#but to be fair one of the few fics i did manage to get out was having him watch his mom get crushed. so. um …..

[lanternlightss]

realizing that once again my first fic for a fandom will be hitting a character with a bat emotionally and i. how. is this turning into a pattern

[lovelettersfromluna]

The Summoning

summary: so now you’re fucking your roommate on the regular, what could possibly go wrong? It’s just for the camera, right?

an: You guys!! I’m so so happy with the feedback if received for the first chapter of this fic, I want to give you guys as much camgirl!Ellie as I possibly can. So, as before, let’s keep this short and sweet so we can get into it, love you so so so much (also shout out to everyone’s comments and asks on what they wanted to see for this chapter! Yoi all helped me sm! You all know who you are hehe)

warnings: smut!! 18+, MDNI, camgirl!ellie, roommate!ellie, biker!Ellie (there’s lots of tropes in this one lol), JELOUS!ELLIE, mentions of an older woman but it’s so brief, mentions of alternate love interest, face sitting, fingering, filming of intercourse, use of strap, mentions of the word cock, ANGST!, slight fluff??, lmk if I missed anything!

You can read part 1 here!, and part 3 here!

A soft puff of air blew past your lips as you finished organizing the last shelf of records, your eyes looking down at the remainder vinyls that most definitely wouldn’t fit into any of the space you had.

God you hated the holidays.

Well you didn’t, you loved the colder months. It was so cozy, and welcoming, however you hated it as a retail worker. With the changing of the seasons came your manager with boxes of new vintage records that he explained were in high demand for the customers coming in and out of the city, all of which you had to change out and organize from the last collection you’d had for the summer time.

So the holidays were fine, just not when you were working.

Not to mention, the only thing plaguing your mind these days was a specific brunette who had quite the tongue on her.

After that night, Ellie had you rewatch the video, making sure you were okay with it, and it was okay to post. It was weird, because you’d never really seen yourself that way. You never moan too loud, or put on too much of a show during sex, it just was what it was, and it wasn’t ever really done with an audience in mind. But seeing yourself in Ellie’s lap, her strong hands running up and down your body, working on your pussy like a fucking pro, you had to admit.

You looked damn fucking good on camera.

And you weren’t the only one that thought so. After you gave Ellie the okay to post and edit the video, the response was amazing. Gone where the comments asking where Ellie’s usually girl was, missing the chemistry they had, her whiny moans and pretty body, all of which were replaced by a sea of comments and donations coming in, all on your behalf. They asked Ellie to please keep you around, putting in suggestions of what they wanted to see next, what they wanted to see her do to you, next.

Ellie wasn’t wrong, the crowd fucking loved you.

So? You filmed another video. And another, and another, and another, until you and Ellie had created nearly an entire box set of home movies for her adoring fans, all of which had become your adoring fans practically over night.

And fuck, did Ellie know what she was doing.

Sure, you’d had your fair share of good sex in the past. Your ex was pretty good with her hands, and there was that one girl you were seeing for a few months, she was okay with her strap.

But Ellie? Jesus Christ, you quickly caught onto why Julia acted the way she did after Ellie was done with her.

It was all you could think about, the way that Ellie treated your body when you were filming. The way she never failed to pay attention to every part of you before herself, the way she kissed you, the way her hands ran down your body, the way she simply knew how to pleasure a woman.

And it wasn’t like there was any real harm in any of it, right? In helping your roommate with her line of work? That’s what it was after all. You helped Ellie make her content, and she fucked you until you could barely think straight.

In simpler terms, Ellie knew how to fuck, and she knew how to fuck good. Filming with her only further proved that.

Your eyes scanned the record store once more, a stack of records in your hands as you tried looking for another place where these god forsaken vinyls could go. You were close to simply shoving them underneath the cash register, calling it a night and going home before the drunk tourists eager to visit the city got in your way of getting to your bus stop.

You spotted a spot on top of one of the shelves, which made you huff softly in annoyance. You usually avoided it since you couldn’t reach it, vowing to never put yourself out of your way for a bunch of records no one will want to buy, but there weren’t many and you figured you already had them out, so might as well finish what you started.

As you struggled to push the records up into the tall shelf, you heard the little ding at the front door of your shop over the soft music that you had playing. You couldn’t even bother to turn around, knowing it was most definitely some drunk idiot trying to buy a last minute gift for someone.

“Sorry…we’re…fuck…we’re closed” you huffed out as you struggled even further, the tips of your fingers finally pushing one of the records up and sliding it into place. You didn’t even realize you didn’t hear the usual apology paired with the bell ringing again, signaling that the person had left.

It wasn’t until you felt a hand push into the sliver of skin that was slightly exposed between your jeans and your top, making you shriek loudly and recoil from the persons touch. Once you turned around, you were prepared to smash the stack of records you had over the idiots head who thought it was okay to come in and touch random girls while they worked.

But you only came face to face with those gorgeous green eyes that you seemed to constantly see, even when she wasn’t around.

You let out a soft gasp, reaching forward and landing a not so friendly punch on her leather clad arms, a soft huff leaving your lips as you watched your roommate snort softly at you, trying to stifle a laugh.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Ellie?? I could’ve dropped these” you whine, looking down at the disheveled records before you turned around, going back to trying to pushing them back into their spot.

Ellie sighed softly as she came down from her laughing fit, setting her helmet down on the row of records next to her as she leaned against it. “Shouldn’t you be locking the door once you’re closed? Sounds like a safety hazard to me” she hummed out, clearly trying to get under your skin.

You could practically hear that stupid fucking smirk on her lips, which makes you roll your eyes, even if she was right.

“I had a customer before I started putting these away…I’ll lock up once I’m finished” you explained, still struggling with the second record you had, which makes Ellie chuckle softly.

She pushed herself off of the row she was leaned up against before she stood behind you, her chest pressing against your back, one of her hands resting on your hip, giving it a gentle squeeze, before she reached up with ease and pushed the record in with ease.

You let out a soft huff softly, looking down at her hand on your waist before you turn around, looking up at her and narrowing your eyes at the girl. “Is that really necessary?” You question as you gesture to her hand, which only makes her shrug before bringing her hand down and giving your ass a firm squeeze, “not at all. Gimme those and go grab your stuff, I’m taking you home” she explained before she promptly took the records and put them away on the shelf for you.

You simply stare at her in disbelief, watching as she put away the records with ease. She looked over at you, nodding her head towards the back where she knew you kept your stuff while you were working. “Go on. I don’t wanna get stuck in traffic” she explained, which makes you roll your eyes at her before you stomp off to go and grab your things.

Damn her for being so fucking hot.

Soon, you had your jacket on and your bag was slung over your shoulder. When you walked out to the store front to shut off the lights and the music, Ellie was scrolling through her phone, leaned up against the cashier, seemingly waiting for you. She gave you a soft smile when she noticed you were there, pushing her phone into her pocket. “Ready?” She asked, moving to grab her helmet.

You nodded, returning the soft smile before you grabbed the keys, nodding your head towards the door. “Ready” you confirm.

She followed behind you, waiting for you as you locked up the store before leading her out.

You shivered slightly when you both step out into the cold air, watching as the lights of the city illuminate the street, welcoming everyone who was in need of a night out. You just wanted to get home.

You watched as Ellie walked in front of you, setting her helmet down before she opened up her seat to grab her spare and handing it to you before she put hers on and swung her leg over her bike to get on.

Usually, Ellie didn’t pick you up from work. She was most likely busy filming with Julia, finishing up far too late to meet you at work. Sometimes, she’d be in the area and she’d pick you up, but that wasn’t something that happened quite often for you two.

But, ever since you took Julia’s place, Ellie had been picking you up a lot more often.

You took the helmet from her, putting it on your head before you got onto Ellie’s bike, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your head along her leather clad back. You heard a soft chuckle muffled by her helmet, her head turning to the side a bit as she felt you cuddle into her from behind.

"Don't need to tell you to hold on tight, do I?" She teased, which earns a soft pinch to her side from you.

Before you know it, Ellie is turning on the engine to her bike, revving it a bit, and you two are speeding down the streets of the city towards your apartment.

The feeling of the cold breeze kissing your exposed skin as Ellie drove you both down the streets made your blood pump. It was fucking stupid, but drives home with her had a way of truly making you feel alive for a bit.

You’d never tell her that, though. It would blow her head up way too much.

Ellie had a tendency to show off in many aspects of her life. One of those manifested whenever she was on her bike. She’d rev her engine when she saw a group of pretty girls, tattooed hands gripping the handles of her bike as she watched them swoon over her. She’d get a kick out of it whenever they’d squeal over her, trying their best to call her back, an attempt at trying to get her to turn around and give them more attention.

You thought it was stupid. It was just Ellie on a bike after all.

Ellie stopped once she reached a red light, her back straightening out a bit as she rested one of her hands on her thighs, patting a mindlessly rhythm into her jean clad leg as she waited for it to turn green so you could both get moving again. Your hands loosened a bit on her waist as you waited as well.

You noticed from the corner of your eye a car pulling up next to you. It’s a sleek black 1969 dodge charger, the lights of the city bouncing off of the shiny paint. It isn’t too flashy, but enough so that anyone can appreciate. You can’t help but gawk a bit at the beautiful car, not at all noticing the window slowly rolling down.

You hear a whistle, which catches both yours and Ellie’s attention. In the car, is an older woman. You took not of her features, noticing how pretty she was, long hair tucked up into a bun, body adorned in what you could only assume was an expensive suit. You notice her lips tugged beneath her teeth as her dark eyes bore holes into your direction, and you can only assume she’s gawking at Ellie, as one usually does when she’s out on her bike. As you look closer, you realize she isn’t looking at Ellie.

She’s looking at you.

And you can’t even deny that your chest doesn’t warm up, because she’s clearly extremely beautiful. Her strong, ring clad hands gripping the steering wheel as her eyes travel down your body. You didn’t think that when you tugged on your favorite pair of jeans and your old brown jacket that same morning that you’d be getting attention from anyone, let alone from a fucking rich milf in the middle of the road.

But you aren’t the only one to notice, because you feel Ellie shift forward, her own hands going back to grip the handle bars of her bike, her head never leaving the direction of the woman who’s shamelessly undressing you with her eyes. You gasp softly underneath your own helmet when the feeling of Ellie revving her bike catches you off guard, ripping you away from the trance the woman has you in. You turn your head to look at Ellie, hands tightening a bit around her waist to prepare your take off.

But Ellie’s head never leaves the woman.

This catches the woman’s attention, and she merely chuckles softly before she sticks her hand out her window and gives Ellie a slight wave, as if to silently tell her she’d back off. The light turns green, and while you think that’s the end of it, you catch a glimpse of the woman sending a wink your way before she zooms off, which prompts Ellie to do soon after, just as fast, knuckles turning white as she gripped her handle bars.

If you weren’t holding on tight enough to Ellie, you’d probably have gone flying.

When you both get home, you decide not to question the very bizarre interaction you both had with that woman, figuring it was just Ellie being Ellie, and there wasn’t really anything to it anyways.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

It makes it even stranger that when you both walk through the door, Ellie doesn’t show a single sign of annoyance, which makes you feel like you’re hallucinating even more than you were before. She’s walking into the apartment, tugging off her jacket and tossing it on a nearby chair, and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge before plopping down onto the couch.

So yeah, you’re probably just tired.

You let out a soft hum as you tug off your own jacket before hanging it up, grabbing Ellie’s and hanging it up as well. She had a bad habit of shedding her layers off as soon as she got through the door.

You stand before Ellie in the living room, her legs spread as she babysits a bottle of water, eyes never leaving yours. You watch as she pats her lap quietly, which forces you to give her a look of disbelief.

Usually, you’d have a witty remark for that sort of gesture from Ellie, which would often times be paired with a pillow to her face. But there’s simply something about the way her legs are spread out on the couch, looking so fucking inviting, that makes you quietly follow her orders, and straddle her lap.

Now, most intimacy was supposed to be saved for the camera, it was an unspoken rule of filming with Ellie, or it was a rule you set for yourself. Apart from warming up before filming, letting Ellie get you nice and wet for her before you got on camera with her, there wasn’t really a reason to have any sort of intimacy with her. Things were supposed to go back to normal when you weren’t on camera, back to how things were as roommates.

But, you’d be lying if you said that’s how it was. You and Ellie had always had an affectionate relationship, one that never went without cuddling, caressing, even crashing in your bed from time to time when she couldn’t sleep. You were no stranger to Ellie’s strong hands on your body, because that was just Ellie. She had a thing for gripping and groping, always wanting her hands to be occupied with something whenever you were near, you assumed that’s how she was with everyone.

There just seemed to be something about getting regularly fucked by Ellie that made the intimacy take a different level, a different course that made things feel…different.

And of course, there’s no harm in that. You watched Ellie kiss Julia goodnight every time she left the house, always taking an extra few minutes to hold her when they were done. If they could do it, why couldn’t you two do it?

Ellie let out a soft hum of approval when you straddled her lap, disregarding the water bottle so that both her hands were free to grip your hips, pulling you closer to her. Your hands went around her neck, toying with the hair at the nape of her neck as she pressed her face against your neck, giving your skin a deep inhale.

“Missed you today…” she mumbled softly against your skin, which makes you roll your eyes playfully, yet still keeping her close. “You saw me this morning before I left” you argue softly, which only earns a soft whine from Ellie, you can feel her lips form a pout against your throat before she presses soft kisses to it.

“So? Still missed you” she explained, her voice low as she spoke. You can’t help but giggle softly, staring down at the girl as she litters your throat with soft kisses.

But this feels way too fucking intimate, even for you and Ellie.

You clear your throat, tugging her hair back a bit to force her to look at you, which makes Ellie groan softly, half in annoyance, and half in pleasure. She loved it whenever you did what you wanted with her.

“We filming tonight?” You ask quickly, a sorry attempt at trying to interrupt this soppy little scene you and her are having.

You see a flash of something ripple through Ellie’s green eyes, something you can’t quite put your finger on, because she’s changing her expression much too quickly, giving you and eager nod as her hands go from gently caressing you, to gripping your ass tightly. This makes you whine softly in her lap.

“Eager to have me…aren’t you baby” she chuckles softly, the shift in her personality clear as her eyes quickly darken with lust. You swallow nervously, always feeling small in front of Ellie whenever she looked at you that way. You feel the way she slowly begins grinding your hips down into her lap, strong hands gripping you and moving you as she pleased. You can only nod, your lips forming a gentle pout before a gentle sigh leaves them.

“Always…” you moan out softly, which makes her smirk up at you proudly. You’d gotten so good at voicing what you wanted these past few weeks, it made warmth pool at Ellie’s core.

She gives your ass a firm spank before she nodded her head towards her room. “Go get the camera, baby” she ordered gently, that delicious tone of dominance lacing her words, you quickly followed her instructions, getting up from her lap and going to her room to get the equipment.

That was another thing, with your new presence in Ellie’s work, came a change of scenery in her videos.

Ellie usually kept her videos and streams exclusive to her bedroom, having the common courtesy to not fuck all over your shared apartment. But now that it was just you two, there was a new sense of freedom when it came to filming with you. It happened one day when Ellie was finger fucking your pussy on the couch, and had the bright idea to grab her camera, because it was just too fucking good to not hit record on.

Once again, another example of intimacy outside of filming.

You returned with all of the filming equipment, never knowing what Ellie had planned for a shoot, so instead opting to bring everything so she could choose from.

Ellie smirks softly as she sits up from her spot on the couch, eyes low and filled with lush as you walk back into the living room. You lift up her camera and her tripod, a confused frown on your lips as you look between the two. “M’not sure what you wanted to film, so I brought both. I can always go back and-“ she’s quickly cutting you off, standing up from the couch and slowly making her way to you before she takes both out of your hands gently, and sets them down on your coffee table.

“We can focus on that, later…I need to make sure you’re ready..” she purred out, making you swallow back a whimper.

Her hands go down to yours, gently gripping your arms before she pushes them to rest around her neck, her own hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush to her body.

‘Making sure you were ready’ was just Ellie’s way of saying she wanted a moment with you off camera.

You simply give her a nod, your head already tilting forward as you lean in to press a kiss to her soft lips. Ellie groans in approval, her head tilting to the side a bit as soon as you were pressed against her, deepening the kiss. Her nimble fingers slide down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze while also using the leverage to pull you closer, pressing your chest firmly against hers. This make you gasp, and as always, she uses that opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth.

Ellie smirks into the kiss, her tongue exploring your mouth as her hands massage your ass through your jeans.

“Been needy for me, baby? I’ve been needy for you…” she confessed between the feverish kiss. It was slow, and dirty, and so fucking erotic, it had your panties soaked already.

All you could do was nod, desperately pushing your lips back against hers as you tugged at her shirt. “Thought about you all day…” you said mindlessly, which makes Ellie chuckle softly against you.

“Yeah? God…me fuckin too…kept thinking about your pretty cunt all day…fucked my self so many times to the thought of you…” she groaned out. Her words make you moan a bit louder.

You’re so fucked out already, that you can barely register what it is that she just confessed to you.

Ellie hums softly as she breaks the kiss, looking down at you as you stare up at her with lust filled eyes and a needy pout. She tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, her own swollen lip tugged between her teeth.

“Bet you loved when that woman was staring at you…didn’t you.”

This catches you off guard.

Your eyes widen a bit, shocked over the fact that Ellie was even bringing it up to you, especially when all you wanted was her hands on your cunt, not the image of another woman in your head.

You don’t know why, but your first response is to quickly shake your head.

“What? She wasn’t…I didn’t notice her staring” you try, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. Ellie chuckles softly as she watches you, catching your chin between her thumb and pointer finger as she angles your face up a bit more to stare up at her.

“It’s okay baby…she was very pretty…” she agreed, giving a slow nod before she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, head cocking to the side in a teasing manner before she hummed out softly.

“You think she could make you feel as good as I do?” She questioned, blown out pupils surrounded by a sliver of green staring down into your own.

And again, you’re quickly shaking your head, because you know for a fact that there is probably only a handful of people on this planet that can fuck you as good as Ellie can, and that’s being generous to the general population. Ellie fucks good, and anyone who gets to experience that is fucking lucky.

They’re also ruined for anyone else who comes after her.

“Fuck…you know no one can…come on El…need you so bad…” you whine softly, giving Ellie a whiny little pout as you tug at her shirt further, feeling like you’ll explode if you don’t have her hands on you in the next few seconds. Ellie simply chuckles, watching as you whine and pout for her, a sorry attempt at trying to find your way out of the conversation.

“You’re damn right they can’t…such a good girl…” she praises, which makes you whine softly.

Ellie hums softly as she stares down at your body, giving your waist a gentle tap. “Stay here.” She ordered softly before she moved over to set up the camera.

You watch as she sets up the tripod, making it level with the couch, low enough so that it stops right where the back of the couch ends, so that it doesn’t catch your kitchen in the background. She turns it on before she goes behind it, bending down a bit to make sure the angle is good before she nods to herself before she moved to sit down on the couch much like she was earlier, legs spread wide, her dark jeans stretching over her toned thighs. Her arms stretched along the back of the couch, dark eyes boring holes as she watched you.

“Strip” she ordered.

Fuck.

You immediately began slowly stripping for her. Staring with your t shirt, then with your jeans, leaving you in your bra and panties for a moment before you removed those as well, until you were fully naked in front of Ellie, her eyes eating you up like a hungry animal.

“So fuckin pretty…Jesus…” she groaned softly underneath her breath, letting you simply stand there, naked for her, under the dim lighting of your cozy living room.

After a moment passed, she nodded her head towards the camera. “Start recording, and then come over here.” She instructed once again, and she didn’t need to tell you twice.

You slowly walked over to the camera. On the screen, you could see Ellie on the camera, only her body visible, looking so fucking strong and confident. You knew from the angle of the camera alone, that Ellie’s viewers were in for a treat with this one.

And so were you.

When you hit record, you made your way over to Ellie slowly. She hummed softly, eyes staring up at you as you stood over her before she looked down at her lap, as if silently telling you to take a seat. You straddled her lap, the rough material of her jeans on your naked body making you hiss softly.

Ellie hummed, her large hands roaming your body the second you were on her lap. “Fuck…look at you baby..came home to all this?” Her words make you frown in confusion for only a moment, yet you quickly catch onto the fantasy that she’s trying to sell to her viewers.

You give a soft giggle, nodding as you lean in to press a soft kiss to her temple. “Missed you so much…wanted to surprise you..” you purr out softly, a soft whine leaving your lips once Ellie began to slowly grind you down on her lap as she was earlier, yet this time it makes you huff softly, the rough material of her jeans dragging along your sensitive core.

“Aren’t I lucky…coming home to my pretty girl like this…fuck…you’ve been on my mind all fucking day…” she groaned out, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked down at your naked body, a soft hiss leaving her lips as she let her hand come in between you both, catching your slippery clit against her thumb. She watches your facial expression change, a soft moan leaving your lips as you rest your hands on either one of her shoulders, looking down at her hand toying with you.

“So wet already…stand up for me baby” she hummed out softly as she gave your hip a gentle pat. You listened, standing up from her lap, which allowed her to lay down onto the couch, one of her knees bent up as the other leg laid down. She gestured you over to her.

“Come sit on my face princess” she ordered.

Her words alone made you whine, and you wasted no time straddled her face, either side of your legs shielding her face from the camera.

As soon as you were settled, her tongue was out, inviting you down to take a seat as you rested a bit of your wait onto it, your pussy pressing against the warm muscle. You moan out loudly, back arching as you slowly began rocking your hips back and forth on Ellie’s flattened tongue.

The apartment was soon filled with the sounds of your moans, and Ellie’s tongue lapping away at your soaked cunt. It was times like this that Ellie had to depend on you to carry out the vocals, seeing as her mouth was a bit…occupied.

“F-feels so good…missed you so much today…” you moan out shyly, testing the waters with your voice a bit. Ellie groaned below you, her own hips bucking upwards, grinding into nothing as she gave you a quiet gesture to keep going.

You whined, giving her a slow nod as you kept going.

“You look so pretty…fuck…I love your tongue so much…” you moan out again, which earns another moan from Ellie, sending vibrations onto your sopping cunt. You moan loudly again, one of her hands coming up from around your thigh, to snake up your body and toy with your boobs, massaging the skin, pinching your nipples, her hips still bucking up into nothing with need.

You notice, turning around a bit and catching the way her hips bucked up with need. You whimper softly, reaching a hand behind you to undo her jeans before you push them down her pants, her own clit throbbing against your fingers as you begin rubbing her, watching as her eyes roll back when you begin doing this.

“Feels good? Fuck…you’re so fucking wet…fuuuckk…wanna…wanna cum with you…please” you practically beg, your arm already becoming sore from the uncomfortable position, yet you still paid the upmost attention to her poor needy pussy.

Ellie always prioritized your pleasure, it was time you do the same.

Ellie moaned and groaned against your pussy, her tongue speeding up the closer she got, her pussy grinding into your fingers desperately. You arched your back, eyebrows furrowed as you let your head fall back, the pleasure becoming too much.

You knew she was close, the grip on your thighs was almost deadly, and you were too. It wasn’t long before her hips were sputtering, her arousal soaking your fingers as she came. This alone was enough to make you shriek with pleasure, nearly falling back as your arm nearly gave out from behind you, but Ellie’s strong arms were already on your hips to keep you up, pulling you further up as she lapped at your core, helping you ride out your orgasm.

The thing you hated about filming with Ellie the most? You couldn’t even scream her name when she made you cum.

You breathed hard, your exhausted pussy shying away from Ellie’s tongue as you stared down at her, body back in its upright position, her gorgeous green eyes staring up at yours, cheeks red as she gave your pussy kitty licks.

“You should stay out late more often..” you tease, which earns a soft giggle from both of you.

Ellie gives your pussy one last kiss before she pushes you down her body so you’re straddling her waist, her eyes low and hazy as she stares up at you, gently massaging the skin of your thighs.

You always enjoyed the aftermath with her, the silence that came with it, the come down was almost as good as the sex itself. You were both so fucked out, so utterly satisfied, the warmth that overtook you was almost unbearable. You could stay there forever if you truly wanted to.

But alas, it never lasted long enough.

You felt the familiar tap on your thighs, a silent reminder that Ellie had to indeed get up and stop the camera recording. You roll off of her with wobbly thighs, cuddling into the couch and grabbing a nearby blanket to shield your body from the cold air of your apartment.

You watch with sleepy eyes as Ellie gets up, buttoning up her jeans and turning off the camera before pulling it front the tripod to look back at the footage, making sure it was all recorded correctly.

You hear your moans echoing from the device, which makes you whine softly. You always hated hearing yourself, no matter how hot you and Ellie looked. Ellie chuckles softly, shaking her head as she watched the video for a moment longer before she shut off the camera.

“That improv of yours was pretty damn good…they’re gonna like that” she added, making you giggle softly before giving her a shrug. “I always like playing with your pussy” your words make Ellie groan, and she’s suddenly giving you a look of warning, a smirk playing on her lips to match.

“Don’t play with something you can’t handle sweetheart” she warned you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes, despite the fire you feel from that look alone.

“Please, you wouldn’t know how to fuck me even if you had the chance” you challenge her.

Oh yeah, that was another thing. Ellie still hadn’t properly fucked you yet.

You huffed softly as you tugged yet another top off of your body. You’d tried on nearly every article of clothing you had in your closet, yet it just wasn’t fucking working. It was times like this, that you simply wanted to burn all of your clothes and never leave your house again.

You were currently getting ready for a date, a girl you’d met at the record store had ended up asking you out on a date while you were showing her to the new age rock section that the store carried.

The first thing that went through your mind when the girl asked, wasn’t how pretty she was, or how nice her fingers looked wrapped around the edge of the thin vinyls in her hand.

No, none of that went through your head. The only thing that went through your head when the girl asked you out was Ellie.

And that scared you.

Because it’s Ellie for gods sake. The girl you’ve been living with for almost three years now, the girl who you watched eat dry cereal from the box instead of making herself a proper meal, the girl who you’ve watched genuinely find family guy funny…

The girl who’d been playing your body like a fucking guitar for almost a month now.

You realized, you needed this date.

So you agreed, giving the girl your number and telling her to text you so you guys could set up a date.

The guilt was eating you alive, because while Ellie would be fucking you with a dildo, her lips firmly on yours, you knew in the back of your head you had a girl waiting to see you at the end of the week.

And it was conflicting because did you even have to tell Ellie? Would it be stupid if you did? Would it be wrong if you didn’t? It was still just Ellie, after all. Sure, she’d seen you naked now, and she’d made you cum more times than you could count, and you her, but she was still your friend. She was still your normal roommate, your Ellie. And there was nothing really holding you back from going on dates.

Right?

You chalked up all your guilt by convincing yourself that Ellie was probably talking to other girls too, actively searching for a girlfriend, or even a permanent filming partner while you temporarily filled that spot.

Because while you guys never formally spoke about it, that’s all you were, temporary.

It worked out perfectly, because Ellie had gone out for the night, texting you and telling you she had some stuff to do, errands to run. It gave you the place all to yourself to get ready. You would’ve felt extremely stupid sneaking out of your own apartment to avoid any awkward interactions with Ellie. Even though you weren’t even sure if it would even be awkward.

You ended up settling on a little black dress, a pair of black boots and a leather bomber jacket, an outfit you had long since ran dry with how many times you wore, but you looked good, and you weren’t going to to stray away from that.

You fluffed out your hair after you finished up your makeup, spraying on your favorite perfume before you grabbed your phone, sending record store girl a quick text, letting her know that you’d be leaving your house now to meet her at the bar that you two had agreed on going to for your first date.

You couldn’t ignore the sour taste in your mouth, and the aching feeling in your belly as you looked around your room, making your final rounds before you left. There was something about the entire ordeal that just felt…dirty. The fact that you were sneaking around, hiding something that you felt needed to be hidden…

Leaving Ellie for the night.

All of it made you feel ill, and the fact that you felt that way made you feel even worse.

But regardless of it all, Ellie was out and it was all in your head. Ellie probably wouldn’t even care if you went out with a girl! She’d be happy for you, she’d send you out of the apartment with an encouraging slap on your ass before telling you to wrap it up before you-

Suddenly, you could hear Ellie opening up the door from the other side of your apartment door. You feel like you’ll freeze up and die in that very moment.

She walks into the house humming a tune you can’t quite find, probably some song that had been stuck in her head. She has her helmet tucked under her arm, and a brown paper bag with the logo of your favorite take out spot slung along her long fingers. She doesn’t notice you at first, because she’s too busy cursing under her breath as she tries to get herself inside, a low groan leaving her lips a she tosses her keys into the entrance bowl, kicking the door shut behind her.

“Babe? You home? I brought dinner” she calls out.

You feel sick to your fucking stomach.

Because it feels too domestic, too romantic, too fucking far for you and Ellie for her to be calling out for you that way, to be ordering your favorite dinner and bringing it home for you. You aren’t even entirely sure what prompted her to do this, and you don’t know who you’re more annoyed with, her for doing it, or you for not being honest with her.

You’re too caught up in your thoughts, because you barely realize that Ellie’s eyes are finally on yours, a confused frown as she stares at you up and down, clearly readying yourself to leave the apartment.

“You…look so pretty. Are we going somewhere?” She questions slowly, her sentence slipping into a tone of worry, as if she’d forgotten about something that you planned for the both of you, her big green eyes frantically searching yours.

You can’t fucking do this anymore.

You inhale deeply, shaking your head as you clear your throat, your fingers tugging at the bottom of your dress as you try to find your voice, find your words to break it to Ellie.

“I um….I have a date tonight” you mumble out softly, barely loud enough for Ellie to hear, hoping that she doesn’t and some miracle snatches this ridiculous conversation away so you don’t have to experience it.

But she does hear you.

Her face goes from worried to annoyed almost instantly, her brows knitted together as her lips form a confused frown. “A date? With who?” She spits out, and the tone is too accusing for you. It makes you wince slightly, your lips forming a frown of your own as you let out a soft sigh.

“Girl I met at the record store” you sigh out, and you hate this, because it feels so far from what you and Ellie are. It feels to reminiscent of a jealous girlfriend cornering you, confused as to why you’d ever leave her when she was there waiting for you, why on earth would you pass her up for anyone else when she gives you everything anyways?

The energy you can feel radiating off of Ellie is the same thing you felt when that woman was looking at you on the road. It feels hostile, and possessive, it feels like she has some claim on you that you aren’t even fully aware of, and it’s the reason you decided to go on the date in the first place, because regardless of not fully knowing what it is that’s happened between you and Ellie.

You know it isn’t good.

Ellie moves to drop the food onto the coffee table, a bit too harshly in your opinion. Her strong hand goes up to run through her brown hair, one hand on her hip as she stares at the floor for a moment. You should’ve just taken that as an opportunity to leave, to avoid all of this. But you don’t.

“It’s…it’s Friday night. We’re supposed to film. We film every Friday” she argues.

Fuck.

You chew your maroon tinted bottom lip, feeling like a kid who’s done something bad and is now facing the repercussions of a disappointed parent. You feel small, and stupid, and you can’t believe you forgot about it. There had been such a blur between the schedule you had with Ellie, with far too many moments of making out with her on the couch, or her fingers finding their way into your pants whenever you were watching a movie together, that the intimacy in your brain was becoming confused with the intimacy that was needed for the camera and the camera only.

And in that moment, you realize that this needs to end.

Because maybe you and Ellie can go back to normal, maybe you can forget about this and she can find someone who is better at this stuff than you are. It’s too confusing, and it’s putting you in a bad position of thinking too deep into things while also missing the bigger picture, and you’re fucking exhausted.

You inhale deeply, opening your mouth to speak, to tell her that this isn’t what you want anymore, that this isn’t for you anymore. You have it all mapped out, how you’re going to finally tell her that this simply can’t go on anymore.

But suddenly, your phone goes off.

You frown, looking down at the glowing device in your hands. It’s a text from record store girl, she’s telling you how she just left her house, and how excited she is to see you tonight. This catches Ellie’s attention too.

She looks down at your phone, her angry and annoyed expression still present on her face.

���Is that her?” She asks. You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head as you try pushing your phone in your jacket pocket. “Ellie I…when I get back I really think we should talk about-“ she quickly cuts you off, her voice a bit louder than it was when she first asked.

