#breezy's cafe

[kxmikomrade]

I assume that autumn is your favorite season

HELL YEAHHH

[luveline]

hi!!! i have a request for roommate!spencer where he's injured during a case and reader show up at the hospital because she's his emergency contact but the team is really confused wondering who's this stranger fussing over spencer. hope you like it, love you!

thank you for requesting honey!! love you<3 fem!reader

“Close your eyes,” you command, voice all blown up and grand, already smiling. “Close your eyes, Spencer.” 

“No.” He squints groggily. “What are you doing?” 

“Close your eyes.” 

“No, Y/N, what are you doing?” he asks. 

You shake your spray bottle at him. He sighs a long-suffering sigh and finally admits defeat, his tired eyes shuttering closed all too easily. You rest your knee on the side of his bed and hear the metal squeaking at your added weight, your hand gentle as you cover his forehead. “You have greasy hair,” you say sympathetically. “This is gonna feel much nicer.” 

You blast him with dry shampoo, his brown hair turning white with powder. You drop the can in his lap and set about rubbing the powder into his hair until the grease is soaked up, and his hair feels less miserably lank. 

“When are they gonna let you shower again?” you ask quietly. 

You’re still touching his hair. More for him than you, you hope he feels comforted, but mostly you just wanna affirm to yourself that he’s all in one bruised piece. Your heart still aches as much as it did when you got the phone call in the first place —Spencer Reid’s next of kin? 

You suppose that’s you. 

“I don’t know.” 

You take his hair back into his current parting. “Well, let’s hope it’s soon. How are you liking the sponge baths? Are they awful?” 

“Humiliating.” 

Just outside of Spencer’s hospital room, Hotch and JJ stand together with a bag of essentials. They’d drawn to a sudden stop when they realised Spencer had company. “Who is that?” she asks. 

Hotch, used to knowing everything, frowns very deeply. He doesn’t know who you are, but from the way you’re touching Spencer’s hair and face, he should. 

JJ sounds a little put out. “She doesn’t work here.” 

“No, I don’t think so,” Hotch says. His frown lightens as you laugh and scratch Spencer’s hair back behind his ears. 

“Is it unkind of me to think he didn’t have any friends?” JJ asks. 

Hotch knows Spencer has friends. He’s summoned Spencer from chess games and fan clubs, picking him up occasionally on the way to the office on cafe sidewalks as he waved goodbye to a glasses-wearing bibliophile, often in coats too big for them or with hair in need of a trim. Spencer attracts the unconventional because he, as anybody in this line of work tends to be, is inordinary. So JJ probably is being unkind, but Hotch knows what she means. 

You look completely regular. You settle on one thigh on his bed while the other keeps you up and put your hand on his chest, chatting breezy words they can’t hear through the glass.

Spencer curls into you slowly. 

“You’ll be home soon,” you say, rubbing his shoulder, “don’t worry.” 

Hotch’s eyebrows rise of their own accord. He and JJ excuse themselves for coffee before they’re spotted, and when they return, you’re gone. “Spence, who was that girl?” JJ asks. Hotch notes the slightest line of jealousy tugging under her curiosity. 

He sounds as though he could use some more pain medication, and a good night's sleep, but he’s proud as he says, “That’s my roommate. I told you about her.” 

“Ah, your roommate,” Hotch says. 

“What’s that mean?” Spencer asks. 

“Nothing, Spencer,” Hotch says, using the young man’s first name in a rare show of affection. “That’s just an irregular word for it. I haven’t heard it in a while.” 

JJ laughs. Spencer hides his face with both hands, a smudge of lip balm on his hand shining under the stark hospital fluorescents. “I’m too tired,” he complains. 

Hotch hadn’t seen you kiss him, but he can imagine how it might have happened, how you’d leaned in for a kiss on the cheek goodbye and Spencer overwhelmed himself thinking about it. Or maybe it’s just an innocuous smudge. Maybe it’s nothing at all. 

“We live together,” Spencer mumbles. “I couldn’t afford to live by myself at first, it’s D.C.” 

“And now?” Hotch asks. He knows Spencer is on good enough money to afford an apartment by himself these days, a big one. He has no dependents. 

“Didn’t seem fair… She’s nice. She’s, like, my best friend.” 

“Don’t let Morgan hear you say that,” JJ laughs. 

Hotch isn’t sure she gets it, but he does. “Well, you can ask her to come back. We have work to do.” 

Spencer pretends he’s hesitant to pick up the phone. Your reply is an immediate beep. Hotch knows a good friend when he sees one. 

[kaiijo]

SUPER-GLUED JAR PRANK — [WIND BREAKER]

characters: sakura haruka, umemiya hajime, hiragi toma, togame jo content: gn! reader, a (very old) tiktok prank notes: they’re so silly, i love them

sakura haruka ✶

in hindsight, you should have known giving sakura the super-glued jar might not have been your best idea but his bright pink face paired with an inevitable tirade were too good to pass up. you can’t take all the credit for it — kotoha played a role too, supplying you with a nearly-empty jar of sprinkles and some acting. 

your boyfriend is sitting with nirei and suo when you emerge from cafe potus’s pantry with the jar. she feigns disappointment when she asks, “any luck?”

“no,” you say, shaking the jar in your hand for effect.

“it’s such a waste to just let all that stuff sit at the bottom.”

you turn to sakura and asks, “can you try opening it, sweetheart?”

sakura’s face flushes at the pet name, which makes his friends giggle, and he takes the jar from you. with each attempt his make, sakura scowls more and more, huffing as he sets it down. nirei suggests that he tap the lid against the edge of the table but sakura uses just a bit too much force and the glass breaks. you gasp and the trio at the table jumps back with fast reflexes. 

kotoha’s already running to grab a broom and dustpan and you’re reaching down to pick up the big pieces. sakura’s hand closes around your wrist before you can and he says, “are you crazy? you could hurt yourself, let me do it.” 

“no one touch it,” kotoha orders as she sweeps the shards up. nirei is apologizing profusely and sakura mutters an apology, complaining about how he almost had it and how they shouldn’t make jars that sealed that tight. when you come clean to him about gluing the lid, he’s huffing and puffing at you, and you make it up to him with a lot of food and a lot of kisses and cuddles in private. 

umemiya hajime ✶

you find umemiya on the roof of furin high, tending to his garden. your heart swells as you hear him coo at his plants, carefully and lovingly watering them. you almost feel bad about this little prank. almost, but you remember the prank he pulled last week with that fake rubber bug in your lunch so you don’t feel too bad.

you thank every star in the sky that sugishita’s not here at the moment because you’re pretty sure this prank would be the last thing you’d get to do if he was. “hajime?” you call to him.

 his head immediately swerves to look at you and his smile is as bright as ever as he set down the water can and makes his way over. he presses a loud, messy kiss against your cheek, and you don’t even have to ask umemiya; he notices the jar in your hand and says, “i can help you open that!”

“thanks,” you say and he takes the jar from you. 

he’s beaming when he replies with a breezy “no problem, baby!” and firmly grips the lid, giving it a firm twist. his smile dims a little and he tries again with no luck. umemiya squares his feet and gives it another go, and you can’t deny that seeing his arms bulge with exertion against the sleeves of his white t-shirt is in any way unpleasant.

he slides on his gardening gloves and tries again. the lid doesn’t budge and umemiya is pouting at the jar and mumbling, “i’ll be right back.” he disappears into the school for about twenty minutes. he comes back with a look of defeat, shoulders slumping. “i can’t help you,” he says. “i’m really sorry.”

oh my god, you feel your stomach twist in sympathy and you answer, “i know. i’m really sorry, haji, it’s because i super-glued the lid.”

he blinks once, twice, and then his smile is back on his face. he wipes some sweat off his brow and sighs in relief, “phew! i thought i’d totally lost my strength there for second!” you can’t help but stare at him as he grins, outshining the sun. what did you do to deserve this angel?

hiragi toma ✶

you walk into your living room, where hiragi is setting up a movie for the two of you to watch. “any movie in mind?” he asks as he leans back in the couch, remote in hand. 

“howl’s moving castle?” 

“again? we watched that last weekend too.”

you grin at him. “it’s not my fault howl’s so cute.”

your boyfriend rolls his eyes, grumbling, “he’s not that cute. and he’s not real.” before you can argue, hiragi motions at the jar in your hand. 

“can you help me open it?” you ask him, holding it out to him. 

he eyes it suspiciously. “you hate pickles.”

“i want to try them again.”

“but why buy an entire jar if you want to just—”

“can you please just open it? help me start this new journey in my life?” he still looks confused but, ever the dutiful boyfriend, takes it from your hand. 

one attempt. two, then three. by the fourth, you feel a giggle threatening to burst forth but the familiar sound of the air pressure releasing has your jaw dropping. hiragi doesn’t take the lid off entirely, letting it sit on top as he hands it back to you. he takes in your awed expression with a frown. “is everything okay?” he’s already reaching for his stomach tablets. 

“i super-glued this,” you say, still a little starstruck. “like, with a lot of glue. you weren’t supposed to be able to open it.” 

you show him the lid and as he swallows down the pill. he sighs, “you’re going to be the death of me.” 

togame jo ✶

“these looks so good!” tomiyama says, marveling at the spread of sandwiches and snacks you had brought to the park. he had been the one to propose a shishitoren picnic, though togame was the one who had pared it down to just a couple of people to make it more manageable. 

“thanks! help yourselves!” you reply, watching on with a small smile as the boys dug into the food you had prepared. you lean against togame, who rests his chin on your shoulder. 

he leans forward for a sandwich, handing you one as well. it’s your favorite variety of the ones you made and you’re thrilled that your boyfriend remembered that. as you take a bite, you figure this the perfect time to execute your plan. you reach into your own bag, pulling out a nearly-finished jar of chili oil. you nudge togame. “you think you can help me open this? i tried all morning.”

“sure,” he says, gently lifting it from your grasp. his arms are still around you as he makes his first attempt and you feel the quick breath he exhales as he tries again. he eventually untangles himself from you, eyebrows furrowing. “shit,” he says, “i don’t know if i can.”

tomiyama makes grabbing hands at it. “let me try!” togame hands it over to his friend and tomiyama tries a couple of times, pouting when he can’t open it either. he hands it over to sako, who glowers when he fails too. the jar gets passed between the shishitoren members present and each one is unsuccessful. the last guy hands it back to you and togame sighs, “sorry we couldn’t help, baby.”

as everyone else apologizes to, you feel a little bashful as you admit to gluing it. you’re relieved when they take it in good stride, letting out relieved cries and playfully protest. you pull out another jar of the same chili oil, this one totally super-glue-free and give it to those who want it as a peace offering.  as the group settles into a nice rhythm, you lean back against togame and his head finds its place in the crook of your neck again.

[juniperdugong]

Photobooth - Wonwoo

WC: 2.8k || Genre: Fluff, Angst (?) || Ooo they crushing on each other

A/N: We'll call this a late bday present for him lol lotsa fluff, is this also angst? Idk. This is the song I had on repeat writing this, Imagine it during the climax

You and Wonwoo had hung around the same people for a while, your friend groups slowly merging before you could comprehend it. So it wasn't exactly a surprise that you'd see him here tonight but you're trying your best not to look in his direction all the same.

You guys haven't talked much... or really at all without someone else in the group being there. It's a given seeing as you're both on the introverted side anyway.

Over time you've grown to welcome seeing his face at a party or in a crowd and you've developed a little bit of a crush, one that you definitely did not mean to create. But really who could blame you?

It was Wonwoo. And the way his messy hair hung so perfectly over his face. How his glasses would fog up on occasion. And god... the way he'd lift his shirt up just a tad to wipe them. You might be insane for the thought but there's no way someone that attractive isn't getting gawked at 24/7, like clockwork.

And that's exactly what you're trying to hide as he sits across the table from you. You're drinking more than you had before he got here and you can feel the heat in your face as the buzz sets in. You've been avoiding his eyes as best you can, but you can't help noticing that he's been looking at you very intently since he sat down.

Wonwoo's been nursing a beer for the past 30 minutes, his face still slightly red from the pregame he and the boys did at the previous bar. Now he's sat in front of you. Purposefully he had pushed Dokeyom out of the way to get this seat but now that he was here he had zero idea of how to approach you. He's been trying to catch your eye the entire time but you haven't looked his way once. He goes to speak but is interrupted.

"Guys! I have a great idea!" Your friend stands up to address the table, the fact that most of you are completely out of it only makes it so that several people are cheering her on the moment she rises. "Let's go to a photo booth shop!"

