’s energy, nodding seriously and fuelling him whenever he started talking about one of the scenes, even when he got to the point that usually Jisung would sigh and smile exasperatedly, reaching out to place a hand over Chenle’s mouth to shut him up.

When this continued for an hour straight, it became too much for Jisung to bear. With a soft cry of frustration, he ran his hands through his hair, scrunching it up in irritation before he stood and headed to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

Renjun rose from the sofa not long after, following Jisung’s lead into the kitchen.

In a hushed whisper, Renjun spoke to Jisung. “Do you see what’s going on out there?”

“It’s like there’s two of them,” Jisung complained. “We should never have said yes to tonight.”

“No,” Renjun replied. “That’s not the important part. Have you seen how Chenle looks at them?”

Jisung cocked his head in confusion. “No?”

“He looks at them like they're glowing, or something like that. He’s infatuated! I’ve never seen him let someone else speak without trying to interrupt them constantly to say his piece before. It’s almost like he agrees with everything they're saying.”

“Which is impossible, because Chenle never agrees with anyone,” Jisung gasped in realisation. “Do you think there’s something wrong with him?”

“What? No! Ugh, you’re so clueless.”

Jisung pouted, and Renjun folded immediately. “Fine, you’re not clueless. I think Chenle likes Y/n, whether he knows it or not.” Renjun stuck his head out, peeking at the two sitting on the sofa, then nodded to reaffirm his point.

“So… what are we going to do?”

“Nothing.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Renjun sighed, with a roll of his eyes, “That’s how good dramas play out. Sometimes, you’ve got to let the characters figure out what to do on their own. Has our interference ever helped Chenle get into a relationship?”

Jisung opened his mouth to say yes.

“A long-lasting one,” Renjun hastily amended. Jisung reconsidered each time they had tried to set Chenle up with someone, including the disastrous last time when the person they were trying to set Chenle up with only liked Italian food, and never ate any sort of vegetables.

Jisung slowly shook his head.

“Exactly. Let’s just leave them alone this one time, okay? We’ve got to have a little faith in Chenle.”

Almost as if hearing his name, Chenle looked up from the sofa, eyebrows furrowing as he caught sight of his two friends standing in the kitchen and whispering to each other.

He raised one hand, beckoning his friends back, and they set down their glasses and went back to join the two sitting in the living room.

Noting that you were still absorbed in the movie, Chenle leaned over to Renjun and murmured, “What was that all about?”

Renjun shrugged innocently. “I was just asking Jisung how his last year was.”

“I want to know too, why did you guys have to go over there and act like it’s a secret or something?”

“Once the movie is over, we can talk all about it, ok? I want to hear about Y/n too.”

“Deal.” Chenle raised his pinky, and Renjun reluctantly took it, hooking his pinky with Chenle’s.

“Did you never grow up?”

“Nope,” Chenle said cheerfully.

A feeling of dread began to overcome Chenle as he saw you stumbling into his family’s pizzeria with nothing but a six pack of beer and your phone, collapsing at a table near the counter. Business was slow at 9am on a Wednesday, especially since they had just opened, and Chenle found himself swearing under his breath before walking over and sitting down opposite you.

You cracked open your first can of beer, sipping slowly at it while staring straight at Chenle, who couldn’t be bothered to hide his disgust.

“Seriously? It’s 9am on a weekday. What’s got you like this?”

“You forget that my sleep schedule is royally fucked, so this is basically 3am to me,” you told him, one finger pointing vaguely at him.

“And that gives you the right to come in here and drink to your heart’s content? I’m not having you sitting around here drunk. It’s bad for business.”

You smiled bitterly. “What business? The place is empty anyway. I'll be sober before lunchtime, don't worry. The alcohol content in the beer is pretty low, and I still have to go to work after this.”

You managed to gulp down an entire can, cracking open a new one, before Chenle sighed and took the rest away from you.

“Seriously, Y/n, what’s wrong?”

“It’s not about my ex,” you said immediately. “I’m well and truly over him.”

Chenle couldn’t help the pang of jealousy he felt, but he squashed it down, gritting his teeth and saying, “Don't care. Didn’t ask. Don't answer my question with a negative.”

“I can't tell you who it’s about,” you said. “It would be mad embarrassing.”

“You must still be somewhat sober then,” Chenle muttered. “Can I leave you?”

“No.” You grabbed his wrist, and he promptly sat back down. “Don't go. I'll tell you.”

“Okay.”

“It’s about me, selfishly.”

“It’s not selfish to have problems,” Chenle said, trying to comfort you, but you waved it off.

“Don't interrupt. I didn’t ask for your opinion.” Chenle shut up pretty quickly when you said that, so you continued, “I had this conversation a while back with Sicheng. Told him I was scared I was just looking for romance, and that a crush I thought I had was just me trying to push myself into a relationship. But now it’s no longer about not being sure of my feelings.”

Chenle didn’t know why, but some part of him wanted to get up and leave the conversation before he had to hear any more about the guy who had your heart. He didn’t want to hear you talking about some guy you liked unless it was him, because it was making him so jealous he could hardly breathe.

“I’m scared to commit,” you confessed. “I know I like him and I'm fairly sure he likes me back, and I don't know if he knows but I'm scared to tell him in case it all becomes too real for me to handle.”

Chenle felt his heart rate grow impossibly slow. There was, in his opinion, the slimmest of chances that the person you were talking about was him.

And while Chenle had always been an opportunist, he was also practical. He wasn’t about to jeopardise his chances by confessing while you were drunk, especially not when he was fairly certain you would forget the whole interaction by the time it was night. That would be simply humiliating for him, and his pride wouldn’t be able to handle it.

So to keep his pride at least somewhat intact, Chenle only said, “I think you should confess.”

“Really?” You looked at him sceptically, reaching for another can of beer. Chenle would have stopped you a second time, but instead of trying to drink it, you started lining three cans of beer up, stacking another two cans on top of it. Although you tried to place the last empty can atop the other two to finish the pyramid, your shaky hand made it hard for you to achieve the feat.

After three failed attempts, Chenle grew impatient, and held your wrist to steady it while you placed the last can on top of the pyramid. With one hand holding your wrist in place, he used the other hands to loosen the death grip you had on the can, moving your hand aside so the can would stay on top of the pyramid.

You slumped over on the table, staring at your masterpiece happily.

“I like–”

Chenle reached over and placed one finger on your lips to shush you, shaking his head. Chenle wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t to hear a confession while he was working, on a Wednesday morning, while you were half-drunk only a few hours before you had to head to work at a studio half an hour away.

His heart wasn’t ready for it, anyway.

He stood up, left to get you some water, and came back while you continued to stare into space dazedly, forcing you to finish a cup of water before repacking the unopened cans of beer and throwing away the empty ones.

“I appreciate your openness,” he said sincerely. “But I’d rather hear it when you’re sober. I'm confiscating this—” he held up the remaining four cans of beer, putting them in the fridge before coming back to you—”and you are going for a walk with me.”

You followed limply as he took you out, walking one round around the block while you leaned on his shoulder for support. Chenle, having established that you were sober enough to take the bus to your studio, was taking you back to the pizzeria when your phone began to ring.

“Hello?”

“Y/n, I thought you were kidnapped or something! Are you okay?”

You nodded, then remembered that Winwin wasn't able to see you. "Yeah. Why?"

"We agreed to meet up, remember? This is the third time you've stood me up in two months."

You slapped your forehead. Of course you remembered! Just not when you were drunk and trying to confess to someone who had just rejected you because you weren't sober. You cast a glance at Chenle, who raised his eyebrows at you.

"Um, yeah. About that. Sorry?"

“I've literally been to this arcade three times to wait for you already, people are going to start thinking I'm a loser whose date never shows up!"

"Don't be dramatic, Sicheng. Didn't you call Jaehyun to accompany you the past few times?"

“Yeah, after you were a no-show for two hours because you overslept!"

You winced apologetically. It really was your fault, but there was nothing you could do about the past few times. "I'm coming now. Can you hold on for a while?"

“You'd better hurry."

 As you hung up, you turned to look at Chenle, but he was busy looking away.

"So, Chenle–"

Chenle shook his head. "You're still not fully sober yet. I don't want to hear anything from those lips. Go and catch Sicheng, I'm sure he's been waiting."

"Can we... talk about this some other time?"

Chenle nodded. "Whenever you're free."

You weren’t expecting to see Chenle sitting on the step in front of his door, phone in his hands, when you arrived back home that day after a long day out. It had been a tiring day for you, having gone to the arcade and then to the studio afterwards, and all you wanted was to take a hot shower and go to bed.

But there Chenle was, his phone screen brightly lit up, although he switched it off the moment you stepped into view. He flipped the phone in his hands carelessly, looking up to meet your eyes.

You gave him a long, hard look, then headed inside, dropping your things off in your bedroom before taking a shower. Minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom, towel around your neck as you dried your hair, leaving the main door open when you took a seat at your steps, directly opposite Chenle.

No one spoke for a few moments, and it was just the two of you existing, surrounded by an atmosphere of comfortable silence. The stars blinked at you as you stared aimlessly out the side, watching the moon glow dimly, shrouded by the cloud cover.

Finally, after a long silence, you stretched out your legs, your breath whistling softly past your teeth, and Chenle looked straight into your eyes and spoke.

“How’s life?”

There was a certain understanding that rippled through the air—you weren’t going to talk about the almost-confession that had happened in the morning. He probably thought you didn’t remember it, and even though you did, you weren’t going to bring it up. There were some things better left unsaid.

Anyway, if he didn’t want to hear it, it was probably because he didn’t want to reject you twice. You set your towel on your lap, hands clasped, leaning forward as you said, “It’s fine.”

“What play are you preparing for now?”

“Aladdin.”

“Ah.” Chenle was silent for a while, and when you didn’t speak, he asked, “Aren’t you going to invite me to come watch it?”

“Johnny hasn’t given us our allocation of tickets yet, so, no. But I can invite you in advance.”

“Wow. You sound like you’re being held at gunpoint to say that.”

You laughed hollowly. “Sorry, I’m not really in the best mood.”

Chenle scoffed. “Oh, yeah? Then when are you in the best mood? At 9am in the morning?”

“Wow.” You took a long, slow breath and buried your head in your hands. “You’re right. Sorry. I won’t show up like that again.”

“It's not about the business, Y/n. I was kidding when I said that. It’s about me being worried about you. Why do you have to drink all by yourself? Is there no better way to resolve your problems?”

“Now you’re making me feel in need of a drink.”

“Seriously? So that’s just your default response to anyone asking you if you’re okay? That’s fucked up, Y/n. You’re halfway there to being an alcoholic at this rate.”

“Actually, you’re wrong.” You could almost hear the pleading tone in your voice, begging him to please believe you, to please stop being mad over an issue that didn’t exist. “I don’t drink. Today was the first time in a few months.”

It was the first time drinking and not thinking about your ex, anyway. Hence your opening line.

“Then? What’s up with this ex of yours, and why was the first thing you said to me that it wasn’t about your ex? It sounded highly suspicious to me.”

There it was. The real root of the problem, the reason Chenle was acting the way he was. Curiosity and misplaced anger, and if you read far into it enough, a hint of jealousy. But of course you didn’t read into it, because that had never been your strong suit. You preferred to take things at face value, then drive yourself insane over the “what if”s, analysing hypothetical scenarios instead of the body language that was perfectly real.

“My ex and I were high school sweethearts. He was my first and only real relationship, and I’ve never let myself get too close to anyone since. I guess I’m scared to commit, scared for everything to be so real and then to lose another person. Again.”

Chenle huffed a sigh, getting to his feet and sitting next to you. You shifted over, squeezing with him on the small step, and his hand landed on your shoulder. A silent tear rolled down your cheek, and Chenle’s other hand wrapped you in a warm, wordless hug.

“I don’t want to let myself get close, Chenle. That’s why I was drinking today; I was torn between my desire to be loved and my fear of not being loved.”

Chenle pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, listening to your muffled words as you mumbled into his jacket, and he loosened his hug to look at you, eyes trailing down your face.

“Give it a chance,” he said, slowly. “Give loving a chance. I promise it’s not as scary as you’re making it out to be.”

“That’s a great line,” you sniffed, wiping away your tears. “Have you ever considered becoming a playwright?”

Chenle shook his head. “No, but maybe after I watch your rendition of ‘Aladdin’, I might change my mind.”

