#can you tell i've had this complete thought process before. many times.

[sebsbarnes]

go-bag || jack abbot

jack abbot x reader

summary: the secrecy of your relationship is left hidden behind closed doors and the corners of the emergency department, until your missing necklace appeared in jack's go-bag

warnings: none, improper grammar i'm sure, reader not designated to specific shift or stated if nurse or doctor, age and gender not implied

word count: 2k

a/n: luv this man.

"hey, have you seen a silver necklace? small flower on it?" you recited the questions like a mantra, every person that walked past you you pestered them, hell even the patients and medics in the bay.

robby called out to you, "do you even take it off for work? there's no need to, you can wear necklaces."

a groan resounded from the bottom of your throat, "it's on every day. i could count on one hand how many times i've taken it off in the last year."

robby fell in line with you as the both of you made a beeline to the echo of a flat line. his eyes peered at you from above his glasses, "seems like you may need to start counting on that second hand," he grinned.

the hours of the shift lulled on with distractions from angry patients in the waiting room, new med students bouncing about, myrna’s continued attempts to hit on anyone who breathed, and a bidding war over a stolen ambulance. there truly is no normalcy in the ED but for certain a mass casualty incident was far from normal.

it shouldn’t have surprised that the squeak of the sliding doors allowed for the entrance of abbot. his mouth morphed into a straight line, eyes quickly catching yours before offering robby a hug. robby and abbot ordered out commands completely transforming the structure and practice of the ED before the arrivals. every single doctor and nurse tended and moved to the injured allowing for the best possible care even with the tight restrictions in place.

“abbot!” robby yelled out, eyes and hands focused on his patient.

“what’s up?” his rough voice called back, moving to the next gurney.

“you got LMAs in your bag?”

with a confirmation, robby beckoned mckay to grab abbot’s go-bag. quickly, the blood-covered gloves came flying off and his hands fumbled around the open pocket. robby knew he grabbed the LMA but what he wasn’t expecting was the added bonus wrapped around the protective packet.

a silver chain with a flower gleaming at robby.

“is…is that…?”

mckay tried stifling a laugh as she shot a look towards an oblivious abbot. robby toyed with the silver chain for a brief moment before the chaos around him pulled him back to reality.

robby slid the necklace back into the backpack, “it has to be,” he replied with a smirk.

the mess of the MCI made it difficult for robby or mckay to question you or abbot about the necklace. abbot was laser-focused ordering out commands while you were cloaked in crimson darting around.

robby knew there was always something between you and abbot. abbot was devoted to his work despite his numerous roof visits, but what first raised suspicions was when he would come into a shift way too early a few weeks after you started. abbot was punctual by half an hour, maybe an hour, but suddenly that morphed into a full-length feature film early.

abbot would arrive and glance at your charts, silently admiring your thought process. though medical terminology can sometimes feel like its own language your documentation was effortlessly easy to follow and he often tried to mimic your work. abbots been in the field long enough but even he can learn something new. he was enamored by your drive and care for patients, you never wavered in your professionalism no matter how hard a patient may be. the kindness you exuded to your fellow co-workers had him taking note to have a bit more grace for others.

you could tell abbot had a heightened interest in you. his rough and tough exterior was a bit wobbly around you. you would find abbot following you throughout the last two hours of your shift, an invisible tether with a short leash and if you strayed too far he would come jerking towards you. abbot would situate himself beside you in the trauma rooms, not because he didn’t think you could do it, but because he knows you can do it and he wants a front-row seat to bear witness. his hand would brush against yours while you two did the tango passing equipment around. abbot thanked god he didn’t have a heart monitor on when you peered at him, eyes crinkled and smile hiding behind a mask.

it was a chilly evening and a couple stories in the air when abbot officially broke the ice. you had wandered up to the roof to watch the moon exchange places with the sun as abbot made his way to his shift, from the sidewalk outside he could see your figure above. it didn't take long for him to trudge up the stairs and onto the concrete roof. unbeknownst to abbot, he was greeted by your figure leaning against the metal bars, backside to him. god—he felt like he was back in high school blushing over his crush.

"how was your day?" he asked now by your side.

"easy going actually," you nodded, "how are you, how’ve you been sleeping?"

"could always be better, but y’know...thrilled to be here," abbot replied now looking towards you.

a small laugh left your nose, "we all know you love it here. it can be hell but we all seem to thrive."

abbot to this day doesn't know what possessed him to utter these next words. perhaps the moment just felt, right. the slight chill in the air signaling pittsburgh's looming winter, the laughter of the couples wandering the streets, or maybe it was the way the moonlight shone on your face. the white glow highlighting and contouring the plane and the way the light bounced off your eyes. god, what color even were they now? abbot swears he has never seen a shade so beautiful.

"nowhere is hell if you are around."

so here you are now, naive to the fact robby and mckay have discovered your little secret. that missing necklace of yours tangled in abbot's supplies. the silver chain abandoned and forgotten about after a weekend lake trip in which abbot insisted his go-bag needed to come "just in case". his fingers had danced around your neck and unlatched the tiny clasp, tucking the jewelry away in his bag before the two of you waded in the water.

mckay found herself assisting abbot with one of the victims and although it was not the time and place to ask questions, she was itching to.

"hey abbot, where do you bring this?" mckay inquired, head nodding towards the black bag.

abbot peered up from his protective glasses, "uh- usually don't need it. maybe take it camping sometimes, it's usually in my car. why?" he panned out, drilling a small hole into the patient's upper arm.

mckay grabbed a bag of blood, "just curious."

on the other side of the room, robby found himself gravitating towards you. maybe the venture was a way to keep himself from going mad over the horror surrounding him, a slight amusing distraction that he can later pester abbot about. robby waited until you and langdon finished assisting a patient until they were wheeled off into the green zone.

"hey," robby trailed suddenly feeling awkward, "what was that necklace you lost again? i uh- saw a necklace in the staff lounge."

you raised a brow at the question and robby's hands wringing together, "it's silver with a small flower."

"wrong necklace then."

robby drifted back to the red zone with a small smirk, one of his hands came up to rub the disbelief off his face. without missing a step he continued past mckay whispering 'bingo' on his way into a trauma room.

it was another hour before the chaos simmered, the blood-stained floors now vanished, the cries of those suffering gone but still reverberating in your ears. your palm found the hospital wall, head bowed to finally catch the breath you���ve been holding for the last three hours. a hand ghosted your shoulder.

“you okay?” abbot’s head tilted to meet your face, eyes locked.

it was rhetorical but he still meant it. if you strung together any vowels or consonants that suggested you were far from okay abbot would’ve swooped you into his arms and carried you to his house, ignoring the aching pain of his prosthetic.

a nod was all that was needed, silent confirmation that you were still standing. abbot’s eyes drifted towards the door, clear of anyone roaming, “i’m with you. always”, he whispered into your hair.

bags were gathered and goodbyes were muttered as everyone filed out for the night to their respective plans. the late-night beer in the park wasn’t a permanent solution to ease the troubles from the shift but it offered a temporary distraction. it was a small group tonight understandably so with some sitting and others rocking on their feet. keeping up with the secret you and abbot were situated on opposite benches. you nursed the same can of beer listening to the others go back and forth with a watchful eye from abbot.

this would turn into a routine for nights spent at the park. everyone would file out after they raised their blood alcohol level, just enough to make them feel warm. robby usually took a beer to go and donahue would load up the cooler as princess gushed about her new boo. unknowingly leaving the two love birds alone to whisper sweet nothings.

everyone began to scatter leaving you, robby, and abbot to rehash a story about gloria from a few weeks ago. robby stretched his legs which was a typical signal that he was heading out. the large backpack hung from his shoulder as he halted his steps, a click from his lips before he spoke,

"oh," robby started with a scratch of his head, "check abbot's bag for your necklace."

with bludging eyes, you sputtered out incoherent words in pure shock. robby's laughter echoed into the night paired with a quick 'zip!' from beside you. abbot was grateful the dark night masked his burning face.

"i didn't know i left it in there, fuck. jack--i am so sorry."

he gestured for you to finally join him on the bench beside him now alone and secret exposed in the empty park. the chain fell back into its rightful place with the delicate touch of abbot's fingers.

abbot let out a soft chuckle, eyes narrowing in happiness, "there is nothing to be sorry for.”

you fiddled with the chain as anxiety set in. nervous about the potential implications of the ED discovering the secret relationship. not only that, but a small part of you liked the secrecy. you weren’t embarrassed to be with abbot, you loved him even if those three words hadn’t been spoken yet. there was a daring aspect as the two of you navigated the ED pretending to be nothing more than professional acquaintances while simultaneously sneaking into a hidden corner to plant a kiss on the other's cheek or abbot slipping out an inside joke that would fall flat to others but caused you to hide a coy smile. after the shift, you would part ways but it wasn’t long until the familiar knocks echoed from your wooden front door, abbot’s face smiling at you and his curly hair disheveled. he would stumble forward, lips desperate to find yours after a long day, and cusp the side of your neck, his other hand pressed flat against your spine, and your feet edged backward to find a wall for support. abbot would whisper against the base of your throat how he couldn't wait to feel you in his hands and you would push against his firm chest, now guiding him backward till you reached the couch. laughter would bubble up your throat as he hastily ripped off your work clothes.

a hum left your throat, “how many people went into your bag and- and saw?”

abbot’s head leaned back against his neck, a smile itched into his lips and his gravely voice stated, “damn near everyone."

[neonstatic]

hmm... i'm over a week late. am i gonna pull a mary or?

[slu7formen]

uhmmmmmm luke castellan "can I be the godfather?" but he is the actual father??? is that anything?

luke castellan x pregnant!reader

idk if this is what you asked for, but it’s what I understood 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️ pls let me know if I’ve done it wrong (tw: high chances of that)

warnings: reader is pregnant (duh), swearing, fluff ig <3

₊˚⊹♡

"I'm pregnant"

Luke stares at you, his expression stunned. You don't even know if he's happy, sad, scared, or has completely turned into a whole-ass statue.

"What?" he pushes out of his lips with inmerse difficulty.

You sigh. This boy knew damn well you hate having to repeat yourself. "I'm pregnant, Luke"

"I heard what you said" he clarifies, lifiting his hand. "I'm just... trying to process."

There's a weird silence, not tense and thick, but not a comfortable either. You cover your legs more with the blanket, lifiting it up to your tummy, as if trying to cover the ungrown belly that was very much already working on its own to bring to the world a new life.

"How long have you known?" he finally breaks the silence.

"I found out yesterday" you answer.

Luke's eyebrows raise, as if you had just said something far more surprising than ´I'm pregnant´. "And you didn't tell me?" he pushed.

"I'm telling you now!" you retort.

Luke covers his face. You still can't figure out his feelings; if he's mad, if he's excited, if he's freaking out. And that makes you feel a bit scared. You start feeling a bit desperate; you didn't plan what you would do if he didn't react the way you wanted him to react. You didn´t exactly know what reaction you were expecting from him either.

"How did this even happen?"

You give him a look. "Do you want me to explain it to you?"

"Gods-, not..." he smacks his own forehead in an act of dumbness. "I'm sorry"

You nod. At this point, there's nothing else to say or do. The bomb had already been thrown.

"Are you gonna keep it? I mean, do you want to?"

You knew he wasn't asking you to do exactly what you thought of doing the second you saw that test. He was asking you the same question you asked yourself for hours and hours, what were you gonna do now?

You sighed heavily. "You know I've been thinking about leaving camp" you say, forcing Luke to go back to that conversation you two had just a few weeks away, "My time has ended here. Maybe this is what I needed to realize I should leave"

"No, don't be ridiculous" he answers almost immediately.

You raise your eyebrows. "Don't call me ridiculous. You know I can't stay here forever, Luke"

"I'm very much aware of that" Luke seems to want to add something, but he doesn't.

If it were up to Luke, he would stay at camp until the day he died. What could he possibly want from the outside world? Studies? A family? A normal life? He forgot about those possibilities before he even turned twelve. Most demigods outgrew camp, like you wanted to do, but that was not on Luke's radar. You weren't surprised; he was a hero, the perfect son of Hermes. Of course he would stay at camp, and that would only be his first of many heroic achievements.

"I'll leave as soon as camp ends" you state, as if you had suddenly decided it all.

But now, Luke wanted to leave with you. He wanted to take care of you, the same care he's been taking for the last months since he got to know you better, maybe even treat you a lot better, but he couldn't bring himself to ask. You wanted to leave, and you weren't inviting him.

"Then, can I ask you something?" he asks.

You shrug with a small nod, "Anything"

"Can I be the godfather?"

He had a serious face, not the one when he was playing pranks or joking around, the one he wore when he was dead serious. Your stare at his face, ice cold. He seems like he had already come up with the idea, as if that was the first thing that he thought about when you gave him the news.

"Luke, are you fucking dumb?"

The poor guy widens his eyes, surprised by the sudden and very offensive answer. "What did I do?" he asks.

"Why are you asking me to be the godfather when you are the father!?"

His expression turns into an understanding, a sudden ´oh´ moment. "Are you serious?" he asks, almost as if he was asking you if you were totally fully a hundred percent sure.

You wanted to punch his nose.

"Luke. Who else am I having sex with if it isn't you!?" you can't help but yell at his face, his dumbness in a situation like this surprising you more than anything else.

"I was just making sure! What if it was from your ex? You slept with him a few months ago"

"I've been pregnant for less time than that, Luke!"

"I'm sorry! But I had to be sure!"

You take a deep breath, covering your face in frustration.

Luke stares at you for a second, almost as if trying to decipher your own emotions now. Then, he starts laughing, a real laughter. You lift your gaze, seeing his head tilt backwards.

"What are you laughing at?"

"It's just-," Luke's laughs continue for a little longer, "it's so weird. It's so weird to think I'm a dad"

"The dumbest dad to step a toe on earth, yes" you bite back, still unable to believe you were having a whole conversation with a guy that thought he was not the father of your child. Like-, why would you say it first to someone who isn't the father? He ignores your comment, but his lips curling up in a tiny smile. His expression shows you he's happy, and the realization makes your heart jump.

"Can I ask you another question?" he asks again, biting back a little grin forming on his lips.

"Depends, are you gonna ask if we used protection?"

"Would you let me go with you?"

That caught you off guard. You stare at his eyes, dark and shiny in the summer night. He seems nervous, anxious for the answer. His hand is fidgeting, and his leg is jumping. You feel yourself getting a little dizzy, the adrenaline in your blood making you a little more lightheaded.

"Why would you go with me?" you ask, as if the answer would explain all the possible reasons.

"Well, now that I know that it's mine," he begins, trying to lighten the mood a little. The cold stare of your tired eyes makes him instantly stop though. He clears his throat before continuing, "I'd like to help and be by your side. If you let me"

The last words stung a bit, knowing that he knew that there was a chance you would deny his offer. You weren't with Luke, not explicitly, or oficially, yet you'd known him for so long, and so well, that it felt odd not having him in your life. He was like a constant, a stable, and a good friend. It would be difficult, but you knew the road wouldn't be impossible, not if he was the one walking the same path.

"I'd like to take responsability. I don't want this kid to grow the same way you and I and all of the other demigods did" he continues, as if the silence was hurting him.

You'd never met someone as hurt with this whole demigod situation as Luke, which was ironic judging by how perfectly skilled and behaved he was. A clearly absent father, a mother gone mad, living in the streets for years, alone, hungry, cold, sweaty, hurt. If it was you, you wouldn't have survived, yet he managed to put on that mask and walk out and not let anyone know how destroyed his heart was. Luke was strong, which led him to be heroic. Did he need it? No, but he knew when and who to use it with. You loved that about him.

Besides, he was good with kids.

"You know, you're not the worst choice of a father" you tease. You can see him smile, relieved, his shoulders relaxing.

"Really?" he asks, hopeful.

He smiles widely, and his smile is so contagious that you can't help but mirror him. He pushes himself off his seat in a flash, kneeling next to you. He puts his arms around your body and lifts you up. You laugh loudly, surprised by the sudden act. You wrap your arms around his neck and let him lift you off the bed.

He stops for a moment, gently putting you down on the floor again. He hugs you softly then, pressing his forehead to yours.

"We're suppossed to get married now, right?" he asks with a tilt of his head.

"What?"

[ridingtorohan]

Armin, Jean, Eren and Mikasa overhearing

their crush saying "why would I tell them that I like them? I can't compete with (Annie/Mikasa/Eren)".

-> Masterlist - Join the taglist! &lt;-

Content Warning: Self-loathing under Armin's section.

Armin's brain completely stutters to a stop the moment he overhears it, his ribs feeling like they might concave at the slightest moment. He's overwhelmed and flustered, unable to look you in the eyes for the days to come, regardless if you knew he overheard or not. Stewing in it comes easy; talking to you about it is another.

Ever since the Scouts reclaimed Shiganshina, he's been plagued with self doubt. With feeling inadequate and so much self loathing that it's hard to put the pieces back together. Talking to Annie wasn't anything important to him- not like you were.

He was visiting Annie's crystal because he felt flawed, a mistake. A part of him ached to be needed, to satisfy that part of him that wanted to justify what they did to her. That thought: if Annie could be salvaged, couldn't he? That he wasn't a monster because of what happened.

With you it was different; he could express his fears and vulnerabilities. No one else had seen this side to him; the drive to be better, who saw him at his lowest and drove him to excel. Annie was an ideal, a ghost that he couldn't chase.

You? You were real. You, who fought alongside him, helped him to his feet, metaphorically and possibly physically. The way you held yourself, interacted with him. How could he not admire you? Like you?

What did he do to make you think this way? That you weren't so utterly important to him?

Armin tends to be more withdrawn with you around since he overheard that comment, trying to find the right words to say. Bravery comes not from the brain, as they say.

"I like you too!" He exclaims one day, red-faced and stumbling over his words as he tries to make them come out. Strategy planning is easy; risking people is a burden he can handle. But risking you?

Armin stampers through a confession that he heard you that day. But he's earnest, heart on his sleeve because it's only ever belonged to you.

"I didn't like her that way at all! I've only liked you, and, if you're - wanting to, we could-" He stammers through his sentences, getting utterly redfaced and earnest as he tries to find the right words to say. Later, it'll be easier when he's not pouring his heart out, but he knows you deserve to know. That maybe he deserves this too.

Him? You like Jean? Those overheard words don't really process through Jean's mind quickly enough as he passes by the room you're in.

It's a lot to unpack, mostly because you didn't want to tell him.

His words simmer in his throat. He thinks he can push this down; smother it like he's done so many other things. A part of him thinks it should die like that - after all, you didn't plan to say anything. Didn't think he was worth it, to share that secret with.

But he lives with regrets - Marco - not shooting -- but also not living up to the life that he wants. That he knows he deserves.

It's sprung on you, later, when the two of you are filling up gas cylinders.

"I'm not in love with Mikasa." They're heavy words met with silence but he means them, eyes downcast as his hands idle. The silence is damning but you're worth it. By the Walls, you've always been worth it. "And I never have been. I liked her before, but." He gives a slight roll of his shoulders, trying to find the right words.

But he isn't a coward and he doesn't want to waste time, especially knowing that you feel the same way. Looking up, his eyes dart from you, to the wall and back again. "You can't compare to her." And, that sounds so much worse when he says it so he grabs tightly onto your arm, forcing your eyes to meet. "Fuck, I mean, you're not competing with her. Alright?"

He makes a sound, torn between a sigh and a groan as he runs his hands through his hair. "I heard what you said, before, about - You're not her, and I don't want you to be. I'd never choose her over you. I love you." It's not quite what he meant to say but the words fall easily, readily. "And dammit, I really wish you'd choose me too."

Mikasa is, unfortunately, standing behind you when those words leave your lips. When you inevitably turn to face her, there's no hint of what she's thinking visible on her face. Her cool eyes never leave you even when one of the captains walk in to deliver another mission.

Outwardly, everything she does seems to come off as a rejection; she doesn't talk to you about it, doesn't treat you differently. If one considers less and less talk as 'not any different'.

Not talking to you though... it feels like a small candle sputtering out - and her hands burn beneath the wax.

She's... not sure how to process any of that at all. She'd always been so concerned with Eren, with Armin and helping them accomplish their lifelong dreams. She never really took a moment to dwell in her own thoughts.

Her thoughts on Eren were chaotic at best; clouded by their game of tug-of-war, always trying to mother him, protect him. Getting shunned for it. She never had to do that with you - not to the same extent, anyway.

Hearing you say those words - "I like her" -- it's putting a name to the face she'd seen in her mind. Like. Affection. A warmth in her chest whenever she saw you, accompanied with a low and simmering trust. How easy it was, for once, to look at someone and have them look right back, and see her for who she is.