In minutes someone's already handled the bill; No one cares to ask questions this far into the night. And your posse is perusing the streets looking like a bunch of fucked up college students; Not exactly wrong but not right either.

You're hanging back in the pack like you usually do. The cold air hitting your warm face feels so good that you have to close your eyes to take in the feeling. "Hey." You're startled from your daze as you see Wonwoo pull back and wait for you to catch up to him, "The night air?"

"Yeah, feels nice." The silence grows between you two as you continue walking side by side. Neither of you can tell if the heat you're feeling is from the drinks or from the intense blush you feel coming on but both of you are glad that tonight is breezy, the air serving to calm down some nerves. The last time you were alone was that night.

Not too dissimilar from tonight actually. A bunch of your friends were hanging out at a camping-themed cafe where you could sit around a fireplace. Due to how many of you there were several campfires were taken up.

You and Wonwoo sat a few chairs away from each other, by coincidence you had ended up in this smaller group as a close friend also sat here. It didn't take long for either of you to notice the other. Small glances back and forth and flickering smiles when you caught each other's eye.

Somewhere along the way, almost everyone got up to go and order more food, and as people trickled over to the counter you and Wonwoo were eventually left alone.

The tension was thick with unspoken attraction and you were both waiting for the other to make any moves. Finally, with a lump caught in his throat, Wonwoo got up and sat in the chair next to you. "Y/n, right?" You gave a little nod and chuckled, "Yeah and you're Wonwoo?". "Yep, exactly right."

You guys kept talking and talking the entire night, the conversation never dipping into silence or awkwardness, it felt like you could be here forever and never get bored. It all seemed to come naturally with Wonwoo.

Even once your friends came back the chatting didn't stop. Some of them eye the way you guys had gotten close within a matter of minutes, smirks as they could see the connection forming before their eyes. The way that with each new topic, you guys somehow managed to get physically closer. Scooting your chair to hear him better. Wonwoo leaning in subconsciously as you ramble. Both of you are practically knee to knee by the end of it.

More and more of your group dispersed as it got later in the night but you both were too enthralled in conversation to notice anyone had left until it had gotten dark.

"It was nice talking, y/n." The way the moonlight and campfire gleaned on him made your heart race.

"Yeah, I had a lot of fun Wonwoo." His cheeks hurt from smiling so much and his chest burned whenever anything so much as a smirk was on your lips.

"I'll see you around?" You hoped he was talking sooner rather than later.

"Of course!" He held onto those words like a promise.

It wasn't until you both had gotten into your cars that you realized that you didn't get each other's numbers. Shit!

It's been months since then. You've seen each other at other hangouts but neither of you had the guts to talk to the other again. Something ate at the confidence you had that night and you haven't been able to look him in the eye since. You'd never thought that you'd have a crush this intense at your age but something about Wonwoo made you feel like a highschooler again.

And he's been the same way, although a bit more direct than you. Every time he's seen you since then he'd try to get closer to you, at least be near you to quench his thirsty lovesick heart with your voice... Even if it's not directed towards him. Just staring at you made him flutter, honestly. He's been festering on these feelings for a while, even since before that night if he was being honest, but every time after that his tongue hasn't been able to form coherent sentences around you. It's like a curse.

A curse that it seems some alcohol can quell, at least for a little bit.

"We haven't talked much, have we?" He starts, the shop is just around the corner yet right now he prayed that it was miles away so he could take his time.

"Nah, we haven't. Not since..."

"Not since the campfire?"

"Yeah."

"Hey! You two! Get inside!" A quaint smile forms on your lips as someone yells for you to hurry up. Wonwoo gives a small chuckle but bites his lip to suppress the touch of anger rising now that your conversation has been cut short.

As you get in you can already see that everyone takes charge in claiming different accessories and filing into photo booths in small groups. You didn't really feel up to taking photos, far too heated from Wonwoo's company from before. Looking around, you spot some fun sunglasses shaped like daisies. They were good enough for photos and who knows? Maybe sober you will like the outcome.

After grabbing the sunglasses you dip into an empty booth and begin going through all the different styles. You're slightly hiccuping and now you can definitely feel the alcohol kicking in.

"You mind?" You'd just settled on the only appealing style out of your choices, one obviously meant for couples, one surrounded by red and pink hearts. Of course, Wonwoo had to interrupt. You have half the mind to tell him you do mind jokingly but you're too swayed by him to joke right now, "Not at all."

Now you're sat squished up in the booth with him. The flush on your face could be explained by the drinks but it's more than likely getting redder due to Wonwoo's presence.

"Sorry, all the others were taken and I didn't want to be left out." An excuse, he'd seen you come in here and he was eager to talk to you again. Alcohol really did wonders for confidence.

"It's fine, really." You smiled a bit in his direction and suddenly his heart is thumping like a rabbit's foot. "I don't even like taking photos..."

"Why not?"

"I never like how they come out."

Impossible, you're like the most beautiful person in the world, y/n. He can't even begin to comprehend your way of thinking. You were the most stunning thing in his field of view whenever you were around, how could pictures with you in them ever turn out bad?

"What?" Fuck Did he say that out loud?

"What?"

"Did you just *hiccup* call me beautiful? Wonwoo."

"I don't know." His eyes are wide and suddenly he feels as sober as a dog. He feigns innocence with a confused stare in your direction and thankfully your drunkenness takes him for his word.

"Wonwoo..." A numbness came over you that allowed for words to spill.

"Yeah, y/n?"

"I think I really like you." Great. Now he's sure he's completely sober. He turns to you, the sunglasses hiding your drowsy eyes as you lean against the side of the booth. And he's not even sure if you'll remember saying this. Great!

"You mean that?" Please say yes.

"Mean what?" You're completely out of it and he can see it, as quickly as he resigns to you forgetting what you said you speak again, "That I like you? I do mean that."

His jaw drops and he isn't sure what to do. Does he run away and grab one of the accessories that will cover the intense heat on his face? No, he doesn't want to leave you. Does he tell you he likes you back? No, that's in vain you're already not all here. Well, you are in a photo booth... He presses the START button.

"Will you be mad if I kiss you right now, y/n?"

You look at him with glazed-over doe eyes, letting the sunglasses slip off your face and fall to the floor. You didn't know if this was some sort of sick joke, a hallucination fueled by the copious amounts of alcohol in your system, or worse a drunken mistake on his part. But it was too sudden a question for you to process the options in this state.

3...2...1...Say Cheese!

"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked-" He opens the curtain to the photo booth and is ready to get up. This was a bad idea. Nothing you said should mean anything to him but it doesn't keep from the pang of disappointment he feels. Suddenly your hand is gripping his wrist telling him to stay seated, and he does.

3...2...1...Give the Camera a wink!

Both of your hearts are racing. The tension of the moment suffocates you guys but you're too caught up to notice the heaving of your breaths. You grab his face with both your hands, trying your hardest to focus on just him. Your stupor makes it extremely hard but you persist with the small amount of soberness in your body.

It takes far too long for either of you to realize as your lips press together. The shock of plush lips lights you ablaze, it's as if someone held a flame to all the booze coursing through you. You're too far gone to know that you're the one that had leaned into him and not the other way around.

3...2...1...Blast off!

If Wonwoo's eyes could pop out of his skull they would. He's nearly out of the frame of the camera as you push up against him. Your brows furrow as you close your eyes getting more into the kiss and now he's feeling awkward with his eyes wide open. He thinks your focus might just be the cutest thing he's ever seen. God, you are all he wanted, huh? A smile creeps up on his lips before he lifts his glasses and deepens the kiss, placing a hand on the small of your back and using the other to gently wrap around the back of your neck.

3...2...1...Silly Faces!

Maybe it's all the drinks but both of you swear that the other's taste is addictive. Your hands travel from his face and down his neck, pulling him in impossibly closer. You're both hungry for each other, if any of the others saw it'd probably look like borderline cannabilism with how animalistic you were going at it. Mouths trying to trace the memory of each other onto the walls of your cheeks.

It was sensual yet innocent, any trace of lust replaced with an intense passion and love. You can vividly imagine the many kisses that you could share with Wonwoo in your lifetime. Pecks on the cheek, goodbye kisses as you leave the house, intense makeout sessions, all of it. All the little quiet moments of intimacy to the burning giant gestures of love, everything with Wonwoo. It's the only sober thought you think you've had all night.

3...2...1...Big Smile!

You release him from your grip, letting your hands rest on his shoulders. Wonwoo's arms hold you in place but loosen ever so slightly. Foreheads resting on each other you just take a minute to take it in. You let your eyes open and meet his, you feel his glasses fall on between you two.

"Sorry." You say as you back away, allowing his glasses to drop back down fully.

The silence is deafening. Outside you can hear as the rest of the group giggles and chatters on, oblivious to what's just happened. You wipe your mouth as you feel a slickness on your lips, your combined spit coating you both.

You're a lot more aware now. The kiss sobering you enough to maybe be able to remember this in the morning but you weren't confident in that thought.

While you're getting that realization Wonwoo's taken the liberty of doing the finishing steps on the photos. Printing 2 copies for each of you and inserting his own email when it asks him if he wants a video of the photo-taking process. Thankfully you weren't looking when he did that, hopefully, he can show you the video at a better time and you can reminisce on your first kiss.

You startle him as you stand up. A solemn look on your face at the thought of all of this being gone by tomorrow. You really wish you didn't drink tonight. That Wonwoo hadn't sat in front of you. That he hadn't stared at you with those eyes, the ones that made you so nervous that you had to chug drink after drink to just get a modicum of confidence. You wish that what happened in the booth had happened not because you were drunk but because you were ready.

He sees the look and wants to say something... anything if it'll make you feel better. He knows all too well that that look meant that you were regretting things.

You reach out to him, cupping his face in one of your hands and swiping at his cheek with your thumb before he can say anything. Biting your lip you look at him, the feelings are all too overwhelming right now.

"Hey Wonwoo, if you remember this in the morning... remind me of it so we can do it when we're sober sometime, yeah?"

With a slight nod, he leaned into your hand and gave a lingering kiss to your palm before watching you open the curtain and walk away. His eyes stayed glued on you through the window of the shop until the moment your taxi came. A hollow feeling overcoming him as the drunkenness sets in again, although he couldn't quite decipher if this down came from the drinks or from the pure ecstasy you gave and so quickly took away, maybe both.

He walked out of the shop, a group of high-schoolers giggling in merriment as they picked out their accessories and got into their booths. The thought of wherever his friends were was purely background noise at this point.

Getting out and into the cold air he stood with his back against the glass, clutching the photo strips in one hand and his phone in the other, he set an alarm.

"Remind y/n".

A/N: I really really fucking like this one guys, smiling throughout the whole writing process. Also lovelies, for those of you reading Perfection pls know that the upcoming chapter has been delayed till next Saturday! Please reblog and comment your thoughts and as always my asks are open to any and all thoughts!

SVT Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda

[won4kiss]

⋆ ｡⋆୨୧˚— ALL TOO WELL.

𝜗𝜚 ༘⋆ ⋆˙pairing. first love! park sunghoon x fem! reader synopsis. even years later, you remember everything about your first love, park sunghoon all too well. genre. angst ,, wc. 1500. 𝐥u𝐧a notes ⋆.˚ inspired by this song!! 🫧 — 𝓵𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝔂

if you enjoyed reading, please like & reblog !!

i still remember the first fall of snow, and how it glistened as it fell. i remember it all too well.🧣

you watched as the shimmering snow fell softly against the empty streets, melting as it hit the hard ground.

the first snow fall of the year, the breezy autumn weather had transitioned into the freezing snowy winter weather.

you were always fond of the first snowfalls of the year as a little girl, well- your whole life.. until you met park sunghoon.

sunghoon reminded you of the snow a lot, he was cold, but when he was close- he melted. but snow doesn’t last forever does it?

at first, when he fell into your world- it had been at a skating rink. the weather had been in the negatives that day, the first snowfall of the year piling around you, but your friends had decided it would be a great idea to go to the outdoor skating rink- you quickly discovered it was not when your hands turned a bright red, your nose matching.

you couldn’t help the shiver as you skated on the ice, making you lose your balance and as you braced the fall, squeezing your eyes shut- instead of the hard surface, you were met with him instead.

you still remember his touch to this day, all the snow disappearing in a moment, it felt like summer. his arms wrapped around you felt like the sun kissing your skin.

“hey rudolph, watch where you’re going.” this man says to you with an annoyed tone.

you frown at the man’s words as you pull his arm before he can skate off.