You grinned weakly. “I’ll do my best, then.”

The screen in the dressing room was black, with Johnny occasionally walking onstage with a microphone strapped to his head. His low heeled boots clicked against the floor, and though the microphone didn’t pick it up, you had heard the sound often enough to imagine it as you watched your director walking across the stage.

Clipboard in one hand and his phone in the other, Johnny’s eyebrows were knotted together as he spoke rapidly into the microphone. Most of it was for the stage crew, so you couldn’t hear what he was saying down in the dressing room, but occasionally you would get startled when he walked back into the wings—presumably going to call the actors back onstage—only to emerge again a few seconds later.

Finally, it was almost time for the show to begin, and you went to prepare in the wings.

”Oh God.”

You heard Winwin’s strangled whisper even with the thunderous applause resounding in the echoey chambers of the theatre, watching the lights slowly dim through the gap between the curtains. You turned to face him, momentarily pulled away from scanning the audience, only to see his face ashen and pale, mouth agape.

”What?”

“She’s there,” he breathed, more like a sigh than actual words.

”Who?”

”Ningning. My junior from university. The one that brought me flowers on graduation day?”

Ah, that one. You clearly remembered her, even though you had only met her once. That specific incident had been a core memory of yours, back when your group had gone to attend Winwin’s graduation ceremony. As a bunch of theatre kids, you were the only ones dressed in brightly coloured jeans and turtlenecks, among the other students in graduation gowns and the iconic black hats.

Jaehyun ruffled Winwin’s hair, and he ducked shyly, hands reaching up to smoothen out his curls. The gel in his hair made this a difficult feat, so he eventually gave up, as Jaehyun laughed at him delightedly.

The commotion only got louder when one of Winwin’s batchmates called for a photo, and the graduates hurried to find a place on the steps, Winwin making his way to the back naturally. Several cameras flashed, and someone yelled for them to stay still while he swapped out his phone for another one, and the chorus of “cheese” sounded once more.

”Shī gē!” A Chinese girl with a bright smile and her hair in a high ponytail came running up to Winwin as he made his way back to you, a bouquet of yellow carnations in hand. “Happy graduation!”

Winwin’s face flushed red at the sound of someone calling him “senior”, and laughter burst out at the uncommon sight of someone chasing after Winwin. Although you would admit that your best friend was rather attractive, his features also made him too intimidating for anyone to approach. In your years of friendship, only one person had made a move on Winwin, and they had been politely rejected—if you could call being dismissed with a confused tilt of Winwin’s head “polite”.

Ducking his head and covering his eyes with his too-long fringe, Winwin handed his phone to you, mumbling something about you taking a photo of them.

A wide grin spread across your face. “Of course!” You cheekily took a picture of them, watching the way Winwin immediately eased up, putting one hand around the girl’s shoulder, holding the bouquet in his other hand. The girl threw up a peace sign and you snapped the shot, returning the phone to Winwin.

“I hope to see you around!” The girl told him, waving before running off, and you nudged Winwin while raising your eyebrows teasingly.

“Senior, huh?”

Winwin buried his face in his palms. “Please don’t call me that!”

“Who is she, anyway?”

“One of my juniors. She came up to me after our performance, said she admired me a lot, and since then she’s been kind of vocal about her crush on me.”

“Ah.” You nodded in understanding. “She seems like a nice girl.”

Winwin shrugged. “I guess. She’s not my type.”

“I thought she wasn’t your type?” you asked, recalling the conversation the two of you had had. Winwin rubbed the back of his neck nervously in response.

“I thought so too.”

You let out a snort, just as the distant clapping in the audience died off and Suzy ran onstage. “Well, you’d best put on a show for her then.”

The curtains slowly parted, and Suzy began reciting her lines, while Winwin stared straight at the spot where Ningning presumably was. “You too,” he replied. “Chenle’s there too.”

It definitely wasn’t nerve-wracking to hear that.

You were definitely cool and collected when your turn to go onstage came, and you did a dramatic cartwheel into the scene, just like you had practised many times before. The blocking that had been drilled into you by Johnny's constant tireless corrections and hours of effort had ingrained itself into your muscles kept you from crashing into anyone, dancing around the “guards” onstage in an intricate choreography that had been practised ceaselessly.

For once, you were grateful for having gotten a role where you didn’t have to speak, schooling your face into the exaggerated expressions you had spent hours practising in the mirror. Your body was your medium, conveying a message without words, moving all over the stage, managing to interrupt dialogues comically without having to deliver a punchline.

You no longer cared about how foolish the costume looked, concerned only with how the play worked as a whole, determined to give your best. Even if that meant acting as a monkey, ignoring the audience’s laughter. It was a testament to how well you were playing the role, you reminded yourself. Their laughter wasn't an indication of how bad you were. Rather, it was the exact opposite.

The two hours passed in a flash, with intermission as your sole break in between. In the dressing room, you had time to catch your breath, drinking water and going into the green room for a bite of the sausage buns that had been prepared beforehand.

Before you knew it, thunderous applause was sounding, your sweaty hands holding tightly onto your friends as you took your final bow. A wide smile broke across your face, triumphant and ecstatic, filled with pure, unadulterated pride.

You had completed it, the play that you had been working so hard for for months.

It was finally over.

The dressing rooms were a mess, with people poking their heads in everywhere. Johnny walked through the corridor in his suit, a proud smile dancing across his lips as he hugged people and shook their hands, congratulating all of you on a wonderful show.

Hasty hands plunged through door cracks, holding costumes and water bottles and other paraphernalia. Winwin poked his head into your dressing room, duffel bag slung on his shoulder, casting a glance at your almost-empty room. Most of the actors were in a hurry to meet their parents, but your and Winwin’s parents weren’t watching the show, so you took your time to pack everything back in your bag.

“C’mon, Y/n, hurry up!”

“What for? Everyone else is having a meal with their parents, but I’m not.”

Winwin clenched his teeth and looked over his shoulder. “Chenle, remember?” he hissed through gritted teeth.

Oh. Right. That singular name had you zipping up your own backpack, grabbing your phone off the counter, and staring at your stage makeup in the mirror.

“I look like a clown,” you complained, as Winwin dragged you outside and up the stairs.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m fairly certain he doesn’t care.” Winwin wasn’t paying attention to you, though, too busy scanning the crowd to take a good look at you.

“There!” You followed Winwin’s finger to where Chenle stood, holding a bouquet in his right hand, his other hand tucked into his pocket as he listened to Jisung. He was dressed in a sweater and black slacks, a stark contrast to the casual clothing you were used to seeing him in, and you felt your chest tighten.

He looked up just as you appeared in front of him, eyes sparkling, one hand tightly clutching your bag so it wouldn’t fall off your shoulder. He took the sight of you in, your heart pounding when he didn’t speak, until he finally said, “You looked better as Abu.”

What? You let out the breath you were holding, about to curse him out, when he laughed, that high-pitched giggle that you had grown accustomed to hearing.

“You should see the look on your face! Here, this is for you.” He pressed the bouquet into your hands, and you received it thankfully, admiring its beauty.

Next to you, you were vaguely aware of Winwin accepting Ningning’s hug, and she handed him a rose that he held gently in his hand, turning to you. With his eyebrows raised high, he looked pointedly at Chenle, silently asking if you were going out to dinner with him.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to get ramen?” You looked down at your white shirt, cringing inwardly, but nodded anyway.

“Sounds good.”

Renjun glanced knowingly at Jisung, teasingly saying, “Good job on today, Y/n. You did well.”

You nodded absently, maintaining eye contact with Chenle, and Jisung nudged Renjun subtly. “What do you say we dip after tonight? Maybe give them some space?”

Renjun nodded in relief. “And here I was scared you’d never catch on.”

The four of you walked towards Renjun’s car, and as you slid into the backseat, you slipped your bag off your shoulder and onto the floor. Once your seatbelt was fastened, you began toying with the flower petals, and Chenle pointed his thumb at it. “Renjun chose those, and it’s a gift from all of us. A token of congratulations.”

“Oh.”

You were sure the disappointment was evident through your voice, because Chenle’s lip curled up into something resembling a smirk.

He leaned over, hand pressed into the middle seat separating you, close enough for you to smell the gel he had used in his hair and the cologne he had sprayed. 

“Why do you sound disappointed? Could it be that you were expecting a gift from me?”

Your brain short-circuited.

You moved away from him, squishing yourself against the window, croaking out a tentative “no”, only causing his smirk to deepen as he backed away, glancing at his phone. “That’s too bad, then,” he remarked, offhandedly adding, “Because I did get you a gift.”

Renjun cleared his throat, making eye contact with you through the mirror before saying, “Seriously, Lele, why are you like this? Stop teasing Y/n.”

“Their reactions are just too entertaining,” Chenle replied.

It was true. Your ears were as red as a tomato, and your cheeks were hot. You averted your eyes, studiously staring out the window until Jisung turned around in the passenger seat and beckoned you to come closer.

���He acts very confident, but he’s nervous too,” Jisung whispered.

“I heard that. I'm not nervous,” Chenle called.

“Yeah, right. I saw you psyching yourself up before the performance earlier. Who’re you trying to fool?” Jisung retaliated, immediately turning on Chenle.

The latter smiled sheepishly, turning away from you and facing the window.

“...and now he’s sulking,” Jisung announced, to which Chenle flipped him off, causing Renjun to laugh, lightening the atmosphere.

“Seriously, though. Don't be fooled by him,” Jisung stage-whispered to you. You shot him a knowing grin and nodded.

Renjun pulled into the parking lot, and you got out of the car, trailing after them.

That was, until you came to a fancy restaurant. Chenle was ahead of everyone else, but you tugged on his sleeve, causing him to stop in his tracks.

“Chenle,” you whispered. “I’m not dressed for this.” You gestured at yourself, forcing him to take a good look at what you were wearing, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What’s wrong? I don't get it, you look fine.”

“I’m dressed in a T-shirt and pants! This is the kind of place you wear a blazer to! Or at the very least, a collared, long-sleeved shirt!” you whisper-yelled.

“Okay, firstly, calm down. Look at what I'm wearing. Look at what Renjun and Jisung are wearing. None of us are dressed formally, alright? Secondly, you look perfectly fine dressed the way that you are. Thirdly, I reserved a room. With a door.” He paused to let it sink in. “So no one is going to look inside and judge you for what you’re wearing, okay?”

“I just feel like you should have told me,” you muttered.

“Y/n, darling, do you even hear yourself? How could I have told you? It’s a surprise! Telling you would ruin the whole point of a surprise.”

You would have retorted, but the pet name that he had called you made you too flustered to respond. You pressed your lips together and looked down to hide the growing blush on your cheeks as you nodded. “M’kay.”

“Okay,” Chenle repeated, opening his hand for you to take. When you didn’t notice, he slipped his hand into yours, tugging you towards the counter. “I have a reservation for four under Mr Zhong.”

“Right this way, sir.” A waiter held several menus in his hand as he directed you to follow him, weaving through the restaurant.

“Keep your head up,” Chenle murmured softly. “It’ll take their attention away from your clothes.”

You inwardly said a prayer that the colour of your cheeks had gone back to normal, lifting your chin and doing your best to mimic Chenle’s confident strides and the relaxed gait of his walk. His grip on your hand tightened momentarily, and just as quickly as he had squeezed your hand, he let it go, smiling at you reassuringly.

“Here’s your room, sir.”

The four of you headed into the room, removing your shoes before sitting cross-legged on the rattan mat.

Chenle handed out the menus, and you took your time to look through it, trying not to think too hard about the price of the food as you looked through it nervously. When no one spoke, you gently tapped Jisung on the shoulder.

”Jisung?” He looked up, and you asked, “Um, what should I get?”

“Why’re you asking me?” he asked with a disbelieving huff. “Ask Chenle.”

“Ask me what?”

“… Nevermind.”

Chenle looked up from the menu, narrowing his eyes. Renjun stood, jerking his head to the side, and Jisung subtly excused himself. You looked at them, confused, but Chenle’s gaze remained trained on you.

”Y/n, are you okay?”

You opened your mouth, about to speak, then closed it again. You rarely found yourself at a loss for words, but at the moment you had no way to express yourself. It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful for the effort Chenle was putting in, but you simply weren’t used to it.

Chenle’s expression softened. “Shall we go back home?“

You hesitated, licking your lips anxiously. Then, you nodded.

”Okay. Let’s go, darling.”