“I said…is that her?” Her words are slower, clearer, as if she wants you to hear every goddamn syllable that leaves her mouth. You know she isn’t fucking around, and you simply inhale deeply, taking your phone out of your pocket and looking at the message that was still lingering at the bottom of your Lock Screen.

“Yeah…it is….” You admit, ignoring how fucking stupid you feel for telling Ellie this. You should have left, you should have ignored her and gone on your date and had a good time so you could come home and tell her that she needed to find a new filming partner, because you weren’t cut out for this shit anymore.

She begins taking slow strides towards you, the closer she gets, the more you can smell her cologne. It makes you swallow back a whine, because her scent is the single most euphoric thing to you right now. It haunts you in your sleep, and it makes your mouth water whenever she’s on top of you.

Soon, she’s right in front of you, her green eyes staring down at your outfit, taking in everything that you have on, how pretty your hair and makeup is. Her slender fingers come up to tug at your jacket slightly, a soft puff of air exiting her nose before she speaks. “What’d she tell you? That she’s on her way? So excited to see you?” She questions, her voice low and taunting as her nimble fingers dance along your jacket, ghosting along the fabric of your dress.

“Fuckin idiot…she’s on her way to some shitty bar and I’ve got her girl practically shaking for me..” she hummed out softly.

And it was true. Ellie had hardly touched you, yet your fists were balled at your side, body practically begging for her as her skilled fingers barely gave you what you wanted. The second she was in front of you, your brain was clouded with her, with all the things you wanted from her, all the things you knew she could do to you.

“Had so much planned for us tonight, baby…wanted to finally show you off live..wanted to take care of that pretty body of yours…and you were getting all dolled up for some asshole who probably wouldn’t know how to make you cum even if she got the chance” she explains, her voice low, minty breath fanning across your face, making you whine softly.

“You’ve never dress like this for me before…” she groans out, and it makes your eyes widen a bit. Before you can open your mouth and say anything back, her skinny fingers are grabbing your chin and angling your face up to fully look at her, her green eyes staring down into yours as she licked her bottom lip slowly.

“God I can’t stand you sometimes..” she sighed out softly before she pressed her mouth against yours in a needy kiss. Your hands instantly wrap around her neck, keeping her close as her own arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against her body.

It’s as if any and all moral high ground that you had was gone, replaced by only thoughts of Ellie. You let her fill you up, breath life into you as her warm tongue explored your mouth, dominated the kiss and took you on a wild fucking ride that only consisted of a single kiss from her.

Soon, she’s breaking the kiss, and it makes you whine and chase her lips. She chuckles softly, the sound dark and taunting as she stares down at your needy eyes and swollen lips. “Now you’re chasing me…poor thing…” she tuts out, clearly mocking you with a pouty tone.

She slips her hand into your jacket pocket, taking out your phone and looking at the message. She rolls her eyes, pushing the phone in between you two.

“You’re gonna call her, and you’re gonna tell her you aren’t coming” she demands. Your eyes go wide, looking up at Ellie before you quickly shake your head. “What? No! Ellie I can’t! I…can’t I just text her?” Even your own words shock you a bit, because are you seriously staying with Ellie when there was a perfectly willing girl waiting for you at a bar down the street?

If Ellie said so, then yeah. Yeah you were.

Ellie shrugged before she unlocked your phone, having learned your password way back when you two first moved in together. “Fine. I’ll call her” she nodded, her fingers scrolling through your phone to find the girls contact. This makes your eyes go wider, and you quickly snatch your phone from Ellie’s hand, because you know that Ellie will be shameless with it, and it’ll make you look way worse than you already do by flaking so last minute.

“No! No…fine…I’ll do it. Just…please be quiet, Ellie” you plead, giving her a look of warning before you sigh softly, looking down at your phone for a moment before you click the girl contact, set it to call, and put your phone to your ear.

Ellie smiles proudly, pearly teeth gleaming as her hands give your hips a firm squeeze. “That’s my fuckin girl…” she praises. Her words makes your insides flutter, core tightening around nothing as you wait for the girl to answer, a gentle pout on your lips despite the fact that your arms were still wrapped around Ellie, and she still had your body pressed against hers.

After a few rings, she finally answers. Her voice is bright and bubbly and you want to kick yourself for doing this to someone so fucking sweet.

“Hey….look…I’m really sorry but I think I’m going to have to-“ your words are cut off by Ellie’s lips pressing against your neck, wet mouth working against your skin, bitting and sucking, sure to leave marks in the morning. It makes you gasp softly..

Because Ellie never left marks.

It wasn’t something that ever really bothered you. It helped in all honesty, you didn’t really want to be walking around littered in Ellie’s hickies, it would’ve resulted in too many questions from your coworkers and friends, and you really didn’t want to deal with that. It was just an unspoken rule, Ellie didn’t mark you, and you didn’t mark her. That was too far along the lines of being a couple for you.

But clearly, that had all changed tonight.

There was a sense of possessiveness that you could feel when she did it. Teeth and tongue sucking and biting at your soft skin, eager to claim you in any way that she possibly could. Between the feeling of it, and the fact that she was doing it, it made it hard to talk, your eyes rolling back into your head as you bit back a whimper, covering it up with a couch as you tried finding the words in your fuzzy head to speak to the girl.

Ellie smirked against your throat as she listened to you struggle, listened to the muffled words of the confused girl on the other line try to understand what it was you were saying.

You tugged at Ellie’s hair slightly, yet still kept her close as she mouthed your neck. “I…I can’t…look I’m really not feeling well..I…mph…I can’t come out tonight. I’m sorry” you quickly ramble out, knowing you were too close to moaning out Ellie’s name to keep this going on any longer. Before you were able to hear what the girl had to say on the other line, you hang up, turn your phone off and toss it onto the couch.

You moan softly, tilting your head to the side to give Ellie better access to your neck. “I can’t believe you fucking did that…” you moan out as you began shrugging your jacket off, tossing it somewhere in the living room. You felt too hot, too fucking needy, everything was just too much and you struggled to wrap your head around what exactly was even happening.

“Me? I didn’t do anything…you’re the one that cancelled on the poor girl” Ellie teased gently, which earns a swat to her arm from your end.

You sigh softly, tugging her hair back so that she’s pulled away from your neck. You waste no time in crashing your lips against hers, your tongue pushing into her mouth with need as you kiss her feverishly. Ellie groans into the kiss, her hands going down to give your ass a firm squeeze. “Eager are we?” She grunts against your lips.

You huff softly, ignoring her words as you begin pushing her backwards towards her room, your lips never leaving the sloppy kiss. It’s so fucking erotic, and messy, and needy, and there’s so much filling it that you can both clearly feel. You decide to ignore it.

“I decided to stay with you…you better make this worth it” you groan out softly, which only earns a smirk from Ellie as she stares down at you, her heart fluttering at the way you pushed her around, did with her as you pleased.

“I always do, baby” she chuckled softly, and all you want to do is wipe that smug fucking smirk off her beautiful face.

Once you’re in her bedroom, you press your palms against her chest, shoving her back to lay on her bed. She lets out a soft moan, clearly happy with the way that you’re handling her.

You tug your dress up a bit as you move to straddle her, her hands instantly moving to grip your thighs. She lets out a soft hiss, her lust filled eyes eating up the way your dress hugs your curves, pushes up your boobs. For a moment, you see a hint of something flash through her eyes as she watches you, taking in the dress that you wore for a date, wore for someone else.

You don’t ignore it this time, because it’s clearly jealously.

You don’t know whether or not you should say something, or kiss her, or do anything else to get your mind off of it, but you don’t have to. Because as soon as you’re settled down on her lap, you can feel a foreign bulge pressing into your clothed core, and it makes your eyes widen and Ellie smirks and rolls her hips up to grind it into you, and then you realize what the surprise that Ellie had was.

Ellie was finally going to fuck you tonight.

And not with her fingers, or with a sex toy, it would be with her strap. She was going to fuck you, something you’d already assumed wasn’t going to happen between the two of you.

She must have noticed the shocked look on your face, because she chuckles as she continues grinding her cock into you, making you whine softly as you press you hands on her hips to give yourself leverage as you roll your hips to meet her movements.

“Feel that baby? It’s all yours…went out and brought a brand new one just for you…” she explained, revealing what it was that she’d been out doing while you were getting ready for your date.

She was buying new toys to fuck you with, and picking up dinner for after.

You felt like you were dreaming.

All you can do is moan in response, eagerly undoing Ellie’s jeans, wanting nothing more than to feel her fill you up, fucking into you deliciously, giving you what you’d always wanted.

Ellie is quick to grab your wrists, pulling them away from her jeans. “Ahh, not so fast, princess….we’re gonna do this the right way” she hums out softly. You can’t help but pout, a soft huff leaving your lips as you open your mouth to complain, but Ellie is already sitting up, gently pushing you back to lay on her bed properly as she crawls over you.

She hums softly, staring down at your body for a moment, silently taking you in before she pushes your dress up, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as her hands find its spot cupping your clothed pussy.

“Hmm….so wet already…I’m gonna have so much fun taking you, baby…” she groaned against your lips, swallowing up your moans as her slender fingers pressed against your clit, rubbing you slowly, forcing the cotton material of your pantries to go translucent as your arousal soaked them almost entirely.

And your head is spinning as she kisses you, because she’s being so slow, so gentle, treating your body with so much care. And it’s not unlike Ellie to do this, but you just assumed this would have gone differently. You expected her to be rough, fucking into you while telling you how no one could ever fuck her like she does…

But she’s not. She’s so gentle, and soft, and it’s making your heart do dances it’s never done before..

Ellie lets out a soft sigh as she tugs your panties to the side, feeling your velvety folds better now without the fabric constricting her. She rubs you slowly, building you up, getting your sopping little pussy all warmed up for her cock. Soon, her hands leave your core, and she pulls you up to tug your dress off before laying you back down, and tugging off your panties as well, leaving you entirely naked before her.

Ellie hisses softly under her breath as she eyes you, sitting back on her legs as she begins tugging off her own shirt, before she crawls off the bed to tug her jeans off, leaving her completely naked as well, eyes never leaving your body.

“You’re so fucking beautiful…” she mumbles out softly before she crawls back onto you, pressing her naked chest against yours. The feeling makes you moan loudly into her mouth as she kisses you, because you’ve never felt Ellie like this. You’ve never had her body pressed up against yours this way, and it feels like the single most intimate thing you’ve ever felt in your entire life.

Ellie’s hand goes down to her cock, gripping the base before she brings it to your core, running it along your sopping wet folds, against your clit before she slowly feeds you her length, earning a whiny moan from you.

Ellie quickly nods as she kisses you softly, one of her hands giving your waist a squeeze. “I know baby…I know it’s big…you can take me…I know you can” she praises you, and it makes you moan softly into her mouth as she rubs your clit, pushing further into your weeping cunt.

“Ellie…fuck…more…need more” you moan against her, the empty feeling still present as she waits for you to tell her it’s okay to keep going. She groans softly, pushing more of her length into you until she bottoms out completely, her thighs flushed against yours as she waits for you to adjust to her size.

You roll your hips slowly, already feeling yourself leaking around the length, and you give her a nod, staring into her green eyes as your hips buck up into her. “Need you, El…need more of you..” you moan out softly.

And Ellie feels like her head is spinning when you say that.

Her strong hand goes down, gripping your thigh as she slowly fucks into you, moaning as her clit bumps against the back of the strap with her movements.

Her eyes never leaves you, watches as your face contorts in pleasure, moaning loudly for her, arching your back when the tip of her cock rubs against your velvety walls, watching as you fall apart on her length.

Her thrusts are slow, and calculated and she’s staring down at all of you as she fucks into you. You suddenly feel her long fingers wrap around your cheeks, pulling you to look up at her because frankly, you’re having a hard time looking anywhere.

“Eyes on me, baby…need to see you right now…f-fuck…that’s my good fucking girl…taking me so well” she praises, and it makes you moan loudly with her. You grab her wrist, watching as she fucks into you faster, both of you getting closer and closer to what you’ve been needing for who knows how fucking long.

Suddenly, Ellie’s hand leaves your face and instead, grabs your hand, bringing it above your head as she interlocks your fingers. Her gaze is so intense, and the grip on your hand is so tight, you feel tears prickling at the ends of your eyes because whatever the hell is happening is too goddamn intense, it’s taking over you completely, and it’s making it all too much.

“Ellie…Ellie I…I…” you choke out between little moans and whines, your eyes growing glossy as you stare up at her, and Ellie is already nodding despite your lack of words, because she understands, she feels it too, and you don’t even have to say it.

“Come on baby…give it to me…fuck…cum with my angel…please” she’s practically begging, her own moans cutting off her words as she fucks you faster, the grip on your hand almost lethal as she stares down at you, tugging her bottom lip into her mouth.

And you feel it, how could you not? Your orgasm washes over you almost painfully, making you close your eyes shut as your back arches, squeezing Ellie’s hand as you cum hard on her cock. It’s too much, too intimate, too fucking intense, and you feel like you’ll explode just from the feeling of it.

Ellie has no other choice but to smash her lips against yours when she sees it, she can practically feel the way you grip her cock with your pussy and it’s the catalyst that sends her into her own sea of pleasure, euphoria swallowing her up and almost drowning her as she kisses you with everything she’s feeling, pouring it all out into you as her hips slowly fuck into you, riding out both yours and her orgasm.

The come down is hard, because she’s on top of you, and it’s quiet apart from the heavy breathing between you and hear, and her head is resting on her chest…

And all Ellie can think about, is how utterly fucked she is..

Because she’s in love with you

[mondaymelon]

₊⊹ 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐩 ! ♡. | xiao, kaveh, gorou, lyney, wriothesley x gn!reader

⤷ art by @/grimruu on twitter... i added the boops :> .. fluff, established relationship. dw its an actual fic ( just trsut me )

" boop ! "

— 𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎

he's startled, that's something certain. xiao's not used to random actions like this; shouldn't one move with purpose...?

blinking at you, his round eyes are more so filled with surprise than disdain. "what... what did you just-" yet... well, you've just tapped your finger to his nose, and now you're grinning like an idiot... truly, the hearts of mortals were something he'd never quite understand.

"it's fun!" yet again, you move forwards, and while xiao is expecting another "boop" from your finger, he's caught off guard when you give him a small kiss on the nose instead.

"boop."

xiao's voice is uncharacteristically faint, quiet. "ah..."

he hides his face behind a hand, trying to evade his clear embarrassment before it catches your eyes. "you're so... stupid."

... and you'd almost believe it, if it weren't for the evident flush dusted across the tips of his ears.

" boop ! "

— 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇

he's well into his third drink by the time you boop his nose, and it takes him another few seconds and a lethargic blink or two before he even registers the action.

when he does, a silly smile spreads across his face, his already drunkenly flushed cheeks warming further. "booop?" the word slurs together, and a slow finger moves to boop you on your nose as well.

too bad, it misses the mark, and he ends up poking your upper lip, frowning when he does so. "ah, oops... lemme try again..." this time, he manages to find your nose. a smugly proud smile appears on his features thanks to the success.

god, he was so pathetic. you loved him for it.

cupping his cheek, you sneakily lean forward and press a kiss to his nose. his skin is warm to the touch. "boop." before he can strike back, you hit him with a double combo, this time kissing him on the lips.

"whuh.. no fair," his eyebrows furrow as he pouts childishly. "i wan..na... too..."

he falls asleep before he can finish his sentence, slumping onto the table and conking out immediately. as expected. you tuck his messy hair behind his ear with a fond smile. he'd have a hell of a headache in the morning. ah, but... tolerating his whines would be worth it — you'd gotten to kiss him, after all.

... his lips tasted like wine.

" boop ! "

— 𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐔

he jolts like he's been shocked, and you have to suppress a laugh at the sight. "e-eh, what was-?" one of his ears twitches subconsciously, and you can tell he's trying to maintain eye contact to the best of his abilities. hey, it wasn't everyday your lover swung by camp just to tap you on the nose... were you teasing him??

"it's a boop." you state it, matter-of-fact, and gorou only grows more helplessly confused. "boop." just like that, you poke him again. his eyes widen in realization (though he's far off the mark). agh, could it be that more rumors had spread of his "good luck", except this time, instead of rubbing his ears for good fortune, it's tapping his nose instead..?

you watch his eyes swirl with perplexion — really, what was the point in watching those highly-acclaimed entertainment films from fontaine when an entire life's worth of entertainment was right in front of you? "c'mon, don't tell me you've fallen for it too?"

...what was he even talking about? no matter, it was cute seeing him panic (though he'd disagree). you smile at him cheekily, "fallen? why, gorou, the only thing i've fallen for is you ~"

silence.

then the sound of someone choking. gorou upright sputters, his face hopelessly red, before springing forward and getting his revenge; that is, kissing you on the tip of your nose, too embarrassed to keep his eyes open while doing so.

"ugh, you're such a tease..."

... how could you not be, when he was so adorable?

" boop ! "

— 𝐋𝐘𝐍𝐄𝐘

he smiles, his eyes twinkling as they become upturned crescents. "oh? a tap to the nose..." he seems oddly delighted in the action, and perks up not long after, with a strange, mischievous shine in his eyes.

he shuffles through his signature deck of cards with a grin. "love, why don't you pick a card? any card from the deck, whichever one you want~"

you eye him suspiciously.

he has the demeanor of a cunning cat, one that if you turn your gaze away from for a mere second, is sure to cause trouble. well... he was your lover, so you should have some faith in him. drawing a card from the ones he's presented in his hands, you receive the two of hearts.

before you can even properly glance up from your cards, you're met with a faceful of brilliant red roses, each delicate petal perfectly curving in place and green, glistening leaves healthy and lush. lyney's the one behind it all, a smug smile on his lips, and before you can even open your mouth to speak, he leaps forward and swiftly kisses your nose.

"boop."

and he sticks his tongue out, smoothly tucking a rose (without thorns, mind you) into your hair.

hell, he was so smooth. your brain wasn't even able to register half his actions until half a minute after, and when you did, your face burned.

"haha~ what's wrong, love?"

... this guy was seriously dangerous for your heart.

" boop ! "

— 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

he stares you dead in the eyes, in a sort of, "did you really just do that?" kind of way. it's not that he's disappointed, per say, but more so shocked; even siegewinnie wouldn't dare do such a thing like pokingg the duke's nose, (on second thought, maybe she would)... either way, he sits there in a sort of shell-shocked manner, the cup of tea he had begun to lift to his lips long forgotten. "you..."

"boop." you say it like it's all the explanation he needs. in case he doesn't understand, you'll be so generous as to say it a second time, nodding your head for extra confirmation. "boop."

he lets out a lighthearted sigh, one that makes it easy to tell he's on the edge of releasing a chuckle. crossing his arms over his desk and leaning over it, he grabs your chin with his fingers, gently lifting it to raise your gaze to his level.

"boop." this time, he's the one booping you, and he seems all too amused about it, a sly smile on his lips as he does it moves to do it once more. "boop."

hey, was he copying you-? the thought isn't able to completely form before your brain utterly short circuits; the reason? none other than the duke of the fortress of meropide kissing your nose, of course.

wriothesley's enjoying this way too much... yet he seems so utterly unaffected when he pulls away, settling back into his chair and taking a serene sip of his tea, like he hadn't just committed several war crimes against your heart.

... fuck, if it skipped too many beats, would you die??

(a/n) happy boop- i mean april fools dayyy !! mwah mwah watch me pull some "im quitting" shii next year :>

𝐭 𝐚 𝐠 𝐥 𝐢 𝐬 𝐭 : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @ceneid, @avensuersa, @dainsleif-when-playable, @solxima, @sangoqueenkoko, @haliyamori ...

[angelfrombeneth]

MAGICAL DRYING DISASTER - T . NOTT

Mature Content Ahead

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: After waking up late and discovering you left your washing in the machine over night. You had no other choice to use magic to dry it - except it did dry but also shrunk, massively, in the process. Once Theo finds you let's just say he manages to keep it kept in till the common room. Then it's all fair game from there.

Warnings: SMUT, No Protection - PIV, Theodore is a munch - Fem Oral, Body Worship, Smidge of SubWhiney!Theo, Cursing

A/N: This is my first one-shot fic I've posted in a long time but also my first one EVER on tumblr. I used to write on wattpad and ao3 but took a very long hiatus. So excuse if my smut writing is a bit off or any spelling mistakes I currently have acrylics on - its quite hard to type.

Click Clack.. Click Clack...

You ran towards your class quickly, pulling town the absolute belt of a skirt you wore today before entering into your potions class. Late.

"Miss Neveah.. Thank you for finally joining us" Snape panned. His face expressionless as he stared at you. A slight hint of disapproval in his face.

"I'm sorry sir, it won't happen again!" You scurried to your seat beside Pansy.

"It most definitely will not" He groaned before turning back to the chalk board to continue his explanation.

You shimmied on your seat, pulling as much skirt down as you could. Practically flashing those behind you of your bright red thong and gorgeously placed star tramp stamp.

Nice touch is what you thought when you got it a few months ago after a night out in the muggle clubs with Pansy. She persuaded you and said Theo would love it. Or which he did.

"Y/N.. your skirt is practically a belt. Trying to flash us all?" She whispered, giggling as he peered down as your legs, absent of any tights aswell.

"Girl.. It shrunk when I tried to use magic to dry it. All my other skirts are dirty" You pouted. "I also couldn't find a pair of fucking tights, I was running so late"

"Its not that bad, just don't bend over if you can" She smiled as she reached to your ponytail tieing in a little green piece of ribbon into a bow. "And don't let Mr Lover boy see you" She snickered.

You sighed, focusing in the rest of your class. Praying not many people noticed. You were pretty daft thinking that. You were already the hot goss. It was only so long till Theo found out.

Though alot of boys in Hogwarts fancied you, they all knew about Theodore Nott swooping in, in 4th year the year before you 'blossomed' as they said. They say he saw the potential and snatched it up while they could.

You walked down the hall, pulling your books to your chest as your red bottoms clipped the wooden floor that spanned the whole school. Many turned your way gawking as you, mostly more than normal due to tour skirt size today.

You weren't a bad girl. You has good grades, you were overly nice to everyone just the people you hung round with were opposite. Many saying you were too nice.

After a quick detour to pick up an extra book from the library you shuffled down the corridor, your heels clicking their signature click against the oak as you walked towards your friends who stood beside your regular post class meeting pillar.

"Sorry I'm late!" You skipped towards them hurriedly. You watched as Theo whipped his head around, his jaw practically dislodging from his face as he stared at you.

Mattheo wolf whistled as he looked you up and down. Smirking as he pushed himself off the wall - "Damn Y/N, I didn't know you had this hiding somewhere"

"Neither did I" Theo's gaze burned through you as he bent his neck to get look at you from behind. Definitely a sight for sore eyes.

"I'm sorry- I fucked up a spell and I was running late I didn't mean to- OUCH! THEO!" you got cut off as he slapped his hand harshly against your ass before gripping a handful as he smirked down at you. The boys laughing at the pair of you.

"As much as I am thoroughly enjoying the sight Bella" He looked down at you, his gaze growing darker by each word that fell from his lips. He leaned in, practically growling in your ear."I don't like to share amore mio"

You gulped at his words as he pulled his jumper off, wrapping it around your waist. Slightly tugging on the fabric jerking you forward into his chest as he smiled down at you before kissing your forehead softly.

"As cute as you two are, everyone's looking. Can we clear out" Pansy groaned.

You snapped back into reality, quietly ushering an apology to the group as Pansy pulled your hand as you both walked hand in hand ahead of the boys.

You heard a smack and an 'ow' turning around quickly as you turned the corner seeing Theo slapping Mattheo across the head. "Flirt with someone else" He groaned. You giggled slightly at his protectiveness.

Once you arrived to the common room everyone scattered to do their own thing. Theo once more approaching you.

"Now..." a cheeky smile appeared on his lips as his hands held your hips softly as he peered down at you. The height difference really getting to you. "I can't stop thinking about that little skirt on you.." His hands slowly moving down and around to the curve of your ass as he nibbled at his lip. "..and how much I want to fuck you in it" He whispered the last part lowly as his tongue poked out and slid across his bottom lip as he squeezed your ass through his jumper.

"Then do it" You caught his gaze, already out of breath from his minimal touch.

It's like that's all he needed to hear. Like without warning and no regards for the fact your friends were just a few steps away bundled in the corner on the coaches - he pulled you tightly, hand on your ass against him as his lips crushed into yours. Needy kisses as if he hasn't kissed you in months.

The sudden rip of his jumper loosening the knot as it dropped to the floor. His hands sliding under the little fabric the skirt had as his nails gripped into the flesh on your ass cheeks. You yelped slightly and he took that as permission to shove his whole tongue down your throat. The kisses grew messier and messier as you both backed up towards the stairs, bumping into everything possible as you both chuckled.

Breaking the kiss as you both removed various pieces of clothing as you scrambled up the stairs. By the time you got to yours and Pansys' room you both had disregarded of practically everything. Theo quickly finishing unzipping his trousers before pushing you into the room, kicking the leg off quickly, flinging his trousers into the centre of the hallway as he shut the door behind him.

You stood infront of him in just your skirt, bra and panties as he ruffled his hair, staring at you like a kid in a candy shop, pondering what you try next.

"DONT WORRY WE'LL CLEAN UP AFTER YOU TWO!" Draco yelled, annoyance plastered in his voice.

That broke Theo out of the trance he was in as he lunged at you, unclipping your bra swiftly as he threw it across the room before pushing you against the bed.

"Fuck, I'm so hard. I can't- I just need to fuck you now" He groaned, biting at his lip anxiously as he stared down at you. "Get on all fours". You obliged and quickly.

You felt the sudden cold breeze against your clit as he tightly yanked on your thong, splitting it apart at he threw it on the floor aswell as he kicked off his boxers.

"Fuck your so hot" He groaned, dropping to his knees as he gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks wide as he licked a nice wet strip up your pussy.

A moan lodged itself in your neck as you bundled up the sheets in your hands as he let out a shaky breath.

"Wanna eat you out so bad, but my cock is throbbing.. Need to treat you well tho" He whined as he spat into his hand as he began to fuck it. His free hand gripping your ass as he dove his tounge deep into you.

You hung your head forward as you let out an exasperated sigh as your toes curled. Theo's tongue worked wonders inside of you. He ate you out like it was dire need. The roughness of his mouth sopping against your pussy as his tongue drilled into your hole. The wetness of both his mouth and your pussy mixing as he moaned against you as he continued to fuck the shit out of his hand. Loud moans rumbled against you as he sucked and twirled like no tomorrow.

You were drawing to your high as you noticed he stopped, pulling away for a moment as he let out a deep growl before a light whimper escaped his lips as he came up the bottom of your bed frame and on the floor. He panted for a moment, light whimpers leaving gis mouth as he toyed with his sensitive dick.

"Fuck- Sorry Principessa. I came, naughty of me to do so before I helped you. I'll make sure you feel extra good" His other hand colliding with your ass again as he dove back in. His nose rubbing harshly against your slit as he flicked his tongue continously against your clit. Sucking and nibbling at it from time to time as he continued to grip and massage at your ass.

The sudden overwhelming feeling drove you over the age as you screeched, yelping as you squirted all over his face. You gasped loudly, crashing to the bed as your legs shook slightly as you panted.

"Mhmm.. Love it when you squirt" You looked at Theo as he wiped the cum from his face, sucking his fingers like a dessert he's got to finish.

"You're so gorgeous, so fucking beautiful.. Beautiful body" He groaned as he slid his hands up your curves, moaning softly as the scene infront of him. "S'lucky.. So fucking lucky.."

He tapped your thigh, as you led on your stomach on the bed, your legs hanging off the end slightly as your tippy toes held against the floor.

"Gunna make you feel so good, amore" he cooed as he lied up his tip with your slit before thrashing it in harshly. You yelped once again at you looked back at him.

"Going to teach you not. to wear. a slut. short. skirt. again. fuck!" He growled with each thrust as your body jerked against his movements. Your body slid up and down the bed as your feet struggled to stay on the floor much longer as he pushed you up the bed.

It wasn't before long till Theo climbed ontop of you, straddling you as he drilled into you. Loud whimpers left you as you clawed at the sheets as you screamed into his duvet.

"FUCK!! ARGH- TEDDY!" you pleaded as your back arched, shoving your ass harder into him as his hands gripped your hips tightly, his nails scatting cresent moons to your flesh as your bodies recoiled against one another.

"Yes! Like that.. fuckkk Teddy more..  please!" You babbled. He reached over grabbing your neck as he pulled your body up against his chest. Your legs trapped between his as he squeezed them shut. His arm tightly against your stomach as he continued to drill up into your pussy. You gasped and whined continously as he groaned and growled into your ear. His grip growing tighter around your neck as he flexed his biceps, his tongue sliding up your jawline to your ear.

"Teddy- I'm gunna cum! Please please please PLEASE! Cum with me!" you whined as your eyes rolled back. The growing feeling in your stomach as his cock continued to thrash into you. You were drunk on the feeling of him buried into you. You tightly shut your thighs together for any ounce more of pressure you could grasp.

"Good girl- M'close" He panted.

Your eyes began to roll back as you gasped for air at the tightening of his arm around your neck. The bursting feeling in your stomach as your whole body recoiled and shook as you screamed like bloody murder with all the air you has left in your lungs as you came.

At that moment Theo threw you down, as your body twitched conthously. He gripped your ass as he thrusted deep before cumming in you. Groaning deeply as he threw his head back. Sweat trickling down his forehead and chest as he panted heavily.

Neither of you moved for a moment to compose yourself. You occasionally twitched at your body recoiled against his dick.

"Fuck me.. So good" Theo pulled out, sighing as he watched cum pool at your slit and began to slide down. You felt his tip against you again as he collected the escaping cum and slightly fucked it back into you. His dick entering you once more as you gasped at the feeling.

"Good girl.. such a good girl.." His light thrusts as he peppered you with kisses all over your back and shoulders.

He gasped slightly as he froze above you. You were about to question him till you felt a slightly release.

"Did you just cum again Teddy?" You giggled as he thrusted once more before pulling out and collapsing next to you.

"Its hard to last with you. You make me so addicted" He smirked, his head turned to look at you. He rested his hand on your ass, squeezing it lightly from time to time.

"I'm glad this skirt shrunk" He chuckled, his smile wide.

You shook your head as you laughed at him. "You're a fool" You shimmied towards him, flicking your leg over his chest as you cuddled into him. His body warm.

He kissed your shoulder softly before softly kissing your cheek, nibbling at your ear before whispering;

"Ti amo amore mio".

If you enjoyed this fic and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here!

[superbat-love]

Bruce savored his coffee, relishing the peace after a challenging night tackling increased crime spillover from Metropolis. It was a rare moment alone, away from the daily hustle and bustle of dealing with the kids.

“We’re back!” A loud, cheerful voice shattered the peace from the hallway. Bruce sighed, realizing his envisioned peaceful afternoon was short-lived. Nine little kids bounded through the front door. Wait…nine kids? Bruce did another quick headcount and confirmed that, no, it wasn’t a stress-induced hallucination—there was an additional kid who wasn’t there that morning when the group left for the fair.

As the kids walked past him towards the stairs, Bruce pulled off their caps and scanned their faces one by one to make sure. Dick, Jason, Barbara, Steph, Tim, Cass, Duke, Damian… Finally, he came across an unfamiliar face. The boy stared up at him. “Dad?” The kid launched himself towards him and hugged his thighs. “You’re back!”

Bruce gently extracted the kid from his legs and bent down to take a closer look at him. The boy’s forehead creased, his lips pouting and seemingly on the verge of tears. “You’re not my dad.”

“I don’t think so, kid,” said Bruce. “What’s your name?”

“This is Jon,” said Damian, locking arms with the boy.

“Jon,” Bruce repeated blankly.

“Jon recently lost his dad. We told him that’s okay, not everyone has parents, so he can come and live with us!” Dick said.

Bruce could feel an impending headache coming on. “Dick, you can’t just-” Bruce wanted to refute Dick’s words, but his brain was doing somersaults at the moment, so he gave up. “I’m sorry to hear that,” Bruce said instead to Jon. “How did you lose him?”

“My dad got hit by a green rock by a robot and fell off the mountain. I flew over it a few times, but I couldn’t find him! So I went to the fair to see if he was there,” said Jon.

Flew over the mountain? Green rock? There was only one person that Bruce could think of who could fly and had a weakness towards green rocks. “Is your dad Superman?” said Bruce, knowing and dreading the answer.