“at least let me thank you, mr grinch… what’s your name?” he scoffs at your words before looking at your red hands you had desperately been trying to warm by rubbing them together for friction, at this point they’re probably all scratched up he thinks, and your bright red nose he found himself grinning at.

he puffs out a breathe as he pulls scarf and mittens off- at first your caught off guard by the way this man that looks like he had been made by the greek gods themselves- wraps his red scarf around your neck, making sure your nose is covered- he holds your hands in his palm and secured his light blue mittens around your hands.

“it’s sunghoon” he says with a shy grin letting go of your intertwined hands and skating off, leaving you in a bewildered state.

the rest was history- you had found sunghoon to give his mittens back the next day, and offered him a cup of hot chocolate from the local cafe as compensation for his actions, which he had agreed to since the hot chocolate was the best in town- but also the most expensive.

as you both talk, sparks flew around you.

you and sunghoon had gotten along so well, even being polar opposites.

you preferred summer, he preferred winter, you liked the bright daytime, he liked the dark nightfall, you were a dose of sunshine, he was a dose of the darkness in the skies.

but it didn’t matter, because you were deeply in love with park sunghoon- and he was in love with you.

your relationship felt like a heavy blanket wrapped around you, sunghoon had been your everything- he had opened himself up to you, parts that he hadn’t shown anyone, his vulnerable state, his love to you. never once did you two argue in the beginning of your relationship. everything was beyond perfect, until it wasn’t.

“hoon, i get you haven’t seen your friends in a while but you completely ignored me- it was humiliating and now you have the audacity to say im overreacting!” you shouted at him as he shook his head into his hands.

“what the fuck y/n, are you fucking crazy! what the fuck is wrong with you?” he says angrily as you study the expression he held on his face towards you.

anger, annoyance, irritation, you felt a painful pang in your heart- 7 months into your relationship and you felt stuck.

you loved him more than anything in the world, but did he love you as much as you loved him-

you looked down and continued rinsing the dishes as you felt tears brimming in the corners of your eyes.

sunghoon sighed at your saddened state, coming behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

“i’m sorry, i won’t drop your hand again okay? forgive me my love” he says as he kisses your cheek making you grin softly and turn around- this- this man was your sunghoon.

it was constant, the arguments, the tears and the moments you spent alone at home when he left after a fight. you felt completely and utterly alone.

but you always brushed it off, no matter how much hurt you felt- you felt more love than anything, your love for sunghoon.

your twenty first birthday, you had been so completely excited, butterflies went off in your stomach as soon as you woke up- sunghoon had promised to make this birthday the best one you would ever have.

except- it was absolutely not, you had called sunghoon twenty four times now and left a dozen messages. you felt complete and utter embarrassment as you sat at the head of the dinner table, your friends looking at you with a look of pity and your mom and dad shaking their heads-

sunghoon and your dad had a great relationship, and you never shared your struggles with your family- not wanting to tarnish sunghoon’s reputation. but you don’t think you could say anything to keep sunghoon’s amazing boyfriend image on this time.

as you watched everyone eating your cake, as you sat in silence- feeling numb, but still believing your sunghoon would show up, your sunghoon that knew every single detail about you- the sunghoon that had written you love letters every day for 5 months- your father had come to you and whispered in your ear, “it’s supposed to be fun turning twenty one.”

after every argument you’ve had with sunghoon, you always forgave him. because at the end of the day, he was still the same boy you fell in love with. since the day you met sunghoon, you depended on him. he felt like the one constant in your life when everything else was changing, you distanced from your friends, you only ever depended on him.

finally, you had given up on sunghoon. the first time your friends told you, you had completely cut them off for 3 weeks. you couldn’t ignore it anymore when your parents had begged you to see clearly.

“am i asking for too much hoon! all i wanted was for my boyfriend to be there on my twenty first birthday- do you understand how humiliating it was?” you shouted sobbing as sunghoon looked at you in disbelief

“i’m sorry? i was working, i was providing for us! stop being so ungrateful! this isn’t your last birthday alive.” he said before storming out of your apartment, the impact of the slamming door making you flinch as you choked out a sob.

yet again, sunghoon had left after another argument, the biggest one yet- him missing your twenty first birthday, saying he was too caught up in work, you knew what you had to do.

you packed your things a complete mess, sobbing as you felt your relationship slip out of your grasp after holding on for so long.

you looked at the red scarf sunghoon wrapped around you that blessed, happy day you met him and held it closely to your chest.

“goodbye sunghoon” you whispered letting your tears fall on it before settling it down on your shared bed as you took in the space one more time.

as you stepped out of your apartment, your shoulders felt light, it felt right. but your heart felt heavier, it felt completely hopeless. the snow around you- which was once filled with happy joyful memories, was now filled with park sunghoon.

epilogue.

it had been years later, and you were happier than ever. you had finally accomplished your dream and released your book on self love, and independence. it was dark outside, the first snowfall of the year yet again, your mind flickered to sunghoon. and you smiled, both of you were young, yes he hurt you, but he also taught you how it feels to be hopelessly in love, and while it lasted it was magical and pure.

as you finished your book conference, you packed up your things in your bag as people complimented your book before leaving and you felt a light tap on your back.

turning around, your eyes widened slightly.

that same red scarf you cherished many years ago, wrapped around his pale sparkling skin.

your heartbeat racing faster as words leave his mouth.

“it’s been a while, y/n”

@won4kiss

[neoneun-au]

CAN’T HELP MYSELF; CHAPTER I: BADBADNOTGOOD

―PAIRING: wonwoo x fem!reader, mingyu x fem!reader ―GENRE: love triangle au, fluff, mild angst, romantic comedy, suggestive, smut (later chapters) ―CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 5.8K ―CHAPTER WARNINGS: break ups, angst, mild language ―STATUS: ongoing

―SERIES M.LIST HERE

i: badbadnotgood

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“It’s literally fine,” you state, voice edging on manic as you take another sip from the iced coffee clutched in your (only slightly trembling) hands, “I’m literally so fine.”

It’s a Thursday afternoon in September and you find yourself once again sitting at the counter of your friend’s day job, taking advantage of her waning generosity (i.e. free coffee) while avoiding doing any of the multitude of things you should be doing at this moment in time. The aforementioned friend, Seulgi, stands in front of you–lower half obscured by the fake marble counter–clad in a coffee-stained apron and fixing you with an expression of open concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? Because you look…I don’t mean this to sound insensitive, but you look a little insane. Are you developing a twitch?” 

“I think I might take up running,” you drown the manic edge in your voice with another sip of iced coffee–groaning in disappointment when all that greets your lips is faintly coffee flavoured melt water from your ice cubes. You shake the container to check the contents and with a wave of bitterness confirm that it is, indeed, very empty. 

“You should consider taking up drinking water as a hobby first,” she says, snatching the cup away from you and tossing it into the garbage can under the counter behind her, “and then maybe we can go from there.” 

You heave a sigh and turn to stare out the window, deepening the cliché of the afternoon. A forlorn widow at a bar draped in pearls and fur.

Thursdays were slow, so you always took your time chatting with Seulgi and sipping whatever drink she was gracious enough to make for you. Today had been a “three iced coffees in a row” kind of day and due to extenuating circumstances (read: an incredibly recent breakup) she was being patient. For now. If the steel in her gaze was anything to judge by, her patience was beginning to run thin. 

“I just think that this is the perfect opportunity, Seulgi.” She keeps her eyes trained on your face–steady and unblinking–as you continue to ramble off your tired-but-wired thoughts. “I have so much free time now to do whatever I want, be whoever I want. I haven’t been single in over three years. That’s so long.”

“It is long,” she nods cautiously. A glass of water is set down on the counter in front of you, condensation dripping down the sides, and without thought, entirely on autopilot, you raise it to your lips and take a sip. A small wave of relief ripples over Seulgi’s face as you do.  

“I’ve been living with Wonwoo for two of those years, as well,” you choke the name out despite how it still stalls in your throat, threatening either tears or a coughing fit or both. You’re too bolstered by your false sense of optimism in the present moment to let it stop your monologue in its tracks. “Not going out, only cooking at home, spending more time playing video games and watching Netflix on the couch than I ever have in my life. I don’t have to think about what he wants to watch anymore, I can watch what I want. I can go where I want. I could watch Glee!” 

“Do you want to watch Glee?” She narrows her brows in suspicion but you wave the glance away with a breezy hand gesture. 

“It doesn’t matter what I want to watch,” you shake your head in frustration, “the point is that I can.”

“Right,” she nods, “you’re single now, which was sort of the goal of breaking up with him in the first place. So…live your life.” 

“Yes,” you nod, mentally shoving the words ‘breaking up’ into a small closet in your mind. Not to be opened until you were sufficiently under the influence of a massive amount of alcohol. “Yes, I can live my life.” 

The bell over the front door of the cafe rings out clear through the air, drawing your attention towards a young couple striding in from the windy day outside. Seulgi pushes herself off the counter in front of you and heads to greet them and collect their order–leaving you to continue to stew in your own thoughts. 

Breaking up with Wonwoo had never really been a part of the plan. Two years ago when you moved in with him, you were certain that it was going to be the last relationship you ever had. The hopeless romantic in you had hitched your wagon to him and he made it so easy to build a home around. Your relationship existed as simple domesticity; in simple romance and simple companionship. It was comforting and easy. And that was what scared you the most, in the end.   

Maybe it was too easy. Maybe you were settling. Maybe there was something more out there that you weren’t seeing because you were too content eating the same meals and telling the same stories. Part of you started to ache for a break in routine–some excitement and adventure that he wasn’t able or willing to offer–and after months of turning it over in your mind you finally figured what you had to do to make that happen.

“Have you found a place to stay yet?” Seulgi’s voice calls to you–yanking you unceremoniously out of your brain-stew before it hit the boiling point. The young, beige clad couple had settled themselves into a corner booth and Seulgi had come to take up her spot leaning on the counter across from you once more. 

“No,” you sigh, shoulders falling. The one sticking point in your resolve to leave your boyfriend (ex-boyfriend now, you suppose) had been the apartment. Aside from it being the home you had made together, you didn’t really have any idea where else you could stay. For the past week you had been sleeping on the couch and disappearing as fast as possible before Wonwoo could wake up. Avoidance became key to your survival. 

A few friends had suggested you keep the apartment and he could move back in with his old college friend Jihoon, but you already felt too bad breaking up with him in the first place to then subsequently kick him out of an apartment that he also had every right to live in. So, maybe somewhat foolishly, you volunteered to leave. 

“What about Jeonghan, didn’t you say he had a room free at his place?” Seulgi nudges the now lukewarm glass of water towards you as she speaks and you take another sip, wincing at the mention of Jeonghan’s name. 

“He did,” you reply, setting the glass back down on the counter with a satisfying thud. From the moment he heard about the break-up he had offered as much accommodation to you as possible. You had been roommates for six months in college and it went as smoothly as it possibly could have at that age, so you knew you could live with him in a pinch. Although you suspected the main driving force behind his offer was to keep his own rent at his massive condo as cheap as possible.  

“And his place is a bad idea because…?” 

“He has like three other roommates already,” you groan, dropping your head into your hands. That was the only catch to rooming with him–strangers. All sense of optimism and bravado vacated your body at the thought of having to get to know new people. You no longer wanted to change your life for the better, you wanted to dig yourself into a soft pit in the earth and sleep for 1000 years. 

“So?” Seulgi asks and you groan deeper at her blatantly missing the source of your frustration, “you’ll have your own room. Besides, haven’t you been friends with him for like…ever?” 

“But they’re all dudes, Seulgi,” you whine, splaying your arms out across the counter. 

“You’ve lived with a dude for the past two years, what’s the difference?” 

“I’ve sworn them off,” you state as if it’s the most natural thing in the world and she just stares blankly back at you. 

“Dudes?” 

“Yes.” 

“You’ve sworn off…all dudes?” 

You nod, grateful she finally gets it, “yes.” Her steady gaze bores into you as you straighten your posture and readjust your hair before finally coming out with the question you had been meaning to ask since you stumbled into the cafe three hours ago, “can I move in with you?”

She barks a short laugh, shaking her head–her bright orange ponytail waving behind her as she does. You sit, patiently waiting for her response and ignoring the pit of vipers in your stomach biting at your nerves. After a moment she sobers up and brings her expression back to one of practised neutrality, “oh, you’re being serious.”  

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You know I live with my parents, right?” 

“Yeah, but they know me. I’ve met them.” 