The door handle jiggled as you stood up, and Renjun and Jisung stood awkwardly in the door frame, and Chenle waved them over. “We’re going, enjoy your dinner.”

When they said nothing, he sighed. “Yes, I’ll pay for it.”

Renjun grinned. “Thanks, Lele!”

You only realised that your bag with all your costumes were still in Renjun’s car when you passed the carpark and Chenle didn’t slow down, but the way he slipped his hand into yours made it hard to focus on anything else. You decided that would be a problem for another time.

The restaurant turned out to be near the apartment building, so you and Chenle took a nice, long stroll through the neighbourhood, his gaze fixed on you while you looked anywhere but at his face: the asphalt, the stars, the trees casting creepy shadows on the pavement.

You paid attention to the way the soles of your shoes sank under you with each step, listening closely to the sound of Chenle’s steady breathing and the feel of his fingers between yours, thumb rubbing circles against the back of your hand.

“Y/n.” When he said your name, everything else went silent—from the crickets chirping to the wind rustling through leafy trees, the world fell quiet until all you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears and the thumping of your heart.

“Chén lè.” The silence was excruciating, his name falling from your lips like a promise, a question, an offer all at once. Spelled out in the two careful syllables, pronounced perfectly in the same tones he’d introduced himself in.

He tugged on your hand, pulling you into his embrace, burying your head against his shoulder. There you stayed, tilting your head to the side so you could admire the view of him, the moon casting shadows on his side profile.

“I like you.”

Chenle smiled, and you could feel the way his lips curved up when his jaw moved against your head. “I know.”

“Since when?”

“Since you called me ‘cute’ the first time we met.”

“No. Way.” You pulled away, scouring his eyes for answers. “You’re kidding.”

He smirked. “I’m not.”

“You heard that?”

He shrugged. “You weren’t exactly quiet.”

Oh, hell. You buried your face as deep into his jacket as it would go, the fluffy material muffling your embarrassed mumbling. Chenle patted your hair, still smiling.

”Don’t worry.” When you didn’t move, he continued, “I like you too.”

“Since when?”

“Since the time you woke me up in the middle of the night, stumbling into your apartment, crashing against the gate and falling to your knees. You broke your own plant that time, the one that you keep outside the apartment, did you know that?”

“The one you gave me?” you asked, horrified.

”No, the other one. The one you bought like a month after. Anyway, I cleaned up the broken pot and the spilt soil by the light of my phone torchlight while you watched me, your sleep-deprived self blinking away sleep. That’s when I knew.”

Chenle leaned away from you, tilting your chin upwards, whispering, “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, moving in to press his lips against yours, wrists behind his neck. His hands found their way to your waist, holding you tightly as his lips moved against yours, soft and tentative and warm.

You sighed when he pulled away, causing him to quirk an eyebrow and ask, “That bad?”

“No,” you murmured, pressing kisses along his jaw. “That good.”

You would have continued kissing him, but he only grinned cheekily at you, moving your wrists away and interlacing his fingers with yours.

Chenle held onto your hand the entire way back, only letting go when you needed to dig into your pocket for your keys. The plant that he had replaced for you still sat on your doorstep next to your shoes, and it held a whole new meaning for you when you left your shoes on the rack and headed inside.

Chenle immediately noted the succulent resting on your window sill, but he said nothing until you stopped short in the middle of the living room.

”Ro…ses?”

The roses had been left in a vase on your dining table with a little bit of help from Winwin, who had asked you for your keys a couple of days before. You tenderly touched the velvet petals, struck speechless by the thoughtful gesture.

Chenle opened a small box, lifting your wrist up so he could fasten a bracelet around your wrist.

”Do you know what shǒu liàn means?” You shook your head. “It means bracelet in Mandarin. But the words for protecting your love have the same pronunciation. Shǒu liàn. Your name is engraved on the band, and there’s space for more charms,” he pointed out.

”There’s a pizza slice,” you commented. He nodded proudly. “And a monkey.” He nodded again, his proud smile growing wider.

“Do you like it?”

You swore you could hear him holding his breath as he waited for your answer.

”Not as much as I like you.”

”Oh, I know.”

And there was nothing else for you to do but to wipe that confident smile off of his face with a peck to his lips that left him blushing.

- fin -

series masterlist

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Cheshire behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Lynn stares blankly at him again. Billy lets him, like, process that one, because Lynn’s still really new to thinking for himself and also, like, new to everything, and just pretends to be busy putting the salmon on the plates with the vegetables as carefully as possible. He gives Tawky’s plate a little extra salmon, like–ratio-wise, he means. Like he gives Tawky more salmon than vegetables, he means. Tigers don’t need that many vegetables, ratio-wise. His and Lynn’s plates he makes a little more, like–evensies? Like, closer to the same amount of everything, he means. 

It doesn’t actually matter that he eats a balanced diet when he’s Captain Marvel–like, obviously–and he can’t afford to worry about “balanced” usually anyway, but he needs to set a good example for Lynn and all, and Batman did give them all these groceries and all that money, so . . . 

It’s a little weird, Billy thinks, looking down at their plates for a moment. He hasn’t–just, he hasn’t had a “normal” dinner in a while. 

A family dinner, he means.

Well–yeah. Obviously. He didn’t have a family ‘til Lynn needed one. Tawky’s the best, but Tawky’s his best friend, not, like . . . 

It’s different. That’s all. 

So he hasn’t had a family dinner since–the last time he had a family dinner. 

That was weeks before his parents were even dead, he remembers absently. He doesn’t even remember what they ate or talked about or . . . 

Billy stops looking at the plates and looks back to Lynn instead. He thinks about how he could share his powers with him, if Lynn wanted him to. 

It’ll work with anyone in his family, is the thing. He can just–do it, with anyone who’s his family. 

He just . . . didn’t have anyone who was, before. 

They settle down for dinner in the living room with Tawky and don’t really talk much. Lynn doesn’t seem to want to, and if he’s not overwhelmed yet–which Billy seriously doubts, going by everything they did and everything he remembers from every new foster home he ever got dumped in–Billy doesn’t wanna push him into getting there. He turns the TV on just to make sure Lynn won’t feel pressured to say anything or like he’s expecting him to say anything or anything like that. 

He doesn’t really know what to put on because it’s not like he watches TV anymore, really–like, just sometimes in random situations or whatever, not regularly or anything–and he doesn’t actually know what teenagers watch or if Lynn would even like what other teenagers watch, much less anything he’d pick, and on top of that he isn’t sure how the streaming stuff works even though Batman left a list of passwords and stuff. Like, he’s never used any of them, he means, and he knows Tawky hasn’t either. 

Probably Lynn also hasn’t, considering, but since he was at Kid Flash’s for a couple days . . . 

“Do you know how, um, Netflix works?” Billy asks skeptically, looking from the remote to the icons on the TV. “Like did Kid Flash have it or anything? Um–or Hulu, maybe?” 

“. . . he had Crunchyroll,” Lynn says, and Billy wrinkles his nose in confusion. 

“What’s that one?” he asks. Lynn just shrugs. Billy figures if Kid Flash had it Robin might too, though, so chances of Batman putting it in are at least, like, okay? He scrolls down the really weird and ridiculous amount of icons on the TV and makes a face as he does–why doesn’t it just turn on? Like, it’s a smart TV, he guesses? Couldn’t Batman have just gotten a normal one? That would’ve been less expensive anyway, right? 

Maybe it was on sale or something, but Billy is starting to suspect that Batman does not worry enough about things being on sale, or couponing. Like, seriously suspect. 

Ugh. That makes him feel kind of nauseous, actually, so he’s maybe just gonna try and not think about it right now. 

A few scrolls down Billy finds an orange icon with a weird white symbol that looks like a crescent moon inside another crescent moon and says “crunchyroll” across the bottom–no capitalization, he guesses?–and clicks on it. Then he checks the password list, makes another face at the string of random numbers and letters and symbols Batman used for the password and promises himself he’s gonna change them all to stuff that won’t take ten minutes to type. 

And like, probably cancel most of these subscriptions, because this list of passwords is so long. Just so, so long. 

Jeeeeesus, so long. 

“Oh, it’s anime!” he realizes in surprise as the actual service comes up. Huh. 

. . . it is so much anime. 

Billy is maybe feeling kind of overwhelmed here, compared to channel-surfing or just popping in a DVD. His parents only really had Netflix and it’s been so long he doesn’t even really remember what kind of stuff was on it. Mostly they watched movies on it, but this looks mostly like TV shows? 

“. . . was there anything you guys watched that you liked?” he asks, frowning at all the categories. And they’re weird ones, too–like, super freakin’ weird. “Children Avoid Getting Murdered” doesn’t really seem like . . . like a genre, he thinks? Like not really? 

. . . well, maybe it kinda is. But also maybe that category’s not really very good escapism, given, like–everything about their lives and all. And Lynn just got almost-murdered for the first time, so yeah, that seems like maybe a bad idea. 

. . . . . . “The Original Light Novel’s Name Was Way Too Long So the English Title Had to Be Changed in Order to Somewhat Fit the Character Limit”?

Streaming is so much weirder than he remembered. 

“No,” Lynn says. 

“Did you like anything else on TV?” Billy tries, hoping Kid Flash put on something that wasn’t Crunchyroll at some point. There’s, like, a lot of Crunchyroll, though, so he’s not really all that optimistic about his chances there. 

“No Signal,” Lynn says. Billy . . . blinks.

[just-a-fluffy-knight]

Little Sass Factory

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: canon typical language, Logan being ruthless and Wade being a teasy asshole

A/N: LETS GOOO DEADPOOL AND WOLVIE FIC‼️‼️ I’ve been wanting to write for these guys ever since I saw the movie y’all have no idea I am so obsessed with them right now 😞 AND A PLUS BEING THIS DOESNT NECESSARILY SPOIL THE MOVIE SOOOO YALL CAN READ IT 🙌🏻🙌🏻

I really hope y’all like this bc I cannot stop thinking about them and yapping about them to my buddies 😭🙏🏻 Like as much as I’d love to wreck these two, I cannot stop thinking about them as a ler duo so have this :]

OKAY HAVE FUN READING YALL 🫂❤️

Tag List: @prairleedog (THANKS FOR THE TITLE INSPO POOKALOOKS 🙏🏻❤️) @kittenwhiskers @cherry-bomb-blush

“Y’know what? I’m actually real excited for this! Moony has been wanting to write a thing with us for a while now! Good on her for pushing through the writers block, that shit sucks ass.”

“…What the hell are you talking about?! We’re looking for the kid, remember!?”

And that they were. They’d been scouring the apartment for like… six minutes now trying to find you. But somehow, you’d been able to consistently switch hiding spots without them noticing.

How? They had no clue. The pair wouldn’t have been surprised discovering you were also some kind of mutant but with advanced sneakiness, if that was even a thing.

Wade was actually having a bit of fun with this, whereas Logan… he was getting pretty pissed. More so than usual.

“Kid, I swear to god, if you don’t show yourself in ten goddamn seconds, I WILL start tearing this fucking place down!”

Logan crouched, his claws instantly coming out, making Wade panic.

“Woaaah, woah, woah, woah! Easy, Peanut, we’re trying to find ‘em! Not kill them, which may sound a little rich coming from me-“

“I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to be angry. The kid decided to pull that shit on us and then split. And now we can’t find ‘em.” The older man growled, his claws retracting back into his hands.

“And this is the moment we start working together!” Wade announced, an arm slung around Logan’s shoulder that most likely would’ve been sliced if he hadn’t allowed the latter to shrug it off in annoyance.

However, Logan swiftly turned at the sound of a noise nearby, his eyebrow raising as he went to check it out, leaving Wade to keep rambling about nonsense he didn’t understand.

“God, where’s Peter Parker when you need him?? Actually, I don’t think I’d mind a lil bit of Miguel O’hara…” Wade let out a long whistle.

“…Ah wait, he doesn’t have that Spidey-Tingle , fUCK-!”

The merc suddenly yelped as he was grabbed by his collar, being yanked towards where Logan was moving.

Meanwhile, you were curled up, both hands over your mouth as you tried to shut yourself up, anxious titters threatening to give yourself away.

You mentally berated that stupid floorboard that just had to creak at the slightest bit of goddamn pressure.

“Ohhh, Y/NNNNN! Come on out now, we’re not gonna hurt ya!”