She only mentions it, much later, when you're both assigned to a practice mission. Where only time and the sun overhead is your company, forced to wait idle until a new command is issued.

"I want to talk about what you said," is how she begins. "About liking me." Her hands move to her scarf, something raw wedged in her chest that makes her feel so vulnerable with her face bared. Instead, her fingers loosen and it remains still around her neck. She wants you to see her as she is, what she's offering you.

"Eren is... like family to me. I would do anything for him." It's a brutal, almost cold way that she says those words. She means it, and you mean a lot to her, so she doesn't want any confusion.

"But you are not Eren. You are not family to me and I don't want you to be. You're important to me too. I don't want you to see me as your sister or protector." Her grey eyes search yours, searching for any kind of sign. "I like you too."

Eren has the most physical reaction. Shoulders locking, back straightening and all but sprinting as he rushes up to you. "What!" His mouth is running hot and fast, not able to get the words out fast enough.

Eren is a man of action; thinking things through wasn't his strong suit, nor did it ever have to be. But Mikasa? Mikasa!? Out of everyone? The girl who he grew up with, routinely tried to shield him from everything? Frustration rises hot in his throat as he thinks - didn't you know him at all?

How could he ever like Mikasa when there was you? You who defended him, humoured his ideals, cheered him on during his training, didn't see him for the monster he thought he was.

Weaving between cadets, racing as fast as he can to you, he knows he has to put his foot down. He's tired of all the secrets and lies, and he certainly doesn't want any between the two of you. Not when it's something like this.

"I don't like her!" Each word is punctuated loud and fast, trying to squash that idea as quickly as it came. Why did everybody always think that? He's gestulating, trying to get you to look at him, ignoring how your confidants stare at him. "Mikasa is -" His face scrunches up, harsh words on his tongue, resentful but not towards you. You've never treated him as fragile or incapable. How could he ever think of her that way when you filled that spot?

"We're not like that at all!" He adds, promising himself that he'll explain it in a calmer discussion later. "I wanted you!"

[meetmeinanotherworld]

Guess who just came up with a new super simple "method" to help people affirm and shift to their desired realities!!!

(I'll give you a hint. It's me.)

So, obviously we all know that methods are absolutely unnecessary when it comes to shifting. Like COMPLETELY unnecessary. They're just tools to help, but they aren't what make you shift. YOU make you shift.

But with that being said, I did just think of something that I believe will help a lot of people. Because we all know that there are still a lot of shifters that overcomplicate shifting, even if they aren't intending to. I think some people aren't even aware of it. But when you try for a super long time, I think some people subconsciously think it's more difficult than it is and struggle to believe that they'll shift during their attempt, even if they do believe in shifting. So I thought of this last night, and I think a lot of people will find it useful because it makes it feel a lot less complicated and lower stakes (in my personal opinion).

So I was thinking last night about how weird it is that I struggle with lucid dreaming more (don't worry, this is not about the lucid dream method), even though I have always had super vivid dreams my whole life and will even sometimes find myself in a dream partially aware that it's a dream, but still not really lucid. And I was thinking about how many times I've had dreams based on just thoughts I had before bed or like content I was interacting with before I fell asleep. Like I'll watch something and it'll be in my dreams, or I'll think of someone and they'll be in my dreams.

So I started thinking, why not use that to my advantage? I'm not even talking about using it to lucid dream and using the lucid dream method. I feel like that might work for some people, but it hasn't worked for me. No, this is much simpler. I was thinking, why not think of a specific thing to incorporate into the dream and when you see it in the dream, you know you'll shift. Hear me out for a second because this might be a bit hard for me to explain.

My theory for this method sort of follows the theory that sometimes when you're dreaming about your desired reality, you've actually shifted to that reality but you don't realize because you woke up in your cr. So dreaming is a process that involves your consciousness. Shifting is also something that involves your consciousness. When you communicate an idea to your subconscious, it holds onto that and it's part of how you get the dreams that you have. So for example, if you set your intention to have part of your dream take place in a grocery store, you can tell yourself that when you have that dream, you are in your desired reality. That your consciousness will know that when you dream that you're in a grocery store, you're actually in your desired reality and you will wake up there.

It's sort of like the lucid dream method, except you don't have to worry about the step of becoming lucid. Because I know part of the lucid dream method that a lot of people follow is that they'll make a portal and they'll shift through the portal. But a lot of people will use the lucid dream method to just set the intention of waking up in their desired reality and affirm to themselves that they're just dreaming in their desired reality at that moment. So it's like that, except you don't even have to become lucid.

So basically, all you have to do is think of something before bed. It can be a person, a place, an object, whatever. You could think of being in a store, or a friends house, or an open field, or think of talking to your s/o, or a family member, or a friend, or you could be around lava lamps, or a sword, or a basketball. Whatever. Just relax before you go to bed and affirm to yourself that something will be in your dream and let it happen. And maybe you'll become lucid too, which would also be great because then you can use the lucid dream method. But you don't have to. Just trust that it'll happen and that your consciousness will know that once you see xyz in your dream, that you are in your desired reality already.

I thought of this because I was thinking about how many times I've just thought of something and then it ended up in my dreams and I realized a good practice for affirming/setting intentions would be to just affirm what I want to see in my dreams and let it happen. But then I took it a step further and thought about applying it to shifting. It is a super simple, low stakes, lazy girl method. You don't have to do anything except relax, trust yourself, and dream. No laying in a specific position, no counting to 100, no subliminals or anything necessary (unless you want).

I just think it's such a great practice for anyone who has any doubts. I mean, you know that dreaming is real, right? You know that when you sleep at night, you'll be able to dream, right? So you can at the very least practice setting your intentions for your dreams. So even if you end up not waking up in your desired reality, you're at least getting in practice for affirming and setting your intention. And if you can do it in a dream, you can do it for shifting. Because it's all just tied to your consciousness.

A step by step example for anyone who needs a little extra clarity-

(And remember to take what resonates and leave what doesn't. You can do whatever feels right for yourself.)

Step one: do what you normally do to go to bed. You don't have to do anything extra unless you want to do anything extra. Do whatever you need to do to relax. I enjoy watching asmr before bed until I start feeling super relaxed and like I could fall asleep and then I'll turn on rain noises or brown noise or something like that to keep me in a relaxed state.

Step two: as you're relaxed, start thinking about what you want to see in your dream before you fall asleep. For this example, we'll say that I want it to snow in my dream. So I'll affirm to myself that it will snow in my dream. I'll say things like "I want it to snow in my dream" "at some point, it will be snowing in my dream" "it will be snowy in my dreams tonight" etc. Just do whatever works best for you.

Step three: as you start affirming and setting your intention, start incorporating shifting. Tell yourself that when you have that dream, you'll know you've shifted and you will wake up in your desired reality. I'd tell myself things like "when it's snowing in my dreams, I know I'm in my desired reality" "I am already asleep and dreaming in my desired reality" "I will wake up in my desired reality" "when I see the snow, I am already there" etc. Again, just say whatever you want.

Step four: go to sleep. That's it. Think about snow as you fall asleep (or whatever you want) and just trust yourself. This is a sleep method. Don't worry about "symptoms." There are no symptoms. Shifting is not a physical process. Don't worry about shifting while you're doing the method. You will shift in your sleep and wake up in your desired reality. That is the point. Trust yourself and really, genuinely believe that it will happen. Honestly, try not to even think about the act of shifting and focus more on just knowing that you'll wake up in your desired reality. Trust that when you're dreaming, you are dreaming in your desired reality.

If you decide to try this, let me know how it goes and how you like it. Remember, methods are not at all necessary to shift. And if you don't feel like this resonates with you, you don't need to try it at all. I just like it because it's simple, just like shifting is. You don't need elaborate methods. Just trust and intention.

[httpsserene]

Heyyy, I just found your tumblr and I'm completely obsessed with your writing. Could you write something for Lance Stroll with a Latina reader who isn't rich at all, but they both love each other and have been in a relationship for a while. It could be with the established relationship prompt 13, 18, and 19. Thank you so much.

🛞  tread’s uneven: time for a tire rotation! — send me a driver and a prompt from this list of pre-relationship prompts, or these established relationship prompts, or these hurt/comfort prompts, and i’ll write a blurb or drabble for you xxx (prompt lists are made by me!)

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. unrelated but, did i imagine carlos mentioning that he was a fan of the marias in one of the old mclaren yt videos? because, i've been listenting to the band religiously for the past two nights while i've been writing and i'm soooo mad that i didn't listen to them sooner :( happy 3k 🩷 babes, xo !

⌕ 3k v-day celly nav | all 3k requests | main nav | table of contents ↻

#𝟏𝟑. "can i kiss you?" "you know you don't have to ask me anymore, right?" #𝟏𝟖. telling their family that they think they're going to marry you. #𝟏𝟗. staring at your lips when you talk. fem!latina!reader x lance stroll.

lance fell in love with you when he was ten years old.

you followed your brother to all of his karting races, and lance would always ask if you wanted to pass around a football with him before the sessions began. he was distraught when your brother told him that he wasn’t going to be racing next year because of the cost—and, lance knew that meant he wasn’t going to see you again.

he didn’t get to say goodbye, but that didn’t mean he was going to forget you.

every passing year, lance sleuthed through your brother’s social media platforms to see if you had interacted or been tagged on one of his posts. he was fourteen when you made an account. he was seventeen when you finally accepted his follow request.

lance waited a few days before liking three of your posts and commenting on the most recent one with a classic response to test the waters, “😍😍😍.” it was another day before you replied with a sequence of emoji’s that let him knew he still had a chance, “😳☺️🤭.”

his opportunity to reach out came when you posted a photo of yourself studying in a coffee shop with the location tagged—you were in quebec. 

lance laughed to himself in the hotel lobby in some european country. you may have never returned to the karting tracks, but you still lived in quebec—all this time, you were closer than he thought.

he liked the story and sent you a dm. he kept it simple: “i think you owe me a couple of football matches when i’m back home?”

one year later, the two of you were happily dating. now, many years later, he’s supposed to be paying attention to what you’re telling him about chloe’s wedding rehearsal later tonight but he’s forgotten to listen as he watches your lips move around consonants and vowels.

“your sister is freaking out about the flower arrangements and the wedding planner has no sense of urgency! ¡ninguina!” he watches you giggle hysterically for a beat before you continue venting, “as a bridesmaid, i’m allowed to beat her ass right—”

“—can i kiss you?” lance interrupts.

he watches your annoyance evaporate the moment you process his question, your tightly wound shoulders relaxing along with your expression. you lean forward and lance meets you halfway, pressing his lips to yours and holding you there with his fingers lightly grasping your chin.

the two of you pull away after a few moments and lance presses his lips together, savoring the taste of you and the tingle of your lip gloss.

��stop distracting me,” you slap his chest, narrowing your eyes at him warningly before turning your harsh gaze to scan over the room, “no me impedirá luchar contra ella…”

he sighs dreamily as he watches you stomp away to beat chloe’s wedding planner into submission, your dress billowing in the wind beautifully. lance jumps at the sound of his dad’s deep laughter, startling as the man claps his hand on his shoulder heartily. 

“what?” lance questions, and finds himself genuinely confused as his dad’s only response is a shake of his head as he continues chuckling.

chloe appears on his other side, an amused smirk on her face as she looks up at him, “he’s laughing at how completely gone you are for her.”

“whatever,” lance scoffs, his cheeks redding at the ribbing even though he feigns indifference about it, “shouldn’t you stop her from killing your wedding planner? and!—you’re the one getting married this weekend, you can’t say shit to me about how ‘gone’ i look.”

“she’s my maid of honor. it’s her job to kill my wedding planner,” his sister giggles, “but, how do you manage to look more ‘in love’ than the couple who’s about to tie the knot?”

“because,” lance tugs at the strand of hair that was artfully left out of her intricate updo, a true little brother action, and dodges the punch she throws out in response (what is with the women in his life trying to assault him?), “i’m going to be marrying her one day in the future, hopefully sooner than later.”

“you’ve been looking at her like that for the entire seven years you’ve been together. only god knows why you haven’t made her an official member of the family yet,” his dad huffs out over his glass of champagne, “...you’re disappointing me.”

ignoring their dad, chloe squints at lance, “just don’t propose during my reception—that’s corny, and my sister-in-law deserves something better than that.”

© httpsserene — do not reupload. photos in header from pinterest. divider by @cafekitsune.

[heartsforvin]

ONLINE LOVE

thank you nonnie for the request !! i hope you like it (:

pairing: gamer!vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings: cussing, sexual jokes / innuendos, pure fluff

summary: when vinnie goes on omegle one random night out of boredom, he doesn’t expect to meet you and fall in love in the process

with nothing to do on a friday night, vinnie decided to go on omegele. he hadn't been on the site in years, and honestly thought it had gotten banned.

tagging it with a few trendy things, vinnie fixed up his appearance just a bit before clicking on the video option.

of course he knew he wasn't going to get lucky with someone not showing their junk right away, so he wasn't disappointed when he saw some random guy's dick.

after a few skips and boring people, he finally got to you. "holy shit." he thought he said that in his head, but when you looked up, he knew he didn't.

with a furrow to your eyebrows, you give him a small smile as you say hello.

vinnie can't help but give himself a few extra minutes to stare, you were just so pretty. after a minute, he clears his throat and smiles.

"i'm sorry," he apologizes with a laugh. "just didn't expect to see such a pretty girl."

blushing, you thank him with a smile of your own. "you're not so bad yourself." you reply.

vinnie chuckles as he thanks you like you did him. overtime, the two of you ask each other questions about the other, along with interests.

"you play any video games?" he asks you, and you smile with a shake to your head.

it was honestly kind of hard to focus on conversation with him. the first thing you had noticed when he popped up on your screen was his eyes.

vinnie notices you staring at him and smirks. "am i really that nice to look at?" he chuckles.

you rid your thoughts quickly, almost being embarrassed that he caught you. you wouldn't have the confidence to admit it, but he was good to look at.

smiling, you quickly divert the conversation to his previous question. "not much of a gamer really, unless you count the sims." you say.

vinnie laughs and shakes his head. "nah i'm talkin' real games." he tells you.

rolling your eyes playfully, you give him a scoff. "oh so you're one of those people." you say with a laugh.

when vinnie heard you laugh he swore his heart skipped a beat, and not even to be dramatic. he watched as you went on and on about how the sims was real gaming.

he saw your smile and knew that's something he wanted to see more of. "woah hey, calm down." vinnie laughs as he cuts you off.

you smile, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "what? sims is real gaming, you nerd." you tell him.

vinnie takes in your appearance again and the clothes you're wearing. he can't get enough of you and he just met you.

you do the same, looking at him through the laptop screen, faint blush spreads across your cheeks.

vinnie stands up and the breath is almost knocked out of you when he does. he's wearing sweatpants and a white tank top, muscles on full display.

"you lookin' at my arms or...?" vinnie asks with a chuckle as he sees you staring. "because i can give you soethin' to look at."

laughing, you roll your eyes at him again. "definitely don't want to see that. i've seen too many."

vinnie chuckles and nods his head, completely understanding. although, it doesn't stop him from making a comment.

"you sure? because i do have a tattoo there, but if you don't want see i guess you'll never know." he shrugs.

you wish you were near him so you could hit his arm, instead, you result in a playful scoff and sarcastic reply. "you do not have a tattoo there."

the blonde laughs but shrugs again. "how'd you know if you've never seen it?"

this time, its your turn to shrug. "guess i'll just have to take your word for it." you tell him.

the playful banter continues for about another hour. neither you or vinnie thought you'd actually meet a decent person on this site tonight, but you're both happy you did.

"okay," you say, getting vinnie's attention back onto you and not his phone. "other than gaming, what do you do?"

vinnie stifles a laugh at the question, knowing his answer. "i stream." he tells you.

you already know his answer to your next question so he beats you to it by saying, "yes, i do stream video games."

you can't help but smile. "nerd." you comment with a laugh.

vinnie fires back. "you don't even play real video games, don't even give me that kind of attitude." he says with a laugh.

you brush him off with a scoff. that brought your attention back to the sims games and how you now suddenly got an idea.

"hey vinnie," you get his attention again and he looks up at you. "what if i told you i'm about to make you and me in sims?"

you were half joking, although you did think about the idea of it. vinnie furrows his eyebrows but has a smile on his face.

"that's cute, you should." he tells you, making you smile.

you nod, telling him you'll do it after you get done talking. the two of you talk more for a bit, jokes are made, smiles are shared along with laughs, and vinnie did make one or two comments about you blushing.

in all honesty, he was doing the same thing an you probably could notice. he couldn't help himself, he was starting to think he was falling a bit in love with you.

he did think it was way too soon to tell and you two had known each other for no longer than four hours.

silence fills you two for a minute before vinnie interrupts the silence with what you'd say is a crazy statement.

"you know what you could do if we ever do meet and possibly have a thing going?" he asks, and you don't reply right away, taking his words in.

you didn't want to rush anything at all, but the chemistry between the two of you was very noticeable. so, you raise your eyebrow as you wait for him to tell you.

he smirks, anf you instantly know its another one of his dirty jokes. "never had support from under the desk before."

the minute that sentence leaves his mouth your laughing loudly, quickly trying to stop yourself.

you give him that same look back, smirk turning into a smile as you tease him and tell him maybe one day it'll happen.

you both talk for a bit longer until the two of you decide to call it a night. before yo go, vinnie asks you for your number and you happily give it to him.

he was definitely falling in love with you now if he wasn't already.

thank you nonnie for the request again !! i hope you liked it + everyone else reading this (:

comments, reblogs + feedback of any kind is appreciated <33

tags: @sturnioloshacker , @anqeliclust , @cosmicanakin , @42angelgirl , @leqonsluv3r , @khackerr , @louloulemons-blog , @visualbutterflysworld , @bernelflo , @slvthrs , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @supabhad , @kriissy4gov , @kayleighh , @hallecarey1 , @laylasbunbunny , @defnotayonna , @khxna , @jpg3 , @skye-44 , @eddieslut69 , @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom , @miilzzy

[222col]

BOT DUMP by @ 222col ✧˖°⊹♡

fine line - harry styles ꩜

꒰ notes ꒱ 1000 followers on c.ai??!!!?? holy shit that's insane !!!!!!! & 400k interactions. wtf thank u all so much. the final harry album i've yet to do, apologies a lot of the bots are sad/breakup bots, the album is very breakup heavy </3 but there's a lot of angsty fun to be had <3 enjoy angels!!! any feedback is welcomed in my inbox <3

ART DONALDSON (challengers) `✦ˑ ִֶ ⊹

⋆⭒˚.⋆ ( golden )

✩ you were the light in art's life, you lit up every room you walked into. art was ready to risk getting burned if it meant he had a chance of getting closer to you. but god, did that burn sting when you told him you were going on a date with someone else. ( partly inspired by laurie's monologue in 'little women' (2019) )

ART AND PATRICK (challengers) `✦ˑ ִֶ ⊹

⋆⭒˚.⋆ ( watermelon sugar )

✩ the three of you had been friends all throughout boarding school, but you were blissfully unaware how much both art and patrick had many more-than-friendly thoughts about you. a day at the beach after graduation brings those thoughts to the forefront, and art and patrick realise— they'd be more than willing to share.

ROMAN GODFREY (hemlock grove) `✦ˑ ִֶ ⊹

⋆⭒˚.⋆ ( adore you )

✩ roman was beyond in love with you, would do anything for you. everyone could see it, how different he acted around you compared to everyone else. the only person who couldn't see it was you, you were completely oblivious to his affections, and driving him crazy.

ART DONALDSON (challengers) `✦ˑ ִֶ ⊹

⋆⭒˚.⋆ ( lights up )

✩ it came as no surprise that art's new band were making waves in the music scene. challengers were taking the world by storm, small shows were a thing of the past. art became a new person, and lost you in the process, all because of a fuckin' groupie. thing is, art has no idea who he is without you.

PATRICK ZWEIG (challengers) `✦ˑ ִֶ ⊹

⋆⭒˚.⋆ ( cherry )

✩ you'd been broken up a year, yet the sting of hearing you call someone else baby hit patrick deep. he needed to be the one you called baby. hence why after some light stalking of your instagram, he's showing up at the bar you're at, midway through a date.

ERIC DRAVEN (the crow) `✦ˑ ִֶ ⊹

⋆⭒˚.⋆ ( falling )

✩ eric was heartbroken, so pained by your breakup that all he could do was sit alone and write songs about you. dreaming of you, wishing you were next to him again. seeing you in the crowd after the end of his show, all he can feel is himself falling in love all over again.