“Yeah!” Great, the one superhero whom Bruce had managed to avoid dealing with so far, who had suddenly gone missing since Sunday and was apparently passed out somewhere at the foot of a mountain. And whose kid his own children had kidnapped. Bruce’s day just kept getting better and better.

Superbat Family Fics

[minnesota-fats]

A fic-lit about Danny working at the watchtower, not as a superhero but as an engineer.

This is based on an prompt I read months ago but cant find where Danny put that he was a halfa on his resume but the hiring manager didn’t pay attention to it and hired him anyway. Rather than that its just Danny working at the watchtower and vibing on break when a tiny Robin finds him in the viewing deck.

—

Danny had been working for the justice league watchtower for a couple of months. He has seen hero’s come and go, paying him no mind and he was absolutely living for it! Unlike at 14, he was just a simple, normal worker—despite being half dead and the next in line for the crown in the infinite realms—he is just a simple mechanical engineer, Danny Nightingale. No one to fight, no one to save, just a big space station that needed someone to help keep it up in space.

And that's another bonus to this job; Space!

He gets to spend his shift up in the stars, looking out at the cold expanse of their solar system. Admiring the earth from a whole new angle, and he is getting paid to do it! Sure he could go into space any time, but being able to spend a good portion of his time here really made his core sing in joy. When he was on break he would wander around the areas he had clearance to go into, looking out every window at every star. Cataloging the ships movement through space with sharp eyes. His favorite place to go is the viewing deck, it was exactly what it sounded like, a place to just go and view that space outside.

It was there that Danny decided to take his break today, the Watchtower was at just the right angle to be able to see the earth from the viewing deck. Danny smiled watching the planet he lived on from afar, this really was the best job he could have ended up with!

A few months back he was having a hard time finding work after college, sure he had all the proper qualifications for the positions he applied for. But due to his medical condition—being half dead with a slow almost nonexistent heartbeat—they all refused him, afraid that his heart wouldn't keep up if he left the atmosphere to board any of the space stations orbiting the earth. To be fair it wouldn't have, he tested it by flying up to the moon and back the old fashioned way. But he couldn't just tell them that; being an ecto entity was still a crime that he was just barely able to get away from at age eighteen.

He came out to his parents once he graduated high school, they reacted poorly. Danny’s mom saw red and tried to kill him the rest of the way, claiming that Danny was just a ghost “piloting” his corpse around. Danny’s dad just stayed silent and watched, but before maddie could really do anything he acted. Jack knocked Maddie out with a strong blow to the back of her head. Danny remembered the hope that he had when Jack did that, but after he looked up at the man that hope died in his chest. The man looked torn, both angry and sad and in a voice lacking any of the familiar warmth said, “leave before she wakes up.” And he turned to pick up Maddie and made his way up the stairs. It was because of his dad that he was able to get away because after that Danny Fenton was declared dead. With the help of Sam and Tucker he was able to make a new identity for himself and go to school. From that day on Danny decided to move on and never look back.

After putting his name out there time and time again he was rejected. It wasn't until he got a letter in the mail saying he had been scheduled for an interview at Wayne tech of all places. He didn’t remember applying there but decided to go anyway, needing some sort of job to get him through. But when he got there he was greeted by Lucius Fox and Batman of all people! Danny nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the dark knight, Danny couldn't help but think the worst. But before he could bolt, Lucius explained that Batman was looking for workers with the help of Wayne Industries for the base of operations for the Justice League—The Watchtower. Turns out all his applications to several different space programs caught the man’s attention. He even explained that Danny wouldn't even need to have a physical or get on a spaceship because The Watchtower utilized teleportation technology. Danny was so excited that he agreed on the spot without even knowing the benefits he would get from working with them. Which—surprising to no one—were a lot of benefits.

Danny was drawn from his thoughts when he heard the soft, almost nearly nonexistent footsteps coming from behind him. Danny turned and saw a child—no older than twelve—wearing a hero’s costume that looked like he was mimicking a traffic light. The kid froze in his tracks when Danny turned to face him, the two staring at each other for a few moments before the kid smiled and waved at him.

“Hi,” the kid beamed at Danny, “I’m D—Robin!”

Danny lifted a brow, “you a part of the justice league?” He asked, not remembering a kid being a part of their team.

The kid shook his head, “No, my guardian is though!” He explained.

“Ah, neat,” Danny said nonshalontly as he turned back to look at the window, “you come to see the view?” He asked.

The kid walked farther into the room and gasped when he got a better look at said view. “Woah—”, he exclaimed, now standing next to Danny.

Danny looked beside him to see the stars reflecting off of the kids' eyes, “cool isn't it? I come here on my lunch breaks," Danny says.

The kid looked at him and then squinted suspiciously, “if you're at lunch where is your food?” He asked.

Danny smiled, “I forgot my lunch at home today,” Danny lied, seeing the stars gave him enough energy to continue going. He usually eats when he gets home.

“Really?” The kid asked with a raised brow.

Danny smiled and looked around to see if anyone else was there, when he saw no one he asked, “do you wanna hear a secret?” He asked. Robin looked around himself as well before he leaned down a bit so Danny could whisper into his ear, “I actually just absorb the energy from the stars to sustain myself.” He explained.

“Really?” Robin asked, looking at him again, trying to gauge if Danny was lying or not.

Danny smiled, “yep,” he said, popping the p, “that's why I got a job here, that way I won’t starve to death.” Danny grins.

“But cant you just look at the stars from earth?” Robin asked, tilting his head.

“I mean, sure,” Danny says with a shrug, looking back out the window, “but this is so much better, isn't it?”

Robin looked out the window, “yeah!” The boy exclaimed, “it's so much clearer up here than in Gotham.” He commented.

Danny smiled and looked back at the boy, “I live in Gotham, too.”

“Really?” Robin asked, “No wonder you come up here,” the boy commented, causing Danny to snort in laughter and it wasn't long before Robin joined him.

“You got that right,” Danny says with a smirk before something dawns on him, “Wait, hero from gotham? I didn't know Batman had a kid?” Robin looked away, Danny could feel his nerves and sadness pass through him.

Danny was about to tell him that he didn't have to talk about it but before he could get his words out Robin spoke up, “My parents died about a year ago… he took me in only recently, he decided to train me when I found out he was Batman,” the kid says looking down at his feet, a glare etched on his face, “i never got to avenge my parents, the murderer had a heart attack before I could even get to him….”

Danny reached out to the kid and placed his hand on Robin’s shoulder, Robin looked up at him—as if remembering that Danny was there with him.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Danny says softly, Robin looks away from him. “But I can tell you wholeheartedly, your parents are proud of you and what you are doing,” robin began rubbing at his mask, preventing him from wiping the tears away from his eyes underneath. “Here,” Danny says as he goes to pick up the 12 year old, “let's get you back to the Big Black Bat, I bet he is looking for you.”

Danny sits Robin on his hip and walks out of the room, rubbing circles into the child’s back. They walk together in silence, Robin resting his head in the crook of Danny's neck. “…Thank you,” Robin mumbles.

“Don't mention it kid,” Danny says as he looks around the corridor trying to spot anyone who could help him get this kid to the upper levels, “I know what it's like to lose your parents….”

“Really?” Robin asked, his head lifting off of Danny’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Danny says, “they didn't die, but they basically said they never wanted to see me again.”

Robin gasped, “that's not nice!” Robin declared making Danny laugh again.

“Your right,” Danny agrees as he turns down another hall towards where the zeta tubes were, maybe someone in there could help. “But, now I'm here, having the time of my life with the job of my dreams.”

Robin smiled again, “you could say you're living the HIGH life.”

Danny paused in the hall and started snickering, “that was a good one, Birdy.”

“Birdy?” Robin asked.

“Yeah, your name is Robin, that's a bird, so Birdy,” Danny explained, “its a nickname

“Does that make us friends?” Robin asked.

“Sure, as long as your guardian is ok with it.”

The boy smiled happily, excited at the idea of having made a new friend. The calm was interrupted but Danny’s supervisor yelled from across the room, “Nightingale!” He shouts, causing Danny to jump.

Danny turns to look at the man, “hey boss—” he starts, blocking Robin from the man, not wanting to scare the kid.

“You are late to clock back in! You're not getting paid to sit around with your head in the clouds!” The man shouts.

“Sorry sir, I was—”

“No! You need to get back to work, NOW!” He demanded, “this is a multibillion dollar space station, everything needs to be on a strict schedule!”

Danny sighed, his supervisor hasn't liked Danny from day one. Something about him being “young and nïeve” or something like that; “head higher up into space than we were right now.” At least that's what Danny heard him say about him once or twice.

Danny was about to talk back when something just past his manager caught his eye. It was Batman, walking fast with a look that told everyone to get out of the way. But Danny could feel the worry bleed off the man in waves. Must be looking for Robin, Danny’s mind supplied. Danny sidesteps his supervisor and shouts, “Hey Batman!” To catch the dark knight’s attention. Danny had to restrain his laughter when he saw the look of horror pass on his supervisor's face.

Now with the vigilanties cold glare focused on him, Danny smiled and adjusted his stance to show Robbin to him. “Looking for you kid?” Danny asked.

Robin smiled nervously and waved at Batman, guess he wasn’t supposed to wander off like he did. “Hey B!” He shouts.

Batman’s glare softens so slightly, a regular person would have missed it. However, Danny could feel the man’s previous anxieties melt away into a strong relief. Batman strutted forward and glared down at Danny—despite Danny being taller than him. Danny just smiled and adjusted Robin on him so he could hand him over to the dark knight.

Now in Batman’s arms, Robin tapped his pointer fingers together nervously. “Sorry for wandering off,” he mumbled before his smile came back full force, “but,” he exclaimed, “I made a friend! His name is Danny and he liked my puns! And we both have bird names!” He exclaimed all while pointing at Danny.

Batman looked from the kid in his arms to Danny, “hmm,” he grumbled. A man of few words, Batman nods at Danny.

Danny nodded back, “He’s a good kid, glad I was able to help.” Danny replied. Feeling gratitude from that small gesture alone. Batman isn't the most expressive but being able to read emotions like Danny really helps when talking to people.

Batman turns his head to look over at Danny’s superior, “hmm.” After that Batman turned and walked away.

Robin climbed to sit up on Batman’s shoulder and waved back at Danny, “Bye bird buddy! Have a good day!” He shouts as Batman enters the elevator. The doors closing behind them and leaving the zeta tube control center in near silence.

Danny looked back to his supervisor who looked as pale as a sheet ghost, Danny gave him a shit eating grin and shrugged at him. “I tried to tell ya—”

“Get back to work Nightingale!” He shouts.

“Ok, ok, I'm going.” Danny says, turning on his heels and walking away from the man with his hands held up in surrender.

—

I have so many ideas for this au and if I write more I might post it on my AO3 feel free to read other things I posted on there!

[skzstannie]

"Did you know?"

SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member! reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort wc: ~4,500 cw: slight violence, swearing, reader has to go to the hospital

summary: some online rumors cause turmoil within the group, and it seems the members’ concerns were certainly not without reason

A/N: Here's another angsty 9th member fic for you guys, hope you enjoy! My requests are still open, so if you have any ideas, feel free to send them in!

Likes/reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Part 2 | Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

Today was the first date of your North American tour, landing you guys in the beautiful city of Los Angeles, California. Your managers allowed you the morning to explore the city, given you had constant security. They made you specifically promise to abide by these rules, as you had a habit of sneaking off to see fans on your own. What can you say? Security could be annoying, and your fans were always the sweetest.

This little habit of yours not only made management anxious, but also your members. They knew you could be innocent and credulous when it came to other people, always wanting to believe there was good in everyone. While this may be true, people's best intentions sometimes went out the window when confronted with their favorite Kpop idols.

"Ok, first the art museum for Hyunjin, then Griffith Park, and then the nice breakfast cafe down the street from the venue. Anything else?" Chan reads off your planned itinerary, glancing upwards at you guys.

"Yea, I said I wanted to go to the Santa Monica Pier. They have the cutest attractions there," you say, repeating yourself for what felt like the hundredth time that day. You were the only one wanting to go, all the other members not wanting to risk getting sick on fair food and carnival rides before the concert.

"Yes, and I already acknowledged the fact that we will not be going there today. And we, includes you, meaning you will also not be sneaking off to go by yourself," Chan pointedly looks to you, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

"What makes you think I'd ever do that?" you give him a cheeky smile, tilting your head ever so slightly.

"Don't look at me like that. You know exactly why I'd think that."

You drop your innocent act, giving him a bored look in return.

Chan gets notified that the vans have arrived, so you all pack up your things and head to the hotel elevator. The boys roughhouse in the hallway, Seungmin almost tackling Jeongin to the ground. This is quickly stopped by Minho, reminding them they can't get hurt before the concert tonight. They roll their eyes at him but oblige.

Leaving the hotel, you all jump in the cars, embarking on the short drive to the art museum. Your van consists of Seungmin and Felix sitting in the middle set of seats, while you're squished in the back between Chan and Minho. The air is weirdly tense and quiet, everyone seemingly too occupied with their phones. Besides Chan describing the itinerary this morning, everyone has been quiet all day.

You feel Chan's watchful gaze slide to your screen, and you pull away, leaning towards Minho. "Do you mind?" you sass.

"I do actually. What are you looking at on there, any cute boys?"

"Give me a break, we have a dating ban," you scoff, turning your phone back off and sliding it into your crossbody bag.

You continue to sit in silence until you arrive, not wanting to deal with Chan's wandering eyes on your Instagram feed.

Finally arriving at the art museum, everyone piles out of the vans. Fans line the sidewalk, and a grin spreads across your face. You step out of line quickly, wanting to go over to a particularly young fan. She looks around 8 or 9, and she has a poster of you in hand with a black Sharpie. What's the harm in giving this young girl a quick signature?

Within your first few steps, your arm is aggressively pulled backwards, and you stumble into Minho. He gives you a stern look, and you know, especially with this many people around, not to question him. You fall back in line, looking back to give the young girl a sympathetic smile as you're guided the rest of the way into the museum.

You guys walk through the entrance of the museum, officially out of sight from all the fans. Minho gives you another pointed look, finally releasing your arm from his grasp. "We told you, no funny business today. Tonight's important, and we need you in one piece for it."

Your eyes widen at his tone of voice, not appreciating the seriousness behind it. You know you tend to break some rules here and there, but it's always light-hearted. You'd never intentionally put yourself or anyone else in danger.

You guys explore the museum exhibits in peace, security doing an excellent job of keeping the fans outside. You, not having much of an interest in art, spend most of your time watching Hyunjin and the way he admires the artwork. He really is an artist at heart, and you love the way he can appreciate each individual piece.

While staring at Hyunjin, who's admiring an intensely beautiful painting of a riverbed with flowers, you suddenly feel eyes on you. You quickly spin around to be met with the stares of Felix, Jisung, and Jeongin. They quickly look away, busying themselves looking at the statues next to them.

You give them a squinted look, walking over to them. "What is wrong with you guys today? Why is everyone acting so funny?" you confront them, furrowing your brows.

Jisung stumbles over his words, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Felix jumps in, giving Jisung a strange look, "We were just talking about how beautiful you look today." He comes over to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

You don't stay there long, removing his arm from around you and walking away. "Weird," you mutter to yourself.

You guys finish up in the museum shortly after. Piling back into the cars, you're once again stuck between Minho and Chan. This time, however, Chan keeps constant conversation with you. He rambles on about the concert that night, what he had for dinner last night, practically anything to keep his mouth moving. While this is still strange behavior, you prefer this to radio silence.

Arriving at Griffith Park, you guys make your way up the hill terrain. All the guys want to take pictures, planning to post them to Instagram later that week. You think the perfect spot for pictures would be the Hollywood sign, so you start to make your way towards it.

You don't think to alert anyone, as it's within eyesight, and you prefer to take your own pictures, anyway. You came prepared, bringing your tripod in your backpack.

Before you make it very far, only walking about 25 feet away from the group, you hear your name being yelled. You turn back around, seeing an angry Minho storming towards you.

"What'd we say about going off on your own? Why are you being so difficult today?" he asks, his voice rising with every word he spits at you.

You don't know what's gotten everyone's panties in a bunch today, but you've just about had enough. The atmosphere has been tense all day, and you're officially sick of it.

"Why is everyone being so tense today? Gosh, I'm only going up to the sign!" You throw your arm behind, motioning to the spot only about 50 feet away from where you and Minho stand.

"No, you will not be going up there, especially not by yourself. Stay with the rest of the group and stop being stubborn!" Minho's overly-critical eyes stare you down. He steps toward you, grabbing you by the elbow for the second time that day.

You wretch yourself away from him. "I've had enough with being man-handled today. I'm done! I'm going to wait in the van. Have fun without me!" you yell at him, stalking off towards the parking lot.

You see everyone had stopped what they were doing upon hearing the loud yells, and they're all watching you as you hurriedly make your way back to the vans. Your face flushes, embarrassment taking over your features.

You pull on the door to the van, realizing it's locked. You stomp your foot and whip around, finding everyone still staring at you with varying expressions. "Someone please unlock this door before I have a mental breakdown," you beg, feeling the beginnings of an anxiety attack taking over your body.

The driver, just feet away sitting on a bench, searches for the keys in his jacket, finally unlocking the door for you. You climb in, slamming the door behind you.

You stumble over the front row of seats, laying down in the back away from the concerned gazes of your members and the rest of the staff. Your chest feels constricted, the air in your lungs feeling limited in supply. Tears stream down your face at the unwanted advances of an anxiety attack.

The fight with Minho paired with the building tension all day, along with the nerves for tonight's concert mixed into a deadly concoction in your brain, all too much for you to handle.

You're not left alone with your thoughts for long, the door to the van opening only minutes later. Hyunjin crawls in, shutting the door behind him.

"Hey, hey, shhh. It's ok, everything will be ok," he coos, rubbing your back. He's squeezed himself down in between the middle row of seats, his elbows resting on the armrests beside him.

"I'm sick of today," tears slide down you cheeks, your voice audibly shaking. "Everyone is being so distant and mean. What'd I do?"

"No honey, you didn't do anything. Everyone's just a little stressed for tonight. There's been some stuff circulating around online putting everyone on edge, but it'll all be fine," he reassures you, trying to roll you onto your other side so he can see your face. Your mind is too pre-occupied to register his words, letting them travel in one ear and out the other.

You allow him to turn you around, uncomfortably shifting in the small space. Your glossy eyes meet his, and he's quick to wrap you up into a tight hug, your own arms squished against his chest.

"Everyone's finishing up out there, then we're going to head to the venue a little earlier than planned. Does that sound ok?" he asks, affectionately running his fingers through your hair.

"Yea," you sniffle, pressing your face firmly into his shoulder. "I don't want to sit by Minho. Please don't make me," you cry harder at the thought.

"Alright, alright, shhh. You're only working yourself up more. You know we have to stay in our assigned vehicles, but I'm sure Seungmin and Felix will switch spots with him and Chan."

After a few more minutes of consoling from Hyunjin, everyone else has finished their photoshoots. Hyunjin leaves, but not before giving you another firm squeeze. Seungmin and Felix pile into the van first, both of them coming to sit beside you. You telepathically thank Hyunjin for asking them in passing.

Felix rests a comforting hand on your knee throughout the ride to the venue. Chan and Minho are silent, completely engrossed in their phones once again.

Once at the venue, you stay far from Minho, not wanting to deal with his negativity. You notice the security is amped up a bit compared to last tour, guards standing at every door leading to your dressing rooms. You figure it's because your band has gotten so much bigger, the Stay Family always growing exponentially.

In your dressing room, Felix occupies the chair by the mirror, your stylists brushing shades of brown and pink across his eyelids. Changbin stands nearby, the hair stylist just finishing up with a couple extra spurts of hairspray. You lay on the couch while you wait, playing Among Us with Jeongin and Hyunjin who reside in the other dressing room.

Changbin and Felix offered to go with you to your dressing room, and you gladly accepted their offer. You explained to them you didn't necessarily want to be alone; you just didn't want to be by Minho.

The stylists start to work on you once they're done with the boys. They finish your hair and makeup just in time for soundcheck, applying some last minute powder to your nose before sending you off to the stage.

Rehearsals go by smoothly. You and Minho are able to put your issues behind you for now. Your fans are so important to you, and the last thing you want to do is ruin their night because of some petty argument.

Management sends you off to the dressing rooms once again, satisfied with the quality of the soundcheck. You follow your members off stage before departing down a separate hallway in search of the bathroom.

You walk for another few seconds, taking a few random turns before your met with the door to the ladies' restroom. You do your business and take your time getting back to the dressing room as you guys don't go on for another hour. The venue your playing is beautiful, so you take a slight detour, admiring all the nice architecture.

You're startled from your peaceful thoughts once again by a furious Minho. "I cannot believe you'd go off on your own again. After all we've told you today, how could you possibly think that's ok?" he throws his hands up in disbelief, his tone snarky.

"I had to use the restroom! You guys have never had a problem with me walking around the venues by myself, why now? You have been up my ass all day. Leave me the hell alone for awhile." You push him out of the way, ramming his shoulder with your own in the tight hallway.

"Do you think this is fun for me, huh? Yelling at you all day long? Did you ever stop to think for one second that there may be something bigger going on here?" His voice sounds exhausted, leaving you slightly concerned because you still have hours of performing to do. However, your anger gets the best of you, and your concern gets pushed deep below the surface.

"Well, I'm sorry that I can't read your damn mind. If there's something bigger going on, then why hasn't anyone told me? I'm a big girl, not some toddler. I am a part of this group the same as everyone else, so why are things being kept from me?"

Minho starts to speak, but you immediately cut him off, not wanting to hear the lame excuses you're sure he's come up with. "You know what, I don't even wanna hear it. My mental health has went to shit today because of you, and if I wanna be able to perform in 30 minutes, I need to be away from you. We can talk about this later," you finish, rushing off to your dressing room, leaving Minho standing alone in the hallway.

Everyone seems to have deemed your dressing room the hangout spot until the concert officially begins, as all the other boys have gathered around, making themselves comfortable amongst the laid out furniture in the room.

You all make conversation, laughing at Changbin's cringey jokes; you're happy for the distraction, allowing your mind to wander from the fight you had with Minho.

10 minutes before you go on, management comes to fetch you to get ready, providing you all with in-ears and microphones.

Your pre-performance jitters have made themselves known, but you've been doing this long enough that you can turn that nervous energy into excitement.

5 minutes before you go on, you and the boys gather in a circle. Chan leads, knowing exactly how to get everyone hype before going on.

You're all standing now just outside of view from the fans on the side of the stage, waiting for your cue from management. Once they give it, you all make your way out onto the stage, relishing in the sounds of the screaming Stay that form the crowd.

All is going smoothly as you finish your center part during the bridge of Lalala, and you make your way to the side of the stage, waiting for the part in the song where you re-enter the choreo. With all your attenton focused on the performance, you fail to notice the commotion coming from the crowd just a few feet from you.

Your attention is pulled away from the performance when you're tackled from behind. You scream in agony and fear, having landed painfully on your wrist. If the snap you felt is anything to go by, it's definitely broken. However, this isn't your main concern at the moment. You open your eyes, and they’re immediately drawn to the shiny pocket knife the man has in his hand. He's quick to slash a small cut into your forearm before he is aggressively pushed off of you. Your attacker is taken down by security; they immediately throw a pair of handcuffs on him, taking him off stage.

The crowd has broke out into panicked cries, all of Stay wondering what happened and if you're ok.

Your members are quick to rush over to you, abandoning the remainder of the Lalala choreo. While it's felt like an eternity since you were tackled, it really only took security a few seconds to get the situation under control, and only a few more seconds for your members to surround you.

"What hurts?" Chan panics, crouching down beside you.

"My wrist," you sob, totally overwhelmed from all the commotion. The crowd is still roaring and your wrist throbbing like crazy. The cut on your arm is no comparison to the pain radiating from your wrist.

"Alright, let's move her off stage," a paramedic pushes through the barricade your members have formed around you and helps you stand to your feet. You quickly move off stage, wanting to get out of the crowd's view as soon as possible.

Once off to the side, one paramedic inspects your wrist, gently grasping your forearm to hold you steady, while another wraps the cut on your other arm.

"It definitely looks broken. We should get you to the hospital to get it X-rayed and possibly casted," he explains.

Minho steps up next to you, your earlier arguments swept from your mind. "I'll go with her. You guys finish up here. Probably should cut the setlist short anyway; we're already behind schedule."

You follow behind the paramedics, them leading you outside to the ambulance. Minho walks beside you, providing you familiarity in this uncomfortable situation.

The ride to the hospital is silent except for the beeping of the machines the paramedics have you connected to. Minho holds your unbroken hand the whole ride, your disagreements on the backburner for the moment.

The more time that passes, the sorer your body becomes. Your arms feel heavy, and your back feels like it was beaten with a hammer. You realize you've probably been in shock this whole time, and the attacker did more damage than you originally thought.

You finally find yourself in a hospital room, Minho pulling the chair up beside you.

"Well," the doctor says, pulling your X-ray up onto the screen, "This cut doesn't require stitches, just keep it bandaged and medicated. We'll give you a Tetanus shot for it, though, since it was done with a knife. As for your wrist, it's definitely broken. The good news, though, is that it doesn't look like it will require surgery. What color cast do you want?"

You're expression appears dazed to Minho and the doctor, your mind completely preoccupied. "Black," you mumble, just loud enough for him to hear you.

The doctor nods his head, disappearing from the room to retrieve the supplies to apply your cast and the shot.

You look to Minho, finally feeling like you have processed everything that's happened. "What the hell happened? How did that guy get past security, and with a knife especially?"

"Honestly, we're not sure. Management and security are reviewing the camera footage now. We were trying to be cautious; there was so much extra security tonight. It should've been impossible for anyone to get to you."

You process his words, a realization forming in your mind. "Did you guys know something about this beforehand?" Your eyebrows furrow. If they knew something, they for sure would have told you, too, right? "Is this what you were talking about in the hallway before the concert?"

"Y/N," he sighs, giving you a look full of remorse.

"No. I don't want any bullshit," you snap, "Did you or did you not know something was wrong before the concert? Is that why you have been giving me a hard time all day?" You start to put the puzzle pieces together, the day replaying in your head.

The overprotectiveness, the extra security, them not wanting you to go on your phone- they knew.

Minho looks to the ground, his shoulders slumping. "Look, we find out about some rumors going around online this morning, but-"

"Get out," you say, your voice tense.

His head snaps up, his remorseful eyes meeting your fiery ones. "What?"

"I said, Get. Out." Your unbroken hand aggressively points to the door.

"I'm not leaving you here alone. Let's just talk about this-"

"You had all day to talk to me about this, but now that I'm injured and traumatized you want to talk about it?" Your incredibly angry, and your words are filled with venom. "Get out, get out, get out!"

"Do you really think it's the best idea to be by yourself right now?" His eyes are filled with sorrow, his hands in dire need to reach out to you.

"If you don't leave right now, I will scream."

His watchful gaze rests on you for a couple seconds, before he finally gives in, rising to his feet. He walks toward the door. "We'll send a car to come get you when you're ready. There's security out here waiting, and your manager is out in the hall. I'll see you when you get back to the hotel."

He disappears out the door, once again leaving you alone with your thoughts. How dare they not tell you? There are threats going around online about you, and you're the last one they tell? In what world does that make any sense?

The doctor comes back in the room just a few minutes later. He's quick with putting your cast on, and he sends you on your way, requesting you stop by the front desk to sign a few documents before you go.

You follow him out the door, meeting up with your manager and security right outside the room.

After signing the paperwork, your manager leads you outside to the car that has been called for you.

Fans must've found out which hotel they took to you, and the outside of the hotel is flooded with Stay. Normally, you'd be ecstatic to see so many of them. However, you're exhausted and hurt, so you bring your hood over your head and stare at the ground, thankful for the security that surrounds you.

You climb in the back of the car, your manager following suit. "Why was I not informed about the threats online?" you question, your eyebrows furrowing in anger.

"The concert was going to go on no matter what, so we figured it'd be easier to get you out there if you didn't know about them."

Your jaw drops at her statement. "That is not fair, how can you just assume that? I had a right to know about this," you argue.

"This isn't really up for discussion. It's the way we chose to handle it, and that's that."

You're in disbelief at her careless attitude. "How did the guys find out about it then?"

"Nosy little shits," she laughs, but you're not sure how she's finding any humor in this situation. "They saw them online themselves. We practically had to threaten their contracts to get them not to tell you."

Your heart constricts at this new information. Emotions flood your system, and you're suddenly feeling incredibly guilty for your interaction with Minho in the hospital room. All the arguments between the two of you flood your mind, and remorse rushes your body.

They have just been trying to keep you safe all day. Trying to keep you off your phone, not letting you wander by yourself, the whispers behind your back. It all makes sense now. And you realize you've been a royal bitch all day to the wrong people.

You turn to look out the window for the remainder of the drive, knowing it's useless to argue with your manager. What she says goes. This doesn't mean you're not angry with her and the rest of management, though. This conversation needs to be had in a professional setting, not in the backseat of a car when you're by yourself.

Once you arrive at the hotel, your quick to jump out of the car, wanting to be away from your careless manager. However, you stand directly outside the door, patiently waiting for security to escort you to your room.

They walk you all the way up to your shared room with Seungmin, and you're not surprised to find all of them waiting for you when you open the door.

They're conversations halt, all eyes snapping to you. You walk in and set your bag down on the bed. Your eyes well up with tears for what feels like the hundredth time that day. "I'm so sorry," you cry, afraid to meet their concerned gazes. "Today has just been so overwhelming, and my manager sucks, and my back hurts, and I have been so rude to you guys all day-," your words are cut short by another sob wracking through your sore body. You sniffle some more, bringing your sleeve up to wipe at your face. "Min, I'm so sorry for kicking you out. I should've just listened to what you had to say. I'm such a horrible person."

All the guys are quick to stand, not wanting you to rile yourself up anymore. Hyunjin comes over to you first, gently guiding you to sit on the bed. Everyone else follows, all of you now gathered on the queen sized bed. "Listen," Minho starts, comforting you, "Absolutely none of this is your fault, you hear?" He pulls you down next to him, his arm coming up around your shoulders. "Today has been an awful day, and you don't need to work yourself up about how you treated us."

"Yea, but-"

"No buts, you need to rest. We are not mad at you."

"Not one bit. We love you so much, and we're so sorry you had to go through that. Are you ok? How's your wrist?" Chan asks from the edge of the bed, placing a comforting hand on your ankle.

"It hurts, but the doctor gave me some painkillers to take for the next few days. My cut didn't need stitches, but I have to keep it bandaged until it heals," you explain, your words coming out steadier than before.

Your cries eventually calm down, leaving you sniffling every now and again. Felix notices you've calmed down, and he nudges your leg, opening his arms for you. You crawl into them, relaxing into his calm and comforting embrace. The rest of them are quick to follow, creating one big group hug.

You know this situation is certainly not over. I'm sure you guys will press charges, and you'll probably have to release a statement of some kind. It seems that management and you guys have come to a silent agreement to deal with everything in the morning, and you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

~ ~ ~

Part 2

[kislnd]

something more - arthurtv~

synopsis: y/n comes back from a party leaving arthur jealous and a disagreement between them leads them to question where they really stand.

notes: ahhh this has been marinating in the drafts for way too long, i haven't written fics in such a long time, please forgive the quality & lmk if you liked it and want to see more!

warnings: slight angst, mentions of alcohol & hickeys

word count: 1.6k+

masterlist

y/n unlocked the door as quietly as she could manage, bracing herself for the loud click as she turned the key. slowly, she opened the door, again trying to avoid any noise. it was two in the morning, of course, and she didn't particularly want to wake up any of her housemates, especially with how busy they had been recently. she had been at a party, had some fun dancing, a couple of drinks but now she was tired, with the onset of a headache, and already regretting staying up this late.

"where have you been, y/n?" the familiar voice said in a low raspy mumble, causing y/n to nearly jump out of her skin.

"i was at that party i told you about before, and shush, you're shit at whispering" she shoots him a small smile, not that he could even see it due to the darkness engulfing the room, and turns to shut the door again trying to make minimal noise.