The sound of the merc’s goofy teasing made you snicker even more, but when you heard how close Logan’s voice was to the closet, you froze.

“Why the hell do you have to talk like that?”

“Whaaat? It turns up the fun knob a little bit! And I know they can hear meeeee!” Wade crooned in that same sing-song tone, followed by an unamused huff from Logan.

“We’re gonna getcha, we’re gonna getchaaaa!”

God, could they just get out the room?? You had to throw them off again and fast. During your panicked inner monologue, you were soon met with… silence.

You relaxed, knowing you must’ve had an opportunity.

…At least you did until you realised something. When the hell is it ever quiet when those two are together?

Then, you heard a hushed voice coming from outside the closet door.

“Ladies and gents, this is the moment you’ve waited for…”

…Oh, fuck.

Without warning, the closet doors were swung open by Wade, and the merc jokingly vocalised (very off-key too) while throwing his arms up with a flourish.

“WOOOAAAAAH!”

As you yelped in fear and dashed out the closet, Wade laughed and made a glance towards… well, air.

“If ya know, ya know!”

You quickly slipped past Wade, also laughing as you ran out the door to the room you’d been hiding in.

“Yohou’ll never take me al- ACK-!”

You yelped again as two strong arms wrapped around your torso, hoisting you up and off the floor.

…Shit.

“And just where do you think you’re goin, bub?”

“Wait, wahahait! Logan, hohold on-“

“No no no no no, I’m not waiting for anything.” Logan interrupted, carrying you back into the bedroom. “Not after you pulled that shit.”

“Oh, whahat? A little bit of water?”

“I wouldn’t say the rubber band on the sink trick counts as a little bit of water, Y/N.” Wade snickered, crossing his arms and smiling proudly at the fact you’d been caught.

“Come ohon, it wasn’t that bahAD-!” You yelped again as you were tossed onto the bed, still giggling. “Whahat’s the matter? Couldn’t shake the water off, kitty cat?”

The older hero scowled threateningly at you, ignoring Wade who sniggered at the joking insult.

“What?”

“You heheard me!”

Just as Logan was about to full on lunge towards you, Wade grabbed him.

“Hey, hey! Easy now, boy.” The merc spoke like he was talking to a feral dog, making Logan glare at him and growl.

“God, what now?”

“We gotta approach slowly! It builds up anticipation…” As Wade spoke, he began slowly approaching, carefully clambering onto the bed. “And proves to this little prankster how royally fucked they are!”

And it was working. Your giggles soon turned nervous, and you curled up, attempting to shy away from Wade (but not actually putting a lot of effort into getting away, much to Logan’s surprise and Wade’s amusement).

“And theeeen I’m juuust gonnaaaaaa…”

Suddenly, the merc’s arms swiftly looped under your own, lifting and leaving your, well, everything pretty much exposed and unable to be protected.

“Go on, boy! Gettem! Gettem, boy!”

Logan’s fury was way too fuelled by Wade’s stupid comments to even allow you to get a word in edgeways, instantly lunging forwards before digging and vibrating his claw-shaped hands right into your ribs.

“OhoH SHIHIHIT-! L-Logan, gehet OHOHOFF-!” A squeal left your mouth as you burst into frantic giggles and tried to kick, only for the older man to firmly shove right back at your legs, rendering you unable to fight back.

“God, will you just- quit the kicking?” Logan growled, a surprising air of playfulness behind it as he shot his hands right down to your thighs, firmly kneading there.

Despite already squealing your ass off, you couldn’t help but make a quip.

“Mahahaking biscuits reheally isn’t gonna hehehelp you beat the kitty allegahations, buhud-!”

Another low grumble filled the room, before Logan turned his head to Wade.

“Shut the kid up.”

“Roger that!”

Wade did a dumb salute before unhooking his arms from under yours to wiggle his fingers right into your armpits.

“Getchagetchagetcha!”

“AAAAHHHHHAHA DAMMIHIHIT-!” You practically shrieked, your giggles instantly shifting into full blown laughter as you pinned your elbows to your ribs, trying to squirm away but failing thanks to that iron grip Logan had on your legs.

“Ooh! I think I got a killer spot here, Logan!”

“Hmph, that’s nothin. Watch this.”

Logan earned another screech by mercilessly drilling his thumbs into your hips, making you buck instinctively and cackle uncontrollably.

“Nuh-uh! Armpits are the killer!” Wade protested, the merc speeding up his tickles on your underarms.

“Fat chance! They’re like a banshee when you get ‘em here!”

You wanted to protest, but all you could focus on were those hands attacking your weak spots.

Eventually, you felt them thankfully let up.

…For now, anyway.

“Now, Y/N. There is a way we can squash this beef, y’know.”

Logan sighed at Wade’s words, never understanding this ridiculous slang he dropped into conversation like it was nothing.

“Maybe a simple phrase such as… ‘I’m sorry?’”

“I can do one better.” Logan interrupted. “How about ‘I’m sorry I was a jabbering little sass factory who had the audacity to pull a dumb fuckin prank on people who didn’t do jack?’”

While catching your breath, you sealed what was basically your death wish.

“Oh, yeheah, Captain Caveman? Wheheres your helicopter cluhub, you gonna hit mehe with it?”

Logan fell silent again… while Wade couldn’t help but let out a wheeze at the quip.

“Ohoh, my god! Baby’s first character comparison joke, I’ve taught you so well..!” Wade sniffed dramatically, wiping a fake tear of proudness from the corner of his eye.

However, he froze once he heard you mutter something else.

“Thahat’s right, Mr Clehean-“

A strong gasp of offence left the merc as he placed a hand on his chest, while Logan gave him a smug look at not being the only one who was insulted.

“I beg your finest fucking pardon?! You think that’s any way to talk to Marvel Jesus and his very hairy disciple here!?”

Logan gave Wade another unamused glare.

“Y’know what?”

Wade then swiftly grabbed you again.

“Give ‘em the whiskers, Peanut!”

“They’re not whiskers, they’re muttonchops, you dumb fuck.”

“Same thing! Or shall I pull the move and do a much better job as always?”

The older man snarled, lowering his head down.

“I’ll show you who does it better, asshole…”

“Okay, wait, wahait-! W-What mohove is thiHIHIS-?!”

You cut yourself off with yet another shriek as Logan suddenly blew a giant raspberry right against your stomach, the added sensations that his facial hair provided making you near silent laughter.

It was clear that Logan was basically taking out all his pent up annoyance at Wade on you, and good god it tickled super bad.

And Wade? He was being no help either, as usual.

“Awww, wook at the giggwy wittle baby! Are the Badger Berries making their tummy all tickly? And are they having the time of their life? Yes, they are! Yes, they aaare!”

…Asshole. (Even if he was right.)

You did pride yourself on lasting about five raspberries (Wade could only ever really handle two), but you eventually had to tap your hand against one of Wade’s arms that were still hooked under yours.

“Okahay, Logan. Give em a rest.”

Despite his annoyed hesitance, Logan leant back up, allowing you to get your breath back in shaky pants.

“Geheez… you twoho are juhuhust..!”

“We’re waiting, kid.”

The older man interrupted, giving you a playful but threatening look.

“Fihine… I-I’m sohorry..!” You sighed, your face red as anything as you blinked away little tears that had pricked in the corners of your eyes.

“There we go! That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Wade teased, resting his chin on your shoulder, in which you just rolled your eyes.

“Anyway, we better get ready for round two, huh?”

…Uh oh.

“WHAT?! B-Buhut I apologised!”

Wade did a pretend ‘apologetic asshole’ wince.

“Yeah… but this attack was more only to get you to apologise. This one is to actually teach you a lesson!”

“But thahat’s bullshit-!”

“Well, it’s a good thing we don’t give a fuck.”

Logan shared a look of pure mischief with Wade.

“Let’s gettem.”

And just like that, you were screaming and laughing the apartment down once more, as Logan nuzzled his furry face right into your belly again, pretending to eat it and growling playfully while Wade wrapped his arms around you and blew a raspberry right into the crook of your neck.

Yeah… you were gonna be here for a while.

[backtothefanfiction]

Crushed | Peter x Reader x Harry imagine

Summary: Your boyfriend sometimes has anger problems, but this is the first time he’s ever taken it out on you. Thank the lord his best friend was there to step in.

Warnings: angst, jealousy, unintentionally angry abusive boyfriend (it’s Harry’s illness), protective friend, needle, strangling, a little bit of infidelity (it’s just one kiss)

Word Count: Maybe 1.5k-ish (wrote in app and can’t really check. Was supposed to be a quick on but…)

A/N: this is an apology story as my other longer stories still aren’t ready yet. I needed some angst and this idea just popped into my head, soooo, let’s go.

To say your boyfriend had a bit of a temper was an understatement. It was something he got from his father along with his rich kid entitlement. He wasn’t always like this. He was usually nice. He took great pride in having bagged you for a girlfriend and loved showing you off to people. However he wasn’t stupid. He knew how people looked at you when they thought he wasn’t looking.

Jealous. Your boyfriend was easily jealous. He’d catch guys looking and would be quick to remind them who you belonged to. An angry stare here, smashed glass and punch in the face there, but he’d never taken it out on you.

That was until his father died. Suddenly Harry had even more feelings than he knew how to deal with. Often multiple feelings at the same time. That and the fact he was dying. You weren’t supposed to know, but you’d overheard him talking to Peter about it. He’d been coming around a lot more since Norman had died. He was an old friend from when Harry was a kid. You thought it was good for him, he seemed a little more at ease despite the doom and gloom. You got on well with him too. He was kind and easy to talk to. He seemed to be the only guy Harry didn’t seem threatened by around you. That was until tonight.

You had all gone out for dinner. Harry had seemed off for the whole meal but you thought it was just because of his illness. Heck, maybe his anger was just another part of his illness. He was quiet and logical, all the way through the meal. He often looked between Peter and you as you spoke so easily to one another. You seemed to laugh at every single one of his jokes and Harry could have sworn he saw a particular warmth and sparkle to your eyes.

He was silent the whole cab ride home and kept shrugging you off whenever you asked him what the matter was, his fingers flexing over his knees. When Peter asked the same question he just ignored you both and looked out the window.

You had both said goodnight to Peter when you had gotten out of the car.

“You gonna be okay?” Peter quietly asked you as Harry began to make his way to the front door of the building.

“Yeah, of course.” You nodded. “Good night Peter.” You smiled before quickly following after your boyfriend.

Being in the elevator with Harry felt like being in a pressure cooker, the higher the elevator got to the penthouse, the more tight and constricting the air felt; until you reached the top and he seemingly began to explode.

You watched on as he made a beeline to his Fathers alcohol, knocking back shot of whisky after shot of whisky and shouting about Peter.

“I saw the way he looked at you…. And when he touched you….” He ranted jealously as he paced back and forth across the floor as you sat frozen on the sofa.

You watched as the veins in his neck began to bulge slowly turning a darker shade of green. He was beginning to scare you.

“Harry, maybe I should go home.” You tentatively said standing, grabbing your coat off the arm of the sofa where you had placed it and folding it over your arm.

It was like he fully remembered you were in the room. And not in a good way. His eyes were completely black as they locked onto you. “And you,” he snarled, “you like him back don’t you sweetheart. The way you giggle at his jokes and fix his clothes and-“

“Harry. Harry stop. You’re scaring me.” You tried to say as you stumbled backwards towards the door. You were trying to not make sudden movements, trying to keep your energy calm and placate him long enough to get out the door but it was no good. Harry was gone.

Your back hit a large pillar and he was on you in seconds, his hand around your throat as he began to squeeze. “Harry!” You tried to say but it was difficult with how tightly he was squeezing. You couldn’t breath, you began to make choking noises as your finger nails reached to claw at the back of his hand. “Harry.” Your voice was high pitched and raspy. “I don’t… please.”

There was a loud thud as the front door burst open, Peter rushing in and tackling Harry to the ground. You gasped as oxygen flooded your lungs and your legs gave way, your body collapsing into a heap on the floor. Tears pricked your eyes as your chest heaved, panicked coughs wracking your body. Your vision was patchy as you tried to watch Peter and Harry, wrestling on the ground.

“Harry! Harry!” Peter said as he pinned his friend to the floor. “Harry, look at me! This isn’t you! Stop it,” Harry just kept fighting though, his body writhing underneath Peter’s, but Peter didn’t budge.

“Get off me! I hate you! You’re fucking my girlfriend!”