PATRICK ZWEIG (challengers) `✦ˑ ִֶ ⊹

⋆⭒˚.⋆ ( to be so lonely )

✩ 7 missed calls and a stream of drunken texts at 2:30am from your ex-situationship, what a treat! patrick's drunk, missin' you and feeling bad. it's been months, yet now he wants to apologise (oh! and sleep on a bed, not in his car).

ROMAN GODFREY (hemlock grove) `✦ˑ ִֶ ⊹

⋆⭒˚.⋆ ( she )

✩ roman had been having dreams again, but this time they weren't scary. they were all about you, but he didn't even know if you were real. you were haunting his daydreams, he was desperate to find you. he can't believe his luck when you walk into the bar he's in, his dream girl, in the flesh.

ART DONALDSON (challengers) `✦ˑ ִֶ ⊹

⋆⭒˚.⋆ ( sunflower, vol 6 )

✩ the flowers patrick had given you before he dumped you had barely died by the time art was swooping in to pick up the pieces. the petals had just fallen off as art grows desperate, he can't hold back much longer— he's wanted you since he laid eyes on you.

LEE (bones and all) `✦ˑ ִֶ ⊹

⋆⭒˚.⋆ ( canyon moon )

✩ lee never thought he'd miss virginia, never thought he'd go back after what happened with his dad. but god, he was missing nights under the stars with you. regretting ever leaving you, he's driving back with one thing in mind, telling you how sorry he is for leaving.

RIFF LORTON (west side story) `✦ˑ ִֶ ⊹

⋆⭒˚.⋆ ( treat people with kindness )

✩ riff's whole life changed the day tony died, he was ready to start a war. until he laid eyes on you, and you told him he wasn't getting a dance with you until his fighting days were over. riff never thought he'd disband the jets, but for you? in a heartbeat.

PATRICK ZWEIG (challengers) `✦ˑ ִֶ ⊹

⋆⭒˚.⋆ ( fine line )

✩ you and patrick met at the worst time for both of you, and almost immediately knew it was right person, wrong time. after tashi's injury, patrick's too scared to hurt someone else again, that all he can think to do is end it, but god is it killing him.

© 222col. do not steal or repost my work.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Just Take It | Bonus Drabble 6

Summary: Your water breaks and Jungkook takes care of everything. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 971 (ik it's short but I hope you enjoy 🥰) Warning: Pregnancy and the beginnings of labor a/n: Barely edited per usual Requested by: an anon 💜 Start from the beginning

"Jungkook" I say, standing in place not daring to move a muscle when I feel a puddle of water start pooling around me, knowing it would happen soon...but not this soon.

"Coming!" he calls from downstairs, unsuspecting of everything yet and soon he's walking through our doorway. "Hey what was that splashing sound I just hea-" he asks, stopping in his tracks when he sees the same puddle I've been staring at since it happened.

"Did...did your water break?" he asks, walking over to me tentatively, seeing how distressed I already look. "I think so?" I say, not completely sure since this is my first pregnancy and there were so many things I had to learn along the way. 

"It's okay let's just get in the car and I'll call the doctor when we're on our way" he says gently, ushering me out of the room and down the stairs carefully, no doubt wishing I would've just stopped using them when I was this far along.

"I'll run back upstairs and get the bag" he says, placing a kiss on my temple and practically flying up them, going two or even three steps at a time. 

I breath through what I had thought were just Braxton Hicks, thinking they would eventually go away but it all makes sense now since these have lasted for so much longer. 

I had been hiding the fact that I had been feeling them all day today so I know when I tell the nurses how far apart my contractions are Jungkook's going to be upset that I didn't tell him sooner. 

He's back downstairs in a flash, bringing me a simple maxi dress so I can take off the one I'm wearing which is now wet as well as some underwear that he knows I don't care about. He helps me change and gives me one of his big warm coats to put on over it and soon we're in the car on our way to the hospital, the nurse on speaker phone letting her know we're coming. 

"How far apart are your contractions?" she asks, taking note so she can see how far along we are into the process already. "About ten minutes apart, they last for about a minute but I haven't really timed it so I don't know for sure" I relay and cut myself off with a sharp intake of breath when another one comes on.

"Okay and you guys are how far out?" she asks, concerned that things are progressing pretty quickly since we're not there yet. "About ten minutes, her water broke like five minutes ago" he says, trying to keep his voice as level as possible but I know he's nervous. 

"Well just drive safe and we'll be waiting for you outside when you get here" she relays and hangs up soon after, leaving Jungkook to do as instructed. 

"It's okay, we'll make it in time" I say, rubbing Jungkook's arm, hoping to give him some sense of comfort. "Are you okay? Do they hurt a lot?" he asks, glancing over at me, even more concerned now that he sees that I'm sweating, but when he tries to put the a/c on I stop him, telling him I'm cold.

"They're not too bad" I say but my face contorts in pain once another one starts, breathing through it leaving Jungkook following to keep me on track. "We're almost there" he says, the eta reading four minutes now and I nod and close my eyes, willing myself to stay strong through this.

Once we're in the parking lot he sees the nurses waiting with a wheelchair for me at the front and pulls right up to the entrance, getting out to help me out of the car before parking in one of the spots right up front with a labor and delivery sign on it.

"How are you my darling?" Jungkook says once we're reunited in my hospital room, the staff having just settled me in before going to get the doctor. He runs his fingers through my hair and although it's dampened with sweat he doesn't seem to mind at all.

"I'm okay" I say in a hushed tone, the contractions getting closer together now but both of us feel a sense of relief now that we're finally here and safe in the hospital. "I love you so much, you're doing so well" he says, placing a kiss on my forehead, a soft smile rounding my lips. 

"How long do you think it'll take?" I ask, dreading how long this journey will be and he just gives me a pained smile in response. "I don't know, but just know that I'll be with you every step of the way" he says and places a kiss on the back of my hand, holding it between both of his.

"Just remember that after all of this we'll be walking out of here with our beautiful baby boy or baby girl" he reminds me and I smile again at the thought of it, the three of us finally together. 

"And you'll be happy? I know you wanted a girl but will you be happy if it's a boy?" I ask, both of us deciding early on that we wanted the gender to be a surprise. "Of course I'll be happy" he rushes to say, wanting to quell any of my worries. 

"They are a physical representation of the love we share so I will be happy no matter what" he says giving me that last reassurance I need. "I love you" I say and he smiles and leans down to kiss me, "I love you too" he responds and rests his hand on my stomach, one of the last times he'll do so before our beautiful blessing comes into the world, the one we've been waiting for for so long...

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @coralmusicblaze @whoa-jo @00frenchfries00 @pastelpinkjoon Taglist continued in the comments 💜

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[jensthwa]

mountebank chem pt. three (JYH x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

* 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤: 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐲. The first time you met Yunho, you knew he was going to be part of the biggest tragedy of your life: the loss of your freedom, of your free will. You didn't know why back then but what you did figure out is that you and Jeong Yunho were going to, eventually and very publicly, date each other at some point. Is that reason enough to hate his guts? Well, of course! Now, when the time comes to fulfill the prophecy, how the hell are you going to pull it off? And, most importantly, what do you need to do to not fall in love with him in the process?

PAIRING: rich!yunho x rich!reader.

GENRE: enemies to friends to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 16.5k (dear god).

WARNINGS: eventual SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, this chapter is truly them being cute and barely fighting which is ???, healthy competition i think, they get a serious case of the silly goose at some point, mentions of drinking at some point, gyuri being an overprotective friend, meeting new people, emotional talk involving kids yall will see why, pet names (princess), descriptions of female and male anatomy, first kisses!! *the crowd cheers*, a little bit of dry humping... *the crowd boos* and unresolved feelings!!!! *the crowd AND y/n leave in angry tears*.

NOTES: hi everyone! here's part three of this mini series that is PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH / SHOW & TELL UNIVERSE. so, so sorry it took so long but i had a bit of a writer's block these past months :(. there's mentions of the last installment plot so, if you're new around here, you can always find the rest of this series and the rest of the stories of this universe on my masterist! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: december 5th 2024.

masterlist - part one - part two.

There's this image of you that flashes across Yunho’s mind. 

It happened right before he fell asleep last night, too, and he's having a hard time figuring out if he only dreamed it or if it actually happened. 

The skin on your back glistening, the cut of the dress after he pulled down the zipper just enough to not be disrespectful. 

He did it out of instinct, out of the sudden familiarity he felt between you both. He did it because, before he had the genius idea of helping you with your dress (to get it off in some way, what the fuck is wrong with him), you were really close to his face and he couldn't think straight for the remainder of the time he was in your presence. 

There was a time in his life where the mere thought of you brought discomfort to him. It kinda brings discomfort to him now, too, but it's a different kind of discomfort. It's dull, it's confusing and it's angering at the same time because, if he was sure of something before, it was the fact that he never really wanted to be near you. 

You were the bane of his existence when you two were kids, something that was forced on him the second your parents wanted and he despises the lack of control and freedom he's always had around you. 

And now there's a flash of you genuinely laughing at him for blushing after the old lady from last night gave him some not-so-innocent compliments in front of everyone. There's a flash of you defending him when you really didn't need to, even if you stated otherwise. 

There's a flash of you wiping the corners of your mouth after finishing the food he made you, a visage that completely besots him. 

He never really wanted to kiss you. 

Only once, at your graduation party, but that was drunk him and playing spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven really did a number on his teenage hormones at the time. 

He remembers the bottle landing on the girl next to you and the guy next to you and the guy next to the guy next to you. Yunho kissed them all with the hope of kissing you at some point that night. Just because he was curious, because deep inside of him he knew your parents plans all along. 

He didn't get to do it, though, and so it didn't really matter; the wish died as soon as he woke up the next day with a huge hangover and a dry mouth. Yesterday, he thought the same would happen if he went to sleep and dreamed about anything but you. 

That, of course, didn't happen. 

Now he’s just left trying to figure out what the fuck is going on exactly as the memory of your lips and the sting of annoyance that follows the thought of him wanting you in any way other than fifty feet apart distracts him from whatever his friends are saying right now. 

“He lost his fucking mind,” Gyuri stands in front of him, hands on her hips and furrowed brows like a mother who’s scolding her troubled child. She collapses on the couch behind her a second later, next to her best friend who’s giggling at her and her reaction “He’s not even answering to me.” 

They called for an emergency meeting at San and Wooyoung’s place, as expected. He was supposed to see them on saturday anyway but now he gave the friend group a reason to hang out a day earlier. Seonghwa did too, but his story, apparently, is more interesting than the oldest sudden girlfriend. 

In a way, they both got out of nowhere partners. But the friend group is hanging out a day earlier than expected so he’s not really sure why he’s being reprimanded for something so out of his control. 

They don't know this is out of his control. Maybe that's why. 

Wooyoung takes a sit in front of him, on top of the wooden table separating the space between the tv and the couch and puts a hand on his shoulder, like a father who’s trying to be on his side of things without offending his wife “Care to explain yourself, Yunho?” 

He decides to play pretend so he doesn’t have to think about it more than he needs to “Explain what?” 

As Gyuri gasps, Woo shakes his head before dramatically hanging it low.  

“God help you, my dear friend.” 

Gyuri gets up again and Wooyoung gets up as well, stepping aside so he can give space to her to regard poor little him with the angriest look ever directed at an innocent man.

He thanks Mingi for opening the front door of the apartment right at that moment. 

Behind him, Mingi’s girlfriend, Yeosang, Hongjoong and Seonghwa follow suit. San is in the kitchen finishing the dishes and Jongho is at school, taking a quiz or something, he thinks. 

He didn’t really read the group chat like that. They just requested his presence and he spawned in the apartment half an hour later.

But he didn't take into account that he was seeing Mingi that day too. Mingi, his best friend for a few years now, the only person he should've actually told what was going to happen yesterday night. 

He fucked up. 

“Can you let the man explain himself, Gyuri?” Mingi asks, down on one knee and helping his girl take off her shoes. Yunho wants to roll his eyes but Mingi is, after all, head over heels for her. 

How is he going to explain to them that he’s not head over heels over his new, sudden girlfriend? That, in fact, he thought he despised her until yesterday. 

And that now he’s not able to shake her from his thoughts even if he desperately wants to. 

“What’s going on?” Seonghwa asks and Gyuri turns and points at him. 

“We’re talking to you after we talk to him.” She makes a show of her threat, her pointed finger moving to Yunho’s forehead and slightly pushing him back on his seat. 

Seonghwa rolls his eyes and plops down on the couch, next to San’s girlfriend “Oh, my God.” 

“I’m sorry,” she tells him with a tiny smile “She’s freaking out today.” 

Wooyoung turns the tv on. His laptop is connected to it through a long, orange cord and when Yunho turns to the screen, it shows a picture of him and you with plastic smiles that look too real. 

If only people knew. 

“This is what’s going on,” he says, pointing to the image and then leaning into his laptop to click a new tab “The Jeong and Kim empires merge into one after their youngest announce they’re in a relationship at yesterday’s twenty year celebratory gala,” reading directly from the article, Yunho manages to cringe at the wording of it before Wooyoung turns to him “Since when, bitch?” 

Yunho opens his mouth to reply but both Yeosang and Seonghwa make a surprised noise. 

“Oh?”

“Isn’t she…?” Yeosang looks at him “Is she?”

He nods and Yeosang claps, mumbling a I knew it under his breath. 

“So that’s what she meant when she told me I looked familiar, she knows you!”  Seonghwa smiles a little and then his expression turns into a frown, like he just realized something he shouldn't “When did you start dating her?”

“Well, actually—”

“And didn’t tell us?” Mingi’s girlfriend looks very offended but he can tell she’s half joking, especially when Mingi smirks a little and then joins her with a pout. 

His best friend looks at him a second too long, though and that lets him know he might be a little offended. 

Mingi opens his mouth to speak but a choir of voices stops him from doing so and Yunho breathes out his regret for even showing up and for not explaining everything to Mingi first. 

“What do they mean ‘merge their empires’. Are you getting married?” 

“When did you even meet her?”

“Through his family, I suppose.” 

“Are you getting married?” 

“So did you cheat on her like two months ago with that girl from the bar?” 

“No, no, he didn’t hook up with the girl, that was Hongjoong.” 

“Sure I did,” he says and gives Yunho a look, like he doesn’t remember who they’re talking about “Yuyu, can I be the main groomsman?” Hoonjong asks as San returns with a snack plate on his hand and he takes it from him when he offers it, putting some chips on his mouth immediately “Hwa, too. We're the oldest, so.” 

Mingi scoffs “And I’m literally his best friend, don’t even try it.” 

“That’s literally me, oh my God? Liar?” 

Yunho is starting to feel a little overwhelmed by the amount of noise he normally would contribute to. 

Right now? He wants everyone to shut up while he finds a way of explaining everything and not sound completely insane in the process. 

It’s quite the normal concept, he thinks. Arranged matrimonies are a thing in a lot of cultures and in his it’s more subtle than anything, not quite what it used to be, but they’re still there especially for families like his. 

He’s not getting married, he should also clarify that. But as Mingi takes hold of Wooyoung’s laptop and scrolls through the article and then turns to him asking for an explanation with his eyes instead of his words, all the coherent sentences he just put together in his mind die on his tongue. 

Mingi is not really one to pry, but his stare tells him that he’s a little bit concerned with everything. After all, he’s the only one who understands the full complicated history Yunho has with his family. 

“Guys,” he says, all mischievousness wiped out of his face “let him explain and don’t interrupt.” 

The noise quiets down and everyone looks at him, expectant and curious. Now that he’s able to untense his shoulders and take a calming breath, he also notices a few concerned stares that join Mingi in the sentiment. 

Alright. Okay. He can do this. 

Yunho sends his best friend a thankful smile before gulping down his nerves. 

“That’s Kim Y/N,” he points at the tv screen, although half of your face is cut off because Mingi scrolled down to read “I’ve known her since we were kids, her parents and my parents are really good friends and her dad helped my dad launch his company, so we were… They were celebrating that yesterday.” 

Everyone nods and then he catches Seonghwa’s eye “My brother and her brother are very good friends, too. You know Sukwon hyung, don’t you?” 

“Oh,” he seems taken by surprise by that “he’s a new client.” 

“I figured,” Yunho smiles, “He’s a good guy, just a little…” 

“Carefree?” Hwa offers. 

“Mhm. Anyways,” he shakes his head, trying to get back on track “Jeong Tech made a huge mistake a few months ago and so they decided to announce our relationship yesterday to kind of… Everyone loves Y/N,” he says quickly “She’s… We—” 

“Are you two together or not?” Wooyoung asks, clearly confused and when everyone shushes him he mutters his apologies. 

Yunho wants to answer him with the truth. He really does and it’s right there, ready to come out, but he thinks about you. About everything you told him yesterday, about how you actually seemed to care to please your parents.

He thinks about his own mother’s threats. 

And he knows it’s a little stupid wondering if someone in this room would tell, but he hesitates. 

It hurts him to hesitate but then someone speaks up. There, curled around San’s arm and peeling open an orange, his savior speaks up.

“Relationship of convenience,” she says softly and matter of factly, turning heads in her direction “What? I could’ve told you this two hours ago,” she points at Gyuri and Wooyoung “But you refused to explain! Come on, everybody,” giggling, she offers a freshly peeled slice to her boyfriend. “I work with books for a living, you work with books for a living!” She points at Woo again, “This trope is classic,” and then she looks back at him with a kind and honest smile. “You two do look good together, though. Are you friends, at least?” 

He hesitates. You both definitely, sort of, made amends last night. But it's a little weird and, suddenly, also hard to explain. 

Yunho thought the word friends would've just rolled out of his tongue naturally, as a little white lie to ease everyone's worries. Now, it hardly makes its way onto it so he just nods after a long pause that definitely raises suspicion on everyone's face. 

“We've known each other for a very long time, went to highschool together and everything,” that seems to eradicate some of the doubts, because San grins and turns to his girlfriend with a knowing smile that she returns. 

Gyuri is not as convinced “But are you friends?” 

“Yes,” he returns immediately after that, wanting the conversation to be over. He’s not lying, not really, not after what you both said yesterday “We are, we’re trying to be.” 

“So you hate the bitch. Got it.” Gyuri nods. 

Yunho takes offense to that, oddly enough. Because no, he doesn't hate you, not a little, not at all. 

He thinks. 

Besides, he confirmed yesterday that you're not much of a bitch and it hurts that Gyuri thinks you are one, but San’s girlfriend it's already handling that before he has the opportunity to defend you like you defended him. 

“Babe, don't call her that.” 

Gyuri raises her hands defensively “I'm just taking preventive action! What if she is a bitch?” 

“She's not.” Yunho says and they both turn their heads to him, Gyuri with a frown and her best friend with a knowing smile. 

What does she know that he doesn't? Beats him. 

Instead, he settles “She's just… Well, she's—” 

“Intense?” Gyuri offers. 

Wooyoung shakes his head and points to his ex “No, that's you.” 

For once, he's glad their bickering interrupts him because he doesn't really know how to describe you. What's his current opinion on you? He has no clue. It's weird, he hates it a bit, but the feeling is there and the words are on the verge of spilling out of his mouth.

San’s girlfriend gasps and then murmurs an excited: “I love enemies to lovers!”

“I don't think real people can fit into fictional tropes, babe,” Gyuri returns, taking a slice she's offering in her direction before eyeing Yunho “Or can they?” 

That he can answer “We're not enemies and we're definitely not lovers.” He says with a shrug. 

“You're something way worse then,” San’s girlfriend nods and then smiles in excitement “Can't wait!” 

“For what?” Yunho asks in a whisper but Mingi, thankfully, interrupts. 

“Why are they talking about marriage, then?” He asks, his concern is palpable and Yunho feels kind of bad. He feels really bad, actually. 

He could have told him this, at least. He could have talked about you, but the truth is that his mind avoided remembering you if not necessary; that’s how much you two seemed to hate each other.

Now? 

It’s kind of complicated not to think about you when you’re plaguing his mind, infecting it like a virus. 

Or painting it, like the canvases he saw in your room yesterday. 

Do you paint? Is that something you like to do in your free time? 

Why does he feel like he knows very little about you, all of the sudden? 

He groans and then shakes his head. 

“There’s no marriage, they’re getting ahead of themselves,” he clarifies. 

“Is there going to be a marriage?” 

There's movement on the screen now and he sees Mingi’s girlfriend scrolling unapologetically through the article. She's watching a video of the both of you posing together for a picture and there's something that pulls inside of him. His eyes attempt to water but he manages to keep his emotions down, locked up because there's a lot of feelings he won't put on his friends. 