"oh right.." he trails off in thought, "don't you think you should have come home a bit earlier? we have to film early-ish tomorrow." usually y/n was so organised and rarely forgot anything but her appearance on arthur's channel (as per request by the viewers) had completely slipped her mind. a sober y/n would feel guilty and instantly apologise but with the alcohol coursing through her veins and clouding her mind, she began to laugh a little, "jeez alright mum, let me have a bit of fun", she grins, setting her bag down on the sofa and reaching over to turn on a lamp.

the soft orange glow illuminated the living room, allowing her to fully see arthur standing in the doorway wearing baggy trousers and a t-shirt with majorly messy hair. her heart jumped a little bit when she saw him, to say they were completely nothing would be a lie, she could swear they shamelessly flirted with each other, but it also hurt y/n a little to think that they weren't something either. a painful silence clung to the air, she could tell arthur wasn't best pleased with her. by now he would've already cracked a joke, an unfunny one, but one that would make them double over in laughter nevertheless.

"wow, you look a mess," y/n chuckles, taking in the sight and hoping to alleviate the awkwardness hanging over them.

"no shit sherlock," he folds his arms and raises his eyebrow, "you were the genius that woke me up," he adds, "and i could say the same for you,"

"shit." she curses under her breath, jogging towards the mirror above the fireplace.

"fair play," she continues after having seen the state she was in. an unfamiliar tinge of purple on her neck catches her eye, she brings her fingers up to it as a million questions circulate in her mind. when did i get this? what is it? is it even a hickey? did arthur notice?

"what are you doing?" arthur peeks his head further out of the doorway to inspect what y/n was doing. he spots the hickey and his mouth falls open, "or should i say who have you been doing?" y/n almost expected him to laugh at his own joke as he usually would but instead his expression remained unmoving. she swore she could see a glint of anger in his eyes but she couldn't be too sure. "i.." y/n starts, "i don't even remember," - to tell the truth, y/n had never been good at tolerating alcohol, it only took a few drinks to render the memories of the night hazy.

"whatever," arthur shot back, she could tell he was trying not to be too aggressive but there was still a hint of ice in his voice, perhaps even jealousy. "you don't have to believe me, i know i'm telling the truth and that's what counts," y/n immediately regrets saying that and winces, hoping she hadn't made him more angry. it was definitely a bad idea to be having a serious kind of talk after drinking, y/n wasn't sure she would be able to filter herself.

"y/n. i'm not dumb, i can see what that looks like and you're not good at lying,"

she sighs in defeat, it was so early in the morning and there was no need for an argument, she had already woken him up and this was sure to wake the rest of their housemates up, "okay...so let's say i do remember? what's it to you anyway?"

painstaking silence clung to the air as arthur tried to find his words. "i didn't-" she starts, trying to salvage what little words she could muster. "do you even like me?" is all he managed to say, genuine pain was laced in his tone. it's safe to say that y/n much preferred the silence.

"arthur-" she felt like crying, no, she was on the verge of crying, but she didn't dare show that. she knew that she was in the wrong, with forgetting about the shoot and now her stupid drunk words adding insult to injury, she had no right to cry. her mind raced with ways to fix it, she didn't want to cause another argument but equally, there was no reason to be arguing about such trivial things - she was not even his girlfriend.

"of course i like you but i thought we weren't anything." she starts, "we have been exclusively friends this entire time, you said that yourself."

"y/n. you know full well that isn't the case," his tone tainted with frustration. now y/n stood there, stunned. how could he mean one thing and say another? "listen to me, if that wasn't what you meant then why say it?" she folds her arms, "because i have never had any reason to believe we were more than friends."

"fine. i did say that, and i did mean it at a certain point," arthur pauses, carefully choosing his next words, "but now it's different."

"are you serious?" were the only words y/n found herself capable of saying.

"god y/n," arthur brings his hands to his eyes and rubs the sleep out of them in frustration, he begins to walk forward towards y/n, "can you really not tell?"

"tell what?" a small smile forms on her face, it was honestly comical that they were somehow having a deep conversation without her even understanding half of what arthur was saying. "remember, i'm drunk," she giggles.

"ah, i had forgotten how much of a lightweight you were," arthur chuckles, any awkwardness in the air had since gone and the original cosy atmosphere of their shared house returned, "i'll put it simply for you, drunk one-" he smiles and leads y/n over to the sofa, sitting her down and taking a seat by her side. "what i have been trying to say this whole time is that i want us to be more," y/n could feel arthur physically bracing himself for her reaction. "i see how it is," y/n's previously confused expressed had been replaced by a smug one, "you're jealous." she pokes her finger into his chest, "you're jealous because i might have a hickey from someone i don't even remember~" she smirks, putting on a singsong voice to emphasise her sheer enjoyment at this.

"yeah yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night." arthur rolls his eyes playfully, trying his hardest to push down any worries about it, and both of them laugh "but can you put me out of my misery here? do you feel the same?" y/n could tell that was a difficult question for arthur to ask but she didn't feel the answer was difficult at all, she knew it would be the one he wanted to hear. "of course silly," now she was sobering up she could be sure, sure about her feelings for arthur and sure about the 'hickey' on her neck. "and for the record, this hickey is just lipstick i think. i was dancing pretty closely with my friends before so," she brings her fingers up to her neck and swipes the area, sure enough, a purple-reddish residue remained stuck to her fingers.

arthur groaned, "oh my god." he sunk down into the sofa, praying it would swallow him up, "i can't believe i just confessed my love over that, god you must think i am such a loser." y/n giggled, "don't be embarrassed," she rested her back on the sofa to lie aligned with him, "you're cute when you're jealous." arthur was grateful for the dim lighting in the room, it helped mask the dusting of pink that was beginning to show on his cheeks. he swallowed thickly, "right. bed time i think," he stands abruptly, dragging y/n up with him, "we are filming tomorrow, remember?" now it was y/n's turn to groan, "i am so sorry about that," she said, referencing her earlier mistake.

instead of replying, arthur envelopes her in a warm hug, his entire body engulfing hers, like he had been waiting for this moment, for this different kind of intimacy knowing she was willing to be with him. "i can't believe you couldn't tell i liked you," she says smiling, her words muffled by his chest. "yeah well i was scared," arthur admits, "but i do promise to ask you out properly, like with flowers and stuff because this seems pretty pathetic." y/n hugs him tighter, "thank you," was the only thing she could say in the moment, she was feeling emotional but then again, everything was amplified by the remaining alcohol her body hadn't managed to process yet.

"let's get you watered, medicated and put to bed,"

"i feel fine now, like i could take on the world,"

"i do tend to have that effect on people," arthur grins, steering y/n in the direction of her bedroom.

[bunnliix]

When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter One

I finally have a first chapter out! Finally!! It's a bit shorter than I wanted it to be, but like it's here after so long, so I'm happy with it! Plus we get some angry boys in this fic

Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader Summary: Ateez wc: 1.4k AU: a/b/o Genre: Fluff/Angst warnings: Angry Joongie/ateez, yelling, mentions of anxiety and fear, angst with some fluff, honestly just the boys are pissed off but mostly it's Hongjoong being royally pissed, I think taht's everything? masterlist

“What do you mean we need another member?!” Hongjoong asked the KQ management team members in front of him.

“We’ve decided that you need something new to add to the group, and that a new member will be the best choice to attract more attention to Ateez.” One of the higher up staff members replied.

“We’ve been fine for five years, why do we need another member?” The captain asked through gritted teeth.

“Look, the decision has been made, there’s nothing more to say. You and the rest of the members will have to prepare to have a new member.” They said, a tone of finality marking the end of the conversation.

“So we’re supposed to just accept whoever the fuck you find into the group, and potentially our pack, without any say?!” Hongjoong exclaimed, fed up with the group of people in front of him at the moment. They really thought they could just spring this news on him and he’d be fine with it?

“It’s in the best interests for Ateez.” Was all that was said, as if it was a sufficient explanation in any way for the upheaval of the status quo for Ateez.

Hongjoong pushed his chair back, standing up and leaving the room quickly, trying to keep his temper under control. Who did they think they were? Ateez had done so much for this company and now they’re haphazardly adding a new member into his group. This changed everything. They’d had to readjust the choreography, the lines for every song, any of the concepts they’ve come up with now have to be adjusted. He stormed into the practice room where the rest of the pack was practicing, and a couple of them flinched at the anger emanating from their captain and pack alpha.

“Hongjoong, are you okay? What did they want to tell you?” Seonghwa asked cautiously, not wanting to anger the man further.

“They want to add a new member to our group. A new member after all this time!” Hongjoong ranted, revealing the news to the rest of the group.

The rest of the group had various reactions of shock, and more than a few were angry at this news being sprung on them. Wooyoung felt the brunt of everyone else’s reactions and curled into himself, while Seonghwa moved to try and calm down Hongjoong, knowing that it wouldn’t be productive to talk while he’s that upset. The eldest member, who also was the head omega, wrapped his arms around the smaller man, pushing out a soothing and calming scent to try and get the captain of their group to calm down. It worked thankfully, and Hongjoong rested his head on the other man’s chest.

“Thank you Hwa.” He softly said to the other man, once he had gathered his emotions and had calmed down significantly. He was still upset, but not as much as he was minutes ago.

“Always.” Seonghwa replied, smiling at the alpha. He brought the pack alpha closer to the rest of the guys, and they all sat down on the floor before starting to talk about what this change means for all of them.

“Did they say how they’re choosing a new member? I assume it’d be another trainee from the company?” Wooyoung queried, his eyes full of curiosity.

“They didn’t get that far before I left.” Hongjoong admitted.

“You could’ve waited around until they told you at least!” Wooyoung whined.

“Wooyoung, quiet down. This is not news any of us were expecting, and even if it was, the expectation is that we would have been included in the conversation. So I don’t blame Joong for storming out. KQ took the choice of having a new member away from us, which isn’t fair on any of us, let alone Hongjoong.” Seonghwa scolded the younger man, who looked properly chided by the end of it.

At that exact moment, Hongjoong’s phone started ringing once again, making the idol frown before answering it.

“Yes?”

The rest of the group watched as Hongjoong listened to whoever was on the other line, not sure what the call was about. Though it wasn’t long before they found out as Hongjoong sighed as he ended the call.

“So, what’s going on now?” San asked their leader.

“They want all of us upstairs for a meeting, right now.” Hongjoong stated.

They all knew this was about the new member, and they all got up from the various places in the room, heading towards the door with the two eldest leading the group. They walked up to the designated meeting room, trudging in to find most of the same group that had been in the earlier meeting with Hongjoong. 

The eight men sat down in the chairs set out for them, and as soon as they’re sitting, one of the management team starts talking, as another hands each of them a pile of thin folders.

“Here are the shortlisted candidates for the ninth member of Ateez. We’ve already held auditions, and these are the smaller number of candidates that we think are suitable for the role of your newest member.” He explained to the group.

“What do you mean you’ve held auditions? Without informing at the very least, Mingi and I?” Hongjoong questioned the man, a frown evident on his face.

“You weren’t needed. You had other pressing matters, so we took the liberty of holding auditions. It doesn’t matter now, you have the information on all 20 shortlisted candidates. We’re bringing them all here to do a final audition, as well as to make sure they fit within Ateez.” The man continued, ignoring any reaction from the two producing members.

Before the captain could retort, Seonghwa’s hand touched his arm, and the pack alpha looked over at his omega, who reminded him non-verbally that he needed to calm down. Getting mad at the company right now wouldn’t be productive. But that didn’t stop others from protesting the company’s decisions.

“Wait! So you’ve gone through this whole process and never thought to even consult us or tell us what you were planning until now, when we’re almost to the point of you choosing a new member?” Wooyoung shouted, staring down the opposite side of the table.

“As I just said, you were all busy and weren’t needed until this point in the process.” The man repeated himself, seeming very tired with having to reiterate his words.

Grumbles and mumbles about the way that KQ management has conducted things so far were heard from Ateez’s side of the table. Their manager picked up where the other man stopped, hoping to calm the boys down, they didn’t need angry alphas, nor a pissed off Ateez pack, it wouldn’t end well for anyone.

“We’ve brought you in now, because this is now more of your decision than it is ours, but we will still have input on the decision. The 20 candidates chosen are arriving tomorrow, and don’t worry, they’ve all been thoroughly checked to ensure they’re not sasaengs.” The manager assured them.

“We’ll look past the issue that you didn’t think to talk to us until now. But why wait to tell us they’re arriving till today and that they will be here tomorrow. There were plenty of opportunities before today, that you could have pulled one of us aside and said something, if not pulled us all into a meeting.” Hongjoong lectured the staff members, thoroughly upset with them and their actions.

“Regardless, this was the major thing we wanted to discuss. Though once the prospective members arrive tomorrow morning, in the afternoon they’ll be here for their final auditions, and to see how well they fit in with you. So you will be required to be here at the company at noon tomorrow.” The first man informed them.

There were huffs from the members who were quick to anger, and especially from the alphas in the pack, and the others had displeased looks on their faces.

“Well, thank you for at least informing us today, instead of springing it on us tomorrow.” Seonghwa cut in, before Hongjoong could say anything. The omega had also grabbed Joongs wrist, trying to calm the anger he could feel coming off of the alpha in waves.

Sadly for Seonghwa, his efforts were for naught.

“I will remember this, and you better hope that there’s someone in your shortlist that I and the rest of the pack can get along with. Or no one will be happy.” Hongjoong said as he pushed his chair back and stood up, prompting the rest of the pack to do the same. With the pack alpha leading the group, they all walked out, leaving the management team behind.

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[msilwrites]

Midnight Snack Mystery (Simon 'Ghost' Fic) Part 3

Wife! Reader Pregnant! Reader Hungry! Reader Possessive! Ghost Possessive! Simon 'Ghost’ Riley Possessive! Simon Ghost Riley Good Cook! Simon Ghost Riley Husband! Simon 'Ghost’ Riley Hungry Wife! Reader By this time he is already Captain or Major! or Lieutenant Col! Simon 'Ghost’ Riley Edit: P.S. I did some light edits, you may re-read again if you want. Parts;

Part 1, Part 2,

Long, not so-long, but light hearted read. Warning: Don’t read when hungry!!

Summary:

A few years later, Y/N is pregnant again with their second daughter, and the midnight cravings are back with a vengeance. Determined to sneak out for a late-night snack, she throws on Simon’s hoodie and tiptoes toward the door with her eco bag in hand.

But just as she’s about to make her escape, a tiny voice stops her in her tracks.

“Mummy?”

She turns to find Tommy standing in the hallway, arms crossed, her scowl a perfect mimic of her father’s.

“Where are you going?” Tommy demands, her tone filled with suspicion.

“Er…” Y/N hesitated, caught in the act. “Just getting some fresh air, sweetheart.”

Tom unfolded her arms and placed her hands on her hips, adopting a stance that was pure Simon. “Take me with you, or I’ll tell Pa.”

This time, Simon’s mini-Simon, Tommy, is on guard, making it harder for Y/N to sneak out for snacks without bribing her little one. Nothing gets past her, especially when she’s armed with the perfect mimic of her father’s scowl and a blackmail threat to get in on the late-night adventure.

----------

The house was silent, the soft hum of the heater the only sound breaking the stillness. Y/N shifted on the couch, trying to get comfortable with her ever-growing belly. She glanced at the clock. Midnight. Simon—Pa, as their daughter fondly called him—was upstairs, sound asleep, snoring lightly. Their four-year-old daughter, Tommy, was supposedly fast asleep in her room.

At least, Y/N hoped she was.

Her stomach gave a low, insistent growl, and she sighed. Kebabs or noodles? The decision was almost as urgent as her craving. Slipping on Simon’s hoodie, the one that fit her best these days, she made her way quietly to the kitchen. She grabbed her eco bag from the counter and tiptoed to the door, thinking she’d managed a clean getaway.

“Mummy?”

Y/N froze, one hand on the door handle, the other clutching the bag. Turning around slowly, she spotted a tiny figure standing in the hallway. Their daughter, Tom, with her arms crossed, her expression a perfect mimic of Simon’s famous scowl.

“Where are you going?” Tom asked, her little voice serious.

“Er…” Y/N hesitated, caught in the act. “Just getting some fresh air, sweetheart.”

Tom tilted her head, skeptical. “With the snack bag?”

Y/N winced. Nothing gets past this one. “It’s… for emergencies,” she offered lamely.

“Like kebabs?” Tom pressed, her piercing gaze locking onto her mother’s.

Y/N let out a defeated sigh. “Not kebabs. Maybe noodles. Mummy hasn’t decided yet.”

Tom unfolded her arms and placed her hands on her hips, adopting a stance that was pure Simon. “Take me with you, or I’ll tell Pa.”

Y/N gasped. “Tom, that’s not fair!”

Tom didn’t flinch, her little face a mask of determination. “What’s fair is you taking me too.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hand. “Tommy, it’s really late. You should be in bed, my darling.”

Tom stared at her, her expression unyielding, and the look on her face was so similar to Simon’s that it was almost uncanny. She crossed her arms and gave a firm nod. “But I’m your partner.”

Y/N hesitated, her exhaustion warring with the stubborn little person in front of her. There was no arguing with that face—Tom looked exactly like Simon when he was determined, and that made it impossible to say no.

That did it. Y/N burst into laughter, the sheer absurdity of her pint-sized interrogator hitting her all at once. “Alright, fine, my little accomplice. Go put on your shoes.”

Tom’s face lit up, her scowl replaced by a victorious grin. She toddled off to grab her sneakers, and Y/N shook her head in resignation. This was definitely Simon’s child—watchful, clever, and impossible to outmaneuver.

As Y/N waited by the door, she muttered to herself, “Simon’s going to have my head for this.”

But she knew the truth: he’d laugh first.

----------

The noodle shop was alive with the quiet clatter of utensils and the occasional murmur of late-night diners. It was 1 a.m., and Y/N was settling into a booth with Tom beside her, her eco bag perched at her feet. The familiar aroma of broth, spices, and freshly cooked dumplings filled the air, easing her pregnancy cravings even before the food arrived.

Tommy was seated primly on the booth cushion, her legs dangling off the edge, her tiny hands placed flat on the table like she was conducting serious business. The server had brought over a booster seat to make sure she could reach her food properly, and her miniature bowl of noodles and dumplings looked comically small compared to the towering one in front of Y/N.

“This smells good,” Tom declared, leaning forward to inspect her bowl with a scrutinizing gaze that was pure Simon.

“Glad you approve, my love,” Y/N teased, already twirling noodles onto her chopsticks. “Tuck in before it gets cold.”

Tom was handed a fork and spoon, which she grasped with both hands, still trying to look very grown-up, despite her tiny frame.

Tommy didn’t need to be told twice. She attacked the noodles with an enthusiasm that rivaled her father’s, slurping loudly and somehow managing not to spill a drop on her little shirt. Y/N watched in awe—and slight horror—as her daughter demolished the dumplings one by one, pausing only to sip the broth with noisy satisfaction. Tom ate with a methodical precision that could only have been inherited from Simon. Y/N found herself wondering if this was what life was going to be like—her house full of tiny Simons. Maybe she'd have a whole squadron of them in the future. A little army of Simon look-alikes, (A/N: Yes it will be Y/N!! Without a bloody doubt, it will be! LOL!!) all scowling at her like she’s their next mission. Each one cunning, smart, methodical, and observant—probably plotting their next move with the precision of seasoned operatives. And who knows? Maybe they’d take over the world while they’re at it.

When Tom finally leaned back with a content sigh, her bowl empty, Y/N blinked at her. “Tommy, you… you finished all of it? Even the soup?”

Tom dabbed at her mouth with a napkin, mimicking Simon’s precise mannerisms, and nodded. “Yep. It was really good. I think this is why I like noodles so much.”

Y/N frowned, confused. “Why’s that, sweetheart?”

Tom tilted her head, her tone confident as if stating the most obvious fact. “'Cause you ate this when I was in your tummy. So I ate it too.”

Y/N blinked, biting back a laugh. “That’s… not exactly how it works, sweetheart.”

Tom nodded firmly, undeterred. “Pa told me! He said you sneaked out at night to eat noodles and kebabs when I was in your tummy.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice like it was a big secret. “He said you were sneaky!”

Y/N paused, the chopsticks frozen in her hand. “Oh, did he now?”

Tommy puffed up her chest, clearly proud of her next statement. “Uh-huh! And Pa said I have to watch you. So if you sneak out again, I gotta tell him.”

Y/N paused mid-sip of her drink, trying not to laugh at how seriously Tom was taking her "mission." She leaned in, lowering her voice like they were sharing a secret. “Well, remember, sweetheart, we made a deal before we snuck out, didn’t we? You come with me to get noodles and dumplings, but you don’t tell Pa, right?”

Tom looked at her, big eyes thoughtful for a moment, then nodded decisively. “I didn’t tell him yet. But I’m gonna tell him later... when I’m done with my dumplings.” She took a deep breath, clearly considering her options. “But only if I have two plates!”

Y/N laughed, giving in to her daughter's negotiation skills. “Alright, two plates it is. But no telling Pa, okay?”

Tom grinned widely, pleased with herself. “Deal!”

Y/N shook her head, watching her daughter dig into her dumplings with enthusiasm. "I swear, you’re already better at this than I am."

----------

The walk back home was peaceful, the neighborhood quiet and safe under the soft glow of the streetlights. Y/N’s hand was clasped tightly in Tom’s, the small, reassuring presence of her daughter grounding her as they walked. They passed familiar houses, the sounds of distant laughter or the occasional door closing marking the stillness of the late hour.

As they rounded a corner, a blue-and-yellow police car cruised by, the flashing lights briefly lighting up the streets. Y/N gave a friendly wave, recognizing the constables in the car.

“Mrs. Riley, what are you doing so late at this hour?” one of the constables called out, rolling down the window. But before Y/N could answer, Tom spoke up, pointing proudly toward the direction of the 24-hour shops.

“We had noodles!” she declared with all the seriousness of a seasoned informant.

The constable laughed, clearly amused. “I see, pregnancy cravings, is it?” He looked from Tom to Y/N with a knowing smile. “Well, in that case, you should try the Thai place down the street, just past the corner. It’s open almost 24 hours, too, and the best Pad Thai and Tom Yum soup I’ve ever had. Might be just what you need for the next craving!”

Y/N’s eyes lit up, her mind already racing with the idea of another midnight adventure. “Oh, that sounds perfect,” she said, already planning her next excursion. The thought of another late-night snack, especially something spicy, made her feel even more excited about the next time she’d get a craving.

The constable gave a friendly wave. “Enjoy! And don’t let her overdo it, Mrs. Riley.”

Y/N laughed, waving back. “I’ll try not to!”

With a final wave, the car drove off, its lights fading as they disappeared around the corner. Y/N and Tom continued their walk home, Tom skipping along beside her.

----------

The house was quiet when they returned, the night still and calm. Y/N gently eased the front door shut, careful not to wake Simon. She could hear the soft hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen and the distant tick of the clock on the wall. With Tom’s small hand still in hers, Y/N quietly made her way up the stairs, the weight of her pregnant belly a reminder of just how far along she was with their second child. Despite the extra weight, she still felt strong, lifting Tom with ease as she reached the top of the stairs.

Tom’s little arms wrapped around her neck as she carried her to her room, her face still holding the serious expression from their late-night snack mission.

Once inside, Y/N carefully set Tom down on the bed, smoothing her hair back. “Alright, sweetheart. I need you to listen to me for a second.”

Tom, ever the attentive listener, sat up straighter, giving her mother a look that seemed to say she was ready for anything.

Y/N sighed, brushing a hand through her own hair. “You can’t come with me next time. It’s just too late, and it doesn’t feel right. You need your sleep, darling. And if Pa finds out, well…” She trailed off, her mind already racing through what Simon might say. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

Tom, unimpressed, crossed her arms, her gaze unwavering as she looked at Y/N. “Ok, when I catch you next time, I’m telling Pa.”

Y/N blinked, momentarily stunned by her daughter’s confidence, and then chuckled to herself. “You really are your father’s daughter, aren’t you?”

Tom gave her a smug nod, as if she already knew the outcome of their conversation.

Y/N sighed, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. “Alright, I’ve got a better idea. How about this?” She leaned in, lowering her voice like they were sharing a secret. “Every time I go on one of these midnight snack runs, I’ll bring you food. I’ll even pack it in your lunchbox for the next day. But you’ve got to promise me you won’t tell Pa. Deal?”

Tom’s eyes widened at the mention of food, and she clearly gave it some thought, her little face scrunching up in deep contemplation. After a moment, she gave a firm nod, as if agreeing to some sort of international treaty. “Deal,” she said with finality.

Y/N smiled, ruffling Tom’s hair. “Good. Now, you get some sleep, alright?”

Tom grinned, snuggling down into her blankets, her little face full of determination. “I’m gonna sleep, Mummy. But next time, if you don’t bring me goodies, I’m telling Pa’.”

Y/N chuckled, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “Alright, alright, I’ll make sure to bring you something. I’ll even set a reminder on my phone so I don’t forget.”

Tom nodded seriously, as if the agreement had been made and couldn’t be undone.

As she turned off the light and quietly closed the door behind her, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if she was really dealing with a four-year-old—or a tiny Simon in the making.

----------

From that day forward, Tom’s lunchboxes became a daily display of culinary variety. Every day was a different adventure in flavor. One day, she'd open it to find a neat little compartment of Pad Thai, the noodles perfectly tangled with a side of deep-fried spring rolls. Tom wouldn’t show it off to anyone, of course—she was far too busy eating it, enjoying every bite without the slightest intention of sharing. Her classmates often stared at her, wondering how she got such interesting lunches, but Tom didn’t care. She was too focused on making sure she had enough to finish all of it herself.

Other days, her lunchbox contained soupy noodles, which Tom would confidently ask her teachers to reheat in the staff pantry. Her teachers, always polite but visibly puzzled, couldn’t help but wonder how a four-year-old even knew about the pantry—or the microwave, for that matter. "How does she know this stuff?" one of them muttered. "She must’ve learned that from someone," another added, trying to figure out who in her family would teach her such a skill.

Then, there were the days when she’d have kebabs—skewered and seasoned to perfection—served with rice that looked like it belonged in a restaurant rather than a preschool lunchbox. The teachers had stopped asking questions and now just marveled at the variety. It was the kind of bento box you’d expect from a food vlogger, crafting meals so impressive they could double as content for her side hustle selling bento boxes.

Every day brought something new—mooping and rice, skewers, or dumplings. The teachers exchanged amused glances, quietly wondering how Y/N managed to whip up such gourmet meals for a four-year-old, while Tom ate like a tiny food critic savoring every bite.

"Do you want me to help you with that, Tom?" one of the teachers asked, eyeing the spiced meat with curiosity.

Tom shook her head, grinning as she wiped her mouth. "No thanks! I’ve got it," she said cheerfully.

----------

It was finally time for Y/N to settle into life with their second daughter, affectionately nicknamed 'Bubby' for her round, bao-like shape. Tommy had come up with the nickname when she first saw her new sister. The little one’s round, stout body reminded Tommy of the bao buns Y/N had brought home during her midnight snack runs while pregnant. Every time Y/N would sneak out for her late-night cravings, Tommy would get her favorite buns with different tasty fillings, making it a secret mission the two of them shared—no one else knew about the midnight snack operation. And when Tommy first saw Bubby, it wasn’t just her round shape that reminded her of the bao. She also realized that Bubby, just like her, had inherited their father Simon’s features—adding another Simon/Mini-Simon minion to the family’s ever-growing ranks.

As Simon was getting ready for work, dressed in his military uniform and grabbing his gear, he paused for a moment. He still needed to drop Tommy off at school before heading to base. After his work, he’d pick Tommy up and head to the hospital to check on Y/N and their new daughter.

"Tommy? Love, what do you want for lunch? I'll make it for you," Simon called out casually, already reaching for the lunchbox he knew Tommy preferred.

"No thank you, I'll do it myself," came Tommy's reply, as she reached for the lunchbox Simon had picked up. Her answer was delivered with the kind of grown-up tone that made Simon raise an eyebrow.

Simon stood frozen for a moment, watching his daughter. Tommy was opening the fridge, methodically grabbing containers, one after another. She began placing them on the floor with the precision of a seasoned chef. Dumplings, spring rolls, baos, skewers, wraps—everything neatly organized and ready to be devoured.

As Tommy rearranged the glass containers back into the fridge with an intense focus, Simon began to realize what was happening. His eyes widened as he saw her prepare her lunch.

"Wait a minute..." Simon muttered, the realization dawning on him. "She’s been doing the midnight snack runs again, hasn’t she?"

Simon sighed, rubbing his temple in exasperation. His wife, the master of stealth, had successfully pulled off yet another late-night snack excursion. He was the 'Ghost,' sharp and observant, but when it came to Y/N, it seemed like he never quite won. There were plenty of times he had nearly caught her in the act, only to end up carrying her back to bed, sleepily protesting as he tucked her in. He should have known better than to be so complacent. Y/N always found a way to sneak past his vigilance.

Tommy didn’t look up from her task, but there was a small smirk pulling at the corner of her lips. She was fully complicit in this whole secret snack operation. Simon had known his wife was sneaky, but seeing his daughter involved was both hilarious and concerning.

"So… I thought you were my little informant, huh?" Simon mused aloud, crossing his arms. "Your mother’s been bribing you with bao and dumplings? What’s next, is she going to start making you homemade kimchi to keep the secret safe?"

Tommy finished arranging the fridge and looked up at her father with a perfectly serious face. "I'm not telling you anything," she replied cryptically, her tone sharp and dry, laced with just enough sass to make Simon raise an eyebrow. The way she delivered the line was pure Simon—sharp, clever, and packed with the same infuriating sass she’d clearly inherited from him.

Simon stared at her for a moment, blinking in surprise. “Oh, so you’re keeping secrets now, huh?” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Alright, Tommy, you’ve got some nerve. I’ll have to bring out the big guns for this one,” he added, trying—and failing—not to laugh. “You wait until we’re in that hospital room later. I’ll have you and your mum both spilling the beans. Trust me, I’ll get the answers I need.”

Tommy just shrugged, clearly unfazed by her father’s playful threat. “I’m invoking my right to remain silent until I get a lawyer,” she said with a straight face, the words coming out like she had practiced them in front of a mirror.

Simon blinked, momentarily taken aback, before a smirk slowly spread across his face. He hadn’t expected his four-year-old to sound like a seasoned criminal in an interrogation room.

“Alright, you,” he said, already mentally planning his "interrogation" methods for later. "But I’m not going easy on you."

Tommy grabbed her lunchbox, slipped on her shoes, and skipped toward the door, ready for school. Simon watched her go, shaking his head and muttering to himself, “I think we’ve created a monster.”

----------

The hospital room was quiet except for the soft sounds of baby Bubby’s breathing as Y/N cradled her daughter in her arms. Tommy, sitting beside her mother on the bed, couldn’t take her eyes off the new little bundle of joy. Bubby, with her round, bao-like face, looked even more adorable in person. Tommy couldn’t help but laugh inwardly, seeing how much Bubby looked like Simon—and like herself. It was as if Y/N was just popping out tiny Simon minions, each one more determined than the last. Tommy was sure that mischievous glint would show up in Bubby’s eyes sooner rather than later.

Tommy reached over, gently poking her sister's cheek. The softness of Bubby's skin made Tommy grin, her little finger pressing into the small, chubby face.

"Bubby’s so squishy," she said, in awe, her eyes sparkling as she admired the newest addition to their family.

Simon, who had been quietly observing, had other plans. He sat up, crossed his arms, and his expression shifted to something more serious. "Alright, Tommy," he said with a playful smirk, "Now that Bubby’s here, I think it’s time for a little chat. You seem to be complicit in your mother’s midnight snack runs, huh? I told you to keep an eye on her, not join in on the crime."

Tommy gave him a look, the same scowl Simon often wore when he was up to something, and crossed her arms. Y/N tried not to laugh—Tommy had definitely inherited her father’s judgy scowl along with his sass. It was like Simon vs. Mini Simon in that moment.

Before Simon could continue, Tommy turned to her mother, the way a seasoned criminal lawyer might advise their client. "Mummy," she said, her voice full of seriousness, "it’s fine now. Don't worry! The crime’s no longer valid." She paused, adding with a nonchalant shrug, "Bubby’s born. It’s all over now."