“Harry!”

“Get off me!”

“Harry this isn’t you. I wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t do that. Harry!”

Harry’s wails were animal like.

You knew you had to do something to help. You remembered the medicine Harry was secretly keeping in his desk drawer. Your legs felt wobbly as you tried to stand, hobbling into his office in the next room. Your fingers were frantic as you opened the desk drawer and took out a vile and fresh needle. You rested your weight against the desk as you readied the shot.

“Peter. Here use this,” you said almost defeated as you made your way back into the other room.

You had no idea how Peter was able to hold down the still thrashing Harry and take the needle from you with such steady hands. Peter wasted no time in pushing the needle into one of the bulging veins in Harry’s neck, quickly administering the medicine that began to take immediate effect. Harry’s body went limp as he calmed, his eyes closing as if he was relishing in the relief. The veins in his neck seemed to settle and the green track marks began to recede.

Peter’s body collapsed to one side on the floor, removing his weight from Harry’s body. When it was evident Harry was out for the count and sleeping off his episode, the brown haired boy finally turned to you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, scrambling across the floor to where you too had collapsed, adrenaline beginning to dissipate.

You groaned slightly as you blinked away your tears and rubbed at the ghostly feeling of Harry’s fingers at your neck. “Ow.” You said hoarsely as Peter’s hands reached out and tilted your chin up and turned you in the light to get a better look at your neck.

“Yeah, that’s gonna leave a mark.” He said.

“I thought you went home.” You croaked.

“Don’t try and talk.” He said. “Come on.” He reached out for your hands and pulled you up off the floor, walking you towards the kitchen where he sat you on one of the stools. He grabbed you a glass of water and told you to take small sips while he put Harry to bed.

“Is he gonna be okay?” You asked when he came back into the room.

“I thought I told you not to try and talk.”

You simply shot him a look in response.

“He’s gonna be fine. Well, he’ll make it through the night anyway.” Implying that although Harry was alive now, Peter might just kill him himself tomorrow for what he had just done to you.

You couldn’t help but look at Peter differently then. He’d saved your life. Harry was about to strangle you to death and he’d saved your life. “Peter?”

He raised his eyebrows at you in a way that said ‘what did I tell you about trying to talk?’ But you ignored him.

“Thank you.” You said, settling for a whisper.

He gave you a small smile. “Come on. Let’s get you to a doctor and get that throat looked at.”

You quickly shook your head no, but instantly regretted it, wincing as your throat protested against the movement. “No Doctor. They’ll report it. I don’t want him getting in trouble.” You tried to say, but your voice became more strained as you tried to get the words out.

“Fine. Fine.” Peter said, raising his arms in front of you in a calming manor, trying to ease the rising panic in your eyes. “Okay. But I am taking you home. And I’m never leaving you on your own with him again.”

“Peter, what he said about-“

Peter shook his head cutting you off. “Not now.”

He wrapped his arm around you as he guided you back through the apartment. He grabbed your coat off of the floor and placed it over your shoulders, before he placed a protective hand to your back once more and lead you out the door.

******

When you got back to your parents apartment, Peter took you all the way up to the door. Your hand froze on the door handle, key halfway to the lock when you turned back to him with tears in your eyes. The reality of the night was finally sinking in. You worried at your lip before you asked, “Will you stay?”

“I uh,” he stammered, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I mean, what would Harry say?”

“Peter please. I don’t care… I’m scared.” Your voice said vulnerably. “Please.”

His hand reached out to cup your cheek. His thumb smoothing away the tear that rolled down it. “I can’t. I wish I could but I can’t.”

“Because of Harry’s jealousy?”

“Because he’s right.”

His words stun you. They put a stop to your tears as curiosity forms inside you instead. You try to speak but he stops you.

“He’s right to be jealous.”

“Why?” Your voice is a barely audible whisper.

“Because I’m falling for you.”

You’re not sure why you do it. Maybe it’s the shock of everything. Maybe it’s because he saved your life and you feel like you owe him. Maybe it’s because you really did have feelings for him too. But you lean forward and kiss him. It’s short and sweet. Delicate.

His hand hovers at the side of your face. You know he wants more. And if it wasn’t for Harry, if it wasn’t for everything that had just happened he’d take more. But he fights it. And so do you.

You know you shouldn’t ask again, not after you just kissed him, but you are more scared to be alone right now than not say it. “Please stay. I promise I won’t do that again. Just, please don’t leave me on my own.”

He hasn’t got the heart to say no to you again. He simply gives a small nod, his hand indicating for you to open the door, a silent promise that he’d follow.

You both agreed he’d sleep on the cushioned bench under your window. You had gotten him a blanket and pillow before you crawled into bed. You both just stayed there in your positions across the room, staring at each other, you lying down, him just sat, his back leaning against the wall next to the window.

You didn’t know when you had eventually fallen asleep, but when you woke up, Peter was gone and the window had been left slightly open. Your neck felt stiff and all you wanted to do was roll over and forget everything had happened. Everything except for that kiss.

As your lips tingled and a fuzzy feeling settled into the pit of your stomach, you knew one thing for sure. Your boyfriend was a dick and you were definitely crushing on his best friend.

[won4kiss]

⋆ ｡⋆୨୧˚— CIGARETTE DAYDREAMS

𝜗𝜚 ༘⋆ ⋆˙pairing. stranger! lee heeseung x fem! reader. synopsis. in which you’re starting to give up on life after years of being tormented and bullied ,, and then suddenly he appears. genre. angst ,, fluff. wc. 1503. 𝐥u𝐧a notes ⋆.˚ i was writing this with cigarette daydreams on repeat so now im sad why do i do this to myself. ☹️ <3 🫧 — 𝓵𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝔂

if you enjoyed reading, please like & reblog !! ‹𝟹

YOU WIPED AWAY THE TEARS STREAMING DOWN YOUR FACE, BUT IT WAS A LOST CAUSE. the rain was pouring harder than ever, soaking through your thin jacket and leaving you shivering.

school had been unbearable today, as it often was. the whispers, the taunts, the constant reminder that you didn’t belong.

you were the poor girl, the one with hand-me-down clothes and an empty lunchbox. it didn’t help that your family’s financial troubles were well-known; kids could be cruel, and they nitpicked every single thing about you.

you trudged along the sidewalk, the weight of your wet backpack pulling at your shoulders. you didn’t even bother taking the bus anymore. it was just another place where you were an easy target. walking home in the rain was better than enduring more whispers and laughs.

lost in your thoughts as your body shook with every cry, you didn’t notice the sleek black car pulling up beside you until the window rolled down. you glanced over, startled, and your eyes met a handsome boy with big, round bambi-like eyes.

he was sitting in the back seat, looking at you with a mixture of curiosity and concern. his pristine uniform and polished appearance was definitely a contrast to your bedraggled state.

“hey,” he called out, his voice soft but warm over the sound of the rain. “are you okay?”

you wanted to shrug it off, to say you were fine, but the lump in your throat made it impossible to speak. instead, you just shook your head, tears mingling with the raindrops on your cheeks.

the man’s expression softened. “do you want a ride home? you look like you could use one.”

you hesitated. accepting help from someone like him, a rich student from a private school, felt strange. but the genuine look of kindness in his eyes made you nod reluctantly, praying to god that this wasn’t some other sick joke. besides, how could it get any worse?

he opened the door, and you climbed in with hesitation, you felt the warmth of the car enveloping you immediately.

the boy’s driver started the car again, and you sat in silence for a few moments, the tension easing as the heater dried your clothes.

“what happened?” he asked gently, breaking the silence.

“why were you crying?”

you sighed, the weight of the day pressing down on you. “it’s nothing. just...school stuff.”

he frowned, clearly not convinced. “doesn’t seem like nothing. you can talk to me, you know.”

the sincerity in his voice surprised you. you didn’t expect someone like him to care. “it’s just...i don’t fit in,” you admitted quietly.

“people make fun of me because i don’t have nice clothes or money. they make me feel like i’m less than them.”

his jaw tightened at your words, and he looked out the window for a moment before turning back to you. “that’s not fair. you’re worth just as much as anyone else, we’re all human at the end of the day.”

his words made your heart ache. you wanted to believe him, but years of bullying had destroyed your self-esteem. “thanks, uh..” you whispered, not knowing what else to say as you didn’t know the boys name.

he let out a soft giggle as he stuck out his hand to shake yours,

“lee heeseung.”

from that day on, heeseung made it his mission to look out for you. he would find you after school, waiting to walk you home or offer a ride. he became a friend, a protector, and a source of comfort to you.

slowly, you began to open up to him, sharing your hopes and dreams for the future.

in turn, he shared his life with you, showing you that wealth didn’t shield him from loneliness or pressure.

one afternoon, heeseung came to pick you up from school, his usual smile immediately replaced with a concerned frown as he saw the scene in front of him.

two boys from your class were leaning on you, laughing as they made you carry their bags. you were struggling under the weight, your face flushed with humiliation and discomfort.

“hey!” heeseung shouted, storming over. “get away from her, assholes.” he said with an unfamiliar, dark gaze- different from the soft and gentle look he always gives you.

the boys looked up, surprised to see someone like heeseung at your school, his private school uniform almost mocking them.

they sneered, “why help her man? she’s just some broke bitch, don’t concern yourself-“

but before they could continue, heeseung was on them. he grabbed the nearest boy and shoved him away from you, his eyes blazing with fury as he got on top of him and threw punches after punches onto the man begging for him to stop.

“touch her again, say anything or even look at her again and you’ll regret it,” heeseung growled.

“i’ll make sure you’re expelled and sued. you think you can mess with her because she doesn’t have money? think again.”

the boys, realizing they were outmatched, scrambled away, leaving their bags behind. you stood there, stunned, watching heeseung’s chest heave with anger. when he turned back to you, his expression softened immediately.

“are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle again as he felt his eyes well up with tears as he thought about you having to endure this everyday.

you nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “thank you, heeseung. you didn’t have to do that- no one’s ever done that for me..”

he shook his head, reaching out to gently touch your shoulder. “of course i did. no one should ever treat you like that again with me around.”

seeing the cuts and scrapes on his knuckles, you frowned as you you took his hand and led him to a nearby bench.

“let me take care of you now, hee.”

you pulled out a small first-aid kit from your bag, one of the few things your mother insisted you carry after she saw you come home with bruises from a bully.

you cleaned his wounds carefully, your fingers trembling slightly. heeseung watched you, his gaze intense but still comforting you.

“why are you so nice to me?” you asked quietly, not looking up from his hand.

heeseung was silent for a moment, then he sighed. “because you’re special, y/n. you deserve better than what you’ve been given.”

your heart skipped a beat, and you finally met his eyes. there was something there, something that made your chest tighten with a strange feeling you haven’t felt before.

“i like you, y/n,” heeseung confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

“i’ve liked you since the day i saw you walking in the rain. you’re strong and kind, and you don’t deserve to be treated like this when you’re the warmest soul i’ve ever met in all my years of living, i’m so in love to the point where i feel sick.”

tears spilled over your cheeks again, but this time they were tears of joy. “i love you too, heeseung. you’ve been so good to me, you make me feel like life is more than living in agony, you taught me that people can have good in them too.”

he grinned at you with a lovesick look as he leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to. but you didn’t. you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting in a gentle, soft kiss.

you cupped heeseung’s face as he grinned and wrapped his arms around your waist- not planning on letting you go anytime soon, now and forever.

the feelings going through you were completely indescribable- you know the feeling of watching fireworks go off at a summer carnival at the very top of the ferris wheel? that’s how you felt kissing lee heeseung.

as you pulled back, heeseung smiled, his eyes shining with love and happiness.

“i’m not going anywhere, y/n. you’re stuck with me now.” he said nudging his nose against yours as you giggled.

you felt a warmth spread through your chest. for the first time in a long time, you felt hopeful.

you had someone who cared about you, someone who saw your worth. and with heeseung by your side, you weren’t gonna let the words from your classmates get to you anymore- you knew your worth.

walking home that day, hand in hand, you felt the world around you shift. it wasn’t perfect, and there would still be challenges ahead of you. but with heeseung’s support, you felt stronger, braver, and hopeful.

the rain had stopped, and the sun was beginning to peek through the clouds, casting a golden glow on the path ahead.

you glanced at heeseung, his face resting with a grin and looking content. he looked back at you, squeezing your hand gently.

in that moment, you knew that no matter what happened, you wouldn’t be alone anymore, you didn’t have to suffer anymore.

you had found a friend, a protector, and even something more.

and that made all the difference in the world.