He's sure they think of him as a dumb puppy who's actually very academically smart, just a little clumsy with his social interactions. He's been pretending he is, anyway. 

The only one who really sees through him is Mingi but even him, to some degree, has bought his immature act. And to some extent it became real for Yunho himself, too, so deep fears and sad emotions are off the table. 

So he pulls himself together and turns to his friend.

“I think she has an escape plan if our parents decide to marry us off to each other,” he admits, snorting out a laugh that’s a little bitter but more amused than anything, he shakes his head “So no, no engagement, no marriage.” 

“Why, what's wrong with you?” Gyuri asks, eyes squinted with prejudice and suspicion “Why wouldn't she want to marry you?” 

“Well, that's not… Gyuri,” he opens and closes his mouth a few times, not really knowing what to say to his friend's question, so he looks at Mingi with begging eyes “That's not really the point, right?” 

“Don't look at me, she's right,” Mingi shrugs, “Why wouldn't she want to marry you?” 

“Because we're not in love!” 

Wooyoung scoffs “And yet you're a perfectly fine and rich young man, so why wouldn't she want to marry you?” 

“So we officially hate her, right?” Gyuri says and claps her hands before standing up again for the millionth time and heading his way. Her hands fall on his shoulders and he has to crane his neck to see her from below “Okay, then! What's the plan? Do we get rid of her?” 

“No!” 

“I could, if that's what you want.”

His head snaps at Hongjoong at the suggestion, disbelief writing on his face “I love you guys but the Yunho protection squad needs to dissolve right now, everything’s fine!” 

“Is it?” Mingi asks and Yunho takes his time to look at his best friend before nodding. 

“It is. We're supposed to break up eventually anyway,” air leaves his lungs in a long sigh and then he gulps a little, not really sure how to say what he wants to say without offending anyone. And Gyuri's hands are still on him, so the pressure doubles at the potential threat of physical harm that his next statement can get him. “Listen, I won't make any of you sign nda’s or anything like that because I trust you but please, please don't tell anyone this.” 

He looks around the room and sees wide eyes before they turn understanding and when his friends nod in agreement, he feels a weight lift off his shoulders. 

Literally, Gyuri moves to sit next to Wooyoung who tries to put an arm around her and fails. 

“You're not that famous, Yunho,” Hongjoong kisses his teeth and the mood shifts into the lighthearted one he's used to “Unlike me. I'm a celebrity among my peers.” 

Wooyoung rolls his eyes “Yeah, because all the criminals turned music students turn guitarists of a nugu rock band worship you.” 

Hongjoong ignores him but his smile is tense and his eyes are squinted in fake joy when he speaks again “You are going to the gig tomorrow, right?” 

He laughs “Of course. I might be a little late but I'll get to see your set.” 

Hongjoong frowns “Why?” 

“I have a schedule now, so…” 

“Oh, my God,” San’s girlfriend squeaks, typing something in her phone and Yunho catches his friend fondly following with his eyes the sentences she's putting together “And what else do you have to do now?” 

“Babe, I hope you're not writing a story about this.” Gyuri warns but her friend ignores her and turns to Seonghwa. 

Who realizes right away what she's doing, gaping at her and her betrayal with feign hurt. Yunho gets it a second later and his lips curve upwards a little. 

“And what did you do to get a girlfriend so fast? It was the motorcycle, wasn't it?” 

Wooyoung gasps and Gyuri seems to remember suddenly that there were two important subjects to dissect on the table today, so she gets up again with her hands on her hips and stares at him like a distressed mother.

“What the hell were you thinking, Park Seonghwa? Girlfriend? You met her yesterday!” 

“Three days ago, but yes, maybe—” 

“Oh, three days ago! That's an eternity in dog years, right? Are you a dog, Seonghwa?” 

Seonghwa’s eyes practically meet the back of his head and Yunho has to stifle a laugh “Not a dog, Gyuri, just a guy.” 

She pauses and then makes a face. 

“That… Actually makes a lot of sense.” 

“We made the mistake of calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend way too soon. But, to be fair, his text messages woke us up,” Seonghwa's finger is pointing to Yunho and he pouts as a response “Kind of, so we were sleepy and—”

“Sure, let's hang out tonight so you can meet my girlfriend,” Hongjoong reads directly from his phone and shakes his head. Yunho can't actually tell if he's offended or not “Not even a warning first.”

“I literally told you about her and you told me to go for it.” 

“Did I?” 

“Yeosang was there.” 

At the mention of his name, Yeosang looks up from his phone and smiles shyly at the oldest two “Correct.”

There's a bit of silence and then Hwa clears his throat softly. 

“She's going to be my girlfriend though,” he says, almost in a whisper but everyone hears him “So I don't know what the big deal is.” 

Wooyoung slumps from the couch to the ground with his eyes closed in defeat “Oh, dear God.” 

“The big deal is that—” 

Gyuri's voice fades to the background and he catches Hwa telling her that she's not his mother or something before tuning the discussion out. 

When he turns to his left, Mingi is still eyeing him to make sure he's okay. Yunho nods and smiles and then offers his hand to him, which he takes. 

Mingi's girlfriend turned off the laptop and is watching the interaction with a tiny contempt curve to her lips and, when Yunho catches a glimpse at San’s girlfriend from behind his friends built form (she's completely hiding behind him from all the chaos Gyuri is bringing to the living room), she catches his eye and then blinks one of hers in complicity. 

Again, Yunho wonders what she knows that he doesn't. 

But with the attention off of him, your face returns to his head.

So he's not really able to concentrate on anything else for the remainder of the hang out. When he finally, finally has his mind occupied by something else (San dared him to beat him at Mario Kart and Jongho brought food and drinks as an apology for completing his academic duties instead of showing up to the meeting), a text pops up from an unknown number. 

+82-5-059-6733: Hey. Added your number  from that stupid group chat our brothers made because telling each other things through our assistants makes me physically ill, hope you don't mind.  +82-5-059-6733: Actually, I don't really care if you mind. If you block me, I'll find another phone to text you on. +82-5-059-6733: Anyway, I'll send you the address of where we're going fashionably late tonight. It's an early drive so you're free to skip this (Do skip it please).  +82-5-059-6733: Jeong Yunho, do not ignore me or I swear to God…

He hates that, after reading his home screen, he has a smile on his lips. You sound both formal and pushy through text, too and he didn't think it was possible to have so much personality that it filters through writing as well. He's finding out new things about you and, although he made it a point to ask you to get along yesterday, it still feels really weird to do so.

When he turns to the screen again, he's down a few spots and San’s character speeds besides his in its kart. 

“Is it her?” San asks, looking at him for a second, a knowing smile on his lips. 

“It is but I'm not smiling because it's her,” he defends himself but there's a tint to his cheeks that might give him away. San laughs “Shut up. Your girlfriend’s schemes are rubbing on you.” 

At the mention, he catches through the corner of his eye as his friend turns to the mentioned girl and Yunho smiles again before he hears him sigh, completely and utterly in love. 

“Thank God.” 

He recovers on the game while San is distracted, passing him and winning the race. The sound of it ending makes San snap his head back and watch as Yunho relaxes on the couch in egotistical victory. 

“Ugh.” 

The sun is shining through the clouds even though it was supposed to rain again. There's a singular gray one moving ominously among the other ones and threatening to mess up what you planned for the day. 

It suspiciously moves past you and into the city when Yunho's car pulls up the hill. By the time he gets down, the sun is shining in full force and you roll your eyes when he regards you and your closed arms with a wink. 

What does he gain out of this? You've been wondering since that night if coming here is better than staying at home for the weekend. 

He could stay at his dorm, though. Is that an option? The curiosity you feel towards him now has completely taken over. It feels disgusting. 

Either way, you hate that he actually showed up. That means someone, somewhere around you, is going to casually document the thing you kept to yourself for a long time. No because it's a secret but because there's no real need for anyone to know that you do this. 

Your presence on social media is scarce, you have one open account that you use every six months (if you remember to use it at all) and the one you stalk people of your circle on. You have a twitter account that's private and not under your real name, a youtube account that doesn't really count as social media in your eyes and nothing else. 

No one needs to know you do these sorts of things. Then, you wouldn't be doing it out of the kindness of your heart but to get sympathy points. Even though you'll always do it because you want to and not because you have to. 

There's a lot of things you have to do, like your relationship with Yunho, but never this. 

You know it's only like five out of one hundred people who wish you ill but those few people are enough to tarnish the affection the kids have for you, the trust you worked so hard to gain the few years you've been trying to make this orphanage somewhat quality-of-life acceptable. 

You stumbled upon it one of those drunk early mornings where you had to walk around to get the alcohol out of your system before even daring showing up home or near it. Not because your family didn't know what you were up to, but because of the possible photographers roaming around the house. 

A drunk underage daughter was worse than anything back then. Maybe it is now, too, but you remembered the mistake you made the first time you got drunk and the absolute reaping your mother gave you. 

So when you locked eyes with a middle aged woman in the middle of nowhere after walking around half an hour before in heels, your almost-sober self pretended to be lost just to talk to someone and feel safe. The sun was barely showing that day and you were cold and sad and angry for not controlling yourself at the party and it must've shown in your face because you saw the woman taking a deep breath before offering you to step inside. 

At that hour, the kids were asleep. There were traces of them everywhere, though and you remember the way your heart sank at the lifeness of the space even in the still hours of the morning. 

It looked lived in, enjoyable and cozy. You never had that. Toys were put back in their place the second you got distracted by the tv or a book or when your mother said that was enough playing around for the day. Your room was always neat and tidy, put together and devoid of any evidence that you were real. 

That has changed a little now, but back then seeing something you didn't have struck something within you. There was obviously no way you would complain about it out loud, though. 

You had everything solved, your struggle has always been insignificant when compared with everyone else outside of your circle. It's fine, it's always been fine and the tears brought to your eyes when the middle aged woman put a hand on your shoulder and consoled you when she saw the environment was affecting you meant nothing. 

You tried to convince yourself they meant nothing and tried to keep your heart where it belonged: inside of your tinsel bubble, frozen and harsh so that no one takes advantage of you.

And then she managed to melt the ice not even five minutes into explaining what it was that they did there. She said her position wasn't permanent, that the district kept changing directors and that the quality of life they were able to give to the kids was acceptable at best. Not good, not what they deserved. 

Maybe that was the first time you took advantage of your privilege for something good. Because next thing you knew, you were putting together a presentation and pressing your father to do something about the home. 

Your mother was scandalized but she agreed to do something with your ideas if your brother was put on the front of the newspapers, inaugurating the renovations made to the place. 

Saturdays have been destined to the orphanage since then. They know not to put anything else on your schedule for the day, they know not to film you or send photographers per your request. Because your brother was already seen making the good deed a few years ago, so there's not really a way to take advantage of this anymore. 

Besides, the district still manages it and no amount of volunteering can help the fact that its administration and the decisions that they make are as dumb as you believing for a second that Yunho was going to take your advice and stay home today.

Yunho being here changes things, you know it does. Why did they put this in his new schedule if not? You thought it was a punishment for him but now you're not so sure. 

There's lack of movement, lack of press, lack of your mother's touch to it so you wonder what's the angle here. And, as usual, Yunho seems to be in the dark about the things plaguing your mind. 

You point at his outfit in retaliation when he gets near you and your mother’s assistant, who became yours for the day. 

“Is this what you could put together with such a long notice?” 

“You said casual.” 

“And this is your casual?” 

At some point these past few days, and after seeing all the pictures of you two together at the gala, you came to terms with Yunho’s attractiveness. Objectively, he's a handsome guy. His dad was handsome at one point, his mom is absolutely breathtaking and his brother is handsome as well. They're just a family of naturally physically gifted people, alright? 

But it is kind of unfair that he can look this good in flared jeans and a white fitted shirt, for fucks sake. He looks like he just got out of a Calvin Klein shoot… If the shoot was somehow made in the seventies. The black belt and the black boots with a tiny platform he's wearing add to the whole look and your eye twitches a little. 

He looks really fucking cool, actually but there's no way in hell you would ever accept that. Handsome? Sure. Cool? Your mind is tricking you somehow. 

It's that warmth that invaded your body when he made you food a few nights ago making you think nonsense. You want to desperately get rid of it. 

He scoffs but a tiny smile tugs at his lips when he looks you up and down “Is this yours?” 

Looking down at your wide leg trousers, your kitty heels and your short sleeved cotton top, you fail to see where the problem is. 

“Duh.” 

He whistles, low and for a few seconds and for a moment you think he's doing it because of you and your heart beats erratically until you realize his eyes are fixed on the orphanage.

You smile a little. 

These past few years you've been able to get funding and provide funding to it, so the renovations just keep coming and coming. It doesn't look like the one you found refuge on that morning a few years ago at all and it definitely doesn't look like the one your brother had the chance to be photographed with either. 

Right now, it has a little bit of your touch: It looks like an elegant structure, but a building that's also suitable for children to be in. It has a playground vibe to it, the exterior and the design of the new entrance you approved a few months ago only solidifies it.

The kids love it. You didn't exactly run the design through them but it would've shown if they didn't. 

They're very expressive, but decisive too. Bossy, even. You look at Yunho and you want to smile fully because he simply doesn't know what he got himself into. 

That proves to be true as the hours go by. The kids raise their eyebrows when they meet him, say hi to him with a bow and then turn to you for explanations. When you say that this is a new friend that's going to be helping out that day, you don't miss the way Yunho lights up a bit besides you. 

And then that light is completely stolen by hour three, you see it as he chases kids around the yard. It hurts that they acclimated so fast to him but, again, when you got there the first time the place wasn't really one where they felt completely safe. 

This proves that you helped change that. Good. 

There's a few of them, the older ones, that sit on the ground and stare daggers at Yunho like he's going to hurt the younger kids at any moment. These kids were practically toddlers when you met them and they had a hard time being around you when you started to show up regularly. 

They barely spoke a word and, when they did, they yelled at you for not playing with the toys like you were supposed to, or because you looked too clean and too pretty to be messing with paint or something of the sort. 

It took months for you to build that trust and now the oldest is a tween with shaggy hair and a scowl on his face because he thinks of Yunho the same way he thought of you when he was just a kid.  

He barely notices when you crouch next to him, the hand you put on his shoulder making him jump slightly. 

“I understand the feeling of wanting to punch Yunho in the face,” you start, smiling and then tilting your head a little “but you're going to burn a hole on his back if you keep staring at him like that, Hyunjoon.”  

“Then why did you bring him here?” His frown deepens and you shrug “We were just fine with everything here and now there's a stranger playing tag with my little brother,” he shakes his head “I don't like it.” 

Sighing and then turning to Yunho, you see the exact moment his attempts to escape Haejoon, Hyunjoon’s little brother, are sabotaged by Hyunjoon’s best friend, Soyi. 

“I think you're a little jealous.” 

“What?” 

You want to laugh when his head snaps at you, chest heaving in preteen anger at the word jealous. 

“Yeah, not because he's playing with Haejoon but because Soyi is there too,” you shrug again, readjusting your crouching position because it hurts your legs but there's no way you're sitting on the ground “You like her, Yunho is handsome and you're jealous.” 

He turns away from you and you laugh when he makes a disgusted face that then turns into mild discomfort and ends up being a full pout.

“We're fighting.” 

“You and Soyi?” He nods and you sigh “What is it now?” 

“I dunno.” He murmurs with a shrug. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I don't know what I did! Okay?”

There's this uncharacteristically amount of patience you have when it comes to these kids that don't run out even if they yell at you and cause a few heads to turn your way. It never really bothers you except today, when you know there's possibly someone monitoring your movements. 

Yunho’s assistant, most likely. You know yours is compliant and doesn't really give a fuck about what goes on here, her focus on her tablet the whole time, probably arranging things for her actual boss (your mom). 

“Have you asked her?” He shakes his head “Then maybe start by asking her, later today if you want,” you rush to clarify when you see him tense up at the idea “Or tomorrow or the next day but don't let silly things get in the way of your friendship with her, hm?” 

His pout returns and his eyes start to water a little but before you have the opportunity to make him laugh the sadness away, someone jogs towards you both. 

“Everything alright?” 

Yunho’s sweating, he's out of breath and squinting his eyes because of the sunlight and it reminds you of when you used to cross paths during recess, back in highschool. 

“Wouldn't you like to know?” Hyunjoon sulks and scoffs at him and, once again, you suppress your laughter. 

“We're fine. Did you need something?” 

“No, no, Soyi just asked me to—” He stops when Hyunjoon's reaction gives away the root of his sulking and you see him glance at you once. You don't give Hyunjoon secrets away, though. “She asked me to tell you that she's going to start counting in two minutes and you are both obligated to play.” 

“Ah, yes, the mandatory hide and seek of the day.” You nod and watch as Hyunjoon's eyebrows raise in interest “Tell her it's okay, that she can start counting now.” 

Yunho raises his eyebrows as well, curiosity on his face “And you're hiding too?” 

“It's mandatory, Yunho. Do you know what mandatory means?” 

He clicks his tongue “I obviously do, Y/N, it was a simple question. Do you have to—” 

“Don't speak to her like that, ahjussi!” 

Once again, Yunho is interrupted by Hyunjoon and this time you can't help but laugh at the pure shock on his face. It warms your heart that a kid that was once so reluctant to have you around is defending you and you think your expression might give the feeling away because Yunho says nothing in return, just nods once and then presses his lips together, fighting a smile “I'll go tell her, then.” 

“No!” Hyunjoon gets up quickly and you do too, your legs and feet thanking you “I'll do it, she's my best friend.” 

It's the threatening (and very cute) look Hyunjoon sends in Yunho’s direction before sprinting towards Soyi and his brother that breaks the both of you into giggles. 

Only when your laughter dies down is that you turn to Yunho, arms crossed as you look him up and down to assess the real damage caused these first few hours.

No other reason. 

“Thought you said these kids were tough.” 

You shrug and he smiles “They are but you came here with me, so they're going easy on you.” 

“Yeah, I'm sure that's it.” Yunho nods and then turns over his shoulder. You do too, only to find Soyi with her hands over her eyes and counting already “Better don't get caught first, Kim.”  

Walking towards the spot you usually hide in when it's mandatory hide and seek time, you bump your arm with his in not-so-fake animosity. 

“You better not get caught, Jeong.” 

“Is that a dare?” He yells when you're almost out of reach. 

“I don't know,” you yell back “Is it?” 

You miss the way his eyes follow you until you're out of frame, until some kid whose name he doesn't remember grabs his hand and pushes him to hide because he stood in place long enough to almost get caught first. 

You do get caught in the first round but not before Yunho, so you count that as a win. The second round is trickier, Soyi banning some hiding spots like the natural leader she is, and so you get caught before Yunho. He does a little celebratory dance when he sees you in the yard before him. Ass. 

There's only one round left before they call everyone to clean up for lunch. 

Moving through the orphanage halls, you walk down the stairs that lead to the staff rooms before choosing one you know kids would not check if they don't caught you in plain sight: It's the one that has some panel windows on top of some lockers, to bring in some natural lighting because it was used as a classroom before.

Now, only boxes and dust live down there. But if you hide in the corner, there's no way you're getting caught before Yunho. 

You checked when you were upstairs. 

You giggle to yourself as you rest your back against the corner, taking your phone and unlocking it to find something to do while you await your very predictable victory in this pointless battle you and Yunho have going on. 

Only for it to be crushed when he enters the room and closes the door behind it. See, you obviously didn't lock it because that defeats the rules of the game. 

But maybe you should've. 

“Get out.” 

He seems startled when he hears your voice, clearly not expecting another soul to be there. “You blend so well into the wall, Y/N.” 

You don't bite the bait “Yunho, you're going to get both of us caught. Get. Out.” 

“How? I literally fit in here, too.” 

He gets into your space, a petty smile on his lips until your backside is completely flat against the wall.

You let out an indignant laugh and a breath at the same time because, from where you're shoved into the corner, he looks so dumb. 

And then the sunlight shifts a little and lands on his shoulder and you get reminded: You're going to get caught and it's going to be his fault. 

You want to yell at him to get out again but then hear laughter near the panel windows, so you whisper-shout instead “Find your own hiding spot, Yunho!” 

“I got kicked out of my last one!” He whispers-shouts back. 

“Well you can't have this one either!”

“We're going to be fine, Y/N,” he tries but at your scowl he laughs again “I'm perfectly hidden here and I'm hiding you.” 

“You're not perfectly hidden, idiot! You're like…” You move your hands, trying to replicate the broadness of his shoulders “You're huge.” 