Simon and Y/N both stared at her, mouths slightly agape, unable to process what had just happened. Y/N blinked, her surprise evident. "What do you mean, 'the crime’s no longer valid'?" she asked, thoroughly confused by Tommy’s logic. But Y/N giggled, seeing how Tommy was talking just like Simon.

Tommy looked at her, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It’s simple, Mum. Bubby's born now. The midnight snack run—it’s not a thing anymore. It’s done. There’s no crime anymore, right?" She gave her father a smug look. "It’s case closed, Pa', "

Simon sat there, frozen for a moment. His daughter, acting like a pro in the world of criminal defense, had just completely thrown him off course. He leaned back, jaw hanging slightly agape. "Where did you learn to talk like that?" he asked, genuinely baffled.

Y/N couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst out laughing. “Simon, she is so you!” she giggled. “She’s got your logic, your sass, your everything!” Still trying to wrap her head around Tommy’s "legal logic," Y/N added with a small laugh, “Well, I suppose we can’t argue with that.”

Simon, recovering quickly, raised an eyebrow. "Oh, it’s not over, young lady," he said with a grin. "We’ll see if your sister agrees with that logic when she’s old enough to understand."

Tommy, unfazed, poked Bubby's cheek again and smiled, clearly enjoying how she’d handled the "interrogation."

Tommy narrowed her eyes at Simon, like he was the one being questioned. “You think you can stop me?” she asked confidently. “I’ve got my ways.” She paused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “And Bubby’s already in on it. She’s hooked.”

Simon raised an eyebrow. “How’s that?”

Tommy smirked, her eyes gleaming. “Simple, Pa'. She ate her first bao while she was still in Mummy’s tummy. She’s already part of the team.”

Simon blinked a few times, then chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, this is not good,” he muttered, clearly impressed but slightly defeated.

Tommy, satisfied with her response, poked Bubby’s cheek again and grinned.

----------

Time had passed, and Y/N was now pregnant with their third child—a son this time. One late night, unable to resist the cravings that had been haunting her, she carefully slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb Simon. Pulling on his oversized hoodie, she tiptoed toward the stairs, determined to make a quick escape to the 24-hour shops. A bao bun or two sounded perfect, and with Simon fast asleep, she was sure she could pull it off.

But the moment she reached the bottom of the staircase, the hallway light flicked on.

Standing there, arms crossed and expressions as stern as Simon’s during a debrief, were Tommy and Bubby. Their faces bore such an uncanny resemblance to their father’s that Y/N had to do a double take. It was as if Simon himself had multiplied and stationed his miniatures to catch her in the act.

“Mum,” Tommy began, her tone low and exacting, just like Simon’s when he was about to interrogate someone. “Where do you think you’re going this late?”

Bubby, standing slightly behind her big sister but mirroring her crossed arms and tilted head, chimed in. “Yeah, where you goin’, Mum? Pa’ told you to stay in bed.”

Y/N blinked, caught completely off guard by the sight of her two “little watchdogs.” She swallowed a laugh and tried to play innocent. “I was just going out for a little snack run, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.”

Tommy’s eyes narrowed, and she stepped forward, pointing an accusing finger at her. “To the shops? At this hour? Pa’ wouldn’t be happy if he knew.”

Bubby nodded emphatically, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You’re gonna be in so much trouble, Mum. We’ll tell Pa’.”

“Wait, wait,” Y/N interjected, holding up her hands as if trying to calm down a pair of constables. “There’s no need for that, alright? It’s just a quick trip, and I’ll be back before anyone notices. You two should go back to bed.”

But the children weren’t letting her off that easy.

Tommy smirked—Simon’s smirk. “Not a chance. Either you take us with you, or we’re waking Pa’ right now.”

Y/N’s mouth opened in disbelief. “Take you with me? It’s late, and you’ve got school tomorrow!”

Bubby shrugged, her small arms still crossed. “Then we’ll just tell Pa’. He’s really good at waking up when he hears something suspicious.” She turned to Tommy. “Should we call him now?”

Before Y/N could respond, a low, familiar voice cut through the tension.

“Call me for what?”

All three turned toward the stairs to see Simon standing there, his hair disheveled and his arms crossed. Despite his rumpled appearance, his sharp gaze landed squarely on Y/N, then shifted to their two little accomplices.

“Mum was trying to sneak out!” Tommy declared triumphantly, pointing at Y/N. “She was going to the shops!”

Bubby nodded, backing her up. “We caught her!”

Simon raised an eyebrow, looking between his wife and their pint-sized detectives. “Did you now?” he said, his voice calm but tinged with amusement.

Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples. “Simon, it’s just a snack run. I wasn’t trying to start a rebellion.”

Simon’s lips twitched into a smirk as he descended the stairs. “You’ve been sneaky about it before. How many times did I almost catch you and carry you back to bed? Thought you’d learned by now that I don’t miss much.”

Y/N sighed again, giving Simon a pointed look but saying nothing.

Tommy and Bubby exchanged looks, grinning as if they’d won a great victory.

“Well,” Simon said, placing a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and another on Bubby’s. “Since we’re all up now, and apparently this is a family operation, why don’t we all go together?”

Y/N blinked, her jaw dropping slightly. “You’re serious?”

Tommy and Bubby cheered, running to grab their shoes and jackets.

Y/N threw her hands up in mock defeat. “Fine, fine...”

As they headed out the door, Simon leaned down toward Y/N, a knowing smirk on his face. “You’re not sneaky, love. You’ve just been lucky.” He tilted his head toward their children, who were already walking ahead, excitedly debating their snack options. “But now I’ve got reinforcements. No more bribing your way out of this.”

Y/N shook her head and laughed. “Oh, we’ll see about that.”

A/N: Well, I might do a part 4? With their third child? Who knows, if another silly idea pops up!! LOL!! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this one!! Cheers!!

P.S. There are actual 4-year-olds out there who talk scarily like Tommy and Bubby. It's honestly terrifying—hard to get past them when they’re on guard! 😅 (From experience!)

Part 1, Part 2,

[lee-laurent]

Just Friendly Things -- Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinn brings his "friend" Hayden to meet the guys, only issue... they all wanna get on his nerves by flirting with her

content: arguing, teasing, flirting, some posssibly sexist jokes, suggestive jokes, making out, implied smut but no explicit smut

wc: 6.6k

notes: this took way longer than i expected because i hated the first few versions of hayden that i wrote. hope you guys enjoy! and pls pls let me know which fic from my most recent list you wanna see next!!!

Quinn had been convinced he had a type, until he met Hayden. The moment he laid eyes on the freckle-covered brunette behind the bar, all his ideas of the perfect woman went out the window.

He hadn't planned on approaching her that night--he rarely did that sort of thing--but something about her made it impossible to stay in his seat. Maybe it was the way her eyes sparkled as she teased the patrons, or the quick, confident way she moved, shaking cocktails and sliding beers across the counter without missing a beat. Or maybe it was her laugh, low and raspy, floating above the noise of the crowd and hitting him like a bucket of cold water.

When he reached the bar, he still hadn't figured out what to say. But she noticed him right away, tipping her head at him with an arched brow. "You gonna order something, or just stand there looking pretty?" she asked, smirking.

It had taken Quinn half a second too long to respond, his brain short-circuiting at the sound of her voice. Her smirk only deepened as she watched him scramble for words.

"Uh, yeah--just a beer. Whatever's on tap," he finally managed, shoving a hand through his hair.

"Sure thing, champ." She poured the drink in one smooth motion and set it in front of him, wiping her hands on a bar towel. "That'll be six bucks."

Quinn handed her a twenty. "Keep the change."

Her green eyes flicked up to meet his. "Big spender, huh?"

He shrugged, suddenly unsure of himself. "Just figured you deserve it. You're working hard."

That made her pause. The teasing look on her face softened for a split second, and she gave him a small smile before moving on to the next customer.

That had been six months ago. Now, Quinn had her memorized in ways he wasn't sure were healthy. He knew how her lips curved when she smiled, the exact spot on her shoulder that made her shiver when she kissed it, and the way her voice sounded when she moaned his name in the dark.

Not that they were anything serious--she'd made that clear from the start. "I'm not looking for a boyfriend, Hughes," she'd said one night, perched on the edge of his bed, wearing nothing but one of his hoodies. Her legs had been tucked under her, and her fingers toyed absently with the hem of the sweathshirt. "I don't have time for that right now. Gotta focus on work and school, and I don't need a distraction."

"Fair enough," he'd replied, leaning back against the headboard and trying to sound nonchalant, like her answer didn't sting just a little.

It wasn't like he could blame her. She worked crazy hours at the bar, saving every spare dollar for tuition. And yet, every few nights, she still found her way into his bed--or his car, or his couch--looking at him with those green eyes and making it very clear she wanted him.

And that was the problem, really. He knew exactly what she wanted from him, but the feelings that had started creeping up on him were a hell of a lot messier.

Like now, as they drove through the winding roads to the lake house. Hayden was sitting in the passenger seat, scrolling through her phone, completely oblivious to the way he kept sneaking glances at her. She'd insisted she could come as a friend--"We're just hanging out, right? Your brothers don't need to know anything."

Quinn had agreed, mostly because he didn't want to push his luck. But the idea of her spending an entire weekend around his brothers and friends--Jack, Luke, Cole, and Trevor--while pretending they didn't have history? He wasn't sure how he was supposed to keep it together.

Especially not when she looked like that.

~~

Quinn tightened his grip on the steering wheel, forcing himself to look at the road instad of Hayden. She was lounging in the passenger seat like she owned the place, legs pulled up and bare feet resting on the dash--something that normally annoyed him, but didn't when it was her. Her hair was twisted up on top of her head with a claw-clip, dark sunglasses perched on her nose, and her shorts were so short they were more like denim underwear. And worse, she didn't seem to have a single clue what she was doing to him.

"Any bets on how long before Trevor starts acting like an idiot?" she asked, not looking up from her phone.

Quinn exhaled, shaking his head. "Two minutes after we pull in."

Hayden snorted. "I'm giving him 30 seconds. Kid doesn't have an off switch."

"Don't let him get to you," Quinn warned, though his jaw clenched at the thought. He already knew how this was going to go: Trevor was going to flirt, Jack and Luke were going to egg him on, and Cole was going to sit back and stir the pot like the chaos-loving menace he was. The last thing Quinn needed was his brothers and friends turning this weekend into some weird interrogation.

She finally looked at him, dropping her phone onto her lap. "Relax, Hughesy. I can handle myself."

That was the problem. He knew she could handle herself. Hayden could flirt and toss back jabs like it was nobody's business. She was cool under pressure, quick with comebacks, and completely unfazed by guys like his friends. If anything, they were going to love her. Which was great--except it also meant they were going to keep pushing, keep prodding, and Quinn was going to have to sit there and pretend it didn't bother him.

He wasn't entirely sure he could pull that off.

The house was already crazy when they arrived. Quinn barely had time to turn off the engine before the front door flew open, and Jack and Trevor came sprinting out like a couple of dogs that'd been cooped up too long.

"Quinny!" Jack hollered, dragging out the name like he was twelve. His eyes darted to Hayden before a shit-eating grin stretched across his face. "And you brought a friend!"

"Careful, Jack, you're drooling," Hayden teased, sliding out of the car like she hadn't just turned Quinn's brain to mush.

Trevor skidded to a stop next to Jack, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head as he gave Hayden an exaggerated once-over. "Who's this?" he asked, like Quinn wasn't standing right there.

"Hayden," she said, unfazed. "You must be Trevor."

His grin widened. "Guilty. Did Quinn tell you that I'm his favourite?"

Quinn groaned, dragging their bags out of the trunk. "Literally no one has ever said that ever."

Trevor ignored him, zeroing in on Hayden. "So, you a hockey fan? Or did Quinny trick you into coming up here?"

Hayden shot Quinn a quick, amused look over her shoulder before turning back to the blond. "No tricks. I just like the lake."

"I'm gonna like you."

"Trevor," Quinn said sharply, but it was too late. Hayden was already laughing, and Trevor looked delighted, like he'd just discovered a new game.

This was going to be a long weekend.

~~

The kitchen was already loud by the time Quinn woke up the next morning. Jack was rummaging through the fridge, muttering complaints about the lack of skim milk, while Luke stood at the stove making ovens. Trevor was leaning against the counter, already drinking despite the early hour.

Then there was Hayden, perched on a stool like she'd been part of the group for years. She was wearing a tank top and athletic shorts, her legs crossed as she sipped a mug of coffee one of the guys had made for her. She looked completely at ease, laughing softly at something Trevor had just said.

"Morning, sunshine," Jack called out when he spotted Quinn. "You sleep okay on the couch?"

Trevor smirked. "Guess you're more of a gentleman than I thought, letting Hayden have the bed."

Quinn ignored him, heading straight for the coffee pot. "Someone had to make sure you idiots didn't scare her off already."

"We're harmless," Jack said, grabbing a yogurt and joining Hayden at the counter. "Right, Hayden?"

"Sure," she smiled. "Totally harmless."

Trevor licked his lips, setting down his beer. "So, Hayden, what's your deal? You work at a bar, right? Bet you've got some wild stories."

"Plenty," she said easily. "But I'm guessing you don't wanna hear about drunk bachleorette parties or old guys claiming they already tipped me when it's the first time I've ever seen them."

"Come on," Trevor said, flashing her his most charming grin. "What about the weirdest pickup line you've ever gotten?"

"I don't know... probably the guy who told me I had eyes like a mermaid and asked if I wanted to 'swim into his arms.'"

Jack snorted. "That's terrible."

"Right?" Hayden laughed again. "I told him I'd rather drown."

Trevor laughed so hard he nearly spilled his beer. "Okay, that's solid. But what about the best pickup line? You've gotta have one."

Quinn, pouring his coffee, clenched his jaw. He knew where this was going.

Hayden glanced at him briefly. "I don't really go for pickup lines," she shrugged. "If a guy's confident, he doesn't need one."

"Oh, I'm confident," Trevor leaned a little closer.

Hayden smirked. "Good for you, bud."

Quinn's knuckles tightened around his mug as he turned and leaned against the counter. "Shouldn't you save some of that energy for the lake, Trev? Or is embarrassing yourself in the water not enough anymore?"

Trevor shot him a look, but Hayden only smiled, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. "Careful, Hughesy," she said lightly. "You're starting to sound jealous."

Quinn froze, scrambling for a response. "I'm not--"

"She's got a point," Jack interrupted. "You're lookin' a little tense there, Quinny."

"I'm fine!"

Hayden raised her coffee mug to hide her smile, but the damage was already done.

Quinn's nerves were frayed by the end of breakfast. Hayden had slipped easily into the background, chatting with Luke about something or other, but Trevor and Jack were relentless in their interrogation.

"Hayden, what kind of guys do you usually go for?" Trevor asked carefully as they started clearing the plates.

Quinn stiffened, glancing at Hayden out of the corner of his eye. She didnt' miss a beat.

"Hmm. I guess I like guys who can make me laugh."

"That's me!" Trevor said excitedly.

"Right," she said, deadpan. "But I also like guys who know when to quit."

Jack laughed, clapping Trevor on the back. "Ouch! Guess you're out of luck, bud!"

Quinn didn't bother to hide his smirk, but his amusement didn't last long. Trevor wasn't giving up, and Hayden seemed determined to keep sparring with him.

The group wasted no time in dragging all their gear down to the water. Paddleboards, kayaks, and inner tubes littered the dock, and Jack was already trying to wrestle Luke into the water just for the sake of it.

Quinn had just finished setting up a folding chair near the edg of the dock when he caught sight of Hayden emerging from the house.

His brain short-circuited.

She was wearing a simple blue bikini, nothing overly flashy, but it might as well have been haute couture for the way it made his chest tighten. Her hair was loose now, claw clip abandoned, and her sungless perched on her pale nose as she carried a towel in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.

She walked like she owned the place, completely oblivious to how every head on the dock turned her way.

"Jesus, Quinn," Jack grinned. "Where'd you find her?"

Quinn scowled. "Shut up, Jack."

"Hey, Hayden!" Trevor called, waving her over like they were old friends. "You ever paddleboard before?"

Hayden stopped at the edge of the dock, plating her hands on her hips. "Once or twice. Why?"

Trevor pulled a board toward himself. "Because you're about to get a free lesson from the best."

"You mean Luke?" she quipped, smirking proudly.

Trevor clutched his chest like she'd stabbed him. "That hurts. I'm actually really fucking great at this!"

"Uh-huh." Hayden tossed her towel onto a chair, kicking off her sandals. "Fine. Show me what you've got."

Quinn groaned internally as Trevor guided her toward the paddleboard. He tried to focus on adjusting one of the chairs, but his eyes kept returning to Hayden as Trevor "helped" her climb onto the board.

"Keep your knees bent," Trevor said, standing waist-deep in the water beside her. "It's all about balance."

"Got it," Hayden said, adjusting her stance.

"You're a natural," he grinned up at her. Then, with an exaggerated wave of his arm, he tipped her board slightly to the side, sending her wobbling.

Quinn tensed instinctively, stepping toward the edge of the dock, but Hayden quickly recovered, giving Trevor a look that could melt steel.

"Do that again, and you're swimming home with this thing shoved up your ass," she said flatly.

Luke burst out laughing from where he was lounging on an inner tube. "She's not wrong, Trev. You're annoying as fuck."

Trevor ignored him, hopping onto his own paddleboard. "Alright, then. Let's race."

"You're on," Hayden paddled toward the deeper water with ease.

Quinn really wanted to stay out of it, but watching Trevor and Hayden laughing and splashing each other in the middle of the lake was slowly driving him insane. He stood at the edge of the dock, hands on hips like a dad, until Jack strolled over and gave him a knowing look.

"You good, man? You've been standing there glaring at Trevor for five minutes."

"I'm not glaring," Quinn said, moving to cross his arms.

"Sure," Jack said, dragging out the word. "Hey, maybe we should all take turns teaching Hayden how to paddleboard. I mean, I've got skills."

"Don't."

Jack raised his hands in surrender, laughing as he walked away.

~~

Quinn moved from standing to sitting, his feet in the water, when Hayden paddled back toward him. Trevor had abandoned his board by this point, leaving her to float leisurely near the dock.

"Not bad, huh?" she said, smirking as she climbed off the board and into the shallow water.

"You handled yourself," Quinn said, shrugging like it didn't matter.

Hayden raised an eyebrow, stepping closer until she was standing waist-deep in the water in front of him. "You sure you're okay? You've been looking kind of... tense."

"I'm fine," he said, though his shoulders gave him away.

"Right." She reached past him to grab her towel, her arm brushing his in the process. The touch was brief, accidental, but it was enough to send a jolt through him.

"Hayden," Trevor called from the shore, "you wanna head out again? I think I can beat you this time."

Quinn didn't miss how Trevor's eyes flicked down to Hayden's legs as she pushed herself up on the dock, or the stupid grin on his face when she finally looked at him.

"Pass," she waved him off. "I've already proven I'm better than you."

Quinn couldn't help it; he smirked.

As Hayden sat down beside him to dry off, he caught her looking at him through the corner of her eye. "You're glaring again," she mumbled, covering it with a fake cough.

"I'm not."

"Sure..."

Quinn didn't say anything, looking back out over the water. Trying his hardest, and failing, to think of anythingbut how much longer this weekend was going to last.

~~

Dinner was even more chaotic... if that was possible.

The dining table was a mix of empty beer bottles, half-eaten burgers, and bowls of chips scattered across every inch of available surface. Luke and Jack had teamed up on the grill, burning half the patties while Trevor heckled them from his seat. Cole had claimed his spot across from Hayden, watching things unfold with a look on his face that Quinn was starting to resent.

And of course, Hayden--perfectly unbothered--sat at Quinn's right, sipping a beer and laughing at the guys' stupid antics. Quinn tried not to notice how her shoulder brushed his every time she shifted in her seat.

"So, Hayden," Trevor said suddenly, wiping ketchup off his fingers, "we've all been wondering--what's your deal?"

"My deal?" she bit back a smile.

"You know," he leaned foward on his elbows. "What's a girl like you doing hanging out with a guy like Quinn?"

Quinn choked on a sip of water, sputtering into his napkin. "Jesus, Trevor."

"What?" he innocently flashed a grin. "I'm just saying. You're cool, Hayden. You've got, like, a vibe. Quinn's... well. Quinn."

Hayden turned to Quinn, tilting her head dramatically as if evaluating him. "You're right. I could probably do better."

The table erupted into laughter, Jack banging his fist against the table as Trevor fell back in his chair. Quinn groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, though he couldn't stop the smile tugging at his lips.

"See?" Trevor said, pointing at Hayden like she'd just proven his point. "I like her. She's honest."

"Honest, huh?" Hayden smirked, lifting her beer to her lips. "Careful, Z. I don't think you can handle honest."

Trevor was undeterred. "Oh, I can handle honest. Hit me."

"Alright. Honestly? You talk a lot of shit for someone who fell off a paddleboard twice today."

"Hey! The second time didn't count!" Trevor argued, pointing a potato chip at her. "I was distracted."

"By what?"

"By you," he smirked, like he thought he was the smoothest guy ever.

Quinn's hand clenched under the table. He forced himself to take a sip of his drink, trying to mask his irritation.

"Well, don't let it happen again. I'd hate for you to embarrass yourself three times today," she giggled.

Luke snorted into his drink, while Cole howled from the other side of the table.

"I don't embarrass easily."

"Could've fooled me," Hayden said, giving Quinn's thigh a squeeze under the table.

"You're good at this," Jack laughed. "You should come to dinners more often."

"Don't encourage her," Quinn rolled his eyes.

"Oh, come on, Quinny," Jack nudged him with his elbow. "You're just mad she's better at coming up with comebacks than you are."

"Not mad."

"Uh-huh. I'll see it when I believe it, Quinnifer."

~~

Once the plates were cleared and the guys had moved outside to do god-knows-what, Quinn hang back in the kitchen, rinsing dishes just to keep his hands busy. Hayden lingered, drying plates as they were handed to her.

"You sure you're okay, Q?"

"I'm fine," he said, though his jaw was still tight.

"You've been 'fine' all day," she teased. "You sure you don't want to try a different excuse?"

He sighed, setting down the plate he was holding. "They're onto us."

"So? Let them wonder. What's the worst that could happen?"

Quinn stared at her, incredulous. "Are you serious? We're not... dating. I... don't need them knowing about... us."

"You're worried because we're casual? Quinn, I'm sure they've all had flings before."

"But, you--"

"Hayden! Quit flirting with my brother and come play pong!" Jack called from the sliding door.

"Coming!" she pressed a quick kiss to Quinn's cheek before rounding the corner and disappearing out of his sight. Maybe Hayden was going to be the death of him and not this weekend.

~~

The house was finally quiet.

Quinn lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling lit dimly from a lamp in the corner, the soft hum of fridge the only sound he could hear along with the occasional snore from upstairs (Trevor). His pillow was lumpy, the blanket was scratchy, and he'd long given up trying to get comfortable. He wasn't sure how long he'd been lying there, but it felt like hours.

Everyone had settled for the night, laughter and shouting just a ghost of the day now. Trevor had been the last holdout, talking loudly about his plans to crush everyone at volleyball the next day until Jack shoved him up the stairs to the guest room.

Quinn waited until he was sure--absolutely sure--the house was still. Then, as quiet as possible, he swung his legs off the couch, folding the blanket and tossing it over the armrest.

The door to his bedroom creaked slightly as he opened it, and he winced, glancing over his shoulder to make sure nobody had heard. The hallway remained silent, and he slipped inside, shutting the door softly behind him.

Hayden was lying on her side, her back to the door. She was scrolling through her phone, her hair splayed out across the pillow, one of his old t-shirts draped loosely over her frame.

"Took you long enough," she murmured, not bothering to turn around.

Quinn rolled his eyes, tugging his hoodie over his head and tossing it onto his desk chair. "I had to wait for them to fall asleep."

"They're not asleep," Hayden said, her voice low but teasing. "Trevor's probably lying awake right now, trying to figure out if you're sneaking up here or not."

Quinn froze, his hand on the edge of the bed. "He's not."

"Wanna bet?"

He sighed, pulling back the covers and sliding into bed beside her. "If he was, he'd already be at the door making some dumb comment."

"Fair point," she sighed, finally setting her phone on the nightstand and turning to face him. Her eyes gleamed faintly in the low light from the hallway. "Still, you're playing a dangerous game, Quinny."

Quinn propped himself up on one elbow, frowning at her. "I'm not the one who spent the entire day letting Trevor flirt with me."

She smirked. "What was I supposed to do? Tell him to stop? That'd make things way more suspicious."

"You didn't have to encourage him."

"I wasn't encouraging him," Hayden cocked an eyebrow. "I was shutting him down."

Quinn scoffed. "You call that shutting him down?"

"What would you call it?"

"Flirting," he muttered, unable to keep the bite out of his tone.

Her smirk only widened. "You sound jealous."

"I'm not--"

"Relax," her tone softened. "If I wanted Trevor, I'd be in his bed right now."

Quinn stared at her, unsure of how to respond. Her tone was casual, but held a quiet reassurance he hadn't been expecting.

"Besides," she added, shifting onto her back, "he's not my type."

"Yeah? What is your type?"

Hayden turned to look at him, biting her lip to hold back her smile. "You really wanna know?"

"Yeah," he said, his throat dry.

She didn't answer right away, letting the silence stretch between them. Then, finally, she reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against his arm. "Go to sleep, Huggy."

He exhaled a quiet laugh, lying back against the pillow. "Night, Hayden."

If I wanted Trevor, I'd be in his bed right now.

He wasn't sure if that made him feel better or worse... so much worse.

~~

Jack and Trevor had dragged the volleyball net out from the shed, while Luke attempted to detangle it and Cole sat nearby offering unhelpful commentary.

"Hayden, you any good at volleyball?" Trevor asked, tossing the ball lazily in the air and catching it.

Hayden shrugged, standing at the edge of the makeshift court in one of Quinn's t-shirts knotted at her waist. "I can hold my own."

"Perfect! You're on my team then," he said, his grin widening.

Quinn grimaced, adjusting the net. "We didn't even pick teams yet."

"We don't have to," Trevor said, tossing the ball at Hayden, who caught it easily. "I already called dibs."

"Dibs don't count," Jack argued, stepping into the sand. "Besides, I don't trust you not to ruin every single serve she makes."

"Guys," Hayden interrupted. "We can rotate teams."

Jack and Trevor exchanged a look then both shrugged, apparently satisfied.

"Fine," Trevor smirked. "But don't be mad when we crush you."

~~

"Out!" Luke yelled, pointing as the ball bounced into the sand.

Trevor threw his hands in the air. "That was not out!"

"Dude, it was so out," Jack said, shaking his head as he jogged to retrieve the ball.

Meanwhile, Hayden stood at the net, adjusting her ponytail and smiling. Quinn couldn't help but stare, admiring everything from the curve of her neck to how her shorts fit her thighs.

"Q, stop staring and serve the ball!" Jack called.

"I'm not staring," Quinn mumbled, lining up to serve

The next rally was fast-paced, with Jack diving to save a ball and Luke lobbing it back over the net. Hayden held her own, quick on her feet and unflinching as instructions were barked at her.

"Nice hit!" Trevor exclaimed after she spiked the ball, raising his hand for a high-five.

She slapped his palm lightly, her smile easy, but Quinn caught the way Trevor's hand lingered for just a second too long.

"Focus, Trev," he snapped, tone sharper than intended.

Trevor turned to him, eyebrows furrowed. "I am focused. You okay, man?"

"I'm fine."

~~

A few points later, Hayden stumbled as she went for the ball, her foot catching in the sand. Quinn moved without thinking, reaching out to steady her before she could fall.

"You good?" he asked, his hand warm on her arm.

"Yeah," she said, brushing the sand off her leg as she looked up at him. Her eyes get his and the rest of the group seemed to fade away.

"Thanks," she added softly.

"Anytime."

"Alright, lovebirds," Cole called, ruining their moment. "Can we play now?"

Hayden laughed, stepping back to her spot. Quinn shot Cole a glare but didn't respond, his ears burning.

The final play came down to Hayden, Trevor, and Cole on one side, with Quinn, Jack, and Luke on the other.

"Just hit it over," Quinn muttered to Jack, who was already bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Trevor set the ball perfectly, sending it sailing towards Hayden. She jumped, spiking it cleanly over the net and straight into the sand on the other side.

"Game!" Trevor yelled, throwing his arms in the air.

Hayden raised her hands in victory, giggling as Trevor ran over to give her a congratulatory hug. Quinn gaze looked like it could kill as Trevor lifted her slightly off the ground, spinning her once before setting her back down.

"Alright, alright," she said, patting him on the shoulder as she escaped his grasp. "Calm down, Z."

"Can't help it," Trevor said grinning as he turned to Quinn. "You guys put up a good fight, though. Better luck next time."

Quinn didn't respond, heading straight for the water with the ball tucked under his arm.

Hayden watched him go, her smile fading. She didn't follow right away, but when she did, she caught up to him at the water's edge, where he was skimming the ball across the surface.

"You okay?" she whispered, wanting to keep their conversation private.

"I'm fine."

"Still just fine? Because you seemed... tense back there."

"Not tense," he muttered, thought Hayden knew him well enough to know he was lying. She could tell from the tightness in his posture.

"You know you can quit the protective act, right? Trevor's harmless."

Quinn snorted. "Harmless isn't the word I'd use."

She knocked his shoulder with hers. "Chill, babe. You need to be more... zen."

"Zen?"

"Shut up, I'm trying. And... just for the record, you're way more fun to play with."

"Yeah?"

"Duh," she said, her smile teasing. "But don't let it get to your head."

"Noted."

~~

The fire crackled softly, sending soft ambers into the air around it. The group lounged in mismatched deck chairs around the campfire, beers and marshmallows in hand. Luke was poking at the logs with a stick, while Jack balanced on the two back legs of his chair... strongly against Hayden's wishes.

She was curled up in one of the chairs, her legs tucked up to her chest, the glow of the fire casting shadows across her face. Quinn sat across from her, trying--and failing--not to stare at how majestic she looked.

"This is nice," she mumbled, sipping her drink.

"Best part of the trip," Jack agreed.

"Well, second best," Trevor added with a grin.

"Let me guess," Hayden said dryly. "The best part is beating everyone at volleyball."

"You fucking know it!"

Quinn rolled his eyes, taking a long sip of beer.

"Alright, I've got a question for you, Hayden," Trevor giggled to himself, already tipsy.

"Here we go," Cole cackled.

"No, no, it's a good one," he insisted. "If you had to date one of us, who would it be?"

The group erupted into groans and howls of laughter, with Luke flinging a marshmallow at Trevor's head. "Dude, what's wrong with you?"

"What?" Trevor asked, popping the sweet into his mouth. "It's a valid question!"

"Is it?"

"Yes! And you have to answer. It's the rules."

"What rules?" Jack asked with a snort.

Trevor ignored him, looking back at Hayden. "Come on. Hypothetically. Who's your pick?"

Hayden looked around the circle, her lips twitching like she was holding back a laugh. "Hmm," she said, drawing out the word just enough to make Trevor lean forward in anticipation. "I think... I'd pick... Cole."

Cole nearly choked on his s'more. "What?"

"You're the least annoying... I think," she shrugged.

"Fucking brutal," Jack shook his head.

"Good choice," Cole lifted his beer to her in toast.

Trevor pouted. "That's not fair. I'm not that annoying."

"Very debatable," Cole said, earning a hard shove.

Trevor, however, wasn't done.

"Okay, new question. What's the most romantic thing a guy's ever done for you?"

"You're fucking killing me," Luke groaned.

"Just answer the question!"

"Probably this guy who made me tea every morning for a week after my late-night shifts. And he didn't even drink tea himself."

"That's cute," Cole nodded.

Jack frowned. "Quinn doesn't drink tea."

Hayden bit her lip, trying to hide her amusement.

Quinn's cheeks burned as every eye in the group turned to him. "What?"

"Nothing... just making an observation."

"Interesting."

"I think it's time for bed," Quinn said abruptly, standing and brushing the sand from his shorts.

Hayden lingered for a moment, finishing her drink before standing and following him.

~~

Quinn was already lying on "her" bed when Hayden slipped into the room, closing the door softly behind her.

"You okay?"

"You keep asking that."

"Let me guess you're fine?"

"Yup," he said, popping the 'p.'