© won4kiss 2024

taglist open <3 @luvlyhee @sjyunnsworld @shawnyle

send an ask or lmk in the comments to be added !! ㅤㅤ(ꈍᵕꈍ)ㅤ

[logansargeantsbabymom]

helloooo my love🎀

i just wanna let you know you're my favourite logan writer and your writing is so good. can't wait for more of 'too good to say goodbye'!!! mwah

Thank You so much, you're too kind to me! You don't know how much this means to me! So with that being said here is

Too Good To Say Goodbye part 6

part 1 I part 2 I part 3 I part 4 I part 5 I part 6 I part 7 I part 8 I part 9 I part 10

F1 Masterlist

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

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I can't be pregnant right? I mean I had my daughter almost 5 months ago, I’m not ready to be pregnant again.

When Lando brought me back some water, I had him grab me a pair of comfortable clothes because I wanted to “take a shower”. The second Lando closed the door of the bathroom I quickly grabbed the box from the cupboard and pulled out a test.

I let out a shaky breath after I peed on the stick and waited for the results. I just had to wait three minutes for an answer. I heard footsteps coming to the bathroom and I knew I had to hide the test, I just didn’t have anywhere to hide it. I quickly shoved the the test to the back of the cupboard before the door swung open.

“Hey, I couldn’t find the PJs that you like so I brought you one of my shirts and a random pair of your Mickey Mouse shorts. Is that fine?” Lando looked so worried that I randomly got sick.

“Perfect. Thank you” I said as he placed my clothes on the bathroom sink

“Do you want me to help you shower? I know how you get when you’re sick and I don’t want you passing out in the bath again.” It’s true, when I get sick and shower my blood pressure plummets and I go down fast.

“I’m okay, I’ll call out if my blood pressure drops. I promise.” with a quick kiss to my forehead Lando left.

That means only one thing now. Time’s up and I can check the results on the test. I quickly turned on the shower to make it seem like I was about to step in before I bent down to grab the test from the back of the cupboard.

I held the test in my shaky hands, whatever this result was is gonna change my life forever. Either I’m pregnant again but with Lando’s baby this time and I get to have that joy of being pregnant again and giving Lando his first born or I’m not and I want to get pregnant by Lando. I flipped the test over and let out a shaky breath while I read the result.

positive

Holy shit, I’m fucking pregnant again. So many questions have been floating around in my mind like how am I gonna tell Lando, when am I gonna tell Lando, Is he gonna be happy, does he want to be a dad, and more importantly how is Logan going to react? No, stop why are you thinking about Logan? He has no say in any of this. Stop having such a soft spot for him.

I placed the test down on top my clothes while I stepped in the shower. I have to process all this new information before I tell Lando. Maybe I should wait until I know this pregnancy is going to stick. Last thing I want is a Theo 2.0, I don’t want to be happy about this pregnancy and find out the gender of the baby only to lose it in the end.

A soft knock of the bathroom door pulled me out of my thoughts before I heard the door creak open a little and my head shot to look out of the shower curtain to make sure that the pregnancy test is out of eyeshot of Lando in case he poked his head in. Thank god he just opened it enough for me to hear him

“Baby? Are you okay, it’s been 45 minutes?” 45 minutes?! No. I haven’t been that deep in thought, have I?

“Oh sorry, lost track of time. I’m fine, coming out now.” I yelled, trying not to sound nervous. Lando and I have talked about having a kid together but we didn’t think it would happen this fast I mean yeah we fucked raw all the time but Lando almost always pulled out. Only 4 times he hasn’t and that was all in one night, 3 weeks ago. There was no way I’m 3 weeks pregnant, I can’t be.

I mean the test says I am but false positives are a thing. I can't believe it until a doctor confirms it or a bump grows if I wait it out. Having Yelena was such a joy, it still is. That little 5 month girl brings so much joy into my world and she doesn't even know it. She's a little carbon copy of Logan and I love that. I love it because I love Logan. Now imagine a little carbon copy of Lando running around the house? Aww, just makes my heart melt thinking about it. I have so much love in my heart for Lando because I know deep down, he is who I want to spend the rest of my life with. Lando is the one I want to grow old with, I want to share a last name with him, a family, a life. I want to do and have it all and I want it all with Lando.

-

I tried to sneak out of the bathroom and have it go unnoticed by the man who's baby is snug as a bug in a rug in my uterus but to no avail.

"Babe! You had me worried, I thought you went down for the count. I was about to call 911" Lando said as he jogged to where I stood as he pressed both his hands on either side of my face while moving it around inspecting every inch of my face for a scratch tor bruise.

"Lando.." I whispered. Doubt started to seep in as I opened my mouth

"Babe?" Lando's voice barely audible, scared that if he spoke any louder he'd hear words that he never want to hear.

"We need to talk" I didn't make eye contact which only sent him more into the 'we're breaking up' frenzy

"No, please" I could see the tears welling up in his eyes

"No! It's not bad," I started as a faint chuckle leaves my lips "At least I don't think it's bad"

The look in Lando's face told me that he didn't find my little joke funny, he wanted to know what I had on my mind before he would end up being 100% again.

I attempted to grab Lando's hand to guide him to the bed but he wouldn't budge. Exhaling a sigh I just told him as it was

"I'm pregnant" I let his hand go as I searched his face for any type of reaction. I needed something whether it was anger, joy, fear, disgust, I needed SOMETHING. Instead, I was met with a blank and unreadable expression.

As the seconds turned into minutes I started to regret my decision of telling him. I started to doubt whether Lando was ready to be a dad, I mean he takes care of Yelena like she’s his own but to actually have a kid with your own DNA is way different. You have to make decisions for the well being of your child together whereas Lando just asked me if he was able to do whatever with Yelena because she’s my daughter.

“You’re preg- what?” Lando shook his head as if he was trying to refocus his eyes after he spaced out.

There was not many things that could leave Lando speechless and this was one of the many FEW things that did.

“I am pregnant. I’m sorry, I know that we discussed maybe having kids in the future but I didn’t think it was gonna happen this fast. I don’t know if you want a kid and I really don’t want to do half this pregnancy alone again like how it was when I was pregnant with Yelena and I really, REALLY don’t want to have to go through that again but if that’s what you want I will leave and you’ll never have to see me again. Wait that’s actually a lie because I work for you, well technically McLar-” Lando cut me off by smashing his lips to mine and lifting me off the group and spinning us. When he pulled away he had the biggest grin plastered on his face.

“I’m gonna be a dad?! You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, I love you so much. So so so much. Can I kiss the baby?” he gestured to my tummy

“Honey, the baby is nothing but a clump of cells right now” I light chuckle left my lips as I lifted my hands to wipe a few stray tears away from my face that I didn’t know had fallen.

My rebuttal wasn’t enough for Lando though, because he bent down, lifted my shirt just above my tummy and started to whisper sweet nothings to it.

"Hi baby, I'm your dad. You can't hear me but I already love you so much, more than you'll ever comprehend when you're born. I want you to know that I'll protect you forever and I will spoil you rotten, even if your mommy says no. Only with certain things though, she'll kill me.” This ended up going on for about an hour, so much so that while Lando was talking to our soon to be baby he’d actually picked me up and gently placed me on our bed so I didn’t have to stand while he kept talking.

My heart was filled with so much joy and happiness and I wanted to relish in this moment forever. I’d closed my eyes 10 minutes after Lando placed me on the bed and I had my hand in his hair “You’re gonna have the best Aunts and Uncles in the whole world. You’re gonna love your sister, she’s amazing. She’s gonna love you so much, your brother also loves you so much. You’re probably with him right now having a good time. Tell him his mommy and daddy miss him so much.” Lando assumed I was asleep when he said what he said and I tried so hard not to cry.

In that moment, Lando talked about Logan with the most respect than he’d had since before the fight we had.

I think seeing Lando slowly start to forgive Logan has really helped me in my healing process of becoming a new mom and also co-parenting. I would be lying if I said life wasn’t hard right now because it is. It’s terrible right now and I would do anything to change the way I’m feeling but living for Yelena makes all this pain and stress worth it.

I would go through all this pain over and over again even if it gets worse just to give my baby a good life. I would do anything for her and her wellbeing and I know Lando would do the same for our kid.

“My little baby, I would do anything for you. Even if it meant giving up racing, I would do it all for you. I’m so excited to meet you, I already love you so much. You make me want to be a better version of myself and trust me, you’re gonna be the new favorite on the paddock, well, you and Yelena. You both would top Roscoe and Leo” Lando’s hand went to rest on my tummy. Even though he knew he would just be touching fat Lando didn’t want to feel like he was gonna miss any part of this pregnancy. He’d been there for the better half of my pregnancy with Yelena and he’d done any and everything he could’ve to make me feel better. I felt safe with Lando.

————

It had been 3 months since I found out I was pregnant, which means I was just starting my second trimester and I’d woken up so drained and nauseous and I had to quickly rush to the bathroom or Lando would be unfortunately the one who had to clean the mess. I slowly made my way out of the bed making sure to take deep slow breaths and tried to distract myself so I wouldn't puke until I got to the toilet but that didn't last long.

"Baby? Is Yelena up?" The thought of responding to Lando was enough to make me want to hurl so I had to run to the bathroom and I just barely made it. After spilling my all my guts into the toilet, I looked over to see Lando holding Yelena, bouncing her up and down while pacing back and forth in our room.

"Did I wake her?" I sounded defeated and that's because I was. I'm in my 2nd trimester of this pregnancy and I'm still getting nauseous in the mornings. My first two pregnancies weren't like how this one is shaping out to be and I can't help but have a bad feeling about it.

"Do you want to get checked out? I read about somethings that could be wrong and I just want make sure the baby is okay, I mean I care about you so much more but I want both of you to be alright." Lando has been my rock throughout this pregnancy, always getting me what I crave even if he knows I won't be able to keep it down, always running hot baths for me, letting me occasionally drive his McLaren.

"Yes please, I don't know how much more of this I can take." I whimpered, it sounded pathetic but I couldn't muster up any energy to sound okay.

No one on the grid or any of the WAGS new I was pregnant. I learned my lesson last time when I told the whole world about my pregnancy with Leo and then had to very publicly grieve with Logan.

"I'll call Logan to take Yelena for the day. I'll tell him you got some type of food poisoning and I have to take you to the hospital." All I could do was muster up a little energy to nod slightly.

Lando had a sad look in his eyes. He looked like he regretted putting his girlfriend through this much pain and agony. Lando was one to always want to take her pain away but right now and until I gave birth, he couldn't.

ten minutes later Lando walked back in the bathroom, where I still laid by the toilet, with Yelena. She looked all cute dressed up in her little Williams outfit that she was gifted from James when I told the world via instagram.

"Logan's 5 minutes out, I'll put her in her play pen and then I'll be back to help you get up and dressed, okay?" Lando took my silence as an agreement and he quickly placed Yelena in the makeshift playpen in her nursery before jogging back to me.

“Okay, cmon up you go.” Lando said as he placed both his arms under mine and clasped his hands together to pull me up “good girl, okay let’s go” we started walking to our room “I’m gonna sit you on the edge of the bed and grab you some comfy clothes okay?” Lando said as he placed me at the end of the bed.

I watched as Lando went to our walk in closet and grabbed me a pair of grey sweatpants and a rhea ripely t-shirt and my favorite pair of socks and crocs.

“Okay Honey, lift your arms. Good girl, okay now I need to to stand up so I can take your shorts off, good good. Thank you honey, okay lift one leg, good. Now the other, amazing. I know you’re exhausted but you’re doing so good for me.” after a few more minutes of him helping me get dressed we heard the doorbell ring.

“COMING!!” Lando screamed before he turned his attention back to me

“Okay honey, Logan’s here so I’m just gonna carry you to the sofa. Okay, up you go.” Lando carried me bridal style to the living room before he opened the door and let Logan come in.

I saw them whisper indistinctively while simultaneously looking in my direction. Logan had a look of pity on his face and I very rarely got that reaction out of him.

“Hi babygirl, I’ve missed you so much!” Logan said as he picked up Yelena and started peppering her with kisses. Logan made his way towards the door but he stopped and turned around and looked at me

“I’m sorry you’re sick. I hope the doctors can help you feel better, Yelena needs her mom to be 100% by the time she leaves her daddy’s house” Logan tried to make a small joke just to take my mind off being sick and part of it worked. A small smile creeped on my face as Logan bid his farewells and took our daughter and left.