“Yeah?” He seems pleased by your words and your eyes rolls on their own accord “I've been hitting the gym, so I'm glad it's showi—” 

“I don't care, get out!” 

You hear a scream and then laughter that follows it outside of the windows and your wide eyes peek around a little behind Yunho’s form to see what's going on. 

There, rolling on the grass and laughing hard, are Hyunjoon and Soyi. You see when she pushes him further into the ground and away from her, smiling like she usually does. She did seem a little sad today and you wondered why without intruding.

Learning about the fight made things click in your head and so now you're smiling wide because they potentially made up. 

The sound of someone gulping is what brings you back to reality and you crane your head up to catch Yunho staring at you with parted lips and soft eyes. Somewhere in the process of looking out of the panels, you ended up leaning into him and bracing yourself with your hand on his arm. 

You quickly keep your hands to yourself again, pushing your body into the corner one more time. 

“Sorry,” you say right away “I was just… They like each other and they were fighting today so I'm glad they, um…” You trail off. 

“Are not fighting anymore?” Yunho says for you and you're nodding frantically before you can help it “You seem better today.”

“Oh,” that catches you off guard and he notices, “It's never… It's never really as bad as what you saw a few days ago. You don't have to ask me about it.” 

“I didn't mean to… I was pointing it out to say that you seem different here.” 

“Different how?” 

“Relaxed,” he says right away with a shrug. “Less… Hostile.” 

You get what he's trying to imply. 

“I can't really be a stuck up bitch when I'm surrounded by children, Yunho.” 

“Never said you were one.”

Your eyes squint “But you were thinking it.” 

He doesn't back down at your accusation “I swear I wasn't. You could see it, too, if you stopped being so… defensive.” 

“I'm trying,” you kind of speak over him as he is finishing his sentence, your arms crossing in, well, defense “but your fugly jeans are provoking me.” 

This time around, he's the one that doesn't bite the bait. He smiles, leaning into your space with purpose this time; not because the corner you're both hiding in is small, not because he forgets who you both are. You can see it in his eyes that he means to do it. It's scary.

It's really not scary at all and it brings thoughts to your head that you need to put away immediately. 

You pretend it's bothering you, creasing your brows in order to bring to your expression the usual disgust you feel for him. 

“You like my outfit, I saw you checking me out earlier.” He murmurs like it's the most obvious thing ever. You, on the other hand, think you did a great job in concealing your staring for the day.

“I was judging you, not checking you out. You look like a hippie.”

He smiles but doesn't lean back at all “I have something to do tonight.” 

“So I heard,” and now you look over his outfit on purpose, as well “This fit is definitely a choice.” 

The usual spark that the arguments you two are used to have is there, but the actual nastiness and loathing of it all is mostly gone. Now, there's this weird pull that nudges you forward, your jaw set softly as you wait for his response. 

“It's a rock concert, I have to look the part.” 

You laugh and then nod “And so you dressed up as a greaser. Got it.” 

“So I look like John Travolta in Grease?” 

“More like Barry Pearl.” 

He scoffs “Who even is that?” 

“Exactly.” 

Your smile is nothing but pure bliss at the way you seem to get under his skin with that one. The anger crosses his expression, his eyes widen a little before roaming your face and you wait for his comeback. 

And wait. 

And wait. 

But it never comes. Instead, he leans in a fraction more than what your sanity can handle and keeps his voice low when he changes the subject.

“I had the opportunity to speak to Jiwoo earlier…” He starts and you nod, expectant and a little distracted by the smell of his cologne. “She told me everything you've been doing for this place. I had to ask her because you didn't tell me.” 

“You didn't ask.” 

“Would you have told me if I did?” 

It takes a second and a tiny smile, but you shake your head and he clicks his tongue. 

“See?” 

“I wasn't expecting you to show up in the first place,” you murmur back in your defense, sincerely, “and I'm not used to people seeing this part of my life.” 

Laughter and hurried steps outside remind you that you're in the middle of a game, in the middle of a dare with Yunho, too. But it doesn't seem to matter anymore. 

This is a weird way of having a genuine conversation, an odd place to have it in as well but there's nothing conventional about your relationship with Yunho. 

In a way, it's kind of fitting for you two. 

“Well, you got great reviews.” 

“Do I?” 

“Mhm, Jiwoo said she was about to be sent away when you stepped in,” he starts to recall, nodding to himself “Soyi also said she met you when she was little and that you were there when Hyunjoon and his brother got here for the first time,” this time, you nod and a tiny smile tugs at your lips at the memory “And I saw the way you were looking at the kids earlier, how you spoke to them… That's why I told you that you seem different here.” 

It's your turn to gulp and blink a few times, trying to measure your words. You know that you and him came to an agreement the other night, but it's still a little hard to be fully honest with someone you've tried to be so superficial and distant for a very long time. 

“I'm happy here,” you whisper back, taking in a breath. “I'm happy when I'm helping, it makes me feel…” You trail off, failing to find the right words. 

“Purposeful?” Yunho offers and your heart beats loudly at that, your stomach sinks at how accurate that is and he can see it in your expression, because he takes in a breath himself and closes his eyes for a millisecond “I understand.” 

You want to ask him how he understands it. Is it simply because it's something easy to grasp? Is it because he relates in some way? The breach in between you became a simple line the night of the gala and that line blurs the longer you stay amicable with him. 

It's dangerous because you can already picture him going away when this whole charade ends. 

You don't want to get used to the feeling of him making your heart beat this way. 

And hopefully you can forget all about it with the usual meal related anxiety you feel but even that is dull. It's not as bad here and Yunho knows so it's not going to be as bad with him either. Fucking great. 

If you someone would just interrupt yo— 

There's a knocking, persistent and that allows you to step away from him finally and glance at the panel windows one more time. 

Soyi and Hyunjoon are lying on their stomach, smiling knowingly like they understand what is going on in your head. Yunho steps out and they pretend to be surprised but you can tell they were expecting to see him here. 

“The game finished like five minutes ago.” Hyunjoon says and it's muffled by the glass but you can make it out just fine. 

Soyi nods and joins in, adding something as she stands up “Yeah, it's lunch time and if you don't hurry I'm stealing your food!”

At that, Yunho seems to react like he's a child himself “Don't even think about it!” He yells back, heading for the door and leaving you there with an erratic heartbeat and questions. 

Thirty seconds pass before you hear him again, his laugh this time and you close your eyes because the curve of your lips needs to go away before you step out there as well. 

Three more hours pass and at some point you don't see Yunho at all, letting him do his thing. 

Turns out, he's actually very good with kids. Considering he was a weird kid himself, you don't even find it weird that he's sitting on the grass with a worm in his hand and kids circling him like he's giving a masterclass. 

Kind of like they were circling you fifteen minutes ago, when you gave them a little painting advice. You started on a small canvas and your paint strokes look tired, probably because you feel that way, but you use it to pass the time even if their interest is now elsewhere. 

They have art classes here, you insisted on including them in their pensum as something mandatory, like science and maths. 

They enjoy it. A few of them want to pursue art in the future and that makes you really happy, even if you probably won't be around to see it or if they change their opinions along the way because, as dumb as it sounds, you were never encouraged by anyone to pursue what you liked. 

Maybe, sometimes that's enough. Planting the seed to wait and see if it grows into something fructiferous in the future can be what some of these kids need. 

Aside from resources and opportunities, of course. 

There's less activity in the room you're in and you're sure it's because the kids are tired. They're taking naps in their rooms, they're washing up for the night and you're dreading leaving this place. Your shirt it's dirty, there's paint on your arms and dirt under your nails and you don't want to catch the disgusted look your mother is going to give you when you get home. 

You fuck up the painting a little bit. Lost in thought, you barely notice when Yunho makes his way inside from the garden, a little girl secured around his neck like he's her father or something. You barely spare him a glance, but smile at her when he sits down besides you and she opens her arms and clings to you instead. 

Leaving the brush and canvas forgotten on the table, you make space for the seven year old in your lap “Hi, gorgeous.” you smile at her and her sleepy eyes “Did you have fun today, Jaemi?” And at her name, she punches you softly in the arm with her little fist. 

You're afraid she's too tired to commit to the bit. 

“Jaemi,” Yunho nods beside you and you look at him, “she didn't want to tell me her name.” 

“Then that's totally not her name,” you correct yourself and Jaemi smiles, sticking her tongue out to Yunho afterwards “Did you have fun?” You insist. 

“Yes, he was teaching us something about…” she pouts in concentration, trying to remember “Crickets?” she offers with her little lisp, turning to Yunho to confirm her words. 

“Cicadas.” 

“Yeah, that.” She turns to you, nodding “He said that they sing when it's about to rain and that made me happy but then he said that they also sing when they're about to die and that made me sad.” 

Looking at Yunho, you let him know with your expression that that's not something kids need to know. He just shrugs, smile growing when he sees how Jaemi hides on your neck, sleepy and comfortable. 

“And I told him what you told me about the worms,” she murmurs there and you pat her back, softly, but trying to tell her to stop talking. There's an embarrassed glow on your cheeks at what she says next “and he told me that he was the one who taught you that.” 

Eyes wide, you huff out a laugh and then clear your throat, but Jaemi speaks through her pout before you defend yourself “Is he your boyfriend?” 

“Oh,” her question is not weird but you've been avoiding answering it all day. Right now, there's not really a way you can evade it, so you just focus on your painting and nod “He is.” 

“He's smart,” she mumbles and when your eyes land on Yunho again, his cheek is pressed to his forearm that is pressed against the table. He's looking at you both with stars in his eyes and you want to kick him under the table “Like you. I want my future mom and dad to be like you.” 

Yunho pouts and you gulp, defensiveness abandoning your body and emotions swirling inside at the sweet, hopeful color of Jaemi’s voice. 

“People here are going to make sure of that, Jaemi,” you assure her in a whisper and by the time you rock her softly in your arms, you can tell she's asleep in them “I'll make sure you get the best mom and dad in the world, hm?” 

You don't know if you can keep your promise. If there's enough will for you to do it, if it's up to you to decide it. But you don't get to dwell on it for long. 

“Is she out?” Jiwoo asks and you nod, sliding back with your chair a little so that she can take Jaemi in her arms instead “I'll get her to the nap room. Sorry about that.” 

“It's okay.” You smile at her and she puts a comforting hand on your arm, shaking you a little on your seat before heading for the nap room. 

You don't dare to look at Yunho after that. Yeah, he saw your mother belittling you and, yeah, he made you food and wiped away your tears after having a panic attack… But that might've been the most vulnerable Yunho has ever seen you. Maybe. It felt like it, anyway. 

Returning to your painting, you forget what the orange blob in the corner of the canvas is supposed to be. From the corner of your eye, you catch Yunho staring at you still, unmoving from his position against the table. 

“How dare you steal my earth friends facts, Kim Y/N.” 

“You mean the facts about worms everyone learns in kindergarten, Yunho?” You scoff “Didn't know you trademarked them.” 

“You enjoy painting.” He says, a fact not a question, ignoring your jab at him and it's starting to get a little annoying how he changes topics so fast. 

“I'm not very good at it.” 

He gets up, scoots his chair closer to yours and you catch as his eyes move up and down your stupid painting “I don't agree.” 

“I didn't ask,” huffing, you squint your eyes at him and at your tone he rolls his eyes “Don't you have a concert to get to?” 

“Yeah, you should go with me.” 

That's hilarious. 

“I'm afraid I'm a little underdressed,” you tell him and you think he wants to laugh,  but presses his lips together and pretends to be offended at your words instead. You lean into the table, your eyes following his mouth as he stops pursing his lips, a tiny smile tugging on yours. “And I don't feel like pretending to be your girlfriend today anymore.” You whisper to only him. 

“You won't have to,” he whispers back, leaning in as well, “they know.” 

“What? You told them?” 

“They kind of figured it out.” 

“Hm, because you have no bitc—” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupts you, annoyed and you laugh, leaning back in your chair “Come with me. I saw your car outside,” he smiles and bats his eyelashes at you “I don't want my mother to know where I'm going, so you can drive me.” 

“Ah, that's why you want me to go.” 

“I also want to hang out with you,” his hand on your arm doesn't startle you but it does send sparks down your spine, his words causing your chest to go warm and your walls to go down “I thought we were doing that today and then I got kidnapped by eight year olds.” 

There's this image of Yunho that flashes through your head, the one of him running around the yard with people so dear to your heart that it makes the poor organ beat erratically for the second time today. 

Deflect. 

“And you managed to keep your ugly outfit clean. I'm impressed.” 

He lets out a tired breath. 

Deflect. Ignore. Don't let it fool you, Y/N, he's not staying this cordial forever. 

However, you think that as a thank you you can give in a little. Just a tiny bit. Just for tonight. 

“Do they have parking?” 

Yunho smiles wide. 

You would never admit you actually want to hang out with him, too, so instead you just say: 

“I'm driving you and then I'm staying for an hour,” he claps and gets up suddenly, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of your chair as well “And if I don't like it there, I'm leaving.” 

He looks like he wants to say something but, instead, he just shakes your twined hands with excitement before letting go at the realization of what he's doing. 

“You might want to go to the bathroom first.” 

“Why? Where is the concert?” 

He says nothing. 

“Jeong Yunho… Where are we going?” 

They do not have parking. Not near the musty bar you're currently trying to make your way into, anyway. 

Yunho shows something on his phone to the bouncer at the entrance and then turns to you “My girlfriend,” he says, grabbing your hand again and opening his eyes at you as a signal to go along with his lie “She's also invited, obviously.” 

So long for not pretending to be together, huh?

You nod and you kind wish you didn't because it leads you to a small space with a crowd that's bigger than what it can host. There's heavy drums and amazing vocals coming out of the speakers and you actually recognize the guitarist of the band that's playing. You don't know his name, but you definitely saw him in pictures with Yunho before. 

Grabbing Yunho’s arm when he lets go of your hand, it grants you the brief grace of his stare. 

“I'm sorry about that,” he says and then his eyes are on the stage again, smiling at the band. His height works wonders because you can tell he's actually able to see them fully and the next second you're being pulled across the crowd and up some stairs “They didn't expect me to come here with anyone tonight… And don't say it's because I have no game, Y/N, or I swear—”

“You made it!” 

When you let go of Yunho’s arm and stand shyly behind him as they let the both of you into the very humble vip area of this bar, it's like the pictures you've been staring at for months come to life. You don't know names (only Park Seonghwa’s, who's glued to the balcony’s rail, jamming along to the music) but you do know their faces. 

This girl that greeted Yunho with a hug just now it's in almost every picture, smiling just like that. And when she turns at you, that smile disappears and it's replaced with one that's not genuine at all. 

Great. 

“Oh, hi to you too,” she says and her eyes alternate between you and Yunho “I didn't know you were bringing your fake girlfriend tonight.” 

You don't know why, but the way she says it ticks you a little bit. 

“Yeah, me neither,” Yunho’s arm is around your shoulders now and you have to fight the urge to shove him away, like a second instinct “This is Y/N, Y/N this is Gyuri.” 

“It's nice to meet you,” returning her energy, you smile coldly at her too, “I've heard nothing about you.” 

Yunho's hip connects with yours in a silent warning. 

But instead of the usual hypocrisy you're met inside the crowd you move in, you're greeted with something genuine: At your response, Gyuri looks you up and down for what feels like a minute and a half and then that fake smile turns into a genuine one. 

“Okay, I get you,” she nods, laughing to herself when she turns to Yunho. You do too and the color has been drained from his face, at least a little bit “I'm glad you're here. I guess it is meet my girlfriend night,” her head cocks to the side, to where Seonghwa stands and you're a little relieved you don't have to ask what she's talking about when, besides him, you see the mechanic you didn't get to meet earlier this week. She turns to you again “Do you want a drink?” 

“Oh, I'm driving, um…” You look at Yunho “I don't know if you—” 

“No, let's not drink tonight, though if you want to we can call—” 

“No, that's not necessary, I don't feel like—” He interrupts with a nod. 

“Gotcha.” 

The nervousness is palpable and, although you didn't really feel anything the hour and a half it took you two to get to the bar (Yunho didn't really let you, bickering with you about your driving or the decor of the car or the tinted windows or whatever he could think of to annoy you), but now you you notice it. 

The way Yunho's fingers tap on your arm, his around your shoulders still. The way he doesn't really know what to say when you both turn to Gyuri after speaking over each other like that and the way you can't bring yourself to be hostile to him in front of his friends. 

It's a little pathetic. You think Gyuri thinks so too, and the long-haired guy next to her as well because they're staring at you stoically, unmoving. 

“So I'm taking that as a no but I need a drink now. If y'all excuse me…” 

“H-hi, Woo.” 

“I thought we got rid of this when San and Babe got together,” he sighs as Gyuri turns around and leaves for a table, offering you his hand with a wink. You can tell he's a little drunk but the way he shakes your hand brings out a genuine giggle out of you “I’m Wooyoung, Yunho’s best friend. I bet he already told you that, though.” 

No, you want to tell him, you and him haven't been able to talk like that yet. Even after knowing him for over ten years and spending holidays together, you don't know his best friend's name at all. 

And you start to nod just to skip explaining that but Yunho speaks and ruins your plans.

“Mingi is going to kill you if he hears you say that.” 

“Say what?” A tall man stands next to Yunho and only when he hugs his shoulders is that Yunho lets go of you “Are you talking shit about me, Woo?” 

Wooyoung genuinely sulks“I wouldn't dare, Mingi.” 

“You must be Y/N,” Mingi ignores him and you want to laugh at the expression he makes in return, but you busy yourself taking the hand that Mingi's offering “I've heard so much about you in the last forty eight hours.” 

“All terrible things, I'm hoping.” 

“Well—” 

“Okay, okay,” Yunho pushes him away and takes your arm again, giving his actual best friend a look “Let me introduce you to everyone else before Wooyoung makes a scene for the night.” 

Over your laugh, you hear a faint gasp and a I don't ever make scenes! shouted on Wooyoung’s side of the room. 

You were never shy but you fall a little quiet in the middle of these strangers because the one thing you realized right away is that there's no actual need to pretend here, in the dim light and with people who don't give a fuck if your posture isn't perfect or that you're not making small talk. 

It's a little freeing. 

That weight falls off your shoulders and you kind of get why Yunho is a little clueless about how things work in your world after talking to San and Mingi’s girlfriends for a little. 

It truly takes everything in you to keep everything you share about yourself in shallow waters. 

You tell them things they might've already known, things that can be found online about you. You tell them that you met Yunho when you were little, you tell them about your job when the girl that Park Seognhwa chose above going to the gala with you joins and then you direct the conversation to her instead of you. 

They tell you about Yunho’s college life, the parties and the embarrassing moments that you've missed all while he talks with his friends about something, all against the vip balcony railing while they watch the band perform. Gyuri is there too, arm to arm with Wooyoung and they tell you they used to be together. 

It shows, especially when you get up to join Yunho and watch the performance and she snuggles a bit closer to Wooyoung to make space for you. 

Even if there's plenty of space already. 

He looks at you when you bump into him, smiling and leaning into your space a bit to talk over the music “There you are. I thought I lost you to girl talk!” 

You roll your eyes.

“Your friend's are nice.” 

“Normal people usually are, Y/N.” 

Scoffing, you focus on the main vocal of the band. The only girl up on the stage, too and you convince yourself that's more interesting than the way Yunho seems to sparkle when he's with his people “Well, that explains why you're everything but nice.” 

He laughs “I am nice, just not to you.” 

“No, yeah, trust me, I know.” 

“You seem quiet around them,” he turns to look at the girls for a brief moment “And you're usually, obnoxiously loud. Everything alright?” 

You know he's asking about your panic attacks. Yes, you feel fine. You took your pills with your lunch and, considering the small space you're at gives you brief anxiety, mixed with the general nervousness of being with people you don't know, it could be worse. 

But, like you said, his friends are nice. 

You don't exactly fit in this group, but they make you believe you're a part of them at least for a little while and you know your friends, or the people you usually hang out with when you go out, wouldn't give a stranger the chance if presented with it. 

“I'm fine, I'm just… Intimidated.” 

“You just said they are nice, Y/N.” 

“And they're all very good looking, which is unfair and nerve wracking,” you add with a scoff and hear him giggle before you turn to him again. “You said you wanted to hang out with me but it's been forty minutes and you barely said anything,” you give him a look, “so you just wanted the ride, hm? Asshole.” 

“Needy,” he returns, pushing you with his arm, “I also wanted you to meet them. They're a huge part of who I am and I know it’s not this way for everybody, but I do believe you can gather who someone is if you meet the people they surround themselves with.” 