Hayden shook her head, pulling off her tank top and replacing it with one of Quinn's t-shirts before climbing into bed beside him. "You didn't look fine."

"They're fucking relentless."

"It's their job. They're... feeling out my vibe."

"Trevor sucks dick," he rubbed his hands over his face.

Hayden reached out, running her hand through his hair. "You didn't like his questions?"

"No."

"You're cute when you're worked up, you know that?"

Quinn rolled his eyes, but smiled despite himself. "Go to sleep."

"Fine," she said, rolling onto her back and pulling the covers over her. "For the record, I wasn't lying about the tea."

"Goodnight Hayden," he chuckled.

"Night, Huggy."

Hayden couldn't help but wonder if this weekend was proving that maybe... they weren't meant to just be "friends."

~~

Breakfast passed as normal, Trevor making comments about "volleyball rematch strats" and Jack pestering Hayden about if she'd ever stay for another "family" holiday again. Quinn kept his head down, gritting his teeth through most of it.

By the time they made it down for another round of games in the late afternoon, Quinn was wound so tightly he could feel it in the back of his neck.

And then... Trevor started again.

"Hayden, I think you should be the ref," he said tossing the ball between his hands. "You're way too good at this. It's like totally unfair to the rest of us."

"She's not that good," Quinn said, adjusting the net.

"Oh, come on, Qball. Don't be bitter just because she carried my team yesterday."

Hayden cocked an eyebrow. "I'm standing right here, ya know?"

Trevor smirked. "Trust me, I know."

Quinn felt a rush of heat flood his chest, a sharp pang of jealousy and irritation that he couldn't ignore.

"Alright," he snapped, letting go of the net and stepping back. "Can we just play already?"

"Jeez, man. Relax," Trevor blinked, his grin fading slightly.

"Quinn," Hayden mumbled, but he was already walking toward the house, his jaw set and his fists clenched at his sides

~~

She found him a few minutes later, standing in the kitchen and staring out the window at the water.

"What are you doing?" he exhaled sharply.

Hayden frowned. "What'd you mean?"

"This," he gestured towards the lake. "With Trevor. With all of them. You're enjoying this way too much."

"So what if I am? It's harmless, Quinn."

"It's not harmless," his voice rose. "They're pushing, Hayden. They're asking all these questions, making comments--and you're feeding into it!"

"I'm not feeding into it," she said, her tone defensive. "I'm just... playing along."

"Well... maybe you should stop."

"What's your problem, Hughes?" she narrowed her eyes. "You're the one who agreed to keep this under wraps. I'm just doing what you asked."

"Yeah, well, it's not fucking working. They clearly know."

"So what?" she challenged, stepping closer. "What's the worst that could happen? They find out we're sleeping together? Who cares?"

"I care!" Quinn yelled, his voice echoing off the walls.

Hayden froze, her eyes as wide as saucers.

He sighed. "I care, Hayden. Because this isn't just some game for me. It never has been."

The tension in the room was thick, the weight of his words hanging between them.

"Quinn..."

"You have no idea how hard this has been," he said, his voice low and intense. "Watching them flirt with you, tease you--like you're just some... some random girl I brought along."

"Q..."

"I know we're not serious. Not official," he continued, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I know you don't want anything serious. But you're mine, Hayden. And it's fucking killing me to sit here and pretend that you're not."

Her breath hitched, her eyes locked on his.

"Say something," his voice was rough, almost pleading.

Hayden didn't say anything. Instead, in two quick steps, she grabbed his face and pulled him down into a kiss.

Quinn froze for a quarter of a second before his hands found her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss was hot and urgent, everything that Quinn had been bottling up for months spilling out at once.

They stumbled back toward the counter, Hayden's hands tangling in his hair as he lifted her onto the edge. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer as his lips trailed down her neck, leaving a burning path in their wake.

"Quinn," she whispered, breathless.

He pulled back just enough to look in her eyes. "Tell me this isn't just casual for you."

She stared at him, her lips swollen and her cheeks flushed. "It's not," she admitted. "Hasn't been for a while."

"Good," he murmured, leaning in to kiss her again.

~~

The lay tangled together in his bed, the room quiet except for them both trying to catch their breath, Hayden drawing patterns on Quinn's bare chest with her finger.

He felt lighter than he had in days, the knot in his chest finally loosened... maybe even gone.

"You okay?" she whispered, pressing a kiss to the skin of his pec.

"Yeah, you?"

She tilted her head up, scruncing her nose as he kissed it. "I'm good."

Finally, they could both breathe easy.

~~

Jack and Trevor were already bickering as Hayden headed downstairs in the morning. She paused in the doorway, taking a second to tug the hem of Quinn's hoodie further down her thighs. It was comically oversized on her, the sleeves swallowing her hands, but it was warm and soft, and she hadn't felt like getting dressed into her own clothes.

Her hair was a mess from both sleep and sex, and her skin was flushed in places Quinn's stubble had brushed against the night before. She wasn't even thinking about it was she padded into the kitchen, bare feet against the hardwood floor.

Trevor was the first to notice. Of course.

"Morning, Hayden," he said cheerfully, taking a bite of his eggs. Then his gaze dropped to the hoodie, and his smile widened. "Wait a second. Is that--"

Jack turned, taking in her appearance. "Oh, no way! Is that Quinn's hoodie?"

Hayden blinked, feigning innocence as she grabbed a mug from the counter and poured herself a cup of coffee. "Good morning to you too, Jack."

"Don't 'good morning' me," he pointed the spatula he was using at her. "What is going on here?"

Trevor's eyes flicked to her neck, and his jaw dropped. "Oh my God!"

"What?" she asked, sipping her coffee like nothing was amiss.

Trevor laughed, loud and incredulous, gesturing wildly. "You've got-- Jesus, Hayden."

"You're gonna have to be specific, Trevor."

Jack moved closer, squinting his eyes like he was solving a crime. This his eyes widened. "No fucking way!"

"What?" Luke asked. He followed Jack's gaze and nearly dropped his fork. "Oh, damn."

"What?" Cole said, peeking over Luke's shoulder. His eyes moved from Hayden to the hoodie to her neck, and then to Quinn, who had just walked in from the living room.

Quinn froze, his hair still damp from the shower and a fresh t-shirt clinging to his chest. "What's goin' on?"

Jack and Trevor turned to him in unison, both grinning like maniacs.

"Quinn," Jack started, his voice high-pitched with fake shock. "Care to explain why Hayden is wearing your hoodie and why her neck looks like she lost a fight with a fucking vampire?"

"Can we not do this right now?"

Trevor cackled, doubling over. "Oh, we're absolutely doing this right now."

"Dude," Luke shook his head. "I thought you said nothing was going on."

Cole smirked, "Guess the couch wasn't so comfortable after all."

"Not helping," Quinn shot him a glare.

"Y'all are making a big deal out of nothing," Hayden said, popping a piece of bacon into her mouth.

Trevor pointed at her, smiling like the Cheshire Cat. "Oh, no. This is not 'nothing', Hayden."

"Looks like something to me," Jack wiggled his eyebrows.

"Guys," Quinn's voice was strained. "Can you please just drop it?"

"Oh, come on, Quinny!" Jack nudged him in the ribs. "This is a big moment. You've got a girlfriend now!"

"She's not my--" Quinn started, but Hayden cut him off.

"Careful, Jack," she smirked. "You sound jealous."

Trevor howled with laughter, gripping the counter for support. "She's good. She's so good."

Quinn groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I hate all of you.”

“No, you don’t,” Hayden said lightly, taking another sip of her coffee.

Luke, who had been mostly quiet, finally spoke up. “So, uh... are we gonna talk about this, or are you just gonna keep pretending it’s ‘nothing’?”

“It’s nothing,” Quinn muttered, glaring at his brothers.

“Yeah, sure,” Cole said, smirking. “We believe you.”

Hayden laughed softly, setting her mug down. “Alright, boys. Enough interrogation. Let the man eat breakfast in peace.”

“Fine,” Jack said, holding up his hands. “But this isn’t over.”

Quinn sighed, grabbing a plate and filling it with eggs and toast. He sat down at the table, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

Hayden slid into the chair beside him, her smile softening as she leaned in close enough for only him to hear. “You okay, Hughes?” she asked for the millionth time that trip.

He exhaled a quiet laugh, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “I’m fine.”

“Good,” she said, squeezing his hand three time under the table.

Quinn didn’t look up, but the faint smile tugging at his lips didn’t go unnoticed.

Maybe the chaos was all worth it in the end. Because Quinn Hughes finally had the girl of his dreams.

[meameagirl]

Can you write a Joe fic where you two are messing around playing football and you’re trying to tackle him and vise versa, you have the ball and trying to get away from him?? Just super fun super fluffy🫶🏻🫶🏻

Can’t touch me! —— Joe Burrow

Summary: It’s was during the off season and you and Joe was messing around in his backyard with the football when you challenge him that he can’t tackled you.

Word count: 528

No warning just fluffy

I know it short but enjoy!!

___________

It was about a month before Joe had to start training camp then a new season started for his team. Joe was outside throwing his football and going to pick it up to throw again. You wanted to spend more time with him before football got busy for him. You walk outside in the back yard watching them throw it.

Joe went to pick the ball up when he noticed you standing there and he gave you a confused face. And you lightly smiled at him before walking to him grabbing the ball out of his hands. “I bet you can’t tackle me or take the ball from me.” You teased him. He smirks. “Is that a challenge baby?” He said.

You smirk back nodding. He takes his cap off his head and throws it on the ground. “Challenge accepted.” He gets in position like a defensive player would and he gives you a look. “I give you a five second head start so it is fair on you.” He told you. You hold the ball tight. As you take a few steps back, he didn’t even give you the five second head start.

He ran after you and you made a cute sound before running away. “Cheater!” You yelled out. He tries to grab your waist but you manage to duck under his arms. You giggled when you did that and he turned to you. You make sure to keep space, you run to one the outside couch and stay behind it. He reaches it and looks at you. “That is not gonna save you.”

Then he jumps over it and you take off again, he almost grabs you when you juke him and he slips. “You watch my games too much, to learn that.” He said as he got up. He took a few steps to you and you ran away again this time dropping the ball. He looks at the ball then at you. He slowly smirks before going after you again. He didn’t care about the ball anymore.

But this time he wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up. He spins you around holding you tight. “ Got you,” He whispered. You lightly kick your feet in front of you. Soon he sets you down and spins you so facing him “ good thing not a defensive player you suck at it.” You told him and he made a fake sad face. “Attacking my ego now. Good thing you are not a player because that was a fumble the other team would have scored already.” He said. You slap his chest lightly but he hands and pulls you close.

You stare up at him as he smiles before he leans down and kisses you. Once you pull from him. And he picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder. “JOE” You scream out. He let out a chuckle. “You know I can teach you a thing or two from a playbook just won’t be football teaching kind.” He teases. “It would be you and me in bed all night.” He said low. You hit his back as he brings you into his house.

[earthtooz]

x : CHANGE YOUR MIND ! :*+ﾟ

in which: it's 2 am and itoshi sae is outside your door, hoping for a second chance.

warnings: 1.2k words, angst to fluff with hurt/comfort, happy ending, exes to lovers, not at all realistic but it's itoshi sae ok and we're delusional, ooc!sae

a/n: second second chance romance fic for sae LOL he's just too easy to write for when it comes to exes to lovers. idk why the banner is so low quality but enjoy!

you wonder where itoshi sae finds the nerve. after breaking up with you six months ago ‘for the sake of his career’, you never thought sae would have the gall to show up at your apartment, let alone at 2am, rudely disrupting your sleep.

yet, here he is. a soccer prodigy and superstar in the flesh, standing under the harsh lighting of your apartment hallway that always casts an ugly glow on everyone except sae.

“what are you doing here?” you ask, gripping the door handle a little tighter.

“i just got off the plane,” he answers, evading your question. 

“i know. i can see your suitcases.”

he doesn’t say anything more after that. before the breakup, you were able to read the untouchable itoshi sae, translating his stiff silences into words he could never say but wholeheartedly mean, breaking through his ego to then understand the messages of his heart. he only hopes that you can interpret the one he’s brought to you right now.

“can i come in?” asks the athlete, his question shy and lacking the usual demand that sits in his tone.

still, you furrow your eyebrows and stand your ground. “why on earth would i let you in?”

softness is a weapon that itoshi sae owns. he knows that with his typical hardened exterior the best way he can get through people sometimes is with pliability. even you have fallen for it.

he frowns, “because i’m tired and i want to sleep.”

“don’t you have your own five star hotel that your manager booked for you?” 

“can i just come in?”

the nerve. “itoshi, please leave.”

“i will, i will, but will you hear me out first?”

“what could you possibly have to say that you didn’t befo-”

“-i love you.”

the world stills.

the air around you becomes delicate and you’re too scared to breathe in fear of disrupting the silence, but it feels like the floor beneath you just crumbled and you’re falling through the debris. you’re falling and the only thing you can do is search for sae in the chaos. 

but you don’t hold on to him. no, not this time.

“that’s not fair, that’s not fair at all, sae, you can’t-” a sob tears your words apart, “-you can’t break my heart then come back six months later to tell me that you apparently love me, do you know how hard it was for me to just- ugh!”

in a fit of exasperation, you leave your post at the door and retreat back into your apartment. sae quietly slips through the crack you left open, closing the door with a soft click and you don’t even have the energy to chase him out. he even left his suitcases outside- not that anyone would take them at 4 in the morning. 

“you left me so abruptly and carelessly. we were together for almost a year, sae, yet you threw me aside, called me a burden and moved on with a snap of your fingers! was it easy? moving on like that?” 

instead of flinching at your yelling, sae simply stands at the entrance and accepts it, letting your words prick his skin and sink into him as if would make up for the pain you’ve been bathing in. 

“do you know what that did to me?” your voice is quiet now, turned down a few notches. 

he knows. he knows that you’ve been trying to get over it and not let the breakup impact your life too much, despite what he did. you’ve been going out with friends, treating yourself to everything you deserve, and finding a peace that he’s proud of you for. but sae also knows about the many nights you’ve spent crying and being sensitive to loving again, he hears about all of it from rin who lectured him when he first broke up with you and most likely, will lecture him again when he hears about sae’s unplanned visit.

sae was stupid and naive, but you were the first person he ever loved, and the world is colourless without your splash of influence. 

sae knows he shouldn’t be here existing in your space after everything, however, the instant he stepped off the plane, the first thing his heart wanted was to see one of the few things he loves about japan, you. 

“-so, please, just leave me alone and don’t come back,” you request.

the last thing sae is good at is following instructions, especially ones he doesn’t like.

“but, i love you,” he tries again. you fall to the couch with a defeated sigh, his persistence impaling your heart. 

“stop it.”

somehow, he’s now standing beside you. “do you still love me too?”

“sae-”

“-if you don’t love me anymore i’ll leave.”

with your head in your hands, you lie to him, “i don’t want you to stay either way.”

“another chance, i’ll make it right, i’ll fix it with my life, y/n, just please say you love me too.” 

“you’ll hurt me again.”

“i won’t,” he falls down onto the couch beside you, enveloping you with his frame. “i’ll be good and you can kill me if i’m not.”

you laugh. it’s dry and reserved, but you’re laughing and he begins rocking you side to side. “i don’t want to kill you.”

“rin will, then.”

you take your face out of your hands, looking at him properly for the first time since he arrived. “i-i don’t know, sae. you’ll leave again when you decide that you don’t want me.”

he doesn’t know how to tell you that whilst abroad, all he could think about was you. that during the mundane chores, the tedious trips to and from training, and all the times that he had won a match, he was thinking about you. 

he thought about you in the music he played whilst cleaning, he thought about taking you to a restaurant he saw whilst on the way, and his thoughts about you are loudest when he has a medal around his neck yet all he wants to know is whether or not you’re watching.

but you’re not beside him singing along whilst he was mopping his floors, you weren’t there in his car pointing out every fun detail you saw, and he didn’t even know if you wanted anything to do with soccer after what him. 

everytime, the yearning for you would grow, to the point that it lead him here when he should have gone to the hotel to wash up and sleep off the tiring trip instead.

but sitting here now and looking at your tear-stained face, he knows he’ll always prefer you- he’ll always find and choose you, so long as you let him. 

“give me another chance,” and i’ll show you that i’ll never leave again.

“fine,” you surrender after a moment of silence and sae feels like he could jump to the moon. “but we take things slow-”

“-i love you,” he repeats, grabbing your face and pushing you down on the couch, peppering an endless stream of kisses on your skin. sae’s outburst of affection and happiness is uncharacteristic but contagious. “i love you, i love you, i love you.”

between each declaration is sae kissing a new part of your face, showering your cheeks, forehead, nose- everywhere with unbridled adoration that he has been keeping locked up for too long. you’re real between his hands, you’re real in his hold, you’re real beneath him, and he doesn’t want this dream to end. his kisses feel like healing promises and you melt right into them. 

“i get it!” you giggle out, hands on his shoulders as to wrestle him off. “you don’t need to keep telling me, and promise me that we’re going to take it slow-”

a cold tear slides down your cheek, silencing your giggles. it’s not you who’s crying though, so you hug sae a little tighter.

something tells you that this second chance won’t backfire.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[piscespetals]

summary: in which sevika becomes your boss at The Last Drop

content: this fic is another multi-chapter work! i hope you enjoy.

content warning for this fic: depiction of sa (this chapter only), blood, slight gore/fight scenes, cursing, sexually explicit content. pretty heavy topics to be honest, it makes a lot of commentary on how it's like to live in Zaun. since this chapter has an sa scene (very lightly detailed scene but still hints to it), if you would like to skip that part, there will be three asterisks (***) that indicate when the scene begins and when it stops so that you can do what's safer for you. sa will not be talked about alot in depth for the rest of the chapters, and i will give a content warning to chapters that hint or reference it.

word count: 3k

thanks for reading!

Part One

When you are first hired at the Last Drop, it only takes 4 hours for Sevika’s name to circulate the building and make its way towards you. 

The first time you spot her, she is brushing through a crowd of drunkards, seemingly not wanting to be approached with an expression as hard as stone. The tall woman, attractive and large as she may be, is intimidating. Her figure, although only in your line of vision for a few seconds, is something made of pure muscle and height. You know that she could easily tower over you if she wanted. 

Despite her quick and fast entrance, it only takes your first day to realize that Sevika isn’t someone that you fuck around with. And based on the way that your coworkers and supervisors tense at the mere mention of her name, it’s obvious that she’s someone important here.

Throughout your first month at the Last Drop, any other appearances of Sevika is no different. Her steel cold stare could freeze anyone to death. You’ve seen her drag people upstairs only for them to never come back down (who knows what she or Silco did with the body?). You’ve seen the way she dominates the deadliest men–how she doesn't let them silence her. 

How she challenges them…

You've also seen the way that your coworkers have gotten their heart broken, hoping to be the one-night-stand turned lover that changes Sevika’s promiscuous ways. And every time, your coworkers end up heartbroken. Gender doesn’t really seem to matter with Sevika. She’s ruthless with everyone. She’s mean.

And, God, you really hate how much you like mean women.

At first, you thought it was amusing to be pining after her. It isn’t surprising, since you've had your fair share of passionate romances (and heartbreaks) with people similar to Sevika. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you can’t seem to stay away from them.

But now it’s been over a month and you can't help but wonder when the crush will dissipate. At this point, it's entirely inconvenient.

You've managed to keep yourself out of the limelight for the majority of your time at the Drop. You’ve found your rhythm by staying in the kitchen, away from the wandering eyes of questionable strangers. Away from Sevika.

But that only lasts for so long.

Amy, your boss, manages to shatter your Switzerland bubble on a Thursday evening at noon. It’s exactly the last thing you want to hear: “I need you to swap schedules with Janessa,” Amy barks.

It isn’t a suggestion or question. It’s a demand. 

Your mouth opens to object, already feeling that familiar pang of agitation within you. But Amy doesn’t hang around long enough to hear. 

“Thanks!” She calls over her shoulder, briskly walking behind the counter and towards the kitchen.

Your teeth grind and your jaw clenches. With balling fists, you stand there for a few more minutes. Trying to simmer down. Trying not to get fired.

You cook. You make new recipes. You may even help the dishwashers every once in a while (especially on nights that are packed). 

But you don’t buss and you don’t wait. That’s Janessa’s ballpark. She’s known as one of the best waiters in town. Her reputation followed her as she hopped in between different restaurants before landing at The Last Drop for good. She’s usually quick, efficient, polite but not too polite (no one ever could be considering the kind of people that this job attracts). 

The idea of Janessa swapping places with you in order to cook an overwhelming amount of food under the pressure of constant verbal abuse? That doesn’t sound right. 

Well, it doesn’t sound like something she would willingly do.

“I tried to help you out,” Max, your coworker, whispers. He clicks his tongue while washing down the countertop of the bar. You forgot that you were holding a conversation with him before Amy interrupted. “I overheard her talking to Nessa about it and offered the swap.” Max blinks through his thick lashes, which are covered with clumps of purple mascara, before he makes eye contact with you. “The bitch told me I wasn't qualified. Can you believe it?”

You snort underneath your breath, nearly choking at the idea of such a conversation happening.

Max—a petite curly-haired himbo with stunning hazel eyes and nails long enough to claw your heart out—most certainly isn't a popular bartender due to his ability to mix drinks. He has charisma, a charming personality and a smile that can make anyone stop in their tracks. He’s willing to listen to anyone that needs a shoulder to cry on (which is almost always every regular that comes here),  and he doesn’t mind sucking up to Amy as long as it means that he has full control of the bar. He’s been employed here long before Amy’s time, which you truly believe is his saving grace.

He knows the history, the neighborhood— the business very well.

But mixing drinks? Not his strong suit.

Seeing him out on the level ground with numerous tables to handle would be comical. A train wreck for sure, but definitely comical.

“Did she say why Nessa was swapping?” Self consciously, you peer at the rest of the pub over your shoulder. Everyone is seemingly out of earshot but it doesn’t hurt to be sure.

Max’s shoulders tense. He stops his scrubbing, right hand still holding onto his soaked disinfecting cloth as he sends you a sidelong glance. “Not my place to tell.”

The hairs stand up on your arms as you register his reply.

The sound of the entrance door opening is what shatters your reverie. Just like that, Max’s shoulders relax. A smile spreads across his face, this time not quite reaching his eyes, as he looks towards the door. “Welcome to The Last Drop!” He says, voice dipping into that flirtatious cadence you know all too well.

That is all he is going to say on the matter. You know Max doesn’t like gossiping about people’s shit. And your coworkers definitely have a lot of messy situations throughout their employment here. He wants no relation to any of it. 

You pick up on the hint, instead swallowing your curiosity and looking at the incoming customer. It’s one of the workers from the brothel across the street. She’s a leggy brunette with towering stilettos and a resting bitch face as cold as stone. She’s just as unapproachable as the last time you saw her. But there’s a spark in her eye when she regards Max. Based on her last few visits, you’ve grown to learn that she’s taking a liking to him.

“Well, that's my cue. I’ll leave you to…do your thing,” You mumble, fighting off a smirk. Max peers at you with a quizzical expression as you gesture vaguely to the bar around you. “Or whatever nonsense you do up here…”

“Hmph,” He rolls his eyes. “Shouldn't you be back there making shepherd's pie or something?”

“You mean working? Something you're not familiar with, I’m sure.”

“With a face card like this? I’m too fabulous to work.” He winks before gesturing towards his face. “A reality you're not familiar with, I’m sure.”

A laugh erupts out of you as you click your tongue. You’re walking towards the kitchen, ready to clock out for the day and finally rest, when you hear the lady of the night approach the bar. You believe her name to be Scarlett, and her voice is a low and silky murmur while she addresses Max.

When you glance over your shoulder, you can't help but notice the way her cleavage spills over her frilly corset top. Her braids are pulled into a bun on top of her head, eyes alluring as she peers at Max through thick long lashes.

Too caught up in all the glamor that Scarlett is, you walk right into a nearby wall (because that is unfortunately what happens whenever beautiful women are near you). 

Max and Scarlett immediately glance at you. Max, with that all-knowing smirk, and Scarlett's raised eyebrow is enough to make you want to dig yourself a grave.

But you don't. Instead, you clear your throat, apologize and shuffle to the kitchen with haste.

The air is thick with cigarette smoke.

That’s one of the reasons why you hate waiting. 

You don’t mind occasionally working in such an atmosphere. After all, you are one of the few chefs that regularly make an appearance everyday. So you’ve grown accustomed to walking through the boisterous crowds of smokers and drunken belligerents before and after your shifts.

But then, for the rest of the shit, you usually find solace in the kitchen—swallowed by plates and dishes and food and ingredients—which is more your forte.

“Hey pretty lady,” A bald, greasy buff man grumbles. His eyes are set on you yet simultaneously far away. Out of focus. “I’m getting hungry. Why don't you come over here and serve me?” Then he winks with a shit-eating grin that makes you queasy.

“You're not in my section,” You reply dryly with a shrug. “But I'll let Dylan know that you're ready to order.” 

“I don't want Dylan,” His eyes linger on your chest, before trailing down your entire physique. It's almost as if he allows his entire train of thought to become visible for everyone to read. 

Your teeth grind as you quickly scan the room once more. Dylan said that he was stepping out for a 5 minute smoke break 40 minutes ago. 

There's a part of you that doesn't want to give in. You don't mind being the one coworker that won't take on more tables than absolutely necessary. Especially when you were voluntold to switch job roles with someone you barely even know, and without even being told why.

If it wasn't so hard to find a job lately, you're pretty sure Amy’s management within itself would be enough encouragement for you to quit. But you really, really need the money. Despite the toxic work environment and occasional harassment from drunk citizens, this is the closest you've come to financial stability in years. You can’t afford to fuck it up.

A heavy exhale leaves you as you shift your feet. “Have you had a chance to look over the menu?” You ask, eying the man with distaste.

His grin widens. “No. What do you suggest?”

“Well, we offer a lot of stuff really. If you're in the mood for something more fulfilling, we have different stew dumplings. I'm not sure about your allergies though, most of the stews here are made with—”

“Surprise me,” Then he gives you another once over.

There is a part of you, a small part, that's tempted to reach across the table and rip out his eyes. You hate the feeling you experience when men unabashedly undress you with their eyes; especially when it’s from creepy old men. 

Even more so when said men don't know how to respect boundaries.

But you ignore the idea of doing such a thing. Instead, you turn on your heels and walk away.

Or, at least, you try to walk away. 

***

A tight grip wraps around your wrist, pulling so abruptly that you nearly fall over. It happens so fast that you barely register it. A breath, hot and pungent with liquor, travels across the base of your neck before meeting your nose. “You didn't ask me if I wanted anything to drink.” The man adds, voice low and gravelly.

Then more is happening...Something hot and wet presses against your throat. Lips. Tongue. Teeth.

Within seconds, you're reaching for your knife, which you had previously placed inside the pocket of your apron. 

A fire courses through your veins as you retract the blade.

“What the fuck!” The man yells, letting go of your wrist. He presses a palm against his right cheek, which now has a wide gash that is gushing with blood.

***

You don't give him time to do anything else. Your elbow comes in contact with his throat, jabbing his windpipe with as much force as possible. He staggers from the impact, landing with his back on top of the table behind him as he gasps for air.

Your knife, now dripping with his blood, digs into his chest. You hold it there, watching him wince when you apply pressure.

“If you ever so much as breathe in my direction again,” You mutter darkly. He’s squirming uncomfortably, a pool of blood soaking through his shirt as your knife continues to pierce his chest.

The pub has grown eerily silent and the heavy weight of countless eyes begins to register.

“I…I-I,” The man underneath splutters in shock. Beads of sweat gather around his forehead as he peers up at you through a cloud of fear. Thirty minutes ago, you’d have been surprised to find him roughed up by someone half his size, especially considering how large his biceps are. 

But then again, The Last Drop seems to be filling up with tons of useless goons nowadays.

“We’ll deal with him.” The voice that breaks your reverie is unrecognizable—feminine and raspy. 

That's when your head snaps up and you realize just how tense the atmosphere has become. Many citizens watch you silently, some mouths ajar while others look ready to egg you on. It's never really a typical Friday night at this place without people trying to drunkenly fight each other.

It's rare, though, that employees become the main culprit.

Something moves closer to you—a person. “Hey, it's alright. I-”

Still on edge, you're quick to react. You inhale sharply, grip tightening around your knife with reflexes that feel like second nature.

A low growl fills the air, the sound of metal colliding with metal following soon after. Then your blade is being knocked out of your hand, something powerful grabbing both of your arms.

A flash of grey, the smell of cigarillo. Warmth.

“Woah, it's just me." The voice is so close, yet so far away.

"Look-" Then, "Maxwell, I need you to come and help." The voice speaks again. This time even firmer. A woman’s voice. 

When your vision adjusts, you lock gazes with a pair of stormy grey irises. They're merely inches from yours, peering down at you with a gaze that is steady. 

That's when you realize that you can't move because she's practically towering over you. Restraining you.

It’s Sevika.

You must have tried to attack her, clearly caught off guard. Surely, you hadn't meant to. For a split second, you lost it and now here she comes, seemingly out of nowhere. It was merely a reflex—a fight or flight response.

“Listen," She says. "I'm having them take him upstairs. He’ll be dealt with,” She repeats everything as if it's a promise. She searches your eyes, grip loosening around your arms, “I’ll make sure of it.” She adds. Despite her expression being made of steel, there's something that flickers in her eyes. It appears only for a millisecond but it's glaring enough to somehow recenter you.

Her shoulders appear to relax when you start to feel present in the room again.

She waits for you to reply. And waits.

And waits.

And waits some more.

Then, “I can handle myself,” Is all that you manage to say. 

She stares at you for longer. You can see the gears in her brain shifting, but you aren't exactly sure of what to anticipate next, or even how to accept the fact that you just tried to attack your boss with a pocket knife.

“I’ve got her,” This time, the source is coming from someone familiar. Max. “It's okay,” He whispers, drawing closer. You feel him before you see him. The tips of his claw-like nails brush against your shoulders as he gingerly grabs a hold of you. 

Only then is when Sevika breaks your gaze, this time turning to Max. “Staff lounge.” The brute woman orders. 

“I’m fine.” You counter. 

The edge in your voice says otherwise.

“...Then I need you to grab Amy,” She continues, completely disregarding you. “I would like to know why we have a chef waiting tables during the busiest rush of the week—”

“I don’t need to go anywhere,” You press, voice raising a few decibels.

Sevika jaw’s clenches, icy eyes flickering towards you. “You nearly decapitated someone. You—”

“...I have four hours left. I will leave when my shift is complete.”

Her nose flares. “Lounge. Now.”

Before you can reply, she’s turning on her heels and walking away.

Unfortunately, Max agrees with Sevika.

It’s apparent in the way he immediately grabs your shoulders after her departure. Every citizen seems to be watching the entire escapade because this is the quietest you’ve ever heard the pub be during a rush hour.

“I’m fine!” You hiss, frustrated by the whole ordeal. You are perfectly capable of defending yourself. You don't need staff members to coddle you. “Seriously.”

Max doesn’t reply, merely huffing underneath his breath as he guides you past the bar and towards a back hallway that leads to another room. 

When the two of you have reached the lounge, he finally says, “You're shaking.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “What?”

He leans forward, grabbing both of your hands,“ You're shaking.” He repeats, looking at you dead in the eyes. That's when he lets go and you peer down at your palms.

A frown spreads across your lips at the sight of your trembling fingers.

“You nearly killed the guy,” Max continues. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”

“It was only self-defense.”

“I'm not saying you were in the wrong,” A flicker of worry meets Max’s eyes. “That asshole deserves everything you did to him, probably more, But,” He winces. His gaze trails off to a distant place behind you. “Chef’s don’t usually do what you just did.”

Before you can reply to Max, the door flings open. In walks the petite redhead that you instantly knew to be Amy. She’s light on her feet, eyes alert and face flushed. At first, you’re surprised to see her in such a state. 

Shortly, though, Sevika enters the room. Then it all makes sense.

Sevika’s domineering in all aspects and has a ferocious air about her that can make anyone feel...tense. 

You thought she was the last of it, but another pair of footsteps walk-in behind her. 

“S-Sorry,” The person stammers, side stepping so they can scurry around Sevika and find a chair to sit in. The person is Dylan.