Lando pre started the car before he made his way back over to me.

“Okay, up we go again. Good, you’re doing so well for me. We’re almost to the car, just a few more steps,” he unlocked the car and opened the passenger door “In we go, you’re doing so good for me. I love you so much” Lando put my seatbelt on for me before closing the door and jogging to the drivers side and starting driving to the hospital.

————

I’d gotten admitted into the hospital about 30 minutes ago and the doctors had hooked me to an IV for fluids and electrolytes, since I couldn’t keep anything down and I was severely dehydrated while they ran several tests to determine what was wrong with me.

After being poked and prodded and waiting for results for what felt like forever, the doctor and his follow student finally came back with some results.

“Hello Ms L/N, as you know we took several tests and at first we couldn’t figure out what was wrong with you but after the most recent test we ran, we found out that you in fact have developed hyperemesis gravidarum, It’s where you have extreme morning sickness during just about all stages of your pregnancy, there is one way to help with that.” The doctor had explained what my condition was

“Well, how can you help my wife? She’s suffering and she’s severely dehydrated, this obviously isn’t good for her or the baby.” Lando is always worried about my health but right now he was 100x more protective of me, probably because I’m carrying precious cargo.

“Well, I can start her right now on this pump that’ll inject her with Zofran which is basically anti-nausea medicine so you’ll be able to eat and drink without throwing it up” The doctor went on to explain the pros and cons of this little device but I was too out of it to listen. The IV that was injecting me with fluids was helping me for sure though, I felt like I had a lot more energy now than I had when I first got admitted.

“Thank you so much Doc. We really appreciate everything you did for us. Oh thank you ms, we really appreciate it” Lando said to the nice student doctor who had just wheeled a wheelchair into the room.

“You’re welcome. Ms L/N, I'm gonna help you up okay, are you okay with me putting my hands here to help you?" The doctors assistant, Kelani asked.

"Yes, that's fine. Thank you" My voice hoarse from vomiting non-stop for just about 4 months on end.

--------

When we got back home, I felt 30x better. I hadn't felt this good since 2 months after I had Yelena. I felt like myself again and boy was I hungry.

"Hey babe?" I whispered, unsure if Lando was awake seeing as when we got home immediately went to our room to put on a movie and take a nap, I had one hand combing through his curls while my eyes were laser focused on the movie currently playing on the screen. We had put on Captain America: The First Avenger before we took a nap and when I woke up, I saw that we were just about half way through Captain America: The Winter Soldier (my personal favorite movie)

"Yes my love? Are you okay? Are you gonna be sick?" Lando's head immediately shot up assuming the worst

"Quite the opposite actually. I'm starving" I watched as Lando's face contorted in confusion. Ever since I found out I was pregnant I knew it was going to be hard because the first trimester is always tough with all the nausea and not wanting to eat but this pregnancy I didn't want to even look at food because I wanted to vomit. I felt like there was no point in eating or drinking anything if I wasn't going to be able to keep it down and there were times where Lando had to force me to eat.

"Oh! Yes, I'll grab you anything you want. What are you and baby in the mood for? I mean it when I said I'll go anywhere"

"Baby is really in the mood for Wingstop, I don't know, baby's saying something about Mango Habanero wings and Voodoo fries" I chuckle

"Okay, I'll be right back" Lando said as he leaped from the bed and was about to run out of the room

"Wait!" That stopped Lando dead in his tracks "I want to come with"

Lando was quickly right back at my side as he was when he left and he helped me get up from the bed and then we made our way to the front door.

Opening it, we were met with a surprise. Logan was standing there with Yelena in his arms.

"Hey sorry, I ran out of milk for Yelena do you have any frozen breast milk?" Logan asked as he stared at the floor, almost as if he was ashamed to ask his Ex-Girlfriend for food for his baby.

"Oh yeah, let me grab you some. Are you gonna take her this weekend since it's Thursday and this is technically 'your weekend'?" Me and Logan have 'scheduled weekends' that we're supposed to have Yelena ordered by the courts but since we technically work together and we're on good terms, we take turns alternating each week. I started to make my way to the kitchen before stopping dead I my tracks at what Logan said next.

"Yeah, I just wanted to come grab some milk because I know we discussed rarely using formula when you were pregnant with Theo."

Hearing his name always stings, no matter how much time passes.

"Um, yeah. Well- uh here's the milk." I said as I handed Logan a little thermal bag of 10 frozen bags of frozen breast milk.

"Thank you. Sorry to bother you again, say 'bye' to mommy Yelena" Logan poked her tummy with one finger and she lifted her little arm and waved it in my direction.

All I kept thinking was man, I can't wait to relive all these 'first' moments with this baby.

--

Lando and I waited about 15 minutes to leave after Logan did. We both made our way to the car in a quiet but comfortable silence.

The Wingstop was about 10 minutes away which only meant one thing "All Too Well (Taylors Version) (10 minute version)"

By the time the song ended we'd already placed the order online and just had to wait until the pickup time to go in.

I think now that this Zofran is kicking in, I'm just so excited to eat.

"C'mon babe, It says it's ready." I sounded more excited than usual and rightfully so; I can (hopefully) actually eat.

We had gone inside hand in hand, Lando went to grab the food while I was getting our drinks. All was going well but I should've known that I couldn't keep my peace and pregnancy a secret for long and this proved it.

In a matter of minutes after grabbing the food, both of our phones were being bombarded with a lot of incoming texts and calls, one of them caught my eye though

Lily: Check your instagram now!

What? I opened instagram scared and when I saw the first thing on my feed I let out the biggest sigh and looked over at Lando who was already looking at me with a deflated look on his face.

"So much for telling them on our own terms eh?"

-----

HII!! I'M TRYING SO HARD TO GET THESE CHAPTERS OUT AS FAST AS POSSIBLE BUT I WANT TO MAKE THEM GOOD!

GENDER REVEAL IN THE NEXT CHAPTER I PROMISE 🥰🥰🎀🎀

taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti@dhanihamidi @Ggasly.p @tellybearryyyy

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

the best crabs the bay area has to offer!

pairing: ex-husband leon x reader

cw: asshole leon, oral sex, mention of STIs, mention of degradation, leon's literally so gross and awful

summary: you and leon take the kids on vacation. leon fucks around per usual and you both find out why maryland is famous for crabs

a/n: sorry

wc: 3.8k

You and Leon got divorced years ago, citing ‘irreconcilable differences’ which meant his alcohol intake and workaholic tendencies got in the way of having a functioning marriage, but he begged you for joint custody. If the courts knew the truth, they’d give you full custody. In hindsight, you were angry with yourself for letting him guilt you into that arrangement—one week at yours, the next at his. You both lived in the same school district, so it wasn’t a problem in that regard. 

You’d just picked up the kids from Leon’s when they began to dish out gossip by their own volition. The little loud mouths got their loose lips from their father. 

Leon had a new “girlfriend” if you could call a woman under 25 the girlfriend of a man in his 40s. 

Your son, the older of your two children, was going on and on about some “Tara”.

“Who’s Tara?” You asked.

“Dad’s girlfriend,” he said 

“Not babysitter ‘Tara’?” 

Better not be, you thought.

“She used to be our babysitter,” he said, making you want to bang your head against the steering wheel.

Seriously, Leon? 

“She’s a whore,” your daughter said. You almost crashed the car.

“Excuse me? Where did you hear that?”

“Dad.” You should’ve known.

“Don’t say that word again, it’s not a nice thing to say about someone.”

“Then why did dad say it to Tara?”

“When did he say it to Tara?”

“I heard him in his bedroom and he said it.”

Jesus Christ, you thought, I guess that’s better than him verbally abusing a woman, especially in front of his kids.

“Okay, I’ll have a talk with him about his language.”

And you did. You texted him later that night.

You: Keep it down in the bedroom.

Leon:?

You: Your daughter just told me you called your girlfriend a ‘whore’. Very classy, Leon.

Leon: mad that I have a sex life?

You: Quit acting like a teenager. I could not care less about your sex life so long as you keep it away from my daughter.

Leon: u mean our daughter?

You: For now. You better learn to grow up if you want to keep it that way.

Leon: is that a threat? or is it menopause talking?”

You: Act your age not your girlfriend’s age.

Leon sent an eye-rolling emoji and that was the end of your chat.

You ended up sipping a margarita next to Leon at a tacky beach bar. He was still so damn persuasive even post-divorce. 

“How’s Tara?” you asked after the alcohol had given you a bit of a buzz. 

“I wouldn’t know,” he said, nonchalantly.

“Left you for a man her own age?”

“Funny. I broke it off, actually.”

“Why? Was she getting too old? Got her first period and you couldn’t handle it?”

“Ha ha. She wanted to get serious, and I don’t need that kind of stress in my life right now. My blood pressure is high enough.”

“You’re just hooking up with women shamelessly? With your kids around?”

“I’m not just ‘hooking up’. At least, not when I have the kids.”

“Mommy!” your daughter called. 

“Hold this,” you said, handing your drink to Leon, “I trust you won’t spike it.”

“Won’t need to, sweetheart,” he said with a wink. 

You covered your hand from your kids to flip him off as you walked out onto the sand to look at the shells your daughter had found you. 

Leon took a good look at your ass in your swimsuit. 

“Damn, mama’s still got it,” he said to himself. 

A younger, blonder woman came over to talk to him. The prey stalked the predator, how unusual. 

“Sitting all alone?” she said in that voice. 

“At the moment,” he said, “My ex wife’s out there.” he pointed to you playing with the kids. 

“Ex?”

“Correct.”

“Are those your kids?”

“Uh-huh. The only good things she gave me.”

Though she was pretty good at giving head too, he thought. He began to miss it. 

When you walked back to your seat, Leon handed you your drink, and said, “Don’t worry, babe. I kept it safe for you.”

“Don’t ‘babe’, me,” you say sitting down.

“Why not? I thought you liked that.”

“When we were married. But, I don’t want my ex-husband calling me pet names.”

“‘Kay, babe.” You looked over to tell him off and he winked at you.

“I hate you,” you said. 

“No you don’t,” Leon said, walking off to God knows where.

You spied Leon snaking his arm around a pretty girl’s waist at the bar. The bartender ID’d her, though Leon got out his credit card, so you knew he was paying. He flashed his platinum American Express like Patrick Bateman and a part of you thought about how gross and pathetic he was for hitting on college-aged chicks as a middle-aged man, but the other part of you remembered that you didn’t get ID’d at the bar, and you began to search up plastic surgeons in your area.

He brought new Tara, who was actually named Kelly, over to your shared seating area. This new girl and the last were ostensibly the same – too young for him, great body, bimbo-ish.

You couldn’t hate her. She was sweet girl. Lacking in brain cells, but sweet. Leon left the two of you alone for a moment. He seemed torn between saying something euphemistic and polite to her and something more vulgar to you.

He settled on, “Uh, I’ve gotta go see a man about a horse.”

Kelly seemed to think it was funny, but it might just be the way he smiled when he walked away. You weren’t drunk enough to think he looked like anything other than a complete dumbass.

“Is he always this cute?”

“No, he’s on his best behavior right now.” Because you told him to be (and yet his best behavior was still a bit sleazy).

You figured Leon might be up to some other shenanigans because you didn’t see him for quite some time. Your kids came and went, showing you the things they found on the beach. They seemed to be unphased by this random woman you were sitting with – granted, she was good with kids. Maybe she’s a babysitter, too, you thought. It made you wonder how many girls Leon was bringing home while your kids were with him.

“You’re such a great mom,” Kelly told you. 

“Thank you. That’s really nice of you to say.” You were genuinely flattered. It was hard being the strict parent, a role you were forced to take on when you decided to procreate with Leon S. Kennedy.

“I hope one day I’ll be as good as you are.” You wanted to tell her that she could be, but not with Leon as a father. Not because you were possessive, but because Leon was a dickhead. You were pretty sure you caught him grabbing another woman’s ass while he was away on his errands, which turned out to include playing Keno. You were pleased to know he was being responsible with his salary.

“Hey, ladies,” Leon walked up from behind and stood between your chairs, “how’s it goin’?”

“Better before you got here,” you said. 