“You’ve met them once,” she clarifies, stressing the last word. “I don’t think they really want to have another body in our house. It’s not exactly palatial.” 

“That’s fine, I don’t need much room,” you shrug and she heaves a sigh. 

“_____, you need to find a place that is a more permanent solution than crashing on my parent’s couch. Just look around online for some roommate ads, you can find plenty that are female only.” 

“Yeah,” you sigh, gathering your bags to leave. “You’re right, I should just do that.” 

“You’re leaving before close today?” She asks, slightly taken aback at the sudden shift in routine. 

“Yeah, I mean I don’t want to keep loitering and distracting you from your customers,” you nod, slinging your purse over your shoulders. Seulgi takes a cursory glance around the cafe–eyebrow cocked. The singular couple that had been occupying a table in the small space had already left, leaving behind a wayward glove as the only sign they had been there in the first place.

In an effort to avoid as much contact with Wonwoo as possible, you had been doing all of your work (read: moping and avoiding your actual job) from the safety of the cafe walls on the days Seulgi worked, and the library on days she didn’t. It was a nice cafe but with the university students not yet back for the start of fall semester, it wasn’t an especially busy spot this time of year. 

“Besides,” you start, pushing yourself off the stool and stretching out the kink that had developed in your spine from leaning dramatically over the counter for the past 3 hours, “Wonwoo is usually working late Thursday nights so I can have some time alone to browse through rental listings.” 

“Oh okay. Well good luck,” Seulgi waves you off and you think she might look slightly relieved as you push open the door of the cafe and step out into the fresh air. 

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Wonwoo, as it turns out, was not working late this Thursday night.

Instead, as you walk into the apartment at a quarter past 5 in the afternoon, you find him leaning against the kitchen counter waiting for a pot of water to come to a boil. 

His back is turned to you, head bowed forward as he scrolls through his phone. You freeze in place, bag swinging at your side, for a moment–staring at the back of his head as he remains blissfully unaware of your presence. 

If you were still dating, you would have snuck up behind him and wrapped your arms around his slender waist, tucking your face into the space between his shoulder blades. He always smelled like the faint remnants of his cologne–softened with wear throughout the day–and a strange combination of mint and coffee that you could only ever describe as ‘Wonwoo’. 

If you were still dating, he would have laughed softly–silently–at the sudden intrusion while twisting around the pressing his lips to your forehead, mumbling a quiet “hello,” against your skin. 

If you were still dating, you would have taken half of the ramyun he was cooking and sat together eating on the couch while chatting about your days, or watching whatever TV show had been in your rotation at the time. A comfortable stillness would have settled over you as you sunk back into each other as you so often did. With ease and flow. 

If you were still dating you wouldn’t be standing like a deer in headlights, staring at the back of his head. Waiting for the pin to drop. You wouldn’t be frantically trying to think of an exit plan before he took notice of your presence in the room. Your muscles tense to bolt at the slightest movement from him.

If you were still dating you might have known what to do when he finally did notice you there. When he turned to face you and you could see, even in the dim lighting of your small apartment, the redness in his eyes. But you weren’t still dating, so instead of instinctively knowing what to do you just waved at him with your pathetic, useless hands. 

“Umm hi,” you stutter the words out as you let your bag slip off your shoulder to the floor, kicking it to the side of the entryway. “I didn’t think you’d be home until later.” 

“Took the day off,” he replies, turning back around to add two packs of noodles into the now boiling water. You nod and slip off your jacket, feeling distinctly like an intruder inside of your own home. 

The obvious bags under Wonwoo’s eyes didn’t help with that feeling.

In fact, the more you watch him out of the corner of your eye, the more you start to feel like at your core you were actually a very evil person. Here he was, standing unkempt in the t-shirt you had bought for him last Christmas while you stood on the other side of the room from him alive and breathing and like you hadn’t broken his heart only days prior.

The tense silence from moments before is replaced by static in your mind as you let the guilt consume you–raging like a fire through your thoughts and burning everything it touches. ‘Evil, awful, terrible, horrible, bad, bad, bad person,’ it chants–over and over twisting and turning inside of you. A mantra for all the things you’ve done wrong. It buzzes inside of your head so loudly that you hardly notice Wonwoo speaking to you until he clears his throat in question and calls to you by name. 

“Sorry,” you start, putting a lid on the buzzing in your mind, “I didn’t hear you. What?” 

“Are you hungry?” he repeats himself, already setting out two bowls of ramyun on the small kitchen table before you can muster up a response. You take a seat without a word, wincing at the sound of the chair scraping against the vinyl flooring, disturbing the silence like nails on a chalkboard. 

“Thanks,” your voice is sheepish. He nods in acknowledgement and begins to slurp back his noodles, eyes trained on his phone screen as he avoids meeting your gaze. 

For a few minutes, the only sound in the room is the occasional clinking of chopsticks against the sides of your bowls. You sit, watching Wonwoo and waiting. Waiting for something to happen to break the stalemate. To cut the tension and alter the current status quo. 

You want him to scream. To yell at you, to throw something. Anything more than just…sit. In silence. Looking at his phone. ‘If you get mad at me I will get on my hands and knees and beg you for forgiveness,’ you think to yourself, telepathically sending him the hint you so desperately want him to pick up on. ‘Give me some emotion, for the love of god.’ 

The sticking point in your relationship had always been his introspection. Sometimes it was a boon. He went inwards to see things you often couldn't see on the outside. It was nice, having someone so thoughtful. Someone who sat back and observed; taking note of everything, never reacting blindly. 

But as the days ticked ever onward, and you remained in that same place of ease and comfort, you began to wish he would. React. Make any move purely on emotion. Share his ugly, dirty, messy thoughts–even if they were never fully formed, even if they were retracted a second later. 

Instead he remained–steady, stoic–and the desire inside of you for passion and change burned brighter and brighter until you couldn't stand it anymore. Until it nearly blinded you with its intensity. 

Even during the break-up, when you sat across from him at this same kitchen table, with a combination of tears and mascara running down your face, he sat still and calm. Listening. Observing. You sat there with your heart bared blood red on your sleeves and your feelings spilling out before him from the open wound of your mind–more vulnerable than you had ever felt in all your years of dating. And you watched, splayed open, as he retreated further and further from you, locked his emotions and heart back up into himself. He remained even as you pleaded for him to give you something–anything–other than that. 

So you left. 

And then came back an hour later because you didn’t know where the hell you were going in the first place and besides you had left your wallet and phone behind and what were you going to be able to do without those aside from sit on a park bench. You snuck back in through the front door and expected to see him in shambles on your bed or wailing dramatically along to a comfort film. Instead you found him three games deep into an extended Overwatch session. 

Now, days later, you find yourself once again hoping against hope for him to give you something. Something other than the (mostly) cold-shoulder you had received for the past few days when you did accidentally bump into him. You needed it. It might feel less painful if it felt like he cared more. More than hiding his tears behind whatever wall he had built inside of himself.

The silence bites at you again as Wonwoo gathers the bowls to clean up–checking yours first to see that you’ve finished, the way he always does–and you trail behind him into the small galley kitchen. 

“So, umm,” you start, unsure of what you’re about to say but unable to stop yourself from saying whatever it was anyway. If he wasn’t going to talk, you would. “How’s work?” 

“Same as usual,” he shrugs, setting the bowls into the sink. You can see his shoulders tensing under his shirt as you talk, and that monster of guilt peeks its head up inside of you for a split second before you shove it aside and continue. 

“I think I might have found a place to live,” you say suddenly, surprising even yourself.

“Oh?” His hands still in the sink, and he turns towards you–fully facing you for the first time since that night. The eye contact makes your breath catch in your throat–you can see more clearly now the redness in the whites of his eyes, the dark rings encircling them. Guilt rears his head once more. Regret. And a small–incredibly small, but still present–flush of victory. A reaction, finally. 

“Yeah,” you nod, spurred on by nerves and a desire to keep the tense silence at bay for as long as possible, “umm, Jeonghan offered me a room at his place.” 

“Jeonghan?” 

“Yeah, you remember him. Blonde guy–well I guess he wasn’t blonde when you met him, I think his hair was like…long and purple, or maybe blue–?” you catch yourself rambling, Wonwoo stands–hands poised still over a bowl–clutching a dripping dish rag. 

“I remember him, yeah,” he turns back to the dishes, scrubbing at the bowls but you can tell that you still have his attention. 

“Anyway, he offered to let me move in there. I just need to let him know when and then the room is mine,” you finish the thought and nod as if signing the lease agreement with your words despite this being the first time you’ve even seriously considered the offer.

“Doesn’t he have a bunch of roommates already?” Wonwoo shakes the water off the bowl–from a set of dishes you had bought together shortly after moving in–and sets it gently in the drying rack off to the side of the sink before moving on to the next one. 

“Yeah, like three,” you state, watching his forearms flex and unflex as he scrubs at an old stain in the grey ceramic, “but it's a five bedroom condo and one of his old roommates–Dino, I think was his name? I only met him once at that one murder mystery party they were throwing,” you catch yourself rambling again and take a quick breath to rearrange your thoughts, “anyway he just moved out so now they have an empty room.” 

Wonwoo nods, the way he always does when he is considering what to say, and you wait. Silence creeps back in for a moment–the only sound is the water whirling through the drain–before he turns back to you with one eyebrow slightly raised, “do you even want to live with that many people? You like having your space.” 

“I mean,” you hum, “I don’t really have many other options.” 

“You could stay here,” he says after a breath–voice barely above a whisper–and you feel your heart stutter in your chest. Is this it? Is this the moment he breaks through his walls and fights for what he wants? Fights for you? Wonwoo clears his throat, and you wait, breath held, for him to continue, “at least until you can find something better.”

The hope you had built–a delicate house of cards stacked on his words–crumbles and you can feel yourself physically deflate. “No,” you shake your head, “thanks but…I think this will be good. I feel good about it.” You’re not sure who you’re trying to convince more with this statement.

“Well,” he nods once, slowly, one eyebrow raised in suspicion, “as long as you’re sure.” 

“I am,” you try and offer the most assuring smile you can muster despite how entirely unsure you feel about the snap decision, only letting it fall from your face once he tucks the last bowl away and slips into the dark of the bedroom. 

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“Okay,” Jeonghan grins, taking the seat across from you at the kitchen table, “house rules.” 

After your last interaction with Wonwoo you had tried in vain to think of any possible reason you could back out of the spontaneous declaration of your new living arrangements. Even going so far as to dig through the personal ads on numerous websites, seeking any even remotely attractive alternative that you could use to move into immediately and hide your shame before it grew big enough to swallow you whole. 

It took only two hours and 10+ ads seeking “female companionship for free room and board” with blurry attached photos for you to give up and just message Jeonghan. To which he promptly replied with an ‘I knew I’d hear from you ;)’.

The move had been relatively simple after that. Jeonghan had roped one of your new roommates, a guy called Seungcheol, into hauling nearly all of your stuff down five flights of stairs to the moving truck you had rented for the occasion and then back out of the moving truck and into your shared condo. Two days and nearly twenty boxes later, you sit across from Jeonghan in the condo you were now going to have to call your home for the foreseeable future.

“Rule one,” he begins, holding up a finger to emphasize the number as if it wasn’t abundantly clear, “wash your own dishes. If the dishwasher is full and clean, empty it and then add your stuff.” You open your mouth, poised to speak, but he stops you with a dismissive wave of his hand, “I know you will, I’m not worried about you, I just have to be excessively clear on this point after the last incident we had.” Jeonghan ends the sentence with a somber shake of his head and you decide it’s probably best not to ask what said “incident” was.

“Second, the movie The Notebook is banned from this apartment.” 

“What? Why?” 

“The last time we watched it it took three hours to peel Mingyu off the couch,” he shakes his head, “trust me you don’t want to see a six foot tall man in that extreme of a state of distress. It’s…hard to watch.” 

“Okay…” the worry you had felt prior to moving your stuff into the apartment metamorphosizes now into pure confusion. You weren’t sure what exactly to expect living with four adult men, but suffice it to say this was not it.

“Rule three is simple: no overnight guests on Sundays.” 

“Why Sundays?”

“It’s the Lord’s day,” he explains, face showing no hint of a bluff as you flounder for a response, mouth agape. “Kidding, it’s really just because if we didn’t have a set day there would always be someone here with the amount of people that live in this condo. It’s just for my own peace of mind. Not that Dino was much of a concern with that and considering…circumstances you won’t be either.” 

“Got it,” you nod, ignoring the sleight and wondering if you should have brought a notepad. 