“This won't take long,” Sevika announces. She seems annoyed, not even looking at anyone else in the room. “Starting tomorrow, nothing about tonight will be brought up again. Now, Amy.” She turns to Amy, who instantly shrinks in her chair. “Why wasn't Janessa on the floor tonight?”

There's a beat of hesitation before, “She's working the kitchen now.”

Sevika’s nose flares. “If you moved her because of last week, I want you to think over your explanation very carefully.”

Another beat drags. Amy blinks. She gapes. She blinks once more. Her cheeks are tomato red at this point. “I-”

Sevika presses on. “Did Silco somehow change his mind?” 

“...No.”

“So you deliberately went against Silco’s orders and switched Janessa to the kitchen. Meanwhile,” Sevika’s eyes flicker to you. Your stomach lurches. “You make our only competent chef work the floor, after I told you that she isn't up for debate. And you expect me to show you mercy?”

Amy doesn't answer. She's on the verge of tears, which shocks you.

Amy is a bitch.

She’s known for brutally reaming people for simply breathing wrong. She doesn’t hold back and she doesn’t mind doing it in front of customers either. You know her to be stone cold. Heartless. Void of compassion and depth.

You never thought that you’d see the day where she’d get her ass handed to her.

Sevika turns to you, face filled with hard lines and calculating orbs. She stares at you for a few moments. You don't quite understand if she’s sizing you up or mentally chastising you. But you wait for her to fully collect her thoughts.

“If anyone touches you like that again,” She slowly begins, voice low. “You do what needs to be done. Whatever that means to you. Do you understand?” 

Your muscles freeze at her words.

No questioning? No reprimands?

“You aren't mad?” You clear your throat.

You were fully expecting to be reamed for tonight.

Sevika raises an eyebrow, “Do you want me to be?”

Heat spreads across your body. You don't answer her question, deciding to move on. “Does Silco know about tonight?”

She grows more perplexed, “Do you want Silco to know?”

In the corner of your eye, you watch how stiff the rest of the staff members become. The room is so quiet that you nearly hear a pin drop.

It’s obvious that Silco finding out about this would cause a shit show.

Sevika takes your silence as an answer. 

“None of this will be mentioned again after tonight.” She breaks eye contact and turns to the rest of the room. “Is that clear?”

Everyone nods.

“And Dylan?”

Dylan jumps at the sound of his name. “Huh? I mean, yes? Y-Yes, ma’am?”

“If you disappear for that long again, you won't have a job to come back to.”

“Yes, ma’am. I-I mean,” Dylan blinks with swimming eyes. “Sorry.”

Sevika chooses then to shove her human hand into her pocket, glancing at you once more. When she retracts it, you notice that there is something shiny and silver that she's holding.

Your knife.

Silently, she holds it towards you. 

When your feet stay planted—brain struggling to process everything that's happening—she exhales heavily, evidently becoming impatient.

Clearing your throat, you force yourself to close the distance. You grab your knife, knuckles grazing her palm, which ignites a static shock. Your fingers jump away from her instantly. If the skin contact startled her, her face doesn’t give it away.

“Thank you,” Is all that you say. You hate how vulnerable you sound.

She merely nods. Then, “He's upstairs, by the way. Definitely suffering from what you did to him but not harmed any further." She pauses, rubbing her lips together. "Did you want to come upstairs? It's your call on how you would like him to be handled."

You eyes widen at the realization.

She took him upstairs to do god know what (everyone knows that if Sevika takes you upstairs for any other reason than discussing business, then you probably aren't coming back down). You'd never thought she would include employees in such a thing.

Even with a matter such as this.

"I'll give you ten minutes to think about it," She continues on. "If you decide to come upstairs, he'll be waiting. Otherwise, go home. Tomorrow you'll return to the kitchen.” Then she turns on her heels, adding, “Amy, I expect your desk to be cleaned out by midnight.” Before she walks away. 

In the midst of her departure, your eyes begin to burn. 

Max and Dylan are already stepping out of the room, completely shaken up by the entire situation.

Being reprimanded by Sevika is never on anyone’s bucket list.

You idle there for a while, letting all of the events replay in your mind as your muscles start to unspool. Fidgeting with your knife, you allow the blade to extend. That’s when you notice that his blood has been cleaned off and your blade sharpened.

Amy wails pathetically while curling into herself. 

Her cries are nothing more than brown noise at this point. You're too preoccupied by the hammering of your heart, and the way that Sevika’s words have tattooed themselves onto your hippocampus:

If anyone touches you like that again, you do what needs to be done.

[rrxnjun]

where do broken hearts go? [lmk]

you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader

genre: exes to lovers. angst, fluff.

wc: 12k (11.926)

warnings: mention of sex, weed and alcohol, heartbreak, swearing, park jihoon of treasure is one sassy bitch and also accidentally somehow the main character of this fanfic plz dont @ me, inconsistent writing style bc i took 3 months and 3 depressive episodes to finish this fic

playlist: where do broken hearts go - one direction / too good to say goodbye - bruno mars / everytime - ariana grande / closer - waterparks / tornado warnings - sabrina carpenter / survive the night - the boyz

a/n: hey do some of you still remember me..... AHAHA tell a friend to tell a friend rrxnjun is BACK! this fic isn't the ideal vision i had in my mind but we are working on not being so hard on ourselves with our writing so! here we are. i still kind of like it :,)

When you walk up to your best friend’s apartment one day with a tub of ice cream under your arm and the biggest pout on your face, Park Jihoon makes a complete list of things you should do to get over your failed relationship with Mark Lee. And while you think your dear friend has some psychopathic tendencies sometimes, you’d say the list is actually pretty reasonable of him. 

There’s something about the five simple steps that makes you wonder if it’s really as easy as Jihoon makes it sound. And while you doubt it– because the pinging pain in your heart makes it seem like the heartbreak is truly going to kill you in a few minutes if you don’t do something about it– you give it a try, because come on… you’d do anything to not feel like this ever again.

Step one – cry it out.

“He was a cunt anyway,” Jihoon mutters as he steps into the living room with two spoons in his hands, throwing one of them to you– while almost managing to hit you in the middle of your forehead in the process, adding a concussion to the mix of problems you have going on right now– and you find yourself furrowing your brows at his hateful comment.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, as your best friend, I’m supposed to be on your side, no?” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa next to you, watching as you wrap one of the thick blankets you got for the male around your figure– you bought it mainly for yourself, because his apartment is cold as a freezer and you knew he wouldn’t buy one for you to use in the first place– and shrugs. “Besides, he broke your heart, and any male who does that is a cunt in my eyes.”

“I broke up with him,” you mourn, “so I broke my own heart,” you snicker, despair fully filling you up from the inside– fitting everywhere into your lungs and choking you up from how bad you truly feel. Now, this isn’t your first breakup– you’ve had your fair share of boyfriends in high school (in your baddie era, as Jihoon called it), but Choi Yeonjun from Maths class and Jung Woonyoung, the guy you dated for a total of 2 months over the summer break before he moved away, weren’t exactly boys you found yourself falling in love with. Sure, you liked them, you kissed them and went on dates with them– hell, you even hooked up with Yeonjun once before you realized the relationship truly wasn’t for you– but no one managed to cave into your heart just as much as Mark Lee, your first college boyfriend did.

“But you sure had a reason for it, come on!” Jihoon huffs, taking the tub of ice cream from your hands and opening it for you, since you’ve gotten quite weak from the lack of sleep and nutritions ever since the break up, hands clammy and not cooperating. “You don’t just break up with someone to break your own heart. He did that, that’s why you said goodbye to him,” he says before sitting the enormous tub of ice cream between your two bodies, nudging you to dig into the frozen delicacy.

“Yeah, but–”

“No buts, young lady. We are here to make you forget you ever even dated Mark Lee, so open up, eat the ice cream and focus your attention on Titanic so you can finally cry it out,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you’d think he’s angry with you. Jihoon has this aura around him that makes you think he’s always at least a little annoyed at everything– but he told you to not mind it and that it’s just his sassy bitch attitude. 

He does have a point, though. You broke up with Mark because he broke your heart first– there was no other reason for it. If it was something minor, something small, you were sure you could work on it. You have, numerous of times before, brought up something and had a mature conversation about it– something you always so admired about Mark, being so cautious and understanding when navigating problems in the relationship– but when you bring up the same thing over and over, and it never gets fixed despite him telling you he’ll try harder next time, you think you’re allowed to feel a little heartbroken at his nonexistent efforts. And that’s exactly why you decided to quit the relationship– after a while, you felt like you were putting in more effort than he was, effectively making you feel like he’s not even that interested in dating you in the first place.

First, he just told you he was forgetful. He forgot he promised to pick you up from class one day– and you said that it’s okay, he is busy, after all– and it was the first time it happened, so you didn’t really mind that much, truly. Then, he forgot about the date you scheduled– but it was fine, because you didn’t have reservations anyway, you could change the day to any other day of the week, after all. He kept forgetting the stuff you told him in between the conversations you shared– and it was small things, you understand, but sometimes, you wondered if he was ever really listening to you at all. 

Forgetful soon turns not interested in your eyes, and when he doesn’t call you in the evening like he promised he would, when he doesn’t show up to the party you invited him to, because he forgot it was that day, you’re one step closer to calling it quits, because each and every one of these situations sends a sharp pain into your stomach. The last straw was just last week, though– and realistically, it was an important day, as much that you thought the day is somehow gonna fix everything, but the truth is somewhere completely else as Mark Lee forgets about your one year anniversary and never shows up at your doorstep for the dinner you prepared for the two of you like he promised he would. 

And it doesn’t click in him two days after either– you don’t even get a text. He got so forgetful over time that he forgot about you completely, and that’s when you took an uber to his place and broke up with him for good.

And even though the breakup was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt yourself go through, Jihoon is right– you’re not the one that broke your own heart. Mark Lee did that for you many times before, and this was just the breaking point.

“Fucking hell, you bought cookies and cream again?” Jihoon huffs when he takes another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the sweet taste. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you wipe your left cheek as you hum, immune to his nagging by now.

“You know I hate cookies and cream!”

“You know, Hoon, I bought this for myself. When you’re the one that’s heartbroken, we’ll share your favorite ice cream flavor instead,” you mumble, munching on the coldness on your tongue, sniffling a little when your eyes avert to the TV screen.

And after that, the teasing from your best friend’s side stops. Maybe it’s just because he hates to see you cry– and he rarely gets the chance, if you’re being honest, since you’re pretty good at handling your emotions– but you secretly know that it’s because when he looks back at the TV screen in front of the two of you, the sad part of the movie hasn’t even started yet and the tears are not the result of the movie, but of your own thoughts instead.

Step two – give him back all of his stuff and the stuff he’s given you that reminds you of him. Demand that he does the same.

Now, step two was a thing most couples do when they break up. Realistically, it makes sense– you wouldn’t want stuff that’s not yours just laying around, and also, it’s just bound to remind you of the person you lost. Naturally, you’d want to return it.

“Why does he have to return my things as well?” you mutter under your breath as Jihoon helps you fold all Mark’s hoodies into a cardboard box, alongside with wrapping the little things your ex boyfriend made out of ceramic for you in tissue paper like you asked him to– even though he complained and said that it shouldn’t matter to you if they break, because you are the heartbroken one– but you held those little things too close to your heart to let them get damaged in the first place.

“Because that’s how it works,” Jihoon hums, watching as you throw another one of Mark’s shirts onto the top of his head, shielding his vision. “What, you don’t want your stuff back?”

“I mean…” you mumble, deeply considering of the fact that the thought of getting your stuff back didn’t even cross your mind until now, before you realize your favorite pair of socks is thrown somewhere in Mark’s drawers– the blue ones with peaches on them– and you suddenly have the revelation that while you don’t necessarily need the stuff back, you’d love to wear those socks again. “I guess…” you note as you walk over to Jihoon and take a glance into the full cardboard box, looking over the stuff and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“It’s like witchcraft, y’know,” Jihoon points out, looking at you with fierce eyes mirroring the stupid idea that just flashed through his brain, “if you don’t exchange the things, a piece of you is still kept at his apartment and you won’t be able to move on.”

And again, Park Jihoon does have psychopathic tendencies, but he may be onto something here. So you listen to him as you nod along and close the cardboard box, ready to drive over to Mark Lee’s apartment and drop off the things you’ve collected from him for the past year. The box includes all of the clothes messily scattered across your drawers and your closet, the picture frame of you two together that you always had on your night stand, the ceramic bowls and a little tiger sculpture he made for you when he took a pottery class with his friend Renjun, and the lost guitar pics you found under your bed and at the very top of your bookshelf from when he used to bring his guitar along and play you songs on rainy afternoons. The only things of Mark’s that you kept were the love letter he gave you for your birthday and the USB with his cover of Justin Bieber’s Off my face on it that he shyly gifted to you on one of your dates; but you would never tell Jihoon that in fear of him getting rid of those most precious memories for you.

It’s good to let go, but you don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to keep something to remind you of the good times. The times you still felt loved by Mark.

“Off we go,” you say, standing up and bringing the box towards your front door, your best friend at your feet. He promised to drive you to Mark’s place– you think he’s worried about you meeting your ex-boyfriend face to face for the first time since the break up, but he said it’s because you’re too broke to Uber all the time, efficiently throwing all the considerate thoughts you were accrediting him out the window– and after a few minutes of the drive, you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Mark Lee's apartment.

Taking a deep breath in and out, almost chickening out with the flood of thoughts and excuses you could say to Jihoon when you come back to his car with the box still in your hands– sayings like “he wasn’t home” or “he didn’t want those back”, the latter stupider than the first– you decide to face your problems head-on and finally knock on the mahogany door, waiting for Mark to answer. And he does– of course he does, because he’s always home, and as his ex-girlfriend of one year, you're painfully aware of the fact– but when that happens, you feel your heart falling all the way down to your stomach, crushing you and suddenly making it hard for you to breathe. 

“Um… hi,” he greets you, voice a little groggy, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while– and when you meet his eyes, the deep chocolate orbs you always found yourself admiring and writing silent odes to in your head, you quickly glance away in fear of staring into them for too long and making decisions you wouldn’t like to make.

“Hi,” you awkwardly greet back, clearing your throat and moving a little in your place, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. You're surprised you're able to keep up with the conversation, thoughts running in your brain faster than you can comprehend them, heartbeat ringing in your ears from the unexpected anxiety. Maybe Jihoon was right and you should've taken a shot before coming here– at least you'd have more courage and social skills clearly needed for this kind of interaction. “I… brought you back your things,” you say, finally looking up at the male and chewing on your lips, letting out an awkward, tense laugh when he stares at you with an empty look, “figured you’d want them back,” you add, watching as the male opens his mouth and closes it in what seems to be shock before he presses his lips tightly together and nods at you.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he watches you clumsily hold up the cardboard box to him, ready to leave his stuff there with him and escape as fast as you can, not really minding how you'll get back to Jihoon's car– if jumping down the window of the entrance hall is the fastest option, you're ready to get to it. The truth is, everything is starting to get a little too hard to bear– his familiar scent filling your nose, the hoodie he wore to your first date enveloping his figure, his messy hair reminding you of the many times you brushed your fingers through it in attempts to smooth it down. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him, but it was starting to feel as if you forgot about him already and were now relearning all the things you once fell in love with again, looking at him in the same light, yet noticing him and all the small details a little bit differently. “Thanks, I… I actually, uh… I have your stuff here too, so if you want it back I’ll– I can just–”

“Y-yeah,” you nod, almost a little too eagerly, “that would be… cool,” you say, trying hard to ignore the fact that he had your stuff packed too, intending to give it to you, and the crashing reality that comes with it, telling you he was prepared to do this before you were and how it’s making you feel kind of shitty.

Mark moves further into the apartment, the sound of him dropping the box to the floor filling your ears before he’s back at the door in no time, a similar cardboard box in his hands that he offers to you with a tense smile on his face. “Wanted to bring it around so I had an excuse to see you, but you, uh… beat me to it, I guess…” 

Looking at him as you take the box out of his hands, gaze as if to tell him not to say such words to you when you’re still so fragile to his effect, you only nod and mutter out a simple “Thanks,” before you turn on your heel and intend to take the stairs back down.

“I’ll… see you around, then?” Mark calls after you as you take the first step out– something about it making you feel like it’s the first step out of his life, in a way– and you only nod, because one, you truly don’t know how else to reply to this question, and two, you really, really don’t know if you’ll ever see him again, but you can't bring yourself to say it to his face. Somehow, it would feel like torture to admit it– and you're not prepared for that reality just yet.

Rushing outside and getting into Jihoon's car, you almost feel like you’re on the verge of breaking, and when the male asks you how it went as he’s reversing out of the parking lot, you only bid him a one-word reply before you look through the box on your way home, too impatient to stay back from the memories.

And Jihoon didn’t really think this one through, because the fact that you gave Mark back the things that reminded you of him meant that he did the same, and now all the things you brought along to Mark’s apartment were in the cardboard box, all stained with countless memories and feelings attached to each and every single thing. The artwork you made for him, the little heart-shaped keychain you gave him for his birthday, the plant you gave him that was now long dead and dried out– those were once your stuff, but all in this world with the intention of love being sent out through them to your now ex-lover, and the fact that they’re in your possession again instead of his is not making letting go of Mark any easier. 

And maybe Mark was right and he truly was forgetful, because as you rummage through the contains of the box, while you find out your favorite blue socks are nowhere to be seen, surely still buried somewhere in the drawers of his closet, obliterated out of his memory, there’s a gray hoodie sitting at the bottom and it’s surely not yours– it’s his and it was always your favorite, and you always used to wear it at his place when you got cold or when you just really wanted to smell his cologne, and you suddenly don't know if it's presence in the box slipped his mind or if he truly left it there on purpose. 

Couldn’t he forget about that too?

Step three – block his number.

The third step comes into place after you accidentally slip out to Jihoon about the phone call you get on a Friday night– more like two hours into Saturday already– and now, most of all, you must admit that your best friend might be right about his advice.

Your phone starts ringing at 2:11 AM, and while you weren’t sleeping– you’ve been having some trouble with dozing off without being overbeared with thoughts lately– the name flashing on your screen shocks you for more reasons than one. 

Mark Lee calls you, three weeks after your breakup, in the middle of the night. You haven’t spoken since the time he gave you back your stuff, and even though you’ve done quite a bit of stalking on his social media, you have no news of him or his whereabouts. Naturally, a call from him in the middle of the night startles you and shakes you to the core. He has no reason to call you, so your brain does the math and concludes there must be an emergency– and god knows that even after being hurt by him, you could never ignore him and leave him hanging in a state of need.

So you pick up– with shaky hands and a raging heartbeat, expecting the worst. Listening to the other side of the line, you take a deep breath in and out, bracing yourself for the impact of the words you’re going to hear. The voice on the other side is laced with haziness and his tone is almost a little tired– worn out, even– when he finally greets you from wherever he is.

“Hi,” Mark says, and for a second, your heartbeat steadies itself and the world stops spinning– he sounds okay, and for a moment, you’re grateful to hear his voice.

Humming, as if to collect your thoughts, you clear your throat before you offer him an answer. “Hello,” you greet, “what’s- what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says, almost a little abruptly to your question. He doesn't overthink his answer and he doesn't give himself time to think if it's a good idea or not– he just blurts it out and now it's your problem to deal with, when it's there, out in the open. Your palms get sweaty and you start to lose feeling in your fingertips, making you take a few seconds to yourself to process the situation before you decide to finally answer to the strange sentence. 

“It’s late, Mark,” you mumble, and you involuntarily wonder if the sentence doesn’t have double meaning– it's too late for anyone to call at this hour, and at the same time, it’s been weeks since your ex boyfriend lost the privilege of listening to your voice when he can’t sleep in the middle of the night whenever he feels like it– and it’s now too late to do anything about it or make it any easier to deal with.

“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles to himself, and you suddenly recognise the laziness in his voice to be the effect of his and his best friend Hyuck’s Friday endeavors; the sweet coating of his voice being the effect of none other than the momentary bliss that comes with the relaxation of his body and mind when he's high. “Didn’t realize,” he concludes, making you shake your head at him in disbelief– not really mattering that he can’t see you in the act.

“‘s okay,” you mumble– and in your perfect reality, you hang up the phone now. In your perfect reality, you connect it to your charger and close your eyes, calling it a night. You fall asleep with no thoughts rummaging through your brain and wake up in the morning to a new sunny day, ready to take on the responsibilities of what’s to come, having productive days ended with smiles and a hot dinner you make for yourself just because you feel like it. In your perfect reality, you protect your own heart. This is not your perfect reality, though– and that’s why you stay on the line, listening to Mark ramble on the other side of the phone, intoxicated and slightly out of it. You wonder if he’ll remember calling you when he wakes up tomorrow. You wonder if he’ll regret it, or if he’ll just shrug his shoulders at the fact and go on with his day, not really paying you much thought when he’s sober.

“I was with Hyuck just now,” he says, and you hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side of the line, making you wonder if he’s washed up and ready for bed, “and– and I remembered how we all used to hang out together, y’know… you with us all– you always clicked with my friends and it was so cool and stuff… and I realized, right, they’re not as funny when you’re not around… but anyways… Jeno’s girlfriend asked about you, ‘cause she didn’t know…and telling her felt so silly, ‘cause they all kept looking at me and I knew they were pitying me, but it was my fault in the first place–”

“Mark–” 

“No, it’s true. And it’s cool, I don’t– I don’t blame you, or anything. I just… I dunno, I guess it got me wondering…”

The line goes silent on the other side, and you settle into your own bed, giving him time to continue. When he doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“You still there?”

“Yeah. How was your day?” he asks, tone of voice casual as ever, as if he’s forgotten about all the words he’s told you up until now–  as if it’s not 2 AM and both of your hearts aren’t breaking at the sound of each other’s voice on the other side of the line.

“It… it was okay, I guess,” you say nonetheless, too hopeless to find a way to end the conversation before he does. 

“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing, “that’s… awesome. You still taking those yoga classes on Mondays?” he asks, and you snicker to yourself– because what kind of question even is that? Who asks that on a late night call, when there are more important things you two need to talk about?

“Yeah,” you lie, still. You haven’t been since the breakup.

“That’s great. Wouldn’t want you to… y’know,” he laughs to himself, “be too sad over this… ‘t was for the better, after all.”

You hear yourself hum– the noise way more stable than your actual words ever could be– and you find yourself feeling silly in the conversation, lying to your ex boyfriend through your teeth; because at the end of the day, you don’t want him to worry about you– because it seems to be the case that he is. And it’s stupid, because he hurt you and you shouldn’t care, maybe you should’ve even show him that you’re heartbroken and that he is the reason behind your pain and the way your life is falling apart, bit by bit, but you don’t find it in you to be so cold and heartless. At the end of the day, you still care about Mark and there’s nothing you could do about it. Turns out that breaking up with him doesn’t magically make the feelings go away– and you knew that, but now you have proof.

“What were you saying before, by the way? You… trailed off at the end,” you say, reminding him of his previous words.

“Oh, that,” he snickers into the microphone again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he twists and turns in the sheets, “don’t worry about it. It was selfish of me.”

It was selfish of him to call in the first place. But you won’t tell him that.

“What was it?”

“It’s just… I was wondering if I lost you forever, y’know… if there was a chance we could ever…” he trails off again, but this time, you don’t bug him to complete it. You’re not stupid– you know the implication of his words. You’ve known him for a long time, after all– maybe you should’ve predicted this when you picked up the call.

“I mean…” you hum, “you didn’t lose me completely, if that’s– if that’s what’s keeping you up at night. We’re still friends, aren’t we?” you say, and in the corner of your brain, you can’t even believe the words yourself– but if it was selfish of him to call, you think it’s okay for you to selfishly fill both of you with empty promises, just for the sake of not breaking your heart even further.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “that’s– …I’m glad.”

The line’s silent after that, and you wonder if you two have used up the list of words to say to each other this time, if there’s truly no other answer at the end of this conversation. When the situation gets too much for you to bear, the heaviness finally settling on your shoulders and your chest, you finally find the courage to sniffle out a quiet goodbye.

“Good night, Mark.”

“G’night,” he drags out, mind still cloudy. “Love you,” spills out from his tongue, like a bad habit.

He ends the call before you get to say it back. Maybe that’s for the better.

And the truth is, you should’ve really listened to Park Jihoon and blocked Mark’s number after this encounter. But you didn’t– you’re too weak for Mark’s sweet words, finding yourself still hanging on to his saccharine voice and the muffled ramble he has reserved for you only every time he gets high and loses all self-control before calling you on Friday nights selfishly demanding your attention, somehow falling for him like a teenager over and over again despite promising yourself you're gonna move on for real now.

Step four – date someone new.

“So…” Jihoon starts one day, eyes glued to your skull like laser beams, the tone of his voice so incomprehensible you think he’s going to scold you for the actions of your previous days– even though you haven't told him about the midnight calls with Mark and so if he's not going through your phone, he has no way of knowing. Tense and nervous, still, knowing that the impact of his words could either heal you or cut you open like a knife– damn him for always being so brutally honest, no matter how soft his heart is for you– you smile at him with tight lips, crossing your arms on your chest in defense.

“So…?” 

A nervous laugh almost escapes your throat. If Jihoon wasn’t suspicious of you before, he surely is now– or he just finds you strange by the way he furrows his brows at you and scans you up and down, taking a second for himself before he sighs and seemingly decides to drop the weird way you’re acting right now, shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand.

“I was thinking… my friend asked about you,” he says, nonchalantly looking down onto his hands and taking the dirt out from behind his nails, as if it’s not a big deal and he doesn’t even care that much. “Choi Hyunsuk from Biology, you know him– shabby haircut, kinda short, failed the class so he has to retake it this year…?”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that the two of us have completely different majors, Hoonie,” you sweetly smile at him with irony, making him roll his eyes with a sigh before he tries again.

“The guy who ripped his pants at Xiao Dejun’s party last year?”

“Oh, that one! You should’ve said that earlier, of course I remember Choi Hyunsuk from your Biology class,” you nod hurriedly, the gears finally clicking in your brain.

“As if I wasn’t talking about him for the last few minutes–”

“Okay, and what about him?” you cut him off, already tired of his annoying tangent.

“I said he asked about you.”

“I heard that already,” you nod, looking at him with expecting eyes. “And?”

Jihoon stares at you, unblinking, as if you fell on your head and he’s trying to comprehend if you’re still here with him or if you got a concussion and need to be transferred into a hospital. When the contact of his eyes on your skin gets a bit too uncomfortable– you swear his looks could actually kill someone, if he tried enough– you furrow your brows at him in confusion and shake your head in disbelief.

“Why are you staring at me like that, Park Jihoon?”

“Just tryna see if you’re really that stupid or if you’re just pretending,” he mutters under his nose before he sighs again– his favorite activity whenever you’re around, it seems– and speaks up again, tone of voice reminding you of a kindergartener teacher trying to explain why it gets dark in the evening to a bunch of 4 year olds. “You know, when people ask about you, they are usually interested in you, as in, my friend Hyunsuk didn’t ask because you’re nice, but because you’re hot, if you know what I'm getting onto.”

“Oh,” you get out, eyes wide in concern and a little shaken-up, “well, that’s… nice of him, I guess.”

Jihoon only hums at you before he looks around himself and brings out the bag of chips that he left open by his right side only a few seconds ago, not really speaking more about the topic. It’s either he’s waiting for you to get what he’s hinting at, or he’s just waiting for you to get even more confused and ask him about it in a few seconds again– either way, he’s not the one doing more talking right now, because conversations with you, the most oblivious person he’s ever seen, are never productive if he goes too fast.

Chewing on the chips, his eyes go wide when you finally open your mouth and talk more about the topic at hand– just like he predicted. “Why are you telling me this?”

Your best friend swallows before he places the bag of chips back to its original place and turns his whole body so he’s facing you, speaking up again. “I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d like to hang out with him. Like a date, before you ask– because I know you’re gonna ask– and why? – because, again, I know you’re gonna ask– because I simply think you should try to date again to get your mind off the loser you broke up with two months ago,” he says, blunt and honest, answering all of your unsaid questions at once, and before you know it, he has you snickering and shaking your head in disapproval.

“Absolutely not,” you retort, waving your hands in the air to only further show your disagreement with the proposition, “that would just be a massive catastrophe.”

“Why? Hyunsuk’s nice.”

“I didn’t say he isn’t, it’s just…”

“Just?” he probes you, eyebrows raised and questioning.

“I… don’t know,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, aimlessly shrugging. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Jihoon.”

“Because of Mark?” he asks, and the moment his name escapes your best friend’s mouth, the whole room goes strangely quiet– you feel your heartbeat in your throat, the tips of your fingers start tingling and you swear that if you concentrate hard enough, you could feel a bead of sweat drip down your forehead with the incoming stress and nerves only the mention of your ex boyfriend brings you.

“No, that’s not it–”

“Sure,” he nods, sighing to himself– and there it is again, the judging look you so despise.

“You can’t just expect me to date other people a few weeks after my break up, Jihoon,” you exclaim, “that– that wouldn’t even be fair to your friend. You know I wouldn’t be invested,” you explain, and your friend rolls his eyes in frustration, sighing to himself.

“Oh but I know that! And Hyunsuk does too,” he shakes his head at you, “just thought the company of someone else could take your mind off things.”

“I have you,” you try.

“Yeah, but all we do when we’re together is mope about Mark Lee,” Jihoon snickers, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m more than open to bitch about your ex boyfriend and as your best friend, I don’t mind, but the fact that you’d be hanging out with someone else could take your mind off him, because you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about him with someone else, y’know?”

You shut your eyes closed, a heavy sigh heaving out of your body as you try hard to concentrate and not lose it, and with how Jihoon’s tone gets softer and he’s not as loud with his brutal, yet logical advice, he must feel you getting overwhelmed and accommodates to your needs. “Look, it’s gonna be fun. I promise. Hang out with someone new, feel wanted and hot and pretty again, get some male attention that’s not your ex boyfriend, and you’ll see how it makes you feel. If you hate it, you hate it and you can slap me, I don’t know... If you don’t, you can keep dating around with my friends, and I swear I’ll hook you up only with the nice ones,” he takes your hand into his and waves it around in comfort, making you open your eyes and look at him again.

Seeing the softness and encouragement in your best friend’s eyes, you sigh to yourself. All this time, he’s tried to help you– what if you finally follow his advice? Who knows, it might even help. 

Sighing, you squeeze his palm and hover over him to get the stranded bag of chips he’s guarding on the other side of the sofa. “Fine,” you mutter, “but let your friend know that he’s the one paying, okay?”

“Perfect. I'll text him your number, then.“

And maybe Jihoon was right and after dolling yourself up and dressing up in your favorite dress just so you would feel as comfortable as possible, you don’t feel as bad when his friend Hyunsuk picks you up in his white Volvo and chats with you on the way to the restaurant. He makes good small talk and even gets a giggle out of you, the music in his car is low and you find yourself slowly easing into the situation. You don’t remember when the last time you went out with a guy that wasn’t Mark was, but it’s surprisingly nice. 

And Jihoon was right– you feel pretty. And when Hyunsuk opens the door for you after pulling up to the parking lot of the restaurant, you even feel wanted. You like the attention, just like any other girl would, and the smile you offer to your date seeps of tender shyness as you get out of the comfortable seat of his car. 

The illusion, though, is soon broken as you notice the restaurant he pulled up to. Your smile freezes, your palms get sweaty and you feel your heartbeat rummaging against your ribcage as soon as the idle atmosphere of the restaurant opens up before you. And realistically, you could turn on your heel and get back to the car, tell Hyunsuk that you want to go to another restaurant– but you don’t do it, against your biggest wishes, because you worry that the boy already made a reservation and you don’t want to ruin an evening that’s going well so far.

“Everything alright?” your date checks up on you, seemingly noticing the frown on your face, and when his worried eyes meet yours, it’s sealed– you’d feel too bad for pulling out of the date now. So you only do what you always do best– you put on your best relaxed smile and nod, catching up to him and ensuring him that you’re all okay and you didn’t just talk yourself out of an anxiety attack. 

Because you owe it to him and to Jihoon– both of them worked so hard to make you feel happy and help you to get over your ex boyfriend. It’s not Hyunsuk’s fault that he just managed to pick the restaurant your said ex boyfriend works at part-time. He had no way of knowing, and if you’re lucky enough, Mark wouldn’t be on today. He only works here part-time, it’s not like he’s here every day, and as far as you’re concerned, he only worked like two or three days a week when you dated. It would be a weird coincidence for him to be working the day you go there with your new date– you hope you’re not that unlucky.