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he said, all pouty. He walked around to Kelly and whispered—loudly enough for you to hear - “hey, sexy,” and he kissed her on the cheek. She giggled, girlish. Ew. 

Leon spent a couple of days hanging out with new girl- no wonder he needed you to come on vacation with him and the kids. It was almost like having three kids, except Leon was shamelessly fucking the oldest of the three. Not in the condo you rented, of course. It didn’t matter that he was the breadwinner, he knew that you would’ve made a fuss about it in front of the kids. You probably would’ve called him a whore. Rightfully so. He was a whore.

You tried to forget about his antics and focus on the fact that your kids were happy. You spent your days walking along the boardwalk, playing skeeball at the arcade, sitting in a damp swimsuit at a local pizza chain, wiping ice cream off your kids mouths and washing sand off their feet. While Leon did whatever he pleased, as usual. This included getting a t-shirt that said “99 problems but a beach ain’t one” as well as a henna tattoo that matched Kelly’s.

The number one perk of your vacation was that it reminded you why you and Leon got divorced in the first place- Leon, his pathetic, dickish behavior. It made you forget all those nights you spent missing him. Your vibrator could never do what Leon could.

The only problem was: your vacation was scheduled for two weeks, but you only had one at that condo, the second was spent at another. You should’ve known by now that you needed to book your beach rentals earlier in the season, or else you’d have to scavenge for a place with even one week available.

The first place had three rooms, so you and Leon could sleep in separate beds. The second only had two, which meant you were stuck with a roommate for the remainder of your vacation. You had secretly hoped that he would spend more time with Kelly, maybe even cozy up to some of her sorority sisters and get himself a bed at their place. But alas, Kelly’s spring break was only one week, so she had to return to school before your vacation was up.

You didn’t doubt Leon’s ability to find another girl, especially when this beach town was swimming with doppelgangers. For whatever reason, he stopped flirting with other women. You expected him to be slutting himself out to every waitress at Seacrets, aka the bay’s tackiest bar. Maybe he really liked this girl, you thought. That would be laughable.

On your first night in the new place, you put your kids to bed and retired to your room with Leon.

“Think you can handle sleeping in the same bed with me for a week?” he said.

“I did it for years. I think I can do a week.”

“But that was when we used to make sweet, passionate love and fall asleep in each other’s arms,” he said dramatically. 

“Yeah, well, too bad you and Tara are over because I bet she’d give you that.”

“Mm,” he hummed on his way to the bathroom, “could never do it like you, though.”

You must’ve misheard him, right?

“Huh?”

“You heard me,” he poked his head out of the bathroom door to meet your eyes and his expression, while mischievous, gave way to something genuine. 

You laughed it off, but had to hide the fact that he had you flustered. 

After a moment, you approached the bathroom door, which was cracked.

“Can I get in and brush my teeth?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said with a mouthful of toothpaste.

You opened the door and shared the sink with him. Even in the white light over the bathroom mirror with toothpaste on his lips, Leon looked sexy as ever. That was the one thing that never changed about him. You met his eyes in the mirror and he winked at you. Goddammit. 

When he finished brushing, he slid past you to walk back into the bedroom, placing his hand on the small of your back. It was the smallest gesture. It could even be polite, he was just squeezing past you. It was normal. But it wasn’t. It was Leon, and he could read you like a book. He was playing the same game he always had and he was winning. 

When you walked back into the room, he openly ogled you from the bed. 

“Shirtless? Really?” you asked him, a facade of displeasure across your face. 

“It’s hot as hell.” He shrugged. “Especially with you in here,” he said much lower. 

“God, you’re so cheesy,” you said, while looking through your suitcase for pj’s. 

“You love it, though.”

“I do not.”

“Do too.”

You did, in fact, love it. Leon only had two modi operandi: he was either cheesy as hell or a total douchebag. When you put those two together, most would see it as charming. He was the kind of guy you’d want to take home, but not to a wedding chapel. He tricked you—and himself—into marriage with phenomenal sex. If that’s all there was to life, you’d still be married. 

“Leon, I lost my pajamas.” Either you left them at the last place, which was entirely possible considering you were so caught up in corralling the kids and shoving their stuff into their tiny suitcases. Or, Leon stole them. You doubted the second one because none of your panties seemed to be missing. You knew him to be a panty thief and you doubted that he’d reformed since your divorce.

He knew you were asking to borrow clothes, but he said, “Oh? Gonna go for the panties-only look tonight then? I don’t have a problem with it.” Oh, maybe he was the pajama thief all along. Maybe he was letting you choose what pair of panties he’d get to see you wear.

“I was going to ask to borrow a t-shirt.”

“Maybe you should’ve been nicer to me.” He clicked his tongue and gave you a smug smile. 

“Are you really going to be like that?”

You knew he was being a dick, but he’d give in if you really wanted it that badly. And yet, you let him continue to try to rope you into sleeping with him. He hadn’t asked for that yet, hadn’t even really hinted at it, but that’s what he always wanted, despite being in his 40s. You’d think a man’s sex drive would’ve gone down by then. 

“We could make a deal,” he offered.

“What’s the deal?” You crossed your arms. 

“Clothes off, then we’ll talk.”

You gave him a look, pretending to be pissed, but you got down to your underwear.

“Goddamn,” he said. 

“What?” you asked, covering up a bit. The thong you wore wasn’t exciting, just a thin cotton piece of fabric in a solid color.

“I’m regretting that divorce. You look even sexier than I remember.”

“Shut up. You want me because I’m the best option you have. I’m the only woman in the room and all you know how to do is think with your dick.”

“That’s harsh. You know it’s not true, though, babe. I’d choose you over any other woman.”

“You would not.”

“I wouldn’t? Didn’t you hear me say that no one ever does it like you?”

“You said one girl doesn’t do it like me.”

“I meant all of them.” He lifted your chin. “You’re the only girl I’ve ever married. Don’t you think that says something?”

You scoffed. “So it wasn’t about love? I was just the best sex you’ve ever had?”

“It was both. The sex was great, though, you can admit it.”

He was already pulling you into bed and you were letting him. It would be less embarrassing if you were more drunk. You had two drinks. Hours ago. You were both dead fucking sober. 

“I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered into your ear. 

“Fine. If you promise not to tell, then I’ll admit it. You’re the best I’ve ever had.”

“Really? No one better in all these years?”

“Nope.”

“You must think highly of me, then. I’m flattered, really, but who knows if I’d live up to those expectations.”

“Memories, not expectations.”

“Old memories. Maybe I’m not as good as I used to be… or maybe I’m better.”

“Are you trying to proposition me?”

“I’m not trying. I am.”

“I shouldn’t,” you said.

“Why not? This is probably the most wholesome sexual opportunity you’ve had in years. It’s romantic, really. We’re parents, taking the kids on vacation. It’s not like you’re some random chick from the bar. You’re the woman I married, the mother of my kids, the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

“I’m the only woman you’ve ever loved?”

“Yeah,” he said as if it should’ve been obvious. 

“You swear?”

“On my life,” he said, looking you in the eyes. 

“If I do this with you, you’re not going to make fun of me, or… I don’t know. You know how I am, I just don’t want you to be so flippant about it.”

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. How ‘bout we don’t have sex? How ‘bout I show you how I feel about you?”

You knew what he meant and you knew what he could do with his mouth. 

“How do you feel about me?” You asked. 

He cupped your cheek and leaned in close. “May I?”

“Mhm,” you nodded and he kissed you. It was sweet. It wasn’t dirty at all, at first. It was tender, almost loving. 

“Lie down,” he said in between kisses, “Get comfortable.”

And you obliged. Why would you refuse a man going down on you? He kissed you from your mouth down to your stomach, stopping to play with your tits, sucking on each of them. 

“They’re so perfect,” he mumbled. 

He pressed a kiss to each one before he makes his way downward. He tugged off your panties with his teeth and began kissing your thighs. 

“Would you give me the honor -” he started. 

“Shut up,” you said with a laugh. You pushed his head forward, urging him to get on with it.

He did as you asked and buried his face between your thighs. He has gotten better at this, you thought. You remembered a clean-shaven man who now had a five o’clock shadow. It tickled your inner thighs as his tongue ran over your folds. He sucked on your clit with meticulous reverence. 

You threw your head back and put your hands in his hair. It spurred him on further. He was the only man you’d ever known who understood the meaning of ‘don’t stop’. 

“Leon,” you moaned and he hummed in response, not taking his mouth away. “I’m so close,” you said. 

You could see his smile by the look in his eyes while his lips were occupied. His fingers curled against your g-spot and he pressed a hand on your abdomen to heighten the sensation. All the while, his tongue tended to your clit. Your orgasm hit you and you had to cover your mouth to hold back your moans. Leon didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and he’d licked up every drop you’d given him. 

He finally came up for air and you were still catching your breath. 

“Jesus Christ,” you said when he lied down next to you. 

He laughed, looking a bit proud of himself. 

“Do you want me to-?”

“Only if you want to, babe,” he said with a kiss on your forehead. 

“I wasn’t going to because I wanted to see if you could be selfless for once, but god, Leon, after that, I’d feel bad for not paying back the favor.”

“Hey, I’ll gladly accept, but you know I enjoyed myself quite a bit already. I wouldn’t call it selfless.” Yeah, that’s right: Leon was truly unable to be selfless, but at least you knew he genuinely enjoys going down on you. 

“I can tell,” you whispered, palming his hard cock. You could feel a wet spot forming already. 

“All for you,” he said.

“Why thank you,” you said as you dipped your head under the covers. 

You didn’t play the same teasing game Leon did. You made quick work of his underwear and got your mouth on his dick as quickly as you could. 

“God, I was so right,” he said, “Nobody does it like you. Not even close.” He groaned when you cup his balls. You could tell he was getting close already, so you took him as deep as you could. He had to bite his knuckles to hold back moans. 

He only took his fingers away from his mouth to warn you, panting, “Gonna come.”

You appreciated the warning, but as usual, you kept going, letting him come down your throat. Spitters are quitters.

You emerged from the covers to see his dazed expression. He smiled stupidly at you, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” you said. 

“Still want that shirt?”

“I think your arms should be warm enough.”

“I think so too,” he said as he pulled you into a hug.

You laughed and covered your face. 

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“I can’t believe I just did that. I fucking hate you, and you still got me in bed with you.”

“Maybe you don’t hate me that much, then.”

“No, I hate you even more because you’re so damn charming. And sexy. And cheesy.” Maybe that orgasm was a truth serum.

“Well, I don’t hate you,” he said.

“I’m shocked.”

“I thought I showed you how much I love you a minute ago. Do you need a little reminder?”

“I think I need a big reminder.”

“That’s my girl.”

That big reminder turned out to be a big mistake. You found that out the hard way when you and Leon spent the next morning at urgent care. Hindsight is 20/20, they say. You thought your foresight was pretty good, but the gas-station sunglasses, caked in sunscreen messed with your vision. Or maybe it was the margaritas.

“They say Maryland is the best place to get crabs, don’t they?” Leon joked with the nurse, who only seemed mildly amused.

“What does that mean? We didn’t get crabs,” your daughter said loudly on your trek back to the waiting room.

“You didn’t get crabs, honey,” Leon said.

“I thought crabs was an STD,” your son said. Luckily, he’d waited until you got into the car, saving you some of the shame.

“Where’d you learn that?”

“Mason told me his mom got it.”

“Which one is Mason’s mom?” Leon asked. “Is she the one with the fake tits?”

“I dunno.”

“Wasn’t it Mason’s birthday last weekend?” you asked in an effort to change the subject.

“Yep,” Leon said, having his own revelation, “that was a great party.”

When you returned to your home away from home, you put on a movie for the kids so you could distract them while you spoke to Leon.

“We need to have a talk,” you said sternly.

“Whoa, what’s got you all crabby now?”

You pulled him by the arm into the kitchen.

“You had a fun time with Mason’s mom at that party, Leon?” You asked, one hand on the counter, the other on the island, caging him in, so he couldn’t walk away with a cute quip.

“I may have, yeah.”

You stood there, using all your mental fortitude not to slap him – not when your kids were close enough to see it. You hoped your ice-cold gaze would be enough to scare him.

“Hey, listen,” he said, gently placing his hand on your arm, “once that fancy cream we got kicks in, I’ll give you a really nice apology.”

“I would love to hear the words ‘I’m sorry’ come out of your mouth for once.”

“How ‘bout I try to spell it with my tongue?”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

Yes, you did.