“Honestly, that’s pretty much it for the hard rules. Everything else is just…be conscious of the people you live with. But I know I don’t have to worry about that with you, you lived with Wonwoo,” he laughs but stops himself as your expression falters, clearing his throat with a cursory cough. “Anyway, we’re all really excited to have you here.” 

“Yeah,” you sigh, feeling the weight of the world settle back on your shoulders. You can’t remember ever being so tired. “Thanks again, Jeonghan, for letting me stay here.” 

“Of course,” he smiles, patting your folded hands in a gesture of comfort, “this is your home now, and we’re happy to have you.” 

You glance around the room, trying to place that word in with the surroundings you find yourself in. Trying to make it fit. “Home”. 

The kitchen is a good size, with more than enough space for multiple people trying to cook at once. The fridge is relatively new, stainless steel, and equipped with a water dispenser which was something you definitely did not have at your apartment (Wonwoo’s apartment, now, you remind yourself). The dishwasher is also a welcome addition, and you're happy with the prospect of not having to hand wash every dish you use. 

The apartment in general is in good condition. It is clear, despite your previous assumptions, that everyone here puts some level of care into their living space and you appreciate that. It makes you feel a little better about living with a group of men who (beyond Jeonghan) you barely know. 

But still, despite the relative cleanliness and general coziness of the space, it is still hard to envision yourself ever being able to fit the word ‘home’ here in these four walls. Home is still a word that until recently had only made sense in one place–in the arms of one person. And you had destroyed that. Chopped it's head clean off like a Thanksgiving turkey.

Maybe you don’t deserve the word anymore. 

“So,” Jeonghan begins, offering you a wide smile, “we were thinking pizza for dinner. Something fun and easy to welcome you into the place. Mingyu wanted to cook but I talked him out of it, it’s too formal. Mingyu and Vernon will be home later. I think you might have met them once before. Seungcheol you already know, he’ll be back later too, he spends a lot of time at the gym. If you ever need a gym buddy I’m sure he would salivate at the opportunity.”

You nod, unfocused. You’re following his words but your mind is a million years away. Jeonghan, tuned in as ever, notices you drifting and stops in his tracks. “You must be tired,” he concludes, a knowing glint in his eyes, “why don’t you head to your room and I’ll leave you be for a while. Let you get settled in. Feel free to come out and join us whenever.” 

“Thank you,” you breathe, already halfway out of the kitchen.

“I’ll call you out for dinner later, if you like,” he turns to you, a soft encouraging smile painted over his lips and you can’t help but return it in kind before disappearing down the hallway. 

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Five minutes alone and you dissolve completely. 

Every emotion you had been holding back behind the dam of your desire to keep a straight face for the sake of everyone else around you floods forward as you unpack your first box and you fall onto your bed in a what can only be described as a fainting spell interspersed with waves of crying and not uncharacteristic wheezing. All thought to your roommates completely ignored in the midst of the hysterics. 

Somewhere in the middle of the wailing, you think you hear Jeonghan call your name through your door but you’re too all consumed by your sadness to reply to him. Instead you bury your head into your pillows like a flamingo in the sand to muffle the sound of your crying until you fall asleep with your tears drying to a crust on your cheeks.

When you finally come to, the sun is gone and your room is lit only by the light pollution of the city seeping in through your blinds. Your face feels swollen and puffy from all of the tears and your throat is sandpaper–for a brief second you’re afraid you might have lost your voice. A dull headache pounds through your entire skull. You feel as miserable as you’re sure you deserve to feel at this point in time. 

With a sigh you slide off your mattress, letting your feet fall to the vinyl floor with a thud and reach to grab your phone from the nightstand that Dino left behind when he moved out. 

A single text notification sits unopened on your phone. 

[jeonghan] there’s pizza in the kitchen if you get hungry. introductions can wait until tomorrow.

So they did just decide to leave you alone for the time being. Good. Considering your current emotional state, you didn’t think meeting new people was a good idea. The first impression was already shot since you’re sure they heard you wailing through the thin walls of the apartment. 

You consider just going back to sleep without any dinner, but your stomach answers the thought with an insistent rumble that you don’t think you’d be able to stave off for too long before it gets cavernous. You push yourself from the bed and pad out into the hallway–cautiously stretching your head out first to see if anyone else is wandering around. 

Three slices of pizza sit wrapped on a plate in the fridge, illuminated in the dark of the kitchen and you feel your sour mood lift slightly at the sight. You eat them cold, standing in your bare feet and wrinkled clothes alone in the kitchen.

The dishwasher is clean when you go to place the plate inside, but considering time you decide it would be worse to unload the whole thing for one measly plate so you run it under the tap for a few minutes–scrubbing at one stubborn spot of hardened cheese with the sponge. 

“I think it’s clean,” a voice calls out behind you and you startle–nearly dropping the dish in the sink at the sudden intrusion.

“Wha–! Fuck,” you exclaim, inhaling a sharp breath to slow your heart back down to a normal pace. 

“Sorry,” the voice chuckles, low and easy, and you find yourself praying that if you pretend he’s not there he will leave before you have to turn around and face whatever man the voice belongs to. “Did I scare you?” 

No dice. “No, it’s fine I was just thinking about something–” you pivot slowly on one foot and are immediately grateful that you’re lit only by ambient lighting, “–else.” 

Immediately upon turning around you come face-to-face with a dripping wet and uncomfortably bare torso. You snap your gaze up to his face, avoiding further eye contact with his nipples, and the knot of nerves in your stomach tightens. 

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he laughs again–casual despite his state of undress and your clear distress. You feel your head shake no without your permission, betraying you and forgiving the hidden apology in his words. “Not a great first impression, I gather.” His smile is bright, but a little lopsided and bashful. It conjures up images of your childhood dog when he would track mud in through the house from the backyard, eyes big and wet and brown and sure that any sleight would be forgiven immediately based purely on his cuteness.

“It’s fine,” you clear your throat, words finally returning to you, and glance around for a possible exit strategy while still trying to avoid staring directly at his (admittedly very well built) chest. 

“I’m Mingyu,” he smiles, extending a hand to you and you take it briefly, feeling the warmth of it on your own like a shock. Not an entirely unwelcome one. 

“Mingyu?” you ask, partly to clarify and partly to give yourself a chance to regain your thoughts. You notice his hand is still in yours and you drop it, letting your own hand fall back to your side–flexing the fingers as if to shake off the warmth of his.

“Yeah,” he laughs again and you wish he would stop. 

“You live here?” 

“I do,” he nods, still smiling. “That would be why I am standing in the kitchen at 1:00am.” 

“Oh, umm…yeah of course. Yeah,” you slide sideways against the counter behind you until you’re no longer parallel to him, preparing to bolt back to your bedroom at the slightest provocation. 

“Anyway, sorry we had to meet like this, it’s not really ideal.” 

“No,” you shake your head–thoughts numb from hours of crying and the shock of his arrival in the kitchen. 

“We can re-do our introductions in the morning, hey?” There is a hopeful lilt in his voice and you can't help but agree–feeling a little like a nervous rabbit being placated by clumsy hands. He steps aside and you slip past him, grateful at being on the other side of the kitchen and not trapped between his body and the counter. “Sleep tight.” 

You feel his eyes lingering on you as you shuffle back to your bedroom, but you resist the suffocating urge to turn around and check. The door closes behind you with a soft click and you lean all of your weight against the wood, unsure of your legs' abilities to keep you upright for more than a second longer. 

“Fuck,” you whisper into the darkness and are answered by sirens as they race by outside of your window. “This is not good.”

© 2023, neoneun-au. all rights reserved.

[chestnutninny]

Hii! Can I request alex cabot x reader where they fall inlove during law school but then after they graduate they had to leave eachother for different law firms. Then after a few years, they finally meet again because of a case and give eachother a second chance? thank you!!

Second Chances

Alex Cabot x Reader (Fluff)

Warnings: Normal SVU topics (rape, murder, assault)

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Stepping foot through the grand entrance of Harvard, your nerves kicked in, your skin flushed and sweating slightly as you looked around at the bustling corridors. To say your was nervous was an understatement as you came here without knowing anybody.

As you arrived at your first lecture, you sat towards the back of the classroom in order to hide and conceal yourself from many of the other students there. Part way through the lecture, the doors burst open to reveal a blonde girl, flushed and panicking, sweat glistening on her forehead, revealing the sprint that she had endured to try and get to the lecture on time.

"So you must be Miss Cabot. You're late!" The lecturer gave the girl a stern glare, which even you felt despite being nowhere near them both.

"I'm sorry, sir. I couldn't find the classroom." She explained.

"Don't let it happen again. Sit down."

The girl looked at her surroundings, taking note of the only empty seat being next to you. She walked over, lugging her briefcase over shoulder onto the desk infront of her with a huff. She took a seat and got her equipment out infront of herself, hastily taking notes from the board at the front of the class.

The lecturer droned on throughout the class hall, however the groan of many student gained your attention back to the front, where it was evident that the tutor was already giving you all an assignment and pairing up everyone in the class. He told you that you would be in a pair with the girl that arrived late and that he expected the work to be done for next week's lesson.

You sighed, knowing that the girl would most likely be unreliable, however the she turned to face you with a nervous smile on her face and her hand outstretched for you to shake.

"Hi, I'm Alex. I know you think that I'm not reliable and you're worried about doing this assignment on your own, but I can assure you that today was an honest mistake and it won't happen again." She smiled as you took her hand, the spark fluttering through making her blush.

"Hey, I'm Y/N. Meet me at the cafe on campus. We look at the work there and start on our ideas. Don't be late." You wrote down your number and the address of the cafe on a post-it note, sliding across the desk towards her.

The bell rung, signalling the end of the lesson, and you sprung from your seat, giving Alex one final smile before you headed out the door to your next lecture.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

As you arrived at the cafe, you were shocked to find Alex already occupying a corner seat, a coffee sat on either side of the table.

"Hey." Alex's eyes lit up as she saw you. "I wasn't expecting you to be here yet"

"I told you that was just a one off." Alex explained with a smirk. She gestured to the coffee that was opposite her side of the table. "I didn't know what to get for you, so I just ordered the same as me."

"Thank you, you didn't have to." She pushed the drink closer to you as you took your seat, your hands grazing as you gratefully accepted the steaming beverage from her hands. You didn't miss the blush that accented her pale cheeks, creeping its way down her chest as you grinned at her flushed state.

A few hours into the stay at the cafe, the assignment was long forgotten, as empty plates and drinks littered the table, where both of you chattered, laughed, and joked with each other. The waitress came over and informed you both that the cafe was closing soon, so both of you packed your things up and set off through the doors into the breezy, autumn evening.

The wind whipped your hair around your face, and the trees around you rustled with the fierce breeze that soared through the air. Alex reached out her hand and removed the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. Her eyes glistened under the fading sun as she leaning in, her face inches away from your own.

"I really want to kiss you." Alex admitted. "Can I?"

You leant in, your lips brushing against hers, sparks shocking your lips as you added more pressure to hers lips. One of Alex's hands rested on your waist, pulling you closer to her, whilst her other hand caressed your chin, silently pleading you to stay.

"Would you like to come back to my dorm?." You muttered as you pulled away slightly from her embrace.

"I thought you'd never ask."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You both spent time together over the next few weeks, and then weeks turned into months, and then you had admitted that you loved Alex, however you were too afraid to admit them to her.

You had both become best friends and supported each other through thick and thin, yet the kiss and the night that you had spent together had never been spoken about since it occurred.

The end of the school year was rapidly approaching and neither you or Alex had discussed your next steps with each other. You had figured that should would become a defense attorney at the same firm that you had your eyes set on, however you couldn't be too sure.

Later that day, you met up with Alex at the cafe on campus, ordering on behalf of both of you as you awaited her arrival. She waltzed through the door and planted herself in the opposing seat to you. A light sheen of sweat covered her face as she huffed out a breath.

"I'm sorry for being late. Today's been hectic, and the workload is too much. I haven't had a break all week."

"It's okay, Lexi. You need to take a break though, I've never seen you so tense and stressed out."

"I have the weekend off, I was hoping that maybe we could spend the weekend together."

"I'd love that, more than you'd know."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Alex had booked a reservation at a nice restaurant just outside of the Harvard campus, the decoration classy and the atmosphere calm and relaxed.

You decided on wearing a figure-hugging, short black dress and your hair updo in a messy bun, with a little makeup. Alex met you at the restaurant, her blue eyes boring into yours, and then her eyes dropping down to drink you in.

"W-wow, you look...gorgeous, Y/N." Alex stuttered, her lips splitting into a shy grin.