What does that say about me, is what you want to tell him and then his words from a second ago cross your mind. 

It's not this way for everybody. 

He knows and there's something so deeply fucked up about his understanding of you because is not supposed to be this way. You hate Yunho, he hates you and keeping each other at arm's length has always been the norm. 

It baffles you how quickly he can leave his preconceptions of you behind and open the door to his comfy bubble, invite you in and make you feel welcomed where you otherwise don't belong. 

He understands. It makes you smile and he smiles back, close to you both physically and emotionally, and so you're sure you don't need to add anything to this moment you two are having. 

Instead, you shake your head “I don't know why they hang out with you, then,” you turn to the stage one more time and there’s some tension between the band all of the sudden. You don't ask, Yunho is not paying attention to them right now anyway “I still think you wanted the free ride. Send me the gas money when you get home.” 

“When you take me home.” 

“No, you're walking back,” your fingers take a hold of his forearm, pinching it and gaining an exaggerated reaction to the mild pain it causes back from him “asshole.” 

“And get him again for me!” Wooyoung shouts to your left and you both turn to see almost everyone staring at you. 

It's almost enough to make your cheeks burn. Almost. 

When it's almost time for you to go home (the hour you said you were staying turned to two hours) and the band gets down the stage, Seonghwa sits beside you. 

“Did you paint over it?” Is the first thing you ask him and he frowns before understanding. 

“The tree in your brother's office? Nah. He said we should keep it.” 

Your brother has no taste. 

“It's a horrendous tree, Mr Park,” you insist, shaking your head when he makes a noise to disagree. “Please be sure to take it down at some point, behind his back if it's necessary.” 

“Miss Kim,” he starts and you realize whatever he's about to say, it's not about that goddamned tree, “when you asked me to go to a party with you, was it the gala you and Yunho went to?” 

He's direct and blunt and you are grateful that he addresses the topic straight ahead instead of walking around it like the girls did. 

You nod “Yes, I wanted to say I had someone to go with so they wouldn't force Yunho and I to…” 

“I understand.” 

“I'm glad you said no, though. She likes you a lot,” you point to his date, she's jamming along to a rock song you don't recognize in the slightest with Hongjoong, who just joined the group in the vip area with the rest of the band. The vocalist it's missing, however and you wonder where she went, “And you like her too, so that's good. I'm glad.” 

“And you don't like Yunho?” 

The chuckle that bubbles out of you comes out a little more nervous than what you intended “He's, um… An old friend.” 

“He told us you were trying to be friends,” he says and you blink, wondering what else Yunho told them, “but that's not what I'm asking.” 

“I know what you're asking, I know what some of you think it's going to happen,” your eyes land on Yunho, his arm around Hongjoong and they're both laughing at something Mingi said. There's that pull again, your chest feels heavy with something you've never felt before “but it is not going to happen.” 

Yunho catches your eye and smiles, says something to his friends and then starts making his way up to you two. 

Seonghwa, instead of getting offended at your very direct refusal of his intentions, just laughs at you “Famous last words, Miss Kim.” 

“Paint over the stupid tree and I might reconsider your point, Mr Park.” 

He opens his mouth to say something else but then Yunho interrupts, a hand on your shoulder. 

He's so touchy. You never actually took into account if he enjoys physical touch or not, but his hands are always on someone.  On you, when you're close to him. 

“We're leaving.” He says and he's talking to Seonghwa, not you. 

“We all are?” 

“Nope, just us. Princess has a curfew.” 

“Aw,” you place your hand on top of his, pretending to be moved, “yes you do!” 

Harshly but also half-joking (you think) he moves his hand away and turns around “I'll be waiting for you downstairs, you witch.” 

You watch him say his goodbyes and flash you his middle finger before, effectively, going down the stairs. Laughing as you stand up, you return your eyes to Seonghwa “Stop it.” 

“I'm just saying—” 

“Shut up.” 

Seonghwa laughs again and you say goodbye to everyone, Mingi giving you a look that reads as be careful with him and you want to clarify that nothing is ever going to happen. 

But some of them think otherwise. 

When you get downstairs, the crowd overwhelms you all over again and, just when you think Yunho might've actually left you, there's a hand that closes over yours. 

The hand spins you around and Yunho comes into view with his lips curled upwards into a teasing smirk “This way, princess.” 

Suspicious (about the fact that he's navigating the crowd towards anything but the exit, not about his flirtatious ways), you tug at him to make him stop “What are you up to?” 

He ignores your question, moving fast and through a deserted hallway where music doesn’t really get through and, after that, he opens a door that leads to the back of the musty bar. 

“Are you bringing me here so I can get robbed, Yunho?” 

He huffs out a laugh, kind of offended but not really “Obviously, Y/N. It wasn’t because someone was taking pictures of us all night at all.” 

His hand is on yours still as he drags you to the streets and to where you think your car is. You’re grateful he’s holding you, your heart dropping at his words. Not because people can’t know you came to this bar, or that you’re with Yunho, but because someone recognized you and you didn’t notice.

You always notice.  

But this time, you felt so comfortable inside a bubble that isn’t yours that you allowed someone to disrespect you like this. 

Worst, disrespect someone else who’s supposed to be with you like this. 

“Are you sure it was us and the person wasn’t taking pictures of Hongjoong? He’s kind of the buzz around here, Jeong.” You try to joke to calm the beating of your heart down, swallowing hard as you get to your car. 

Your hand shakes a little as you press the buttons to unlock the doors and, by the time you get into the car you’re sweating. You feel the moisture on the back of your neck like a warning, it tells you that you need to calm down before actually getting on the street but Yunho’s words don’t help at all. 

“That's what I thought but then I realized the phone was following you.” 

“Great,” you gulp again, starting the car and turning on the ac just to have something to distract you and your hands. "You didn't have to leave with me, though. You just needed to tell me and—” 

“We’re together, aren't we? At least to them, we are, so leaving together it's the least they expect us to do.” 

Expect. You hate that he's right, that he was able to think rationally and you hate that he regards the situation you're both in with a little more maturity than a few days ago. 

This turn in his personality is overwhelming to say the least. There's only so much concealing you can do before it shows that you're starting to care about him genuinely, beyond the pr and the arranged relationship.

“Thank you.” You mutter after a few seconds of silence where he checked his phone. 

He looks up from it a few seconds, smiles at you a little and then returns his attention to the screen. It takes a few seconds of the ac blasting in your face and the sound of the keyboard of his phone to return you to the ground, panic dissipating when he looks back up again. 

“Are you sure you don't want to sneak back? I don't mean to steal you from your friends, Yunho.” 

“You are my friend, princess.” Without really wanting to, your nose scrunches at the corniness of the statement and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t make that face. Look, I was searching online for the pictures or videos they might've taken at the bar and I found this.” 

He turns his phone and although your panic went away, the feeling is replaced by a little bit of anger: It's a picture of you both, Jaemi in your arms, her face covered by your hair and shoulder. Yunho is staring at you both sweetly, like you remembered he did and you are mid sentence. 

It's not the face you're making in the picture that upsets you, it's the fact that someone took that moment and posted it online for everyone to see. 

“You don't like it.” He says and you take a swing of air before replying. 

“I do like the picture, I don't like what it means,” and he's about to ask what you mean, you see it in his eyes but you stop him with a shake of your head. “I don't like that they took that moment away from me, from us.” 

You don't know why you say it like that but you do, there's this emotion laced on your voice that, a week ago, you would've fought to keep away from him. He was never supposed to see any of this. In fact, no one was supposed to see any side of you that wasn't perfectly crafted to their liking, to your mother's liking. 

Yunho getting to know you like this wasn't part of your plan. So you ignore the sting on your chest at his pained expression caused by what you say next. 

“From now on, let's not allow them to take moments away from us. Let's meet when we're scheduled to, during the week and not on weekends and—” 

“Let's go.” 

“Yeah, I'll take you home and then maybe we can tell our moth—” 

“No, no. Just… Let's go here,” he tips and taps at the screen of your car, placing an address inside the gps you're unfamiliar with, “and then we can go home.” 

Confused and in a surprising complaint mood, you start to back out of the parking spot. At the questions written all over your face, he simply places a hand on your knee and squeezes there. It does nothing to calm you down but it does distract you for a second. 

Which is bad. Cause you're driving and all, so you bat his hand away with yours and he laughs at the dead look you send his way. 

“Where are we going?” 

“I want to show you something.” 

“Jeong Yunho, are you sneaking me into your dorm room?” 

“Shhhh.” 

A finger on your lips is the only thing you get as a response before he pokes his head out, into the badly lit hallway of what you can only presume is his dorm room. 

His digit is replaced by your hand because you're trying very hard no to burst out laughing at his very specific change of placement. He sprints to the wall in front of you and moves his hand, urging you to follow his footsteps. 

You do, only much slower than what he intended, you guess, because as soon as you're on his reach he grabs your arm and collides his body with yours. His lips near your cheek when he looks down, his words a whisper. 

“The cameras are old and they don't catch fast movements that well, so we have to run.” 

It takes five good seconds to try and contain your laugh again before replying: “Okay… Mister Bond.” 

His face falls. “Y/N, I can get in serious trouble for bringing you here.” He deadpans and you nod, fast and unserious. 

“Yeah, no, I can totally see that.” 

“I hate you.” 

You smile all the way up to his room, his anxious behavior a little strange because, well, you see a girl casually exiting a room on the base floor as you go upstairs. She's flushed and giggling as she types on her phone, so you don't understand what big deal is. 

Especially when Yunho all but shoves you into a room you can only assume is his, your kitty heels almost making you trip with the shoe rack by the entrance. 

“You're the most dramatic person I have ever met, Jeong.” 

“Hall monitors are a thing here, Y/N and I don't want to get banned from the team!” 

“What team?” 

Now that you think about it, this does seem like one of the dorms reserved for sports teams in the school you graduated from. This one is smaller, definitely not as luxurious and allegedly has a faulty security system but that's besides the point: there's banners and posters on the walls all the way from the entrance to this room that kind of smells like soju and beer. 

“The dance team!” He says as you step further into the room. 

“I didn't know you dance.” 

There's enough space for two beds, two desks that are pressed together on one corner of the room, in front of one of the beds, giving the illusion of being one cohesive piece of furniture when it's not. In front of the other bed there's a corner mirror and a bedside table with old energy drink cans and one unopened, undrinked water bottle. 

“I didn't know you painted until recently.” 

“I don't,” you argue, throwing your purse on one of the beds before Yunho takes it and places it into the other one. You assume that's his. "You are allowed to have a dorm here for shaking your little ass on stage a few times, Jeong?” 

Your teasing makes him frown but you can only smile at the reaction, arms crossed as you take one more look around the room. 

“I do more than shaking my great ass on stage, princess. Besides, this makes me somewhat very independent from my parents,” he shrugs “And I'm close to the campus. It's a win, win situation for me.”

“Yeah, I'll give you that.” And it's true: you can't really argue against being away from your parents. He's lucky he's able to do it, least to some degree. “You still have to go to your house on weekends, no?” 

“Yeah,” he sighs and when you return your eyes to him, he's making his bed. He looks a little ashamed of the state he left the room in when he catches you staring. “But I think I can allow myself to stay here on weekends now, too, considering they forced me into our little… Arrangement.” 

“Yeah, because your mother is all but allowing you to do things this week. Really, Yunho, don't test the woman’s patience.” 

He frowns at you “What side are you on?” 

“The side where we get scolded the least until this whole thing is over, Yunho!” 

“Look, I understand that you care deeply for your parents approval and we've gone through this already this week but—” 

“But what?” 

You hope the look you send him makes him choose his words very carefully. You don't think it gets the message across when he takes a breath and shrugs. 

“But at some point you're going to have to let go of that, Y/N, you're clearly not happy.” 

“Stop caring so much about my happiness, Yunho.” 

“We're friends, that's what a friend is supposed to—” 

“Oh, stop that.” 

He looks taken aback by your interruption and your tone, but the whole leaving the bar because someone was taking pictures of you knocked some sense of reality into you and now you're upset. 

You don't want to scream, you don't want to fight with him because today has been so good. Good to you, good to him, good to people who are dear to you and to him, but it's so hard. 

It's hard when he understands some of it but not the full picture and it's hard when your walls are down, your feelings are on your sleeve and your words spill out of your mouth without a second thought. 

“We're not friends, Yunho. We've never been friends, we were not brought together to be just friends and you may think otherwise because you have the opportunity to live like this,” you point to his bed, “and go to bars and concerts and make noise within the crowds because you're tall and attractive, not because of your last name but I am never going to have that.” 

Feet moving to their own accord, you cross the space as you speak, until you have to look up at him and that pained expression you saw before heading towards his dorm is back, that pained expression he gave you back at the gala when he found you in that room, that pained expression he had when he fought with his mom in front of you. 

You hate it. Not because he might be in some sort of pain, but because it makes you feel bad that you are the one that's causing it. 

“I am never going to have this, Yunho. So yeah, I'm unhappy and bitter and sad and I've developed a whole panic disorder because of it but that's just what—” 

“God, you're impossible.” 

What? 

“W-what?” 

“‘That's just what it's meant to happen’. Is that what you were going to say? ‘That's just the way things are’,” he mocks and that hurts you but he doesn't back down even at the way you physically recoil at his words. 

He moves to the floor, knees hitting hard as he drops and looks for something under his bed. 

You don't need to be here. But before you announce that you're leaving, he does something that ignites your curiosity: he pulls out a box. 

A box with the name of the highschool you attended together in it. You have that box, or at least you think you do, somewhere in the storage of your house where no one can find it because, like almost everything in your life, there's no happy memories in it.

You're not sure if there's happy memories for Yunho, but the way he harshly opens it and rumages inside to find something specific tells you otherwise. 

“The other day, after seeing the canvases in your room, I tried to remember if you liked painting,” he starts and gets up, a mid-sized blue photo album on his hand with the name of the school and your classes slogan engraved in gold on the side, “I tried to remember things I'm supposed to know about you, because we grew up together, Y/N.” 

His reminder makes you gulp. 

“I've tried to distance myself from you as much as I can because I never thought that we would need to get along and— No, no, I never thought I would want to get along with you but now I do and so I went home and I stole this from my mother's office.” 

He opens the album and, at first, you only see pictures of him. Him at his graduation day, him at that one soccer event where he almost broke his nose, him at the school yard with guys from your class you barely remember and then he gets to a specific part of the album. Instead of a picture, there's a card with beautiful handwriting that reads your name instead. 

“See, I always hated that my mother seemed to adore you. She doesn't have any daughters, so I thought it was a way of living that through you and that your mother was a little weird for allowing it to happen, but I was wrong,” he hands you the album and you scowl a little at the pictures you see of yourself, pictures that you've never seen before tonight, “And so, when she asked me to take pictures of you at school events she couldn't attend or your parents couldn't attend, I did it because of that. But I realized recently that she never wanted this for herself.” 

There's a picture of you at a piano recital where you came in third because you sucked at it. There's a picture of you on stage, on school assembly day, accepting a medal for your academic excellency. There's a picture of you next to the school’s art gallery, where you were able to display the canvases you painted throughout your senior year, at your teacher’s insistent request. There's a picture of you in the art gallery, someone you don't recognize or don't really remember is talking to you, their hands pointing at an abstract piece you did. 

It's the only picture where you're genuinely smiling. 

You trace the picture caged with the protective film of the album with the pad of your finger, softly, over that smile and wait for it to disappear but it doesn't. 

You look at Yunho, eyes almost teary with confusion and sentiment. 

“She never wanted this for herself because, although she loves you, she doesn't care about any of this when you're already the perfect match for me in her eyes” he smiles a little, his finger joining yours on the page. “She doesn't care if you got third or first place here, she doesn't give a fuck about your academic achievements and she definitely doesn't give a shit if you're an artist or not,” his finger connects with yours, over your immortalized smile on the picture “but I do.” 

Your head starts to shake, your mind starts to reject his words right away. He cares? About you? No, no. It can be, he— 

He's nodding, stepping close and letting his eyes move away from you just a millisecond so he can stare at the picture “If it makes you this happy, I do. And I did, I don't… I don't remember exactly everything I thought about you as I took these pictures, Y/N, I was probably very annoyed,” he laughs a little and you do too, softly, barely, “but I probably cared back then too, I just… Well, what I'm trying to say is that you can be happy, you can have this and—” 

You don't know what does it. Is it his speech? This whole I was supposed to hate you but I don't think I ever did feeling that washes over you, like some sort of light in the midst of a very long period of darkness? Is it the lingering curve of his lips as he looks at your face in that picture and then back at you with stars in his eyes? Is it the way his finger brushes against yours shyly, like he intended to do it but he's not so sure how you would react to it? 

Is it the way he looked at you this afternoon, while Jaemi was speaking nonsense into your hair? Is it the fact that, at some point during the drive, you looked over and saw him smiling at his phone, at the picture that stole your moment with him this afternoon? 

What exactly prompts you to shut the photo album, let it fall to the floor and close the distance between your lips is beyond you but, if you're being honest with yourself, it doesn't really matter. 

Kissing Yunho feels like defiance, like rebellion against yourself and your principles and your values. It makes your heartbeat happily against your ribcage and that's, maybe, what makes you pull away from the close-lipped encounter. 

He just told you that you can be happy, but your mind can't just accept it so easily. 

Also, he didn't exactly kiss you back. 

His lips are parted when you look at him again, his pupils going all over your face like trying to get ahold of what the fuck just happened. 

This is so embarrassing. 

“I shouldn't have done that,” you start, in a whisper, tiptoes going down until you're back from the clouds on the ground. “I'm so, so sorry. I'll leav—” 

Briefly, you wonder what makes Yunho grab the side of your face and kiss you back, this time with a foreign emotion pouring into the kiss that you, somehow, feel equipped to return as your lips move in tandem with his. 

You wonder if what makes his free hand move to your waist and press you flush against him is, in any way, motivated by some sort of pity. 

His tongue brushing softly against yours for the first time makes your insecurity go away. It makes everything else go away, including that alarm inside of your head that tells you that you're making a mistake. 

It’s blasting red, dangerous and irrevocable red, but you think you confuse the color of it with the blush on Yunho’s cheek when you push a little onto him and he falls to the bed. You confuse the sound with the sigh that he lets out when he pulls you to him and your first instinct is to sit on his lap, leg on each side of him, hand fisting his shirt as you capture his lips again. 

His warmth engulfs you when his arms go around you, press you into him again and settle you further into his lap so you’re not awkwardly hovering over it anymore. There’s this need that takes over you, struggling to come up to the surface. You think he feels it too and, when your hips move out of pure want, he opens his legs a little more. 

Adrenaline rushing through you, making you confuse the sensation for pure euphoria, it takes two more thrusts into the material of his jeans for you to come to your senses. 

What the hell are you doing? 

Your heart races, for a different reason now. 

What the hell do you think you’re doing? 

Panic rising, you push Yunho’s shoulder with your hands, pulling you both away from the kiss completely. He has a pout on his lips, swollen from your kisses and flushed pink. They look very inviting, and although there’s a part of you that wants to give in, there’s the other side of you, the louder side, that’s telling you to think clearly. 

Giving into Yunho, is giving into your mother’s wishes fully. Giving into Yunho means she won. 

And Yunho thinks you are able to be happy one day, the words you cut off still ringing in your mind and they cover your fears with hope you never felt before, hope that you didn’t think you deserved to feel in the first place. His kisses had that taste, too. 

But you don’t think you can let your mother win.  

“Dinner.” You manage to say, untangling his hands off your waist, using them to help you up and off his lap.  

“W-what?” 

“It’s almost nine, I have to go to dinner with my brother.” You fix your shirt, tuck your hair behind your ear and bend over him to grab your purse before clearing your throat, “I know the way out.” 

“Y/N, don’t—” 

“I’ll see you next thursday.” 

When you sprint out of the room and close the door behind you, you already want to go back in. 

But running is sensible, it’s what you’re supposed to do. 

It doesn’t matter that hot, angry tears are wetting your cheeks. 

It’s what’s best for everyone, including him.

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[giddyfatherchris]

📱skz texts —how they react/comfort you (when you're going through a rough patch with a friend)

| including. bang chan, lee know

warnings. mentions of homophobia, anxiety and depression (but not going in depth with any of these subjects)

a/n. FINALLY!! channie and lee know’s part babyyyy honestly i kept procrastinating but today i decided enough is enough.😤 again, these are not in order but i cannot be 🎶booOoOoOthereeeddd🎶 so :) hope you enjoy mwah xxx

changbin, seungmin & i.n

hyunjin, han & felix

Lee Know

He knew from your texts you were not in your normal state. You were usually such a bubbly person, but when you answered so drily to his questions, he knew something was wrong.