Hyunsuk is a gentleman. Opening up doors for you, pulling out the chair for you, letting you talk and not interrupting you. He watches you with fond eyes and you almost try to feel bad for the fact that even if this ended well, the poor boy would just end up being a rebound. He deserves so much more, and you start to worry if this date was a good idea after all. Wasn’t it selfish of you to agree to this? 

“What do you want to get?” he asks as you open up the menu, and you squint at the prices, mentally taking a note to order the cheapest thing just in case he wants to pay for you at the end of the evening. 

“Spaghetti Bolognese,” you blurt out, despite it not being your favorite meal. Hyunsuk just stares at you with squinted eyes, but doesn’t disagree with you. After all, he has no way of knowing that you dislike the taste of the sauce in most restaurants– even though your conscience tells you that Mark knew that and always made sure to remind you about it before ordering for you, worried that you won’t get to eat much that evening– the only thing left to hope is that it tastes good in this particular place. 

“Okay, sure,” he nods and puts the menu down, smiling at you before engaging in a comfortable conversation with you. It feels like you’ve known Hyunsuk forever– his personality oddly reminding you of Jihoon’s caused mainly by the fact that the two have grown up together. Everything flows soundly, but you still find yourself anxiously picking at your cuticles as you cautiously look around the restaurant, fearing the fact that you could catch a glimpse of your ex boyfriend at any second.

And maybe you should be a psychic, because those bad feelings were not there for nothing– when you see a waiter walking out of the back and eyeing your table, ready to get your order, the boy is a few inches taller than your current date, raven hair messy, but still a little styled, dark circles under the man’s eyes, and there he is– your ex boyfriend. Mark Lee halts in his movements, wearing his work uniform, eyes wide, a hint of something that breaks you at least in two mirroring in his orbs before he turns on his heel and disappears in the back again. When he doesn’t come back and his co-worker joins you and Hyunsuk at your table with a warm smile, you stop waiting to see the glimpse of him you selfishly desired to catch despite fearing the interaction the whole evening.

You want to fall through the floor and disappear in the depths of this earth. For some reason, you feel mortified. What would he think? And why do you even care about his feelings? A million different thoughts run through your brain and you worry that you’re being too distant from your current date, but Hyunsuk’s warm eyes reassure you that he doesn’t mind. 

Piercing the food on your table with your eyes, you try to battle the noisy words running around your brain. 

It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them. To have them in front of you, meet their gaze and acknowledge their existence and still be able to nod and say that you’ve moved on, is something completely different. 

Were you ever convinced that you were over Mark Lee in the first place, though?

After all of this– the months of following Jihoon’s advice, although making a few mishaps along the way as you continue to pick up Mark’s calls on Friday nights, snoop around his socials and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t, overthinking everything and making you wish the relationship never ended in the first place– it’s time for the last step of it all. The last, most crucial part of this whole moving on process– the most important one, if you may.

Step five – avoid him at all costs.

Sounds easy, right? After the four previous steps, you’d already cried plenty about the lost months with your ex-boyfriend. You’d already given him back all of his stuff, not tying yourself to him with any material memory. You’d already gone on a date with someone new, choosing to distract yourself instead of letting yourself feel the emotions. After all the previous steps, this one’s supposed to be the easiest one. The one you’re supposed to want to do, after all. The break-up wasn’t messy, but it was still painful– it’s only natural for you to not want to see Mark ever again, right?

Wrong.

Because you never listen to the advice you’re given. That just wouldn’t be you, would it?

And so when Mark Lee calls you one day and tells you that he has a free train ticket to the Bukhansan stop, explaining that he was supposed to go hike there with Donghyuck who canceled on him last minute because of an assignment due midnight, you don’t really hesitate much before you shoot him a short text saying that you’re down and get ready for the short hike. 

When you meet your ex boyfriend at the station, his figure slightly slouched up until the moment his eyes meet yours, you feel the quiet tension in the air. You’ve seen each other a few times before this meeting– on a party you went to with Jihoon, at the campus when you went to class one morning, your ex boyfriend walking you towards the Art building, hell, you’ve even met in the grocery store, all accidental and making your heart leap in your chest with tension. This time, though, you’re here completely intentionally, just to hang out with him, and something about the fact makes a dull pain shoot all through your intestines, a sensation so uncomfortable you try to hide with a tight-lipped smile. 

“Ready for the hike?” he asks, adjusting the bag on his back, playing with the straps with clammy fingers. You can’t help but notice how he looks just like a little boy, in his little world, shielded from everything. He seems to have taken a protective stance, and you hate how the air between you shifted from how you two used to be when you were dating. Mark seems scared. Nervous. On top of his feet. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this at all.

You’re already here, though. Turning around and leaving wouldn’t really work right now, as you take a step towards the train that’s just arrived, humming to your ex boyfriend in agreement. Taking a seat on the place Mark’s pointed to you on the train ticket, you try to loosen up your muscles and get as comfortable as you can, clearing your mind as you gaze outside of the window.

“How have you been?” he asks, clearing his throat.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you turn to him as you search for an answer. “Better,” you nod, voice quiet. “You?”

Mark hums, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Good, good,” he lies through his teeth, “I’ve seen you at the restaurant the other day,” he hints, and you battle the sigh that’s begging to cut out of your throat. You don’t know where he’s going with the sentence. It’s not a question– only a proposition, barely even that– and you could ignore it with a nod of your head, you could pay it no mind as you see the bitterness in his gaze and the slightly self-conscious averting of his stare. You don’t know where he’s going with the conversation, but frankly, you don’t know where you are going with your answer either, as you shrug to him in a casual manner and peep under your breath.

“Yeah,” you say, “that was just… Jihoon’s friend from uni, I suppose,” you complete, and the sentence hints at nothing– it doesn’t clear out the confusion, it doesn’t outright say anything that could make Mark believe that it was just a casual hang-out with a friend, but still, you see the boy visibly relax as he nods to you and offers you a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh,” he hums, looking out of the window, past the profile of your face. The change in topic is sudden and sharp, but also welcome as he falls into a casual conversation with you, and suddenly, you’re reminded by the Mark you once knew– the guy you’ve once called not socially awkward, but so social that it’s awkward– as he talks to you about his day and rambles on about the weather. “It’s good that it won’t rain today, I bet the view will be nice.”

Locking your gaze with him for a brief second, you lick your lips and point your eyes towards the ground. It’s good that it won’t rain today, as opposed to last time you two went to the Bukhansan trail. You wonder if he remembers.

Before you have a chance to mention it– and in all reality, you won’t, no matter how bold you could be feeling at the moment– the train comes to a stop at your station and you hop out of the carriage, ready for the hike.

It’s easy to forget how messed up things have gotten between the two of you when you walk alongside with your ex boyfriend, laughing at his silly jokes and gasping at everything he shows to you with a pointed finger, finding yourself admiring the sound of his giggle when he spots a squirrel pass your path somewhere near the top of the hill. The trail is almost empty at this hour, since the two of you have decided to go in the late afternoon, and you find your soul to finally be at peace after so many weeks, you finally feel relaxed in the nature, one with the wind and the gentle sound of birds chirping lullying your running thoughts to a rest. 

You realize that this is just what you needed all this time. You needed to get out and walk for some while, to tune out yourself and to accept the fact that you’re still here, for another day, and something about that is still a blessing. Watching the back of Mark’s head as he walks a step in front of you due to the narrowness of the trail in this area, you smile to yourself. It’s easy to forget just how much you were hurt by him when he heals your soul with such a simple gesture. It’s easy to forget you were hurt when he seemingly tries to put all the broken pieces back together, glue them to where they were in the first place, when things were easier and you both didn’t have so many things to worry about. 

You reach the top just as the sun starts setting over the horizon, and there are only a few people scattered across the peak, sitting on their own picnic blankets and gazing into the distance. The hues of the sky paint the world in a different color, the oranges, pinks and muted purples playing with your heartstrings as you come to a halt and crouch down and feel the presence of another soul mirror your actions only a meter away to your right, his gaze glued to your side. The view is beautiful, but the feeling of being watched isn’t ignorable anymore, and so you turn to your companion and raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if he has something to say.

You don’t know how you’ll be able to come back to your life after this and pretend you still don’t want to spend every passing second with the man on your right. You don’t know how you’re supposed to ignore the ever so growing love for him– even though after being so disappointed with the past, the feelings should be decreasing, not doing the opposite– and frankly, you don’t even want to think of going back to the way it’s been for the past few months. And so you don’t– you allow yourself to indulge the moment, to ignore the pain that’s about to come, just so you could hold another beautiful memory to your heart and enjoy the moment before it hurts you to think of it tomorrow morning. 

“It’s even more beautiful than the last time,” Mark hums, but his eyes never leave your figure– if you were still dating, you bet he’d come out with a cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the view, or something. “It didn’t rain this time around, thank god.”

Gazing at him, you shake your head in disbelief. Scoffing, you play with the grass between your fingers. “You remember that?”

“Yeah,” he hums, “I remember a lot of things.”

The sentence makes you bitterly chuckle. He knows why you’re reacting the way you are– and you have every right to. He claims to remember a lot of things, but the ones important to you, the ones you wanted him to remember, he failed to save into his memory. And that’s eventually what made you break up with him, at the end of it all.

At your reaction, he sighs and drags a hand across his face, seemingly realizing the weight of his own words and just how ridiculous he must have sounded to you right now. 

“I- That-” he stutters, shaking his head, “that sounded stupid right now, considering… everything… Didn’t it?”

“Kind of,” you nod, not wanting to meet his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice suddenly raw and serious, so different to the tone he’s been using with you the whole afternoon, “I don’t- I can’t remember if I said that back then, when you- when you… broke up with me, but I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that, and I am in no way shape or form trying to make this about me, but I hate myself every day for the way things turned out and if I could go back to that day, I’d do so many things differently.”

The sky in front of you deepens in reds and you taste iron on your tongue, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve managed to bite on your lip too hard in the midst of the conversation. Tearing out stems of grass with your clammy fingertips, you focus on the clouds running through the sky, calculating your next response.

“Okay,” you nod, not giving him much else. The answer perfectly encapsulates the way you feel on the inside right now– you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, if you’re ready to let go of it and act like you weren’t hurt or that none of it ever happened, but you listened to him and you internalized his words. He is sorry. He knows he was in the wrong. And you were aware that he knew all of this before– hell, you’d even go as far as say he knew it the moment you knocked on his door that day and told him it was over– but hearing it from him surely moved something inside of you to a more comfortable place.

“I-” he starts, voice breaking making him clear his throat before he continues, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I shouldn’t have expected you to still be my friend after all of this, and that- I shouldn’t have even called you so many times and approached you at the store and stuff, but um-” he mumbles, shrugging to himself, “I guess I just couldn’t stay away from you. And again, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything, really. So… yeah…”

Snickering at his aimless monologue, you shake your head in disbelief. “Mark?”

“Yeah?” he stares at you, eyes a bottomless pool of emotion.

“Why did you invite me here today? What was the… point, I guess?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze makes goosebumps appear all over your body. 

Mark offers you a sad smile, head leaned to his right as he shrugs, and this time, his eyes don’t leave yours as he spills the truth into the air. “I guess I was just feeling selfish today,” he hums, and the sentence makes you cringe with the memory of his first call to you after your break up, “wanted to spend time with you.”

“Here, of all places?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “told you. I was feeling selfish.”

Snickering, you look away, staring at the sky again. The colors are starting to blend together into a deep, dark purple– the horizon darkening as the sun starts to say its final goodbyes to the day. You sigh to yourself, yet feel no bitterness or terror at his words. Somehow, you understand. Somehow, you get him a little too well. Somehow, you think you knew the moment he texted you today, and somehow, you think you felt it in your bones when you didn’t say no, although you could have. There’s calmness in your soul when you nod at the implication of his words, leaning back on your elbows and plopping your bottom to the ground, sitting at the dusty surface. 

“You said you didn’t expect anything out of me today, Mark.”

“And I don’t,” he says, voice soft. 

“And you brought me here to remind me of the last time we went?” you stare at him, a hint of a bitten-back smile playing with your lips. “Because you’re selfish?” 

He nods, not escaping your gaze. “To remind you of the last time we went. To show you that… I remember, I guess. And that I still care, just like the last time. If not more.”

“Mark, you can’t just say all of this and expect nothing out of me right now,” you mutter.

“Actually, I can. Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just… laying it out in the open, and what you do with the information is completely, completely up to you,” he explains, and you find yourself chuckling at him, the atmosphere instantly lighter as you hear his voice in its usual casualness, talking to you as if he was just unpacking what went on in class today, and not the starting and the end of your one year relationship.

And he’s right. What you do with the information is completely up to you, and the next steps and the progress of your relationship with Mark Lee is also completely in your hands. You could turn away and never talk to him again, you could curse at him and tell him that it’s too late now and he missed his chance, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t be inviting you to this place, lying about his roommate canceling just to trick you into going, and you wouldn’t be blindly accepting the invitation, wanting to see where the afternoon brings you. 

“So you still care about me?” you hum, looking at him from under your eyelashes, noticing his slouched-over pose as he looks back at you over his shoulder.

“Always have,” he admits, “never stopped. Despite not really… acting like it in the past few months.”

“Why’d you stop acting like it, then?” you ask.

A sigh escapes his lips, his head turning forward before he leans back and sits cross-legged on the ground, more comfortably now. Shrugging, he answers the question. “I guess I just got too caught up with different things. And don’t get me wrong, you were always my priority, always, but I was all over the place with everything and my mind just couldn’t… there were too many things to keep up with and I couldn’t stay up to date with everything,” he says, “and I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation, and it doesn’t make it better or undo the pain I’ve caused you, but it’s… at least you know it was never because I’d care about you any less.”

His eyes bear into yours with such honesty you think the weight of the world will crash on you any minute, and suddenly, the whole situation seems so much clearer.

And you wouldn’t take it back, you wouldn’t undo the breakup or do anything differently, because at the end of the day, you think it was needed. Perhaps the time apart was what he needed as a wake up call and what you needed to shield yourself from hurting more. 

“Stop me from saying it if you… if you don’t want to hear it right now,” he hums, voice barely louder than a whisper. There seems to be a silent communication between the two of you, a connection of some sort that brings out the strange telepathy, but you just nod at him, a gentle smile playing with your lips as you understand exactly what he means, telling him that it’s okay and that you don’t mind– you welcome, you need to hear him say it again.

Licking his lips, he turns to you fully, facing you. There’s not a hint of nervousness in his body, having done this a lot of times before, and then it happens– the repeated confession, confirming what was there the whole time, never leaving even when the times were rough. 

“I love you,” he says.

And isn’t that all that’s needed? 

A year is a long time with someone. Somehow, you wouldn’t want the time to go to waste. At the end of the day, if love is still present, isn’t it worth trying? One more time?

“And you still don’t expect anything from me?” you ask, gazing at him softly. “You don’t expect me to say it back?”

“No,” he breathes out, shrugging. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”

“Because you’re selfish like that,” you nod, teasing him. 

“Because I’m selfish like that,” he agrees, breaking out into a slight grin.

Looking at the sky, now completely dipped in dark purple, you sigh to yourself at the turmoil of the conversation. You don’t say it back– although you feel it, you know it’s in there, playing with your heartstrings and clenching the muscle in the palm of its hand– you know love is there, deep inside, for the man that’s currently staring at you as if you hung the very stars appearing on the sky there yourself, stolen them from your own eyes and gluing them there selflessly, for everyone to see. You don’t tell him you love him back, you don’t tell him you forgive him or accept his apology. You don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, what your brain is going to tell you when you come down from the hill and get home, lay in your bed and overthink. You let the worries escape you, letting fondness and calm envelope you in a tight hug instead.

“Okay,” you nod, watching the boy next to you look at you with curious eyes. You take his hand into yours and place it on your thigh, playing with his fingers for a heartbeat before you meet his eyes again and smile. “I won’t say it back, but for all it’s worth, Mark… I’m glad you remembered.”

And that’s all he needs– there is love, there is fondness, and there is the silent confirmation that all you need right now is just a bit more time. 

Where do broken hearts go?

Somehow, you think they hold on to the place where it all started. Somehow, you think your heart never went anywhere– it stayed on this hill, waiting for you to pay it a visit and pick back up everything right from where you left it.

“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to go here today, Y/N,” Mark laughed behind you as he looked up to the sky, the dark clouds shielding the sun that had been previously shining down on your hiking figures, casting an orange glow on the strands of your hair. 

“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you shrugged, turning to him and grinning as you tugged on his hand, grip strong as you dragged the boy up the trail, your sneakers fast against the dirty ground. “We have finals starting next week and it’s gonna be too cold to go after the exam season is over, so we gotta go now.”

“I kind of regret telling you that I’ve never been here before now,” Mark sighed, but followed you nonetheless, breathlessly following your excited stride. It was October, the leaves on the trees were welcoming the two of you in shining colors, and the wind kissing your skin turned a bit chilly in the evenings– courtesy of the warm hoodie Mark shyly lended you when you shivered for the first time, adoring the way you, his friend, looked in the light gray fabric. Something about you wearing his clothes made the boy a bit hopeless about the day. Maybe he’ll have enough courage to confess his feelings to you, he thought. Maybe, despite the first raindrops falling on the skin of his bare arms, this evening will have a happy ending for you and him. 

“Oh, please,” you squinted at him, continuing to run up the hill– thank god it wasn’t that steep, serving both of you as the perfect hiking difficulty, “even if you wouldn’t have, I’d drag you here anyway. It’s like, my favorite place to go in Seoul, haven’t I told you before?”

You have, Mark thought. But he was okay with hearing it again. 

You squealed when the raindrops got heavier and the rain started pouring faster on the two of you, and Mark found himself laughing at your running figure. He was right behind you, praying that you don’t slip on one of the rocks and break your leg on the hiking trail, but he encouraged you with sweet comments and a hand on the small of your back as he watched the tip of the hill appear right in front of his very eyes, your body coming to a satisfied halt when you reached your destination.

“Tada!” you grinned at him, twirling a little like a ballerina, showing him the place with outstretched arms. He tried hard to observe the place, but his eyes stayed glued to your excited figure, gaze bearing into yours as you looked at him, amidst a little flustered, with sparkly orbs and a bright smile on your face. Your hair was a mess, his gray hoodie enveloping your body was slowly growing darker in color from absorbing the rain, and your sneakers were getting a bit muddy from walking around the place. He wanted to remember this moment forever, he thought– this version of you, the smiley expression on your face, the carefree and excited nature of your step. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” you exclaimed, jumping around and nearing the boy, but as you went to take his hand to drag him around the top of the hill once more, your feet slipped and you fell forward, a surprised squeak battling its way out of your throat.

Your whole life flashed in front of your very eyes in that moment, embarrassment spreading down your neck at the fact that you were about to fall face first onto the ground in front of your crush of a few months, before your body collided with a soft, yet firm mass engulfing you closer. A pair of strong arms steadied you against his chest, and when you looked up at your friend, you swear all words were taken out of your dictionary, the sight leaving you speechless.

“It is,” he gaped, eyes bearing into yours. Mark was agreeing with you, but something in the back of your head was telling you that he didn’t really admire this place as much as you did– his curious gaze was always plastered somewhere completely else. 

That place being your face, of course. And your eyes, your cheeks, the mess of your bangs, and occasionally– screw that, almost always– your lips. Much like in that moment, a few centimeters away from his face, so inviting he thought it would be a crime to contain the urge. 

And so he didn’t– he didn’t control his feelings and the ever-so growing yearning for you, as he silently leaned towards your face and captured his lips with yours in a firm, yet short kiss.

He looked at you with a nervous tint behind his gaze when he leaned away, the sight of your wide eyes staring at him making a slight flush grow on his cheeks. You looked so beautiful in that moment– flustered, surprised, with messy hair and lips still apart– and he was relieved to not find a hint of a displeased emotion in your expression. 

“Okay, so- well-” you stuttered, laughing to yourself, “this didn’t go as I planned, but I guess I’m happy as long as the final result is the same,” you hummed, standing on your tippy-toes and pressing your lips against him once more, this time letting yourself enjoy the moment fully, mouth moving against his in a careful, yet excited rhythm. He tasted like the strawberry candy you offered him on the bottom of the trail and smelled a bit like rain, the mixture always staying in the depths of your mind as his warmth enveloped you in comfort and a feeling of home.

“The final result being…?” he asked when you pulled apart once again, a dazed expression overtaking his sharp features.

“Us,” you shrugged, “like this,” you clarified.

Mark laughed at that, hugging you closer to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of raindrops washing away the top layer of dirt off the rocks on the tip of the hill, hands sneaking around his waist and enjoying the way they wrapped around him so tightly and so comfortably. You in his hoodie, in your favorite place, standing in his arms. It was raining, but it didn’t matter.

“Mark?” 

“Hm?” 

“If we ever get lost, or something happens… bring me back here, okay?” you mumbled close to his ear, lips gently glazing the skin of his ear, making goosebumps appear all over your new lover. “I’m convinced that this place could fix everything.”

“Even us?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not allowed to ever leave me now, what would there be to fix between us?” you smacked his shoulder, snickering to yourself.

“You never know,” he laughed, “what if I accidentally mess up somewhere along the way?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the wet mess.

“Okay then,” you hummed, “even us.”

Staring into your eyes, letting the moment play out by itself, Mark swore he’s never felt more at peace. He wondered if it was the effect of the place, the rain, or just your sheer presence.  “I’ll remember that,” he giggled before he let go of your body, petting your head as he took a hold of your hand, tugging you down from where you came from, “now let’s go home before we catch a cold.”

Nodding, following the man as you both carefully, yet fastly made it down the trail, you enjoyed the way his hand fit into yours and the way you knew that after this, you can’t ever come back to being friends with Mark Lee. He was all yours, completely, utterly yours, and you knew in the back of your head, that you were his– and nothing will ever change that.

You would always come back to the hill with him. It felt ridiculous to think about you two ever having to fix anything between the two of you back then, but even in that moment, you knew that for him, you’d keep trying. As long as he does– as long as he remembers.

Where do broken hearts go? You guess they always come right back to the place they come from– and they leave glued back together every single time.

You guess your heart never really left the hill.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Imma be an anon cause I'm bit scared . I fell in love with the way u write.

May I get a Headcanon with nanami if you're comfortable 🥺

A hurt /comfort where NANAMI raised his voice at reader which lead reader to distance him for a long period?

You can go anything with the plot . Thank you!

Hey honey, I'm not writing headcanons atm because I'm not comfortable with, but I decided to turn this into a full on fic instead - hope you like it, let me know! ♡

Nanami Kento raising his voice at you

Pairing: Nanami Kento x reader

Word Count: 2,1k

Synopsis: He had no other choice but to scream at you in the middle of a fight, snapping at you like he never did before. It took both of you a few weeks to realize that you can't be with each other...

Warnings: Listen, I adore the gentleman Nanami fics (as you can see on my own blog lol) but it was so much fun to let this man snap as well, to let his temper show once, this is a classy hurt to comfort with some angst - enjoy!

„Don’t do it, (y/n). You’ll get yourself in serious danger. Stay behind me and let me handle this.”

You huff in sheer frustration, eyes piercing through the back of his perfect undercut. Why? Why isn’t Kento Nanami able to trust you? You are a grade 1 sorcerer just like he is, so skilful with handling your sword that even Gojo is impressed by your abilities. But despite all of that, he positioned himself in front of you instantly when that special grade curse appeared, blocking every minor attack that might come your way.

Oh, how much you love that man, how much you adore the way he cares about you deeply. It’s not a secret to anyone how you feel for each other, how your eyes light up when he enters the room, how his gaze instantly softens for only you.

“I’m a big girl, I can handle this myself.”

But this is too much. Damn, you’ve been a jujutsu sorcerer as long as he is, constantly training to get better and better. It’s not fair to lock you out of this fight when your-

“Stop contradicting me all the time!”

The sharp tone in his usual calm voice makes you flinch, body moving backwards automatically when he turns around. His eyes are cold, so cold that your blood seems to freeze in your veins. You’ve never seen him like this, especially not when it comes to you. That sweet and tender man with a face that doesn’t show any emotion most of the time now looks down at you with venom spitting from his orbs, arms so tight that his veins look like they’ll burst any minute.

“This is too big for you. Now do me a favour and stay.in.line.”

“But I’m-“

“ENOUGH!”

“Kento!”

“You are acting like a stupid child! Now do what I said!”

You are lost at words, eyes staring into his furious ones until he turns around and hunts after the blue-haired curse named Mahito again.

A wave of agony washes over you before you can stop it, body feeling numb. It’s ridiculous to be hurt about his words, surely he didn’t mean to raise his voice at you, but still…

You swallow hard. But still it fucking hurts. Since you’ve known him, Kento never snapped at you. Not once, not in a million lifetimes. He was always tender when expressing his opinion just like you are. Yes, there were never heated arguments, cruel words or loud voices from any of you. But he just broke that unsaid rule.

He really hit you where it hurts.

-back at jujutsu high-

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

Your fingers ruffle through the pink hair in front of you gently, eyes scanning over Yuji’s bruised body. What an impressive boy he is. How did he manage to break through this sphere, to almost end that curse? For a new jujutsu sorcerer, he is remarkably skilled - and a true sweetheart on top.

“I’m doing fine, don’t worry about me, (y/n)-san. How are you feeling? You seem so…I don’t know, different I guess. Are you alright?”

You force a small smile onto your shaky lips. Is it selfish that you can’t forget the way Kento barked at you, that he basically told you you are too weak for this fight? You wish you were better than that, strong enough to outstand your self-seeking feelings and visit him in the hospital wing.

But you simply can’t. Not right now. Not when his stinging voice is still so present in your mind.

“Don’t worry about me, okay?”

“Hey, how you’re doing, sweet cheeks? Nanami is asking for you, are you free?”

You swallow away the big lump forming in your throat, eyes not daring to look up at her.

“Actually, I still have to tell Gojo what happened. Thank him for his invitation, I have to keep going.”

You need to get out of here as fast as possible, away from the stinging gaze of Shoko who knows exactly something’s up, who eyes you up and down. As if in trance you storm out of the hospital wing, straight into the burning hot sunlight, heart pumping so hard against your ribcage that you feel like fainting any possible minute.

“ENOUGH!”

His voice still echoes through your head, makes you feel like a child again. Kento never looked at you this coldly, without any emotion in his usual so soft orbs. What on earth did you do to upset him like this? After all, you were on countless missions together before, defeated multiple grade 1 curses side by side. What was different this time? Was it Yuji, the bad weather? Why did he decide to scream at you like this?

“What are you doin’ here? I was already on my way to look after you in the hospital wing. Aren’t ya supposed to be by Nanami’s side?”

Your heart stops for a minute. Fuck, Gojo Satoru and his cheeky smile are definitely the last thing you need right now. If he only knew how much his words make your heart sting in agony, how much strength it costs you to act like nothing happened. You know how ridiculous it must be, avoiding the love of your life over some random words and a harsh tone.

But you can’t help it.

“I was on my way to report about the mission”, you explain briefly.

“Is there something you need to tell me? C’mon, you can’t even look at me (y/n).”

Your glossy eyes dart towards Gojo. God, how pathetic you feel. Why aren’t you able to just get over it and move on? Why are you making things so hard for both you and Kento, standing here on the brink of tears instead of being by his side?

“I can’t have it right now, Gojo. Just leave me alone.”

But despite the way your heart aches for him, you continue walking towards your dorm. That stone cold look on his face, the way he clenched his fists.

“This is too big for you.”

“You are acting like a stupid child.”

You shake your head violently. No, you aren’t able to simply forgive and forget what you saw that mission. This man wasn’t the Kento Nanami you know and love, not the man you thought he was. What if it was all a lie? What if this is what he really sees in you? A weakling, a dumb child.

Breathe in, breathe out, don’t lose your composure.

“I need some time for myself…”

-a few weeks later-

Kento hates it with every fiber of his being. Waking up in the morning, your face still present in his sleep-drunken mind until reality hits him. Since he lashed out, you didn’t talk more than a few necessary sentences with him. And even though you don’t seem to be cold and distant, everything just changed.

Oh, if he could turn back time, if he was able to take back all those things he said to you. He should have stopped when you flinched backwards, should have stopped when your eyes turned glossy. But he knew your life was in serious danger, that Mahito is no curse to be messed with. The decision between hurting your feelings or watching you die…

At least you’re safe. At least Mahito was too focused on finishing him to even involve you into his sphere. This should be everything he cares about, it’s only naturally that you are hurt. But still…What would he do to hold you again, what would he do for you to smile at him as brightly as you did back then. He misses you with his whole heart.

“You could just try talking to her, y’know? I bet (y/n) might understand”, Gojo tries to cheer him up, legs laying stretched out on the table between them.

“I don’t want to force myself onto her. After all, I deserve her anger and disappointment.”

And oh, it was written on your face. The way your trembling lips parted, how your eyes widened just the slightest when his words hit you like a train.

“C’mon, don’t be so hard on yourself-“

“I hurt her. And I will never forgive myself for doing that”, he interrupts the white-haired man determined.

“Well, could you forgive yourself if she got killed?”

Nanami lets out his breath, simply stares into the distance. Of course Gojo is right. Damn, he doesn’t regret his decision. But still…

It hurts.

“Sorry. Do you have a minute to…talk?”

His heart stops beating. There you stand, nervously picking on your nails while you look at him. God, he always looks so fine. Why on earth does he have to look so fine? No, you have to focus. After all, you are here to talk things out. These last weeks were nothing but torture for you, your heart bleeding waterfalls every time you saw him. Oh, you never knew you were able to crave someone else this badly.

But there you are, standing in the door like an idiot.

“You sure can! I’m doing…some other stuff I guess. See ya!”

Within the blink of an eye, Gojo is gone in the wind and leaves you alone with him.

“You don’t have to stand there. Please, sit down.”

That gentle tone you know you well, his inviting voice that makes your stomach drop from time to time. With wobbly legs, you cross the room to sit opposite to him on the still warm chair of Gojo.

What are you supposed to say? How are you supposed to act? Your mind goes blank, forgets every little piece of conversation you trained these last days. Fuck, why are you even here? Maybe you should just leave-

He grabs your hand.

Nanami Kento grabs your hand.

“Let me apologize for the things I said to you back then. It was in no way right to snap at you like that. But when I saw what Mahito is able to do, when I realized he is far better than all the other special grade courses I ever encountered…(y/n), it might sound selfish, but all I could think about was saving you.”

You stare at him in utter disbelief, heart beating out of your chest. Did he…did he really say that?

“You…wanted to save me…”

“You are a skilled jujutsu sorcerer, probably better than me. But if it wasn’t for Yuji, I would be dead by now. To think that you might die…I couldn’t take it, (y/n). You are everything to me.”

“Everything…”

“This might be the wrong moment, the worst timing for saying such things. But I love you, (y/n). I loved you with all my heart for ages, love you for everything you are. Even though you aren’t able to forgive me what I said, even though you don’t want to see me again…(y/n), I love you.”

The countless nights you kept yourself awake pondering about how he feels for you, the countless nights his words echoed through your heart. The countless nights you thought you interpreted his affection wrong, that he doesn’t feel the same.

Vanished into thin air.

Nothing but a fade whisper in the darkness.

“These last weeks you were all I could think about. I thought you might not feel the same, that you might not be the person I thought you were-“

He squeezes your hands firmly, the troubled ocean of his eyes getting lost in yours.

“I’m not able to put my feelings into words the way you deserve it, (y/n). But I know for sure that I’m hopelessly in love with you.”

You snap. All these nights without him, the grief you were put through, his gorgeous face close enough to touch while you couldn’t allow yourself to. With a swift motion you crawl over the table that divides the two of you, closing the distance of these past weeks with a kiss.

A kiss that contains all the anger, the disappointment and the affection you hold for him. That gorgeous man who swept you off your feet. That gorgeous man who showed a side you’ve never seen before, who risked his own life in order to save yours.

Nanami Kento.

“God, I love you (y/n). I love you so much”, he mutters against your lips, hands pressing you firmly against his warm body.

“I don’t want to let go again.”

He smiles against your mouth, eyes gleaming like the sun itself.

“Then don’t”.

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