"Thank you, Al. You don't look too bad yourself." You winked at her with a smirk on your face. You chuckled at the flush that enveloped her cheeks.

The evening went by amazingly, both of you indulging into your meals and drinks, and sharing your dessert.

"Y/N, I need to talk to you. I've decided that I'm joining prosecution at the DA's office in Manhattan. I'll be moving to New York next week and starting there shortly after."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

That was 4 years ago.

After studying at Harvard, you got a job in Chicago as a prosecutor for White Collar crimes, as well as Homicide too. However, your boss had just convinced you to transfer to Manhattan to work alongside the Special Victims Unit, as they were short-staffed and were drowning in cases.

You had caught a flight to New York on Friday and spent the weekend preparing for your new job and finding your way around the city.

Monday morning flew around and beofre you knew it, you were striding into the precinct that you had been assigned to. You were walking through the corridor to the main room you'd be spending time in when you smelt the perfume, the perfume that Alex Cabot always wore. You were hit with memories of your time together, the kisses that you had shared and especially the love that you had developed for her.

For years, you had hoped to see her again, but you hadn't heard anything from her after you had tried to contact her, with no record of her on social media.

You enter the briefing room in the precinct, where Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson were quick to fill you in on the case that you would be working on with them and another ADA. Your eyes almost popped out of your head as you were introduced to the ADA that you were working alongside, when you realised you were in the presence on Alex Cabot, the one who got away.

"H-Hi Miss Cabot, I'm Miss Y/L/N. I'll be working with you on this case." You sputtered as you offered her your hand to shake whilst you re-introduced yourself to her.

"Y/N..." Alex's eyes softened as she regarded you, her hand lingering in yours as she shook it.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you tried to desperately blink them back, refusing to cry in front of the squad and Alex, especially on your first day. Throughout the day, you felt Alex gazing at you every time you made a pitch or expressed your opinions.

You were ready to leave the precinct when you felt a tug on your blazer sleeve. You turned to see Alex towering over you, her piercing blue eyes glazing down into yours.

"Y/N, can we talk?" Her face showed worry that she would be rejected, and she honestly wouldn't blame you after she just left without any contact.

"Sure." You agreed as you opened the door to an empty interrogation room, leading the way inside of it.

"Alex. Why did you just leave? I understood you leaving for this job but I never heard off you. I really missed you!" Tears were threatening to fall from your eyes, but you tried your best to mask your sadness with a serious facade.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I heard so many stories about how relationships and friendships faltered under the stress and intensity of working at the Special Victims Unit. I was so scared that you'd have enough of me being too busy to talk or to see you, so I thought that if I cut contact with you, it wouldn't hurt as much as if you ditched me. I was so scared to let you go Y/N and I'm sorry that I never got to tell you."

"Tell me what?" You questioned.

"That I...I love you." She admitted.

"W-What?"

"Y/N, I love you so much. I never wanted to leave you and I regret never telling you any sooner."

"Alex... I-I love you too. I missed you so much."

You embraced her, tucking you head into the crook of her neck, taking in the scent that you had missed so much since she had left. She kissed the top of your head, before lifting your head to face her. Her eyes gazed at your lips, her tongue reaching out to wetten her own.

You leaned in towards her, your head tilting upwards, your lips locking in a gentle but love-filled kiss, the kiss speaking louder than any words that Alex could say.

"Will you give me a second chance?" Alex's eyes were full of hope, awaiting your answer to her question.

"On one condition. You don't leave me again."

"I promise."

[zambehnation]

so this came about because S2 Jaskier looked a little emo and my brain was like S1 Jaskier= romantic, breezy, alt-folk music think The Lumineers and S2 Jaskier= MCR and I was listening to "I dont love you" and thought what if Jaskier veered into the black eyeliner, dark reds and black clothing emo musician phase of the 2000s after a "break up" with Geralt?

Geraskier Modern AU prompt:

Jaskier and Geralt met in college. Jaskier was a double major in musical theory and theater with an alt-folk band that played in that one hipster cafe across campus that catered to art students in the late afternoons and held dnd nights for the nerdy kids every tuesday evening. He knew everyone on campus, was well liked, was invited to every party by every kind of student from the goths to the frat boys and one friday evening after midterms- when everyone else was out getting plastered and making bad choices and he, himself was drunk off his ass, thinking the library would be a decent place for a nap, he'd come across Geralt looking miserable and lonely and studying what appeared to be a giant tome with numbers and drawn figures on a friday evening!!! And he'd just felt bad and Geralt had pretty white hair and he couldnt help the clawing need in his gut to adopt this person like one of those grumpy stray cats he sometimes feeds outside the dorms. Ofcourse, Geralt had hissed and clawed when Jaskier slid into the seat across from him and tried to strike up a conversation. Ofcourse, Geralt eventually ran out annoyed but Jaskier was nothing if not a persistent little shit that kept showing up, unexpectedly until Geralt begrudgingly gave in and they became friends.

Ofcourse, they also fall in love at some point, because why not? but neither of them want to destroy a good thing and Jaskier thinks Geralt is straighter than an arrow and Geralt thinks he couldnt possibly compete with all the beautiful people Jaskier falls into brief and intense situationships with and though Jaskier flirts he'd never be seriously interested and really theyre both just morons.

Fast forward 10 years into their unlikely friendship, Geralt with a not exciting but stable job as an engineer, met Yennefer at some company gathering and he and Jaskier have a falling out because Jaskier doesnt like Yennefer but he was trying so hard not to show it and come off as a jealous bitch and Geralt wants to try with someone else because 10 years is a long time to be in love with someone who was unable to be serious about anyone and he thought he wanted normal- white picket fence, and a kid, kind of love not the wait for your messy bestfriend to get his shit together and actually see you kind of love and yes, they're morons.

Fast forward, a kid, a divorce, 5 years later and Jaskier becomes a successful musician and Geralts teenage daughter Ciri loves him and Geralt, wanting to make his adopted daughter happy is on a mission to get tickets to a sold out concert for her birthday. Only, can he really just slide into the dms, hope for the best and not reopen old wounds?

And what if, after all this time, there's still something there?

[blackhairandbangs]

A Little Inspiration

Bang Chan x Reader

info/masterlist

word count: 1.8K

genre: non-idol au, fluff?, cute flirty chan!!!, localmusician!chan

summary: after seeing each others open mic night performances, you and chan get together for a songwriting session

warnings: some kissing at the end, but thats really all! not proofread...

a/n: this fic came to be after the chan/jeongin 2 kids episode with black hole! that song makes an appearance in the fic:)

Every Sunday night you found yourself in the same place. For months, you and your band had been regulars at the open mic night held at a cozy downtown café. The stage, adorned with twinkling lights and a warm ambiance, served as the perfect backdrop for budding musicians like yourselves to showcase your talents.

Your group had performed a new concept last week, so today you were heading out just to take in the performances others had to offer. Upon entering the cafe, your nose is hit with the familiar scent of coffee and pastries. You glance around before finding an empty table on the side of the cafe that still gives you a good view of the stage where musicians have already been cycling through for the past hour. You tended to see a lot of familiar faces being a weekly regular, but the man who approached the stage was not one of them.

“Um…Hello everyone,” He spoke softly, tapping the mic to make sure it was on. “I’m Chris, you may know me online as CB97…” He trailed off, checking his phone to make sure his lyrics were all in order. This was a typical practice for the performers at the open mic night. Most of the time artists were there to test out brand new works, hoping to see how the audience reacts. 

“This song is not yet titled, so if you get a vibe, come find me later on.” He seemed shy, and you wondered how that would translate to his music, but as the first few seconds of his beat came in, you couldn’t draw yourself away from his performance. His shy demeanor had completely vanished as he rapped with immense precision. 

You tapped your foot to the beat, watching the way he existed up until the end of the song, his black fluffy hair bouncing as he moved with the rhythm. As he wrapped up, the cafe gave him a generous amount of applause. Thanking everyone, he left the stage to head to his table of friends. It was crazy to you that even coming here every week, that was your first time seeing him perform. Surely you would have remembered someone as talented as that.

As the night closed, you still found yourself drawn to him and his performance, offering glances up until you checked the time, grabbing your bag to head home. You got up to leave the cafe, not before turning  back to offer one more glance at his table before heading into the breezy night and starting your walk back to your apartment. 

“Hey,” You heard, jumping a little and turning around to greet the voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” He laughed.

“No, no it’s okay…”Your voice trailed off turning around to see the man you had been so impressed with.

“You’re awfully quiet for someone who couldn't keep their eyes off me all night.”

Your cheeks flushed red, hearing such a bold comment.

“I-I’m sorry?” You spoke, a bit flustered at the confidence exuding from him. He was so shy before starting his song, you couldn't understand where this came from. He reached a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, giving a small laugh.

“That was a bit forward,” He began. “I’m Chris.” He reaches his hand out and you take it in a quick handshake. 

“Y/N,” You speak. “I really enjoyed your set tonight. Your original songs were unlike anything I’ve heard before.”

He offered you a small smile before going back to the shy person you saw before his performance. “Oh, really? Thanks, I appreciate it.” He twiddles his thumbs a bit before speaking up again, “I saw your band play last week, your vocals are insane.”

Your eyes go big. How could you have missed his presence the last time you took the stage?  “Really? Thank you! We were just doing covers, it was nothing impressive.” 

Chris gives a small laugh.

“Don’t put yourself down, it was amazing. Have you ever written an original?”

The real answer is yes. You had notebooks and paper scattered around your room all scribbled with notes in lyrics. You had written tons of songs, but the issue was that none of them felt genuine. Love songs pulled from your imagination, break up ballads based on stories your friends told. You had tons of ideas, but the stories weren’t real and therefore the songs never left the paper.

“I’ve definitely tried,” You look down, glancing between your shoes and the pavement you stood on. “Just don’t have much to pull from when it comes to… inspiration.”

Chris nods his head softly. Writing songs could be the most challenging thing if you have nowhere to pull ideas from. 

“Well if you want to get together soon, maybe we could have a little song writing workshop? I’ve been doing this a while and I’d love to see what you have so far.” He pulls out his phone, reaching out to hand it to you.

“Put your number in, I’d really like to meet up sometime,” He offers you a warm smile as you type in your information.

Earlier in the week, you and Chris had made plans to meet at your apartment. You scrambled to clean up the mess of papers scattered on the floor of your living room from the small bout of musical inspiration that hit at 1am the night before. Right as you shuffled the last of the papers onto your coffee table, there was a small knock on your door. You took a deep breath, trying to contain your nerves as you opened the door to Chruis and his guitar.

“Thank you for having me over!” Chris gave a smile as you guided him into your living room. He looked around the decorations in your living room. A drum kit in the corner, guitars on the wall. He could only assume you were in charge of hosting band practices.

“Sorry about all the papers, I thought I had something last night, but…” You trail off as Chris takes a seat on your couch and starts shuffling through the papers on your coffee table. He hums to himself, attempting to sight read the notes you had scribbled down in a sleepy haze. 

“Y/N, this is really good so far,” You walk around the table to take a seat next to him.

“You really think so? I can’t figure out a bridge… I don’t know, none of it feels genuine. I mean, how do you even write a song about something you know nothing about?” You quietly, the last part not meaning to come out. Chris furrows his brows, looking you up and down. 

“What do you mean you know nothing about? You’ve never let yourself fall in love?”

You silently shake your head, hoping he would drop the topic. This is why you never let your songs go further than the papers you shoved under your bed. Chris grabs a pencil off the table and allows himself to sink more into the couch. He gives a small sigh, starting to finally understand you a bit more. 

“Well let’s see what we can come up with,” He flips through the pages once more finding some lyrics to help you expand upon. “I really like where you were going with the star symbolism. The two stars represent our lovers, right?”

You nodded watching him chew the end of the pencil in his hand. He gives a small hum before scribbling something on the page. You glance over to see what he had written, inching yourself a little closer. 

“You know, I read somewhere that when two stars collide, the gravity from both stars can create a black hole. Black holes draw you in, it’s like being drawn into your partner deeper and deeper, even if it’s not always perfect.” He picks up his guitar, strumming out one of the chords you had marked out on the page. “Let’s go from there, ya?”

You pick up your paper and sing along to the first few lyrics to give him a feel of the melody you had in mind.

“In the dark night sky, I feel the empty space”

You continue to sing along with his strumming until you reach the chorus where you found yourself stuck last night.

“That’s about where I lost any and all inspiration,” You say with a small laugh. “I was toying with something along the lines of falling in love but it all was sounding too cheesy.”