As he waited for you to come home, he couldn't help but pace in his apartment. You weren't living together yet, but you spent so much time at his flat that you claimed it as your second home comfortably. In the 15 minutes it took for you to arrive, Lee Know had prepared himself for many scenarios, but he could have never predicted how you opened harshly the door and slammed it shut. Your ritual of crouching on the floor, calling for his three cats, was brutally ignored as you stomped to the kitchen.

"Hi, baby." He tentatively tried. Cautious, he kept his distance as you grunted in answer. You opened the fridge door, looked for a milli second before you closed it, then repeated the same process with the pantry. You made yourself a glass of water, didn't even take a sip, and grumbled as you looked in front of you, not really seeing anything. You abandoned it on the counter, ready to stomp away, when Lee Know put himself in your trajectory.

"What's going on?"

You would have kept walking if he hadn't grabbed you by the shoulders and blocked you from carrying on.

"Uh?" you looked at him as if you were just now seeing him. "Nothing, something at work, it's enraging." 

"Then please tell me so I can know who to kill," he replied in an equally angered tone. His hold on your shoulders tightened slightly at the thought someone had hurt you. 

You looked at him, surprised. "What, kill someone?" 

"Please, Y/n. I've never seen you like this. I don't know what happened, but for it to put you in that state, I'm guessing it's pretty serious." 

He had to pull it out of you, but you finally explained how you discovered one of your coworkers, who you considered a friend, was, in fact, a raging homophobic, queer-hating asshole. When you first heard him comment on someone else wearing a rainbow pin, you had laughed it off, thinking he was being dumb, but he kept adding on, and you realized, horrified, that he was being serious. 

Cherry on top, when you told him you were pansexual, he had stared at you with this idiotic air and asked if you were attracted to kitchen appliances. It ended up with you terminating that 'friendship' and leaving the office completely enraged. 

Your boyfriend listened carefully to your story. His piercing eyes set on you when he finally stated, "I have no idea how you managed not to smack him in the face." 

You let out a dry chuckle, telling the story again only egged you on, and brought up a familiar gloom you hadn't felt in a while. Immediately, he noticed the change in your demeanor, how the burning rage had simmered to a profound sadness. "Hey, it's okay, you can report the bastard, you know. He can't go around saying stuff like that."

You wrapped your arms around your middle, your lower lip softly shaking as you exhaled. "It's been a long time since I've been directly in contact with someone like that. I'm mad at myself for not seeing it maybe others knew, and they considered me badly for hanging out with him. I feel so bad."

He pulled you to him, softly resting his chin on top of your head. "Some people are really good at hiding who they truly are. He never said anything before, you never could have known."

"I know, but I somewhat feel like a traitor to my community," you covered your face with your hands before hiding in his chest. "Is that dumb?"  

He softly pushed you back and leveled his gaze with yours. "That is a little dumb because you did not betray your community, okay? You can't betray someone if you've also been fooled. And you know what's the best thing to do now? Report his ass. I'm sure if you do, there will be others who feel comfortable speaking up."

Your eyes lit up at his suggestion. "You're right. I want queer people to feel safe at work. The thought that I might have been seen as someone who would threaten that makes me sick. But if I speak up, that could change. Maybe we could even create a committee to do sensibilization about homophobia in the workplace." The gloom in your eyes was replaced with a fire. "One thing is sure, I won't let it happen again.

He gave you an adorable grin as he softly grabbed your chin. "My little fighter, I'm proud of you."

Your eyes disappeared into a happy smile as you hugged him again. "Thank you for always supporting me, although I am slightly scared of how little it took to convince you to kill someone." 

He laughed before grabbing you over his shoulder and whispered with a diabolical expression. "You shouldn't." 

Because really, there shouldn't be a doubt in your mind that this man was ready to make anyone who hurt you pay a terrible price. 

Bang Chan

The leader rubbed his hands on his face in an attempt to wipe away all the exhaustion. He looked back at his computer screen, feeling a violent cramp in his head causing his eyes to squeeze shut of their own accords. 

"Okay, okay. I get it. No more computer today."

He grabbed his phone before getting up, pleading his eyes to survive one last exposure to the light of a screen. He clicked on your name and quickly typed in, asking you what you wanted to eat for dinner but all signs of fatigue disappeared once he saw your answer. Worry replaced any feelings in his heart, his tired eyes fixed on the device.

What could have happened for you to be so down? He knew you were dealing with a difficult friend lately, but could it have gotten this bad so quickly? He wondered if he should push it, ask you more, but as his eyes started burning again he realized it would probably be of no help and he should wait for you to get home. Chan looked around the apartment, an uneasy feeling in his chest, a restlessness agitating his limbs. You were hurting and he couldn’t stay still, waiting for you to arrive. Then it clicked, he looked at your messages once again, closed the app and started dialing a number he was starting to know very well. As the line rang, a smirk slowly took place on his full lips.

You tiredly entered your apartment, welcomed with a delicious aroma. You kicked your boots off, more than ready to change into comfortable clothes and hug your boyfriend. 

Your heart melted at the sight waiting for you in the kitchen. Chan, his sleeve rolled up, showing his strong forearms, was very focused on the pots and pans burbling in front of him. He softly hummed to the soft jazz music playing in the background, completely oblivious to the world around him. You silently walked to him and wrapped your arms around his middle, loving how his strong back felt on your cheek through his clothes. 

"Jesus! You scared me," he whined, still, you could hear the smile in his voice as his hands wrapped around yours. "How are you?"

You didn't answer, feeling tears prickling your eyes and that burning sensation in your nose when you knew you were about to cry. You buried your face in his clothes, hoping it would muffle the sound of your sobs. 

"Y/n?" he quickly turned around, realizing you were far from okay. "Hey, baby what's going on?"

Violent sobs shook your body as you slid to the floor engulfed in Chan’s reassuring embrace, allowing you to let it all go. Once you calmed down enough to take a big breath, he asked again. "Baby, what happened?" 

Softly, he brushed his fingers through your hair. He was a calm and reassuring presence for you in all the chaos. You knew you could trust him, knew you could tell him anything and he would be there for you.

"You know my ´friend’, our relationship was already rocky, I knew that, but I thought it was getting better. When we studied together the other day, we talked so much, about anything and everything and even personal stuff. I thought we were getting over that petty argument, but today I heard them tell other people from my classes how I was faking my anxiety disorder and depression symptoms. They said I only did it to get attention and that I- I was an addict." Your voice broke on the last word, horrified that such words could have come out of their mouth.

Chan had to fight everything in him not to go after them right now. If there was one thing he despised it was when the ones he loved were hurt. He couldn't bear it. He knew how hard it had been for you to get a diagnosis and start taking medication. How could someone be heartless enough to make such comments? 

"I heard some of the people in the group defend me, but still... I can't believe it. I'm so stupid, I never should have told them about it."

"Y/n. You are not stupid. They are the assholes. You are not stupid for trusting someone you thought was a friend okay? I don't ever want you to think you are stupid for that."

You looked at him with teary eyes. He felt himself melt and soften, all anger disappearing when he realized how badly you needed him. "You are not stupid. You are not faking anything." he softly stroked your cheeks, wiping away the tears as he did. "I'm so proud of you for reaching out for help. I'm proud of you every damn day, and you know the people who really love you do too." You closed your eyes, relishing in his warm touch, allowing his soft voice to erase every doubt and fear. He softly kissed your forehead, "Okay?"

"Okay," you whispered. "Thank you I don't know what I would do without you."

"You would still do amazing because you are one of the strongest person I've ever met."

You chuckled at his comment. "You're so cheesy. Still, I'm pretty happy to have you." You lifted your head towards the stove. "Especially if you tell me you've been cooking for me." You took a deep breath in, finally registering what it was you were smelling. You looked back at him, already smiling, a look of surprise on your face. "Is- is that my mom’s… How, how did you do it?"

A proud and satisfied expression was printed on his features. "You wanted your mom’s spaghetti so I called and asked her to help me make it. Turns out the recipe isn’t that hard." He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear while you stared at him like he was the most magnificent thing you had ever seen, which he was.

"I can’t believe you did that. My mother has never told anyone her recipe!"

"Yeah, about that. I might have had to make a deal with her to get it…" You rolled your eyes, ready to hear some embarrassing stunt your mother pulled on your boyfriend. "I had to explain why I wanted the recipe, and she might have made me promise we’d go visit your family in two weeks while you’re on spring break."

You squealed and wrapped your arms around his neck, asking him a thousand time if he was kidding, if this was really happening, while he promised over and over again it was. You pulled back to look at the satisfied smile growing on his lips. Chan was a sure value in your life, maybe the only true one, and as you looked at him, his dimpled smile and the satisfaction he had in preparing all this for you, you knew this was it. He was everything you would ever need.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

If requests are still open hon, would you mind doing Miguel O’Hara comforting a Spider-Person!Reader who’s been really stressed lately and who is prone to panic attacks and breakdowns? Thank you in advance! Always a joy to read your writing! ❤️

Of course 😭💚🫂 and thank you so much!

Internal Breakdown

Miguel O'Hara x gn!Reader • Rating: pg pals • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? •

Warnings: Talk of mental health and mental illness, panic attacks, hiding, reader has negative thoughts about themselves, reader is a spider person who can shoot webs (not specified how), overuse of italics, not beta read, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 611

You’d stepped out for a moment. You had to. 

The way the oppressive weight was just building and building and building. Forcing acid to the back of your throat, tightening your chest in a vice. Making you want to claw and rip at your skin. 

You couldn’t be around people. Couldn’t do that in front of people. The idea of others seeing, knowing, made it worse, so, so much worse. 

You’d rather claw your eyes out than break down publicly. Refusing to give yourself the same graces and goodwill you would gift others. 

If someone else was in pain, in trouble, felt like this, then… well… You’d help them. You wouldn’t judge them. 

You weren’t worth the same standard though. 

You creep into a side room, it was a stationary cupboard originally, you think. Used long before your time. Now, it seemed mostly forlorn, neglected. Some old furniture pushed inside. 

You climb up onto the haphazardly stacked tables and chairs easily, using a few webs to make sure the tower is one hundred percent stable. 

The physicality of it helps, gives you something to think about, focus on. Tricks you mind into believing you're short of breath from the movement and not from the panic attack that’s so close it’s almost completely devouring you. 

If you just sit a while, compose yourself. Focus on your breathing. You’ll be okay. Fine. Fine. Really. 

You’ve only been in there a few minutes when the door opens and you nearly jump out of your skin, just about managing to fight down your instinct to shoot a web. 

Miguel holds up his hands, his shoulders a little rounded in apology. “Sorry.” 

You shake your head, swallow, your mouth upsettingly dry. “Don’t wor- I was just-” Hiding. 

He climbs up quickly, sitting gracefully next to you. Close, but with enough space between you so that it isn’t crowding. 

“You don’t need to explain yourself.” His voice is soft, gentle. Like you’re some wild animal he’s afraid of spooking. “I know things can get a little… much.” 

You want to throw a chair at him. Tell him to get the hell out. To fuck off. You can do this. You can do this. You’re not some child. You’re not-

“I used to hide out on the roof, when there were less of us.” He continues, just as quiet and sincere. “But too many Spider people go there now.” You can hear the hit of a smile, see how his eyes crinkle slightly in the mask.  

For a moment you're dumbfounded, unable to process exactly what he’s saying. “You did?” 

He hums and nods. “I hide out in my office now, got a side room in there, everyone thinks it’s a fancy toilet. It’s really a panic room. As in, that’s where I go to panic. Not, with the locks and stuff.” 

You smile, not sure if he’s being truthful or not, but the effort is endearing none the less. 

“Maybe keep that between us?” He tilts his head to the side and you laugh softly. 

You mime sealing your lips and he chuckles. 

“Thanks.” Rhythmically, he taps his thumb against his thigh for a moment. “We all go through a lot… I know we don’t like to admit it, or show it. But… it’s okay.” He’s quiet, the soft sound of his breathing filtering into the small space. “I just wanted to tell you that. And… you can come and use my panic room anytime you need.” 

Your heart hurts, too full of such a sincere sweetness. “What if you’re using it?” 

“Ah, well, that’s easy.” He nudges your arm gently with his. “We can panic together.” 

Thank you for reading!

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[crumpetz]

a little update on the progress of The Big Road Home

it has been so long since i made a post that i had to figure out what to click on all over again lol. this week it hit me that ppl follow me specifically for fic upates and it just slipped my mind that i could be saying more. i have, like, internet social anxiety, and just default to never saying anything most of the time.

anyway, i'm really happy to report that progress on the fic has really moved along recently. for anyone who doesn't know, i have long covid and the brain fog has really interfered with my writing process. i originally taught myself to write using a certain system where i kept a lot of things in my head at once, and since losing that ability, i've been relearning how to write in a way my current self can do. which especially has sucked for the fic and where it left off, because the part i stopped at was actually a huge group of scenes scattered through multiple otherwise completed chapters that i was saving for later (before i got long covid). because even in my peak condition with my brain capable of keeping all the details straight, those scenes were still so challenging and important to get right that i wanted to wait until i was feeling extra sharp lol. so yeah, i've been basically having to reread my entire fic over and over every time i wanna figure out how to add in like one small part of all the things i've gotta cover (and thanks to the brain fog, on average, i'm capable of thinking thru all that maybe three days out of every month if i'm lucky?)

so, all that rereading and getting the details and characters consistent finally has been paying off, because i reached the stage this past week where i could finally bring it all together. the final product is going to be less seamless than what i'd originally intended, but that's just a given now that my brain is different. and, full disclosure, the stuff that i'm talking about is exposition. which i think for most ppl reading my fic is more like information they just want to know and less something that needs to feel seamless in delivery, unlike character interactions and emotional arcs. so, the reality is that the exposition in the next handful of chapters is gonna be a little clunky, but the non-exposition stuff will all be like normal, with the same amount of care i usually work toward.

i don't want to assume when everything will be ready. final tweaks always take me longer than i'm expecting. but to put it into perspective, i spent the last 2-3 yrs (i forget how long it's been oh no) getting thru like 20 percent of what needed to be done. and then i just spent a few days last week getting through 60 percent. i'm gonna wait until the full set of chapters i'm working on is complete because i want to be able to post them without a long wait in between, and i want to take the time to really get the emotional beats right. but i guess if i had to say anything for sure, it would be that for the first time since i got long covid, i'm truly seeing the light at the end of the tunnel for this fic.

my final note is that the next set of chapters isn't the end of The Big Road Home btw. i forget if i ever mentioned this, but from the start, The Big Road Home was going to be three main parts. the first part with jason and tim being street kids together, then this part we're in with tim living with the Wayne's is part 2. there's gonna be a whole 3rd part coming. idk how long it'll be, lol. it's the only part i haven't written a single word of because i've kind of been saving it as a treat.

thanks for your patience and encouragement all this time. as i said, i have pretty awful social anxiety on the internet and don't reply to ppl who reach out nearly as often as i want to. but every kind word or fanart or playlist or thoughtful comment on stuff you noticed etc etc has really carried me through the past few yrs. i can't tell you how many times i was spiraling, feeling like i might not be able to figure out how to write the next part with my current limitations, and one of you said something so lovely and encouraging, and i'd just suddenly have it in me to give it another try.

[defectivevillain]

underestimated

pairing: House/Reader (no explicit romance)

reader is referred to with they/them pronouns. otherwise, race is ambiguous and no physical descriptors are used.

word count: 1.6k | ao3 version

author's notes: I have no idea what I'm doing when it comes to this fandom. I've never watched the series—I've only watched Trixie and Katya watch it.

But I have a weakness for arrogant savant doctors who are given a swift reality check when they experience a career-threatening disability. Cough cough, Stephen Strange. Cough cough, Lawrence Gordon.

We knew this was going to happen eventually. I've outrun my fate for long enough.

Enjoy!

“I’d like to speak with another doctor. One with more experience. Who’s your supervisor?”

Everything around you seems to grind to a halt, as you stare at your patient’s father in disbelief. You went through years of schooling; participated in extensive specialized training; and incurred an ungodly amount of student debt to finally earn your reputation as a doctor… All for someone to disrespect you in a single breath? You stare at the man for a long moment, swearing you can hear your ears ringing as you process just what he had the audacity to say to you. 

Due to your relatively young age, you’ve been forced to grow accustomed to skeptical looks and backhanded remarks. You’ve been confused for a nurse more times than you can count, despite the undeniable fact that you wear a doctor’s coat instead of scrubs. There have been many times when you felt as if you were being subtly judged, but never has someone had the gall to blatantly disrespect you like this. 

Realizing you’ve been stewing in silence for longer than socially appropriate, you mutter an excuse to leave before departing from the room. You grit your teeth and try not to notice how quickly your heart is racing in your chest. You’re so concentrated on the frustration brewing in your chest that you aren’t watching where you’re going, and you accidentally bump shoulders with someone. 

“Hey, watch it, speedster.” Broken from your thoughts, you look over to find Dr. House staring at you in mild amusement. You feel an ugly emotion stewing in your chest at the thought of what you need to request of him. 

“My patient needs you,” you manage to choke out. There are a plethora of negative emotions running through you now: anger, shame, frustration, disbelief. You’ve been underestimated before, but never so overtly. It feels like a slap to the face. 

House lets out a loud sigh. “What have I told you?” he says, shaking his head in annoyance. “Everyone needs me. They’ll have to get in line.” He waves flippantly with his free hand. 

“No, I mean—” you choke off, struggling to keep your composure. You take a slow breath, pretending not to notice how the doctor’s gaze intensifies in its scrutiny. “His parents asked for my supervisor.”

House stares at you for several long moments, studying your face as if looking for any traces of dishonesty. When he doesn’t find anything, he frowns. “They did?”

You nod. Your fists clench at your sides as you struggle to fight off your distress. This shouldn’t be bothering you as much as it is. You shouldn’t care what anyone has to say about you—least of all, two complete strangers. That recognition does nothing to rid you of your spiraling thoughts, however. “They wanted to speak to someone with more experience,” you remember to say. Your voice sounds a bit hollow, but you can’t tell if you’re imagining that. 

Dr. House stares at you for several seconds. “Ordinarily I’d say I’m much too busy,” he reasons, leaning on his cane as a speculative expression passes across his face. “But, would you look at that? My schedule has suddenly cleared up.”

There’s a vindictive glimmer in his eyes now and you quickly try to backtrack. “House, it’s fine. I’ll go get Dr. Cuddy or something-” You suggest, suddenly a bit nervous. 

Dr. House interjects before you can make any more excuses. “What room is your patient assigned to?” he questions, not even bothering to acknowledge your weak justifications. 

“213,” you respond. 

“Excellent,” he says, his eyes already set on the end of the corridor. House has already made up his mind—it’s too late for you to object. You’re forced to watch regretfully as he heads down the hall towards your patient. You can only hope you haven’t just made a big mistake.

Dr. Gregory House enjoys having a staff that isn’t entirely useless. He never would’ve described them so positively before—but maybe you have something to do with that. Ever since House hired you, he’s been a little less annoyed at work. It’s hard for most people to notice, but Cuddy and Wilson are particularly perceptive in that regard. He has learned to ignore their jabs and inquiries, despite knowing the facts of the matter. 

You were the only one of the newer employees who didn’t undergo House’s rather extensive examination and hiring process. In actuality, you had attended the first day of the “examinations”—but you had approached him at the end of the day with the intent to drop out of the process. 

House still remembers the humble confidence you wielded in that moment—the certainty in your eyes as you met his gaze and asserted your self-worth. It stunned him for a moment, truthfully, before he found himself weirdly impressed. When he asked for further elaboration, your points were quick and concise: you felt as if a standard interview process would be a suitable portrayal of your abilities; and you asserted you weren’t going to fight to change someone’s perceptions of you. 

Intrigued, House interrogated you about your background: where your residency was located, what specialties you were interested in, and what kind of position you were looking for. He hadn’t realized it at the time, but you essentially tricked him into a genuine interview—without him even realizing it. Of course, you couldn’t have predicted that you would capture his attention. Even so, he found your strategy both clever and well-executed. 

It wasn’t until Dr. Cuddy entered the room nearly forty minutes later, wondering what was taking House so long, that he was truly convinced. House saw you slowly begin to retreat as Cuddy spoke to him, as if you were about ready to slip out of the room and leave the building for good. House didn’t want that to happen—didn’t want your talent to go to waste. That was how he found himself with a new doctor on his staff: one both competent and, even better, unassuming. You didn’t try too hard to be social with him, evidently recognizing that he had no desire for friendship. Maybe that was why he felt drawn to you. 