“I fall…” He starts. “I fall… I fall into you again, into your heart,”

Your eyes grow wide and you grab the other pencil on the table.

“Yes! That’s perfect!”

Chris puts his guitar down so he could focus more on the lyrics with you. He scoots himself just a bit closer to share the paper, your shoulders now touching.

“Keep going, what else?” He encourages. 

You tap the pencil on your thigh, “I guess I can try something like ‘I fall into you again, into your heart. I just can’t pick myself up?”

Chris shakes his head a bit.

“That’s too easy, play with the metaphors a bit. What about that black hole, what else is going on in space?”

Your smile falls. You knew you were trying to take the easy way out with the lyrics, but that was all your mind could come up with. You can’t even remember the last time someone fell in love with you. 

“I have zero inspiration, I can’t.”

Chris lifts his hand to your chin, turning you to look at him. His cold touch sends a shiver down your spine and a blush to your cheeks.

“I know you have it in you, you just need to find something to be inspired by.” He looks down at your lips before looking back in your eyes, waiting for a silent approval. You bring yourself closer, your faces only inches apart.

“I-I fall into you again, into your heart,” you started to speak out the lyrics Chris had written before he closed the gap, joining your lips together. He snakes his hands down to touch your waist as you pull away slightly.

“Leaving myself to gravity,”

Chris places soft kisses on your jawline before bringing himself back up to your lips.

“I’m trapped in your space again, there’s nothing I can do…”

You deepen the kiss after letting him add on to the lyrics. You bring your arms up to wrap around his neck so there is virtually no space between you two. You could feel the spark between you two as your lips danced together. The space that tears apart the night sky, we can’t stop.

Chris breaks the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours, “Swirling up the vast emptiness, we will shine”

You smile, feeling something you don’t think you have ever felt before. 

“I think we make a good songwriting team,” he laughs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He couldn't look away from the blush that deepened on your face. The way you looked mesmerized him the very first time he saw you perform.

“I think maybe we both just needed a little inspiration.”

a/n: happy new year my lovelies!! i hope you enjoyed some localmusician!chan :) this fic was honestly so self indulgent, i'm in a band and something about this whole situation just makes me melt my goodness!!!

send some asks and requests!! my inbox is lonely:(

[theghostofashton]

seven sentence sunday

thank you to @welcometololaland @heartstringsduet @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @strandnreyes @reyesstrand

@carlos-in-glasses @alrightbuckaroo @lemonlyman-dotcom for the tags <3

Carlos quickly loses TK among the aisles, pausing to admire some individually potted pansies and a large pot of snapdragons. The air is sweet smelling and slightly breezy, some of the leaves blowing slightly in it. Eventually, he stumbles across TK at the end of one of the middle aisles, talking to an employee with long, dark hair tied back in a thick ponytail and kind brown eyes. “I travel a lot,” TK says to the employee, as he strokes the petal of a small flower in a gorgeous purple-blue. “I just want to be sure they’ll be okay when I’m gone?” There’s something soft in his voice, the tiniest hint of genuine worry over these hypothetical plants he could end up killing while they’re in Vegas for Winter Cup next week. Carlos feels a little thrown by how much it has his heart aching. “You’re in luck,” the employee – Sanjana, according to her nametag – says, with a bright grin on her face. “Petunias are pretty easy. They need sun, and you only need to water them once a week.” The smile that widens across TK’s face when he hears the words sends butterflies fluttering through Carlos’s stomach for reasons he can’t explain.

tagging @sanjuwrites @paperstorm @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @carlos-tk @bonheur-cafe and leaving an open tag for anyone that wants to share!

[hwatermelons]

ateez ⋆ one day at a time

⋆ 24 hours of drabbles with ateez. they are not connected to each other! ⋆ 1.2k words ⋆ bf!ateez x gn!reader ⋆ tooth-rotting fluff, a little angst (hongjoong, yeosang) ⋆ warnings: slightly suggestive (wooyoung) ⋆ a/n: lowkey wrote yeosang's based on what i'd want someone to do for me;; help

╭──────────────────────────.★..─╮

[3:07 a.m. <snooze - agust d>]

mingi jolts upright, looking around frantically, trying to determine if he’s still stuck in the nightmare. his eyes fall on your warm figure snoring lightly next to him, and his gaze immediately softens. he sighs in relief, knowing that at least you're safe in real life. as he lets himself lay back down, he gently puts an arm around you and snuggles up to you from behind, never intending to let you go again.

⋆ "don't ever scare me like that again, my angel." ⋆

[7:24 a.m. <ateez - aurora>]

san pulls you in for more cuddles, burying his face in your chest. you would've gladly stayed there for the next few hours, but there was a slight problem: you were deadly ticklish. you try to pull away unsuccessfully a couple times but eventually give in, not in any small part because of how calming his morning voice is. he could say anything with that voice and you'd give him whatever he asked for, even if it meant painfully stifling your laughter until he was satisfied.

⋆ "let's sleep in," he mumbles, "the world can wait a little longer to see your beautiful face today." ⋆

[8:52 a.m. <ateez - if without you>]

seonghwa is making you both breakfast. when you awoke, you half expected to still be wrapped in his arms where you fell asleep last night, the two of you further enveloped in a blanket burrito against the cold. instead, the smell of the eggs cooking draws you into the kitchen, still half asleep. there, you see him expertly cracking the next egg into the pan with one hand. he smiles somewhat boastfully as he sees you come in, staring in disbelief at the perfectly halved eggshell.

⋆ “it was a trick my mother taught me. i can show you, if you’d like.” ⋆

[1:02 p.m. <ateez - light>]

you and yunho are out on a lunch date, taking a walk in the dog park and enjoying the breezy day after having some slightly overpriced yet delicious gourmet sandwiches at the family-owned cafe down the street. as you sip your iced tea taken to-go from the restaurant, you notice that every dog seems to want to approach yunho. he smiles back at you sheepishly, he can't help that they all seem to like him (and you can't blame them, either.) you both stop to pet all of them and eventually end up laying in the grass under the shade of a tree, breathing in the scent of freshly turned earth and contemplating the addition of a new family member:

⋆ "should we get a dog ourselves next time?" ⋆

[3:33 p.m. <christopher - bad>]

wooyoung took you shopping at the mall, and he just came out of the fitting room for the sixth time with a new outfit. it doesn't bother you, since you had just changed into your fourth in the room next to him a couple minutes ago. you and him both insist on only buying entire outfits at a time, never settling for a single good piece that didn't go with the rest of the clothes you had. just as you're about to suggest how that jacket would be much better on him in red than in black, he suddenly pulls you into his stall and closes the door without warning, a shit-eating grin on his face.

⋆ "how do i look, babe?" ⋆

[4:17 p.m. <hongjoong - draw and draw>]

you decided to follow hongjoong into the studio today. he'd promised to take you on a tour recently, and you were curious about the place where he spent so many of his waking (and what should've been his sleeping) hours. you both have an insightful conversation with the edenary team about what it's like to be a professional producer, since writing and producing music had once been a hobby of yours and you were familiar with some of the equipment and techniques, impressing hongjoong. he knew you'd made a couple songs but didn't really know how much you were interested in this. also, he hadn't pushed you about those songs because he was afraid they might be too personal to you. he knew from firsthand experience how making music could be a deeply emotional experience, and that those songs were the result of many nights spent aching alone in your room years ago. but after your studio date, he decides to take a risk:

⋆ "you know, i would love to hear some of your old songs, if you're willing to show me." ⋆

[10:22 p.m. <mr. kitty - after dark>]

you had noticed yeosang looking a little overwhelmed at today's fanmeet. his professional smile had seemed to be fixed on his face and he had hardly spoken a word once they got out. and when you asked him if he wanted to go to the usual place, his only answer was a nod. the skate park is completely empty at this time, and you watch in awe as yeosang pulls tricks that make it seem like he's flying against the backdrop of stars. out here, he seems to release all his worries to the cool night breeze, his concentration fully on his feet, the rises and dips in the concrete, and the board he's trusting his life to between them. unnoticed, you slip away to the fried chicken shop a couple blocks from the park, knowing the owners will greet you with a meaningful smile as you and yeosang had come here countless times before. tonight, however, the restaurant is packed with students enjoying some fast food for a weeknight dinner, and you want to save yeosang the trouble. when he sees you returning with the chicken, the corners of his mouth immediately pull upward and he almost looks like he's holding back tears. he holds it inside, but he wants to thank you for everything, for noticing how he felt today, for offering to come to the skate park with him, for knowing what he needed without him having to ask, because you know he would never want to put anything on your shoulders. but you don't need all of those words to understand, so he doesn't say all of that, because you already know. and for that, he will forever be grateful.

⋆ "thank you." ⋆

[11:17 pm <ateez - one day at a time>]

the night has just begun at the coin karaoke you brought jongho to, and you're smiling ear to ear as he shows to you with each passing moment that this was the perfect place to bring him for valentine's day. singing was your absolute favorite thing in the world, and even though you couldn't hit the high notes as flawlessly as he did, you're both on top of the world as you belt out the lyrics to everything from ballads to musicals to rock. you already know all the rap parts to the songs you both chose by heart, and have a lot of fun almost outrapping top names in the industry. jongho teaches you the dance moves to some classic girl group songs, and you giggling at him only motivates him to dance even harder. around 2 a.m., you both end the night on a beautiful, familiar melody:

⋆ " when it's overwhelming, hold on tight i'll be here, don't forget it, cause in life, sometimes you need a helping hand, you'll be alright, just take it slow, one day at a time." ⋆

╰─..★.──────────────────────────╯

⋆ likes/reblogs appreciated ⋆ do not repost ⋆

[ceilingfan5]

If you're still looking for an object + emotion prompt, "holographic vampire sticker" + "I am looking Respectfully???" for Taakitz pls?

“Hey, sick stickers,” the barista that Kravitz has been dreaming about like some kind of avenging angel whispers, cleaning tables conspicuously close to Kravitz’s set up in the cafe. 

He can’t help it. He jumps, embarrassing himself properly when he bumps his coffee and it slorshes unto the table. He scrambles to save his piles and suffocating piles of papers, and barista-angel, Taako, if his nametag can be trusted, which is doubtful, comes to the rescue. 

“Man,” he laughs. “Why didn’t you have the lid on?”

Kravitz sweats. 

“Is that why you have whipped cream on your nose?”

Kravitz imagines leaving the country. 

“Um,” he manages. “Hello.” It isn’t as suave as he hoped. Like if suave got ran over, frozen,  put in a blender, and transmitted via am radio in that order. You can hear the texture, and it’s really…something. “What?”

‘Taako’, probably, laughs, a goofy, musical sort of thing that makes Kravitz’s guts squeeze like some sort of non-FDA approved “medical” “equipment”. 

“You good, dude? You want to start over?”

“Yes!” Kravitz wants to disappear completely, but this angel is not, apparently, an angel of mercy. “Hi. Hello. Thank you for liking- I’m- they’re good stickers, yeah.”

“I like the vampire one.” He leans over and his floppy frilly shirt with the crazy sleeves for baristaing falls open over his apron, and Kravitz can see all the way to his navel. He can’t look away. He’s looking respectfully, please, please, please, he promises. 

“The, uh, the, holographic- I’m sorry, I promise I can sound like an adult man in control of himself, can I-” Kravitz takes a breath. “Yeah, they’re good, do you like vampires?”

“Hell yeah.” Taako grins, and shoots up (noooo, don’t go, Kravitz was catching a glint of a happy trail on his tummy and having Church Sanctioned Thoughts For Sure.) He throws an arm out and pretends to hide behind a cape. “Bleehhhh, I vant to suck your dick!”

Two paths diverge in front of Kravitz. There’s a breezy, sun-dappled path called Oh yeah? The feeling is mutual, stud, what time do you get off? Because if you want to get off, I’m your guy. 

The other is a steep downhill bear infested boulder plinko, called flipping his coat out like a cape, adopting the thickest dracula he can, and making a horrid face, firing right back at his blessed saint Taako, if that is his real name, “You thought I vas arousink you for horny reasons, but now all your blood is in your dick! I’ve got you now, ah- ah- ah- ah!”

Guess which path Kravitz careened down like his life depended on it. Guess. Guess.

But Taako doubles over laughing, knocking Kravitz’s nearest stack of books down. Oh no. 

“Ah- I’ve-” but Taako’s already grabbing Kravitz’s erotica research off the floor, and his eyebrows go Way Up. 

“Lookin’ up new methods?” he teases. 

“Writing original fictions,” Kravitz says, dying a thousand days. Maybe two thousand. And a half. 

“Fuck yeah, that sounds rad. Not vampire erotica, is it?” Taako looks interested. Taako looks interested??

“Not this one, but my last one, yes? Yeah? Do you- are you. Interested in vampire erotica? I have a copy in my bag, I could even sign it for you-”

“Mmmmm,” Taako grins. He grabs Kravitz’s pen and scrawls a phone number right on top of his notes. He crosses his sevens. That’s so hot of him. “I’m illiterate. How about you dramatize it for me.”

“I can do that,” Kravitz manages, swallowing thickly. “I can do that. I, hey, you’ll be an expert in the plot when you walk away.” 

“Sweet,” Taako winks, turning and heading back to work. “I’m really into plot.”

Kravitz sits there, stunned. He wonders if Taako’s serious, or if he’s just been fucked with. He wonders if he asks real nice, he can go ask for more whipped cream, cause his is gone, gone, gone like a freight train, or maybe a goofy sugar-crafted train like you’d ride to Candyland. Is there good infrastructure in Candyland? What’s their taxation like? Surely not great, right? It is a monarchy-

And then Taako jump-turns, stanced, and lifts his apron for one more “BLEHHHHHHHH!”

And Kravitz knows he’s got a chance. 

[missgavi]

can you a gavi x reader where they “ meet “ at a party and fall in love drunk and exchange numbers and that but once they were sober the next day realized who they were talking to over the phone ? if that makes sense :)

yes yes yes yeeeees

pulling away from the kiss for some air, with a look of daze you smile up at the boy who just had his lips against your. he smiles back, one of his hands reaching out to caress your cheek. 

just as you’re about to dive back in, one of the friends you came with runs over to the two of you. “y/n honey, so sorry to interrupt you and your ... friend” she says with a cheeky smile towards you “but Sara’s missing, we can’t find her anywhere around the club and we need your help to find her and take her home. Again, sorry to come in between you two but this is serious” 

she was right, this was serious. you and your friends had a pact, you come together, you leave together. rarely are exceptions made. your friend leaves and you look up at the boy, his hands low on your hips and his lips still bruised from yours. “I’m so so sorry, but I have to help my friend” 

At your apologetic tone, the boy lifts his hand up to your cheek to caress it once again. “hey don’t worry, it’s fine. go help your friend out. here” he reaches out for your phone which you had in your back pocket and opens the phone app. 

He types in some numbers before giving it back to you “text me tomorrow ?” 

You were too caught up in the feeling of his hands still on you and his confident attitude that you can barely get out an “mhm” 

The boy chuckles before leaning down for one final kiss “mhm ?” You meekly nod before saying your goodbyes and go to search for your friend. 

__________________

After some final words of encouragement you man up and dial the guy from last night. You wanted to scream when you realised you didn’t catch his name and the only thing you had in your phone app was “chico guapo del club” cocky right ? 

Two dials later a breezy voice answers “Y/n, wondered when you’d call” he says, confidence radiating in his voice. Laughing to yourself you respond “wish I could greet you but someone neither gave me their name nor did they put it in my phone” you playfully accuse him earning a breathy laugh. 

“How about I take you out ? maybe then I’ll actually give you my name” 

You agree and once the time and place is set you hop in the shower and start getting ready. Once you were all dolled up you lock your door and make your way over to the little cafe you were supposed to meet him at. 

Arriving there first, you sit down and just as you were about to text him you got there you spotted Pablo Gavi somewhere far way from the cafe you were at, walking in that direction. 

Instead of texting, you pull your eyes away from the footballer and call your date. “Quick question , are you FC Barcelone fan ?” you ask, trying not to look at Gavi.

A beat passes before he replies “Let’s say so, why ?” 

“Okay, don’t freak out but Pablo Gavi is in the same area as our cafe so I suggest you get here as fast as possible” 

Too busy with the man on the other line, you don’t even register the person standing next to you. it isn’t until you hear the same voice both in the speaker and next to you. “You don’t say” 

Looking up , you see the Pablo Gavi standing next to you, a cocky smirk plastered on his face. Hanging up the phone, you look up at him and what’s the first thing that you say ?

“Oh fuck you” 

Your response caught Gavi off guard and made him laugh “Fuck me ? Why ? I mean, I get why, you’ll get to do that later but why ?” 

Standing up, you playfully nudge him “How dare you not tell me you are the Pablo Gavi ?” you ask, a teasing smile on your lips.

Pablo smiles as well, leaning down to kiss your cheek before sitting down across you and waving the waiter over. After ordering , he turns to you “I did tell you, last night” You stare confused at him “Oh , you mean you don’t remember when i told you I play for Barca and you very confidently stated you could ,in your words, wipe the field with me ?” he repeats your words from last night, amusement evident in his voice. 

Blushing, you shy away “hey, In my defence i was drunk okay ? now stop making fun of me” 

“ why would I ? you’re cute when you blush” he says , another smirk planted on his lips before taking a sip on his drink. 

“I hate you” you mutter, a huge smile still visible on your lips. 

“no you don’t” 

[carmillas-vampiric-rage]

bi-han hates country music. and i mean hates. he immediately begins finding the source of the music and will turn it off. doesn't matter if he's in a store, airport, restaurant, cafe, that shit is getting turned off.

if he hasn't already loped across the room to intact revenge, he's (loudly) grumbling about how asinine it sounds. how mind numbing and grating it is on his very being.

"why is he talking about riding a tractor- how can anyone take this music seriously?"

"I've heard enough. he did not just say he notices her drinking a white claw."

"I've never been so disgusted by someone saying they had a catfish dinner."

kuai liang, tomas and or his partner just gotta listen to him going off. they're all used to it, and usually don't even pay him much mind as he unleashes on the radio in the dinky little lunch stop they all made on their way to do whatever liu kang feels on that day.

even a snippet of a banjo or a breezy guitar has him whipping his head around like someone insulted his mother.

[thus-spoke-lo]

I have nothing in my writing tank at the moment except to say Sanji would feed stray cats without question.

You’re sitting at a cafe together, enjoying lunch in the breezy warmth of the afternoon, and you don’t even see or hear the cat that’s nestled at his feet—you just see him extract morsels of meat and cheese from his sandwich now and again and lean to the side, all without breaking conversation or eye contact with you. You already know what he’s up to, feeding the strays of the this village like he feeds the strays that congregate aboard the Sunny.

You smile at Sanji, who gives you a shrug and an expression that says, “What? It’s nothing.” Eventually you feel a fuzzy body brush against your leg, and glance down to see a little face blinking slowly at you, as if to thank you both for your company.

[intothegenshinworld]

 🍂*₊“𝐀𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐧”

wc: 1.2k (no beta, we die like the light in Childe's eyes) prompt used: "sharing scarves" for the falltober prompt 'event' of @astronetwrk! a/n: this post has been queued weeks in advance.

The sweltering summer days had given way to gloomy ones. From dusk to dawn, rain would fall down from the skies, the once bright colors of blooming flora now replaced by stale brown, further intensifying the bleak atmosphere.  

And just like the seasons, your clothes had changed these past weeks as well. The once short and breezy outfits had been replaced by sweaters and jeans, and it still left you defenseless against the cold winter zephyrs in Snezhnaya. Every breeze made you shiver, and the only solution was to clutch your jacket closer to your body and bury your hands as deep as you could in your pockets. 

You had been waiting for your boyfriend, Ajax, who definitely should’ve been back by now. He had told you to wait at one of the lonely benches out in the town streets while he’d fetch hot chocolate from a small cafe, but when you checked your phone, ten minutes had already passed, and you knew the lines couldn’t be that long. 

So here you were, idly watching other people pass by as you waited for his return.

If you knew Ajax (you did, you’d been with him for a while now), you’d bet money on the fact that he’d gotten distracted by the new Halloween decorations hanging everywhere in the town.

These last few days, Ajax had been rambling non-stop about ‘Halloween’ and how he’d bring his younger brother, Teucer, for trick or treating, something he’d done for many years now. He wanted to get matching outfits with him, but when Teucer threw a fit, saying; “I’m not longer a kid”, he turned to you instead.  

If he was taking this long, he’d probably be stuck behind a window, eying a decoration he hadn’t seen before and thinking of the next matching outfit to suggest to you.  

A ping chimes from your phone. It successfully throws you out of your daze and you grab the phone with a sense of urgency. The sooner you’d be able to put your hands back in the safety and warmth of your pockets, the better.  

After you unlock the screen with your numb fingers, you click on the notification from Ajax. It’s a selfie.

Half of his face is hidden behind his red scarf, his nose that barely peeked out from behind the fabric is dusted a soft shade of pink, it brings a nice contrast to the freckles coating his cheekbones and bridge of his nose. In his left hand, he holds a small flimsy-looking tray with two paper cups (the hot chocolate, you assume), and behind him is an adorable illustration of two ghosts.

 A puff of air escapes your lips. You can’t hide the smile that forms on your face. 

Quickly, another notification pops up and you send a message back before he has the chance to scavenge the internet for white sheets with cut-out holes.

The message is read, and his status turns from online to offline soon after. It only takes a few seconds before you see your boyfriend rushing to you through the streets. 

“Are you alright?” Ajax’s eyes glance up and down your figure. His face is scrunched into an expression of guilt and worry.

He moves his free hand to yours as he sits down next to you on the bench, frowning when he feels your cold hands. He gently rubs his thumb over your knuckles. “We’ll need to buy you gloves. I don’t think it’s healthy for you to get cold so quickly.”  

“I wouldn’t need any if my boyfriend would keep me warm instead of hunting ghosts on store windows.” You retort back with a cheeky smile. His mere presence is enough for you to feel warmer again. 

His worry falters for a moment, replaced by a smile before returning. “Here, —” He removes his hand from yours and wiggles one of the paper cups from the flimsy tray. “Drink up. It’s the best you can get in Morepesok” 

To your delight, the hot chocolate is still warm when you bring it up to your lips. You don’t need to wait for it to cool down, it’s the perfect temperature, and you sigh in content after downing half of it in one go.  

Ajax brushes the back of his hand against your cheek. “You can have mine as well. I’m used to Snezhnayan winters, I can handle it.”  

You roll your eyes as you huddle closer into your jacket. “It’s autumn, dumbass.” 

A snort escapes his lips. “You call those flimsy two weeks of ‘brown leaves’ autumn?” 

Fair enough.  

You scoff, and the puff of air that escapes your lips forms into a small cloud before it dissipates again.  

While you were both studying in Liyue, Ajax had often mentioned how gentle the weather had been compared to the conditions he grew up in. He’d talked about ice fishing, a thing he still does, and made fun of the foreigners coming to visit the Nation during the winter months.  

It’s ironic how you’re one of those people now. 

“Hold this,” Ajax shoves his own cup into your hands and removes the scarf from his neck. He seems adamant about keeping you warm and doesn’t give you time to question him as he wraps the fabric around your face in a delicate manner. 

With the scarf out of his face, you’re able to see how he purses his lips in concentration as he tucks the end of the red fabric into a loose loop, preventing any cold air from attacking your neck any further. 

It smells like him. You first catch a hint of lavender from the laundry detergent his family uses, but with the scarf right at your nose, you also notice how it failed to fully cover his natural body scent.  

In a way, the scarf comforts you. Not only is it warming you up and preventing you from the cold breezes, but it also reminds you of the moments spent in his arms.  

You look up into his eyes when he finally stops fussing over you. 

“But now you’ll get cold.“ Your voice comes out muffled.

Ajax bumps his shoulder gently into yours. “See it as payback for making you wait.“ 

He takes the paper cup he had previously shoved into your hands and drinks his own share of hot choco. “If you feel bad about it, you can always offer to share.“ He turns to you with a cheeky smile on his face. 

And while you know he wasn’t being serious, you urge him closer. 

Like he had done with you before, you shove your now half-empty cup into his hands before removing the fabric around your neck. With a little bit of help on his side, you’re able to wrap the scarf around the both of you. Admittedly, this doesn’t nearly provide as much warmth as it did before, but Ajax was already making up for that.  

His shoulder is comfortably pressed against yours, and when he turns his head to face you, your noses are but a mere inch away from touching each other. 

You smile. “Tell me about the diy ghost outfit?“ 

He lets out a chuckle as he hands you your half-full paper cup. “Couldn’t let me enjoy the moment for a little while longer?”

© intothegenshinworld. Do not copy, repost, translate or take heavy inspiration from my content. Thanks for reading.