And perhaps that’s why he’s angry at the thought of your abilities being doubted. House knows you well enough to recognize that you make very few mistakes. There’s no doubt that the parents of your patient underestimated you because of your age. You’re relatively young for a doctor—if House remembers correctly, you were able to graduate from undergraduate schooling early and earn a dual degree. Even so, you’re infuriatingly competent. And the thought of you facing unfounded suspicion is enough to send him down the hall and into the patient’s room with renewed vigor. 

He knocks on the door harshly and practically throws it open, setting his eyes on the parents who created this whole mess. “You’re going to wish you hadn’t said anything,” he says in lieu of a greeting, closing the door behind him with a bit more force than necessary. “You had the ray of sunshine; I’m the dark clouds. Or the torrential downpour. Whatever fits.”

“Sorry?” the mother asks in confusion. 

“Right, let me put it in layman’s terms,” House continues, tapping his cane impatiently. “I’m a bastard. An asshole, even,” he states plainly. 

“This doesn’t seem—” the patient’s father tries to say, glancing at his young son. 

“Appropriate?” House interjects. “Yet you thought it appropriate to harass my helpless staff and demand another, more experienced doctor. So here I am. Dr. House, Head of the Diagnostics Department. No need to bow.”

The parents are stunned silent. Satisfied, House continues. “I made sure to fact-check the good doctor’s work—an unnecessary precaution, because it’s all in order.” The parents have the self-awareness to look embarrassed at that. House muses on what he reviewed with you only moments ago. You hadn’t said anything even mildly accusatory, of course; House isn’t so kind, however. He looks the parents in the eyes. “Your son’s illness is entirely your fault. You didn’t get him vaccinated, probably because you fell prey to some bullshit fear-mongering. Now, you feel guilty about it… You lashed out at the doctor, who can actually do something to help your son… It all checks out.” He nods. 

Both of the patient’s parents seem lost for words. House decides to take advantage of their momentary silence. “Now, you have two choices,” he drawls. “If you have anything resembling a brain in that head of yours, you’ll apologize to the doctor and I’ll approve the script they recommended.” 

The parents are quick to catch onto what he’s implying. “Is that a threat?” the father asks disbelievingly. 

He’s tired of this conversation already. It takes a concerted effort for him to focus on the matter at hand. “Now I’ll be taking my leave,” House announces, no longer bothering to hide his irritation. “The doctor will return in a few minutes. If you can behave, then your son will stop whining.” He pauses in the doorway for a moment, before turning to look at them once more. “And keep it down. Your voice is grating enough to give a deaf person a headache.”  

Dr. House finds you no more than five minutes later, an unreadable expression on his face. “They’ve been euthanized,” House states with unwavering certainty as he approaches you. Before you can wonder just what the hell that means, he’s already continuing down the hall. You stare after him with mixed feelings, before turning back around and heading to Room 213. 

When you return, you find that the parents are completely different people now. They apologize to you for their rude behavior and promise not to make harmful assumptions in the future; satisfied with their apology, you continue with treatment as planned. As you’re writing a prescription for the patient, you can’t quite stop the smile that’s rising on your lips at the thought of House defending you—even in his own twisted, antagonistic, patronizing way. 

©2025, @defectivevillain | @defectivehero, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

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[jammydodger3579]

Ice Cream and Shots

Summary: This was requested by the lovely @sugarplumz100. The reader has a mutation like Mileena from Mortal Kombat and believes she's an ugly monster.

A/N: the most fun I've had writing in a while. i loved this request so keep them coming !!!

Masterlist here Patreon here

18+ for mature audiences only.

2900 word count.

Warnings: smut, oral masc!receiving. cursing

She’s beautiful, truly- a sight to behold. She just didn’t know it. She thought she was a monster, a killer, an abomination that the lovely Francis made. It wasn’t true. No matter how many times her best friend Wade told her. He was amazing, getting her the apartment next door to his so they could always hang out. They’d met while getting tortured, and Wade had saved her from the explosion he caused. Together, they took down Francis, getting him back for making them into “monsters”. She was there when he and Vanessa broke up, and now she’s there for him as he tells her the story of how he saved the multiverse. Her head was spinning as he spoke. 

“And that's how Peanut here came to this universe,” he said. She nodded, still processing the whole “multiverse” bit. She stared at the man before her. He looked rough, his eyes were tired. He didn’t say a word, just nodding along with what Wade said. 

“You can call me Logan” he speaks! she thought to herself. 

“You can call me Y/N” she introduced herself. Her voice was slightly muffled from the mask she wore. Wade was kind enough to text her that someone new was coming home with him so she had enough time to prepare mentally. She just didn't know he would bring home someone so attractive. “So… You’re a mutant?” she asked cautiously. Logan nodded and made a fist. Three metal claws extended from his knuckles. She was intrigued. 

“My whole skeleton is metal. And I heal really fast like Wade here.” 

“Pookie here is an old fella, over 200 years old” Wade chimed in, patting Logan on the back. “Anyway, we gotta prepare, I’m hosting an “I’m Marvel Jesus” party and we need snacks! Would you guys like to come shopping or do you wanna stay home and decorate?” 

“Decorate,” Y/N and Logan said at the same time. Logan looked at her. 

“Okay lame, but fair enough. Stay home and get to know each other, I think you’ll make great friends!” Wade said getting up. He walked off into his room to get changed. Wade was way more optimistic about being friends with Logan than she was. She got along with Wade’s friends, but she still kept her guard up. She didn’t even like taking her mask off around them. But Wade was her best friend, so she decided to make an attempt at the very least.

—

Y/N was hanging up a sign that said “Marvel Jesus” over the window in Wade’s apartment. She and Logan worked in silence, both of them not knowing what to say to each other. The apartment was completely decorated, with lights and streamers hanging from the walls. She looked around, deciding that was enough decorating. 

“Can I ask… what’s with the mask?” Logan said, looking at her face. She shook her head. 

“My mutation… I’m horrible to look at so I cover it up” she spoke softly, avoiding Logan’s gaze. She sighed, “They made me into a monster, perfect for killing,” 

“Hey, don’t say that” Logan searched her face. He had a look in his eyes that Y/N just couldn’t place. The two stared at each other until the door opened. Wade walked in and put a bag of groceries on the table. 

“Honey! I’m home” he said, opening his arms for Mary Puppins to run into. He picked the dog up and looked at the two in his living room. “Whoa, did I walk in on something?” 

“No. Sorry Wade, but something came up and I can’t hang out tonight” She said, before grabbing her coat and leaving the apartment. She went to her home next door, taking her mask off as she entered. She sighed, taking a seat on the couch. She could hear talking on the other side of the wall, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. 

— 

She never got used to the new neighbour. It had been three weeks and they barely talked more than about how their day was going when they’d bump into each other in the hallway. She still hung out with Wade though, making for some very tense movie nights in his apartment. Y/N couldn’t help but feel drawn to Logan, yet that made her retreat more into herself. She was afraid of opening up to him and not being able to stop. Still, it had been a few weeks of knowing Logan and she still hadn’t shown him under the mask. Wade leaned over and handed her the popcorn, causing her to shake her head.

“Come on, I know you want some” Wade taunted the popcorn in front of her face. “You’re practically wasting away over there, I know you’re hungry”

“Popcorn isn’t really the food you eat when you’re hungry,” Logan said, leaning over Wade and grabbing a handful. “Stop pushing her, it’s fine” 

“No, it’s not fine! Y/N, bestie, I love you but you’ve got to take off the mask. Logan here doesn’t care what you look like. We’re all mutants so you shouldn’t feel like you have to hide” Wade spoke softly. She knew she didn’t have to hide, but it still felt like a security blanket. She decided to compromise instead. 

“Just this once, only because I want popcorn,” she said, taking her mask off. Logan stared at her. Her large smile extended ear to ear, her teeth were sharp canines. She got a handful of popcorn and ate it one by one. Her long tongue came out to lick her lips. Logan was mesmerised. He’d never seen a mutation so… beautiful. Blushing, Y/N lifted the mask back over her face, noticing Logan's stare. He averted his gaze, embarrassed that he stared for so long. 

“You don't… don’t feel like you have to hide,” Logan said, looking flustered. Y/N smiled lowering her mask. She met Logan's eyes and he smiled at her. “You don’t look like a monster to me”

“Aww you two are so cute together” Wade chimed in, ruining the moment. Not that there could've been a moment, since Wade was positioned between the two on the couch. Logan coughed and shifted in his seat, probably annoyed at Wade’s insinuation. Y/N sighed and leaned back into the couch. She felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest. Now that Logan knows what she looks like, maybe she can get to know him better too.

—

The next night, Y/N was in the building's laundry room, folding her freshly dried clothing. Logan walked in with an empty basket, starting to unload his dry washing. “Hey, how's your day going?” Y/N said. She still had her mask on, in case she bumped into a neighbour who isn’t chill with mutants. 

“Not bad, can’t complain. Wade and his mates went out for the night but I stayed back to have some peace from that man,” Y/N laughed.

“There’s no getting peace from Wade. On the odd occasion, I bring someone home with me from a date, Wade always has to pop in and check them out for himself. And once I’ve finally convinced my date that my neighbour is chill and no they’re not my jealous boyfriend, the night always turns sour for a different reason…” She gestured to her face. “So back to Wades I go for shots and ice cream because that’s the second date this week that doesn’t want to sleep with a crazy monster” She sighed, shaking her head. “Sorry Logan, I shouldn’t be venting to you, I’ve just had a rough day”

“Hey it’s okay, we all need to vent sometimes, and for the record, I don’t think you look like a monster. Those dates obviously don’t know what they’re missing out on.” Logan said, putting a new load of washing in the dryer and turning it on. 

“Do you... wanna have shots and ice cream?” She asked cautiously. Logan smiled. 

“Of course” The pair went up to their respective apartments, Logan slipping in just to put his washing on the couch and grab a bottle of tequila. He knocked on the door to Y/N’s apartment. 

“Come in!” she chimed. She had two bowls of ice cream set out on the kitchen island and a bunch of shot glasses lined up. She’d taken her mask off, so Logan could see her beaming smile as he walked into the living room. He smiled back, taking in the decor of her living room. Everything was pink or purple and had a dark, gothic aesthetic to it. Her shelves that displayed figurines were the shape of coffins. Logan chuckled. 

“Not quite the apartment I was expecting,” He said, looking around. He handed the tequila to Y/N and took a seat at the kitchen island. She poured twelve shots, pushing six of them closer to Logan. “Is there any particular way we do this or…?” She shook her head. 

“Wade and I would just do all six shots and then eat the ice cream,” she said, picking up a shot glass. 

“Cheers,” Logan said, picking one up as well. They did the shots in sync, Logan waiting for Y/N before moving on to the next one. She had a burning sensation in the back of her throat so she took a spoonful of ice cream as soon as she was done with the last shot. Logan chuckled. 

“Not a fan of tequila?” 

“Not a fan of how fast you were throwing them back,” She said, swallowing her ice cream. 

“I kept up with you” 

“You probably could’ve gone faster” She poured twelve more shots. “I wanna see how fast you really can throw these back.” she had a mischievous grin on her face. Logan smiled, not phased by the idea of getting drunk. 

“You’re on, princess” He picked up the first shot glass and started throwing them back one by one, not caring about the afterlast. Y/N smiled.

“Impressive” She picked one of her six shots and started drinking them, not as fast as Logan, however. She took her time, making sure each one won’t return on her. “Tell me something about your universe?” Logan’s face dropped. He didn’t talk about his universe. Y/N didn’t know why and until now, didn’t question it. She shook her head. “It’s fine if you don’t want to share” 

“No, I want to it, it just… well it’s not nice. Mutants aren’t safe there… the X-men are all dead. It’s not nice, you wouldn’t like it” 

“I’m glad you’re here then” 

“I’m glad I’m here too” Logan picked up his bowl of ice cream and started to eat it. Y/N moved around the kitchen island and went to the couch, patting the spot next to her for Logan. He took the hint and sat next to her. 

“So what else do you and Wade do when you’re having shots and ice cream?” 

“Mostly just complain about the dates I’ve just had” 

“Got anything to complain about?” 

“I can’t remember when I last had sex” Logan snorted on his ice cream. He wasn’t expecting Y/N to say that. “Sorry that was probably a bit too tmi… ah too much information” she corrected herself. 

“No it’s fine” Logan said chuckling, “I’m in the same boat” They looked at each other for a moment before Y/N turned away, blushing. She liked Logan and found him intriguing. She was opening up to him which surprised her even. She just wasn’t sure how to approach him. Their silence was interrupted by the sound of the door to Wade’s apartment opening with a bang. 

“Honey, I’m home!!” he yelled. Y/N knocked a tune on the wall connecting the two apartments, signalling for Wade to come over. It wasn’t long before he appeared in the door frame to Y/N’s apartment. She smiled at him. 

“Good night out?” she asked the man. He nodded and got the shot glasses and tequila off the kitchen island. 

“So much fun… though looks like you guys have been having more fun without me” 

“You can join us” Y/N said, looking at Logan. He nodded and Wade lined the shot glasses up on the coffee table before filling them up. He sat on the floor, taking shots. 

“Nes brought her stupid what’s his face boyfriend along and it was so annoying!” Wade cried after finishing three shots. He drank another when Logan spoke up. 

“Have you even talked to her about how you feel?”

“Oh no, Wade doesn’t do big feelings talks” Y/N said matter of factly. Logan nodded. 

“She said she’s still just casual with this guy and she doesn’t want to jump into anything serious but I think she’s just stalling him” Wade said. He looked bummed. “So anyway, what have you guys been talking about?”

“Nothing really,” Y/N said, looking at Logan. He nodded, probably not wanting to bring up their awkward sex conversation. 

“Ohh you guys were having another moment” Wade said in a singsongy voice. “Well don’t let me ruin it for you, I’ll be outta your hair in no time” Wade finished the twelfth shot and got off the floor. He patted his jacket pocket before chucking something at Y/N and then headed to the door. She looked, it was a wrapped condom. “Y’know, don’t want any mutant babies” He added before leaving. Logan sighed. 

“I don’t know what he thinks we were doing before he arrived but I’m pretty sure he got the wrong idea,” he said. 

“Did he get the wrong idea?” Y/N said, looking at Logan. He had that face, the one she couldn’t read. 

“...No, he didn’t” Logan pulled Y/N onto his lap and started kissing her. It was messy, rough. Both of them desperate for contact. She lifted his shirt over his head and threw it onto the floor. Logan started unbuttoning Y/N’s top and tossed it aside with his clothes. She was grinding her hips against Logan, feeling his growing need against his pants. He started kissing her neck, nibbling just below her ear. She fumbled with his belt before she managed to free his massive cock. She smiled before getting off his lap and positioning herself between his legs. She licked up his shelf, excited to hear Logan moan in pleasure. Her long tongue wrapped itself around him, stroking up and down. Logan threw his head back, hitting the wall as he did. His hips buckled up, and Y/N took this as a hint to go faster. She resisted the urge to touch herself, Logan’s moans making her pussy wet. She kept jacking him off with her tongue until he came all over her tongue. She lapped it up, licking her lips and swallowing. They made eye contact before Logan pulled her up onto his lap again. They kissed, and Logan could taste himself in her mouth. She started grinding against Logan when he winced. “Give me just a moment sweetheart and I’ll be ploughing into you like there’s no tomorrow” 

“Can’t wait,” she said, getting off Logan to take her pants and underwear off. She took her bra off and stood before Logan naked. He shook his pants off his legs to join her. He looked at her, full of lust and awe. 

“You’re so beautiful. Really, don’t let anyone tell you you’re not” he said, pulling her back onto his lap. She smiled, putting a hand around his cock and stroking it ever so slowly. It hardened in her hand as she went, causing Logan to moan again. “I need you”

“Oh thank god” she said, positioning herself on top of Logan. She took a minute to get used to the size before she started moving. She was sloppy, desperate to feel good. Logan cupped her breasts, rubbing his thumb over her nipples to tease her just that little bit further. She had her hands on the wall behind Logan, leaning against his chest so she could move faster. Logan’s hips moved to meet hers, desperate to feel some kind of control. He moved a hand down to find her clit, rubbing slowly to mess with her. She kissed Logan, her tongue dominating his mouth. He let her, enjoying being topped for once. They were a symphony of moaning as their bodies snapped together, each movement getting them closer and closer to release. ‘I-I’m getting-” 

“I know baby” Logan picked Y/N up and slammed her back into the couch so he was on top, a firm grip on her hips. He did as he said, ploughing her into the couch. She screamed his name, causing him to go faster. The couch kept hitting the wall loudly, with each thrust from Logan. Her legs wrapped around Logan’s waist as she came. Logan kept his speed up, his thrusts becoming sloppy and messy. Another wave of pleasure washed over her body as she felt Logan cum inside her. Her breathing was heavy as they rode out their high together. They pulled apart from each other, Logan taking a seat on the couch. Y/N leaned against his chest and he held her. “...I meant it, y’know, you’re very beautiful” He placed a kiss to her forehead.

[sukuromi]

NSFW 18+ content ahead. Minors, do not interact with me or any of my works.

notes from poppy: i say i'm an umemiya girly but i am a filthy stinkin' LIAR!

content warnings: reader briefly daydreams about a threesome with togame and umemiya (please do not go in with high expectations. this was my writing warm-up for the day, i edited this like once. it's all over the place lol)

There are two things that you hate about yourself : The involuntary small whimper that tumbles out of your mouth whenever you see a guy you want to fuck, and then the inevitable zoning out you do when he's trying to talk to you. They're nasty habits, truly, but you're trying to do better.

You still don't know how your boyfriend HAJIME UMEMIYA didn't notice either of these things when you went out on your first date with him. He was showing you pictures of his new plant babies, and while you sat there all night nodding and trying to listen, all you could think about was his hands all over you back at your apartment. You had to know exactly what his dick situation was, texting your mutual friend Toma about it when Hajime excused himself to the restroom. But Toma responded that he would come over to the restaurant and personally kick your ass if you asked again, so you dropped it.

However, it did not take much convincing to get Hajime into your apartment that night. All you had to do was tell him you wanted to start having plants in your apartment, and he walked right into your place, and eventually, into your bedroom. The rest is history.

The thing about Hajime though is that he has a lot of friends - so many friends. So many friends that you have completely forgotten half of their names.

But there has always been one name that your brain will not let you forget.

You’re doing your best to hold it together right now being introduced to his best friend, but the fact that JOU TOGAME is just as strong and tall as Hajime has your head spinning.

You shift nervously from foot to foot as Jou and Hajime catch up, trying to avoid eye contact with him, almost blinding yourself with the venue's spotlights in the process. Maybe if you no longer have your eyesight, you no longer have to think about Jou's fingers wrapping around your ankles and bending you exactly how he wants you, before his cock starts making a home for itself deep inside you.

Your head swims with other unholy thoughts - peppered in with the actual dialogue of Jou and Hajime's conversation.... Something about how Taiga is getting stronger with every wrestling match and he did really well tonight. It all sounds like nonsense to you because all you can focus on is their lips, and what it would feel like if they left no part of you untouched by them.

How would it go, exactly? Would Hajime even let Jou touch you? Would Jou have to keep his hands to himself the whole time, or would he be able to join in? Would Hajime finally become territorial - the way you've been begging him to, even just for a little bit - and force you to look at him while Jou was in the corner, knowing full well he had you in the palm of his hand?

You can't help yourself and quickly glance down at Jou's sweatpants, but then immediately regret it.

"So you're the one I've heard so much about." Jou smiles warmly at you, "It's nice to finally meet you."

And as Jou takes his much larger hand into yours, before bringing it closer and giving the top of your hand a tender kiss, the whimper falls out of your mouth.

You hope nobody heard – hopefully all this ruckus from this end-of-the-night wrestling match hoopla is too loud – but the briefest chuckle against the top of your hand tells you otherwise.

Oh god.

You’re so fucked.

“It’s a shame Hajime was able to get to you first. I have to admit, I’m jealous.” Jou says, letting go of your hand and placing his own into the pocket of his sweatpants.

Your eyes follow his movement - and you swear, you swear that he intentionally pulls the fabric taut... just for the smallest moment so you can see what you've done to him in this three minute conversation.

But then the outline disappears and your eyes snap up to his just as quick, and he has the biggest shit eating grin on his face.

“Yeah, I’m really lucky, aren’t I?” Hajime chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

And you swear to God that there's a sparkle in Jou’s eyes as he makes eye contact with you again, and the smirk he gives you sends a shiver up your spine.

“You sure are.”